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sword-brainrot · 3 years

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hENLO ITS ME AGAIN SORRY TO BOTHER YOU, THE HEADCANONS YOU MADE WERE BEAUTIFUL IM ACTUALLY SOBBING GIJGUIHDUGH. anyway its time to go apeshit, it angsty time. Lets say the saniwa is a self-sacrificing type of person and took a hit for someone during battle and is in critical condition (THEY FINE ITS OK THEY RECOVER) how would hasebe, kashuu (romantic), and sayo (platonic) react? seperate of course dearie~! THANK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU <3<3<3

Heshikiri Hasebe, Kashuu Kiyomitsu, and Sayo Samonji Reaction to a self-sacrificing Reader (GN Reader)

♡ It wasn't too common for their master to go into battle with them but sometimes the mission calls for it. This being the case. It was an understanding situation but stressful nonetheless. Hordes of enemies swarming the group of swords and their master. Everyone was holding them off while you were going to break the charm on the shrine... But things didn't go exactly as planned.

♡ You hear a loud yell as one of your precious swords, Hasebe, mutters the words he normally does when he gets a severe injury. "It's not over until I die!" His hand gripping his blade and blood flows out of his wounds and onto the cold, hard ground. The enemies seem to notice that the poor sword no longer had any troops on him and one more shot could easily knock him down. More begin to pile over to him, ready to finish him off.

♡ Frantic hammering of your heart in your ears overtook your senses as you sprinted towards him. You could also come back to this time in history to save the shrine but you couldn't get back your sword that you grew to love. Even if you resmithed him, he wouldn't remember you or the memories you share. You can't leave the sword that made you so happy. So your legs carried you until you were right in front of the badly wounded man.

♡ His expression contorted into one of pure terror when he saw you were the one that ran to his aid. Why... Why did it have to be you? Why would you put yourself in such danger for a sword like him?

♡ "Get away from me!” His words fell to deaf ears as you dashed in front of him, and released a crystal colored barrier in front of you both. You were sure that it would hold off the enemies that were hammering against it. You saved him. You were sure. You just had to hold them off until the other swords could rush over and help you two.

♡ Everything was going smoothly until you heard the words that would stay with you forever.

♡ "NAGAE YARI IN FRONT."

♡ Just like that, the Kebiishi lunged forward with it's spear, crushing your barrier and impaling you in all but one strike. White sparkles that was once a shield now floating up into the sky and disappearing as you fell to your knees, clasping the spear in your gut. When did the Kebiishi get here...? Were you their target all along because you were also messing with history? How did this go so wrong...?

♡ Hasebe’s entire body was wracked by sobs as you lay curled in a ball on the ground, writhing around in utter agony. His own injured body slowly hobbling over to your and grasping you tightly. His tears falling down and painting your cheek. The Kebiishi had already pulled out their spear and went looking for more healthy targets to take down.

♡ The pain was too much to bare. All you could do was stare up at the sword that looked so broken.

♡ “You can't leave,” Hasebe whimpered in the highest tone you’ve ever heard from him. He sounded like a child with the way his raspy voice cracked. His grip on you was high and you could feel every shake that went through his body as the sobs broke out. "You can't leave... I have just learned how to open up and love again... Don't you dare leave. Don't abandon me."

♡ "It's all my fault... I should of been stronger. I should of taken that hit.. I-... I love you. Don't go." He hiccuped through strained wheezes for air.

♡ Although your vision was spotting and blurring, you could see Hasebe tremble where he sat. His body was rocking the two of you back and forth. He didn't care about what was going on around you. Nothing mattered if you weren't okay. He didn't matter unless you were okay. You made him feel love and appreciated. You reminded him that he was a sword worth having by your side. A man you loved for who he is. If he lost that, he lost everything that mattered to him.

♡ With one final, ragged breath, you closed your eyes and succumbed to your injuries. Hasebe didn’t scream like you thought he would. He watched you drift off to sleep in utter silence, almost holding his breath in hope it wasn't actually happening. The only sound that came from him was sniffing back tears and coughing sporadically.

♡ By the time you awoke, you were in the infirmary of the citadel. Yagen and two swords who were on the mission with you, Tonbokiri and Horikawa Kunihiro, sat by you. Your eyes opening bought smiles to their faces. Horikawa wiping away the happy tears that suddenly rushed out when he finally saw you open your eyes.

♡ Your body ached all over but it was tolerable compared to what you had just faced before. Your abdomen tightly wrapped up. It was Tonbokiri that explained that they were able to get out when a few of them awakened and rushed over, using the charm stone and teleporting back to the citadel. You were rushed to the infirmary right away and you stayed unconscious for three days.

♡ "When you are feeling well enough... I think you should head over to your room. Hasebe locked himself in there and hasn't came out since coming back to the citadel... We haven't been able to get him to eat or even talk to him." Horikawa explained.

♡ When you felt well enough, you adventured over there. Swords stopping you on the way to express how happy to see you up and okay. They expressed how worried they all were when you came back in such a condition.

♡ A series of knocks on the door were greeted with silence. The static sobbing from the room paused for a moment, then resumed.

♡ Taking out a key, you unlocked the door and slowly walked in. You could see Hasebe in total darkness as he held the picture frame of you two to his chest. His body not even turning towards you.

♡ "Don't you dare come into this room only to tell me something I already know. Get out now before I cut you down."

♡ "Hasebe... It's me."

♡ You could see his body visibly tense and stop breathing. Approaching him with caution, you kneeled onto the bed beside him and placed your palm on his cheek. He leaned into your touch, his face stained with tears. One hand releasing the frame and grasping your hand tightly, as if he was scared that if he let you go... You would disappear right then and there.

♡ "It's really you," he would whisper as his violet eyes slowly locked with yours. It was only then he would fully release the frame and instead grab you, embracing you in the tightest hug you have ever experienced. He would only let up when you winced in pain from how tight it was. His body shaking as he bawled his eyes out.

♡ Hasebe pressed chaste kisses all over your face, making sure you knew he loved you no matter how he acted. "Don't ever do something stupid like that again. I will make them all pain for what they did to you. I won't let a single one walk this earth. I will make them feel the pain you felt times a hundred. I will make them beg to-"

♡ "I'm okay, Hasebe." You would calmly say as you stroke his cheek. "You look exhausted though... Come, let us rest for some more. I won't leave your side, not again." You both would settle down and he will gently hold you close to his chest. His red eyes slowly closing and a small smile present on his face knowing that he finally has you back.

♡ It was the Ikedaya incident. The moon was high in the sky and the cold skin gently bit at everyone's cheeks. For normal people of the time, they were not even aware of the killing going on near them. However the swords and their master were aware. They were planning for this event for a while ever since the History Revisionists came to this time in history.

♡ Most of the swords were inside, dealing with enemies to make sure that no one gets to the top of the stairs where Okita, Kashuu's and Yasusada's, was to meet his end. It was there you stood, at the stop of the stairs, stealing off the door to make extra sure that only people of that time could enter.

♡ Everything was going well... Until you felt the charm on your sash dissipate. You had only given it to one sword... The one sword that was not in the building... The one who was directly involved with this incident... The one sword that claimed that he rather not be muddied with Okita's blood again instead of saying how he didn't want to witness his master and his old sword self die again. The one sword that stolen your heart, Kashuu Kiyomitsu.

♡ You quickly finished the barrier before hearing a yelp as you ran down the stairs, jumping over the last few. Your legs pumped as you quickly dodged enemies and tried to make your way outside where Kashuu was surrounded by enemies. Your skin crawled as you saw Kashuu barely be able to stand and the enemies, with their ruthless gaze, advancing on him.

♡ "Uwa!? Heavy damage...!?" Kashuu managed to rasp as the enemy slammed into him and brought him to the ground. One more hit and surely he would be broken. You could hear the pain in his voice even though he tried to mask it. His body trembling as he was slowly coming to terms that this night was a cursed night for him. No matter if he was human or sword... He dies constantly on this day in history.

♡ He was in danger and didn't have much time left. You quickly took out your ofuda charms from your poach as you called for help to the swords still inside the building, dealing with enemies. It didn't take long before two of them came out but by that time, you were already gone.

♡ You had already run off into the crowd, tagging as many enemies as you could. The tags slowly melting them and making them transform into black dust... But there was far too many for you to handle by yourself. You just had to make it to Kashuu. You just had to make sure he was safe...

♡ "You idiot! Get out of here." Kashuu screamed as he noticed you were trying to make yourself through the crowd to him, all by yourself. You ignored his cries and slid to the side, dodging one of enemy’s strikes.

♡ All things considered, you were able to dodge all the swings coming your way. You were doing well! You just had to make it to him and cast a barrier over the you of you and-

♡ A sword was brought down right as you were about to dodge and landed right against your back. The impact brought you to your knees, only a couple feet away from your lover. Blood pooled underneath you and you gritted your teeth, the pain overriding your senses and bringing tears to your eyes.

♡ You clutched your fists, wincing as crimson bloomed on your shirt. Panic hadn’t filled your veins yet.

♡ Your eyes snapped up to meet Kashuu’s as the enemies loomed over the two of you, ready to finish you off. . Anxiety began to set in, your movements growing more sloppy as you desperately tried to crawl over to your lover. Kashuu slowly reaching for you as well.

♡ "Stop moving, idiot. Just take deep breaths, all right? Just look at me. You're going to be okay... I won't let anything happen to you."

♡ You felt your body grow numb as you lost more blood. You could no longer feel the cold ground under you or the wind brushing against your face. To you, everything was cold. You scooched closer to Kashuu and extended a hand. Though still far apart, he grasped it back and squeezed tightly so you knew he was there. "Kashuu... I'm cold."

♡ “You’re gonna be fine.” He was lying through his teeth. Kashuu could see the glassy look in your eyes. The hand quivered in his, he could feel the life draining from it. Your voice wasn’t a comfort to him anymore, every word you spoke was full of agony and he wished you would stay quiet as to not worry him more.

♡ His own hand was shaking. This night was truly a cursed one. The past him was taken to this place to watch his master die and get covered in his blood only to break in battle. Now he held onto his bleeding out master/lover and couldn't do anything to stop them from slowly fading from consciousness. His lover was bleeding out in front of him and there was absolutely nothing he could do. He tried so desperately to hide the fear from his face, but a single tear slid down his cheek and his expression sunk when he felt you begin to fade away. The last thing you heard as your eyes began to close was Kashuu screaming at the top of his lungs your name.

♡ You were awoken by the sound of someone rushing to your side. Bright light blinding you as your eyes slowly adjusted and you were met with a familiar sight. The infirmary room that you often went in to visit your precious swords and your boyfriend, Kashuu. His own body had be bandaged up and he met you will a smile. "Good morning, sleep well?"

♡ "What happened?" Your voice faint and raspy as you slowly sat up, your back stinging you along the way. But with the help of Kashuu, you were able to fully sit up and get handed water to help your very dry throat.

♡ "Before I answer that... Let's get you cleaned up. As much as I love you, you're a mess." He would give you a teasing grin as he helps you stand. Leading you over to where he can draw a bubble bath for you so you can wash and clean yourself.

♡ He would sit on the side and help you clean up, making sure to extra careful of your back and making sure to massage your scalp as he washes.

♡ "Yesterday... Don't do that again. You know how I feel about Okita's death. I don't need that happening to you. I don't want to lose another person I care about. This citadel needs you so don't go running into a crowd of enemies for just one sword and almost getting yourself killed. You're lucky Hyuuga and Akashi arrived on time or else we would of both vanished from existence." His hands maneuvered around your body with precision and care as he washed away all of the dirt and dust that marred your skin.

♡ "You're important too, you know." You replied as you leaned into his touch, "I didn't go into danger for nothing. I went into it because of you. I don't want to lose you as much as you don't want to lose me. So next time... When you are in trouble, call for us. I will come running for you right away."

♡ This hands will stop moving and he would laugh from the pit of his stomach. This causing you to turn to face him. Small droplets of tears appearing out the side of his eyes as his laughter calmed down. "You act like if I break, I won't fall for you all over again. You can get me back but I can't get you back. So don't ever try that again, stupid." He would finish off the conversation with him leaning in and pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

♡ Labored breaths escaped you as you ran in the dark forest. The stems of the tree sprouting from the ground to constantly trip you up... and it was working. You constantly found yourself tripping and having to push yourself off things to keep going. You couldn't stop... They were gaining on you.

♡ This all started when you went undercover to gain information on what was changing in this time in history. It was suppose to be safe! You were suppose to get information while the boys left and dealt with the History Revisionists. It was a trap... They wanted you all along.

♡ You had signaled to them that the enemy was by you before you began your big chase. There had been no sight of them and your legs were beginning to burn. Tripping became more constant and you can hear them getting closer and closer. There was many of them... More than you could handle by yourself.

♡ Your luck was beginning to run out until one last stem tripped you and sent you to your knees. Your ankle shooting pain up your leg when you tried to move it. Fear painted on your face as you looked behind you and saw the glowing eyes in the dark. The blades gleaming from the small sunlight between the branches. Your luck had run out.

♡ Your held your ankle tightly as the enemies rose their blades towards you, ready to end you here and now. Your eyes shut tightly as you awaited for your final breath to come... But it didn't. Instead you heard pains of agony. When you finally found the courage to open your eyes, you saw Sayo standing in front of you with his dagger in hand. Holding off the enemies. He must of been the only sword to be quick enough to make it in time.

♡ As much as you wished to be happy to see your precious sword... There was far too many of them. Too many for one tantou risking his everything to protect his precious master. The both of them were well aware. Maybe if Sayo could hold off until that others get there, everything will be alright!

♡ That was the hopeful thought until a tantou enemy got the sneak attack on him and he received a critically blow. His body crumbling to the ground in front of you as he muttered, "I understand... I don't care how things will turn out...!" His blue eyes glaring at the horde of enemies in front of you two. His body dragging himself upward, planning to protect you to his death.

♡ However, you had another plan. You weren't going to just sit there and let him die for you. He has come so far on his journey of accepting himself, you weren't going to let these monsters take that away from him.

♡ Right as the blade was began to come down and finish him off, you embraced him and turned your body so you would take all of the impact rather than him. Sharp yelp was released from your vocal cords as you held onto the short sword and protected him from the pain.

♡ Sayo couldn't believe his eyes, he stood there tense and wide eyed. "M-Master...?" His voice had always been on the quiet side but this voice sounded scared and barely escaping from his tensed throat. "Why would you..."

♡ "Sayo, you have... So much to live for. You are so much greater than you give yourself credit for. I am proud of you every day, so don't throw yourself away... You are more than the revenge that haunts your heart."

♡ His lips trembled and tears streaked down his cheeks as he held your body that was going limp in his arms. "Don't leave! I don't want to be left alone again. Please don't leave me, aruji!" He would scream at the top of his lungs, shaking you and trying to get you to wake up... But sleep whispered into your ears and sent you into darkness.

♡ Before you even opened your eyes, you could feel pressure on your hand... Were you asleep on it again? Slowly opening your eyes and blinking to adjusted to your surrounding made you realize that you weren't in your bed in your room... but rather the infirmary. Your body was bandaged all over and the memories of what happened in the forest returned to you. The team must of got to you in time before you completely vanished from existence... But what of Sayo then?

♡ Your body jolted up against the pain that was attempting to hold you down. Anxiety rushing through your veins, preparing to look sight of any clue of what happened to the small tantou after you passed out.

♡ Your search didn't last long, for the pressure on your hand slowly shifted and caused your eyes to wandered down to the boy who was clasping your hand tightly as he slumbered. A smile slowly rose itself on your face as your free hand gently stroked his hair. It seemed as he hadn't left your side since recently. It warmed your heart that a sword that often times was very antisocial treasured you so much that he didn't want to leave your side.

♡ "D-Don't leave me." A small whimper of a cry would come out as he tightened his grip on your hand. His shoulder shaking ever so lightly. The fear of losing the people he cares about haunting him even in the dream realm. The fear of his masters being killed in front of him and being stolen piecing him in his heart to leave scars to all of time.

♡ "I won't leave." You soothed, "I'm right here, Sayo. I'm so proud of you. I won't ever leave your side again. I promise you. Now rest well, dear. You needn't worry any longer. I swear to you for all eternity, I will remain right here." A small smile will be barely visible as he leans into your hand and his body slowly calms down before he find a peaceful sleep at last.

#Touken Ranbu #Touken Danshi #Tourabu #Touken Ranbu Headcanons #Touken Ranbu Imagines #Touken Ranbu x Reader #TKRB #TKRB Headcanons #TKRB Imagines #TKRB x Reader #Heshikiri Hasebe #Heshikiri Hasebe x Reader #Kashuu Kiyomitsu #Kashuu Kiyomitsu x Reader #Sayo Samonji #Sayo Samonji x Reader

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rotomgender-moved · 3 years

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Under the cut is the first part/chapter of it

Title: Runs in our Family

Word Count: roughly 1.5-2k I'd say

TWs: Near panic attacks, mild dehumanization of self, general ask to tag

Part One

The constant click of timers and bubbling of boiling water is what grounded them, eyes flickering about the room to watch over everything he had to. The rhythmic sound of a knife cutting through vegetables was like music to his ears, a hum rumbling through their chest added to the harmony of the kitchen. It made him feel in control, because he was. Guided merely by his memory of the recipe. Even then, he can tweek and test and try new things. It allowed them to have control over its life. It allowed it to feel safe, even when working with fire and knives and pots and pans searing red with heat.

"N, my golden friend," His Zoroark companion began from their resting position. "The noodles, you need to put them in the water." N froze for a moment, startled by the sudden reminder.

"Ah! Yes, you're right. What could I do without you, Illusion." It chuckled as its own forgetfulness, scooping the fresh noodles in careful hands and putting them into the water carefully. Setting the egg timer for a minute and a half before continuing the final preparations on the vegetables. Picking them in his hands and putting them into the sauce in a few scoops.

"You are becoming a good chef, my golden friend, but you mustn't lose yourself in your head while working with fire."

"Yes, Illusion, I am very aware. I'm working on it, I promise."

"I pray to Arceus you learn before you lose a paw."

"Hand, before I lose a hand."

"You get the picture."

Truly, N thought as he nodded to Zoroark. What could I do without you.

N let out a breath of air, turning off the fire in the stone as the timer goes off. Waiting quietly for the sauce to finish cooking. Reminding himself to take a few tablespoons of sugar and sprinkle it into the sauce, making it just that much sweeter. Waiting just for a few more moments, they have to. Reward cannot be reaped without patience, he thought, he must have patience.

To fill his time, he spread his hands up in the air in a Y shape, spinning around and humming. Fully content before he felt a sharp pain in his hand, followed by the loud BANG of the hanging pans hitting each other. N flinched, covering his ears and letting out a whine. A shiver rocked his body, but just before they could feel any tears begin to brim. A hand was placed onto his back, or a paw, moreso.

"It is alright," The voice of his pokemon cooed. "It is only cooking utensils, nothing more. Now, why don't you plate your dinner and watch some of your shows?"

They continued to nod a little, thanking the illusionist with a scratch on the chin. Which, from the aura of joy it received from Zoroark, was greatly appreciated. N turned on their heel and scooped the noodles onto a plate he already had set aside before pouring a ladle or two of sauce onto it. N had promised Mallow a few days before that he would save some extra sauce for her to use in one of her dishes. Whatever concoction she may come up with, and however much it made the trio of chefs-turned-gym-leaders angry, he was excited to see it.

As he settled down at his little table in his little kitchen, he smiled a tad. It had taken well a while for him to grow accustomed, or even willing, to live in a home. His first actions at coming to this strange new region had been to find an escape in the woods with his pokemon companions and live off nature for a month and a half. Which apparently, from what they deciphered from the angry ranting of a disgruntled Hugh and the chaotic explanation of a worried Alder. Had left his fellow Unovans with a wild goose chase to find him, having only been discovered by an odd group of children with accents he didn't quite recognize mistaking him for a new wild pokemon, thusly getting hit with a thunder wave that left him in the Pokemon Centers human unit for a little longer then N would prefer to admit.

Once they had been captured and as Nate and Rosa dubbed it, "Secured, Contained and Protected", they were subjected to an explanation that pulling an out-of-pocket disappearing act after the multiple both he, Hilbert and Hilda pulled off, wasn't the best idea. Which he understood! But it wasn't out-of-pocket. They should have expected it to run off into the woods and allowed it to. Or at least explained to those paralysis-happy children to watch out for an uncanny woodland dweller with a Zororak.

Even then, once they were captured, it was surely difficult for them to adjust. They were a pokemon, weren't they? A beast, that's what he'd always been told. No human would be able to speak with creatures that aren't fellow humans. But isn't it the same with Pokemon? So are these pokemon more human than beast, or is he more beast than human? Was it the years of isolation that made it hard to settle in an actual home all by itself, or was it the longing to run free with beasts like him?

N didn't like sitting in that question, so as it always did, it shoved it back into a deep corner of their mind and locked it in a little box with all those other heavy questions. All of the concerns and the old ideologies he forcibly shoves away and represses. It was all he could do, if he wasn't a beast or human. Then who could he be helped by?

Well, it didn't matter. It hadn't even noticed it had finished its plate of early dinner during his lamenting. Having been lazily twirling the fork in nothing for a good few moments to minutes.

"N, my golden child," Zororak began. "Why don't you tuck me away and go speak to other people. You haven't left this little ranch-house in a few days; it will do you some good." They commented, nudging N's back. The soft clacks of things such as potions, a tube for those "PokeBlocks" that a pair of twins had been gifting to everyone on the island, and pokeballs.

"That… Does sound like a good idea." N agreed quietly, fully coming out of their thoughts. "Yeah." They got up off their seat and washed the plate and other utensils he had used swiftly, before shrugging their jacket back on and stringing their hair into a ponytatail once more. If Zororak thought it was a good idea, then N might as well be convinced. This pokemon had single-paw-dedly helped raise him from infancy to now. Always having found its way back to him. N thought of it as a mother and as they say. Mother knows best.

As he exited his home and was met by warm sunshine, he suddenly remembered why they had been so intrigued by the woods and all its inhabitants for oh-so-long. Or well, the week they had been there before they were hospitalized by four sneaky, pokemon hunting children. They couldn't be mad, though. They were apparently uncanny looking, Hilbert having described him as "a bit to long and a little too fluffy, with speech so fast he might as well just be making noises."

But N didn't mind, it simply thought itself as far more built for the wild than the others. But… Thinking about it, that could be the reason why everyone though that of him. As N walked, staring down at the grass in thought. He felt his shoulder bump someone running by.

"Watch it, tall-ass!" A quite foulmouthed voice sounded, making N's eyes flicker to the redhead who was already making a getaway.

"Language!" They simply called back, rolling their eyes, hearing a distant "shut up!" as they made distance with the redhead. "Rude child." He decided, looking up to glance around the circle of homes that they had all settled in during this odd meet up. In a region that nobody seemed to have heard of, at that. It felt weird, it was weird. Why did any of them trust it?

Well, it should speak for itself. It went along, even if dragged on by his group of siblings-by-spirit. Chattering away that if they were all going, he was coming along. That they had already packed everything for him, and that if he refused they'd just sleep powder him and take him along anyway-

Why did I not run off? They thought, realizing the slight horror of that situation. Those kids were needlessly pushy in trying to get N to talk to new people. Dragging him about the cruiser they were in with all the other guests. Introducing him to some of the other kids that Nate and Hugh had already dragged into their mischief.

What were those kids names? Barry and Sapphire, he believes. Sapphire was that young lady who's brother had given him the tube of pokemon candies, if he remembers. Barry was a talkative young boy who seemed to immediately jump ship to play along with Nate and Hugh's pranks. He also remembers a handful of other faces, a married couple he vaugly remembers seeing on a few news casts back in Unova, Red and Green were their names. Along with another lady he didn't recognize, who took quickly to chatting along with Hilbert and Hilda. Rosa had been coaxing a green haired boy out of his shell with who he thinks was Sapphire's brother.

He remembers a few other faces. A circle of kids all taking part in pokemon trading under Lance's watch. Bianca and Cheren, listening to a young boy, chitter away about his brother. Two boys nearly tearing at eachother, and not in a pokemon battle, while their supposed companions either encouraged it or tried to seperate them. One of them was that redhead who had swore at them, he thinks.

But most importantly, he met Mallow and Guzma on that ship. The only two he confidently remembers the names and faces of. Mallow was a sweet woman, a trial captain. She had seen his shivery, nervous nature and pulled him aside from the crowd. He had listened to her talk about cooking and asked a few questions himself. Which is where that interest began. Guzma was… well he can only say he was Guzma. Rough around the edges yet smooth in the soul type, who had introduced him to N's first new species of pokemon in a while. A very, very polite and well mannered Gollisapod. He could sense even before listening to the pokemon that it was well cared for.

It further made their heart pull, obviously the pokemon was battle-scarred. One or two chips on its shell that were healing overtime. But still so… Happy. Pokemon Battles weren't that bad, he knew that. But the confirmation that it was all okay was still nice.

"Hey, you!" A voice snapped him from his thoughts, making him turn. "Yeah, you! Take a few steps back. You almost walked yourself off a cliff."

"Oh- why thank you! I didn't even notice."

"Obviously you didn't," He snorted a little. "You're that N guy that Rosa was telling me about! I'm Ruby, I was out trying to see some new pokemon. But all I caught was you almost about to take a trip off a cliff." Ruby rolled his eyes.

"Well, I was lost in thought. Thank you again for catching me, Ruby. Though I'm sure I would've survived a fall into some sand." N shrugged, examining Ruby as the boy nodded over his shoulder.

"Well… Maybe as a thank you, you could come to the community house where all of us trainers are. Rosa said you had some pretty cool Pokemon that you never let anyone touch the PokeBalls of. It's gotten the group talking." Ruby smiled, eyes crinkling. N paused in thought, feeling the pokeball in his hand he recognized as Zororaks. It wanted them to talk to other people… So they might as well. Even if the idea of presenting their pokemon to people they didn't know made their stomach twist.

"... Okay, alright. I will. Lead the way, Ruby."

#ranger writes #pkmn posting #runs in our family fanfiction #hi :]#feel free to ask questions about it lolz

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bakubitch-minusultra · 3 years

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Not Alone: Chapter One

-> an apocalyptic series with bnha characters but without quirks because im the writer and i can do whatever the fuck i want :3 anywho i hope you enjoy :)) The main love interest will be reader and bakugo i think edit: it is not going to be just bakugo it will be a love triangle k byebye for the second time oh also this is fem reader k bye lol

-> Word Count: 1.9k (I lowkey popped off)

-> Warnings: None rly just mentions of guns and blood

-> Tag list: @5sosfckss @laudthingcat

Chapter One

People would tell you that the world was made for two, but as Y/n sat in the silence of the old cellar two felt like a long lost dream. It was like wind rolling around you gently, trying to persuade you to move in all directions. It’s an ice cream cone on a boardwalk with the sun above and the salty ocean below. It’s a perfect place no one tries to remember.

Any mind left functioning in the world has evolved to be built for pain. Maybe once upon a time there had been a time and place where love and compassion was something for people to look forward to in life.

This wasn't that world anymore.

To Y/n, that type of world never existed anyways. The world had always been a selfish dark place where love is fleeting and the people are brutal. Once upon a time, true love accidentally affected those who were fortunate. But like every other beautiful thing, they polluted and corrupted it, and like everything else, it got sick.

Y/n’s seen it all. And in the end when it’s taken away the people who protested or cried the loudest, were the one who had taken it for granted the most.

Y/n looked around the cellar, in three days she barely moved. It’s her rule and because of it she can leave easier with the feeling of safety. She always ended a shopping trip with a quiet few nights in a cellar or basement.

Y/n wasn’t born to do this, she had to learn to move around quietly, how to sit still. She knew what she had to do to survive. She had lain amongst the dead, she had run through the dark woods, having to feel her eyesite clear like a wild animal and embrace the darkness.

She crept out into the beam of dust lingering in the stale air, sparkling from the sunlight that found its way down two stories into a dark cellar. The beam of light almost made her smile as she admired the light's determination. Y/n shook her head to bring her thoughts back to the harsh reality as she took her first step towards the stairs.

The explosions never seemed to destroy this home in any way. The stairs were in one piece, which had become a bit of a novelty to her. The old farmhouse was too far from any major centers or roads to have even known of the problems, at least in the beginning. The blood stain smears on the white siding outside proved that sickness has touched every single inch of this world.

The hard wood creaked under the weight of her first step. She held her breath and hoped that the creak went unheard. She slowly took another step up as she let out a shaky breath. On the third step she hesitated, listening for any sort of alarming sounds. Her heart was beating like it was trying to free itself from her constricted chest. She waited a second longer, it was another rule of hers. Never leave when you feel safe, always wait three more seconds.

She put her feet on the far sides of the stairs, where the rusty nails attached the boards to the frame. Shallow breaths make sounds in this new world, in the borderlands anyway. There was no electricity, no cars, no phones, no buzz. The world now sits quiet, as if it was sighing and taking a long inhale after what seemed like forever with mankind and the noise pollution. Y/n was at peace when she was at home, but here in the open world she was one of them. One of what was left of humanity. What scrambles to survive, most of the time seperate from everyone else.

Y/n looked through the cellar door and tried to keep her anxious heartbeat low and her breath quiet. She knew that her body needed to make some noises, but others she could control.

The house was simple. Farmhouses were always the best houses according to Y/n. They always sat a long way off the road, not that roads mattered anymore. They always have canning and pickling that would outlast any human. They always have safety supplies and extras of everything. Farmers lived the longest, just as Y/n’s father said they would.

Two trips a year was rarely enough, but Y/n knew that if she traveled any more than that she would be caught.

She walked through the small kitchen and was amazed at how pristine it still was. Everything was still in its place, just as it was the first time she came to the farmhouse, although now layers of dust had found their way into the home, along with the bits of weeds that grew in through the cracks. With no busy grandmother to buzz around cleaning and dusting the mess, everything shows the house’s years of abandonment. Vines grew up the sides of the house, like all houses. As always, she stood against the doorframe and put her hand at the top of her head as her measurement. She turned and looked at how much higher it is than the mark she foolishly put there last time she came.

She looked away from the mark and pushed away the memories of the happy little girl she used to be. She walked low to the ground toward the backdoor. She couldn’t help but laugh inside at how ridiculous it was that she still felt safer going through the backdoor, even though there was no front or back. There were only doors. They didn’t go anywhere anymore. There was no direction.

Nothing goes anywhere.

Y/n positioned the heavy pack on her back carefully. It contained jars full of heart and soul and survival. To Y/n each jar was like a gentle kiss from the old lady who canned and pickled from her own farm of fresh vegetables. She assumed there are no preservatives, no added colorings, no added salt. There weren’t any labels to contradict anything. For all she knew there was MSG in everything. Y/n found herself smiling at the letters MSG, they meant something to humanity once. That was before.

She fought back memories of nice old ladies and the world before. She had been to many worlds in her life, and being nineteen felt more life sixty most days. She took a deep breath and creaked the door open, as if the wind had opened it. She closed it and opened it again. It felt like the wind coming off the brown dirt field was playing with the door.

Her sharp eyes focused on the dirt yard. Nothing moved, everything was standing still. She knew that she should’ve been waiting for the night to travel, but she had stayed too long this time. She needed to get back. Things only lived so long alone, she knew this well. Her garden had died many times before.

The old barn door swung in the soft breeze, making it creak slightly as the long tan grass swayed and small pebbles scuttled along. Everything moved in sync with the wind. Y/n learned how to spot that.

Y/n pulled the door and cringed, she knew this was always the worst part of the walk home. She hated leaving this house.

She felt her eyes squint shot, as the intense light of the sun nearly blinded her. Her pack felt like tons of bricks on her back, but she took her first steps, desperate for the walk to be over with already. She tried not to jostle her bag too much because she didn’t want to break any jars. She learned the hard way that pickle juice is hard to get out and that backpacks were even harder to find.

Walking across the dirt and gravel driveway to the field was the worst. Y/n looked around, walking with her shotgun in her hand. She usually practiced often with her rifle and silencer at home. But on the road she always brought her shotgun. She saw it as her lucky gun. The thick cold metal made her feel strong, even though she knew what strength was.

To her, strength was not pulling the trigger. At this point in life she has yet to prove her strength to her own self. She always took the cowards path. Just like her dad told her to.

Her boots crunched along the path. She walked softly but some noises were unavoidable. She knew the noise would last until she reached the huge wheat field. Then she would be a whisper in the wind. She entered the field without looking back, when she reached the field she knew the rule.

Her legs groaned under the first steps, but after the first quarter mile she started to warm up and she enjoyed running. Her back was the issue, what with the pack being so much heavier than she had ever trained with. She gripped the shoulder straps tight until her arms couldn’t stand it for another second. Even then, she kept pushing until she reached the forest.

She ran deep intothe woods, always on the same side. Never the same path but always the same destination. The branches whipped past her. The edge of the forest was always the thickest. As the forest clears I see him. He’s smiling like always. He’s calm. He doesn’t run and jump. He waits to confirm that she hadn’t brought anything with her. He’s seen them before. He knew how bad it could be. Together both of them had seen the people get swarmed and taken, usually women.

“Hades.” Y/n whispered out of breath.

Instead of the warm greeting they both want, she quickly turned around and held her shotgun up. She walked backwards as Hades sauntered over to watch the forest. They sat behind a tree and waited and after a few minutes she put the pack down gently and climbed one of the huge trees. The thick branches were very rough against her hands. She sat on a branch and looked through her binoculars from the high viewpoint.

She could see the entire field of brown hay from where she was sitting. Y/n let herself have a weak moment and let herself imagine living in the farmhouse one day and harvesting hay. She felt her eyes strain as she tried to find even a single strand of grass moving in a way that would mean she was followed. She looked at the farmhouse sitting still and alone and hoped it would stay that way until her next trip.

She looked past the farmhouse and watched everything move just as it should. After coming to the conclusion that no one had followed her, she climbed down the tree, eager to lay in her own bed.

When her feet touched the dry ground, she looked at Hades, whose yellow eyes confirmed her thoughts. They were alone. She dropped to her knees and greetedhim as he bounded towards her. The large tundra wolf licked her face and raised his massive paws up to hug her. She would hug him so often when he was baby and one day he hugged back.

He nuzzled at her softly and nipped at her arms. She rubbed his huge soft ears and stood up. She patted him gently on his head.

“Ready?” She asked.

She picked up the heavy pack and adjusted to having it on her back again. The walk home would take an entire day if she could manage to keep a solid pace. Hades started the walk home by heading past the old broken oak tree. Their meeting place.

I worked really hard on this and so i hope people enjoy this although ik this chapter is a lil boring but i promise next chapter will be better k goodbye have a good day love u

#k tag time #i worked really hard on this #lol #bnha #mha #apocalypse #mha au #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #fem reader #y/n #reader insert #eek #i dont wanna put the characters names in because they arent in this chapter and i feel like that would be lying #so hopefully people read this #oog #oof*#panty raid

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florencesmachine · 4 years

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tell me what's going on

Why tumblr user donottearmedown/luciequeenofelfame/luciehvrondaie is an embarrassment: a Masterpost

Hi if you’re here it’s because you’ve heard that tumblr user donottearmedown is an embarrassment and you’d like to know all the details! Let me break it down. It all started with this post by @minacarstairs (Tessa (yes @minacarstairs’s name is Tessa sorry if that makes this post confusing)), in which donottearmedown originally reached out to Tessa by sending her something along the lines of “Do you ship heronstairs/herongraystairs?” And Tessa replied with something along the lines of “Yeah lmao herongraystairs rights!”

(I wanna note that Tessa was being very polite, and continues to be very polite to people who disagree with her opinions on heronstairs/herongraystairs. She even began her original conversation with dont tear me down by saying it’s a matter of personal interpretation :) it’s donottearmedown who made the conversation mean-spirited)

(Also Tessa pls correct next if I’m wrong on any of this thnx)

And then sometime later, the conversation above ensues in which donottearmedown, seemingly perfectly reasonable at first, disagrees with the ship and offers a link to look at. (She throws this link around any chance she gets. She really fucking loves this link.) I got involved because in her answer, Tessa replies back with a link from a post I made from my own blog starting back in 2018, and then continued to add to it until my account got terminated (long story). You can read through both posts and check out all the replies! But basically we realized during this interaction that donottearmedown wasn’t looking to have a friendly conversation and was, in fact, batshit crazy. They were saying some absolute brain dead shit like that people shipping heronstairs is the same as people shipping Alec x Clary. Here’s the screenshot:

donottearmedown came back the next day to reply on several of Tessa and mine’s post which she wasn’t even tagged in, such as this one, and this one that had absolutely nothing to do with her because I make that same post every year. Here’s a screenshot from my old account last year via Instagram:

(there are more posts she replied to but I can’t be bothered to look for them, I’m sure you can find them on their blog if you can spare the braincells)

Racism by donottearmedown:

So, Tessa received this anon which tipped us off to some of the other tomfoolery on donottearmedown’s blog. We decided to look for ourselves and lo and behold, here’s the post of donottearmedown accusing Cassandra Clare of having a “Chinese kink” for writing Jessa:

Which, first of all, makes no sense because there’s like 2 Chinese characters in TSC total. If anything CC has a straight white boy kink lmao. But by saying this she was basically implying that the ONLY way Tessa (book!Tessa), or anybody who loves Jem, can love him is if they have a “Chinese kink”. Which donottearmedown can’t seem to be able to understand is an incredibly racist thing to say and think.

They also reblogged this BLM link and proceeded to tag it with absolute nonsense like “#smoke weed #lose weight #wessa”. I don’t know if her intentions were to mock the BLM movement but I still found this to be so incredibly disrespectful and tone deaf.

I also feel like I should mention this ask sent to Tessa in which donottearmedown implies she ~could be~ Asian, but it’s “none of her business anyways” (as if being Asian would absolve anyone of being racist akjsksjsj), but based on the fact that she has a track record of lying and pretending to be a person she’s not (as you will soon see :)) I call bullshit lmao:

I think that was the last of our interactions until today? Tessa and I were distracted because we have, you know, real lives.

But anyway, that brings us to today.

donottearmedown started replying to posts from mine and Tessa’s blogs which she wasn’t tagged in, again, and made several days ago. This one literally wasn’t even about her, it was about someone else that had engaged with one of Tessa’s posts. I made that post over a week ago and had already forgotten about it, but clearly donottearmedown never stops thinking about us 😳

NOW I WOULD LIKE TO POINT OUT THIS POST SPECIFICALLY.

Why? Because donottearmedown and luciequeenofelfame (now luciehervndaie) interacted on this post, as 2 seperate entities. luciequeenofelfame had also interacted with Tessa and I’s original posts at the beginning of June (you can check the replies on the posts!) coming to donottearmedown’s defense, and praising her for her opinions and other shit like that.

Here’s the screenshot. As you can see here, luciehervndaie reblogs from donottearmedown and adds on to their opinion:

Now here’s the kicker: donottearmedown and luciehervndaie are the same person.

As in, this bitch literally made up a second blog so that she can pretend to be someone else agreeing with her own opinions and cheering herself on.

Here’s the proof:

I made this post calling out donottearmedown on their racism. I didn’t bother tagging her in the original post because I knew she was stalking my blog and would see it eventually anyway. 😌 And they took the bait, as you can see.

AND THEN I got the notification that luciequeenofelfame had replied to my post. Here’s the reply:

Now here’s where donottearmedown/luciequeenofelfame made an oopsie! 😳

Notice where luciequeenofelfame says “1. I didn’t delete it lmao”. She’s responding to my tags on this post where I’m calling out donottearmedown on her racist post, and my tags read:

“#the fact you went and deleted this post because you KNEW you were about to get slammed #comedy”

(context: @wilhelminacarstairs looked on donottearmedown’s blog recently looking for the post I screenshotted in the link above, and he couldn’t find it so I assumed she deleted it so that I wouldn’t call her out on it. Although she claims she didn’t delete it, so! Maybe it’s still up! Feel free to look for it and let me know lmao)

Now, in the tags I am obviously talking to donottearmedown, correct? So then why is luciequeenofelfame replying that she didn’t delete anything? 🤔 AND JUST AS IM ABOUT TO REPLY-

Wow, looks like I can’t reblog the post. Why? Because luciequeenofelfame has deleted it, and then IMMEDITALY changed her url to luciehvrondaie, hoping it would cover her tracks. Little does she know, tumblr notifications are forever:

As you can see, donottearmedown/luciequeenofelfame/luciehervndaie realized they made an oopsie, so she deleted her first response and posted it again from the blog she actually MEANT to post it from. Damn if only she knew that @minacarstairs @wilhelminacarstairs and I keep screenshots of e v e r y t h i n g :/ Then she might have gotten away with it! 😩

But yeah lmao here are the posts I made about it immeditaly afterwards calling her out on it because I thought it was funny: X X X X

She defends herself on some of them saying shit like “wow so I’m just making up blogs for support wessa? The majority of the fandom supports Wessa so I’m all of those blogs according to you? I’m thousands of people?!” Or just trying to change the topic back to heronstairs and ignoring the allegations altogether. Like, no luv we’re not saying you’re every single Wessa blog ever. We’re just saying you’re these 2, and we’re right lmao. If you look through both their blogs they also post about the same fandoms, and more damning, make a lot of the same spelling errors. Seriously their speech pattern is exactly the same. Feel free to look through them if you want, and if they don’t start mass-deleting post trying to cover their tracks.

BONUS:

I don’t know how true this is, but according to @fair-but-wilde-child on this ask, donottearmedown is ALSO the infamous twitter stan that complained to CC about TLH having too many gay characters.

EXTRA BONUS:

luciequeenofelfame/luciehvrondaie (donottearmedown’s second account 😌) is the account responsible for that wessa vs jessa comparison chart that went around a while ago LMAOOOOOOOO embarrassing

tl;dr: donottearmedown/luciequeenofelfame/luciehvrondaie is a biphobic racist who’s opinions are so bad she has to make a second account to agree with herself

🥺 tragic

Also I wanna say for the record, as @minacarstairs ans @wilhelminacarstairs will testify, I guessed a while ago these accounts were the same person when I noticed their speech patterns were eerily similar, and how luciequeenofelfame always seemed to reply to donottearmedown’s posts IMMEDITATELY after they were posted.

So the lesson for today? Cinthia is always right. 😤

#WHEW this took a while but here u go #feel free to scroll back through my blog and see the posts #also ive tagged almost everything from these interactions with her url #donottearmedown #replies #bidrewtanaka #long post

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divineluce · 4 years

Text

All As It Should Be || Jared, Morgan, & Luce

Timing: May 31st, 2020

Location: Jared’s Farm

Tagging: @themidnightfarmer, @mor-beck-more-problems, & @divineluce

Description: After their run in with a brain biter, Luce and Morgan visit Jared in hopes of returning their memories to their rightful owners.

Triggers: Needles CW

Driving up to Jared’s farm, Luce squinted at the fences, trying to keep an eye out for… anything that wasn’t the typical kinda cow and sheep stuff that she usually saw around the property. Nell had told her about what Jared’s farm really was, and how he might be able to help her and Morgan out with their misplaced memory situation. Glancing over at the other woman sitting in the passenger seat of her car, Luce offered a tired grimace in what she hoped looked something like a smile. “We’re gonna get this shit figured out.” She said with a nod. She was going to get her memories of her sisters back. It had taken her some time to sift through her childhood-- she’d never really examined her experiences with a fine toothed comb like this-- but the ones Morgan had been given were… precious to her. More precious now, in the wake of Bea’s death, but… she still wanted them back. Pulling up to the farmhouse, Luce parked the car and strode up to the door, knocking authoritatively.

Morgan fidgeted guiltily in the passenger side seat. Luce’s memories were--well, kind of perfect. They were warm, and complete. The love Luce had felt in those moments, the absurd happiness, was a kind Morgan didn’t even know was possible. Even her old memories of her dad were colored with the resignation that Ruth would be home in an hour or two, or they’d have to answer to her for going off plan, or they were spending time together in the first place because Ruth had asked him to ‘deal with her.’ There was a counterweight on her heart, even when she was that small. She had told herself it was balance, but Luce’s time with her sisters was whole and pure by itself. Morgan turned over the one she had in her mind of her hair being braided, a perfectly nestled cog in the three sister line. Bea sometimes pulled too hard, and Morgan--Luce, rather, wondered if she did it on purpose just to mess with her. Luce did it to Nell enough times, after all. The ends of her hair tickled her back as Bea moved her hair in little strands. Something spicy and sweet floated in from the kitchen, Bea’s bread. Nell figited and Luce smacked her lightly to stay still and it was all just--how they were. Morgan wondered if Luce could tell how happy she really was in the moment, or if the was too busy being in it to notice. Morgan couldn’t wrap her head around it. That happiness had only come to her in flashes with Deirdre, and even then… “O-oh, yeah,” she muttered. “That’s...sorry.” Much as Luce’s memories put a big ol’ neon sign that said ‘Yes, Morgan, you DO have trauma’ over her alive-life, the middle Vural really did get the raw end of the deal. Mourning her sister, and knowing how low Morgan’s lows were? Yikes didn’t begin to cover it, even if it was the only term Morgan could bear to use.

Morgan shook her head and scooped Brainy, safe in her mason jar, into her arms. She rocked on her heels at the door, cradling the jar carefully. “And we’re um, hundred percent positive this guy’s got the fix? And he’s Jared, right?”

It felt odd to Jared that despite knowing Luce for years, this time when she was headed to the farm she was going to cross the property line. Finally in the know about the real state of the place. In preparation for their arrival Jared had moved his herds. Not usually one to coop them up he apologised repeatedly as he forced the bies to move away from the main gates, so that the girls arrival wouldn’t be at risk to either them or his kids. It was an odd sort of process he then started to go through, he’d only ever heard of extraction before, last winter when he’d travelled he’d learned about the process across the borders. To carry one out was an entirely different thing however, he hoped he had the theory correct in his head. So when he heard the knock he moved to open the door with a menagerie of things in his arms. Jared used his elbow to open the door for them and jerked his head to usher them inside. “Hey.” he greeted awkwardly, eyes on Luce for a moment. He wasn’t 100% sure what Nell had told her but it felt so strange to have been outed in this way. “So...brainbiter?” He flashed the other girl a curious glance, if only to avoid any judgement he might get from the vural sister. “Got the kitchen table set up with some stuff I think will do the trick. Preparing the memory after extraction I have no idea about though I’ll admit. Although I grow supplies for some of the stores in town so maybe I have what might be needed in the greenhouse.” He looked between the both of them and then let the tools in his arms clatter onto the surface. “Shall we uh….start?”

Casting Morgan a grateful look as they stood at the door, Luce did her best to smile at the man when he opened the door. Just the same as ever, Jared looked just the same as he usually did. Their interactions had been limited to her waving at him as she ran by the farm or the occasional drink at Dell’s over the last couple years. But, he was a good dude, all things considered. At least, that’s what she’d thought before Nell told him just what his farm was. “Hey, Jare.” She said with an attempt at her typical roguish grin. “This is Morgan, by the way. Friend of mine and also bitten by,” She tilted her head to the glowing bug stuck in the mason jar, the top of the jar covered with cheesecloth to give it air to breathe. “That little jerk.” She said with a nod. Following Jared inside, she rested her hands on the table as she mulled over his words. “But you know how to extract it?” She asked, folding her bare arms across her chest as she regarded the tools on the table. Fingers running over a small knife, she cast a sidelong look at the bug in the jar. “The big issue is making sure that Morgan and I get our memories back in the right places. The bug didn’t just eat our memories, it accidentally swapped them. I don’t know shit about this sort of magic, so…” She winced, “I’m not really sure what to do. Morgan, you got any ideas..?”

Morgan held out a hand awkwardly to shake. She’d called in her fair share of favors before, but this was a friend of Luce’s doing the family a favor. There was no payment or trade-off on her end to account for. She smiled, tight, and handed Brainy to their new friend. “Uh, well, I’m a little too undead to actually scan for magic, but something tells me that the part down there that’s all glow-y might be the key. Conjuring conventions I’m familiar with would suggest some kind of dissection so we can access all the stuff in there, and then a homing or tracking spellcraft of some sort so we pick out only the stuff we need. And then...I mean we would have to have the cure put into us orally, or injected. I’m not very...castable. But that’s just an ex-witch’s best guess.”

Jared followed Luce’s indication towards the brainbiter in the jar. He gave Morgan a smile and shook her hand before holding out said hand for the jar. The girls spoke amongst themselves as Jared placed himself on the other side of the table from them. He tipped the jar over carefully and considered what to do. He supposed some crushed california poppy would soothe the little thing long enough to be safely held to the table. “Yes, the extraction will be from the thorax. We remove the memories, I think I remember someone saying different memories have different taste to them? So maybe they’ll seperate if we evaporate off the extra liquid in the stomach?” He wasn’t an expert, but he felt maybe that was a good explanation. He wasn’t very knowledgeable about how they might go about doing that, but he at least knew that it might be needed. “What do you think?” Jared asked the two as he set about crushing up the flower he’d picked earlier. “Might need more than that but it’s a starting theory?”

Nodding her head at both of their ideas, Luce tried to think back to her childhood studies of some of the finer points of magical theory, of potion brewing, and basic botany. That shit had never been her area of expertise-- it never felt as natural to her as letting the flames within her surge from her fingertips. It always felt as though she was forcing the magic out, instead of letting it do as it wished. But… Morgan had a good point. And so did Jared, surprisingly enough. Not that she doubted him or anything, it was still just surprising. “Evaporating the liquid sounds good to me, that I can do. And if they’re different densities, hopefully we’d just be able to physically switch them around. Wouldn’t tell us which one is which, but I guess I could try a homing spell?” Her fingers itched at the idea. She wasn’t good at tracking spells, she wasn’t good at drawing wards. And, if her magic backfired, there was a good chance it would destroy the memories. “Would you be able to help me draw up a ward for it? I know you can’t cast, but you remember how it all works. I’ve never focused on this kind of magic before.” She said to Morgan before looking at Jared and the brain biter that was crawling docilely on the table. “You sure that thing won’t try to make a meal of us now that it’s out?”

This Jared guy seemed nice enough, willing to help, to collaborate. Morgan couldn’t help but wonder how it would have been, to just have someone you could call whenever, time after time, and for them to essentially drop everything to help. She looked around the room, feeling herself rising from the earth, dry wallpaper flaking, peeling upwards because it was past its time. She shouldn’t be acting like this was news, that other people, not-cursed people, got to enjoy a lot of good simple things. Luce’s balance was fucked, and hers--that space where that first night had been ached like a freshly pulled tooth. She kept reaching for it, ragged cavity-eaten edges and all. Without it, her head felt off-kilter. How had she gotten here? Why was everything so absurdly hard? And the pit inside her… Morgan didn’t want to think about the pit. She tugged on her hair, bringing her focus down to the physical plane. She started rummaging around the corners of the room for paper and pencil. “I can sketch out an array that can call for what we need,” she said flatly. “You’ll have to do it over, you need to be connected to it, and putting your feeling into it as your working will make the actual casting stronger. But I can draw it up, walk you through the process. There’s a lot of overlap when it comes to circle magic, if that helps you any. Bug man, I trust you to do the thing, but as long as we get un-jigsawed, I don’t think either of us care what happens to it.”

Spells and magic were still a bit of a mystery to Jared. He was a nymph, and while Nell had told him about this and that over the years he was still nowhere near understanding when Luce and Morgan started off about drawing symbols. He assumed they’d look something like Nells summoning tattoos so he just pointed out helpfully when Morgan went looking for paper. “Oh she’ll not cause any more trouble. The vapours of the flowers will keep her docile.” to illustrate the point Jared placed his fingers directly in front of the little brainbiter and it simply nudged into his skin and then bumbled in the other direction as if punchdrunk. He raised his eyebrows at being called the ‘bug guy’ and corrected “Jared. And we’re not going to do anything drastic. We don’t have to. Little angel is going to walk out of here with the memories she should have just like the two of you.” he said firmly, looking between the girls so there was no misunderstanding. And with that he turned around and moved to find an empty butter tub to put the memories in once extracted.

As Luce stared at the brain biter on the table, she swallowed nervously-- the ghost of a memory that wasn’t hers to know washed over her and, for a moment, she could feel the lump of flesh and stringy animal tendon sliding down her throat. Her lips, her mouth, they were coated in blood. Closing her eyes for a moment, she did her best to push the memories away, but that only made them stronger. She could feel the muted, subdued barely there pressure of the woman-- Deirdre-- placing her hand under her-- Morgan’s-- chin. Grimacing, Luce opened her eyes and let out a quiet swear in Turkish. “We need to get those fucking memories out of it. Out of her. Whatever.” She said before following Morgan over to where she retrieved a piece of paper and got ready to mirror whatever bit of magic she was meant to do. She just needed these fucking… thoughts out of her. “Your little angel, huh, Jared? Angel of fucking misery.” She muttered under her breath. “What kind of place is this anyways? All Nell told me was that you’d be able to help us out with this. That you were like… on the level and shit.” She said with a shake of her head. She never would have pegged Jared for being part of the strange reality that surrounded them.

Morgan bristled as Luce seemed to tense with another flashback of Morgan’s. She didn’t know how to apologize for being so cursed without sounding bitter about it. And maybe in a way she was. Everyone had their shit and there was not such thing as a contest for the suffering olympics, but, sue her, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like if she had been able to be loved like that, to keep a love like that, throughout the bulk of her life. Something steady enough that she could take it for granted. And it wasn’t Luce’s fault, she reminded herself, that she acted like one whole memory of being a zombie was the worst punishment in the world. Morgan feared the unknown bottom of the pit inside her, but she knew enough about the past few weeks to appreciate her miserable condition. There had to be a reason she was so desperate to stay on top of her medication. She began to make the circle itself, practicing the motions with her hand before picking up the pencil. She noticed Luce beginning to look over her shoulder and put out a hand for her to stop. “Let me figure it out first,” she said. She hadn’t had to sketch a magic circle in over a month, but her hands remembered how to work the pencil. Working outward in, just like her parents taught her how, she sectioned off the circle. This was mostly her study brain at work, and a little guessing. She knew the sigils for memory, the arrangement of triangles for retrieval. She’d never put them together, but circle magic was like math. If you understand the formula, you can understand almost anything you put into it. After only a few eassures and do overs, Morgan was done. She looked at her handiwork, then labeled each stroke she’d made, spiraling inward. “Moving clockwise is traditional,” she explained. “Knock yourself out. And focus on what you want to get back instead of what you want to get rid of.” She stuck her hands deep in her pockets and looked over at Jared. “Sorry we’re not too hot on the bundle of joy.”

“Yeah, she’s just doing what she was hatched to do. Memories are her deal just as much as this magic sorta thing is yours I guess.” Jared said having nudged the little biter into a gentle but firm grip. He figured the little thing was dizzy enough that even the little discomfort that would be coming once the magic portion of the procedure was set up. While Morgan worked Jared was caught, no distractions from Luce and her questions. “Nell keeps secrets really close to her chest huh?” he mumbled both appreciating the fact and also not really sure how Luce would react and wishing Nell had done it for him. “Oh you know...the cows aren’t cows, the deer aren’t deer, and the dogs aren’t dogs.” he started off weakly before just ripping off the bandaid. “There’s not been any regular livestock on the farm since my ‘parents’ left.” He put air quotes around the word. “Vicious creatures need some love too, they need a safe place to breed and live and flourish just as much as the next animal. That’s my job. That’s what I was born to do. That’s what this place is.” He looked between the girls and shrugged. “We don’t get a good reception. My charges are used to being considered dangerous and disgusting. It’s fine if you're not a fan. Just don’t think I’ll be very hospitable if one of you decides to come for her. She’s going to leave just as you two are.” At the sight of the finished work on the paper he lifted a little more of the crushed flower. “Ready to go? One of you want to hold her? I’ll need both hands to get the needle through the thorax.”

At Morgan’s words, Luce disengaged, stepping back and letting the woman do her work. She couldn’t blame her for her reluctance to try and do something like this. Every time she’d flashed back to that memory, there was something else that rocked the very fiber of her being. When she’d first felt it, she’d thought it might just be the lack of connection to her body, to the lifeless, still flesh that housed “her” mind. But, after days of having the memory forced into her mind, she’d been able to piece together just what that overwhelming discomfort was-- it was the lack of magical connection. Her entire life, she’d been aware of the flames that burned within her, the energy that tethered her to the universe around her. It was what guided her through all things, in a way. And in that moment, seeing through Morgan’s eyes? She knew what it felt to float, aimless, directionless, through the unfeeling void of space. And that was her reality, even now as she put pencil to paper and drew circles that she could never again use.

Swallowing, Luce turned to look at Jared, tight-lipped. “Yeah. Nell does that.” They all did it. Bea never told them about her necromancy. Nell never told her about what she’d done to August, her involvement with this “Ring,” not until it was too late. But, then again… She didn’t tell them why she went out in the forest during the rainstorms. They all played their cards close to their chest. “Your “parents”?” She asked, expression turning confused before she shook her head. “Don’t think I’m going to forget that.” She said before picking up the pencil once more and began to mimic the circle that Morgan had done. It was similar to the geometric patterns she drew, but she poured power into every stroke of graphite. The dark smears glowed the color of blue smoldering coals as she tried to focus away from flame and towards tracking. She had to get this right. She had to focus.

Morgan shoved the paper to Luce to look at better and stood away from the rest. She needed to think about something else. Like, maybe she wasn’t meant to have memories like Luce’s, maybe she really was terrible and couldn’t be trusted with that kind of stability anymore than hunters trusted her with her appetite—nope. Don’t go there. Luce had mentioned what it felt like that first night. Not too different from the rest of her new reality, but something in her gut wanted to push it away. It was awful in its own way, how little changed for her while not having it. Forgetting the past didn’t make her present any less—nope.

She ambled over to where Jared worked, leaning down on the counter until she was nearly eye to eye with the specimen. “I guess I can’t blame her for having a bad reputation,” she sighed. “So if the cows and everything else aren’t really...whatever. What are they? Is this some kind of spooky sanctuary?” She smirked dryly and flexed her fingers before straightening up. “I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed to not be a fan. Whatever the hell we are, we have to stick together.” You know, when they weren’t accidentally hurting each other. She offered out her hands and hovered them over the bug, ready to keep her still.

Jared had no idea what the girls were going through. Jared himself had never experienced any memory augmentation from any creature. Honestly he wasn’t really aware of the serious emotional effects the memory swap had on the girls. He was more focused on the creature they’d brought to him. Glad at least that they hadn’t done something drastic to the poor girl. Or rather he was focused on the critter until he noticed the look on Luces’ face. With absolutely no tact he mumbled “She really messed you guys up huh?” Only belatedly catching himself and making a disgruntled face and shaking his head to indicate no answer was needed, he knew what that sounded like.

He moved the hands holding the brainbiter for Morgan. “Don’t be too hard, she won’t wriggle away. But she will wriggle a little.” He warned. Jared released the brainbiter and moved to pick up the needle. He hesitated only a moment to make sure Morgan was ready before he set in about getting their memories removed. The little biter made a small screech at which Jared made a small noise of distress as well but didn’t stop as he pulled the plunger out to remove their memories from the bug. He moved slow, but watched the glow from the thorax dissipate. Narrowing his eyes the less the light emanated. Jared placed the syringe in the butter container and lifted the little biter into his hands to help seal the injection hole gently with a little salve. Observing the creature carefully. He’d been told side effects might be a little wild.

The circle flowed from the pencil tip with ease and Luce used that to ground her magic. It was easier to think about than the fact that none of this came natural to her. This magic wasn’t her forte by a long shot-- it wasn’t even something she was good at. But, she had to get those memories back. After a long moment, she set the pencil back down and looked at the image before her. It was a simple enough circle, with curving swirls making up the interior, with two smaller circles at opposite ends. It looked a bit different from the one Morgan had drawn, but this one felt right to her. Because it was all she could manage to make. “Yeah, she really did.” Luce said with a long look at Jared, at the bug biter that sat on the table. She watched as he slid the needle into the bug’s thorax and ignored the small screech of protest. That thing had her memories. Had switched hers and Morgan. If lighting it on fire would have fixed things, she would have done that the second she realized what had happened.

When Jared laid out the syringe of strange liquid on the butter dish, Luce nodded. “Thanks… For all of this.” She looked at him from behind tired, pained eyes. “Next time we go out for drinks, they’re on me.” With that, she turned to face Morgan. “I’m not good enough at this shit to make a proper tracking circle-- I tried, but… No dice. We need to put a bit of ourselves into the spell, to make sure that the right memories get guided back to us. Maybe like… hair or some spit or whatever. I don’t know. But it needs to be powerful enough to sift the memories out.” She said, gesturing to the paper before them.

Morgan side eyed Luce, trying to bite back a scowl. She wanted her to just be able to handle it. Put that magic connection she still had with the universe to good use and fix it. If Morgan were still alive, still a witch, she would already be halfway done. Maybe it wouldn’t have worked straight away, but she would be doing something. She would be finding plans B through D until it was right. But Luce’s happy times and the sore cavity in her mind where her first zombie memories began were making her bitter and off-kilter. And Luce, much as Morgan was annoyed with her lack of direction in this moment, didn’t deserve to hang onto Morgan’s pain forever. The kind of gratification she got from someone knowing exactly how fucked her deal was, how there was fuck all to be jealous of--it was a cold, cruel kind of feeling. She couldn’t let it comfort her. That wasn’t something it could do.

“Saliva,” she said. “Maybe spinal fluid if we wanted to get real gross and fancy, but saliva ought to do the trick. It’s not that complicated, I promise. Like calls to like, laws of attraction--even fake hippie witches know that.” She winced, realizing how bitter that sounded. “Sorry. But I know how to do it. I’ll help you.” When the biter’s part was done, she lifted her hands, carefully, and came around behind Luce. “Okay, this section here, that is where we put in what we want. So we’re going to grab some small vessels…” She reached behind her quickly for something that would do. “And add saliva to each one. One for you, one for me. This spot, on the edge?” She moved Luce’s hands. “This is what we offer in the bargain. Lucky for us, it’s just your energy. Your willpower…” She went through the details, explaining the purpose of each section and what sigil meant what so Luce could have optimal control. She put her hands in position. “Okay,” she said. “Now breathe. Slowly, in and out. Put everything in your head on just breathing. And then, when you’re ready, think about what you want to bring to you, and say these words.” She spoke the incantation into her, carefully, in time to the way she wanted Luce to breathe and concentrate. She whispered it again, until it became a chant. She would know how to do it. She would be able to do this. She had to, damnit. If she didn’t, she didn’t want it bad enough.

Jared massaged the little brain biter to soothe the pain of the needle. Mumbling soft words to her as if she could understand english, although he would argue to the death about how a soothing tone was the end to most issues with the creatures he loved. Even if that wasn’t strictly true. He met Luce eyes to eye and nodded slightly at her offer of thanks and repayment. “I’m happy to help where I can Luce, don’t worry about it.” Although if she did end up buying a round of drinks he would definitely not be passing that opportunity up. It was at this point that his expertise ended. He had one main interest, he had one main objective in life, and he had one main set of knowledge. And it ended with the little biter in his hands. The magic the girls concocted was completely beyond his understanding. He took a few full steps back from his own kitchen table to just be out of the way as he watched the process unravel. Daring not to say a single word to interrupt what seemed to be a complicated series of steps and focuses.

Morgan was so much better at this than she was. Luce knew that. And with the burden of the other woman’s memories, the knowledge of how lost she felt without her connection to the magic, she had even the barest understanding of how this was making her feel. “Spit it is. This will be over soon.” She said quietly, not sure if her words were meant to reassure her that they’d both have their memories back or if the pain of guiding her through this process would end. Listening to the other woman’s instructions, she followed her words to a T. Setting the dish with the brain biter fluid on top of the paper in the center of the ward, she spit into the small glass that Morgan handed her and set it on one of the twin circles. Once Morgan had done the same and all the pieces were in place, she let out a sigh to prepare herself.

Focusing on her breath as the former witch instructed, Luce allowed the power inside her to run through her finger tips, flowing into the ward on the page. She could feel the slight burn of magical energy flowing through her as the ward began to draw from the two elements they’d fed into the spell, using their essence to guide the magic. The glowing fluid in the bowl began to separate even more, flowing out of the butter dish and into the small cups of saliva that sat before them as Luce spoke the incantation. The fluid’s progress was slow and clunky, but with patience and willpower, soon the butter dish was empty and their small glasses were full. Reaching for her glass, she looked to Morgan. “Cheers.”

Morgan stared at her glass. She wanted this. Needed this, probably. She and Luce shouldn’t have been knocked out of their boxes in the first place. Balance needed to be restored. And yet she hesitated, staring at the cloudy substance in her glass. Stars, for all she knew it wouldn’t even work without her taking her share. She picked it up, swilled the contents. How much more miserable could she get than she was right now. Morgan banged the glass on the table and downed it like a shot.

Biter juice didn’t taste like anything to her. Mostly she felt like she was swallowing down a big loogie. But a few moments after, her head felt heavy, dizzy-like, as her brain re-scrambled itself back into place. Morgan reached back without thinking. That night, that terrifying nothing night, like she wasn’t real, she was in a nightmare and nothing was real. “Fuck!” She dropped the glass, hard enough to shatter it on the countertop. The sound tipped the atmosphere in the room and Morgan shoved her hands into her pockets, not looking at anyone. “Sorry. Good news is it worked.” She said stiffly. Fists clenched where no one could see, Morgan started counting down things from five before she fell into a spiral.

Following suit, Luce banged the glass on the table and tossed it back. The mixture was denser than she expected, slimy, and she had trouble getting it down. But, she forced herself to choke down the mixture and… waited. She wasn’t sure how it was meant to come back to her, how the memories were meant to right themselves in her mind. Waiting impatiently, she did her best to try and sift through the memories, to find the holes that had been poked into her mind. And, more importantly, she tried to feel for Morgan’s memory. But, where there had once been painful, agonizing bodily reality of first hand experience, the thought was muted. It was a memory of a memory, muted as her mind realized that no, it hadn’t been her own. No, she hadn’t been subjected to that… half-life. She was whole and human and alive.

But Morgan wasn’t. And she knew, in some small way, how much the reality of her new existence hurt. “Yeah. Yeah, it worked.” She said, her shoulders sagging as she leaned against the kitchen counter, her hands careful to avoid the bits of glass. “Thanks for the help, Jared. And uh… sorry for the glass.”

The biter in Jared’s hand was waking up from it’s herb induced stupor a little and he needed to find a spot to let it scuttle off into the woods again soon. But he didn’t interrupt the girls as they lifted the glasses from the table and choked down the liquid inside. He imagined it would taste rotten, the texture being no better -at least from what he’d seen when it was being created. He flinched at the sound of the shattering glass but didn’t say a word until both girls had confirmed that they had all the needed back where it was meant to be. Satisfied that all present were well and accounted for he offered a smile. “Back in place. Good. No lasting damage done.” he chirped popping the biter in the big pocket on his jacket and using his sleeve to brush the broken glass to the edge of the table for easy clean up later.

“Glass is no issue, so much stuff breaks around here I have spares on spares in the basement.” He hesitates and decides then. He trusted Luce, even if he didn’t know Morgan at all, now that Luce was in the know about the farm he felt alright about leaving her to take her friend when they felt up to it. “Afraid I have a few of my herd calving, Have to go check in on them and also make sure they steer clear of the gates so you both can head out. No rush, take your time to feel fit to drive alright? Me ca-sa soup ca-sa. You know.” He waved a hand Around the place before heading off. He had to feed the little biter before she was sent off in the hopes she wouldn’t catch any more potentially negative attention for herself.

#p: aaisb #p: morgan beck #p: jared gordon #wickedswriting #needles cw #//jared continues to be best boy lol

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vanillamilkcloud · 4 years

Text

UNDER THE TREE || RM

pairing: Single Dad! RM x Baker! Reader

word count: 2,497

tags: fluff, some cookies were burnt, flour got in some spots, theres hot cocoa, domestic as hell, christmas obviously.

summary: after a visit to their favorite baker, Namjoon cant wrap presents for his boys. so with snagging your number some previous hours ago he decides to call for some help.

Kids were always hard, no matter what anyone did to try and help. Especially having two and also being a single dad. Though Namjoon had a way with the two that almost everyone wished they had with their kids. He had coaxed the boys into waking up this morning only to have them instantly asking about going to the bakery. It had become a sort of routine, once a week he’d show up at the door and instantly Hoseok would babble about everything he wanted while Yoongi pointed to things while hiding behind Namjoon’s leg.

And that was exactly your situation right now. Covered in flour, and some frosting on your cheek, standing behind the counter of the store.

“I want this and this and a cake pop and cake!” Hoseok giggled happily, his gloved hands pressed against the glass happily. Namjoon looked at you apologetically before glancing at what his son wanted.

“Cookie, you know you cant have all of that-” The blonde male had only started to speak before he saw you walking around the counter, handing the 4 year old a cake pop. At 8am, might you add. His baby voice was too hard to resist giving the sweets to him.

“Says who?” You gave an equal smile to the toddler’s as he squealed.

“Thank you noona!” He had already devoured the sweet in a happy fit of giggles. You couldn’t help but giggle at the bits of chocolate around his mouth. For a moment you had thought you heard Yoongi speak, only to be correct as he held his arms up. Namjoon chuckled softly.

“Sugar, what are you doing?”

“I want up.” He murmured, taking his chance to hide behind you now. You shrugged then picked up the small boy. Yoongi had instantly nuzzled into your chest, his little cheeks red from the cold. It made you frown though you knew you couldn’t help it.

“Can I give them mini mugs of hot cocoa Joonie?” You asked, fluttering your eyes in that way you knew would make Namjoon give into you. He let out a small groan as you looked absolutely perfect to him right now, and like the kids were actually both of yours. But Namjoon hadn’t had the courage to ask you yet to see if this relationship could actually.. be something. He had to think about plenty of other things right now besides having his bed warm again, and the boys having a mom finally.

“Do you even have mini mugs?”

You grinned happily before nodding, walking behind the counter with Yoongi in your arms and Hoseok trailing behind you. It was a bit hard to lean downward before pulling out two baby mugs and some straws. You put them on the counter carefully. “I got them just for these two little dudes. Just make sure to bring them when you guys come.”

Yoongi made grabby hands at one of them, so you let him take the cup. His eyes held a type of curiousity you hadn’t ever actually seen in him. The boy was generally shy and quiet but you seemed to understand now how Namjoon managed to know what he wanted constantly. It was rather cute in your eyes as you could catch Hoseok almost drooling over all the pastries behind the glass, and then whining as he wanted up too. You couldnt carry the both of them though.

Namjoon on the other hand, was more than happy with his open fawning over you. You were such an angel with the boys and it made him more than happy with his trips. Hoseok was more than ready to expose his dad though.

“Daddy staring!” He giggled brightly, looking up to his dad through the glass. It caused a chain reaction as Yoongi was more than happy to join in. “Does dada like noona?”

A bright blush covered the male’s cheek in an instant. He was quick to recover though as you couldnt help but to laugh while filling up the two mugs, hanging mini candy canes off the edge. “No, I dont like _____ Sugar.” Namjoon replied.

“Not what Uncle Jinnie said!”

Namjoon facepalmed, shaking his head with a groan. He’d need to have a serious talk with that man later. “Uncle Jinnie tricked you okay? What do you want for breakfast?”

That seemed to change the topics easily, you placing the hot chocolates in Namjoon’s hands to cool off before letting the boys point while behind the glass. Both of them seemed rather happy to have your candy cane donuts, the one treat youd serve only on Christmas Eve and Christmas. Namjoon had asked for his usual strawberry bagel with cream cheese, so then you were free to go back to the kitchen once more.

“Byebye noona!!” The boys called out, making you grin.

“Youll see me next week, this isnt bye babies!” You replied. Namjoon couldnt help but laugh as the two were instantly excited all over again. Except, he came here to do something too, so he came up to the window to your kitchen quickly.

“Wait, ___,” The blonde seemed shy, but you couldn’t help but to smile at him.

“Did you forget something?”

He gave you a nod, and you looked at him curiously. “I forgot your number, can you give it to me again?”

The words that fell out of his mouth made you laugh, as you had essentially walked into him saying that yet you still felt dumbfounded. How was he that smooth? "Mm, give me your phone then, I'll put it in."

Namjoon complied with the words as he was smiling happily; a few of the customers in the store seemed to only cheer for him. You wanted to run away from the situation but you couldn't deny him like that! On Christmas Eve either, you had no hope. Within a few moments you handed the phone back with a bit of flour over the case.

"Oh lord, I'm sorry. I didnt mean to get flour on it."

"Don't be," Namjoon grinned. "Im used to you leaving flour prints on what you touch by now."

He gave you a wave, and went back to his kids. You hummed softly as you went into the back of the store before finding yourself trying to quietly squeal. Namjoon had actually asked you for your number! What you didn't know was that everyone had actually heard your little squeal, and it couldnt help but make everyone laugh as you fawned over your crush. Everyone knew for ages that you both had a thing for each other and now it seemed to get somewhere.

After a long day at work, and perhaps burning a few things in your distraction, you’ve finally made it home. The call of your bed seems almost instantly heeded. But there’s other things you need to do.

Namjoon, on the other hand, is struggling to wrap presents. He had taken quite some time just to wrap simple box shapes and now this gift wrapping thing seemed impossible to him. There was blankets and stuffed animals to be wrapped still, along with pillows and bed sheets that Hoseok had wanted because of them being PJ Mask themed. It was also an issue of he didn’t happen to have enough paper to finish wrapping anything. The blonde combed a hand through his hair with a soft groan; He couldn’t leave the house to get any extra paper because then nobody was home with the boys. The male also didn’t want to leave them with anyone, so he scrolled through his phone contacts, clicking your name with a soft hum.

“Hello?” You asked, clearly a bit tired so Namjoon was almost tempted to hang up then and there.

“Hey _____.” He chuckled softly as he once again couldnt figure out how to wrap the damned elephant plushie.

“Oh, hi Joonie! What’s up?”

“I, um, well. I can’t wrap the kids presents so I thought you might be able to help. I don’t happen to have any paper or that left either, and I cant leave to get any.” Namjoon sighed softly as he tossed the paper in the trash once again, leaning against the sofa as he sat on the floor. “I swear I’ll pay you back for it, I just didn’t know who else to call.”

You giggled through the line, pretending to think in silence. It was almost audible how nervous he was. “I can come help. Can you text me your address then?”

“Yeah I can, thank you so much.”

The line went dead after that, as Namjoon sent you their address. He took the opportunity to go check on the boys. It had to be quick because Yoongi was a light sleeper unless Hoseok happened to move into his bed. Namjoon was certain those two would be inseperable later on, so he never bothered to seperate them. He opened the door quietly after making sure the hall light was off, only to chuckle as the boys were indeed under one blanket. With similar quietness he shut the door once again before walking to the kitchen and starting to brew a pot of coffee. The father didn’t happen to have any more hot chocolate either right now, as much as he knew you had a preference for the drink.

Namjoon let his thoughts wonder about you as he drew two mugs out of the cabinet, and not mini ones this time. The house was quiet besides the gentle christmas songs playing on the radio. Gingerbread had filled the air as hours ago the boys insisted to make gingerbread men for Santa, even left out with the milk on a plate with their notes. They were such precious things to him, the father felt a bit sad to realize that this is what their mother had decide to miss out on. But he also was happy because she wasn’t the type of woman to enjoy this type of stuff. She’d simply go about her business as she please. It was like a household housing two seperate families.

The knock on the door pulled Namjoon out of his mind, and he quickly answered it before you could knock again. Snow had covered your hat, the bits of your hair that decided to peek out under it, and on your shoulders. He was quick to let you in, even taking the bags of gift wrap and tape and perhaps a gift for each of the boys.

“Thank you so much-” He smiled warmly, rubbing his temples as he sat the bags on the sofa. You shook your head at him.

“Don’t thank me you dork. I’m more than happy to help you with anything.” The words were perhaps a bit more implying than what either of you cared to admit, but Namjoon was still happy none the less. Once you were free of your extra layers you took out the rolls of gift wrap and tape. You also made sure to put your gifts under the tree too.

Namjoon watched as you didnt bother to speak in your focus now. He couldn’t help but to admire your small form in his living room, almost expertly wrapping each thing he had struggled with. You simply didn’t want him to notice the bright blush on your cheeks. It made you excited to actually be here as much as it didn’t feel the same without the boys. You had spent so much time around them as a group that you felt shy when you both were alone.

“Here’s some coffee, since the boys drank all the hot chocolate.” Namjoon’s voice made you squeak, and he couldnt help but laugh brightly. His grin made his dimples show; you wanted to kiss him right there but you knew better.

“Thank you.” You whispered. The girly girl in you was practically squealing with how close he was. A yawn passed Namjoon’s lips as your hands held the elephant plushie that he didn’t have patience for only about an hour ago. He looked tired, but he didn’t want to have you leave. Your fingers worked in a quick motion to wrap it like a giant candy. WIth the use of scissors you even made the ends all pointy.

“Ill put them under, you can stay the night if you want.” Namjoon hummed, watching you look up at him curiously. The face you held seemed to depict that you were nervous to him. “I won’t do anything, at least right now.”

“What do you mean right now?” You looked more puzzled now. Namjoon facepalmed as he realized the words slipped before he had stopped it.

“Um, well, you see.” He started off, once again making you chuckle. You couldn’t read him often but this seemed to be one of the rare moments you could. Kim Namjoon was embarrassed and he couldnt change the topic. Hoseok and Yoongi were often his way of avoiding conversations like these with you. But they were fast asleep. “Consider it your Christmas present, but I’ve liked you for quite some time now. The boys even like you too. It means the damn world to me because I love those two to death and they almost always get excited as soon as I mention you.”

You couldn’t help but to blush with his confession, but it made you grin none the less. “Are we sure that isn’t because I give them sugar every time they come?”

Both of you exchanged a bright laugh at the words. The boys were only 4 and 5, of course sugar could buy their hearts in an instant. Namjoon couldn't help but to smile at you in such a pure adoration.

“No, because they dont touch much of the pastries we have unless we make them ourselves, or we got them from you.” The father replied. “And also, I’ve known you’ve liked me for awhile.”

This was your turn to groan. “Since when!” You whined, rubbing your temple with your fingers.

“The squeal when you gave me your number. I had just gotten up to leave with the boys when I heard it.”

You pouted softly, knowing that was probably the most obvious of times that you definetely had something for him. This you couldn’t try to deny either. “Okay fine, perhaps I’ve liked you for awhile now too.”

Namjoon smiled brightly, pulling you into a hug. There was something different about this though. It felt much more warm and loving than when he would be forced to hug you because of his kids. Only when you yawned did he realize you really needed to go to sleep, so he picked you up without a warning. The simple action made your heart swell as you realized this was probably one of the best things to happen just in time for the holidays.

#try 2 to post this #namjoon #namjoon imagine #bts x reader #bts #bts fanfic #bts rm #we love domestic relationships #whole shit load of fluff

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sleepyverstappens · 4 years

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Let me share this whole new world with you

Title: Let me share this whole new world with you

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen

Rating: Gen/PG

Word Count chapter 1: 1399

Tags: Oliver Verstappen-Ricciardo, Original Child Character, 5+1

Summary: Twenty years he’d been in this circus, twenty years of his life driving cars at breakneck speeds, hopping from one plane to another, checking off countries all over the world but seeing almost nothing of them. He’d loved it with all his heart, racing was in his blood and he couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to not spend more than half the year in a race car or simulator, but he was also looking forward to it. To retiring and getting to spend all of his time with his two brilliant children and his husband.

Or Max and Dan sharing their life in the paddock with their son Oliver through the years. Follows them from 2021 to 2034.

A/N: Okay so I've been working on this one for quite a bit now. There's 6 chapters in total and rather than getting the +1 part at the end, you get it as the first part. Sorry if that's confusing, but it was either that or it was in reverse order from Oliver at his oldest to youngest. I thought this way worked slightly better.

It's not really relevant for this part yet, but Max talks Dutch with Oliver when he’s younger/alone with him. Apart from a few Dutch sentences/words, that should be clear enough through context, but will also be translated in the end notes, most of it is written in English but in italics to indicate that it’s spoken in Dutch. In this one the same rules apply for when Max is talking to his mother.

Read on AO3

+1) Spielberg, Austria 2021

“I don’t wanna leave him,” Max whispered, his eyes not straying away from the small bundle laying in the crib. Oliver was only four days old and all Max wanted to do was stare at him, but of course their little son would enter the world in the middle of a double header on the Formula One calendar. They’d only just landed back in Nice after the race in France when they’d received the call from Madeline’s sister to tell them their surrogate had gone into labour.

After a mad dash from the Nice airport to the Princess Grace hospital they’d arrived on the maternity ward in just over an hour. The wait after that hadn’t been all that long compared to some of the horror stories they’d read online, and after five hours of waiting they’d finally heard his cries at ten past three in the morning. They had reluctantly left the hospital when the first rays of sun had started to filter through from underneath the curtains to try and get a few precious hours of sleep while they still could, but they’d been back at the hospital as soon as they woke up again. Luckily with everything going well during the birth both Madeline and Oliver had been allowed to leave Monday evening.

They’d spend the last three days in their own little bubble of broken sleep, dirty nappies, and most importantly cuddles with their newborn son, but now they had to leave him. They’d managed to get out of their press duties today, a few precious extra hours with Oliver, but now they really had to go and catch their flight to Austria.

“I know, me neither. I mean look at him,” Dan whispered back, his arms wrapped around Max’s waist, chin hooked over his shoulder as he couldn’t draw his eyes away from Oli either. The boy’s face scrunched up a little and both of them held their breath, not wanting their son to wake up and cry, but all he did was wriggle his arms a little in the blanket swaddled around him, his face relaxing again into a pout that was all Max. “But he’s in the capable hands of gramma Sophie and auntie Vic.”

“I know, I know, still sucks. I mean racing is normally what I love the most in life, but with him here now things have definitely changed.”

“I wasn’t on top of your list before?”

“Course not, racing is where I go when I can’t stand you. My one true love,” Max chuckled.

---

They had eventually managed to drag themselves away from the nursery and onto the plane that dropped them off in Spielberg not even 2 hours later. They somehow managed to sneak up to their hotel room unnoticed by anyone from their teams. The teams had finally stopped booking them seperate rooms this season, a baby on the way and a marriage certificate finally really convincing them that they were for real.

They don’t get off as easily the next morning, Vicky and Aurélie knocking on their door way too early. They pretend it’s to get them to breakfast in time, but they both know that while it sometimes must feel like they’re their babysitters they still know very well how to get down to breakfast on their own. They manage to keep themselves from asking for a little while, but as soon as they sit down at their table they crack, asking them for pictures of Oliver.

Max sighed, but can’t stop a smile from appearing on his face as he presses his thumb onto his phone, unlocking it and bringing up the last photo he’d taken of Oliver yesterday. The girls aww loudly as soon as they get their hands on the phone, drawing the attention from the people around them trying to have a quiet breakfast. The girls busy with gushing over all the pictures of Oliver they’d managed to take in just four days, they can finally dig into their breakfast.

The boys at the garage are a little better at hiding their curiosity, but as soon as Lee catches sight of him and asks for pictures they’re all on him. They coo at the picture of him asleep on the sofa with Oli on his chest and then laugh their heads of at the picture of Daniel trying to change a very poopy diaper.

It’s when GP pulls him aside a few minutes before the first practice session and softly tells him that fatherhood suits him that he almost loses it, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes as he takes in the words of his race engineer. The man who’s been like a father to him ever since he joined this circus, even more so when his so-called-dad rejected him after he came out. His voice cracks when he thanks him, the squeeze of Gianpiero’s hand on his shoulder making him flee away to the safety of the cockpit of his car, helmet hiding where a few tears have managed to spill from his eyes.

---

He breathes in a sigh of relief as he hears the click of the door lock, the smell of home filling his nostrils as he pushes the door open. The apartment is quiet as he rolls his carry on suitcase inside, Dan shuffling in behind him, both of them bone tired from the race weekend. A few more steps forward and he’s granted by the most adorable sight, his mum is sat in the corner of their sofa, Oliver lying on her chest, both of them asleep as the TV casts coloured streaks over them.

“Mama,” he whispered softly, his hand brushing over the hand that’s securely resting on Oliver’s back.

“Oh hé mijn lief,” she mumbled softly as she blinked her eyes back open, a smile curling on her lips as they find her son’s. Her other hand comes up to caress his cheek before she looks down at the infant resting on her chest, three generations of the same blood on this sofa, grandmother, father and son. “I remember the day you were in my arms like this like it was yesterday. Gosh Max that little pout is all you isn’t it.”

He’s heard those same words all weekend, but hearing his mum say them makes warmth radiate inside of him, a soft little smile all the answer he can give her. His mother holding Oliver is adorable, but his hands are starting to itch, wanting to feel his little boy in his arms again. And it must be written all over his face, because before he even asks his mum is already sitting up, her hand cradling Oliver’s little head as she gently lift him into Max’s arms.

“There you go, papa,” she smiled, brushing her fingers over Oliver’s cheek and then his own. And it’s only been just over 3 days, but he’s missed him so much. The weight in his arms and the sweet baby smell that fills his nose as he presses his lips against his forehead. Oli starts to squirm a little then, starting to wake up from being moved around but Max just shushes him softly as he lifts him up against his chest and rubs his hand down his back. With the other hand nestled over his tiny head, fingertips brushing against the soft dusting of white blond hair there, he buries his face in the crook of his son’s shoulder. Eyes closed he rocks side to side gently and just takes everything in.

He didn’t know he could love someone so much. He had been so worried all of those nine long months they had waited for him, but as soon as he’d held Oliver in his arms all those worries had melted away. His son had melted his heart the moment he’d blinked open his eyes at him and he didn’t think it would ever really solidify again so long as he was alive.

He felt the sofa shift next to him and slowly blinked his eyes open again to find his husband staring at them, a soft smile curling on his lips

“God Max, you two... you two are my whole world, you know that right?”

He nodded, giving Daniel a watery smile as he pressed a kiss against his cheek. “I know baby, you’re mine too.”

#my fic #maxiel #oliver verstappen-ricciardo #5+1 fic

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years

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CSUAPR prt 61 update

Once Lance was taken away for surgery things started happening in rapid precession. Hunter needed a nappy change. Hunk needed a guide through the hospital to book Shay’s appointment. Laith wanted feeding. Marco face planted from exhaustion getting out the elevator. Keith’s comms started ringing. Keith missed the call and ended up playing phone tag with his mother. Lucteal nearly punched a guy in the face for not apologising when he walked into Keith, who was still trying to juggle his hungry son and his comms. Mami called for an update on Lance, then Hunk nearly threw up from how anxious he’d made himself over booking said appointment as he wrung his hands the whole time they were walking. Feeling frazzled, Keith wasn’t entirely unsure it wasn’t all karma from nearly hiding his meeting with Krystaal from his husband. He could wait until after Lance’s surgery to meet with Krystaal, and give Lance that chance to be awake for it, or he could deal with it now and have news for him when he woke. When Daehra stepped up, he nearly kissed her. How normal parents dealt with these issues, he had no idea. Mami was so incredibly patient and able to juggle two grumpy babies and a comms. He... was not. Taking Hunter for his nappy change, sleepy Marco wasn’t allowed to hold either baby, but he did go with Daehra, who also promised to organise a bottle for Laith then meet them at the obstetricians offices. Thankfully Hunk had had the foresight to bring the nappy bag with him, or things would have gone from bad to worse. Babies needed so many extra things, which they’d had access too in Cuba thanks to Miriam’s smart thinking, now he was realising that a nappy bag was something that would always need to travel around with them, and that he’d have to keep it stocked with the right things for their boys. Lance would have known this. He should have known this. Maybe those few stolen vargas of sleep hadn’t been enough for him to be firing on all cylinders? Calling him as he sat by Hunk’s side in the waiting room, Keith was forced to pass Laith over to Lucteal so he could take his mother’s call outside the obstetricians offices. Keith had wanted to be there for Hunk the whole time, but with time running out he couldn’t not to take the call, and it wasn’t as if Hunk wasn’t currently stuck filling in paperwork regarding the nature of the appointment. Keeping his mother hanging until he’d slipped into the hallway, Keith sighed deeply as he raised his comms “Hey, mum” Dressed in his Blade uniform, her mother looked calm and collected. Not even the tiny bit of baby vomit on her shoulder could dent her presence “You look like shit” Sighing again, Keith already knew he did “Thanks. You’ve got vomit on your shoulder” His mother didn’t miss a beat “Better there than in my hair. What time are you arriving?” There it was. Straight into business. She hadn’t even asked about Lance or the boys “I’m not” His mother raised an eyebrow “You’re not?” “I can’t... Not to Daibazaal. I talked to Lance about it and he’s... I can’t leave here while he’s in surgery. I still want to talk to Krystaal, but his wishes come first...” It was Krolia’s turn to sigh “So what you’re telling me is, you want me to escort him all the way out there” “Pretty much” “Keith...” Digging the heel of his spare hand into his eye, Keith really didn’t want to fight. He knew he was messing up the plan, but he couldn’t leave. It was bad enough the boys were in the care of the others again, and though Lance had been through probably far more surgeries than Keith knew, he really couldn’t find the energy or will to be anywhere else. “Where is he?” Rubbing at his eye, Keith then let his hand drop “Surgery. There were... complications, yesterday. Meaning they needed to approach the surgery from another angle” “Complications? You didn’t tell me there complications” “You didn’t ask!” His tiredness carried in his semi snap “Look, I’m sorry. I know I was supposed to come to Daibazaal but I can’t. Lance is right. I want the twins first trip to be to Daibazaal because we’re coming to see you, not because we’re coming to see the man that tried to kill them” Krolia’s face morphed from vague annoyance to understanding. She’d always thought the war would end and she'd come back to Earth. That they’d meet at the shack and... and everything else that other life would have been “I’ll see what I can do. He knows no harm would have come to them, right?” “Yeah, mum. It’s not that... well, maybe a little bit but it’s mostly... We want to make good memories with them. He doesn’t deserve to see them, not after trying to take them away from us. I wasn’t going to tell Lance, that’s why I agreed...” Krolia set her lips in a firm frown “You said you were going to” “You didn’t see him, mum. He was so messed up from missing the boys’ first week. He needed Cuba. I thought... that I’d be strong enough to let the others take care of them, but I can’t...” Despite the glaringly obvious fact he was baby free... Recomposing herself, his mother managed to school her features to something more neutral that didn’t quite make it into her tone “I wish you’d called me sooner. I’ll need to clear things with Erathus. They’re not keen on Galra ships, much less a sudden visit. Where are you? Where are my boys?” “I’m at the hospital. Daehra is changing Hunter’s nappy while Lucteal holds Laith so I could take this call. You know... Seeing you didn’t want to answer when I called you back” “Korra needed feeding. You should see her now. She’s so much like you were at this age” Discomfort tugged at Keith’s chest. He hadn’t forgotten he had a new baby sister, who he hadn’t enquired over... It pained him to admit that thanks to their age gap he may as well be an uncle to the baby girl “I’ll have to take your word for it. How long do you think it’ll take to get clearance?” His mother shrugged “I can’t see it being a huge deal given both you and Lance are already planet side. They hardly need to know the nature of my visit. A varga, two tops. How long will Lance be in surgery?” “A couple of vargas. They’re performing micro-surgery, then he’ll need to be monitored for seizures before being moved back up to the main ward” “I’ll call when we’ve docked. I assume the others will watch over the twins during the meeting?” They’d have to... Marco and Daehra definitely needed the sleep, but hopefully he could swing a few more vargas of Hunk’s time. Hunk was already smitten with the boys. Both of them now owners of weird stuffed wolf looking toys that matched the larger on Hunk had bought for Lance. Their friend had blushed up a storm as he explained that he’d bought it because he knew how much Lance had grown into having Kosmo as his constant companion. Kosmo wasn’t allowed at the hospital, and Keith hadn’t thought about gifting his husband something “cuddly” to share his bed with. That was his job, after all “Yeah. Yeah. Hunk popped by for a quick visit, so I’ll see if he and Lucteal can watch the boys at the club. Is Kolivan coming with you?” His mother’s eyes twinkled, Keith knowing the teasing was coming “Do you want Kolivan to come with me?” “That’s not I asked” “You don’t usually ask for him. Can’t a mother be concerned?” Huffing are his mother, he felt stupid for asking. His emotions too scattered, and body too tired to take whatever crap she was trying to pull “Excuse me for trying to include him. In future I won’t ask my future stepfather if he wants to meet his grandsons. This is what I get for trying to include him. I never should have opened my mouth. Call me when you get here” Ending the call, Keith knew he’d been a bit of a dick to his mother. He’d just wanted to do the right thing by everyone. Kolivan hadn’t met the boys, and as his mother’s partner and the father of his half-sister, he kind of felt like it might have been nice to include him. He’d barely had a moment to breathe before Marco and Daehra were approaching him from down the hall. Today could quiznak itself right off. He was far too old and far too tired for any of this shit, and now he’d picked a fight with his mother after breaking their agreed upon plans. Someone out there really needed to invent a way to go back in time so he could back to the morning and spend it curled up with Lance as they both snored their heads off. * Dragged back to the club by Hunk and his gentle ways, Keith showered, ate, napped, and generally felt much more human for it. Leaving Daehra and Marco to sleep of their babysitting duties, Keith and Hunk headed back up to the room that Keith and Lance were sharing on the second highest floor of the club. Th’al had offered to make the penthouse available so they be able to share the apartment space, but Lance had wanted seperate rooms thanks to the twins. Kosmo was all over him the tick they walked in. Clothes strewn across the space from where his fur son had felt bored, deciding that he needed to redecorate by digging out mostly Lance’s clothes. Strangely enough it hadn’t felt weird to sit Kosmo down and explain to him that Lance needed surgery. His great big idiot of a wolf was far smarter than he’d ever let on, letting them leave with minimal fussing, even if he did nudge at Lance’s hands for all the extra pats he could get before Keith shepherded his husband out the door. Laying Laith down on the sofa, he was sent to the bathroom to humanise by Hunk, returning to find his friend had ordered room service before starting to straighten up. Collapsing backwards onto the king sized bed was a grave error on his behalf. The thick fluffy duvet calling his name as the urge to sleep until the meeting grew. Forcing himself to sit back up seemed like some kind of inhumane torture. Sitting up meant talking. Talking meant using the words. Using the words meant using the English. His brain didn’t have the power to use the English. His valiant efforts to stay awake were thwarted by Hunk promising to wake him when the food arrived. Needless to say, he didn’t. Letting him sleep for the next varga and a half, Keith woke to Hunk shaking his shoulder to tell him that Krolia should be arriving soon. Having pulled a “rambling Lance”, Keith had talked the ear off his poor friend all the way from the hospital to the club, unaware of how much he had talked or the way he’d jumped from topic to topic as he had. Knowing he was an idiot their friends group had let him mumble and complain, then go off on a completely unrelated tangent of how amazing his boys were. The previous night’s conversation in the cafeteria had drifted out of his mind, Keith forgetting he’d confided in Hunk, leaving him as confused as he was nervous about facing Krystaal. So many things had happened, so many things were happening, now wasn’t the time to be overwhelmed, even if his secondary instincts were prowling demanding some kind of revenge he couldn’t process that when his stomach felt somewhere close to the bottom of his boot. Had Hunk not been there to guide him around, as if he was on autopilot, Keith wouldn’t have made it to the space port intact. Nor would the twins have made the trip with him in the arms of Lucteal and Hunk. No. He’d said he wouldn’t put them in danger, so he couldn’t explain why he’d ended up bringing them with him. Kosmo was all the backup he needed, yet with his track record of attacking anything he deemed a threat towards Lance, he’d been forced to leave his ever faithful furry back up locked up in the hotel. There was nothing especially special about the Galra ship Krolia had piloted for the trip over to Erathus. It was just as grey and purple as every other ship in their fleet. Waiting at the dock, Kolivan had quirked an eyebrow at their “rag tag” group. One half-Galra who looked as if his head was off in the cloud. One man who dwarfed the sleeping child in his hold almost laughably. Then rounding out the group was the man carrying the other baby wearing a facial expression akin to what one might expect having stepped in faecal matter. The expression lost once his gaze cast down to Korra. She was so much larger than Keith remembered. In her clutch was Kolivan’s braid, drooled all over by the little girl, yet Kolivan was uncaring as he smiled with the corners of his lips at his daughter. Parenthood really suited his former mentor, Kolivan’s almost mechanical mannerism had softened significantly “Greetings, Keith, Hunk, and Lucteal” “Hey, Kolivan. Hello, Korra” Hunk nudged him with his elbow, Keith remembering if you wanted to greet someone you needed to use the words “Hey, Kolivan. Hello, Korra, you probably have no idea who I am...” Lame. That was “cringeworthy lame” as Lance would say, his husband would most probably be cringing in second hand embarrassment “She’s a smart little girl. You look... exhausted” Keith snorted. Exhausted was the polite way of agreeing with Krolia that he looked like shit “Long night. Day. Whatever time of hour it is... I didn’t think I’d be seeing you here” “You know Krolia. When she makes up her mind, there’s simply no telling her. She did mention that it would be an opportunity to meet your sons...” She’d mentioned it only because Keith had been forced to make her mention it. No. He wasn’t going to be bitter. His mother had been forced to change all her plans for him, for all he knew she could have planned something... “Uh. Yeah. Um... This is Laith and Hunter... Laith means “lion” back on Earth. Lance calls him his little lion cub. Hunter... is kind of obvious” Now he felt stupid not holding his baby boys. He should be proudly introducing them to their future grandfather, not standing in front of them and gesturing vaguely because he was a wreck. Shuffling up, Hunk placed his free hand on Keith’s shoulder, kind of angling the twin he was holding towards Kolivan “This handsome little man is Laith. I think he looks more like Lance except for his nose, but Hunter, Hunter’s the spitting image of Keith” Keith itched to take his son from Hunk, yet didn’t want to wake him before he had time to cuddle his crying away. Smiling fondly, his son far damn precious for his heart not to skip a beat “And their eyes... Lance says they have my eyes” “That’s true. I’m kind of shocked that he didn’t inherit Lance’s markings, or fangs or something” “Don’t insult him. He’s perfect the way he is. They’re both perfect” As Kolivan chuckled, Hunk gaped slightly. For his friend it was a rarely seen side of the Blade Commander. For Keith it was just another piece of evidence that being a father really suited Kolivan. Steamrolling through the moment, Lucteal didn’t appreciate the shared affection between both new fathers “Can we please move on? There is time to continue this conversation after you have met with Krystaal. Need I remind you we have limited time before Lance wakes. I would prefer that we didn’t continue to make spectacles of ourselves to the watching public. Lance would not appreciate the added attention. Especially when he wishes to keep both your children out of the media” Keith hadn’t noticed the few busybodies stopping to stare. None of them seemed to be on their comms, nor did the seem to have taken video or photos of the moment. They were all doing that creepy thing where they were staring thanks to the groups status. Drawing his brow, Kolivan gave a curt nod “Indeed. We should head on board. We have a secure room for you to meet with Krystaal and Krolia will be monitoring your meeting to prevent any incident arriving” “Is that likely?” Kolivan shook his head. Korra letting out a babbly kind of laugh as her fathers plait moved “No. He spent many movements sullen, refusing both food and water initially. When offered the choice of exile he was far too eager to accept. It was decided by Krolia that he needed to retrain and learn the gravity of his actions... Though it was a struggle not to let her shoot him as Lance had wished, and she was far too tempted to eject him out the closest available airlock. Any chance of advancement was ruined by his own actions. Penance is not generally the Galra way, but we are trying. Let us be going” The walk was short given the size of the ship. Korra spent her time watching him over Kolivan’s shoulder. Her eyes fixed on him as she continued to drool over Kolivan’s hair. Beside him Hunk kept pulling faces to entertain the little girl, mumbling sadly when her gaze didn’t move from him. Having not spent all that much time with her, Keith knew their was no way she could know he was her older brother. He loved the little girl fiercely, but was worried they’d never have that proper sibling bond. All his friends were far older than her. And all of them bore a heavy legacy. As it was, if he was the “Prince of Daibazaal”, then she was very much the “Princess”. The first born daughter of the joint rulers of transitioning empire. Keith sincerely hoped that she’d be able to be live a happy life, and that he’d be able to provide her with a shoulder to cry on, or an escape if she ever chose a different path than the ones that would appear before her feet. Lance would have loved to have been there. He would have gone crazy for how cute and inquisitive she was. To Lucteal they all must have seemed idiots. He had dozens of half-brothers and sisters. This wasn’t all new and exciting to him, but at the same time, he also wasn’t a father. Not that that stopped Hunk. He’d make a fantastic father. Realising where his thoughts were taking him, Keith gave himself a small shake. He couldn’t be cool before Krystaal if he was too busy being proud of his friends and family.

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howtowhumpyourhiccup · 5 years

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Stolen Peace

Summary: HICCUP WHUMP! Based on the episode 'Midnight Scrum'. When bounty hunters get a hold of Hiccup, he makes a simple split-second decision that will haunt him for a long time to come. He just didn't realize the full gravity of his actions until he has a talk with Astrid and Heather one night. WARNING! IMPLIED ATTEMPTED SUICIDE!

Rating: Teen and Up/(Mature?)

Words: 2 492

Author’s Notes: I wrote this one in the span of one single day after motivation hit me through a Tumblr post discussing the many dark undertones of RttE.

And thus this was created.

Enjoy!

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

The original post

Hiccup's decision had been easily made. Too easily.

After failing to convince Savage of his importance in stopping Viggo Grimborn and his Dragon Hunters and when attempting to trick him that Berk would pay double the amount the bounty promised ended badly, there was only one thought that ran rampant through his mind.

Get off the ship.

A straightforward goal, it was the execution that was a little... off.

With his hands tied tightly behind his back and his arms bound to his middle as an extra precaution, Hiccup knocked Savage's feet right from under him the second he turned his back on him.

In this one moment, he could've done so many things.

He could've kicked Savage's axe away from him, there were plenty of weapons he could go for and use to free himself with, even using his prosthetic to completely knock the former Outcast out was a better idea than what he actually ended up doing.

In a single bout of panic, Hiccup simply decided to... abandon ship.

Climbing over the ship's side with practised agility, he tried throwing himself overboard and he would've succeeded too if Savage hadn't recovered and pulled him back, instead flinging him onto the wooden deck and adding to the massive headache already pounding in his skull.

"Swimming home with your hands tied?" To Savage it was an opportunity to mock his prisoner. He grabbed hold of the metal leg with his free hand and braced himself with a foot on the teen's stomach before pulling it off with one harsh tug.

It wasn't pleasant. It was always humiliating if a foe seperated him from his prosthetic, a quick way to keep him from escaping.

That should've been the end of it, but it was right then that Savage was knocked out cold by Throk, who proved himself an ally send by Queen Mala after she had received word of the bounty placed on the Dragon Rider's head.

Hiccup didn't have time to think, to really contemplate his actions and realize what he had been about to do so willingly, so... easily.

Those days were lost to him. Later on Hiccup would find he had a hard time forgetting, but also remembering, what happened.

There were many bounty hunters hunting him for his prize. A lot of people who had lain their hands on him and brought pain again and again. There were beatings, he had been knocked out cold several times, a mysterious man he had seen only once before had even wrapped a chain around his neck and dragged him around like a pet, like a slave, property.

There were no breaks. Just stress and pain and fear and exhaustion.

In the end the Dragon Riders and his father had caught up to him just in time and saved him from Ryker Grimborn, who had been waiting on Sleipnir Island to bring him to his brother, Viggo. But being rescued and brought back home where he was safe and sound didn't take anything away from what he went through. Hiccup had heard of traumas before. He would never admit to having any himself, he wanted to concentrate on what truly mattered and that were his friends and their mission, but it was clear that this event would leave a lasting impact on him. Both the bounty and meeting Viggo Grimborn.

How big of an impact, he had no idea until one conversation late in the evening.

It had been two weeks since then.

Fortunately, Berk did not have the exact details of his kidnapping, but they knew something had happened and their heir needed time to recover.

The bruises littering his body, particularly the very nasty one around his neck, were too obvious and Hiccup had been mostly confined to his house both because he was too sore to move around much and because his father ordered him to stay put.

But it wasn't only that. Ryker punching him square in the chest had left him with a bruised sternum and that made it hard to breathe sometimes.

Nobody was really surprised. That punch in his gut was strong enough to knock him unconscious.

His injuries were slow to fade away and the rest was certainly welcome, but Hiccup was already itching to go back to the Edge. Staying inactive for too long drove him mad and made him feel useless.

That was why Astrid had come that night, accompanied by Heather. They knew of his plans to move back to Dragon's Edge and had come to try and convince him that, perhaps, it wasn't such a bad idea to stay a little while longer.

They knew he needed to recuperate. In their opinion, despite the two weeks off, their friend still looked like he had been chained up and dragged behind a stampeding Gronckle.

Their attempts weren't working.

"Hiccup, you can't be serious! Have you actually looked at yourself the past few days? You need your rest!" Astrid argued, raising her voice. To say that she thought Hiccup's plan to go back already was madness would be an understatement.

"And I can get that rest back on the Edge aswell. Where I can also be sure that we're staying on top of Viggo and his men." Hiccup wasn't giving in. Arguing with Astrid Hofferson was a difficult feat to accomplish, but this was one discussion he couldn't let her win. He knew where they were needed, where he was needed, and that wasn't here on Berk.

"You can barely even talk!" Her hand gestured wildly at him as she sat at the table and it was a good point she brought up.

"My voice is doing f-" Further backed up by the cough that interrupted him.

"My point exactly!" Heather stared at the two as they argued, trying to feel like she wasn't a third wheel in this talk. All she wanted to say, Astrid had already told him.

Hiccup's coughing didn't cease for a little while and the two young women decided to give him some space to gather himself. It didn't sit well with them how he subconsciously rubbed on his throat, they knew of the chain the masked hunter had wrapped around it.

Another reason to keep him home. Hiccup's wounds weren't just purely physical.

"Hiccup, please-" Astrid tried again.

"No, Astrid, sitting here and doing nothing is exactly what Viggo wants me to do."

"You can't just keep driving yourself into the ground either! You have limits! Limits that you reached two weeks ago and that you need to heal from!" This wasn't getting them anywhere. No matter how long they could keep arguing about this, it didn't look like either Haddock or Hofferson wanted to cave in. Both had noble goals, but only one was in the right.

Heather watched them go back and forth. She had tagged along to provide some back-up, but now she wondered if it hadn't been a little smarter to wait for Chief Stoick to come home first. He could've helped keep his son home.

This? This was futile.

Both Hiccup and Astrid ended up frustrated and angry with each other, but they were gathering their thoughts and that provided them with a few seconds of tense silence.

Astrid tapped her fingers on the wooden table, her face contorted in a look of fury. Hiccup paced, unable to stand still. If anything, he looked even more tired than before.

"I overheard Savage saying something."

That's when Heather decided to speak up.

It would probably shock Astrid aswell, but she was prepared for that. It was time to give Hiccup a little bit of a perspective, just like he had given one to her sometime ago.

"What do you mean, Heather?" Hiccup's voice broke as he spoke, he really needed to let it and himself heal properly.

"When we found Savage's ship, he blamed you for getting captured in the first place." She started and Hiccup found himself quietly agreeing. If he hadn't been so stubborn and just made his dad aware of the bounty, none of that would've happened and he and the other Dragon Riders would've been on Berk.

"It made your dad really angry-"

"It made all of us angry. Blaming the victim..." Astrid interrupted briefly.

Heather glanced over to her, found her sitting back in her chair with her arms crossed and her face turned away from both her and Hiccup.

It hurt her that he refused to take care of himself like this. And Heather knew she was about to make it a whole lot worse.

"Anyway, your dad had almost killed him for it. Toothless managed to stop him in time, but Stoick was ready to kill Savage for it, for putting the blame on you. But that wasn't all he said." What she was saying drew Astrid's attention too as she gazed back at her best friend from the corners of her eyes.

"What else did he say?" Hiccup had enough of this conversation, so his constant restless pacing told them, but he wasn't about to silence her either. That wouldn't be fair to her, he knew they meant well.

"Savage said, and I'm only quoting him now, but he said "I should've let him drown". Those were his exact words." Heather finally arrived to the point she wanted to make and Astrid straightened in her seat.

"When did he say that?!" She spoke, her fingers itching for her axe and a certain Outcast-turned-bounty hunter to use it on.

"When we were heading for Sleipnir Island. I was the last one there, I don't think he expected me to hear him." Heather answered before she turned her attention back to her other troubled friend.

Who stood there, staring at her, as if something he had completely forgotten was now returning to him.

"Did you throw yourself overboard, Hiccup?" It wasn't a simple question, but Heather's soft and inquiring tone almost made it seem like one. She wanted him to know he could trust them with his answer.

"Hiccup?" Astrid made a small and scared noise. Throk had told them Hiccup had been bound tightly when he found him and they had seen the ropes. But for as impulsive as he could be, he must've known there were a million other things he could've done that didn't involve meeting a cold and slow death by drowning in the ocean, where his body could never be found.

"I'm..." Hiccup was at a loss for words and he looked off to the side, afraid to look them in the eye.

But as they patiently awaited an answer, he did see what Heather wanted him to see.

Hiccup had almost taken his own life. Right then and there, on Savage's ship. And voluntarily so.

Ryker had claimed that Viggo wanted to kill him by his own hand, that was why the bounty had been placed on his head, but Viggo said a lot of thing and many of them were lies constructed to benefit nobody but himself.

The fate that awaited him if those bounty hunters did succeed in delivering him to the Grimborn brothers, while the rest of the world believed him dead... Hiccup realized he would much rather risk death than face it.

And he almost did.

Without a second thought.

"Hiccup..." Astrid moved to stand up, no longer angry, but rattled instead.

"I... wasn't... trying to, I..." He paused.

"I think you're right. We should stay on Berk a little while longer." That perspective Heather never mentioned was made clear to him and Hiccup caved in. He never feared the Red Death, Alvin and the Outcasts or Ryker enough to let it stop him from fighting them. He may have felt something akin to fright for Dagur, but that still couldn't compare to how ultimately terrified he was of Viggo.

And that fear had almost cost him his life, his father his son, his friends their leader, his dragon his Rider.

Perhaps, he did need to heal.

"Hiccup...?" Astrid was at his side then, while Heather stayed seated at the table. Her hand gingerly grabbed his.

There was a look in his eyes that she did not like. It implied that something had broken inside of him just then.

There were tears he was trying to blink away.

"I'm... I think I'm gonna go to bed. And rest." Astrid drew back when she heard him speak up again, she knew that all he wanted was to be left alone now. Left alone with his thoughts.

"Don't tell the others?" She hated that tiny voice that left him. She couldn't say no to that.

"We won't." Astrid made the promise in Heather's stead too, who nodded.

Without another word spoken, nothing more needed to be said, Hiccup simply retreated to his bedroom. He didn't tell them goodnight and neither of the girls did either.

They remained downstairs and watched him go, let him close the hatch that led to his room. A sure sign that he wanted to be alone.

Toothless was already up there, it was fine.

"Astrid?" Heather stood up and approached her best friend, laying a hand on her pauldron. She could only imagine how hard this must be.

"He didn't even deny it. So... what you said is true?" She turned to face her, heartbreak evident in her watery eyes.

Heather didn't need to answer.

"Oh Thor..." She felt like she needed to sit down.

"We should go before Stoick comes home. He doesn't usually stay away for this long, does he?" Heather managed to draw her away from the Haddock Household. Right now Astrid needed some peace of her own and it was time to return home, where Heather also stayed for the time being.

She had already racked her brain over this issue the past two weeks, now it was Astrid's turn to give this a place and somehow not tell the other Riders or Stoick. This had to stay between the three of them.

Well, the four of them.

Toothless probably heard the entire thing.

While they left, meeting a tired Stoick on their way out, Hiccup sat on the edge of his bed.

His Night Fury's head on his lap, he embraced him and hid his face away. He hated being this weak and helpless when there were so many people counting on him to be strong, but he clung onto him as if he was his one remaining tether to this world. Toothless let him, he knew his Rider felt lost.

They had always been so in tune with one another.

"I'm not gonna leave you, Bud. I would never leave you." Hiccup promised him in whispers, but the dragon didn't respond.

Steadily learning human customs, he had one foreleg wrapped around his Rider's back, imitating a hug to let him know he was there.

He had heard everything.

And he would never leave Hiccup's side ever again.

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a-beast-of-prey · 5 years

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▌𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: Forever unknown and doomed to be known only as K’ (pronounced Kay Dash, not Kay Apostraphe. K Prime also works, but if you call him that to his face, he’ll deck you).

▌𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍: Single. Though I do have some writing partners whose muses he’s shacked up with, since I multiship. However, they all belong to their own seperate continuities/verses and don’t overlap unless all parties agree to it.

▌𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒/ 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒: Pyrokinesis; wields Kusanagi fire from his right hand only. Can sometimes make the fire manifest as small explosions, adding extra oomph to punches. Also able to kick it out in projectiles. Translocation; has a branch ability of the technique where he appears to completely freeze time for roughly three seconds. Minorly boosted strength and healing capabilities thanks to genetic manipulation and modifications. Rather uncanny aim with thrown projectiles (especially if they’re odd, like eyewear).

▌𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑: Blue. Exact shade seems to change, but a sky or slate blue might be the most consistent. (I know I use “icy” as a descriptor a lot, but it’s more for the emotional coldness they give off than the actual colour. Plus the juxtaposition with his flame powers lmao)

▌𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑: Snowy white. Platinum or silver also kinda works.

▌𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒: Older sister, Seirah, who is dead but got cloned. The clone also responds to Seirah, but is more commonly known as Whip. May or may not have a mother and father somewhere in the world. Or they could be dead. Who knows? Certainly not this poor lad. :^)

▌𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐒: None; can’t afford to look after one on the team’s current budget, and it also isn’t safe for an animal to hang around them when they’re still being hunted for the powers in their bodies. Used to have a dog as a child, pre-kidnapping.

▌𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄: Sweets, King of Fighters tournaments, and being controlled by people.

▌𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒/𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒: Sleeping, riding his motorcycle, reading, yoga.

▌𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄: Lots of people. Mostly NESTS personnel and assassination targets for NESTS before defecting from them.

▌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌: Crows, beasts of prey (mostly wolves, tigers, and lions), lazy asshole cats.

▌𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒: Rude; tendency to take his temper out on others... generally with fists and fire; smoking and drinking; isolates himself, especially when he’s hurting emotionally; bottles up vulnerability until it eventually explodes; leaves his sunglasses collection everywhere so it all gets sat on/thrown in the wash/generally ruined; deliberately throws those same sunglasses at people’s faces and doesn’t care about how many pairs break or how much it costs because it looks cool; binge eating or starving himself when depression is at its worst.

▌𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐒: None. Admires certain qualities in people around him, but doesn’t put them on quite that high of a pedestal because he sees them more like equals.

▌𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: Bisexual.

▌𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄/𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒: His immediate thoughts are no thank you and fuckitty bye. He has enough commitment issues (and issues in general) that make it difficult to enter a meaningful relationship in the first place, let alone marrying someone. Eighteen is also too young to be thinking of that shit anyhow. Big no to kids too for the same reason, and also because he’s terrified of the idea that any nut spawn that come from him are going to grow up as sad and messed up as he is. Also acutely aware of the fact that he can barely take care of himself some days, so he’d struggle with a little snot goblin that depends on him. Might consider adoption, maybe... Though this would have to be a very tight-knit relationship that’s been going on for years to even entertain the thought, mind you.

▌𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒: Hospitals and lab settings; having the few people he sees as friends abandon him completely; losing his flames (even if he sees them as a burden, he figures he’s useless without them, and will be abandoned accordingly); the hypothetical loss of all sense of self, and also completely forgetting his friends, should he ever start regaining his lost memories.

▌𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒: All black leather is his main go-to. Otherwise he just wears whatever the fuck is comfortable, regardless of ugliness of colour and/or patterning. Tacky Hawaiian print shirts are a favourite for some reason - probably Maxima’s abysmal dad fashion sense™ rubbing off on him. Generally prefers jeans and long pants. Tightness and looseness of all clothing varies. If applicable, jackets and button up shirts must be open so he can breast boobily. Often ditches shirts under jackets and hoodies like a tosser because it looks cool, irregardless of, say, nipple chafe from leather. Almost never seen without his cross necklace because it’s very important to him. Always has a minimum of one to three pairs of sunglasses on his person at all times, even if you can’t see them being worn on his face.

▌𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄: Platonic sense? He’s got Maxima, Kula, and Whip/Seirah. Romantically is, again, verse and partner dependant because I multiship.

▌𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒: Never initiates them and actively pushes people away with prickliness and rudeness instead. But if you can somehow tolerate his bullshit with patience and kindness without abusing it, or his trust, over enough time, there will be a slight shift in demeanour, mostly without him realising it. He’s still rude as hell, but there’s no bite to his insults anymore. True friends earn unwavering loyalty - the kind where he will fight and lay his life down for you, if necessary - and quiet and subtle shows of kindness. More open displays of kindness are not only mega rare, but awkward. But it’s kind of endearing and cute... just don’t tell him that or he’ll sulk.

▌𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊: Coffee. Beer too.

▌𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐓: The beach. In the apartment he shares with Maxima and Kula; the couch is his favourite spot, as is the kitchen. Roaring down any stretch of road on his bike.

▌𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐌 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐍: Ocean is preferable, but he’ll take whatever he can get on a hot day.

▌𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄: Anyone who can put up with his bitchass to begin with, tbh. Looking at some of my ships though... rays of sunshine, or someone who meets his snark with equal snark, seem to stand out. Superficially, if they’re hot in some fashion he’s going to have a passing interest. Mmmmmight have a thing for larger men lowkey? A fan of big chests on anyone; they’re optimal pillows. Someone who can kick his ass just as much as he kicks theirs.

▌𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐒: Indoors. He’s not afraid of going into the woods at all, but if given a choice, he’s melting into a couch and never stepping foot outside unless necessary. He’s lazy and is loath to part with creature comforts.

TAGGED BY: nobody; I stole it from several people when it was making rounds a few weeks ago

TAGGING: *reaches thru my screen to boop ur nose*

#♱ [MEMES] chance encounters #{{oops this got very long because of elaborations}}

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hopeduckling13 · 5 years

Text

A Wish Come True: Chapter 16

Summary: How quickly can your mood change from pure happiness to pure horror? In a millisecond.The day Killian and Emma found out they were true love, they were ecstatic. That is until, they were forced to say goodbye to each other. For forever. Or so they thought.Can they still manage to find their true love for each other after five years of seperation or is it too late?

Fandom: Once Upon A Time

Ship: Captain Swan

Rating: M

Setting: 5 years after 5x20 Firebird

Also on AO3, FF.net and Wattpad

Catch up on Tumblr: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15]

Reblog to be tagged in future chapters: @mcakers

~~~ EMMA’S POV ~~~

My head is resting on Killian’s bare chest. I run my hand softly through his chest hair, which I never thought I’d find attractive, but Killian can really pull that off. His hand plays with my hair.

We’re both at total peace, coming down from our high. I wish it would never end.

I lean up on my elbow and kiss Killian softly. “You think we could get away with just staying here like this for all eternity? Like freeze this moment and live in it forever?”

He smiles brightly and puts his hand on my cheek, caressing it softly. “Probably not, Swan. Not in this town.”

I sigh, even though I was already aware of the answer.

“It’s actually been more peaceful, though,” I say. “Maybe we’ll be able to have a relatively normal life from now on.”

“I wouldn’t say no to that, love.” He puts his hand on mine, which is still resting on his chest. He softly caresses it with his thumb.

“I love you,” I say. “So much. And I’m never letting you go again.”

In the past, I never would’ve thought, that I’d ever be able to just tell someone that I love them without hesitation. Even five years ago, when I was definitely feeling it, I only ever told Killian about my feelings, when we were facing certain death. Or whenever we were on the cusp of getting separated for an unknown amount of time. I was scared, then. But I’m not now.

Seeing him die and missing him for five long years sort of put things into perspective.

Now, I know that saying those three little words won’t change a thing – not for the worse anyway. However, it does make both me and Killian happy. Very.

Love is indeed a part of all happiness and now, I’m open to that. My love for Killian is more intense than ever and I’m definitely not scared of it. Not in the least.

“I love you, too.” He intertwines our fingers and leans in to kiss me, but then my stomach growls loudly. I totally forgot that I haven’t eaten anything today.

I sigh and sit up. Killian does, too.

“I’ll go make us some breakfast at…” I glance at the clock on the wall. “Noon.”

Now that would be Henry’s preferred time for breakfast. I chuckle.

I get up from the bed and pick up Killian’s shirt and my panties from the floor. I put both of them on.

I turn to Killian and walk back to the bed. I climb into it and straddle Killian’s lap. I give him a quick peck. He pouts at me and rolls on top of me, tickling my waist. I laugh and try to push him away. He won’t budge, so I pull his head down to mine and kiss him.

That does the trick. It distracts him enough, so I slip out of bed. I continue to walk away.

“I must say, you look great in my clothes. They actually look much better on you than they’d ever look on me, love. But what am I supposed to wear now?” He raises his eyebrow.

“I have some of your old shirts in my closet. Just pick one of those.” I say. I’ll be wearing the one that smells just like him.

“Sure, love. I’ll take a quick shower and then join you downstairs. I really missed the running water in the Underworld.” He gets up and walks over to me. He pecks my lips and smiles at me.

I walk away then, making sure to put some extra sway to my hips to tease him. His gaze is definitely following my every move. I can feel it.

I have a smirk on my face the whole way towards the door. That will probably be a nice, cold shower.

If I wouldn’t be in need of some real food, I’d definitely join him in the shower.

Downstairs I get some pancake mix out of the kitchen cabinet. I also get myself a frying pan and other stuff I need.

I start to make the pancakes until I hear the door open. I take the pan from the stove and walk closer to the door. It’s my parents.

“Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?” I ask curiously.

They walk inside my kitchen and set a big basket and a bag from Granny’s on the desk. I smell grilled cheese and onion rings. Great! Do we have a twin thing now, where they just instinctively knew I was hungry?

In the basket is a bottle of red wine, roses, and quite a few chocolates in all kinds of flavors.

What the hell is going on? Is this supposed to be a care package? What happened?

Oh, wait! Shit! Mom probably ran into Carter and now she’s here to convince me to take him back. Well, that isn’t happening. I’m happy with my true love. I don’t need Carter in my life. I never did, no matter what my mom might think.

Both my parents pull me into an embrace.

My mother begins to speak first. “Oh, Emma. We heard about what happened with Carter. We’re so sorry, sweetie.”

They pull away again and mom looks at me with pity. Dad weirdly looks pretty much okay. He’s probably celebrating our break up in his head as we speak. He never liked Carter and I really appreciate that. He just seems to get me unlike mom. We understand each other.

Or it’s just the fact, that he’s so damn overprotective.

But I doubt that’s the case.

He also didn’t like Killian at first, but all that changed the longer we were together. But even after years, my dad isn’t okay with Carter.

I doubt that’s a coincidence.

“We brought you some things to make you feel better,” Dad says and motions towards the basket and the grilled cheese.

We have a lot to talk about, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have some onion rings first, right?

I grab the bag and inhale the scent of my favorite food. So good. I have to stop myself from moaning at the smell. It’s just so amazing!

I take an onion ring out of the bag and bite into it. Then I continue the conversation.

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. Really. You don’t need to worry about me.” I bite into a grilled cheese this time. Maybe it’ll distract my parents and make them leave.

I try to get out of this conversation, after all. It probably won’t work. Not with Carter’s biggest fan being in this house.

Will telling them about Killian being back shut her up? I’m not even sure if she would be okay then. She seems to like Carter more, I think, which might be because they’re co-workers.

I just don’t get it? How can you support a relationship, that obviously makes your daughter unhappy?

“Emma, please, don’t shut us out again. You can talk to us.” Mom takes my hands in hers. “You’re obviously not fine. Your hair is a mess. Your skin is all flushed because you’ve been crying all morning. You seem exhausted. You’re eating pancakes in the middle of the day, wearing Carter’s shirt.”

Carter’s shirt? Is she blind? Carter’s style isn’t even half as sexy as Killian’s. He would never wear a shirt as amazing as this. He doesn’t have good taste, which is why he was always a safe choice for being my ‘fake’ boyfriend. There was never any danger of me falling for him because he’s just that boring.

“This isn’t Carter’s shirt, it’s Killian’s,” I say matter-of-factly.

My mom sighs. I could swear she’s about to facepalm herself. This whole thing infuriates her, but I don’t care. I’m not giving Carter another chance. We’re over.

“Emma, honey, I understand you’re still hurt, but don’t let the whole Hook situation ruin a good thing for you. Carter is great and he loves you so much. He’s the best thing that ever happened to you. You must give him another chance. Don’t give up on the two of you just because it seems hard right now. Don’t get scared off.” She gives me a smile, which is probably supposed to encourage me.

But it doesn’t. I’m not scared of anything after all. Not anymore.

I don’t need hope speeches because Killian came back to me and that’s all the hope that I need. He’s all I need.

“I’m not scared, mom. I just don’t love Carter.” I almost yell.

Mom gasps and looks at me as if I killed her favorite puppy.

“Emma, you and I both know that isn’t true. You do love him. You’re just too scared to see it because you lost so much before. But Carter isn’t going anywhere, I promise. He’s going to fight for you no matter what. He won’t just abandon you like everyone else. He’s the perfect man for you.” Mom is angry now. I can tell even though her voice is still pretty calm.

Dad obviously sees it, too. He puts his hand on her back.

“He’s not perfect for me. We aren’t a good match. Not at all.”

“Of course, you are. You two are perfect for one another. And you make each other happy. What happened overnight, Emma? You were going to get married. And now, you tell me you suddenly don’t love him anymore?” She snaps.

Then I see movement. Killian.

He enters the room, coming to my rescue. My hero.

His face looks sad. I hope he didn’t have to listen to all of this. He doesn’t deserve that.

I smile brightly at him. At the sight of that, his gaze softens, and he gives me a smile in return. But he still looks pretty sad. He might be able to hide that from my parents, but he can’t lie to me.

I know him too well.

I hate my mom right now for making him sad. Now he’s probably doubting himself again and I’ll have to fix that. I won’t give up on us. No matter what.

I reach my hand out to him.

That’s when my parents notice, that I’m not looking at them anymore. They turn around and their faces look ashen in an instant. Their jaws hit the floor. That’s probably what I looked like this morning when I first saw Killian alive.

Killian approaches me and I put an arm around his neck. I kiss his cheek. I fish an onion ring out of the bag and feed it to him. Then, I put the bag aside for now, so that I can hug him properly. I wrap my arms tightly around his torso and I rest my head on his chest.

My dad is the first one to speak. “Hook? We thought you were dead!”

“Aye, I was, mate. But now I’m back.” Killian answers.

My dad steps forward and envelops both of us in a tight embrace. When he pulls away, he has the brightest smile on his face. “I’m glad you’re back, mate.”

My mom seems to have gotten over her initial shock now, too. She awkwardly pats Killian on the back and says quietly. “Welcome back.”

#captain swan #a wish come true #emma swan #killian jones #david nolan #mary margret blanchard #prince charming #snow white #snowing #ouat #once upon a time #cs #fanfiction #fanfic #ff #fic

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lameblake · 5 years

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The 100 Ask Game

I was tagged by @foreverandalwayscrysis ♥

1. What Station on the Ark would you be from? Go-Sci because of the political aspect? Or maybe Agro because I could grow stuff and be very Monty-minded?

2. What would you get arrested for on the Ark? Either protesting poor treatment or making a clumsy mistake and wasting a ton of oxygen or something idk

3. Would you take off your wristband when you landed on the ground? I wouldn’t want to, but s1 Bellamy would scare the hell out of me, so I probably would despite myself

4. What would the necklace Finn would make for you look like? (Clarke: deer/Raven: a raven duh..) An elephant

5. If you could resurrect any MINOR character who would it be? Wells for sure 6. Create a squad of 5 characters to go on missions with. Who are they? Bellamy, Clarke, Indra, Murphy, Emori

7. What Grounder Clan would you belong to? Floukru, Louwoda Klion Kru, or Trikru

8. What would your name be in Trigedasleng? Alinya, maybe they’d pronounce the last syllable like ‘ya’ instead of ‘ea’ too?

9. Thoughts on Finn? Some people hate him, and others love him, so I’m curious. BAD HAIR.

10. Be honest. How willing would you have been to take the chip without knowing all the horrible things it does? I would do it to save people.

11. What character do you relate to most? Clarke; my love

12. What character do you like the least? Echo...sorry, not sorry. Really been struggling with Abby and Kane in s5 too....

13. Describe your delinquent outfit. (Would you wear something like Murphy’s jacket with the spikey red shoulder patch or have a trademark like Jasper’s goggles? Be creative, yet practical) I think I’d have a signature beanie tbh and a jacket that made me look badass and skinny jeans (idc if thats not practical)

14. Favorite type of mutant animal? The butterflies!

15. What would your job be on the Ark? Researcher

16. Would you have willingly pumped Ontari’s heart if Abby asked? I’d see if anyone else could do it, like....I’d make sure I was the ONLY option, but I’d do it....unfortunately

17. If Lexa wasn’t Heda, but she was still alive, then who would have made the best commander? Clarke or Indra

18. How would you act if you ate the hallucinogenic nuts like Jasper and Monty? I’d get even more quiet than usual. I’d just sit and stare at nothing

19. How would you have dealt with Charlotte’s crime? A more John Murphy approach or Bellamy Blake approach? Bellamy’s approach, definitely

20. Who should have been the Chancellor, if anyone? Diyoza (jk) no one

21. Would you have been on Pike’s side like Bellamy or on Kane’s side? Or Clarke in Polis? Kane’s

22. Mount Weather had a lot of modern commodities. (example: Maya’s iPod) What is the one thing you would snatch while there? Is laptop an option? id at least like to use it for typing

23. What would your Grounder tattoos look like? Hairstyle? War paint? I’d have delicate tattoos up and down my arms, intense eye makeup and long hair with braids

24. Favorite quote? “Screw fear, I’m telling my own damn story.”

25. If all of the characters were in the Hunger Games, who would have the best shot at winning? Any grounder tbh, but Bellamy, Clarke, or Diyoza could have a shot

26. Least favorite ship? Favorite canon ship? Favorite non-canon ship? NOT INCLUDING CL OR BC OR BE

Favorite canon ship: Memori Least favorite canon ship besides Becho: Linctavia? I can’t get over how he kidnapped her?? Favorite non-canon ship: Murven

27. A song that should be included in the next season? If there had to be another guest star like Shawn Mendes on the show, who would you want to make a cameo? I don’t know about song (im overwhelmed with options), but it would be fun if someone from teen wolf made a cameo as someone on sanctum (because jr)

28. What would you do if you were stuck in the bunker with Murphy for all that time? Same as him.

29. You’re an extra that gets killed off. How do you die? I go out a hero, trying (hopefully succeeding) to save others

30. A character you’d like to learn more about and get flashbacks of? Diyoza, Jordan, Emori

31. A character you’d bang? All of them....oops.

32. Would you stay in the Bunker? Go up to Space? Or live on your own in Eden? I’d live on the ring

33. In the Bunker, would you follow Octavia? What would you do to pass the time underground? I would because I had no other options, but also I might feel like I owed it to her for saving us. I would keep my head down and try to get work done.

34. What crime would you commit in the Bunker that lands you in the fighting pits? Rejecting something cruel and unusual that Octavia decreed.

35. Up in Space, who would you bond with first? Who would be the most difficult for you to get along with? Realistically, I’d bond with Harper first, then Monty by association, then Bellamy - I’d seperately bond with Emori and idk how I’d fare with the other three honestly

36. How long do you think you would last on Earth by yourself? Years, honestly. I’m practically a hermit anyway.

37. When the Eligius ship lands what do you do? Pretend no one’s home

38. Favorite Eligius character? Least favorite? Love: Diyoza || Hate: McCreary

39. Would you Spacewalk? If it wouldn’t break the rules

40. Would you prefer to eat Windshield Bugs, Space Algae, or Bunker Meat? Algae (im laughing so hard at ‘bunker meat’)

41. Would you start a war for the last spot of green on earth? What would your solution be to avoid it? Lol no. I’d employ people smarter than me to figure it out

42. Would you rather dig out flesh-eating worms or stick thumb drives into bullet holes? Ugh...the bullet holes one...begrudgingly

43. Are you willing to poison your sister for the Traitor Who You Love? What would you do to stop Octavia? Yeah. I’d do that

44. Would you go to sleep in cryo or stay awake like Marper? I would be in cryosleep as long as possible, babey

45. Who are you waking up first to explore the new planet? Bellamy and Clarke--thats it

Do you want to do this? You’re tagged!

#thanks for the tag!!#this was fun!#me

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pizsospa · 6 years

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Schneeplestein ARG

So this blog @schneeplestein made by @crazions caught my attention some day and it looked very interesting and I decided to follow it. Since they there have been a bunch of posts in what looks to be like an ego ARG (Alternate Reality Game) which also involves 2 other blogs. (It might not really be that but I will call it that anyway)

I like code solving and I love ARGs so i took the time to read through all of the story and decode what I can to combine it all in one post for anyone interested... Note that this thing has ended

Also note that I’ll only really go about the “hidden” material, not story, and I don’t want to repost any logs so I highly encourage anyone interested to go take a look at the original blog first. Some great work has been put into it and it deserves to be appreciated!

NOTE!! After I finished this post I did find out someone else made something and I don’t want to change anything in what I solved and take credit for stuff I haven’t done so I will just leave BIG LINK to this doc file by @3ksal that contains a lot, some stuff which I would have never been able to do

(Its a bit long so... everything is under read more)

TO SET THINGS DOWN FIRST! I might have been a bit too late to investigate all of this since I started this basically few posts before it offically ended. Some stuff seems to have changed and I have missed it :( So we start off with Henrik’s blog posting a text post containing a nice big link.

This link leads to a Vimeo upload with a placeholder text title, black and white patter and seems to contain morse code and someone speaking, all distorted. (I don’t know if there is anything behind that speech, I’m not good at all with such stuff. I also tried to solve the morse code, really tried, downloaded the video to slow it down but I just really have trouble with making out audio so... sad but I gave up on it) Besides that there is one QR-code displayed 2 times! That code is a Imgur link which will lead to this

A nice edited hospital hallway gif with some text, one of which is a code and the other another Imgur link to that

(thanks for no double coding)So we have a key and a code which I put into AES 128bit decoder (I know the creators seems to like that) and got..

A blog @97-110-116-105 . Now I found this blog way before I saw this so it was kinda useless to solve and the blog already had some posts on it. From what it looks like it belongs to Anti, so I’ll just call it Anti’s blog.

The actual story starts of with Henrik telling us his blog has seem to got all posts deleted and he has memory problems. He finds out he has some logs laying around and starts posting them along with general text posts about his situation and answered asks. After the link the first suspicious post there is this one. Some zalgo and some binary which translates to:

Someone clearly mocking Schneep On his post “a small update” is also the first time google doc links is added under the word “God”. More links like this are on some other posts later too

Some time later Schneep’s blog posts a second post similar to his very first one, it contains a Vimeo vid uploaded by the same user who uploaded the first one. It’s a glitched out distorted old ad for Camel cigarettes and wouldn’t you know? There is another QR-code in it! This time it links to a private page on Anti’s tumblr.

It shows us a morse code and a hexadecimal one.

First and foremost: I haven’t solved this. The hexadecimal code brings ”aGFwcGllc3RiaXJ0aGRheS5jYXJyZC5jw==“ which def looks like AES again but I can’t make out the key. I’m sure its in the morse code from the post plus from the video description and title but different decoders give me different answers and it just looks like a lot of random letters. Might be an anagram (that contains the word fun) but idk...

Sometime later regarding the story you might have noticed a 3rd blog from Chase that is also part of the story. It doesn’t have any hidden codes on it like the others. He interacts with some of Henrik’s posts and later even posts a convo between them!

But after some time we get a post of him on the floor along with a google doc that sounds like someone had shot him.

(Small post to note with a google doc link, I just like the writing)

Sort of hidden in some text posts throughout is a whole seperate website! (it is linked on 2 different posts)

NOTE that there was a countdown!

Taking a look at the header you can clearly tell it was counting down to Henrik’s birthday. I only found this on said date so i didn’t get to see this live, only when you click on the link it appears for half a second. And of corse... more aes code...

A sweet little message! Doesn’t mean much so back onto what the website showed after the countdown:

A german “welcome” greets us and you can have a dialogue with someone (sounds like Anti imo).

You will reach an end and depending on if the one you’re talking to liked your answers or not you will be guided to a blank page or to a site on Schneep’s blog.

Sneaky little creator has changed the picture on this page and I wouldn’t doubt it didn’t change before I saw it too, I only got to see 2 images though. First time visting I got this

Probably a picture of infusion bags hanging? highly saturated with filters on top. Changing levels of the picture in the right top corner you can see some binary but...

The picture is small... and it was way too hard to read no matter how I changed filters so what/if that means anything is still out there and hopefully not too important.

The changed picture is this now:

This is all that was to the extra site if the picture doesn’t change again. (I checked the source code too but since it seems to be made with the help of a website tool i doubt you can even hide anything in there)

Anti’s blog starts off with this

I fairly simply Cipher that really doesn’t mean anything(or does it?). It translates to: I REMEMBER IT LIKE IT WAS YESTERDAY

In general he laughs around at the other’s misery and mocks them.Here he links to some imgur post

(”DO YOU WANT HIM TO DIE?”) Doesn’t look like there is something hidden in it, but I have to appreciate the work, it looks really cool imo

In another post he tags it something weird looking but the “?=“ definitely told me it should be a youtube video link. I have tried to solve this and the “https://youtube.com/watch?=v” is sure but the rest of the link is hard to do. I have put it through Caesar Cipher decoder and decoded it by hand a few times, but the link doesn’t seem to work. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9i73ddxye4c I don’t know if it’s on my part and I actually did do something wrong, the video was deleted or lil Anti just played a trick all along.

Second post that links to another imgur site:

Looks like Henrik’s workplace with all these logs, a phone with broken screen, sticky notes and empty coffee cup and yet again!

Another code...There is one across all and then even damn morse code on the red one, really doesn’t make it easier to read with the 3d effect on top. I like to think I typed it off right and that “XILDM” was the key but it didn’t work. Plus the morse code is hard to read and I’m not sure in which order it should be so.... this is still open to be solved.

The last suspicious thing he posts is an audio post that sounds like an old clock ticking (?) getting louder. The name of it is yet another code and the picture a QR-code! The QR-code just leads to this, a google search for “does space have a sound” I thought for sure that would be the key to the code to solve it but no. I even thought ‘Maybe the key is the answer’ or the zalgo tag but no, don’t know what this one means.

All in all... I really enjoyed this!! I’m really sad to leave a bunch of things unsolved but I am not the brightest person for this. I haven’t seen anything like this in the community and outside it only a few that aren’t that interesting. While many will do a lot of code solving like this one, this also had more story and so much extra work put into it. Seriously, Google docs, the logs that were actual scanned papers, photographs, polaroids, The videos, A whole other website, The amazingly edited gifs and 3 whole blogs. A lot was put into this and I really like it, kudos to the creator, it was a really neat project! :)

#jacksepticeye #dr schneeplestein #schneeplestein arg #idk what else to tag this really?#blood tw #knife tw

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mocacheezy · 3 years

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Wanted to make a seperate post for this, because this stuff will go under a readmore. (damn it got long)

Added my two cents on this post, but here is what I do when I do have the energy leave comments on fics (and some extra thoughts on my kudoses):

Comments

There is such delight when I find a fic that I have to write my thoughts down while reading, because I love to scream my joy @ the author in the comment once I am done with the chapter/fic itself.

And hopefully by the time I reach the end of the chapter I can calm down enough to actually write something coherent aside from screaming and keysmashing.

Some fics get me that excited!

Some fics I had to put down while reading, so I could pace around the room, because the possibilities for where the situation could go are ENDLESS!

Some fics I've put down and picked up MONTHS later, because a chapter was just so good and made me feel SO MUCH, I was unable to read further!

There are fics I forgot about and returned to years later and was DELIGHTED to see them finished or still going (there was this one back on fanfiction.net that I adored with all my heart, and I plan on checking out what happened to it. The author went on a break around the time another fandom took my attention, but the fic was so good I still remember it from time to time. It made my life more than just bearable, it made me laugh to tears at some points. )

When a fic gets me that excited, I noticed I tend to either comment short excited comments before nyooming to the next chapter, or read all of it over a course of a couple of days, gather my thoughts and leave an almost essay long comment, because the whole fic was just so good and I want to say it all in one place!

There were a couple of fics that I actually WANTED to write essays on, because I appreciate the authors writting style so so so much! For some I still do, because holy hell, the writing and characterization is great, while ALSO gives us things canon/source material didn't explore. But, if I do that, I wanna do it good because KUDOS TO THE WRITERS!

There are also fics that have me grinning and commenting on what's happening outloud, but there isn't really that many questions popping up for me.

It's the delighted gasp and a "Bitch, you said WHAT? 8D".

It's the "Ohohohooooo this is going to h u r t".

It's the grimace or a snort of "You fucking bastard, I knew he was planning something."

With fics like that, I can sit still or do something that isn't too demanding attention wise.

It's relaxing. It's nice, it let's my usually very active and overwhelmed brain rest, WHILE ALSO giving me serotonin and the excitement/feels, but on a smaller scale.

With fics like this (especially one shots), I tend to leave shorter comments, because if I want to comment, but don' t have much to say, I'll still comment and tell what the fic made me feel.

"I liked/loved/really enjoyed this fic, it had me experience x"

Because I do like it! And so far almost every fic I read gets atleast one kudos because this stuff is so good and the authors are amazing.

I just don't have much to say at that moment. Or what I want to comment is missing something and feels too flat to me.

If I know I'll want to reread a fic, I usually bookmark it and write down some highlights/what I liked about it/make a comment of its own in the bookmark! Because looking at older bookmarks/bookmarks from a fandom you are no longer involved with can bring back quite the laughter... AND get you back into the fandom even!

Reading fics is supposed to be a thing you enjoy. If you are starting to dread it because you feel obligated to say something, hey.

Take a step back for a while. This kind of fear happened to me at some point when I was younger, especially when I started interacting with active content creators. They appreciate comments and those comments help so much when an obstacle presents itself and it seems like abandoning a story will be it. Comments and encouragment bring back the fire and joy of writing.

There is a comment I have yet to reply to, that's been sitting in my Ao3 inbox for 160 days (ALMOST 6 MONTHS, MOCA, GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER AND REPLY ALREADY!).

It's from an author who really wasn't feeling motivated and the comment brought them such joy and excitement!

Why is it taking me so long to reply?

I never expect/wait for a reply from authors. ESPECIALLY not if it's a fic that's older (there are some amazing fics that were posted in 2013!!! Who knows if the author is still active in the fandom!*), or if it's an ongoing one that gets alot of comments. In the second case, it's because the author is already writing the fic, editing said fic and uploading it, could also be working on a bunch of different fics (because writting inspiration strikes at the weirdest of moments and as someone who has around 4fic ideas happening simultaniously, people who ACTUALLY WRITE THEM? Kudos. You are amazing.), not to mention most fic authors do this in their free time. So there's also their jobs, social circle outside the internet, on the internet and the amount of energy they have for social interaction with strangers online. Who am I to expect a reply to that behemot of a comment I left on their fic? If it made them happy, great! If it made them go "woah, that's alot of words" *shrugs*, eh. I am a rambler, it's what I do, if they like it they like it, if they don't they don't. Not much i can do about that, though I did leave a note on my ao3 profile that they can contact me if long comments/ramblings annoy them, so I can stay off their comment section and scream about my love for their works somewhere else. Noone has asked me to stop as of yet, but I like to offer just in case.

Most of my comments are actually posted as if I was at cafe or a restaurant, and was offered the Book of Complaints, Suggestions and Compliments/Thanks.

Complaints? I don't have complaints to leave, because it's my decision on what content I consume, and if I don't like it, I can always search for something else.

And if I didn't read the tags? Well, that's on me. That's like ordering a new dish when you have a food allergy, not reading the provided and highlighted allergen notes and warning, and then screaming at the staff when your food arrives. It's not THEIR job to know what kind of allergies their customers have. It's the customers.

Suggestions? Is the author asking for those? If not, no suggestions from me! If they do ask, and I don't have an answer I usually take some time to see if I have anything to offer.

Compliments/Thanks. That is the thing I love and what I click the comment box for. If a fic made me FEEL something, I will let the author know.

Do you know how amazing it is to read a fic and sit staring off into space after you finish it because "woah... that. That made me feel so much at once that I can't even name it." ?

When you read a crackfic, and keep snickering and chuckling, before you finally burst out in laughter or wheezing or snorting with tears in the corners of your eyes because "OH THIS GOLD, I haven't laughed like this in a while!" ?

When you read angst that tugs at your heartstrings and causes actual tears to run down your face and feel the anguish the characters feel?

When you read angst, but the story has a happy ending? Any you get to see the characters claw their way towards it, and actually reach it?

When you read hurt/comfort and there is that gentle care and love and safety that makes your heart melt?

When you read a fic that feels like sitting by a window with a cup of warm coffee while relaxing music plays? (this last one is becoming my favourite of them all and is actually the one I struggle to comment on the most.)

There is such a variety of works out there! So many talented and amazing writers, with their AUs and a billion different ways of writing!

3. I am a very forgetful person, who has to check her inbox more often. Plain and simple. Nothing more to it.

4. Some of these authors write back such lovely comments that make me smile everytime I open my inbox. I think I might make a scrapbook of some sort, to keep track of them, because getting the feedback of "HEY YOUR COMMENT MADE ME HAPPY/EXCITED!" or "I really appreciated this comment, thank you." makes me smile. ^u^

Seriously fic authors are amazing, and this is why "Kudos to them." has become a thing I say irl as well, and in any conversation where someone creating a thing is brought up. I may not know or have a strong opinion on the stuff someone enjoys creating, or have nothing to really say, so "Woah, Kudos to them." is my way of saying "I admire their work (but don't have anything else to say about it)."

Learning it means Glory? Hell yes, those works are worthy of praise,and the authors really are glorious.

So here's where that lovely button comes in.

Kudos

I use the kudos button both when I have a comment to write and when I don't. I spam that button when I like something so much words fail me, and I click it when a fic reads like I have just finished a cup of coffee.

If I use the cafe/restaurant thing I talked about before as an example, leaving a kudos, to me, is like giving a smile or replying to the waiter with "It was great." when they asked if you enjoyed it.

I enjoyed it, but I don't have anything else to say.

Maybe it was just an interesting read, even if not to my usual tastes. It might get a kudos.

And if I read something that I thought I would like but it turned out I didn't like it or I felt meh abput it?

Well, *shrugs* well.

I don't have anything nice to say, and I probably won't read stuff from that author. There are others who will and others who will leave a kudos.

I don't think much about it because I read fics for fun.

I ramble about them because I am having fun and finally know I can share my experience with others.

You guys have probably seen the "Holy shit two cakes!" comic, which was originally about how artists/writers feel bad when creating something with a concept that many other more skilled creators used.

I remember that comic at some point also being used to explain that "It really sucks when you bake a cake, but noone wants to eat it."

I can't speak as a writer, because I don't post the fics I daydream about (yet! I don't post them yet!), but here's a little thing my daydreamer self likes to think.

I baked my cake, and I can eat it too, but I hope the cafe I frequent has something similar too.

Translated?

I wanted to read a fic like this, I made a fic with the idea I wanted, I enjoyed the process and the result, but I sure do hope someone else also makes a similar fic in the future.

I do however mostly daydream my fic ideas. So again. These are just my thoughts on the whole thing that is Comment > Kudos/Like > Reading > Not Reading

#moca talks #fanfiction #Comments #Kudos #kudos to the writers #And kudos to folks who leave comments #And a kudos for the kudos givers #Long post #Like... One of the longest ones I've written I think

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