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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 11 months

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There's Nothing I Wouldn't Do

Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia x Nadia Garcia (OC)

A/N: I wrote this to go along with a series being written by mayhemmanaged and cassmitchell called Gunpowder & Lead! Update as of 01/31/2024: This story is no longer connected to anything being written by the two accounts mentioned above. They are reworking this story. This is MY HARD WORK AND EFFORT and I will not be deleting it just because this character is no longer included in their story.

The character of Attie Blake is @dakotakazansky's. Fern belongs to @desert-fern. Obviously all of the Daggers are the property of Paramount. The only characters who are mine are Nadia 'Nova' Garcia and Alex.

Disclaimers:Female!Reader, and all the warnings below!

Warnings: Abuse, Recovery from Abuse, Assault

As a reminder, everyone’s experiences are different. Everyone’s experiences are valid. This is a fictional story.

My Masterlist

It’s just past noon on a sleepy Wednesday in Austin, Texas. The afternoon sun beats hot against my face. I grab onto the hood shrouding my features and tug it up a bit higher to make sure nobody can see me. You see, I’m not supposed to be here. The only reason why I am is the baby boy in the carrier strapped to my front. Alex. My son and the only good thing I have in my life.

So why am I standing in front of a tiny flower shop named Hera's Orchard in one of Austin’s winding streets of small businesses with my baby in my arms and everything important to me in a bag at my side? There's a rumor, a rumor floating around on the dark web talking about this place. Rumor says that if you walk in and ask if they have any asphodel in the back, they'll help you, no questions asked.

I inhale deeply, trying to breathe despite my bruised, aching ribs and broken nose. I have to do this. For Alex, there's nothing I wouldn't do. I can take any and everything Arthur, my husband, lays on me. But the minute he turned his hand on our son, I'd had enough. The bruised ribs and broken nose, they're what I'd gotten for standing in his way. They're also the final straw. The tiny bell above the door jingles and as I walk in, the humid air stinks of soil and the heady perfume of the thousands of blooming flowers lining the walls. I feel a little bit like I've walked into a jungle. But automatically, instantly, it feels a bit easier to breathe.

Alex seems to like being in Hera's Orchard too, his chubby little hands grasping for the bright colors he can see even as his big eyes go wide at the onslaught of new sensations. I cuddle him closer, kissing his downy head before boldly forging my way to the counter I can see in the back.

There's a sign on the petal strewn countertop, proclaiming, "Ring the Bell for Service! Someone will be out shortly!" Right beside the sign is a bronze bell, like the kind they have on hotel concierge counters. I press it just once, and then have to drag a few petals from Alex's little fingers. If I hadn't caught them, they would've gone right into his mouth.

"Buddy. Alex! No, honey. Those do not go in your mouth." My son is ever vocal, babbling very seriously back at me. I'm having an oh, so serious conversation with my baby when an amused mock cough catches my attention. While I was conversing with Alex, someone walked out from the back and came to stand behind the counter.

She's beautiful, her shoulder length brown hair is tied up into a knot at the back of her head and green eyes bore right through me. She's small and slight, but when she folds her arms across her chest, the muscles bulge with hidden strength.

"Hi, welcome to Hera's Orchard. I'm Fern, how can I help you today?" I can't hide my nerves as I slide the hood off, finally revealing my face to Fern. Her piercing eyes soften, seeing the bruises rising up vividly across my face.

"Hi, Fern. I'm Nadia," I make Alex wave with his little hand, "and this little guy is Alex. I read online that you just got a shipment of some rare asphodels into the store? I was hoping to purchase one as a gift." My throat is dry as I catalog the expression on her face. Fern's serious and stern. The sweet, slightly goofy grin she'd leveled at Alex just moments before is gone.

"Come with me." I grab my bag and follow her into the back. "Hey Charlie! Can you take over in the front? I've got a consult on a custom flower arrangement here!"

Charlie, a teenage boy, thin and gangly with the wildest curls I’ve ever seen, levels Fern with a lovestruck expression before walking out to man the counter. I know what he's so struck by. Have you ever been in a room with someone and been captivated by them? That's Fern's energy, from head to toe. I follow her into a small, plant covered office. Just as we sit down, Alex begins whimpering and gumming at my fingers.

"Sorry, he's hungry. D'you mind if I nurse him while we chat?" I can't believe I'm asking a stranger this question. Arthur would cut me down on the spot if he knew. Per his rules, babies are to be bottle fed only when other people are present.

"Of course. Feed the little guy. Take your time. I take my custom arrangement consultations very seriously." Her smile is soft as I situate Alex at my breast, heaving in as deep a breath as I am able as he begins to nurse hungrily.

"Now that he's eating, do you want to tell me a little bit about the person you'd like to gift this special arrangement to?" Fern's got a little sketchpad in front of her and she begins to sketch bloom after bright bloom as I explain what I'm looking for.

"So, you're looking for an arrangement that is subtle and beautiful to gift your husband?" There's something dangerous in Fern's eyes as she uses a knife to cut the sketch free and hand it to me.

"Yes.” I trace over the thin wispy lines of the sketch, before murmuring, “This is beautiful. How soon can you have it ready?"

I can't believe I'm doing this. Can I poison my husband? That’s the catch about Hera’s Orchard. It is a flower shop, one that has rave reviews and an ever growing list of clientele, but it’s true clientele is a bit shadier than housewives who want a fresh bouquet for their dinner table. ‘Asphodel’ is the key word in those situations.

"Come with me." Rather than answer my question, she leads me to a small doorway in the back of the shop. She unlocks it with a key and grabs my bag. With Alex in my arms, I walk through the door, pausing only so Fern can latch the door behind us. Fern stops at the end of the passageway, knocking on the door. A small window opens, looking us over before the door opens and we're let through.

"This, Nadia, is the Underworld. This is Persephone and Songbird. They run this place and are my closest friends." The women I see arrayed before me are beautiful and strong. Are they the salvation I've been looking for? Can they save Alex, and by extension me, from more suffering?

"Hey, Bruiser!" It's Persephone, her tone musical even as she wiggles her fingers at Alex. "What's up, Buttercup?"

"Seriously, Seph?" Fern's disgust at the nickname is palpable but I can tell it's a play at disgust more than the real deal. "This is Nadia Wilson. She walked into the Orchard looking for an asphodel."

Those seem to be the magic words. Before I can blink, I'm pulled to a table with Fern on my right and both of the other women in the room seated before me.

"I'm Persephone," Her voice is soft as she looks at me with Alex snoozing in his baby bjorn after his lunch. "Bruiser mentioned that you needed some help?"

At my confused look, she's quick to assure me, "Hey, you can talk openly here. We've got the entire Underworld locked down. Nothing leaves this room. I can assure you of that fact. We got the best hacker we know to build our anti surveillance gear."

As much as that intrigues me, if only because I just built an anti-surveillance setup myself, I desperately need their help more. So I let the whole tale spill. How I emigrated to Texas as a young girl and taught myself how to code. How I'd fallen in love with the green beauty of the city and the hills surrounding it. But sadly that wasn’t all I’d fallen in love with. Arthur Wilson had swept me off of my feet. He seemed like a gorgeous man who had money and seemed to adore everything about me. So I hadn't hesitated when he asked me to marry him.

"Alex," you explain to the women, "is the only reason why I’ve stayed in my marriage for as long as I have."

My breathing is ragged as I stare at the wall behind their heads. "Arthur, my husband, has hated Alex since before he was born. My husband hated how my body changed with the baby. He hates how I'm not back to my pre-baby weight or body type yet. So he takes it out on me."

"At first it was just with his words. A probing comment here, a harsh word there. Then he started hitting me. I worked so damn hard to lose weight, to go back to what I looked like before, and it still wasn't enough. He's been hitting me more and more frequently."

"Then to top it all off, there is something else too. He's been cheating on me, I know he has. I've found red hairs on his clothes and he stinks of a perfume that's not what he buys me and insists I wear. But I could stand all of that. Last night, he tried to hit Alex. He's only three months old!" Your voice breaks and a tear slips down your cheek as you sob the words out. "He's just a baby, after all. Babies cry!"

"I can't let him hurt my baby. I can't live like this. Not anymore. Please help me. Please." My broken tones echo in the room around me as I make pleading eye contact with Persephone and Songbird in turn.

"Of course we'll help you, sweetheart! We're the Furies. It's what we do." I can't help my sobs as I let myself fall apart at their words.

3 weeks later

I wasn’t sure what to expect as the outcome from that first meeting at the Underworld, not at all. But whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t this. It’s 3 AM and red and blue lights blanket the front lawn of the suburban home I shared with my husband up until a few hours ago. That’s when I’d come downstairs with Alex in my arms and found Arthur and his newest side-piece, the red-head whose hairs I’d noticed on his suits, dead on the lounge chair in his study in various stages of undress. Like any dutiful wife, I’d screamed until our housekeeper found me and stayed by her side until the police arrived.

My pain and fear are all too real. Since I met with Persephone, Songbird, and Bruiser, it seems like Arthur turned all of his attention on me. I’ve been under a microscope ever since. He’s added a potentially broken wrist, two black eyes and a twisted ankle to the broken nose and bruised ribs I had the day I’d left Hera’s Orchard with a gorgeous flower arrangement under my arm. So the tears I cry as I clutch Alex to my chest in front of the sweetest Police Sergeant I’ve ever met are real. His face has been continually distressed since he first found me and I can’t believe how good he makes me feel.

“Sergeant Mickey Garcia,” he’d said, smiling at me as I tried to settle Alex from when the baby had been startled awake at the sirens of what seemed like the entirety of the Austin Police Department spilled onto our front lawn. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

I’d stammered back my own greetings and let him lead me into the kitchen.

“C-can you tell me what happened?” He’d blushed crimson when I tried nursing Alex to get him to settle down. His face had only grown more and more serious the more I spoke. I found myself spilling the entire tale to him, captivated by the curls spilling over his forehead.

“Sergeant Garcia,” his superior, a man with arresting green eyes and dark blonde hair calls Mickey over to him. All night I’ve been getting appraising looks from the men of APD. Either I look like shit with a squalling baby in my arms or they’re trying to figure out if I have the courage to turn black widow on one of the Police Department’s biggest donors. I do, but they won’t ever know. I look like a beaten down, broken woman, but I’m far from it. I’m a professional woman. I build custom computers and security protocols for corporations around the world. It’s my true passion and calling, one which Arthur had never cared to know about.

As Mickey briefs his superiors, the looks I get go from being evaluating to pitying. I know I look a sight, bruises turning blue and green on my tan skin and with bags so dark under my eyes they’re purple. Add to that my pajamas, bedhead, and a squalling baby and I’ve successfully slipped under APD’s radar. They’re sure to have pulled the security footage, the footage my paranoid husband always had recording, by now, the footage which shows me asleep in my bed or sleep-walking to Alex’s room when my collicky baby wakes me up in the middle of the night. Alex is a sleeping weight against my chest before Sergeant Garcia walks back to me.

“We’re going to get you into an ambulance Mrs.Wilson and get you and Alex to the hospital and check out. If you’d like, we can call someone to come stay with you while you’re there and who can take care of Alex while we wait?” His voice sounds like sex and smoke. Were I not so recently a widow and not so injured to boot, I would have jumped him on the spot.

“Yes, I have someone I can call. I’d like to change and grab a bag for Alex if I can first though?” At his nod, I limp my way upstairs, putting together a bag for Alex before handing the Sergeant both the bag and Alex at his insistence. Arthur never once held Alex like that. When I step out of the bedroom in a pair of jeans and t-shirt, Alex is happily drooling against Sergeant Garcia’s chest and he looks too comfortable for this to be the first time he’s holding a baby.

“Wow.” My voice is quiet. “This is not the first time you’ve held a baby, is it Sergeant?”

His chuckle is bashful and shy. “No, actually. My sister in Miami has three kids. I’ve held them all.”

“D’you have any babies of your own, Sergeant?” I don’t know why I’m asking that question, not now of all times.

“No, I don’t. But I’ve always wanted to.” He clears his throat before helping you into the ambulance and handing Alex to you. “Now let’s get you in touch with who you wanted to call. Who’d you like to call?”

My voice is all fire as I say, “Attie Blake. She’s a friend and my lawyer.”

4 months later

Arthur’s sister and mother had put up a perfunctory fuss when they found out he was dead, accusing me of murdering him and any other depraved things that came to his mind. They even tried to sue me. But even their high paid team of lawyers couldn’t stand up to Atlas Blake. With Attie’s help, I managed to win the case and secure all of Arthur Wilson’s fortune into a trust fund for his son. Mickey’s been by my side ever since as well. It was almost too easy to fall in love with him. Especially when I saw how easy it was for him to accept Alex as a part of the package deal. Mickey helped me scope out the location so I could buy the small shop near Hera’s Orchard which I made into a net-cafe and officially introduced me to Birdie Floyd and Emory Seresin, who I only knew so far as Songbird and Persephone.

Since then, my life has never been better. The Furies are the closest friends I have, and the shop, named Daedalus’ Automata, is the perfect place for me to do my thing. What’s my thing, you ask? Before my marriage, before Arthur demanded a trophy wife, I was in cyber security. Give me any network and a computer and I could tell you how secure the network is and at least four ways that I could make it better. I also make custom computers and anti-surveillance hardware. It’s how I continued making money under Arthur’s nose. Now, it’s how I’ve been paying back the Furies for helping me. I keep any mentions of the Furies out of the internet and away from the Task Force’s attention. The best part is how Mickey doesn’t care when I come home smelling like grease with Alex in my arms. How I wish I’d met Miguel Garcia first.

It’s late when I stagger through the front door late on a Friday night. It’s date night and I’m so late that I’m sure any excuses I have will be flimsy at best. Mickey had grabbed Alex from Daedalus when he got off of his shift, so I don’t have the baby with me when I walk through the door. The entire house is filled with the most delicious scent, and as I look at my watch, I know I’m at least an hour late for dinner.

“Mickey?” My voice is soft as I toe my shoes off and walk through the house. “I’m sorry I’m late, vida. I had this absolute wreck of a computer get dropped off for repairs.” In part that’s true, I did have a wreck of a computer dropped off for repairs. But that’s not why I’m late. The Furies were running an op tonight, one for which I was on comms, making sure my girls were safe as they were running around doing what they do best. I walk through the kitchen, my heart dropping at the sight of the candles on the dining table, the wax nearly melted away.

“Mickey?” My voice drops to a whisper when I walk into the study and see all of my computer screens fired up, filling the entire room with their cool blue light. On the screen flash three dossiers, my own, Fern’s and Ranger’s in addition to the blueprints for the facility we hit tonight. It was a strict information gathering op, but so important. How could I have been so stupid that I hadn’t locked that information down before I left this morning?

“I think you’ve got some explaining to do, amor.” I’ve never heard Mickey sound so serious. “I love you, and I promise I’m not angry, just worried. Tell me what’s going on.”

I can’t resist melting into his embrace, inhaling the musky warm scent of his cologne as he squeezes me tight.

“I love you, Miguel. I just need to have you sign something first. Then I promise I’ll tell you everything.” Then I reach for my phone and speed dial Attie.

“Hey Attie, I’m going to need an NDA here.” I can’t help looking at Mickey over the next half an hour we wait in the kitchen. I’m puttering around nervously, barely able to stomach the stew Mickey made while I finished up at the shop. Mickey’s not much better. He eats too, but he keeps stealing these searching glances of me, and the tension enveloping our small kitchen is nearly too much to bear. He tries to speak a few times but each time, stops short. I can’t help wondering what this means for us, for Alex who already has heard us both refer to Mickey as dad or daddy.

It’s the doorbell ringing which startles me out of the pensive way I’ve been glancing into Mickey’s eyes. It’s Attie at the door with Bradley right behind her.

“Hey Nova.” She’s smiling, which should provide me with a sense of relief. But I can’t help the dread pooling in my gut or the bad portents which my mind is constantly bombarding me with.

“Hey, Attie. C’mon in.” I hug her for a few minutes before leading her and her six-foot shadow into our kitchen.

“Hey, Roos.” Mickey sounds exhausted and I can’t believe it’s because of me. “So you’ve been read into what the girls are doing too?”

It breaks your heart when he folds into one of the chairs at the kitchen table and runs his fingers through his curls.

“How bad is it, Bradshaw?” At Bradley’s lack of response, I can see Mickey’s jaw tighten and worry cloud his features even more.

“It’s alright, Mickey.” It’s Attie who takes control of the situation. “Read over this, sign it, and then Nova and I will tell you what’s going on.”

Mickey gives the document a cursory look over, scrawling his signature where required before pushing it to Attie and leveling me with one of his intense panty dropping looks. It’s with my heart in my throat that I let the whole tale of my introduction and involvement in the Furies spill. Anger glints in his eyes as I finish.

“I need a drink. Whiskey, Roos?” He can’t even look at me. I understand needing a bit to process, but Mickey’s never processed like this before. Please let him understand. Please let this not be the end. I share a scared look with Attie before standing to grab a tumblr for her, too. I don’t drink, not a drop, and while I’ve never minded Mickey or our friends drinking, tonight the sight of the alcohol slipping down his throat just fills me with dread. Maybe it’s residual PTSD from Arthur, who’d beat me if he got too drunk, but it’s just as likely to be the tense situation I’ve found myself in.

“So where do we go from here?” Mickey’s looking right at me as he says the words. “I know you know this, amor, but I’m on the task force hell bent on finding Persephone and the Furies. To stop them. How can I protect my family? The woman I love, the woman I wanted to ask to marry me tonight, when she’s on the other side of the work I’ve devoted my life to?”

My smile is tremulous as I launch myself into his arms. Relief floods my veins, maybe this isn’t the end!

“You wanted me to marry you, Miguel?” I can’t hide my sobs as I bury myself into his skin. His arms are strong and secure as they automatically wrap around me.

“Course, amor. I’ve wanted to ask you to marry me since the day I met you.” I can’t help the clumsy, salty, kiss I press to his lips. “I’ve wanted you and Alex from first sight. This doesn’t change anything, not between you and me. It’s going to change everything at work, though.”

I get lost kissing Mickey for several more long moments, until the baby monitor on the counter chirps, spilling Alex’s cries into the room.

“I’ll get him,” I murmur in Mickey’s ear. “Attie will join me. Talk to Bradley, vida. He knows, so does Bob.”

Attie’s a silent shadow behind me as we walk into the nursery and I change the baby’s diaper.

“It’s going to be okay, Nov. The entirety of Mickey’s loyalty is with you and this little guy. They’ll figure out a way to keep us safe. And we’ll do our part to keep them safe too.”

Mickey looks relieved when I walk downstairs once Alex is back to sleep. It’s looking at his face and the home that we’ve made together that I make a vow I’ll keep if it’s the last thing I do. I’ll protect my fiancé, protect his friends and protect our son. If someone finds out about the Furies, it won’t be because of me. Nobody I love will ever get hurt again, not if I can stop them.

It’s that righteous vision that fills my veins when Mickey and I get married in a small courthouse ceremony a few weeks later surrounded by our friends. It’s a hurried engagement, but necessary, especially since spousal immunity can only help when in our situation. He adopts Alex too. Attie checked, Mickey adopting Alex does not void the Wilson trust fund. Things seem to smooth between Mickey and I. Our two week honeymoon in Miami is the most fun I’ve ever had in my life. Not to mention, the most time I’ve spent naked in one stretch. Mickey didn’t let me out of bed for the first 48 hours we were there.

When we get back, life sinks into its own balanced pace. My new normal, punctuated by the gorgeous solitaire diamond on my left ring finger, is full of promise. But as things pick up and I start hearing more and more about a new king-pin taking over Austin, the more I worry about what’s to come. But I’m able to put my worries aside for the most part, staying vigilant. I do what I can to help the cause, sending the young boys and girls who need help to Cora’s Bakery down the street for pomegranate scones. After all, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and that’s all of us. It’s why we do what we do.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@dakotakazansky @cherrycola27 @thedroneranger @desert-fern @sarahsmi13s @hisredheadedgoddess28 @roosters-girl @roostette @bobby-r2d2-floyd @footprintsinthesxnd @genius2050 @angelbabyange @djs8891

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #controlled chaos squad #dagger au #mm gunpowder & lead #cm gunpowder & lead #mama may and birdie create mayhem #mickey fanboy garcia x oc #fanboy x oc #mickey garcia x oc #i hope you love this one #i had so much fun writing it #nadia garcia

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branmuffins22 · 8 months

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THE MONOLITHIC NAME LIST

I DON'T REALLY STAND BY A LOT OF THESE NAMES ANYMORE, BUT HERE THEY ARE ANYWAYS

(It's also worth noting that many of these were catalogued with the intention of being "street names" for characters in a punky, vaguely-Jet Set Radio-inspired thing. You've been warned for the weirder ones.)

Kayla Bran Bay Basil Bayla Wren Brine Red Base Lavender Bailey/Baylee(/others) Baylor Bee/Bea/B Mint Moss Holly Apple Bev(-erly) Babble Bramble Barley Brook(-lyn)(-n) Bren(-na) Hazel Heather Layer Ponder Eurybia Maroon Glen Grove Glade Mod Naomi Strat(-osphere/-egy) Maybe/Maybii/Meibi Bread Fen Ivy Autumn Pennym Burn Nova Dots Lemon(-ade) Acorn Dew(-drop) Peony Pine Maple Pepper(-mint) Parsley Penny/Penelope Phoebe Purple Pink Periwinkle Pomme/Pom(-egranite) Persephone Puddle(-s) Pandora Pancake Paj(-ama) Pan(-ts) Ennui Eerie Emmy Amp(-s/-erage/-litude) Aurora Ceres Patience Viridian Bow Lin/Lyn(-n) Ophelia Glaive Jav(-elin) Leaf/Lief(/others) Pith Telly Nemi/Nemmy Resin Amber Luna Jazz Jet Jasmine Jade Juniper Destiny Jive Juice Jolt June(-bug) Ellie/Elise/Elysia/Elysium Chameleon/Cammy Fern Reina [i think this one came to me in a dream?] Petal(s) Flora Fauna Vinyl [hey, there's a character in Bomb Rush Cyberfunk named that!] Notion Layn/Lain(/others) Peony Sicily Fuchsia [i still like "Fuschia" better tho] Alexis Star(-ling) Swift Sparrow Canary Nia/Neah(/others) Winter Summer Atty/Atrium Effie Breeze(-y) Sapphire Sap River Fooly Symphony Photinia Lyre Carpathia Epilet/Epilette [99% sure this one came to me in a dream] Freyja/Freya Num(-ber) Laylola [i think this one was me misreading someone's username?] Vim Pomp Kidd

#names #name list

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imightgetbetter · 1 year

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Matty with the baby carrier on his chest while running errands<333

attie is at his side holding onto the buggy in the grocery store because she needs to walk and lennon is in the front of the buggy and charlie is wrapped tightly in a carrier on his chest just snoozing away and matty is on a mission to get everything the missus needs in the house because she's been running herself to the ground with her next novel and taking care of the babies and so matty stole all three while she was sleeping and told them they were going on an adventure for mummy and he's like "attie, don't walk away from daddy, okay?" and she nods and lennon is just babbling away speaking in half real sentences half whatever language she's come up with herself and attie is listening but walking ever so slightly ahead and trying to reach for the sweets and matty is giving her the eyes and she's pouting and charlie is stirring ever so slightly so matty starts humming to get him back to sleep and he's swearing to himself he doesn't know how the missus does it all the time and then he realizes that she's simply just superhuman and probably gets a super cheesy card to bring home to her to thank her for doing what she does every day

#matty and the missus #asks #writing asks #i'm just hanging with my friends online #love it if we made it series

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yoonluvr · 3 years

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Hey. Came back online to tell y’all that I miss yoongi so much.

#attie babbles #my baby #i am ot7 biased #but yoongi was the one who pulled me in #to bts

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attllhak · 3 years

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Masterpost

Hey, I’ve finally found the need for a masterpost of all my stuff.

So, I’m Attllhak, but you can feel free to call me Atta. I’ve also gotten the nicknames Att and Atty as well, and both of those are fine too. Sometimes I write things, and this is where they go. My main is @iamyourchair and you can feel free to bother me there too if you want, though that blog is almost entirely reblogs of stuff I find cool. My AO3 account is Attllhak as well if you want to find me on there.

For navigation tags, I use ‘#atta answers’ for asks and ‘#atta responds’ for reblogs. If I ever post something that’s just me talking into the void I’ll tag it ‘#atta babbles’. The tags I use for when I’m talking about worldbuilding for my stuff or I’m talking about my headcanons are ‘#i talk worldbuilding’ and ‘#my many headcanons’ respectively. Everything that’s part of the same AU or part of a series will have a tag connecting them. Fanart I get for anything I make will go under the appropriate connected tag when applicable, and also the tag ‘#fanart for my fic’, but I won’t be linking to it on this post. I try my best to tag for triggers and warnings, but you can always ask me to add a tag I missed to something.

Feel free to pop into my inbox and ask me about any of my stuff, though I would like to ask that you keep it mostly to questions and potentially suggestions, as I am not comfortable with statements that feel like they are simply asserting things about my AUs or works to me, and anything that feels like it’s dictating my stuff to me will be ignored/deleted. Also, while I am an adult I would prefer to avoid anything NSFW, since while I am a biology/xenobiology nerd I am also aspec and don’t like discussing that sort of stuff, and certainly not publicly.

I’m putting all of the links to my stuff under a cut so it’ll update as I add things to it reliably.

LU Fics

Wild Returns

Swimming

That Fast Food AU Fic I Wrote For Tortilla

My Part Of The Meet The Chain Fic/The Door Fic

Sequel To The Crack-Fic Where Mario Is Malon’s Step-Father

MAJOR FICS AND AUS

Adoption AU (Done In Chronological Order For The Timeline, NOT Order Of Posting)

Lullaby Reacts To Time’s Batman Level Adoption Bullshit Ao3

Sky and Time: The Story Of The Family’s Most Unlikely Arrest

Adoption AU: Midna

Time is Outnumbered By His Sons And His Wife Isn’t Helping; The Floor Is Lava Edition

Warriors and Wild: The Epic Quest For Taco Bell At 3AM

The Kidnapping

Finding Twilight

WORLDBUILDING:

How Old Are The Boys?

What’s Up With Saria/Kokiri?

What Are Rusl And Uli Doing?

Rusl And Uli And Twilight’s Kidnapping

Wild’s Backstory

Tag: #adoption au

A Change In Fate

AO3

OTHER DETAILS I COULDN’T ELABORATE ON IN THE FIC:

What’s Up With Hyrule And The Furnaces + The Time Hyrule Sat On Twilight

Astor Looking Into Sky’s Visions

Symbolism In Sky’s Vision

Sky’s Theory

DLC?

The Look Warriors Gave Wild

The Instance Where Warriors Saw Twilight Go A Bit Nuts

Has Daruk Met Warriors?

Why I Wrote This Fic At All

Tag: #a change in fate

merAU

Sky Receives His Mission

What Happened To Warriors?

What Happened To Wild?

Wild’s Memories And The Trident

WORLDBUILDING:

General Worldbuilding

Is There A Map?

CHARACTER DESIGNS

Warriors, As Done By My Very Talented Best Friend

Tag: #mer au

WingAU (In Order Written)

Flora’s Musings

Wild’s Journey

Sky’s Flight

The Flying Pirate Rulers Of The Great Sea

Hyrule’s Reprieve

Legend’s Attempts At Retirement

Ravio And The Worst Flight Teacher Ever

Tag: #wing au

The Things I Did For The Gerudo Twilight AU

Twilight And Dusk Talk

Urbosa’s Story

Tags: #gerudo twilight, #gerudo twilight au

Warriors Swan Lake AU

Soldiers - Legend

Soldiers - Twilight

Enter Wild

Tag: #swan lake au

General Zelda Stuff

Ancient Sea Guardian (Originally posted to my main, link leads there)

Children Of The Woods

Termina’s Mythology (AKA the thing about the gods)

That Crack Fic Where Mario Is Malon’s Step-Father

Shopping Day

MAJOR FICS AND AUS

Surface Too Soon

AO3

Chapter 1: The Push And Fall

Chapter 2: Chasing Fi

Chapter 3: On The Surface

Chapter 4: Leap Of Faith

Chapter 5: Skyview Temple

Chapter 6: A Place To Rest

Chapter 7: Return To Eldin

Chapter 8: Earth Temple

Chapter 9: A Night In The Sky

Chapter 10: Revelations

Chapter 11: To Lanayru

Chapter 12: Into The Mines

Chapter 13: Lanayru Mining Facility

Chapter 14: A Brief Reunion

Chapter 15: THE GROOSE IS LOOSE

Chapter 16: The Hidden Village

Chapter 17: Dreams of a Goddess

Chapter 18: Recreation

Chapter 19: New Things

Chapter 20: Making Plans

Chapter 21: Studies And Things To Learn

Chapter 22: Near Misses

Chapter 23: Reflection

Chapter 24: The Night Before

Chapter 25: Reunion

Chapter 26: The Imprisoned

Chapter 27: Return To The Sky

Chapter 28: Roles To Fill

Chapter 29: Scrapper

Chapter 30: Isle of Songs

Chapter 31: The Silent Realm

Chapter 32: TBA

Tag: #surface too soon

Headcanons And Other Things That Don’t Fit Elsewhere

Twilight’s Eyes

Colour Meanings In LoZ

That Theory That Accidentally Explains Why the Egg Guardian In AoC Can Time Travel

Thoughts On The Master Sword

I Learned A Lot About Japanese Swords And Daggers For A Fic. Here’s That Trivia

How Does My Fairy Brand System Work?

Where Does Every Warrior Have Their Mark?

Do The Regular Captains Have Fairy Brands? And How Do They Pass Messages?

Elaborating On Warriors’ Connection To Proxi

Twili-Ordon-Zonai Connection And The Divine Beast Epithet

The Weirdest Thing Warriors Has Seen Fierce Deity Do

#masterpost #masterlist #behold it is done!#i'll update this post as need be #but it also might take me a while to do so #so don't be surprised if it takes a day before i do that #but this should stay relatively up to date #also this is my 100th post #so that's cool #lemme know if you want me to add any of the tags listed here to the tags on this post #i will happily do so

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uniqueleewritten · 4 years

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The Transfer of Cold Night Air

Inspired by the short story from Atticus Q Redghost of @evilsupplyco fame which can be found here on tumblr or on twitter:

Atty’s website and other social media can be found here:

And you should also check out The Peyroux Dispatch Omnibus which is available on Gumroad with a price tag of pay what you want. It’s filled with all sorts of wonderful stories focusing on monsters, mermaids, witches having coffee shop dates, fun kooky adventures, and cute monster flirting. It's very good and you should check it out.

I speak and I speak and I speak. The words just won't stop flowing from my mouth, but she doesn't seem to mind at all as she lays atop the water. The lake still beneath her body, as if she isn't there. Her hair flowing around her, long strands, so thick and gorgeous, soaked from the water and yet somehow looking weightless still.

I blush as I notice her eyes, black pools with the twinkle of the stars inside, staring at me so intently. She always watches, always stares, as if my words can mean anything, can be anything but ridiculous babble.

But her eyes always further the scene of serene calm that the tilt of her smile hints at, a way of telling me she is listening. A way to say that the way I speak matters to her. This time is no different.

That feeling of her eyes watching me and only me is a feeling that stops my breathing, that hammers my heart. It's a feeling I can not handle for too long.

"I've spoke too long, please tell me-" My words catch in my throat as her finger brushes against my face, trailing from one cheek over the bridge of my nose to the other. There was no way more effective in silencing me, not even if she had stolen my voice away. A motion of her finger moved the mightiest of oceans, and I am just as compelled.

Her touch is soft and gentle, stroking my face, my throat, my arm. Reminding me that she is right there, right in front of me, that she can touch me, and if I attempted, I could touch her too. But my hands stay still as I lean my head into her hand instead. Why should I touch such beauty when it can touch me instead?

She floats from the water, the night chill drifting off her body as she closes in on mine, and I can not find it in myself to care about such a trivial thing. Who cares about a bit of cold seeping into my bones and freezing them solid when she's there kissing me so sweetly. Soft and consuming, as if her lips can't bear to part from mine.

But part they do, and as always, a pang of sadness fills me, a hallowing feeling, as though I will never be whole again, at least, not till she reaches for me once more. She's smiling as she looks at me, her eyes twinkling with her amusement. What was she amused by, I easily wonder. Was it my babble? The way my knees collapsed under her touch? The way my body trembled in awe of her grace?

The palms of her hands caress my cheeks, her fingers curl under my jawline, the chill from her body freezing my throat. As if it was clutched in her grip, tight but gentle. Or maybe it's my heart pounding against my insides that's locking me up.

"I enjoy your words, my love. I wish to hear them continue to drip from your tongue, to see how they overflow from your mouth in the reckless need to speak them to me. I wish to hear the tales you'll bring to me each night we meet. The webs they'll spin with the silk you speak."

She brushes her lips against my cheek traveling over the bridge of my nose to the other. The ghost of her chill shifts off her and into me. It soaks into my bones once more, her presence making itself known, as if my body ever forgets her freezing touch.

One is not made to touch such Celestial Beings, and as her lips lightly press against mine, I am reminded why. Enlightenment. Wisdom. Peace. The calm of a simple spring breeze brushing over me as she steps back.

I was not created to learn her secrets, and yet she shares them with me anyway.

"Do you know, my love?" She speaks to me as if my brain has started working again already, but it must, because I refuse to ignore her words.

"I know very little in this world, Lady Moon."

Her laugh is like stardust, dancing across my face.

"That is not true, but I will allow you to speak such this night. I will tell you now, nothing you do makes me feel so loved as when you intently focus on telling me a story. Pausing to rehearse it in your mind once more so that you may tell it perfectly to me. Taking the time of your night to sit and speak to me.

With those gestures, you show how much you love me. You show how much care and thought you put into every word that you speak to me. It tells me how much you yearn for me, my love, and nothing is more special to me than that."

"Oh, my Lady. If my yearning is enough, then you shall have it until the end of my days, for you deserve it and so much more. But is there truly nothing more I can give you?"

"Well," she says, a mischievous turn of her lips as she moves to whisper in my ear. "I do have some ideas for other ways you can show your love."

And again she touched her lips to mine and my ability to think was lost to the chasm of the universe yet again.

#original fiction #but also #fanfiction #The moon #I dont know how to tag this #I wrote a thing

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piperholmes · 4 years

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You know, after reading all these great fanfics that feature Anne and Gilbert exploring the physical side of a relationship (these two always did make great students of education) I realize all I want now is for shirbert to confess their feelings but commit to not putting to much pressure on themselves and then spend the entirety of season 4 trying to hide their courtship but being really bad at controlling themselves.

Give me Gilbert limping home with an elaborate nuanced story of how he sprained his ankle falling down a ravine to save a lone fawn only to have Bash blink tiredly at him until Gilbert admits to having fallen off Anne’s roof when he had to sneak out of her room following a makeout session when Marilla came home early. Or a mad flustered Anne sporting a large wooly scarf declaring “Hickey?! Wha—how—I—pirate—noooo. I was attacked by a squirrel!”

But the best part is all of Anne and Gilbert’s school friends have proven themselves so clueless when it comes to shirbert that not a one of them questions the ridiculous excuses. “Anne, why was Gilbert Blythe holding your hand under the table in the library today?” 😳 “Oh...um...we were...just...uh...you know...measuring each other’s pulse for a biology assignment. Lol. Gilbert Blythe is gross” 👍🏻👍🏻 “Sounds legit.” Or some casual observer be like “why are those two necking in the dark” and Josie Pye looks over and says “that’s Anne and Gilbert. They’re just studying. They are always studying. Neither of them have time for a life or romantic feelings. I pity them” And rolls her eyes.

And Cole and Bash and Aunt Jo just spend the season dropping heavy hints in front of literally everyone about what’s going on sending Anne and Gilbert into a panic and then stare at the camera like they’re on the office.

Until it’s up to little Delphine to sweetly babble out her first full sentence as the families all gather together for the holidays, declaring, “Unka Gilby kisses Atty Anne.” And Rachel Lynde faints dead away.

Give it to me cowards

#awae #anne with an e #shirbert #anne shirley cuthbert #gilbert blythe #its not my fault fanfic writers are so good

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dragonasheswrites-blog · 6 years

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The Heaven We Didn’t Choose, Chapter 5: In Which the Royal Guard Intervenes

...And Sans winds up with more responsibility than he expected.

First: Chapter 1: In Which a Child Makes a Friend

Previous: Chapter 4: In Which a Diagnosis Is Made

Next: Chapter 6: In Which Everybody Threatens Sans

Click here for the story overview.

Attie was asleep by the time Sans found his way back outside Ebott Medical Pavilion. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d gotten there; the exit was one he didn’t recognize, and he was half-sure he’d just wandered in circles until the universe converged on itself and spat him out. Still, it was good to see the sky again.

The...night sky.

Well, shit. Boss was going to have his skull. He looked down at the sleeping kid. He couldn’t leave her alone, not after suffering through tears and awkward humans and enough medical jargon to make his head ache. He was starting to feel...responsible for her.

Taking her to his apartment would be the best bet, especially if Tori was still busy; he could start making calls in the morning. Hopefully Boss was still at that meeting thing, and Sans would have enough time to put Attie to bed and think up a good explanation before having to face the music.

Fortunately, teleporting with a sleeping kid was fairly easy, even if that kid was so heavy she felt like she was full of rocks.

Unfortunately, she didn’t stay asleep for as long as he’d hoped.

“SANS, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, AND WHY DO YOU HAVE A HUMAN CHILD WITH YOU??”

“Shut up Boss!” Attie whimpered in Sans’s arms, covering her ears. He lowered his voice; he was too tired to watch his words, regardless of whatever punishments Boss cooked up for him later, but he didn’t want Attie scared of him. “Look what you did! You woke ‘er up!”

“YOU DARE CONTRADICT ME?? WHY WOULD I BE CONCERNED WITH...wait, is that…”

“Boss, meet Atlas Dreemurr. Attie, this is my b...uh, Boss. Attie’s gonna have to crash with us for the night.”

“WHAT? SANS, WHY DO YOU HAVE THE AMBASSADOR’S DAUGHTER?? WHERE IS THE AMBASSADOR?? I DEMAND AN EXPLANATION THIS INSTANT!”

“Well, that’s rough, ‘cuz you’re not gonna get one until she’s back asleep. Guess you shouldn’t have screamed at me, huh.”

Boss narrowed his eye sockets and huffed. That was never a good sign. A yelling Boss was one Sans could deal with; a quiet Boss was plotting something.

Usually something painful.

“Very well, Sans,” he said after a moment, crossing his arms over his chest. “I will give you ten minutes to put the child to bed. In MY room; yours is filthy. The deadly death traps are currently disabled, and I’ve already changed my sheets for the night. Neither of you will touch anything in my room with your filthy claws. You will go in, deposit the child on my bed, ensure that she is asleep, and return here. Ten minutes, Sans.”

“Uh...sure, Boss.”

Well. That was unexpected. Sans didn’t know when Boss had developed a soft spot for kids; he sure hadn’t showed it back in the Underground. Heh, the last kid he’d acted this nice around was…

...Frisk, actually. Well. That made more sense.

Boss’s room was as neat and orderly as always. It gave Sans the creeps. He looked around; the decor was probably not what most humans found...comforting.

“You, uh, gonna be okay in here, kid?” He asked, giving a full-sized skeleton model (dressed in Boss’s spare suit of armor and a pair of sunglasses, of course) a light kick. “We can always punt and go to my room, but it is...uh, pretty messy.”

“‘Tsokay.”

“Alright, your choice. Onto the bed - hup! - and under the covers. Wow. This is pretty soft, huh.”

“Yup!” Attie seemed content, snuggling into Boss’s skull-print pillow. Her eyes were drifting shut already. Not really surprising; it was, according to the alarm clock on the nightstand, nearly 2 AM. Probably well past her bedtime.

“You gonna be okay up here by yourself?”

“Uh-huh. Just...can you see if Mr. Boss can not yell again?”

“He is pretty loud, huh.”

“Yeah. It woke me up. He’s not nice, just like you said.”

“‘Kay, then. I’ll go talk to him. G’night, kid.”

“G’night, Mr. Skeleton.” To Sans’s surprise, she sat up before letting go of his jacket and did...something with her face near his cheekbone. It made a weird almost...smacking sound? He’d heard it before, but…

Oh, right. A human kiss. He could feel his cheekbones getting red.

“Welp, that’s enough from you. Go to sleep, ‘kay? And don’t wake me up b’fore morning.”

Attie muttered something he didn’t catch, her eyes already sliding shut. He watched her for a moment, half-expecting her to sit back up and start babbling, but she was still and quiet. Her breathing got a little slower and more even and she didn’t move.

Back in the living room Boss was sitting on the couch, posed with his arms still crossed in a manner that was supposed to look intimidating. Sans told himself (as he always did) that it was not intimidating, no matter how hard his knees shook when Boss scowled at him like that.

“So,” Boss said, “You have Ambassador Dreemurr’s daughter in my room. I trust there is a good explanation for that, and that you are not using this apartment to continue your little...feud with the ambassador.”

“Y-yeah, I have a good reason, Boss. See, I was walkin’ home from the hot dog stand - like I always do - since I didn’t have a sentry shift t’night, and, uh, I found the kid outside. Said she was locked out. I, uh, helped the kid inside, and she said her mom wasn’t feelin’ well. We took Frisk’s temperature, found out she was runnin’ one hell of a fever. We called up Tori, but Tori didn’t wanna...”

Wait. Tori. Tori had filled in for Frisk at that mysterious meeting...a meeting which the Royal Guard would have been running security for. And Papyrus had been - was still supposed to be - at a very secret meeting.

“...You already know some of this, don’t you.”

Boss snarled. “Just continue. I am losing my patience.”

“‘Kay...so, uh, Tori was busy. The internet said Frisk’s fever was high enough to be dangerous, so we took her to EMP’s emergency room. They said...it was good that we brought her in. Said the infection could’ve spread a lot further if we’d waited; that Frisk...could’ve died. So, uh, we waited until she was out of surgery, then I brought the kid here.”

“I...see. And why, Sans, were you walking past the ambassador’s home?”

“It’s just...on my route, Boss.” Kinda. An alternate route, really. Boss didn’t need to know about the monsters who’d been hassling him on his usual walk home; the punishment for allowing himself to be hassled would be worse than anything the bully-wannabes would dare do to him.

“And why would you - you of all people - help Frisk’s daughter? It is no secret that you and the ambassador have not gotten along for the entire time we have been on the surface. Your petty squabbles have caused more work for the Royal Guard than I care to outline for you at this moment. You expect me to believe that you would help her?"

Sans didn’t really have a good explanation for that himself. Just...he’d felt some kind of empathy for her. It was stupid - he’d always been too soft, even when he still lived Underground - but...that was the best reason he could come up with.

“I wasn’t gonna leave a babybones to watch her mom die, okay? I’m an asshole, but not that big of an asshole.”

Boss considered him for another moment, then relaxed slightly. Sans felt his shoulders droop in relief. “Well, at least that lines up with what we know.”

“What do you know? Sheesh, no need to get all growly. I’m just askin’ ‘cuz I wanna make sure Tori knows what’s goin’ on.”

“Hmph. Queen Toriel updated myself, Captain Undyne and a few other elite guards when it became apparent that the ambassador was going to be...indisposed. We thought it was much less serious than it apparently is.

“Then during a break in discussions, the queen received your voicemail regarding her daughter’s condition, and another from the hospital giving a much more... concise and detailed explanation of the situation. She neglected to inform us that you were watching the ambassador’s daughter, which is a...surprising oversight. Regardless, she tasked some of us with disseminating the news among monsters and beginning the process of trying to control the media. You know this is going to cause a stir once reporters catch wind of this?”

“Uh…”

“You didn’t even think of that, did you. I wish I could be surprised. I’m still in shock that you actually performed an action of your own volition, and something that may very well have saved the life of a member of the royal family besides. It’s so out of character that I’m considering being concerned. As it stands, I’m just trying to figure out what you did wrong. There must be something; this is all too good to be true, otherwise.”

Sans stood very still, remembering one particular detail Boss would be furious about.

“Oh, by the stars; we may as well start damage control. What. Just spit it out. What did you do.” Boss’s control was getting a little terrifying, actually. Usually he started screaming and throwing things at that point in the conversation.

“I, uh...well, y’see, it was the kid’s - Attie’s - idea, but...she kinda...said I was Frisk’s fiancee?”

Boss stared. “You...WHAT? Well...this is going to be a nightmare. If reporters get wind of this, I am dealing with it, do you hear?”

“‘Kay, Boss.”

“I mean it. NO talking to reporters. They will blow the whole thing out of proportion and cause a scandal that will take months, if not years to clean up. Just stay away from them altogether. You will not prank them. You will not make rude hand gestures at them. You will not swap their recording equipment for assorted root vegetables with crude faces carved into them.”

Sans hadn’t realized Boss knew about that...incident.

“You will not distract them and teleport away, ESPECIALLY if there are cameras nearby. You will avoid them as best you can. If you are asked a question, you will say “No comment” and keep on walking. Nothing else. If you are cornered, you will call me. No redirecting them to someone else; they know who the official liaisons are when the ambassador is indisposed, even if they elect to disregard that information. I will not have you risking human-monster relations by running your fat jawbone about something you don’t understand. Is. That. Clear?"

“Uh...crystal clear, Boss.”

Boss thought for a long moment, staring at something over Sans’s shoulder. “Oh, and - against my better judgement - I’m taking you off all sentry shifts and that hot dog stand of yours and assigning you as Atlas’s full-time caretaker until Frisk recovers.”

“What?

But Boss…”

“No buts. She is, by all accounts, a resourceful and independent child. Captain Undyne has been her primary contact within the Guard, and she will likely want to stop by in the morning to...evaluate the situation. She’s very protective of Atlas; I suggest you be on your best behavior.”

“Then why can’t Undyne watch her?”

"Captain Undyne has patrols and administrative tasks, as well as active duty. Originally, we planned to have Queen Toriel and King Asgore take shifts with Atlas should the ambassador ever be out of commission, but both will be busy these next few weeks. There is much more going on right now than you can possibly understand. Atlas needs to have a guardian or the humans will take her.”

“But...but why me?"

“The child seems comfortable enough with you, stars know why. Keeping Atlas here will provide additional security. Everyone else is up to their eye sockets with real work. You barely do anything but sleep, as it is; you may as well contribute for once. This will be a learning experience for you. Take your pick.”

Sans growled again.

“Oh, and if you intimidate the child into requesting another guardian I will make you sleep in the dog park for the rest of the year. Am I understood?"

“Y-yeah, Boss. I’ll keep a good eye socket on the kid, sheesh.”

“You had better." Boss stood. “Now get out of here and go to bed. I must inform Queen Toriel of this development.”

Sans made a tactical retreat back to his room. For one fleeting moment, he really, really wished he’d just ignored the kid from the start.

Oh, well. He collapsed face-first onto his bare mattress and promptly passed out.

.oO0Oo.

BRRRRRRRING!

The sound of his phone alarm going off roused Sans from slumber. It took him a moment to register the numbers on his phone’s screen.

7:01 AM.

Ugh.

He grabbed it and silenced the alarm (titled, “WAKE UP, SANS”), then tried to slide it under his pillow. The movement caught on something...connected to his phone?

Oh. The charger.

He disconnected the phone ( carefully; charging cords were so weirdly fragile) and reluctantly sat up. If his phone was charged and his alarm was set, that meant Boss had ventured into the depths of his room. That meant he was undoubtedly supposed to be doing something.

He blinked a few times, trying to remember. Nothing.

He glanced down at his phone. 131 text messages and 25 voicemails awaited him. Ssssskip.

He was still wearing day clothes. That was probably...not good? Maybe? What had he been doing? He felt so tired. Couldn’t he go back to sleep…?

BRRRRRRRING!

His eye sockets opened again, slower this time. 7:05. Another alarm, this one called, “SANS, DON’T FORGET ATLAS.”

Huh. What did he need an atlas for?

BRRRRRRRING!

7:07. “UNDYNE WILL BE AT THE DOOR IN THREE MINUTES.”

Undyne? Why was Undyne…

Wait. Undyne. Atlas. Attie.

He hauled himself off the mattress, stumbling a little. Sure enough, Boss’s door was clear of the ‘deadly death traps’ he favored when he was out doing Royal Guard things. A quick peek inside proved that Attie was - thankfully - still asleep. Boss’s alarm clock was dark; apparently, he’d unplugged it before heading out.

BRRRRRRRING!

Sans quickly silenced the alarm on his phone without reading it. Attie just rolled over, eyes still closed, apparently not too bothered by the noise.

The sound of a knock came from the front door of the apartment. He reluctantly shuffled over and unlocked it, positioning himself carefully -

“HEY, PUNK!!!” Undyne slammed the door open - narrowly missing his head - and strode into the apartment. As usual, she eyed the slightly shabby living room with barely-disguised disgust, then glared at Sans like it was his fault.

“Hey, Capt’n.”

“That’s Captain Undyne to you, sentry. Now, where’s the kid?”

“Sleepin’. We had a late night.”

“Ha! YOU had a late night? I’ve been awake for TWO DAYS STRAIGHT!”

That explained the manic gleam in her eye. “That sounds...awful.”

“Huh? Oh, this is nothin’.” She wavered a little as she brushed by him. “Is that coffee I smell?”

He breathed in deeply. “I think so. Want a mug?”

Undyne was already in the kitchen. “Nah. Mugs are for LOSERS!” She grabbed the carafe - still piping hot - and poured a generous portion into her mouth. “GAH! Stop staring at me and GO GET THE KID! We have a FULL DAY PLANNED!” She took another gulp.

A little resentful of Undyne for hogging the coffee, he shuffled back towards Boss’s room. Attie was still asleep as he’d left her, curled up on her side.

“Hey, kid?”

No response.

“Kiddo? Buddy, pal, chum?”

Nothing.

“Uh, Attie? Atlas? Wake up?”

The kid’s nose scrunched and her eyes opened just the tiniest amount. She hummed a little under her breath.

“Hey! There ya are. There’s someone here to see ya.”

“Mr. Skeleton…?”

“Uh, well, sure. I’m here, but you’ve already seen me, right?” He waved his hands like Mettaton did when executing a particularly flashy attack. “But there’s someone else here. I didn’t realize you knew the fish-lady.”

“Huh?”

“Y’know, Captain Undyne? Tall, blue, smells like-”

“Undie’s here?”

Sans snorted. “S-sure, kid. Oh-oh gosh. Yeah, sure, “Undie’s” here.”

Attie smiled, then stretched sleepily. She moved about as fast as he did in the morning. By the time they made it back down the hallway, Undyne had finished the entire carafe of coffee. Luckily, she’d been over to their apartment before and knew how to operate the coffee machine; she was watching a small stream of brewed coffee trickle into the carafe like it held the secret to life and happiness.

For someone who’d been awake for 48 hours and counting, it probably did.

“Undie!” Attie said, running straight for the feared Captain of the Royal Guard. Sans tensed, ready to grab the kid and run, but-

“Hey, lil’ nerd!” Undyne swung Attie up over her head, high enough that ankles brushed the low ceiling, then settled the kid on her hip. It looked disturbingly domestic. Or it did, until she turned a formidable glare at Sans, who was snickering in the doorway. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

He snorted. “Why not? The kid-”

“...Is one of my besties. You aren’t. It’d suck to have to babysit without your jaw, now wouldn’t it?"

Point taken.

“Undieeee, you’re being silly! Mr. Skeleton has his jaw!”

"Mr. Skeleton? Sans, you little shit! You make her call you Mr. Skeleton?”

The skeleton in question grumbled under his breath. “Was her idea…”

Undyne cackled. “Kid, you ain’t gotta call him ‘Mr.’ nothin’! This asshole is just ‘Sans.’ Or ‘Shit.’ Either one’s fine.”

Attie giggled like Undyne had just told a joke.

“ANYWAYS! Papyrus took care ‘a ya, see? Oatmeal! Aww, don’t scrunch yer face up like that, punk. See? There’s a bowl here for that asshole, too. Misery loves company, right? And hey, lookit that! Papyrus gave you the little dinosaurs from both packages of oatmeal! You get double dinosaurs today!”

Sans glowered. He didn’t care about dinosaurs in his oatmeal, not really, but it was the principle of the thing.

Attie tilted her head to the side. “Who’s Pa-py-rus?”

“Huh? You met him last night, remember? Loud, tall, wears black. Y’know, the skeleton guy who isn’t a lazy asshole.”

“Oh! You mean Mr. Boss?”

“Mr…” Undyne lost it. “OH MY GOSH, THAT’S THE BEST THING EVER! HAHAHAHA! Bone bag, I blame you for this! Oh...oh gosh…”

“What’s so funny, Undie?”

“N-nothin’, punk! Just...just let me breathe...whoo boy…” She took a few deep breaths, steadying the kid. “Oh! Coffee’s done!”

Attie was promptly dropped to the floor as Undyne turned complete focus towards the one true love of her life. The kid landed on her feet, thankfully, and contented herself with distributing the oatmeal and spoons.

It wasn’t Grillby’s, but it was food all the same. Frowning, Sans poked a funny lump that looked like it had been added after the rest of the oatmeal in the bowl. A tiny little orange dinosaur was inside.

“The orange ones are the best,” Attie whispered over the sounds of Undyne grossly demolishing the coffee. She gave him a grin that he could only describe as conspiratorial.

“Uh, thanks, kid,” he whispered back, eating the evidence of her little kindness.

Breakfast finished up quickly once Undyne ran out of coffee again. “Okay, punks,” she growled, “Here’s what we’re gonna do today. First, we’re gonna TRAIN!”

Attie cheered.

“Then, we’re gonna start on SCHOOLWORK!”

The cheering stopped.

“Aww, c’mon, don’t be like that. You know ya gotta do it. ‘Sides, we’re gonna start with HISTORY, not that nerdy science crap.”

“Hey,” Sans protested, personally offended by that remark.

“Pfh. You’re gonna do the nerdy crap with her, bone bag. I’ve gotta take off after lunch and do eff’n paperwork.”

Attie blew a raspberry. “Eff’n paperwork! Blech!”

“Shuddup!” Undyne put a hand over the kid’s mouth, like she expected Frisk (and all her accompanying maternal wrath) to tear through the apartment at any moment. “Ya can’t say the “eff’n” word until you’re grown up or your mom’ll kill me, ‘kay?”

“‘Kay!”

Sans sighed. “And what about her mom?”

Undyne looked at him with a disturbing intensity. “None of your business, asshole. ‘Sides, you hate Frisk, right?”

He glanced at Attie, who appeared to be memorizing every word of the exchange for future blackmail. “I...uh...well...the kid’ll wanna see her, right? I’m supposed to watch her, ‘s all.”

“What? Why would Attie wanna go see someone in the hospital?”

Attie looked up at Undyne with one of the most pathetic, pleading expressions possible on a human face. “Pleeeeeease, Undie? Can we go see my mommy today? Please?”

“...Huh. Well, squirt, I dunno what good it’ll do ya, but sure. LATER, after schoolwork.” Undyne’s phone buzzed, and her eyes scanned the screen for a long moment. It looked like she was having trouble focusing. “Oh! You’ve gotta get your ass to the hospital, like, now, bone boy. I’ll watch the kid. We’ll have an official liaison in place later to get us updates, but for now you’re one of the few folks on the visitation list. We’ve gotta make sure she’s still alive and stuff.”

“Okay.” Sans, grateful for the escape, shuffled as quickly as he could manage towards the door.

He was thwarted by a blur of blue. “NOPE! Change first!” she ordered, shoving him backwards so hard he fell over. “And take your phone so we can track you. If you DARE slack off or try to escape us, I’m gonna sic the dogs on you. Got it?”

“Fine.” He picked himself up, brushed off his pants, shuffled back towards his room and slammed the door. He could hear Attie whining that she wanted to go instead, and grimaced.

It took three changes of clothing before he found something Undyne deemed ‘acceptable’ to visit the hospital in. He wasn’t sure why she wanted him to wear long pants and his last clean turtleneck (red, naturally), but he wasn’t about to argue with the Captain of the Royal Guard.

Not when Attie was close enough to get caught up in the destruction, anyways.

After he passed inspection, Sans beat a hasty retreat. Attie was distracted by Undyne’s ‘training,’ so he was able to slip out without too much fuss. They appeared to be training Attie’s ability to pose dramatically and scream insults: a vital part of any monster’s childhood. He stopped to snap a photo - to blackmail Undyne in the future, of course; not because it was cute - and slipped out the door.

#Dragonashes writes #Undertale #Underfell #The Heaven We Didn't Choose #Sans #Attie #Papyrus #Undyne #Babysitting #This Papyrus is not a good brother #The root vegetable incident was pretty funny #Someone get this fish a bed #UndyneXcoffee OTP #Sans you are terrible at blackmail #Undyne helped raise this kid #She won't be embarrassed by pictures of her ruthless battle training #Sans lies to himself daily

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onesparrow · 7 years

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What is Ari’s personal hell like? Is there anyone or anything there to terrorize them?

Includes references to torture, body horror, and murder.

Each level she descends, there’s more and more water on the floor. By the time Ariadne gets to three levels down it’s halfway up her knees, but she knows she needs to keep going. There’s something behind the door at the end of the hallway, something she needs to see, but her hand hovers over the doorknob. The last time she had this feeling, one floor up, she’d found Fiona encased in lyrium, and had felt to horrified than do much more than turn around and walk back out. She grabs the doorknob, has to put force behind the door to push it open. The horror she felt at the sight of the first enchanter turning to stone did nothing to prepare her to see Josephine on the ground, back against the bars with a snapped neck. Ari knows she should stumble back, but her eye is drawn to the cell bars she’s leaned against, where Cullen is chained to the wall by his wrists, up to his chest in red lyrium, staring at Josephine’s body.

Ari can’t do much more than slam a hand over her mouth to stop the scream she lets out, stumbling backwards. Cullen doesn’t notice her, going back and forth between reciting the Chant of Light and muttering under his breath. When she manages to gather herself enough to move forward, feeling as if the water was up to her neck instead of her shins, she hears what he’s repeating, voice hoarse; “She asked me to do it, it’s better this way, she doesn’t hurt anymore, she asked me to, she asked me to, she asked me to”, over and over. He doesn’t see her until she’s at the bars of his cell, and when he catches sight of her he starts laughing hysterically. He’s cut off by the coughs that wrack his thin frame, making him wince as it drives the lyrium further into his chest. The noise makes her flinch. She manages to kick down the door to the cell, rusted from the damp, but doesn’t know what to do when she gets into the cell. Cullen grins at her too widely with bloody teeth and red eyes, even as he goes back to babbling nonsense. It takes her a minute to realise that he thinks that he’s hallucinating. She grabs his face, makes him look at her, and it stops his babbling, makes his eyes focus on her. Ariadne tries not to pay attention to the band of lyrium that has already grown up his throat and is about to reach his temple. He blinks slowly down at her, eyes clearing a little as his brow wrinkles in confusion.

“Oh,” he breathes, “you’re here.”

She nods, can’t bring herself to do anything but to flutter her hands uselessly above his chest to try and get his breathing to become more steady.

“But you died. They said…”

He trails off, and she shakes her head, trying to find the pieces to put together everything that happened, but before she can find the right words, his gaze slips from her face back to Josephine’s body, visible over her shoulder, which causes Cullen to lose focus and start babbling again, voice frantic and terrified.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I had to, she asked me to, it was better this way, she’s safe now, they can’t hurt her anymore-” Realisation and pain sweeps over her as Cullen continues to mumble apologies.

She grabs his face, ignoring the way the red lyrium burns her palms as she begs him to focus back on her. She doesn’t stop until his rantings slow, and his gaze clears when he looks back at her. She whispers as many reassuring things to him as she can, some truths and some lies, anything to try and keep him calm. Ari is well aware that she needs to leave, that she has somewhere to get back to. Something she has to do. And she’s about to go do that, to leave him here, when he smiles at her, even though she can see that it hurts him to do so.

“Herald,” he whispers, even as the red overtakes his eyes again, “I missed you, when you were dead.”

Her heart breaks, a little bit, when he loses lucidity again, back to repeating the Chant of Light over and over again. Her hand drops from his face, still burning, and she backs out of the cellblock, shutting the door behind her. The splashing of the water turns to hollow thumps when she makes her way back up the stairs, back to higher up in the castle where its drier. She’s gets through several more hallways and a courtyard interrupted before she reaches a large room, a red templar standing in the middle, red lyrium bursting through his shoulders and back. It’s facing away from her initially but slowly turns to face her when it hears the door slam shut behind her, the lyrium creaking as it moves. Ari reaches for her staff, has one hand wrapped it when she freezes, looking at the familiar scars on the left side of the templars face.

The red templar that faces her has glowing red eyes and a crack of lyrium running from temple to opposite jaw, cutting across the middle of a red nose. He shows no recognition when his gaze lands on Ari, still standing frozen with one hand wrapped around the staff strapped to her back. She can’t take her eyes off of the face that she knows better than her own, the body encased in lyrium that moves towards her slowly warped but still achingly familiar. Her voice catches in her throat as she tries to speak, letting her hand drop from her staff at the same time as the templar reaches for his sword. It’s not until he’s standing directly in front of her, sword raised, ready to cut her down that she manages to speak.

“Atti,” she chokes, trembling hands held palms up in front of her, staring up at her twin brother’s sneering, cracked face, “I’m sorry, Atti, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, Atti please-“

“You were never going to be able to save us,” he says, voice echoing across the lyrium.

The sword comes down.

#okay so this is all a dream #but everything up until her running into attis actually happened in future!redcliff castle #she found cullen and josie #but obviously dorian was there #but this is a dream so she's alone #but this would def be her personal hell #ariadne lavellan #attis lavellan #until lambs become lions #sparrow writes #dragon age #da fic #ellstersmash #sparrow speaks #mine #my writing

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leighmackeen · 6 years

Text

5-29-18 @ 1900 hrs. Today I filed the following two documents in Machias District Court Docket No. MACDC-PA-2018-23 Rebecca Sinford, aka Marshall Health Care, LLC, Plaintiff v. Leigh MacKeen, Defendant Pro Se, and a Final Hearing haz been scheduled for 5-31-18 @0830 hrs. that iz open to the Public.

Exhibit N. Atty. Dennis Mahar, Maine Bar No. 3302 P.O. Box 402 - 110 North St. Calais, Maine 04619 Re: MACDC-PA-2018-23 Atty. Mahar, I learned from the Internet today that you were born in 1961, making you 57 years of age, but looking 67 years OLD a couple of weeks ago at your office. Do you worry a lot about “things”?. A lady at the Maine Bar told me today that you took the Attorney’s Oath in Title 4, Section 806, on Oct. 1, 1986, “suppozedly” TO GOD, when you were 25 years of age, but did NOT believe in God. On July 2, 1982, when blaine-blayne cushing MURDERED Richard Foss in Little Machias Bay, Cutler, Maine, by drowning him and then reporting it TO ME az “an accident while stealing lobsters from a lobster car”, you were 21 years of age, living in Pembroke, and friends with blaine-blayne who probably terrified a little atheist fagget like you. That “accidental drowning” investigation OF MINE WILL BE re-opened, and your Spiritual Amnesty ended on 5-11-18. In 1984 when blaine-blayne cushing MURDERED Linda Maxwell, you were 23 years of age, living in Pembroke (pop. 778), and still friends with blaine-blayne. Were you at the party the night she wuz MURDERED BY DROWNING, with your friends blaine-blayne and heather henry tenan? Did your fagget pals Det. dave burns or Tpr. barry curtis question you about her MURDER? With all the evil Facebook friends you have, and your new evil Clients at Marshall Health Care, you must be a really evil lawyer, but a weak and pathetic human being. Why don’t you put a photo of what you REALLY look like now on Facebook?. Looking forward to seeing you in Court on 5-31-18. Pleaze bring some of your evil friends with you for moral support. It’ll increase my odds of seeing someone DIE FROM FEAR OF DYING. Sincerely yours, Leigh MacKeen, Chief Spiritual Leader for God, our Mother. 5-29-18 STATE OF MAINE DISTRICT COURT District Seven Rebecca Sinford Division of Machias aka Marshall Health Care, LLC, Docket No. PA-2018-23 Plaintiff v. Leigh MacKeen, Defendant Pro Se Motion For Judge Charles Budd’s Judicial Notice Of The Following: 1. Attached Exhibit N. addressed to Atty. Dennis Mahar, dated 5-29-18. 2. EVERY WORD that you speak or write on 5-31-18 that duzn’t relate to you RETRACTING YOUR ILLEGAL 3-30-18 Temporary Protection Order and Dismissing this EVIL and BOGUS case that YOU “knowingly and intentionally” created against me IN BLATANT VIOLATION OF the U.S. and Maine Constitutions, your Oath of Office IN the Maine Constitution that you “suppozedly” made TO GOD, and Judicial Canons 1. and 2., WILL, unless you’re DEAD, be uzed against you (az in Miranda) after YOU are arrested for the FELONIES of “knowingly and intentionally” denying me my Civil Rights to “due process and equal protection of the Law” by abuzing your authority az an appointed Public Servant. Have you had fagget sex with our atheist fagget catholic gov. pall lepage YET? Which one of your putrid parents, if not both, did you have incestuous sex with az a little bitty budd with shiny yellow plastic hair? Were you also an altar boy/girl who ENJOYED having fagget sex with your atheist fagget priest?. Are you a LEGAL U.S. Citizen? 3. You only know what EVIL LIARS have told you about me, and I don’t believe that you fully comprehend what HAZ been happening in Washington County, Maine SINCE Aug. 13, 1993 when I began telling people, specifically State Police Sgt. Wes Hussey and the bible holding and babbling C.O. Millard Davis, that “God is our Mother”, az I wuz being brought into the Washington County Jail after my second FALSE arrest in 3 weeks that corrupt authorities needed some documents from to help cover up my first FALSE arrest on July 24, 1993 (see Exhibit M. “The Booking of Leigh on July 24, 1993″). 4. For nearly 25 years now, that factually and logically predicated Spiritual Truth haz been WORRYING and PREMATURELY AGING evil people who deny it, primarily in Washington County where I’m a lot more FAMOUS than I wuz 30 years ago az a Maine Marine Patrol Officer. Washington County iz most likely where Electatruthsion will begin taking it’s CLEANSING TOLL EN MASSE on the evil filth of atheist faggets here, probably with an epicenter of Cutler, Maine (pop. 507), my hometown, where most of the residents hate me ALMOST az much az they hate themselves for being INCESTUOUS FAGGETS who are UN-happy whenever they think of GOD. 5. Common sense, prudent Judicial Review, and compliance with Judicial Canon 2. dictate that YOU SHOULD HAVE ALREADY read my Pleadings, Filings, and Exhibits, which MEANS that pursuant to Exhibit C. “The Book of Leigh” (6 pages), YOUR period of Spiritual Amnesty ENDED on or about April 10, 2018 when I filed it in this case. And since then you’ve been earning lots of punishment from God after you physically DIE, for helping other evil people FUTILELY trying to prevent The Spiritual Salvation of the Earth from taking place under my Spiritual and Moral leadership, and thereby perpetuating ALL of the evil and suffering that’s taking place all over the Earth EVERY DAY. And then there are the THOUSANDS of other Maine Citizens who have also been VICTIMIZED by this UN-Constitutional process that you CORRUPT and CONTEMPTIBLE judges are responsible for, who are gonna get a chance to read every page of this case on my PUBLIC Social Media sites. Dated this 29th day of May, 2018 Defendant Pro Se Leigh MacKeen

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