#for everyone to get out of the collapsing tunnels

[inkskinned]

you worry the cardboard sleeve around the coffee and think about landfills and the future without straws. you are worried about prion disease and deer. you are worried about the rising temperature of mushrooms. you are worried about teflon and microplastics and carcinogens and whatever else you're being quietly lied to about.

your mother used to jokingly say you are "a worrier," which always kind of oddly hurt your feelings. you feel like a person. and besides, you've been told one-million-times that this is normal. examples get trotted out in a pony show each time: everyone gets nervous sometimes. they talk about public speaking and picturing people naked and how when they get nervous they just-get-over-it.

you run your hands down the grater of your life and feel the sharpness. you started holding your breath in tunnels as a kid, worried that if you relax, the ceiling would cave in. like years of architects and engineers weren't responsible - you, and your faith, you were responsible for the success of infrastructure. if you slipped for a moment, your whole family would be swept away under the ocean. and the problem is that it worked - no tunnel collapsed.

you once broke a coffee carafe and even though you didn't drink from it after, you worried that there had been some previous invisible micro-break that had made you drink glass particles. you stayed awake for 24 hours, constantly dreading each swallow, waiting to taste blood.

you hate being late, you worry about it. you go to grab literally just lunch with a friend - no pressure, no emergency - and you still park the car an hour early and just sit there scrolling on your phone aimlessly. maybe you just don't like surprises or change. you triple-check you locked the doors, and then go to bed, and then get up out of bed to check twice again.

a worrier. like a strange and dreadful bingo card, you collect weekly experiences. someone tells you that you're overthinking, that's 2 points. you have to physically turn around and go back in your house to check you unplugged everything, that's 1 point. spiraling about climate change or politics or the state of the world is a free space, that's basically every evening.

you worry you're being selfish and not a good person because how come you're worried about your dog's health and the itch in your eye when you know people who are really very ill or who have it worse or who are genuinely struggling. then you worry that you're being annoying by infantilizing them. then you worry that your priorities are wrong, that you should be infinitely more worried about the state of a dying planet.

you wanted to be a person, is all. you wanted to go through life in a softness, to hold the world gently and have it whisper past you. and instead you are a worrier. everything that touches you is hard and raw and sharp like diamonds.

#spilled ink #warm up #anxiety #this didn't turn out how i wanted :( #btw i have ocd and as most ppl w/ocd r happy 2 tell u: we have no idea where the anxiety stops #and the ocd begins #i developed ocd to keep my anxiety at bay. which meant that . when my ocd is bad. so is my anxiety

[hoonvrs]

CHILD OF DIVORCE — l. heeseung

PAIRING heeseung × fmr

DESC. yours and heeseungs breakup through the eyes of nishimura riki

GENRE angst, 3rd party perspective

WARNING mutual breakup, mention of parental issues, riki has attachment issues, he’s also irrational but aren’t we all

W. COUNT 0.8k

S. NOTES why did i have so much fun writing this

to say riki considered you and heeseung his parents was an understatement.

he boy genuinely believed you were. so it's safe to say that when his heeseung hyung ( read: dad ) came home to their apartment late to their weekly boys' night and dropped the news, he was devastated.

“me and y/n broke up.“

riki could feel his whole world collapse, suddenly feeling ten again when his parents sat him down to tell him that his mum and dad were getting a divorce and dad was going to be moving back to his old city.

in hindsight, he should’ve consoled his hyung who didn’t look like he had just broken it off with his girlfriend of four years and the woman everyone believed he’d marry one day. he should've gone up to him like a good friend and given him a few words of comfort — maybe even a hug.

but instead, he felt anger. it was selfish, but he couldn’t realise his irrationality over the splitting feeling in his chest, and heeseung's reaction — or lack thereof — didn’t help but wedge a nail in the crack and hammer it down.

he couldn’t make out what the rest of their friends were saying, feeling all his senses suddenly muffle, giving his emotions nowhere to go but out, “what do you mean you broke up.”

the room suddenly felt colder. all their friends stopped talking and froze their gazes on him. seeing sunghoon from his peripheral, sending him a questioning look, but his vision tunnelled on the eldest, who was still standing near the entrance. “you can’t just break up, not now.”

confusion settled on the elder's face, overtly not expecting this reaction from him, “what do you mean i can't? it's my relationship, and we both ended it.”

riki was starting to feel antagonised, seeing faces look back and forth between him and the other, so he stood up in an attempt to size himself up, refusing to see the irrationality of his point. he felt like heeseung was being inconsiderate by breaking up something riki relied on without thinking of the others who'd be affected outside of the relationship.

everyone in their friend group was aware of his abnormal attachments, evident in the shirt he refuses to throw away because it was his father's, even if the fabric had more holes than not, or the two sizes too big shoes his sister gifted him, insisting he would ‘grow into them’ and now yours and heeseung's relationship.

healthy relationships weren't the norm in his life growing up, so by default, riki was hostile and withdrawn towards you the first few times heeseung introduced you as his new girlfriend. reminding himself constantly at the back of his mind that all relationships must come to an end and with every problem heeseung brought home, he was convinced it was near.

however, he must have underestimated you. one year became two, then four, and riki had become accustomed to his life with you. finding himself excited every time you’d come over whenever he was around because you had always seemed to favour him slightly, giving him the best meat cuts whenever you’d eat out together, or saving him the corner of the brownie because you knew it was his favourite part.

maybe it was silly to let you grow a home into the hole in his heart that was carved by his mother, seeking maternal comforts from you and allowing you to become a constant in his life.

but then again, all relationships have an end but riki wasn’t ready to let this one go. “so what? that’s it? you’re just going to end it here after everything?”

“look, it was a mutual breakup. we both just don't feel the same as we did before, so we broke it off like adults. i wish her all the best, just not with me.”

the split started to spread throughout his whole body, feeling his knees start to weaken under the weight of his emotions. when he started to feel his throat clog up and his eyes start to burn, he quickly made his escape, pushing past his hyung making sure to knock their shoulder on his way out to show he wasn't happy with the new change.

he could hear them discussing what happened after slamming his bedroom door, the thin walls leaving no word left unheard, drilling each question into his mind.

maybe then he should’ve left and apologised for his outburst, but grief is a funny feeling.

even though the relationship wasn’t his and never was to begin with, riki had gotten too comfortable living vicariously through you, and now he wanted someone to take responsibility for feelings only he could be blamed for.

but that’s another thing about grief. there’s always someone you want to pin the blame on. someone who caused this emotion to spiral and settle at the pit of his stomach without anywhere else to go leaving it to make itself home in his body.

and it wasn’t going to be him.

perm taglist @mesopret @whoschr ​@haknom @shinsou-rii @redm4ri @lacimolela @llama-lyna @boyfhee @lazysmushi @flwoie @kocokookie @kyexvly @seongclb @dammit-jjk @flwrshee @produmads ​@teddywonss @aleiouvre @dneltrise @aleiouvre @nyxvrse @yohanabanana @whois-alexis @sngvhs @tinyegg @sserafimez @satsuri3su @yuemvi @chirokookie @idk-tbh777 @s00buwu

#saints works ( madewithlove. ) #enhanet #rmb this is fanfiction #so rikis parents here don’t reflect his parents irl #no beta we die like yang injang #riki is a bit weird but he’s so real #heeseung drabbles #heeseung fic #heeseung fanfic #heeseung fanfiction #heeseung reactions #heeseung imagines #heeseung x reader #riki drabbles #riki imagines #riki pov #heeseung angst #heeseung au #enhypen fic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen drabbles #enhypen imagine #niki reactions #niki pov #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #enhypen fanfic #enhypen ff #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios

[cozage]

Zoro, Sanji, Luffy, Law, and Ace with fem S/O with healing water powers. The catch is that whenever she uses those powers, she feels pain from the wounds she’s healing. And this isn’t a Devil Fruit ability. It’s sorta like water bending from Avatar.

A/N: I really debated on how to lay this one out, but I chose to have them find out about her power. If anyone wants a head canon follow up on how they act now that they know, send me an ask :) I maybe made this a bit too long, but those soft moments with each of these boys are my WEAKNESS. (Law may seem a little OOC but I truly believe that man gets tunnel vision when he sees you in pain)

Characters: F! reader x Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Law, Ace

Cw: blood, pain, injuries, angst, all those fun things. Sanji’s contains slight spoilers for WCI

Total word count: 6.3k

The Pain of Healing

Zoro

Word count: 1.2k

“It’s only five more minutes until my Haki returns.” Luffy says between pants, trying to catch his breath. 

“Then I have five minutes to help you. Sit down.” 

Luffy collapsed onto the ground at your command, and you examined his body as he slept. It didn’t look good. His body was riddled with scrapes, scratches, bruises, and he was bleeding out from his side. Several minor injuries could be more painful than large ones, but Luffy had a mix of both. The best thing to do would be to focus on the large ones first, and if you have energy left, fix the small stuff as well. 

You guided water out of your flask and started with the hole in his side. You were used to the pain that came with healing by now, but it still made you flinch every time you started. You had to grind your teeth together to keep from crying out, not wanting to wake Luffy. He needed rest, and you didn’t want him to see the repercussions of your decision to help heal him anyway. 

After five minutes, you’ve taken all of the major injuries away from his body, and you managed to take a few small ones away from him as well. You wipe the tears from your eyes before you shake him awake. 

“It’s time, Luffy. Wake up.” You put on the biggest fake smile you can muster before his eyes flick open. 

“Aw man, that was the best nap in my entire life! I feel amazing!” You stay seated as he stands up, your body too riddled with pain to move. 

“Go get them, Captain!” It hurts to even speak, but Luffy’s already up stretching, too hyped up to notice your exhaustion.

“Thanks for whatever you did to make me feel so great! Leave the rest to me!” Luffy calls back, bounding off to finish the fight. 

Once he’s out of sight, you fold your head into your hands and weep. The pain was immeasurable, and every time you helped Luffy recover, you don’t understand how he’s still alive. You sit there for a long time, crying until there are no tears left. And then you hear cheers from the village nearby, signifying Luffy has won and your work paid off. Knowing that you helped him win makes you feel a little better, and you need to see everyone again. 

You stand up, ready to go meet the rest of the crew, but your body seems to disagree with your movement. Your legs shake, and when you go to take a step, you can feel your body collapsing, falling to the ground. You brace for the impact of your worn body against the solid ground, too tired to do anything else.

It doesn’t come, though. Someone catches you as you stumble forward. Strong arms wrap around your back and your legs, scooping you up and pressing you into his bare chest. Zoro. 

“Easy.” His expression is stone as he stares at you, but you can see worry underneath. “You gonna tell me what the hell you just did to Luffy?” 

You avert your eyes from his gaze, running the tip of your finger along the scar on his chest. “I healed him.”

You can feel his body tense with your words. “That didn’t look like healing to me. And since when do you have a Devil fruit power anyway?”

You bite your lip nervously. Nobody had caught you healing someone before. It wasn’t something you flaunted, or even something you told people about. “It’s not a devil fruit power.”

“Woman, if you don’t tell me-” he breaks off mid sentence, and you look around for any sign of danger. But there’s nobody around besides the two of you. You risk a glance up at him, and you see his face is pained as he stares down at you with a form of understanding. “You took his pain from him, didn’t you?”

Your mouth falls open from shock. You’re not sure how Zoro was able to guess something so accurate after seeing your power one time. You nod, confirming his suspicions. “He’s got an incredibly high threshold for pain tolerance.” 

“How are you still alive?” Zoro shakes you a little when he asks the question, which causes you to groan in pain. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll be more gentle. Do you want to sit? Stand?”

The thought of being upright makes you dizzy. “Can you just keep holding me for now?”

He nods, and returns to questioning you about your mysterious power instead. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Yeah.” It hurt to talk honestly, but you didn’t want to tell Zoro that. 

“How often have you been doing this?”

“Only like three or four times for Luffy, I think.” You're certain it’s been more than that, but you can’t tell Zoro that right now. 

“Three or four times?? For Luffy?” You can feel him trying to figure out the meaning behind your cryptic words. 

“There’s been a few other people I’ve done it for too.”

“Have you done it for me?” He's scowling at you, like he already knows the answer you’re going to give and he's waiting to scold you for it. 

“Maybe once or twice,” you lie, and you feel your cheeks burning. He squints at you, and you know you’ve been caught in the lie. But he says nothing, he just readjusts you in his arms to hold you closer. 

He had been walking for a few minutes, and you had almost fallen asleep. He had managed to keep you mostly still while he walked through the destroyed city, and you were too tired to care if he was lost or not. “It’s a neat power,” he finally comments. “You gonna tell me more about it? Or do I need to keep asking questions?”

“Can I tell you later?” You mumble into his chest. Between the safety of Zoro’s arms, the warmth of the sun on your face, and the exhaustion that’s set in from all that pain, it's hard for you to stay conscious. 

Zoro doesn’t say anything for a few moments, and you struggle to stay awake while you wait for an answer. He was never one for mindless chit chat, but you could tell that something was on his mind, so you decide to indulge him.

“It’s not a devil fruit. I was born with it,” You start, and you feel a heavy weight lift off your shoulders with those few words.  You’re so relieved that you can finally tell someone about your secret now. “I was never supposed to let anyone see it being used. If the World Government knew…” You trail off, thinking of how the Navy would turn you into a weapon. You shutter at the thought, and continue on in your explanation. 

“The power isn’t perfect, though. I feel the pain of whoever or whatever I heal. It’s not permanent, but if it’s too much for my body to handle at the moment, I might die. I’m really not sure, I’ve never tried to heal a fatal wound before.”

Zoro is looking off into the distance with a faraway look in his eye. “Just like Kuma.”

“Who?”

“Back on Thriller Bark we met a Marine named Kuma,” Zoro begins to explain, and you focus all your energy into listening to him. “He took all of Luffy’s pain and told me if we wanted to save Luffy, I had to take his pain upon myself. It was just after his big battle with the warlord Moria, and the pain…” he trailed off, and you knew he was reliving the moment in his mind. 

“Does he know about your sacrifice?” 

Your question brings him back to reality, and he looks down at you. He chuckles at your question, and bends over to kiss your forehead. “Does he know about yours?”

Sanji

Some light spoilers for WCI arc

Word Count: 1.2k

You didn’t realize that your ability was keeping Sanji up at night. 

Anytime he had a cut, or a burn, or any other kind of injury, you waited for him to doze off before you pulled out some water and healed his hands. The injuries were never serious, and after a few times, you barely noticed the pain. 

You didn’t mind, and you knew how much your boyfriend valued his hands. It was your silent act of love to him, something you wanted to give him but could never tell him about. One morning after you healed a bad burn, you found him sitting up in bed, staring at his hands. 

“Is something wrong, Sanji dear?”

The cook was examining his hands thoroughly, flipping them over again and again. “I could’ve sworn I had a burn here yesterday.”

Your cheeks tinted at the thought of being found out. “Oh, well maybe you just have superhuman healing powers!” You laugh it off, trying your best to act natural. 

“Yeah, maybe…” You could tell something was bothering him, but he didn't say anything further. 

You caught him staring at his hands throughout the day, as if he was waiting for a bomb to explode. At dinner you noticed a particularly bad cut on the topside of his hand - a cut he must’ve gotten while chopping vegetables - and you made a note to heal it that night. 

He stayed awake later than usual that night, and he seemed more wound up with anxiety than normal. You peppered his face with a few kisses, trying to get him to relax some. 

“Sanji, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He sighed, pulling you into his chest and laying down to finally get some sleep. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

He fell asleep quickly with you pressed into him. His slow, even breaths signified he was finally unconscious, and you pulled out some water to cover his wound. It stung you a bit as his flesh stitched back together, and you let out a low hiss in pain, and you froze as Sanji stirred slightly in his sleep. This wound was deeper than his normal cuts and burns; he must’ve been really distracted when he hurt himself. He wasn’t usually so careless around knives, but you knew whatever was bothering him would be revealed when he was ready to talk to you about it.  

With his wound healed and Sanji’s breath returning to normal, you curled back into place against him, and fell deep into sleep.

You woke to a string of curses falling out of Sanji’s mouth, his body tight and tense against yours. 

“Hm? Sanji?” You rub the sleep from your eyes and open them to find him staring at his hands again. “Sanji, what’s wrong?”

“That’s impossible,” he mumbled, speaking mostly to himself. He looks panicked, staring down at the place where his cut was yesterday. “That’s not humanly possible.”

You feign innocence as you have in the past, but you can’t ignore the nervous look in his eyes. “What is it, Ji?”

“I had a cut here yesterday. It was deep.” His breathing quickened, and you could see that he was scared for some reason. “It couldn’t have healed overnight. It’s not…It can’t be…”

“I’m sure it’s just-”

“You don’t understand.” He cuts you off mid-sentence, something he’s never done before, and it takes you aback. He gets out of bed abruptly, his eyes never leaving his hand.

“Sanji?”

“I need to go. I need to get out of here.” He’s pacing the room now, his stress overflowing into the space between you. 

“Go where? Sanji, calm down. Talk to me-”

“I can’t be here! I can’t endanger you! Or anyone else, for that matter!” His face is contorted with such pain you’ve never seen before. You don’t know what’s going on with your boyfriend, but his reaction to such a small cut is starting to scare you.

You jump out of bed and stride over to him. When you reach him, you clasp his face between your hands, forcing his eyes away from his hands and up to your eyes. His eyes are wide with pure fear, and his breathing is rapid and shallow. You can feel his body shaking as you hold him. 

“Sanji.” You push down your own fear and speak to him in a soothing tone, trying to bring him back to you. “Talk to me.”

“I’m a monster, Y/N.” Tears fill his eyes, threatening to spill out as he speaks. “If my body is regenerating like this…I’m a threat to you all.”

“You’re not,” You whisper. “You’re not a monster, Sanji.” You stand on your tiptoes to try and kiss the space between his eyes, but he pulls away from you.

“You don’t know.” He backs away from you, fear returning to his eyes again. “I am a monster. And now that I’m-”

It’s your turn to cut him off now. “I healed you, Sanji.”

His brows furled in confusion, but his eyes looked less panicked now. “Wha..?”

“I have this power,” you explain. You walk back to the bedside table, gathering some water from a cup and suspending it in the air. “I can heal people with water. I’ve been healing your small injuries for a while now. I wanted to make your life easier, I swear. I’m sorry I kept it from you. I just…I wanted to help.”

You see him relax the more you explain your powers, which was not the reaction you were expecting. He watches you move the water through the air, and tears finally flow from his eyes. 

“Y/N-chan,” he sobs, running over to you, embracing you in a hug. He’s holding you tight, smothering you into his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why did you hide it?”

Your face burns against him, embarrassed that you had kept it from him for so long. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone, and I knew you wouldn’t want me hurting myself for you, but-”

“Hang on.” He pulls back from you, peering down at your face with a frown of concern. “You’re being hurt?”

“Just when I heal people,” you rush to explain, seeing his frown deepen. “I just feel the pain of the injuries I’m healing, it’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” he corrects, staring at you disapprovingly. “Promise me you won’t do it anymore.”

“Sanji-”

“Promise, Y/N.”

“No! Let me do this for you!” You’re pouting now, but you know Sanji won’t cave on this matter. You know he can’t let you hurt yourself at his expense. 

“I appreciate that you want to help,” he says sternly. You can hear the love in his voice as he speaks, and you know you’ll have to agree to his request.  “But there are other ways for you to help me without hurting yourself. Please-”

“Fine. Promise.” You give him a fake pout, but when he pulls you back into his chest and holds you tightly, you melt into him. “Are you sure you’re okay, Ji? You seemed scared earlier.”

“I’m fine, really.” He rests his chin on the top of your head, drawing in a long breath before he says more. “I just thought my past was coming back to haunt me again, that’s all.”

You all stand there for a long while, just enjoying eachothers closeness. You only break apart when you hear Luffy screaming for breakfast, and you give him one last kiss on each of his hands before you let him go. 

Luffy

Word Count: 1.1k

“Stay still, idiot.” You held Luffy down, looking at his wound in his foot. 

“I can’t! It hurrrtttssss!” 

“That’s what you get for wearing sandals in the jungle!” You could tell from the way the stick speared through his foot, Luffy wouldn’t be able to walk easily, and you still had another half mile before you made it back to the ship. 

You knew you weren’t supposed to heal people while they were conscious, but this was Luffy. He was the love of your life, and the Strawhats were your only family. If you couldn’t trust them, you deserved to be locked up anyway. 

You sighed, pulling water out of your flask in soft, flowing movements. Luffy was still writhing in pain on the ground, overdramatic in his reaction to his current impalement. It was possible that you might be able to heal him without him even realizing it. 

You surrounded his foot with an orb of water, and imagined the wound being stitched together, just like your mother had taught you. You saw his rubbery skin begin to mend together, and braced yourself for what came next. 

Your grip on Luffy’s ankle tightened when the pain came. It was sharp and fast, and it took the breath out of your lungs. You squeezed your eyes shut, but kept your focus on the wound and the pain that came with it. 

“Wooooahhhh!” You could hear Luffy’s sigh of amazement, and you knew he had caught you healing his wound. “That’s so cool! The hole is just closing up!!”

You didn’t speak, afraid that your voice would betray you. The last thing you wanted Luffy to know was that you were in pain because of the healing process. You could hear him freaking out about how cool it was that his injury was healing before his own eyes, but you did your best to ignore him and focus on the healing process. You kept your eyes closed the entire time, using the level of pain to guide how much longer you had to fix his injury. Finally, the pain dulled, and then disappeared. You dropped his foot and opened your eyes again, trying to ignore the lingering effects that your body was dealing with. 

Luffy was examining his foot closely, looking at it from all angles to see if there was any damage. He stood up, putting all of his weight back on his foot, and jumped up and down a few times. 

“It’s like brand new!” He shouted with glee. He came over to you and wrapped you in a hug. “You’re the best, Y/N!”

--

Over the next few weeks, Luffy offered up your services to others throughout the ship. You knew that Luffy was incapable of keeping secrets, and you had never explicitly asked him to keep that information to himself. You never minded healing your family though, and the injuries were always minor. Luffy sent Ussop to you when he got a burn on his hand, and Franky when he got a bad cut on his face. Chopper sent Zoro when he had a sprained wrist. It wasn’t until Nami came to you with a nasty cut on her shoulder that the secret of your healing was revealed. 

You smiled when she asked, and pulled water out to start the healing process. You coated the wound in a bubble of water, and clenched your jaw to prepare for the worst. 

You were aware of Nami’s eyes watching you. Everyone else watched their own wound magically heal, but her eyes remained on your face, watching for any signs of discomfort on your end. You had a feeling that she was suspicious of your powers already. She had been the most interested member of the crew from the start, asking about the stipulations and origins of your power from the moment she had found out about it. 

You kept your eyes on the gash, trying your best to mentally steel yourself for the pain that would come. You knew it wouldn’t be easy to hide the pain, but you were determined to make it look natural. When the feeling of pain ripped through your shoulder to match her wound, you gritted your teeth and kept your smile, but you could feel your muscles involuntarily twitch. 

If Nami noticed, she said nothing. When you finished, you looked back up at her and let out a shaky breath, smiling. She eyed you suspiciously, but thanked you politely and left you alone. Once the door swung shut, you collapsed back onto the couch you were on, desperately needing a nap after that performance. 

--

Luffy was awoken by a smack on the head. 

“What?” He asked groggily. “Are we at the next island?”

“Are you some kind of sadist,” the tangerine-haired girl scolded, shaking her finger at him. “Or are you just a moron?”

“What are you talking about, Nami?”

Nami rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, staring daggers down at Luffy. “Y/N’s power.”

Luffy rubbed his head, wondering if you could fix headaches. “What about it?”

“She feels pain when she heals people, you idiot. She probably feels whatever pain she’s healing.”

Luffy’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that she just healed my shoulder. And she was in some serious pain while she was doing it. She hides it well, but I could tell she was hurting.”

Luffy bit his lip, trying to think back to when you had healed him in the forest. But he had been so amazed at watching his own wound heal, he hadn’t noticed your reaction while you were doing it. 

“She seemed kind of tired after mine, but that’s it. I felt great though, so I carried her back to the ship!”

“So you are just a moron!” Nami punched him again. “No more free healing! Stop taking advantage of her!”

--

You woke up from your nap to rubber arms wrapped around you and Luffy’s round eyes staring at you intensely.

“Good morning,” you groan, trying to pull away from him to stretch. 

He let you go enough to stretch out, but kept a tight grip on you. “Does it hurt?”

You freeze mid-stretch, silently cursing Nami for her hyper awareness. “It just makes me tired.”

“You’re lying.” He knows you so well. You move your fingers up to his hair, twirling his locks around your index finger.

“Yeah,” you sigh the word out. You’re painfully aware of his gaze, transfixed on your face.

 “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because Luffy, it’s not that bad.” Your eyes move back to his finally, and you can see the hurt and confusion that is held within them. “And I like doing what I can to help my family.”

He nods, accepting that answer, and snuggles up into your chest, holding you tightly against him. You let him lay there for a while, twirling his soft strands of hair around in your fingers. There are few quiet moments between you and Luffy, and you cherish every moment you can get like this.

“Nami said no more free healings, by the way.”

You laugh and give his forehead a quick kiss. “Guess I’ll have to charge you double.”

Law

Word Count: 1.2k

“Fuck.”

Law’s breath was ragged as you pressed into his stomach wound. Blood coated your hands as you tried to stop the bleeding, but it didn’t seem to be working very well. 

“I just need to...” Law coughed, and you could see red staining his lips. A small blue orb began to form in his palm, but it flickered out quickly. He was too weak to use his devil fruit powers.

“Fuck.” You repeated. There was only one thing you could do now. It meant exposing your secret and showing your captain your biggest weakness, but you’d do anything to save him. 

You pulled away from his wound, and let your hands guide water from your flask, maneuvering it through the air. “Don’t freak out,” you say, and you cover the wound in water. You let it sit for a moment, and then begin imagining the wound healing. 

It started as a dull, throbbing pain in your stomach. You began to think you were getting used to the pain, but then it began to grow, turning sharp and stabbing. You flinched at the sudden change in pain, but held your focus. 

Law watched you work for a few moments with wide eyes, unsure what was happening or what he could do. You wanted to scream from the pain that was growing rapidly, but you held your tongue, hoping he didn’t notice your facial expressions contorting into pain. Tears filled your eyes, and you finally felt Law move into action, his hand gripping around your wrists. 

“Stop,” he demanded, trying to push your arms away from his wound. You ignore his demand, keeping your arms locked against him, continuing the healing process at your expense. 

“Stop! Y/N-ya, Stop it!” His voice rose in pitch, and you could tell he sensed your pain. His efforts to push you away are getting stronger, proof that his energy is returning to him. You feel relieved in the fact that he is healing, even if it is exhausting you in the process. 

He finally succeeds in pushing you off him, and you fall backwards to the ground and lay there, dazed and stunned from your work. He quickly straddles you and pins your arms to the ground to ensure you’ve fully stopped whatever you had started doing to him. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Law stares down at you, angry and scared of what you’ve done. 

You know his rage is out of fear, and you give him a small smile, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. “You okay now?”

He stares at you, baffled at your question. He has energy now, and his wound in his stomach is almost completely healed. He knows it’s due to you, but he doesn’t know how you’ve managed to heal him so quickly. Fear. Betrayal. Anger. So many emotions run through him all at once. He has so many questions that he doesn’t know where to start. 

He tightens his grip around your wrists, keeping you pinned down. “Explain.”

“It’s a power I was born with,” you say, closing your heavy eyes. “I can heal other people’s injuries through water.”

Law watches you carefully, certain that you’re hiding something. He squeezes your wrists tighter until you finally open your eyes again, looking anywhere but at him. 

You can’t make eye contact with him or you know you’ll tell him everything. You can’t afford for him to know your secret, it was bad enough that he knew this much. 

“You were in pain.” He says it as a statement, not a question.

You squirm from underneath him, trying to get free, but his grip doesn’t let up. He’s determined to get to the bottom of what you just did. He needs to protect you. He needs to keep you safe from all harm, even if that means protecting you from yourself. 

“Let go.” You say, still trying to get free. His grip is starting to become painful, and you try to pull your arms away from him again. “You’re hurting me, Law. Let go.”

His eyes stare down at you, unmoving from his current position. The more you squirm, the tighter his grip gets, and you know he won’t let go until he has an answer. “Y/n-ya, why were you in pain?”

“It’s a side effect!” You cry out in frustration, finally giving in. You suspect he knew the moment he saw it. “I feel the person’s pain as I heal them.”

In his shock, Law’s hands loosen their grip, and you finally pull free from him. You try to turn away from him, but he’s still sitting on your stomach, and you don’t have enough energy to push him off. You rub at your wrists, trying to get the sting from his grip out of your body.

Law is frozen, staring down at you with wide eyes. He grits his teeth, watching you massage your wrists. “I’m sorry,” he says, reaching for your hands again, more gentle this time. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

You let him grab one of your hands, and he begins massaging your wrists gently, whispering apologies to you. You close your eyes and try to forget that you’ve broken your number one rule about your power: telling other people. You focus on his wrist massage for a while, his own way to apologize for his outburst.

“Y/n-ya?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you save me?”

You sigh, opening your eyes again. This time, you meet his gold eyes, radiant against the sunlight. “You never want anyone to save you, Captain.”

“It’s my job as a ca-”

“I saved you because I love you, you idiot.”

You can see Law’s eyes twitch in surprise; his hands freeze against your wrist. 

“You don’t get to decide what sacrifices I make for you,” you continue. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do to save you. That’s my decision. You’ve made many sacrifices for me, some extremely painful ones. Remember the incident at Low Sand Creek?”

Law doesn’t respond, but he slowly starts to massage your wrists again, which you take as a sign to keep talking. 

“I don’t get to criticize your decisions on sacrifice. And you don’t get to criticize mine either. I love you, and I know you love me. Do I want you to risk your life for me? No. But that’s just something I have to live with. And so do you. Okay?”

Your captain says nothing, and you can tell he’s sulking over your lecture. It wasn’t uncommon for you to have to do this with him. Law was one of the smartest people you knew, but relationships weren’t really his strong suit. It resulted in you having to do a lot of explaining and voicing your needs.

“Law, do you understand?” You insist, needing to stand your ground. He had a tendency of not responding when he didn’t agree with something.  

He huffs out an irritated breath. “Okay.”

You scrunch your face at him, shooting him a semi-fake glare. 

“I understand, okay?!”

You twisted your hand to intertwine with his, and grabbed his other hand with your free one so that both of his hands were now holding each of yours. You locked eyes with him, and you could see there was something else there, something that was bothering him. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

He was quiet for a moment, as if he were working up the courage to admit whatever he was feeling. His eyes moved away from your gaze and focused on one of his hands instead, still intertwined with yours. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice comes out slightly choked, and you realize that you had forgotten to explain the most important part to him. 

Your cheeks redden, embarrassed at your oversight. His eyes snapped back to yours, and now it was your turn to avoid eye contact.  

“It’s… I was told to never tell anyone about it. Or let someone else see it.”

You can feel him staring at you, his eyes willing you to look at him, but you refuse. He waits patiently, and you know he’s asking you a silent question: Don’t you trust me?

“I trust you, I just…” Neither you or Law had really talked about your past much. You preferred to live for the now, for the future. The past was just too painful to think about. “People died protecting that secret. I didn’t want to add more names to that list.”

Law gave a dark chuckle at your response. “And after all that preaching about not deciding who gets to make sacrifices.”

Now it’s your turn to sulk. “That is not-“

He cuts you off, pulling you up to meet him, and his lips collide with yours. 

He pulls back briefly, basking in your beauty. “No more secrets. Promise?”

“Promise.” 

Ace

Word Count: 1.5k

Ace wasn’t used to being hit, and when someone made contact with him, it hurt. He grimaced as he limped from battle, blood dripping down his leg from the giant puncture wound in his thigh. You had your arm around him, helping him run, but his injury was slowing you both down, and the enemy was closing in quickly.

“Sit,” you commanded. “Let me help.”

“I just need to get back to Marco, he can help.” His breathing was labored, and you knew he was expending too much energy just speaking to you. 

“I can heal too.” You helped him sit down, and you could feel his eyes staring at you, trying to understand your cryptic words. You chose to ignore him for now, and examined the wound. It was deep, but manageable. You braced yourself, and summoned some water out of your flask, covered his wound, and focused on stitching it back together. 

Pain ripped through you, and you had to bite your lip to keep yourself focused. It wasn’t the worst pain you had felt, but the wound was deeper than you had initially thought, and you could feel your muscles tearing apart, just like Ace’s had when he was cut. You knew that it was just a phantom pain, no actual bodily harm was being done to you, but it was still pain nonetheless. 

You could feel tears pooling at the corner of your eyes, but you refused to stop until the job was done. You watched his muscle stitch back together, and when it was finally completely healed, you sat back and closed your eyes, exhausted and riddled with aches. 

When you opened your eyes again, you could see Ace in front of you, you could feel him shaking you violently. He was screaming something, but you couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying over the loud ringing in your ears. Slowly, your hearing returned, and you realized he was screaming your name. 

“Ace.” Your words were slow. You were still trying to come out of the fog of pain that always came with healing. “Stop shaking me.”

He finally stopped, but his hands were still tightly gripping your shoulders. He was staring at you in terror, fear spread across his face. 

“What were you doing?” His voice was loud and piercing, causing you to flinch. “How did you…What do…Where did…” He struggled to find the right words, and you stared at him with still-glazed eyes while he tried to form a sentence. You were struggling to refocus after the pain, and were thankful that Ace was tongue-tied for the moment. 

Ace took a breath, finally able to form a sentence. “I didn’t know you had a devil fruit power.”

“I don’t.” Normally you let people believe whatever they wanted in order to guard your secret, but this was Ace. If you couldn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust anyone. “It’s just an ability I was born with. I can heal people with water.”

Ace’s facial expressions had always been easy to read. Even in your dazed state, you watched as his concern turned to shock and then to confusion. You waited for the inevitable question to come, and it did. “If you’ve had this power, why haven’t you used it more often?” 

“I…” you hesitate. You didn’t want to tell him the weakness of your ability. Not because you didn’t trust him, but because you did. You knew that if Ace discovered the trade off of your powers, he would never want you to suffer for him or anyone else. 

You had told Marco about your power when you joined the crew, and the doctor had forbid you using your ability except in dire circumstances. Marco trusted you to make judgment calls on what you could handle, but you didn’t think Ace would feel the same way. 

You could hear the enemy's battle cries getting closer, and you take the opportunity to avoid the question. “Let’s go. We need to get back to the ship.”

Ace stands, and you follow to do the same. You take a bit longer to get to your feet, still light-headed from the trade off of healing Ace. His attention has shifted to the enemy pursuing you now, and thankfully he doesn’t seem to notice your sluggish movements. 

Ace’s fist becomes engulfed with flames, and he stands between the enemy and you. “Go back to the ship, I’ll hold them off.” 

“Idiot! That’s what got us here in the first place!” 

“Yeah,” He smirked back at you like the devilish fiend you knew he was. “But this time I won’t lose.”

You can feel your knees start to go weak, but you’re not sure if it’s from exhaustion or from the man in front of you. You hate to leave him, but you know you’ll only be a liability in this fight. With Ace’s energy replenished and the ability to fight in an open space, he’d finish off the enemy easily now. 

“You better not die.” Your words hang in the air, and you take off towards the Moby Dick. 

As soon as you got aboard the ship, you went straight to your room. You didn’t bother giving a report. Ace would do that when he returned. Sleep was what you needed now. 

—

You woke with arms wrapped around you tightly, and the warm body of Portgas D. Ace pressed against your back. You weren’t sure how long you had slept, but there was no longer any light coming in through the porthole in your room. You shifted, trying to get out of Ace’s grasp without waking up, but his strong arms tightened against you when you moved, keeping you close to him. 

For a long while you laid in the silence, unsure if Ace was asleep or awake. He wasn’t snoring like he normally did when he was asleep and he refused to let you move away from his grasp, but his breaths were even and he didn’t speak to you. You didn’t mind the quiet, your body was still exhausted from the fighting and the pain of healing today, and Ace’s warmth was almost therapeutic against your tired body.

“Your healing…” Ace's voice finally breaks the silence, making you tense from surprise. His voice was low and quiet in your ear. “It hurts you, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

You can hear the sadness in his voice, and you know that he’s figured it out. Whether he solved it on his own or if Marco told him, it didn’t matter now. You’ve always been a bad liar, and you could never bring yourself to lie to Ace anyway.

He squeezed you tighter, pulling you closer to him. There was another long pause, and you let him hold you while he processed everything. 

“How bad is it?” His voice is level, but you can hear it beginning to grow thick with tears. 

“It depends on what I heal. I just feel the pain of the injury.”

His forehead presses into the crook of your neck, and his breath becomes shallow and ragged. You can feel his emotions coursing through him, and all you want to do is comfort him. You squirm, trying to flip over so you see his face while you talk, but his iron tight grip refuses to let you move. 

“Ace,” you speak gently, your hands pulling at his arms, and his grip loosens just enough for you to turn over onto your other side. You’re laying face to face with him now, but his eyes are squeezed shut. His freckled cheeks are wet with tears, and your heart constricts seeing his sadness. 

You press your forehead against his, and use your free hand to brush some of his hair away from his face. You continue softly sweeping your fingers through his hair, soothing him as you speak. “It’s not so bad, Ace. But that's why I don’t use it very often.”

His eyes are still closed, but you feel his hands ball into fists against your back, gathering the fabric of your shirt in them.

“Why did you use it to save me then?” His voice comes out more of a demand than a question. It’s harsh, and you know he’s angry. Maybe at you, maybe at himself, probably both. His question makes you freeze, your fingers still entangled in his strands of hair. 

You feel a slight prick of irritation at his question. You pull your head back and tilt his face up to look you in the eyes, but they’re still tightly shut. “Look at me,” you demand, your tone matching his from a moment ago. You feel him stiffen slightly at the intensity of your words, but his dark eyes open to meet your own. 

Your hands find his cheeks, cupping his face, and you press your forehead back into his. Your eyes never leave his, and you can feel his grip against your back finally start to soften as he focuses on you instead of what you’ve done. 

“I did it.” You pause for a moment, still staring at him. God, he was so stupid. You swipe your thumb across his freckles, wiping the tears from his sad, sweet eyes. “Because you deserve to be saved.”

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro x y/n #zoro x reader #zoro x you #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #sanji x reader #monkey d. luffy #luffy #luffy x y/n #luffy x reader #luffy x you #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #law x y/n #law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x reader #portgas d ace #ace x y/n #ace x reader

[girlgenius1111]

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alexia is stressed upon return to the international stage after her knee issues. she has the most aggressive game of her life against you, and you end up injured. you're both not telling each other how much you're really struggling.

this contains a completely made up and illogical game, don't come at me

cw: contains descriptions of a panic attack

-----

Alexia was on edge, even more so than she had been when you'd left your shared apartment a week ago for England camp. She'd gone to Spain's camp, both of you preparing with your respective teams for the upcoming nations league matches.

Alexia was back from her persistent knee issues, with something to prove. You knew how your girlfriend's mind worked, and you knew she was putting a lot of emphasis on this game. It was why she'd been distant the past week, why she was avoiding eye contact with you as you both stood in the tunnel, preparing to go out onto the pitch.

You hadn't mentioned your own problems when you'd spoken briefly to her over the phone. They seemed inconsequential compared to hers. You were exhausted, incredibly stressed, and you felt like responsibility for the whole team rested on your shoulders, what with Millie and Leah both out. You and Mary had stepped up, and the weight of trying to live up to your captains' was crushing. Alexia did this all the time, though, you reminded yourself. There was nothing to complain about. Once this game was over, she would relax, and so would you.

As you walked out onto the pitch, you ignored the pang of hurt when Alexia didn't even glance her way. It was time to play, time to win, not time to worry about your girlfriend ignoring you. Soon, though, you were worried not just for her, but for everyone else on the pitch. Alexia was playing aggressively, and for the most part it was paying off for her. The ref was being incredibly inconsistent with calling fouls and giving cards, something Alexia was taking advantage of. After she practically shoved Tooney to the ground on a corner, you spoke up, annoyed with how reckless she was acting.

"Cool it, Alexia. You're gonna hurt someone." You said quietly, as you briefly jogged past her. She just looked at you, mouth still pressed into a hard line, barely acknowledging that you'd spoken. You sighed, knowing it was just a matter of time before she was the reason someone had to go off.

You didn't expect it to be you. In Alexia's defense, it was a mostly clean tackle. She caught your ankle, yes, but she had touched the ball first, making it clean. Your ankle crumpled under you, though, and you collapsed to the pitch in crumpled heap with a cry of pain. Alexia stood, looking down at you, horrified, as if only now just realizing the consequences of your actions.

She was shoved out of the way by your teammates, who quickly made their way to your side. She didn't go far, though, looking on, distraught, as your teammates called out for the physios, and you writhed on the ground in agony.

They appeared, asking you questions, and Alexia thought she was going to throw up when they called for a stretcher. How had she done that to you? What was wrong with her?

She stepped closer, hesitantly, trying to get your attention, whether to apologize or beg for forgiveness, she wasn't sure.

"Amor," she asked quietly. Your eyes flew to her above you, and your gaze hardened.

"No, Alexia. Go away." You said through gritted teeth.

"Okay. Lo siento, amor. Lo lamento." she said, backing up and chewing insistently on the side of her cheek. The stretcher arrived, and they got you on it. Every sound you made, every groan of pain, felt like Alexia's heart was being ripped out of her chest. She felt an arm on her shoulder, and turned to find Irene standing behind her.

"Go off, Ale, go with her. We're up anyway." It was true, Spain was winning, and there wasn't much time left. Her departure from the game likely wouldn't cause the team any issues. Still, she shook her head. You were being lifted up, carried off the field now. Alexia wanted to rush forward, wipe the tears off your face, kiss the grimace off your lips.

"No, she doesn't want me right now. I fucked up." Alexia choked out. Irene sighed, not really blaming you. Alexia had been playing like a crazy person today, like she had something to prove.

"Go anyway. You get her to forgive you by proving that you're sorry. So go." Irene insisted, and Alexia paused, before nodding and heading to the sidelines. She was subbed off, and she headed into the tunnel after you. She turned towards England's side, not quite sure how to find you. Luckily, Leah was standing in the hall, talking to a member of the staff. Alexia cleared her throat, and Leah turned towards her, clearly trying to keep her expression neutral.

"Where is she?" Alexia rasped.

"Hospital." Leah responded, voice hard.

Alexia sighed, a few tears escaping against her will. She normally would never, not ever, let an opponent see her cry. When it came to you, though, it was like she had no control over herself. Leah softened slightly at the sight.

"Come on, I'll drive you." The match was in London, and Alexia was glad she didn't have to wait an unknown amount of time to get to you.

"I do not think she wants to see me." Alexia admitted, despite following Leah towards the exit of the building.

Leah rolled her eyes. "All she's wanted for the past week is you, Putellas. And instead of giving her that, you break her ankle."

"What do you mean? She wanted me?" Alexia questioned, confused. You'd seemed okay with the distance she'd imposed on you, telling her you understood that she needed to focus.

They arrived at Leah's car, climbing in, and Leah began driving before she responded.

"She's having a hard time. She has this stupid idea that she needs to be just like Millie, or me, instead of being herself, which is why she was chosen to lead. She's stressed and exhausted, not to mention worried about you and your return. She needed her girlfriend, Putellas. More than anything."

The midfielder felt the last of her strength crumble, and she spent the rest of the car ride silently wiping away the tears that ran down her face. She would fix it, she promised herself. She'd do anything to fix it.

-----

Alexia wasn't at the hospital long. You'd asked Leah not to bring her to your room, and send her back to your apartment with your key instead. Your ankle was broken, it turned out. You were in a boot, on crutches, and miserable, that much Alexia knew. If you were furious with her, or just marginally angry, she didn't know.

She showered quickly, throwing on some of your clothes as she left her bag at the hotel the team was staying at, before settling on the couch, knee bouncing nervously. She wished the apartment was a mess or something, so she could clean it, but it was spotless. She'd already ordered dinner from your favorite restaurant, so she didn't need to cook. Leah texted her when they were downstairs, and she tried to swallow her anxiety as she heard the door open.

You hobbled in, Leah following with your bag. Alexia stood, taking a hesitant step towards you. You didn't even really look at her, crutching by her to sit on the couch. You threw your crutches to the ground, and put your head in your hands, the emotions of the day finally catching up to you. Leah placed your bag down carefully, shooting Alexia a glare, before she kissed the top of your head.

"Call if you need me, okay?"

"Okay," came your response, muffled by your hands.

Alexia moved your crutches to sit against the couch, before taking a seat on the coffee table in front of you.

"Amor, I am so so sorry."

"It was a clean tackle Alexia, don't apologize." You reply, voice emotionless. Your girlfriend shifted uncomfortably.

"I am still sorry. And I am sorry I was not available this week. I should have talked to you more."

"It's fine."

"You are not mad at me?" Alexia wondered. At this, you finally lifted your head out of your hands, looking at your girlfriend with bloodshot eyes, and a flushed face.

"I am mad. I just don't have the energy to be angry with you right now. I'm too exhausted, my ankle fucking kills, and I've missed you too much. It's pathetic." You cry, reaching a hand out towards the blonde. She doesn't waste a second, taking your hand in hers and pressing a few kisses into the back of it.

"It is not pathetic, amor. You need me, that is okay. You can yell tomorrow."

"I needed you all week," you say quietly, and her grip on your hand tightens.

"I know, amor, and I should have known that, and been there for you. I am here now, though, and I am not going anywhere. Not until you are better."

You looked at her through long, wet, lashes. "Promise?" you asked, voice cracking on the word.

"I promise, mi amor, I promise." Alexia assured you. You pulled on her hand, and she shifted onto the couch, bringing you into her lap, minding your ankle. You collapsed into her, face finding it's favorite spot nestled against her neck. You were getting her skin wet with tears, but she didn't seem to care. In fact, she seemed content to sit there with you until you felt better, no matter how long that took. You pulled away before you really felt much better, though.

"Where are you going?" Alexia asked with a slight pout.

"My ankle hurts," You admit, watching as her expression falls into one of immense guilt. She eases you off of her, back onto the couch, instructing you to stretch your legs out.

"Can I?" She asks quietly, hands hovering over the straps on the boot. It was a test, you knew, to see how angry with her you were, deep down. If you trusted her to take care of your injury or not.

"Be gentle." You ask quietly, and she sighs in relief, nodding. Alexia begins to unstrap the boot, lifting the front piece off before sliding it down and off your foot. You winced, the slight movement sending waves of pain up your leg that made you feel sick. Alexia dropped the boot onto the ground, watching carefully as you shut your eyes, willing the pain away. When you opened them, you noticed that Alexia was trying to discreetly wipe a tear away.

"Hey, what is it?" You ask, concerned, grabbing her hand before she could leave the room.

Alexia scoffs, but sits back down. "I broke your ankle. You are in pain because of me."

"Alexia, it was a clean tackle. I'm not mad that about it. It could have been anyone. I'm mad that you were playing like you wanted to get a red card, putting yourself and my teammates in danger." You explain.

"You are not mad about the tackle?" She asked incredulously.

"No, that would be stupid, that was practically your one clean tackle of the game. I'd like to talk about why you were playing like that, though." Alexia wasn't one to play super rough, and you knew that it was likely a result of some issue she was having. It was hard for you to get her to tell you what was going on in her head.

Alexia is quiet for a minute, working out her rather complex feelings of guilt at the moment. If you weren't angry about that, should she feel so furious with herself? The way she'd played was a whole other issue.

"Can we talk about it tomorrow? I want... I want to just be with you tonight. Take care of my girl." Alexia asked. You softened at her request, opening your arms, and gesturing for her to move closer. She leaned forward holding tight to you, inhaling your comforting scent. You were with her, and you were okay. That was all that mattered to her.

"Of course, baby." You murmured, kissing her temple lightly.

And take care of you, she did. She brought you dinner once it was delivered, and carried you into the shower, holding you up the entire time whilst you bathed and washed your hair, even though she'd already showered. She helped you into your pajamas, before getting your ankle propped up on a pillow, wrapped in an ice pack while you reclined on the bed. She stood anxiously next to your side of the bed, looking around as if searching for something else to do.

"Love, come get in bed." You told her, and Alexia focused on you.

"You do not need anything else?" She checked.

"Just you, pretty girl." You said sweetly. Alexia felt her cheeks heat up at that, and moved around to the other side to the bed. Before really getting to know Alexia, you would not have thought her to be a shy person. She was, though, shying away from any attention you tried to give her at first. Eventually, she got used to it, but she still felt her face flush with pleasure when you called her things like that.

Alexia climbed into bed, curling up into your side easily. She looked tired up close, almost as tired as you felt, and you leaned down, pressing your lips to hers. She sighed into the kiss, finally relaxing. When you pulled away, you couldn't help but notice the way her lips tugged down slightly, as if she was fighting a sad frown.

"What is it Ale?" You asked, running your thumb across her cheek.

"I am just tired. And sorry for hurting you, and ignoring you all week. And stressed about my return and my performance. My brain will not turn off. I am so tired, amor." Alexia said, eyes fluttering closed when your hand cupped her cheek.

"That is a lot of things to be worried about, Ale. I've forgiven you. I'm pretty sure I won't even yell at you tomorrow," Alexia smiles slightly at this. "Push all that out of your head. You're here with me, and everything is going to feel better in the morning. Sleep now, my love."

"Thank you. Te amo." She whispers in response, snuggling in closer to your side.

"I love you." You tell her, letting the feeling of her chest rising and falling against you lull you to sleep.

-----

You're rather unfortunately awoken a few hours later by a gasp, and Alexia stumbling out of bed and into the bathroom. You sit bolt upright, confused, watching from the bed as she grips the counter in her hands, breath ragged.

"Alexia?" you call out. You'd get up, but your ankle protests when you try to shift it off the pillow, so you stop moving, waiting for her to answer you. She doesn't acknowledge that you've spoken. She's speaking quietly to herself, eyes squeezed shut, and you strain your ears to hear her.

"Estás bien, estás bien," she repeats, white knuckled grip on the counter looking painful.

"Alexia," you say again, louder this time.

"Okay, amor, I... I am okay," she gasps out. She's having a panic attack, you realize. In all your time with her, you'd never known her to experience this before, and this realization is enough for you to grit your teeth, and try to get to her. You've swung your leg off the bed, biting your lip to keep from crying out, and grabbed for your crutches when she speaks again.

"St-stay there. No te levantes" Alexia says, switching rapidly between english and spanish.

"Come here then, please baby. Before I drag my ankle over there." You plead.

"No puedo," she whimpers, hand coming up to tug at the neck of her shirt, as if it's restricting her breathing. She's not moving anytime soon, and she looks like she's about to pass out if she doesn't get her breathing under control soon.

You curse under your breath, standing up and wobbly moving towards the bathroom. You make it to her, the blood rushing into your ankle once you stand, but you don't really feel it. The adrenaline has taken over, and your only though is helping your girlfriend.

"No-no puedo respirar," she gasps, eyes opening to find you in front of her. "No se que pasa, ayúdame," she pleads, gripping your shirt in her hand.

"Oh, baby," you coo, taking her hand in yours, and pressing it to your chest. "With me, love, you're okay."

She shakes her head frantically, gasping for air at this point.

"No puedo," she says again, before she pulls her hand away from yours, and begins tugging at her shirt again. "Lo necesito apagado, por favor," she cries.

Frustrated with your lack of mobility, and your shaky balance, you discard your crutches, and pull yourself up to sit on the counter. It's not much more comfortable, but you don't have to balance on one foot, and you can't help Alexia with your hands preoccupied with holding your crutches.

You help her pull her shirt over her head, leaving her in just a sports bra. She seems even more frustrated when that doesn't seem to help, and the tears are falling down her face fast, as her mouth flops open and closed as she tries to breath.

"Alexia," you say sternly, grabbing her face in between your hands. Her wild eyes meet yours, and you guide her closer, until she is standing in between your legs. "You're having a panic attack. You need to let yourself breath. Do it with me, okay?" Alexia's eyes are wide and glistening as she allows you to take her hand again, and press it back over your heart. Her breaths are choppy as she tries to match them with yours.

"There you go, Ale, you're doing good," you encourage, as her inhales begin to match yours more. You keep a tight hold on her hand until her breathing is almost normal. But as her hyperventilating ends, more tears replace it. "Alexia," you sigh, pulling her in. You hate seeing her so upset. You'd do anything to take it away, even if just for a minute. Her chin rests on your shoulder as she sniffles occasionally. You rub her back softly, giving her the time she needs to calm down. She jumps back suddenly, though, looking panicked again.

"Your ankle," she says, looking frantically between the swollen limb and your eyes.

"Shh, I'm okay, come back," you tell her, and she moves back into your arms, despite her protests.

"But amor, this is not-" Alexia's voice is weak and choked.

"Don't worry about it Alexia, seriously." You kiss her forehead, then her temple, before guiding her head back onto your shoulder. She relents, body falling almost limp against you. You're both quiet, the only sounds audible being both of your breathing. You bring a hand up to the nape of Alexia's neck, threading your hand through the hair there, and and holding her tightly against you.

You don't know how long the two of you sit there. Long enough for you to feel the pain in your ankle again, dangling off the counter. It was throbbing, hot and painful, under you. You don't want to let Alexia go before she's ready, so you try to bring you leg up, and rest in on the counter. At your movement, though, Alexia pulls away, pursing her lips as she looks at your ankle.

"Ale, it's fine," you try, but she ignores you. She's still unsteady, hands shaking as she grabs your crutches off the ground where she'd dropped them, and handing them to you.

"Bed?" she asks quietly, and you nod. She follows you back to the bed, a slow process, waiting until your sitting down before leaving the room without another word. You call after her, but she doesn't respond. You're just about to get up, and go after her, again, when she returns, ice pack in her still shaking hand. Regardless, she wraps it around your ankle, before climbing back into bed next to you. Her head finds it's place against your chest.

"What happened, love?" you ask. You feel Alexia's shoulder shrug. "No, come on. Talk to me, please."

"I was anxious when I fell asleep, and when I woke up, I could not breath. I think I had a dream, I did my other knee, and they told me I would not play again." The blonde's voice shakes as she speaks.

"That's awful, love." You murmur into her hair.

"I am sorry I woke you, and that you had to help me," she says weakly.

"Don't be. I'm glad I could help," you promise. "Have you ever had a panic attack before?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

"No."

"Alexia, I think you should talk to someone." You suggest, also pretty sure you know what her response will be.

"Maybe," she says noncommittally.

You sigh. "You at least need to talk to me more, Alexia. You can't just shut down when you're having a hard time, you need to let me help."

"I need to talk to you more?" she asks, turning her head to look up at you, voice a little stronger now. "You need to talk to me too then. You were upset all week and I did not know about it." She says it like she's got you. You surprise her, then, when you nod.

"You're right. We both need to talk to each other more. I know it's not easy, but I'm here, whatever you need, whenever you need me. Okay?"

"Te prometo que." Alexia says after a minute, gazing up at you. You can tell she means it. "You promise too?"

"I promise, Alexia."

Neither of you are perfect, or would ever claim to be. You are, however, perfect for each other. Exactly what the other needs. You know you'll get through anything with Ale with you, at your side.

-----

i love angst. that is all. goodnight.

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

[peachesofteal]

soap x cypher masterlist / 18+ mdni / dark and twisty themes overall but this is very soft / inspired by and written for @eilidh-eternal

Johnny is fuming.

You've skipped his lab. Not only have you skipped his lab, but you didn't even let him know. Where are you? He hasn’t even see you in days, getting in late from an op last night, collapsing into bed exhausted. All he wanted was to see your face this morning, peering at him from between the sea of students.

"Sir?"

"What?" He snaps, temper flaring, irritation running hot. The student, a transfer bomb tech from another unit, gulps. Get yerself together, he seethes. Ye're acting like a bloody fool. The tech voices a question, a complicated technical one, but easy to answer, and he rattles off a response before excusing everyone for the day.

He has more important things that need his attention.

He goes back and forth on punishment as he stalks over to the tech building. Overstimulation? Should he tie you to his bed and strap the head of a vibrator to your clit until you're crying? Denial? Humiliation? Should he shave your cunt, and then eat you out for hours, not letting you come once? Should he spank you until your ass is raw and you can't sit for a week?

Anger turns to worry when he steps onto your floor, and doesn't find you. You're not at your console. You're not in the bathrooms, or the break room. You're not anywhere.

He marches to Laswell's office, knocking twice before pushing the door wide, to her surprise.

"Soap?"

"Cypher not in today?" He skips the pleasantries, and she gives him a knowing look.

'She's out sick." Sick? You're sick? His mind is already scrambling, and he barely hears her parting words as he makes for the door, anger draining from his body and being replaced with worry, fear. Why didn't you tell him?

He gets his answer easily enough when you answer his incessant knocking with both wrists in braces, KT tape stretched from the back of your hands to your knuckles. Your face is twisted up, brow furrowed, and he immediately steps forward, hesitant to touch you, but yearning to provide you comfort, to help. To fix.

“Oh, Cy.” He murmurs and you look down to your feet.

“‘m sorry I missed class, I couldn’t… I can’t type, or pick anything up, so-“

“It’s okay. Let’s not worry about that now.” He herds you gently, turning you back into your room, relaxing as he feels you lean into him, one of his hands cradling yours carefully. “Carpal tunnel?” He knows all about it, of course. He has your medical file memorized. Knows about the flare ups that are really bad, knows you’re a perfect candidate for surgery, even though from the looks of it, you’re avoiding that option. He always thought he’d cross that bridge when he came to it, getting you to have the procedures scheduled, but it seems like that bridge is coming up now.

“It’s bad.” You croak. You can’t even work the door handle, trying in vain to flex your fingers, his heart sinking at the agony on your face, when you start to crumple, tears starting in the corners of your eyes.

“Shhh, I’m here, I’m here, wee sweet.” His arms wrap around you, holding you there for a second, rubbing your back, your shoulders, trying to reassure you. “I’ll take care of ye.” He promises, shutting the door with a firm click, and leading you over to your bed, encouraging you to sit, keeping his touch as gentle as he can, as to not jostle you or your hands. “What do ye need?” He smooths a hand over your hair, and you sigh.

“Something to eat.” Oh, sweet Cy. How long have ye felt like this? This is his fault. He should have been here last night. “And some ice, maybe?”

“Have ye taken anything?” He’s already pulling out his phone, shooting a text out to cash in on a favor owed to him by another Sergeant, essentially using them as a delivery service for your needs. “What sounds good to eat?”

“I don’t know, I can’t pick up-“

“I’ll take care of that.” He’s unmoored by your suffering, but a select piece of him is secretly delighted he’ll get to feed you, wash your hair, help you with your clothes, take care of all your needs. His mouth practically waters. You chew on your lip, wincing as you shift and he moves with you, encouraging you to lay down your back, tired eyes blinking up at the ceiling. Poor baby, probably hasnae sleep a wink. “I’ll pick for ye, Cy.”

“Okay.” You whisper, eyes slipping closed. He leans, lips dotting across your forehead.

“I’ve got ye. Want the lights off?” You nod, and he gets up to flick them off, clicking on the little bedside lamp that has the yellow shade, the dim one that you like “Whit feels good for yer hands? Ice? Elevation?”

“Both.” He tacks ice onto the ‘to be delivered list’ and then grabs a pillow, tucking it into your side to place your one wrist on top, arranging your giant quilt on the other to do the same.

He fusses over you, making sure you’re comfortable, making sure you’re content, propping you up on more pillows when everything is dropped at your door, and he stashes the ice in the freezer for after he feeds you.

“Got some soup.” He tells you sweetly, and you brighten a little.

“What kind?”

“Yer favorite. The cream of mushroom.” You smile at him and he holds you there, indulging in your sweet expression, until it starts to fade, drooping with realization. Confusion.

“Wait… how do you know it’s my favorite?”

#peaches writes #soap x cypher #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish

[sldlovescartoons]

Just a thought, Essek and Yasha would definitely have some wild-ass conversations about food. Once he got a bit more comfortable and started to get more open to sharing, they would find out that the drow had a lot of opinions about food. Because Essek is a fancy elf, but he’s also a drow who lives in the sundered wastes of the God War. The others think what Yasha eats is weird, but Essek thinks HOW she eats/prepares it is weird. Because the dark elves just refine under dark/wastes ingredients into fancy foods.

“Lights sake, at least fry them first.” Essek says after watching Yasha eat a cricket she just picked up out of the grass before realizing what he said, how much of a dick he sounded like, apologizing, and promptly throwing himself into dissociation for 30 minutes.

They prepare giant spider legs like they WANT to get poisoned. They need to be throughly washed and cooked at VERY high temperatures, you absolute maniac.

The Nein are worried that the two are going to actually come to blows over the proper ways to prepare Rat, and Yasha is insisting on grilling and barbecue and Essek is offended because “When I was 44 the tunnel to our hunting grounds collapsed and the chefs had to supplement all the meats they got from the Underdark with livestock and lots of Rat. They found dozens of ways to cook rat that year, and you have listed none of them! Not even a mention of any cranberry and date fillings- absurd-“

And like everyone is glad Essek’s opening up and they don’t want to put a damper on it but Yasha is actually going to kill him. But they also have no idea how to even approach these conversations at all because they have no stake the Great Fried Cricket Debate.

#critical role #cr2 #cr2 meta #essek thelyss #yasha nydoorin #the mighty nein #ramble #I love them so much

[soapoet]

How do they express jealousy?

requested by anon.

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Shufflemancy: Gives you hell by All-American rejects

You might not expect this person to be as vulnerable and sensitive as they are. They appear very sure of themselves, may even have quite an intimidating presence, and don't let their emotions show externally. Until they are behind closed doors with their trusted allies, that is. When it is safe for them to break, they collapse. Jealousy is a feeling they are well acquainted with, and theirs is a battle between life and death. They hold trust and loyalty in high regard, and any slight against it done on purpose is met with an instantaneous crumbling of the tower where they keep and guard their beloved. They grow suspicious and anxious, and can delude themselves in finding enemies everywhere.

They grow resentful and begin a horrid cycle festering resentment and desperation to not lose their partner. They love you, they hate you, they deserve better, they deserve to suffer. And so it goes, round and round, and the wound is one only time can heal, but the scar will mark them forever. They can forgive, but never forget. Even if disaster is avoided and things go back to normal, the betrayal will forever haunt them and any future hiccup will make them suspicious or immediately be brought back to the past, and they will succumb to the fear of abandonment once more.

Without purposeful attempts to make them jealous, they are still akin a wolf guarding their territory. They keep a watchful eye for any potential threats and hold their partner extra close or go out of their way to showcase their commitment to their partner and their partner's commitment to them, often whilst staring threats dead in the eyes as an intimidation tactic and a way to silently yell "back off". I would sincerely advise everyone to never play games with their partners, but especially this one, as they've known the pain of neglect and betrayal closely throughout their life, and have unhealed wounds all across their aching heart and the damage you could do would never again heal and the commitment would bleed out to its inevitable end without mercy.

02.

Shufflemancy: Lost on you by LP

This person has a rather straightforward relationship with jealousy. Though they do not easily fall prey to it, if caught, they tend to spiral into a desperate act of self-improvement. Convinced that their tinge of jealousy is evidence of lack in them, they raise the standards they hold for themselves to even greater heights. Tunnel vision keeps them from seeing anything clearly and they hyper focus on their attempts to measure up to the perceived bar suddenly raised out of their reach. Because to them, jealousy so easily means they are not good enough, and as somebody already at war with perfection, they do not take it lightly.

Whether their jealousy is triggered on purpose or arise naturally, they instantly find themselves at a crossroads, and must choose which way to go. The strict duality of their mind in these situations keeps them from seeing the path which lies between the two, and they only debate between proving their worth or accepting defeat, wiping their tears as they take the road which strays from the one aligned with their partner.

They can appear quite cold when they simply choose to give up, as though the river of love suddenly runs dry and they decide that it, to them, is objectively the best to cut you or them loose when the two of you are hanging off a cliff and either one of you must let go. Even if they are upset they remain calm on the surface and do what they think is right. Behind them may lie many shipwrecks they abandoned when the leak appeared much too difficult to mend.

03.

Shufflemancy: Sinner by Trevi Moran

Oh boy. They will not openly admit to jealousy, but will meticulously eradicate any threat as though they're pest control. Few things get under their skin as they are at least outwardly very secure in their own self-worth and simply dish out stupid prizes to those who dare play stupid games. For some, however, I must say that they may actually hold themselves in this high regard and play the role of somebody big and strong as a ruse because they deeply fear the fall from their throne.

They could easily flip the script or rewrite it on the spot, altering the play in their favour. When slighted they quickly make sure the whole audience gets on their side and point and laugh at whoever triggered jealousy in them, now the villain of the tale they get to tell. Depending on how delicate the situation is they may instead move in the shadows and whisper in enough ears and shake enough hands to assure the eventual downfall and demise of whoever dared challenge them and their partnership.

I won't lie, for some of you I'd advise that you err on the side of caution because this can easily become toxic. They're very protective and may worship you and keep you safe from the wolves, but some can easily slip into maddening possessiveness, which is unhealthy. Their jealousy, although kept under lock and key, shows itself in a very cold, unaffected way which can be quite jarring to witness as their eyes feel hallow and suddenly speak to you as though you're a complete stranger. The worst of them may very well have angry outbursts when pushed too far and I hope you know you deserve better than that.

04.

Shufflemancy: Fred Astaire by Ghost the jukebox

This sure is somebody you may even feel outright compelled to attempt to make jealous, because they appear so unbothered and nonchalant as though they have no care in the world. And that is the truth of the matter, because from their perspective you are either commited to them, or you're not. They trust their partner to not play with them or allow any advances from others, and if that trust is broken then c'est la vie.

For some, this apparent lack of jealousy altogether can mean that they are open to non-monogamy, whether or not they themselves are interested in opening the relationship for their own sake. As an example, they could be open to their partner seeking fulfillment of needs they cannot tend to themselves. They are a good communicator and live by and follow whichever boundaries and rules have been set in their relationship and may be open to change should their partner have any suggestions. I wouldn't really fear unfaithfulness with this person solely due to how easy-going yet frank and honest they are.

If anything, instead of jealousy this person could quite literally suggest you chat somebody up, and their inquiries about other people some would be concerned about seem genuinely curious and are without malice or suspicion. They're trusting, though some of their loved ones may call them naive and wonder when the day will come that they get hurt as they don't quite understand this person's simple views. It's reminiscent of the time Aladdin said "do you trust me?" because to this person you or they either do or don't and that's that.

05.

Shufflemancy: Style by Taylor Swift

This person seems to have very little to worry about and seem sure in their own worth. So much so, in fact, that they may use jealousy as fuel for passion. They could feel excited and amused by jealousy as though it is a challenge for them demanding they rise to the occasion and prove just how worthy they are and claim their partner as theirs time and time again so that they may never stray.

They tread cautiously the fine line between playful and damaging, pushing the envelope in search of the sweet spot that triggers just enough anger to provide some friction. One need not worry much of their true intentions as there appears to be a permanent glint in their eyes full of lighthearted mischief as they simply desire for you as their partner to show them that desire earnestly, just the same as they do for you when you too decide to play little games to see the chemical reaction which follows.

It really does take outright betrayal for them to reach damaging levels of jealousy, at which point they don't go out quietly and make sure their feelings are known. Just to be sure the two of you are simply playing, they may inquire more candidly about the people around you or openly question their intentions, as though they are so very playful and appreciate the fun and games they are also a little territorial and need it known by all that the two of you are spoken for.

06.

Shufflemancy: Vampire by Olivia Rodrigo

Easily distraught, this person sinks fast and deep to the very bottom of the depths of agony when they feel jealous. They struggle with their worth and have an intense fear of abandonment which leads them down dark paths in their mind as they begin a search of how or why they do or do not deserve love and commitment. There in the depths of their undoing they easily come to find that rock bottom has a basement, which they crawl into to hide away in the assumption that what is theirs will be taken away and if what is theirs is going at their own accord they must then be flawed and wholly unworthy after all.

Their primary means of showing their jealousy is withdrawal, as they have trouble voicing these vulnerable feelings or may simply not know the right words to use to express themselves clearly. They may even fear that expressing jealousy will only make matters worse or invite retaliation of some kind, and thus say nothing at all, which invites resentment to fester.

Jealousy mortally wounds them, and I'd never encourage anybody to play games with people to begin with, but certainly not somebody so frail and fearful. This is somebody who would step in front of bullets for their loved ones, so any chance that those same people, and especially you, their partner, would in essence be the one to pull the trigger would truly destroy them.

#pac reading #energy reading #intuitive reading #tarot reading #love pac #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a picture #tarotblr #soapy.post

[ckret2]

Chapter 45 of human Bill Cipher would give anything to be trapped in the Mystery Shack again; The Eclipse, part 3.

Whatever's making gravity disappear in Gravity Falls is accelerating; Bill continues to insist he knows exactly what it is but won't say what; Ford's getting pretty fed up with him; and poor Dipper's just got to put up with them.

Oh, and totality arrives.

Bill woke up before full dawn with his cheek in half an inch of water.

He sat up with a gasp. The movement flung his bedsheet off; it floated gently in the air. Bill's exhalations moved it faster than gravity did. The lake was flooding the tent.

He was collapsed halfway out of his tent. He crawled the rest of the way out, dry heaved, splashed some water on his face, forced himself to his feet, and looked at the golden sky.

He didn't like what he saw.

####

Ford and Dipper were woken up by "Reveille" playing on a kazoo. "Rise and shine, puppets, the situation's gotten worse!"

Ford sat up with a groan. "The devil's going..." He lifted his hand to rub his eyes, and instead splashed himself with water. He gasped. "What?"

Bill kicked at the zipped tent flap. "You're flooding, and that's the least of your bad news."

When Ford got out of the tent, Bill was pacing back and forth on top of the water, wringing water out of his bedsheet. "My estimate was wrong. Totality's happening today," he said. "The eclipse must have accelerated."

"Oh, that's ridiculous," Ford said. "How can an eclipse accelerate?"

"You don't know everything! You study the paranormal, you should be used to the inexplicable!"

"My job is to explain the inexplicable."

"Split hairs later!" Bill pointed toward Tate & Backle's Bait & Tackle shop at the far end of the lake. From that distance, it seemed to be sitting on the surface of the water as well. "The closest shelter's the bait shop. We can wait out totality there—"

"No," Ford said.

Bill stared at him. "What do you mean no. You don't still plan on hiking up to Gravity Peak—"

"I do."

"Are you insane!"

"That's an interesting question out of you."

"It's going to be here in hours! And you want to be at the highest point in Gravity Falls?!"

Dipper shuffled out of the tent, blinking groggily. "Why do you have a kazoo?"

"Not! Important! Now!" Bill resumed pacing. "What'll it take to convince you to take this seriously and stay low?"

"You could start with a proper explanation."

"I've explained as much as you need to—" Bill abruptly fell silent and stopped walking, eyes wide with horror.

Dipper and Ford turned to see what he was looking at.

There was nothing. Just a few pine trees in front of a line of gray rocks still tall enough to stick up out of the shallow water in front of the sheer cliff face below Gravity Peak. Dipper turned to Bill. "What?"

Bill didn't answer. He just took off his backpack and started stuffing his damp bedsheet inside. "With gravity so low, the climb through the tunnel to the peak should be a lot faster than humans can usually go," Bill muttered. "If we can get up there in an hour or two, do your stupid scans, and at least get back to the cave before totality..." He looked worriedly at the sky, then slung his backpack back on. "But we need to leave now."

Ford said, "I suppose we could have breakfast on the go. As soon as we pack our tents and change into dry clothes..."

"No time," Bill said. "You can change in the cave, you'll just get your clothes wet again if you do it here. We'll come back for the tents later."

Dryly, Ford said, "Who put you in charge of this expedition?"

"If we waste any more time, the lake will rise higher than the cave opening and we won't be able to get in."

Ford mentally measured how high the lake had risen already. "We'll come back for the tents later."

The survival equipment Ford kept in his backpack included a self-inflating raft with two collapsible paddles, which was well worth the slightly-unstable magic he'd used to get it to fit without being too heavy to carry. He inflated the raft, everyone climbed in, Ford gave Dipper the second paddle, and they set out across the lake in the pinkish early morning light.

Bill looked back over his shoulder one last time at the the line of sharp, gray rocks, and the beforeimage of brilliant red blood drying on their points, such a dramatic and permanent change to their appearance that even hours beforehand he could see it; and then he forced himself to turn away. The only way they were avoiding that was if they were off the cliff before totality.

####

As they crossed the lake, Bill ran his hands beneath the surface next to the inflatable raft and scooped up a handful of water. With the water came eight small, wriggly, ghostly axolotls, clear as glass and shining in the thin rays of dawn.

Dipper gasped. "What are those?"

Bill gave him a sharp look. "You can see them?"

"See what?" Ford asked, leaning over to peer at Bill's hands.

Dipper said, "The—the axolotls?" At Ford's frown, Dipper asked, "Can't you see them?"

"He can't see them," Bill said.

Uncertainly, glancing over the side of the boat, Ford asked, "In the water? Where?"

"No, in Bill's hands."

"He can't see them," Bill repeated. "You shouldn't be able to see them, either." He spilled the axolotls back into the lake. They melted into the water as though they'd never existed. "You really, really need to get inside."

Dipper did not like the sound of that. He swallowed hard.

"What exactly did you see?" Ford asked.

"Bill just... scooped a bunch of tiny axolotls out of the water," Dipper said. "Like the one in the fish tank, but smaller. And they were completely clear, like they were made out of ice."

"Were they alive?"

"Yeah, they were wiggling around. They disappeared when he dropped them back in the water."

"At least they're still transparent," Bill muttered. "And I suppose you won't take this as proof that I've been right about everything."

"Wh—" Ford lowered his paddle and gestured at the lake, "How do invisible axolotls that only some people can see prove anything about 'gravitational eclipses'! If anything, that sounds like the exact kind of weirdness that would come from the Nightmare Realm ripping open!"

"Oh, I wish it was the Nightmare Realm, I would love for it to be the Nightmare Realm," Bill snapped. "You know what, never mind! I changed my mind! Keep saying your thing about the sky ripping open and pouring all my friends into town! Maybe if you say it enough times I'll be wrong and it'll happen, that'd be great!"

"It at least makes more sense than your story! What in the world are a bunch of invisible axolotls doing in the lake, anyway!"

"Migrating."

"Axolotls don't migrate to Oregon, their native range is in Mexico!"

"Fine. Harbinging. They're harbingers."

"Of what?"

"The eclipse."

Ford dropped his oar, made a gesture like he was fighting himself not to strangle Bill, and finally dragged his hands down his face. "Why. Are invisible axolotls the harbingers of an eclipse."

"I don't know, it's just one of those things! Are we going to the cave or not?!"

Ford furiously started rowing again. Dipper had to hurry to keep up. 

As he paddled, Ford snapped, "And for as often as you've told us not to look up, now that this 'eclipse' of yours is nearly at 'totality,' I still don't see anything out of the ordinary in the sky!"

"Of course you don't," Bill snapped back, "it's not in the sky."

"Then why can't we look up?!"

"I don't mean up, I mean up-up."

Ford stared at Bill like he'd grown a second head. "WHAT?!"

"I mean... ahhh," Bill made a frustrated noise, snapping his fingers, "English doesn't have a word for— upward-but-not-skyward! You know what I mean!"

Ford almost snapped at Bill again; but then paused. "Hold on," he said slowly. "That's from..."

"Who cares what it's from, you at least know what it means—"

"Flatworld," Ford said. "That was the name of it, right?"

A brief grimace flashed across Bill's face. "Yes, that."

Dipper looked between them, confused. "What?"

Ford said, "It's a novella that explains the concept of higher dimensions by using a metaphor about lower dimensions. A sphere visits the second dimension to teach a square about the third—but where the sphere intersects the second dimension, all the square can see is a circle."

Bill muttered, "Would you drop the wise mentor schtick for five minutes—"

Ford raised his voice. "The sphere tries to explain that the rest of its body is above the second dimension—but having never seen the third dimension, in the square's language 'up' and 'above' mean the same thing as 'north.' The sphere resorts to calling the third dimension up-but-not-north to indicate that it's a different, unseen dimension."

Dipper nodded slowly. "So, if the eclipse is upward-but-not-skyward, then... what, you're telling us not to look in the fourth dimension?"

"Finally!" Bill sighed. "It's not exclusively in the fourth, but—it's close enough, you get the idea!"

Ford said, "But we can't see the fourth dimension."

Bill gave Dipper a dubious look that Dipper didn't like at all; but Bill only said, "Then you've got nothing to worry about, just like I've been saying! Keep your eyes shut just in case."

"Convenient that your proof is only visible in a dimension we can't see," Ford said wryly.

Dipper looked up, squinting at the sky. Bill shoved his head back down.

####

The waterfall was more of a waterfloat. Large orbs of water gently descended from the cliff high above, catching the early morning light. Ford and Dipper stopped paddling to watch in wonder. Bill muttered a spell under his breath, and a foot over their heads the waterfall landed on an invisible umbrella and rolled to the sides rather than land in their raft.

The water level had risen so high they had to lay nearly flat in the raft to get through the cave entrance; rather than paddling, Ford pushed them through with his hands on the tunnel's ceiling. Bill was out of the raft and walking across the water to the shore while Ford and Dipper were still getting their paddles positioned again. 

"Gravity's currently—what, about twenty-five percent?" Bill tugged off a shoe, dropped it, and observed how fast it fell. "Twenty to twenty-five percent." He took off his other shoe, rung out his socks over the lake, and stuffed them in his backpack, preparing to climb barefoot. "And it's only going lower. You should be able to just jump up most of the way to the top of Gravity Peak. So if you waste my time trying to climb..."

"Would you relax?" Dipper said irritably. "You should be glad we got up at the crack of dawn for you at all." He climbed out of the raft, copied Bill's attempt to dry out his socks and shoes, and then rung out his wet hat.

"You should be grateful I warned you totality's getting closer! Weren't you the ones convinced the world's going to end if you don't chuck a glue bomb at the sky?"

Ford muttered, "I'm surprised you didn't just have us waste time until the cave was inaccessible."

Bill processed that. He pressed his lips together, squeezed his eyes shut, and his face contorted in an expression of exquisite pain and regret. Through gritted teeth, he muttered, "Happy to help."

Ford reeled out a few feet of cable from his infinity belt, looped it around Dipper's waist, and tied it securely. An infinitely-long cable wouldn't be very helpful on a real climb—if Dipper lost his grip, it would just keep unreeling rather than stop his fall—but this wasn't much of a real climb, and at least it would ensure they couldn't get separated. Dipper took out a flashlight, Ford lit his antique lantern—instead of rising up, the flame inside looked nearly like a ball—and Bill hurried ahead of them, not bothering with any light source, eyes occasionally flashing like a cat's in the dark when he glanced back to check the humans' progress.

This was the fastest Ford had ever climbed the tunnel path up to the top of the mountain, easily leaping nearly twice his height to grab handholds that would previously have taken several minutes to climb to; and before long, he was all but ignoring basic spelunking safety to keep up with Bill. Losing his footing simply meant a slow, gentle fall back to the nearest level ground to try again. The only thing holding Bill back—who, Ford suspected, was now simply flying through the shadows—was Dipper, who was also climbing as fast as he could.

The only time Ford even came close to catching up was when Bill paused to look down the path that, if Ford remembered right, led to the thousand-year-old cave paintings where Ford first learned about his "muse"; but then Bill was gone again, rushing ahead into the dark. 

While Bill was at the furthest end of his tether, Ford dropped back to keep pace with Dipper. "Keep your voice low," he said, "but—Dipper, are you absolutely positive that what you saw in the lake were axolotls?"

"Pretty sure. They had the frills and everything, I don't know what else they'd be," Dipper said. "Do you think that's important? In your third journal..."

"That's just what I was thinking."

When Ford had documented his interdimensional travels in Journal 3, he'd included a few strange references to axolotls he'd heard over the years: refugees in the Nightmare Realm who'd cried "praise the Axolotl" when Ford had said he would kill Bill; an oracle who mentioned Bill's history and prophesied his defeat, whose temple was filled with tapestries and paintings of axolotls.

"Maybe they're connected?" Dipper asked. "Maybe the axolotl they're talking about is some kind of... ancient enemy of Bill?"

"I think it's more complicated than that," Ford said. "I was only able to describe a few of my travels in Journal 3—but I heard 'the Axolotl' mentioned in multiple dimensions."

Dipper processed that. "What, so... do you think they're all talking about the same god or something?"

"Yes and no. Some societies referred to this Axolotl as a divinity—although not a creator god. But nobody seems to agree on what its domain is. I heard some say it's the god of goodness. Other, the god of justice. The god of luck. The god of second chances. I've rarely seen the same label twice." Ford shrugged. "But then sometimes it was described like a vast animal or a force of nature—something that travels between stars and watches astronautical travelers, like a curious dolphin watching a boat. I never learned if they were all describing the same being, a group of beings—or if it was a simple translation error for some other term like 'demigod.'"

Dipper scrunched his nose. "'Translation error,' what? Across multiple civilizations?"

"The dimensional translator I received was somewhat buggy," Ford said. "From time to time it would offer wildly incorrect translations for individual words. For instance, it consistently replaced the word 'soccer ball' with soccer ball, of all things. You can only imagine what kind of trouble that got me into."

Dipper blinked in bafflement, opened his mouth, decided maybe this was a can of worms best opened later, and shut his mouth.

"And on top of all that, not all the cultures I encountered respect this 'Axolotl.' In some places, it was called the god of injustice, inequality, or cruelty. The patron deity of criminals and tyrants. Sometimes it's a villain in folklore—a legendary thief, mercenary, liar, or thug. I don't know why the stories vary so wildly," Ford said. "But that Axolotl certainly doesn't sound like someone who would be Bill's enemy."

"I guess not." But how could one being be the god of both justice and injustice? Second chances and cruelty? Either some of the stories had to be wrong, or else they were about different axolotls.

"So in the end, I have no idea what the Axolotl is. But," Ford said, "I wouldn't be surprised if it has something to do with whatever Bill's hiding."

####

When they reached the tunnel's exit, Bill was standing beneath a tree, staring fixedly at something unseen in the sky. "I think it's still speeding up," he muttered. "Not that either of you care. I suppose I'm just talking to myself."

Ford elected to ignore Bill as he untied the infinity belt's cable from around Dipper's waist and reeled it in. He started the walk to the highest point along the cliff's edge. Dipper followed, and reluctantly Bill did too.

The tunnel had meandered sideways as it rose through the mountain; the stream that fed the waterfall they'd passed under was far to their left side, and the cliff looked out not over the lake, but over what used to be the shore, which was now submerged in several inches of water.

Dipper followed Ford to the edge so he could look over at the waterfall. For a moment, he couldn't figure out why the lake below looked wrong; but then he realized that the sun had risen high enough that the sky had changed from pink to pale blue. Which meant the lake should have been reflecting blue. "Why's the lake pink?" 

When Ford just gave him a puzzled look—"It doesn't look pink to me."—Dipper turned to Bill.

Bill didn't even glance toward the lake. "Congratulations on being able to fully see the axolotls."

"There can't be enough to turn the lake pink," Ford protested, a tad irritably. "Leucistic axolotls are rare in the wild, they usually come in shades of brown and black."

"Oh you'll find anything to—" Bill pointed toward Dipper. "If you don't like their coloration, take it up with him! I'm not the one that told you how they look! If there weren't an independent witness here, you wouldn't have even believed me if I said there were axolotls."

"If there weren't an independent witness here, you wouldn't have told us there were axolotls." Ford slung off his backpack to rummage through it for the micro-rip scanner.

"Why am I seeing axolotls?" Dipper asked. "I mean, why... just me?"

Bill didn't answer for a second. He was still staring at the sky, watching something. He finally muttered, "Good question."

Dipper wasn't reassured by the fact that Bill wasn't even interested in pretending he knew the answer.

Bill said, "Remember when I told you that meeting some things—even just looking at them—will drive you mad? And that you almost met one?" He finally lowered his gaze to give Dipper a cruel smile. "Well, lucky you, you don't even need to build a portal. One's coming here."

Dipper swallowed hard. "So, don't look up?"

"Look who's finally catching on." Bill's gaze drifted away from Dipper's face and back to the sky.

"If just looking at it can drive you crazy, why are you looking?"

Bill laughed bitterly. "I've already taken as much damage as I can." With considerable effort, he tore his eyes from the sky. He floated to the edge of the cliff and peered over the edge.

Below were the sharp gray rocks near last night's campsite. Even from this high up, the future bloodstains were visible, bright red. They looked soon. Bill suppressed a shudder; his feet settled back on the ground and he backed away. "We're running out of time," he said. "You're as high as you can get, and you're still hundreds of feet below where the rift was. What now, smart guy?"

"I'm working on it." Ford was tying the end of his infinity belt's cable around the scanner. He gave the cable several feet of slack; twirled it in the air a few times to build up speed; and then let it go, sending it soaring into the sky. With gravity practically non-existent, the act of throwing it knocked Ford back a few inches, and the scanner simply kept on flying into the air.

Bill watched with his hands on his hips and a sour look. "Yeah, okay, all right, I guess that works."

"If anywhere is likely to have enough micro-rips to threaten reality, it'll be here," Ford said. "Here, we may need this." He took out the glue grenade, poured in his remaining adhesive, and handed the grenade to Dipper.

When the scanner reached its apex and began slowly falling, Ford pressed a button on his belt to retract the cable. He caught the scanner, examined the numbers, and frowned.

"Well?" Bill asked. He'd backed under the protective shade of a tree and was leaning on it with his arms crossed.

"Twenty-seven thousand micro-rips," Ford muttered. "The highest number so far. Nearly double the amount by Mabel's Fault."

Bill cupped a hand around his ear. "Sorry, did I hear you say 'a quarter of the danger threshold'?"

Ford didn't answer, still glaring at the numbers.

"So can we go now?" Bill asked. "Totality could be here any minute, and I do not want to be exposed on the highest spot in town."

Ford twirled the scanner over his head and chucked it again at another spot.

Bill let out a very quiet, very long, very high-pitched scream.

Ford whirled around. "Would you stop complaining!"

"SORRY! I've been seized by the FATAL HUMAN DELUSION that my actions might have an IMPACT on my FUTURE!" His face flushed with rage and his feet lifted several inches off the ground with the force of his screaming. "Or that MAKING SOUNDS with my MOUTH will COMMUNICATE MESSAGES that the HUMANS AROUND ME CAN COMPREHEND! But don't worry! I'm QUICKLY being proven wrong!" 

Ford actually bared his teeth at Bill, and immediately felt stupid for it. He turned away and reeled in the scanner. Catching it bounced him into the air; it took him several seconds to settle back on the ground. "Twenty-five thousand."

"Great!" Bill snapped. "Let's go!"

"So... does that mean we don't need this?" Dipper asked, holding up the glue grenade.

Ford hesitated, looking out over the town. Maybe the danger threshold was lower than Fiddleford had calculated. Or maybe Ford hadn't thrown the scanner at the right spot. Or maybe the problem was dozens and dozens of sites that didn't reach the danger threshold alone, but compounded on each other to destabilize the whole region. Maybe throwing the glue grenade and dispersing it over town was still necessary to stop all this. Bill was right about one thing: "totality," whatever it really was—the full disappearance of gravity—was close. Every movement seemed to knock him minutely off the ground, and he could see his clothes floating.

But he had no evidence the glue grenade would do anything but wreck the environment. Plus, axolotls were endangered; he couldn't imagine invisible leucistic ones were doing much better. He sighed, stuffing his scanner away in his backpack. "I suppose not." Dipper nodded and stored the glue grenade in his own backpack.

"Great," Bill said. "Let's go."

"The micro-rip theory doesn't look likely," Ford said. "But that means something else is going on. And we don't have any backup explanation." He turned and gestured impatiently at Bill. "Except your stupid eclipse story, which is too vague to explain anything and probably riddled with lies."

"GREAT! Let's GO!"

"I came up here to find out what's going on. So what's going on?"

Bill's worried gaze flicked from Ford's face to the sky, back to Ford, over to Dipper. "Your uncle's gonna get himself killed, kid. We don't have to join him. Get over here, at least we can get back in the cave."

Dipper glanced at Ford, crossed his arms, glared at Bill, and stood his ground.

"Hsgd—Fffss—shhk." Bill covered his face, whimpered, and dragged his hands down his face so hard his nails left red lines. "I hate you both so much."

They weren't getting anywhere unless Ford caught Bill off-guard enough to accidentally reveal something. "Bill, what's the Axolotl."

Bill's gaze shot to Ford's face. He pointed past him toward the lake. "Kid saw as much as I did, he can tell you—"

"No, Bill. What is the Axolotl," Ford said. "Friend of yours?"

All the blood drained out of Bill's face.

Ford had struck a nerve. "What does it have to do with all this?"

"How much do you know."

Ford laughed harshly. "And give you an opportunity to mold your lies around my knowledge? Tell us what it is!"

"It's—a curse," Bill said. "It's a curse in living form."

"No. Tell the truth."

"What do you want to hear! He's my defense attorney, okay?!"

"I said the truth, Cipher!"

"WHY?! How would you know the truth if I told it?!" He flung his arms wide in defeat, voice climbing toward a desperate shriek, "I haven't lied once since the eclipse began! What else can I do?! Should I start making up plausible stories again?! Why are you pumping me for information you don't even believe! How can I tell you the truth if you won't give me any trust!"

Ford didn't have an answer.

Bill didn't deserve trust. Offering him even a sliver of trust could be fatal. Ford was 100% certain of that. And if Ford never trusted a single word out of Bill, then they'd never be able to hold a conversation, about anything, ever. Which was fine. He didn't want a conversation. That bridge burned over thirty years ago. Don't trust him.

So then why was Ford trying to hold a conversation with Bill? If Ford didn't believe him, why did he keep trying? What was he hoping for?

What did Ford want to hear?

He didn't have a chance to figure it out. Bill's gaze flicked behind Ford, he screamed, "Anchor yourselves!" and he flung his arms around the tree.

"Wh—" Ford dropped to one knee as he turned to look where Bill was looking, and Dipper tried to fling himself to the ground; but neither had a chance to get a grip in the grass before the last little bit of gravity disappeared—and was replaced by something new.

The waterfalls stopped flowing, then curled up into the sky. The grass and trees tilted toward the center of Gravity Falls, as though blown by an unfelt breeze. Water slowly rose up out of the lake. The Island Head Beast was lifted into the air, eyes frantically rolling around and groaning in alarm.

And an unseen force pulled Dipper and Ford over the edge of the cliff and into the sky.

Dipper only made it five feet before the bracelet's invisible thread pulled taut. It took him another second to realize he wasn't moving and stop screaming. Bill was still clinging to the tree. The bracelets' thread could pass through objects when it was invisible, but if you tried to grab onto it, you could; could Dipper use it to climb back to land?

"Don't let go! I'm gonna reel myself in!"

Bill laughed hysterically. "Do anything you want, I'm not going anywhere."

Dipper groped blindly around his braceleted wrist with his free hand; caught the thread; and started dragging himself, hand over hand, down toward Bill. But even as Dipper tried to reel himself in, the unseen force continued to pull him back—in more dimensions and planes than he could see.

Something poorly attached tugged loose.

His vision swam and the world went gray.

And his soul popped out of his body.

Dipper's ghost looked at Bill. Bill looked at Dipper's ghost. They both looked at Dipper's dead body. They started screaming.

"What happened?!" Dipper groped at his ghostly torso—and through it—and then flailed his arms in a desperate attempt to make them more corporeal. "Ohmigosh what happened to me!"

"It's not me!" Bill shouted. "I didn't do it, you saw me, I wasn't even touching your body, I'm innocent!"

"I'm in the mindscape," Dipper said, "this is the mindscape, right?" It was unmistakeable; the world was cool and gray and muffled, just like last year, just like in all his nightmares. "Why am I in the mindscape! What am I doing here!"

And then the gray landscape fell beneath a reddish-pink shadow.

Dipper turned around.

A massive shape, winding slowly through the air as though it were swimming, descended over Gravity Falls, sunlight filtering through its translucent pink body. So massive that Dipper couldn't see both ends of it at once. So massive that even though only a tiny cross section of its body passed through the third dimension's mindscape at once, the full mass of its unseen higher-dimensional body was vast enough to eclipse Earth's gravity—and cause every loose object in town to slowly fall skyward toward its body.

It was awe-inspiring and terrifying and majestic; and Dipper was sure he'd seen it before.

The Axolotl twisted back on itself, doing a loop in the sky that carried it halfway to the moon, to position itself to look down at the peak over Gravity Falls with one huge, black eye. Bill looked at the ground. Dipper looked at its face. 

As Dipper made eye contact, the world froze. Everything slowed down. A hole in time and space opened where only the two of them existed; no one else could hear them and they could hear no one else. The Axolotl was so massive that Dipper could feel its thoughts like the static charge in a lightning storm and hear them like the echo of thunder. It thought—thunderously, apocalyptically, infinitely kindly—"Ah, yes. Hello again."

Dipper swallowed hard. "Hey," he croaked. "Have—we met?"

"Yes," the Axolotl said. "I'm afraid that's the only question I have time to answer. Tell your sister I said hello." Its world-making gaze moved off of Dipper, and he was back in the mindscape.

And the Axolotl turned his attention to Bill.

####

(Congratulations to the three people who saw it coming. Hope y'all enjoyed, would LOVE to hear what you think, and next week Things Get Worse, Again!!)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle ford #stanford pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

[reality-detective]

Was the Baltimore Bridge attacked? 👇

The Baltimore bridge collapse was an “absolutely brilliant strategic attack” on US critical infrastructure - most likely cyber - & our intel agencies know it. In information warfare terms, they just divided the US along the Mason Dixon line exactly like the Civil War.

Second busiest strategic roadway in the nation for hazardous material now down for 4-5 years - which is how long they say it will take to recover. The bridge was built specifically to move hazardous material - fuel, diesel, propane gas, nitrogen, highly flammable materials, chemicals and oversized cargo that cannot fit in the tunnels - that supply chain now crippled.

Make no mistake: this was an extraordinary attack in terms of planning, timing & execution.

The two critical components on that bridge are the two load-bearing pylons on each end, closest to the shore. They are bigger, thicker and deeper than anything else. These are the anchor points and they knew that hitting either one one of them would be a fatal wound to the integrity of the bridge.

Half a mile of bridge went in the river - likely you will have to build a new one. Also caused so much damage to the structural integrity of the bottom concrete part that you cannot see & won’t know until they take the wreckage apart. Structural destruction is likely absolutely.

Attack perfectly targeted.

“They have figured out how to bring us down. As long as you stay away from the teeth of the US military, you can pick the US apart. We are an arrogant and ignorantly - lethal combination. Obama said they would fundamentally change America and they did. We are in a free-fall ride on a roller coaster right now - no brakes - just picking up speed.”

The footage shows the cargo ship never got in the approach lane in the channel. You have to be in the channel before you get into that turn. Location was precise/deliberate: They chose a bend in the river where you have to slow down and commit yourself - once you are committed in that area there is not enough room to maneuver.

Should have had a harbor pilot to pilot the boat. You are not supposed to traverse any obstacles without the harbor pilot.

They chose a full moon so they would have maximum tidal shift - rise and fall. Brisk flow in that river on a normal day & have had a lot of rain recently so water was already moving along at a good pace.

Hit it with enough kinetic energy to knock the load-bearing pylon out from under the highway - which fatally weakens the span and then 50 percent of the bridge fell into the water.

All these factors when you look at it  - this is how you teach people how to do this type of attack and there are so few people left in the system who know this. We have a Junior varsity team on the field.

Tremendous navigational obstruction. Huge logistical nightmare to clean this up. The number of dead is tragic but not the whole measure of the attack.

That kind of bridge is constantly under repair - always at night because there is so much traffic and they cannot obstruct that during the day. So concern is for repair guys who were on foot (out of their vehicles) working who may now be in the water - 48 degrees at most at this time of year.

When you choke off Baltimore you have cut the main north-south hazardous corridor (I-95) in half. Now everyone has to go around the city - or go somewhere else.

To move some of that cargo through the tunnel you may be able to get a permit but those are slow to get and require an escort system that is expensive and has to be done at night.

For every $100 dollars that goes into the city, $12 comes from shipping. Believe this will cripple the city of Baltimore at a time when they do not have the resources to recover.

- Lara Logan

The traffic issue was mentioned in this 👇 post

Maybe we have to dig deeper into this Bridge collapse further. Could it be a deeper issue? What's in those shipping containers? Who owns the ship?

Is it for this 👆

It has been 3 years and 3 days since the Evergreen blocked the Suez Canal. Does the number 33 mean anything?

Was this a "Black Swan Event?"

I'm just asking questions? 🤔

#pay attention #educate yourselves #educate yourself #knowledge is power #reeducate yourself #reeducate yourselves #think about it #think for yourselves #think for yourself #do your homework #do some research #do your own research #ask yourself questions #question everything #black swan #distraction #save the children #save our children #save humanity #crimes against humanity #you decide

[vacayisland]

Alright I’m giving ya three request- you can do one, all, none- doesn’t matter lol. I’m just obsessed with trolls

Clay x Nerdy! Troll! Reader

Aight, now this reader met Clay while he arrived in Putt Putt village. (Your choice for gender) They are a complete dork, clumsy, always excited to do serious stuff. But also a little insecure knowing they can get a little out of hand with overthinking/overexcitement

@!; You're my "hole-in-one" Clay / Nerdy! Troll! Reader

"Summary"! Clay meets someone who can finally keep up with him and his... outlandish ways in helping Viva run Putt Putt village. Some could say it's a match made in heaven. He says it was simply his "lucky stroke". "Tags"! literally one too many golf puns (only in the title and summary), Clay and Reader being dorky together, literally just fluff, maybe a little hurt but then fluffed out!

@!; You had been one of the trolls that came to the Putt Putt village with Viva; having gotten trapped in the tunnels as they collapsed, there was no where else to go other than with the Princess. It was a small populace when you all found the abandoned gulf course and decided to call it home. And though your numbers slowly grew, it would be years before an outside Troll would come across the Village. "Did you hear?" You woke up one morning to the sounds of murmuring in the street, trolls glancing around at each other in a skeptical manner. Whispering like a Bergen was on the brink of finding the village. "I didn't think any Pop troll would come out this far!" Whispered another Troll nearby as you tried to catch what everyone was saying. It was harder to do so here, as everyone was slightly more weary and reserved than normal Pop Trolls. "And nevertheless ask to stay in our village..." There was a beat, "What if he's spying for the Bergens? What if the Bergens found everyone again and there was some sort of agreement made?" "Do you really think the King would do something like that?" All the rumors were a little insane, you had to admit. Most were logical, sensible and reasonable. Others just made you scrunch your nose and turn away; questioning if people could really think that way. Either way, all you knew is that you had to meet this new Troll! You doubted they could be a spy, as the Pop Trolls didn't exactly know where the others in the tunnels went... or even knew if we had survived. So the most logical answer is that they just happened to stumble onto this village without realizing who inhabited it. So, they shouldn't mean any harm.

@!; In the long run, you had been right! Clay didn't mean any sort of harm. In fact, Viva seemed rather excited to welcome him into the village with open arms and a big smile. It put most of the other Trolls in the village at ease seeing Viva deeming the newcomer as friendly, and saw no reason to draw any sort of suspicion onto him. You met Clay later than you wanted, a few weeks into his stay at the village. In fact, you had to be introduced to Clay for the two of you to even meet. "Oooh, (Y/N)!" Viva's voice carried through the small 'serious' office you had made yourself. Viva had always been the outgoing one, the social one; the one who everyone would turn to because she knew what to say or do and how to make everyone feel better! You were the brains behind it all, at least before Clay got introduced. You ran the logics of every outing and reconstruction of buildings. You made sure the food supply would last and that any part or sing-out wouldn't be heard by anyone nearby. You ran everything in the background that allowed everyone to be safe and you did so not because you were told... but because you genuinely enjoyed it. Filling papers, sorting folders, punching in numbers, thinking over statistics and finding out that hidden number! Oh it could make you happier than singing any sort of song; Pop, Country, Funk or any other genre. Many Trolls didn't get it, your love for crunching numbers. They would rather sing and socialize, but you didn't need their approval. You had your happy place within numbers and the smell of vanilla folders and they had there's outside handing and whatnot. Which is why when Viva said the new Troll, Clay, wanted to come help work in the office, you were shocked! "You want to help me?" Dumbfounded, even, as you started at the door while helplessly pointing at yourself. Viva couldn't help but giggle as your look, your jaw at the ground, as Clay shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "Yeah." He seemed a little nervous, "Of course, if that's okay with you. I wouldn't want to encroach-" "Encroach?" You voice suddenly boomed, now to Clay's shock. "Encroach?! I've always been looking for someone to help me here! It gets a little lonely sometimes-.. My friend, as long as you can crunch numbers and be okay with sorting vanilla folders by month and year and preforming probability equations with me you can saw we're already more than partners!" Clay let out a surprised yell as you rushed over and hugging him. Viva let out another bit of laughter, always getting a kick of seeing you so excited. "We're practically friends! Maybe best friends- wait. Wait! Too soon, ah I'm so sorry." Clay's feet hit the floor again with a small thump as you backed away from Viva and him. "Where are my manners, I'm sorry, I-" "Don't get turned off by them Clay. They're just very excited about their job." Viva tried to explain, watching as you had stumbled over your feet while backing away from the two; bumping into your desk and knocking over papers and pencils and pens. Clay couldn't help but feel all his nerves leave him at once. He had a feeling you both would get along just great.

@!; From that day on, you worked along side Clay behind the scene for Viva and the village. Not many Trolls understood what drew you two to the more slow paced life, but you found comfort in each other's understanding. Now, after some time, Clay knew about your habits to get over excited about your job; he found it both endearing and a little cute. Such as he came back from checking the economic logistics about rebuilding a building to find you hard at work at your desk. You were scribbling down letters in a hurry, scratching out numbers that didn't work and rewriting numbers in an effort to get the correct answer. There was already a pile of paper in the trash beside you. Clay wasn't sure if it was the oh-so determined look on your face that caused him to stop and watch, his clipboard still in hand, or the way your effortlessly calculated numbering in your head. The way your eyebrows furrowed every time you got the incorrect answer. The way you crumpled up a paper with rage and tossed it off to the side before returning to work with it all gone. It just drew Clay in for some reason and he couldn't understand it. You just had such and odd effect to him he hasn't felt before. "Ah! FINALLY!" Your shout snapped him out of his thoughts as you shot up from your chair like a rocket; causing the chair to lose balance and tumble down, crashing onto the floor and scaring you. Flustered, you rushed to pick up the chair. You didn't notice Clay until he started chuckling besides you, "Finally got the right number there?" It was a tease, a light jab from Clay. Though he didn't expect your sudden acknowledgement of his presence would cause the chair to go tumbling again. "Are you..?" As amusing your overexcitement could be, paired with how flustered you got afterwards, Clay was kind of concerned about the chair. And you. He was also concerned about you. "Yes! I'm good. I'm good.." You fiddled with your fingers, a dorky yet embarrassed smile spread cross your face as your eyes darted from Clay to the paper on your desk. "I just-..." You stopped yourself, chewing at the corner of your lip. "Go on, what happened?" Though Clay encouraged you, not bothered by your excited nature and your clumsy tendencies. "Ah! Okay!" There was that brighter smile Clay always adored on you, "So while you were gone I opened a request from Viva, and at first I thought it was going to be something like checking the speakers or the mechanics on the clown to see how long they'll take before rusting. But actually it was one of my favorite jobs! "Viva asked me, ME! To calculate how long we could all survive on the supplies we have here before there needed to be some sort of expedition for supplies." Clay didn't mind the way your voice bounced with such a lively tone, or the way you dancing on the tips of your toes with excitement, or how you jumped up and down while shaking your hands as you couldn't contain all the emotions bursting inside you. To Clay, that's what made you, well you! And he wouldn't change anything about you.

@!; Clay never thought he would find a day, though, where you would be doubting yourself this bad. He had gone out to take a five minute break from the office, leaving you to work in relative peace and silence. He only needed a stretch, some fresh air, and then he would be right back. It had only been five minutes, at least Clay thought it had. He guessed he did stop and talk to Viva about some projects, along with light chatter and making lunch plans with the three of them. It surely hadn't been that long!... or maybe it had. Clay found you holding the edge of your desk and gripping your pencil as though your life depended on it. Sure he knew you overthought a lot, as it was usually a reason why you got so overexcited when you get something right and prove yourself wrong. Yet he's never seen you like.. this. On the brink of tears, sitting on the edge of your seat, breath slightly ragged as you tried to calm it, looking down at the paper like you had lost all sort of hope and had failed everyone and they were long gone and eaten. it scared him. It really did. He didn't know what to do for a moment, and he later kicked himself in the ass for standing there and watching you struggle for so long, only rushing to your side when you fell off your chair. "(Y/N)! Hey! Hey, what's wrong?!" Clay rushed to your side, sliding to his knees to be right next to you and your shaking figure. He was terrified, but he needed to be strong for you in this moment. You weren't responding and Clay tried his best to remain as calm as he could. Slowly he reached his hands out, cupping over your hand that held a death grip on a pen. He tried slowly loosening your hold, carefully getting you to drop the pen you were holding onto the floor. He spoke softly to you while he did this, trying to get your mind to ground itself back to Earth, working on getting you to let go of the desk next. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I promise it's okay." Clay wasn't sure if you even heard him at this moment, yet he was going to do all it took to calm you down; you didn't deserve to hurt yourself like this. "I promise everything is okay. Whatever happened, whatever you're thinking, it's all okay. You're okay, the village is okay, there's nothing you cannot do..." Clay managed to break your hold from the desk and moved to hug you, tightly and securely. He continued to try and comfort you, bring you any sort of relief from whatever pain you were causing yourself. It was a while before he felt you wrap your arms around him, slowly hiding your head into his shoulder as you began to sob. It broke Clay's heart to hear you sob. It broke Clay more when your body began to tremble as you couldn't even begin to explain what you were feeling. You held so many big emotions for a Troll, Clay knew that all too well, and sometimes those big emotions were horrible and nasty and infesting. Clay wished he could protect you from those emotions, but logistically knew he couldn't. So he sat with you, on the floor of the small office, providing all the comfort you needed until you were okay again. And he'll be here forever; ready to stick with you through the thick and thin, the harsh and the best. All to be able to see your bright smiles and your excited little gimmicks and even your worse days. Clay loved you, and that's something no logic could deny.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

#clay trolls x reader #trolls clay x reader #clay trolls #brozone x reader #dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #trolls fandom #trolls dreamworks #trolls band together #trolls #brozone #trolls viva #trolls clay #trolls brozone

[bolidebelle]

Okay so ... Forgive me if this is a little awkward, I have no idea how to start an au like this.

The trolls are running through the tunnels for their lives. The pickaxes are coming down destroying sections of the tunnels and separating loved ones. Viva's panicking, she's only 13, the world is crumbling around her, she's trying to catch up to her father and the main pack of trolls. But the screams for help are too much. As they run she hears something, a trolling cry out and fall. She looks back to see the gray trolling on the ground, behind everyone. She panics. The trollings were supposed to be in a group, at the front. She sees the pickaxe and before she can think she's turned back and grabs him, rolling out of the way as the tunnel collapses right where he was. He's little, only 5. Who would leave a baby like that alone??? Separated she does what she has to, she fights off the Bergens, she saves the other survivors, and slowly as a group, they find their way to freedom. His name is Branch, and he clings to her hand like the world might end if he doesn't. Viva's scared of a lot, but being a big sister? She knows how to do that. She didn't get to be one for long but knows how to comfort and soothe.

So yeah, basically, Branch is with the Putt Putt Trolls, and raised by Viva AU? I'm still working on it, but this is a -lot- of fun. Not sure what to call it yet. Still working out the tangles.

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #trolls branch #branch trolls #brozone #trolls au #trolls viva #viva branch siblings au

[bonefall]

Is Sandgorse still abusive in BB? If so does he still save Sparrow? Idk I think it'd be a neat thing for Talltail to brood on and move past once realizing the truth. Like just because your abuser did a "Good Thing tm" doesn't mean you have to forgive them or that all of a sudden it excuses their past a tion towards you.

Or did you remove this plot beat entirely? If so I don't blame you :P

Weird that Tumblr search isn't giving me all the stuff I tagged :/ hopefully after finals are done I can compile a 1st draft/The Story So Far for the rework of Tallstar’s Revenge

It's now called TALLSTAR’S COLLAPSE. It is actually a story I am rewriting with tragedy in mind. It's about Talltail fleeing WindClan with his starcrossed lover, Sparrow, only to eventually be drawn back to it where he becomes a perpetuator of all the things that made him leave.

To answer your question; Yes, and. Sandgorse is abusive and there's a LOT of nuance to this situation. I'm not sure if he still saves "Sparrow" though because I have waaaay more of a point in mind with Tallstar’s tumultuous relationship to him.

Summary of changes,

Tallstar's Collapse

Sparrow is the Clanmew name Jake takes when his group interacts with WindClan. His first language is actually a dialect of Townmew!

(Also Firestar has no known father in BB)

His group is nomadic. They go from place to place trading goods. I need a name for both them and their cultural "cluster" but in my head, Jake's family is the Algernauts because Algernon is the current leader

It's important the Algernauts are extremely endearing because leaving them is VERY painful

(and something i want to frame as the wrong choice for tallstar, emotionally)

WindClan is in a very sensitive period of its history. Before Tallstar was born, Heatherstar began the Mothermouth Moorland War, to take a very large parcel of land from ShadowClan. A good 1/5th of it.

Naturally this is a huge project and incredibly ambitious. Sacrifices Must Be Made

The sacrifice she has chosen to make is the death of tunneling. Because she's smothering it.

Tunneling is PEACEFUL, defensive at best. You can't dig them in a floodplain, they would be useless for holding the Mothermouth Moorland territory

Tallkit is born into a terrible position. Son of the head tunneler, mother in a terrible depression, and Heatherstar trying to pry a wedge between the "future" and the "past"

Im also planning to change his name. He was born Slowworm-Kit, which has a connotation of cleverness in Clanmew. To bully him, Shrewpaw calls him Wormtail, because Slowworms drop their tails if pulled. It means "you will get trapped in a cave-in, and when they pull your tail, it'll fall off"

But it doesn't translate well into English... so I'm not sure what his Heatherstar-given warrior name would be. Wormwing or Wormleap maybe, like he "defied fate" to become a wonderful moor-runner...

Or maybe the prefix is Drop? Droptail as the mean bully name and Dropflight as the warrior name...

Anyway, when he returns, Heatherstar welcomes back the extra claws and honors the lesson he learned with "Talltale." In Clanmew this is "Story-travelled," his leader name meaning "Tale-star."

Anyway. Back to the cat drama

Talltail (name pending) is in a tight spot. I kind of want to show everyone being a victim except Heatherstar herself, who has all the power in this situation.

Not that it excuses anyone

Sandgorse is watching something he loves dying, an ancient tradition passed down for generations. He is trying to force his son into a position he shouldn't HAVE to occupy, but his child is the one thing he might have any control over

(Until Tall breaks it ofc)

Tallpaw was just a kid. He needed to take out his bullying and the stress on something, and that was usually his mother and the concept of tunneling

Palebird has been completely neglected by her mate as he focuses on the person he WANTS his kid to be. She NAMED a Fading Kit, a serious social taboo, and even the support of the nursery and Woolytail can't pull her out before Tall's kithood is over

Heatherstar is using Tallpaw as a political pawn and Tallpaw is too young and hurt to realize it. He was given to her sister, Dawnstripe, and endlessly praised for his skill and talent in a time where he NEEDED positive feedback

Which is making his relationships with his parents worse

All the while, there's VIOLENCE. Regular raids and counterstrikes. Cats die and get injured, and it only escalates as Tall gets older and Cedarstar is reaching the end of his lives, hoping to end the conflict before then

And in all this chaos and uncertainty, there comes Sparrow.

Just a trader and an honored guest, there's been lots of these nomadic visitors since the time of Windstar herself, but they've become quite rare.

When Sandgorse dies suddenly in that collapse (TITLE DROP) Talltail has the push he finally needs. It's too much. He can't process this

Sparrow begs him to leave with them, they don't even need to confront anyone, just come!

IF IT SUCKS HIT DA BRICKS

I have tons of really nice little things planned for this part of the story. It's several chapters of Talltail being free.

He engages in the funeral rites of Wee Hen, asking if he may sit vigil for her. His new family is honored to allow it, Reena even tries to do it too and falls asleep

(Little sister energy)

They meet all sorts of people and go to many places. Talltail learns that the world is vast, and there's an endless amount of knowledge out here.

It all starts crashing down when him and Jake find a litter of abandoned kittens, and become parents.

They're a few moons old.. around the same age as his halfsibs back home.

It starts bringing back memories. He wonders how they're doing. If they made a nice grave for Sandgorse...

The sudden longing for his own mother strikes him like lightning.

For the first time in eons, he feels GUILT over leaving. He thought it was over-- he's living his own life now!

But what if they're hurt? What if there was a battle and he couldn't help? What if his mentor died and he didn't even know?

What kind of a horrible son doesn't even say goodbye?

The problems that made him leave seem so small now, and the homesickness is like acid leaking from his stomach, dissolving his guts and leaving him hollow

He's raising kits who will never know what it means to earn a title, or have a permanent home, or--

(Any of the other things he should have learned don't have meaning outside of clan culture. Things they wouldn't miss.)

He cherishes the memories he makes here, raising children with his mate, but something turns inside of Talltail. Like the groaning ache of a hundred stones on top of a decaying mineshaft

The REAL collapse is this. An existential crisis Talltail can't escape from.

And eventually, it comes tumbling down with one last, horrible nightmare.

In his dream, he came home only to find the sandy camp abandoned, the dens decrepit, full of musty scent and cobwebs.

Sandgorse was there. And they talked.

His dad was gruff as always, disappointed. But he didn't say anything the real Sandgorse would say.

The nightmare said, "You really did turn out like me. We both left your mother when she needed us. Turned our backs on our leader. And now we're both dead to WindClan."

Tall wakes up crying. Jake is there to comfort him, but the conversation they have is sad.

Jake tries to tell him that's all not true, and even if it WAS his dad, his dad sucked and would only say that to hurt him!

But... Tall can't believe it. Jake's right but also wrong. He IS all those horrible things.

And...... how can jake ever Understand? He does not know the Bonds of a Clan cat

(thought terminating cliche. Outsiders Cant Understand Our Bonds.)

He stays a few more days, but that nightmare was the end. And everyone sees the change.

The kits are apprentice-aged. He stayed until they would be old enough to keep up with the Algernauts.

And he says goodbye. He won't ever leave without saying goodbye ever again.

Jake says it doesn't have to be goodbye, he'll always love him, and they can visit! They can see each other again!

And Tall says yes. That this isn't the end. It's... see you later, my love.

(...but they both know how violent it's getting between Wind and Shadow. It isn't safe to visit.)

It is the end. But neither can admit it.

But after Tall is a fair distance away, one of his kits tackles him.

POSSIBLY Post-Tallstar's Collapse

Not sure if I'd put these in a novella or still make it part of it, but these are all directly related to the fallout of Tallstar's Collapse

Most likely is that there would be overlap between this and Brokenstar's Cataclysm, so the same events would be seen in different perspectives.

The kit's name is Fly. Tall has to wait for him to catch his breath and stop crying before they can talk.

Fly already lost parents before. He says he knows he can't make his dads stay together, "But PLEASE, papa, let me choose where I go this time!"

How could he say no? How could he send his son away after a plea like that?

He told him it would be hard. That he would be trained. That there would be dangerous fights.

Fly didn't care, he said he could be strong. He could do anything he needed to.

So... Tall took him to WindClan, where he became Flypaw. He became the warrior he promised he would be.

And Tall didn't notice how much the kid was changing until it was too late. Flytail took to it as if he was Clanborn-- but had to work twice as hard, fight thrice as viciously.

Though Talltail was graced with an Honor Title and open arms, he'd adopted his greatest rival.

Fly and Tall started competing for deputyship as soon as they finished training apprentices; Heatherstar had a fondness for the two of them.

In the end, Talltail won the spot by springing into action and saving Heatherstar's young nephew, a little golden tabby, from an adder.

Flytail continued as one of the more aggressive warriors in the Clan, surviving increasingly violent and bitter battles, until it came to a head in Heatherstar's Last Stand.

Her final battle as an old leader was a gruesome, definitive curbstomp in the last strategic point ShadowClan held above Carrionplace.

One of the losses was Lizardstripe-- neck snapped in Flytail's jaws.

Runningnose, and by extension, the oak-tree to his long-shadow, Brokentail, remembered this. Especially when Runningnose's father Mudfoot collapsed later that year.

As Talltail took leadership from the dying Heatherstar, a familiar regretful guilt wormed into his belly.

His son Flytail stood with a bloody mouth, eyes wet with sorrow, looking down at the leader Talltail once loved almost as much. Appreciating her sacrifice.

(secretly he didnt choose Deadfoot as his deputy just for his honor title or the battle move he invented... he chose him because there was a shocked, sorrowful look in his eyes at the fallen shadowclan cat. Sympathy seems more honorable in this moment.)

Tallstar is a wise leader... but his fatal flaw is naivety. How could he think he'd bring his son into WindClan, and not see the boy grow into a ferocious Warrior?

And naivety is what he displayed when he offered Raggedstar a peace deal. WindClan would keep the land, but they would pay a small tax of rabbits over the winter.

It was unprecedented. It was merciful. It was stupid.

When the winter was over, what would stop them from pushing further south?

Would they trade back the frogs and the flax, come summer?

On the blood and bones of so many warriors? As if giving up was ever an option?

Brokentail killed his father to prevent him from taking the deal, and reawakened Ripplestar's War Tactics.

BURN the peat. KILL the prey. OFFENSE is defense. A dead warrior is 10 less claws. A dead apprentice is 1 less warrior.

Stolen kittens are 1 more warrior on your own side.

Tallstar paid the ultimate price for letting Flytail follow him home that day. On the night of the massacre, Flytail went down fighting alongside a mate and a daughter. Dogpiled by Tangleburr and her squadron in revenge for Lizardstripe and Mudfoot.

Tallstar's granddaughter Stoneclaw, made a warrior and sitting for her vigil on that night, was the sole survivor of the little family.

The event stopped her from speaking again, like she's still sitting vigil.

Tallstar is a character who almost broke free of the control of the Clans. For a brief moment of his life, he was free.

He thought maybe he could change things a little, protect his Clanmates from the battles by being part of them, have the Mothermouth Moorland and protect the peace at the same time. But you CAN'T.

You can't fix broken systems without fundamentally changing them. He thought he could be a nice warlord and that would work on the Clan whose territory he had inherited. Power acts through people just as much as they act through power.

And that's Tallstar. He who travels the world, yet is never able to go far enough. Always falling just a little short of the point, believing that love and mercy is enough while blissfully ignorant of the pressures of pride and power.

Into this role, as a successor to this leader, Onestar is unwillingly thrust.

#BB!Tallstar #Better bones au #BB!Flytail #Tallstar's Collapse

[waytooinvested]

Fic: Small Problem...

A silly little story inspired by this adorable art by @art-by-ilaa19

.............

There was a low, sonorous BOOM, and before she had quite caught up with the fact that anything had gone wrong, Lena found herself sailing through the air as a blast ripped through the Tower. She braced herself for a painful impact, but by incredible good fortune the force threw her directly at the couch, where she landed with a small ‘oomph’ as the wind was knocked out of her.

She lay still for a couple of seconds, struggling to draw breath into her lungs, then fought her way free of the collapsed cushions to make sure her friends were safe and take stock of the damage.

As shocking as it was to be suddenly thrown several feet, the incident actually seemed to have been pretty minor – more a pulse of energy than an actual explosion, really, though it had apparently been enough to knock everyone off their feet.

Kelly and Alex were kneeling beside the bookcase they had hit comforting a crying Esme, though thankfully the little girl seemed to be more startled than actually hurt, having been caught and buffered from the falling books by her moms.

Nia had ended up on top of Brainy on the floor, but from the way they were now staring into each other’s eyes, Lena deduced that they were no worse for wear, and glanced away quickly before she started to feel like an intruder on the moment they were so clearly having.

J’onn was bemusedly brushing soil and flower petals out of his hair after a collision with a pot plant, but the plant had decidedly come off the worst and he seemed to be more or less fine, even with the fetching addition of a Michaelmas daisy tucked rakishly behind one ear.

And Kara was-

Not there.

Given her powers the girl of steel should have been barely ruffled by a force that hadn’t even blown out the windows, and yet one minute she had been standing by the work bench, and now she was… nowhere.

‘Kara?’ Lena stood up gingerly from her place on the couch and looked around, anxiety beginning to stir in her belly.

‘Did anyone see what happened to Kara?’

Distracted from their own minor disasters, everyone turned to look at her, then to glance around the room as if Kara might be simply hiding behind something.

‘You two were cosied up together over something before the blast hit. Didn’t you see where she went?’

Alex’s question would once have made Lena’s hackles rise, but she understood now that it was concerned, not accusatory, and she just shook her head, worry sinking its claws ever deeper with every second Kara failed to reappear.

‘Uuuuh… guys? Wherever Kara is, I think she left her clothes behind’.

Nia had finally managed to disentangle herself from Brainy, and was pointing at the heap of cloth that as yet had gone unnoticed beside the workbench.

‘Oh, that can’t be good…’

Without quite knowing how she had got there, Lena found herself kneeling over the crumpled supersuit, lifting it carefully as if Kara might somehow still be hiding inside it. The fabric was warm from her skin, and Lena had to resist to urge to bury her face in it to hide her tears. It felt like they had only just got Kara back from the phantom zone, and now she was just gone again? So suddenly, and without any warning that she had even been in danger.

‘Hello? Can anyone hear me?’

Lena froze.

The voice sounded muffled and very far away, but she had heard it. She was almost certain.

‘Kara? Is that you? Where are you?’

‘Lena? Thank Rao! I’m not sure, I’m trapped somewhere. Some kind of dungeon I think? It’s small and dark, and it smells weird. Can you get me out?’

‘Kara? It’s Alex, we’re all here. We can hear you, just, but we can’t see you. We’re going to work out where you are and get you out. Do you remember how you got there?’

They all held their breath as they listened for Kara’s next message, focusing hard to pick up the distant words.

‘I was in the Tower, then there was an explosion, and I fell. There was a sort of tunnel... I’m at the bottom of it now, but the entrance sealed up behind me’.

The others glanced at each other, all trying to puzzle out what sort of portal Kara might have gone through to end up where she had described and yet still be audible from the Tower. All but Lena, who, being closest, had picked up the direction of the voice. A sneaking suspicion was growing in her mind as she honed in on it and put the pieces together with what Kara had told them.

It couldn’t be… could it?

She rummaged through the layers of discarded supersuit until she reached the knee high boots, which had folded over on themselves without the support of Kara’s legs inside to hold them up. She picked up the left one and peered inside, down the long tunnel of red leather it created.

Nothing.

Feeling a little silly now with everyone staring at her with expressions ranging from baffled to bemused, she picked up the right, and was instantly met with a tiny yell of alarm.

‘Woah! The room’s moving!’

Ah hah.

Lena laid the boot out very carefully on its side, and help the top part open.

‘Kara? Has the tunnel open up again now?’

‘Yes! How did you know that?’

‘I just- well, you’ll see in a minute. Follow the light. But uhh… try not to be too alarmed when you get out. We’re going to fix this, okay?’

They all stared as, blinking against the comparative brightness of the room, a tiny figure emerged from the boot’s opening.

Esme let out a shriek of pure joy, tears entirely forgotten, and would have thrown herself across the room to scoop up her now doll-sized aunt had Kelly not put restraining arms around her.

‘No baby, you might hurt her by mistake. Lets stay back here a minute and let Aunt Lena do it, okay? Lots of big people around her might be a bit frightening for Aunt Kara right now’.

And the sudden loud yell had indeed seemed to startle Kara, making her flinch and dive back into the mouth of the boot. Lena lay down on her side so she could see inside, head level with the cave-like opening.

‘Hey, it’s alright Kara. You’re safe. We’re still in the tower. You seem to have… shrunk, somehow, but we’re going to figure out how to fix it, okay? I promise’.

She kept her voice quiet and coaxing, trying not to frighten Kara any further even as she struggled to wrap her own mind around what had just happened.

‘I… shrank?’

‘It does look that way. You’re inside your boot right now’.

Kara stared up at Lena, then around at the shadowy recesses of her refuge, and finally down at herself. She said something too quietly to pick up, though the tone was bordering on panicky, then she called out again, clearer now that she was no longer muffled by layers of leather.

‘Um… okay. So I have total faith that you’re gonna find a way to full-size me again, but in the mean time… does anyone have anything I can wear? I am… more naked than I realised’.

In the circumstances, Lena hadn’t quite taken in that part either until it was pointed out to her, but... yep. Kara was naked. Extremely, totally, life ruiningly naked. It was something she had fantasized about too many times to count through their years of as-yet-unacknowledged physical chemistry with each other, but if she was ever going to be lucky enough to get there for real, this was not how she had imagined it would go.

Lena averted her eyes quickly, her cheeks heating inconveniently in response, despite the fact that the situation was about as far from sexy as it could get, and Kara was at this moment only around four inches high.

‘Right, of course, I’ll find you something. Stay there a minute, okay?’

Finding miniature clothes on short notice was easier said than done, and in the end they had to settle for a kleenex, which Kara wrapped around herself toga-style, and secured with a hair elastic offered up by a still-delighted Esme. It was pink and sparkly, and had a plastic glitter butterfly ornament attached to it, but it was the best they could do at short notice.

Once she was dressed and had fully emerged from the boot, Lena held out her hand and Kara climbed gingerly up into it, hanging on grimly as she was lifted from the floor.

‘Are you okay? Are you hurt?’

‘I don’t think so. I’m just… a bit overwhelmed. I don’t think I like being tiny. Also… and this seems kind of insignificant compared to what just happened, but I’m really hungry’.

She sounded totally miserable, and Lena wished she could hug her friend, but she was afraid that wrapping a hand around her would feel more like being grabbed than hugged. She settled for laying a fingertip lightly on Kara’s shoulder in a gesture that, she hoped, would feel comforting rather than alarming.

‘We’re going to figure this out. But in the meantime, hungry is something I can help with’.

Cupping Kara in her hands so she wouldn’t fall, Lena carried her over to the table where various snacks were laid out to fuel them through what they had thought would be a typical day of work. Lena skimmed the various options quickly, before settling on the remains of an order of potstickers and placing Kara down very gently amongst them.

Kara’s squeal of delight was the loudest noise Lena had heard from her since she had been miniaturised, and she couldn’t help laughing as she watched her best friend launch herself at a dumpling that was almost as big as she was.

As she turned back to the others to begin the work of figuring out how to un-shrink Supergirl, she was pretty sure she heard a tiny cry of ‘BEST DAY EVER!’ from inside the box.

It looked like Kara might just have found some upsides to being pocket sized, after all.

#supercorp #kara danvers #supergirl #lena luthor #my fic #supergirl fanfiction #crack fic #light hearted silliness #inspired by fanart #please go and check out the artist's awesome work if you haven't aready

[hero-israel]

So I've seen a lot of talk from people who allow that Israel was justified to attack Gaza after October 7th, but they feel that Israel still attacked too indiscriminately, killed too many Palestinians, and destroyed too much of Gaza. Two particular hangups I've seen most commonly are the idea that Israel should have done a "tactical counter-terrorism" action rather than a ground invasion, and a specific objection to Israel dropping 2000 pound bombs on Gaza specifically. I don't feel that I know enough about military tactics, so I don't know how legitimate it would have been for Israel to go into Gaza "tactically" or to drop smaller bombs, but I suspect Hamas would be a lot stronger than it is currently, and the same people would still be tut-tutting Israel's actions (if not calling them out with equal outrage). It's very frustrating

Everyone wants a better alternative but nobody describes what it is. Reminds me of the recent post about the Houthis - "don't bomb them, you need to find a way to get rid of the Red Sea embargo that only kills the badguys and nobody else." Okay, I'll just ask the genie of the lamp to magic them away. There are no options for going into Gaza that aren't utterly horrible. Hamas knows this, it was the whole point of their trap, and it is working.

Here's a fair-minded, moving essay by a Gazan Palestinian saying Israel needs "targeted, low-intensity, long-term operation[s] that could sustainably reduce Hamas’ military capabilities and create conditions to introduce a new administration in Gaza," and also admitting "tunnel warfare is dirty, complicated, costly and requires lengthy efforts and campaigns, not the short and swift operations upon which Israel’s military doctrine is built."

IOW, "go in and kill Hamas and destroy everything they have - but don't kill anybody else. Find a way to do it slower and smaller and neater, but still make sure you win."

It doesn't work that way. The tunnels are obviously boobytrapped, how are you supposed to order men in? The problem isn't expense, the problem is failure. Also a slow, prolonged ground campaign would require a lasting re-occupation, another lose-lose. Israel has purportedly been using the 2,000 pound bombs as bunker-busters to collapse the tunnels - maybe that's working, but it also kills the hell out of people on the surface, again part of the trap. I am disappointed that the IDF hadn't spent every waking hour the last decade building some technical gizmo that could make the tunnels uninhabitable, some kind of seismic or ultrasonic whatzit. I said a while back that I was in favor of flooding the tunnels and fixing the environmental consequences later. I've got messages in my inbox now urging me not to take that stance, that Israel should not be seen as "salting the earth," but it doesn't matter since it seems Israel isn't actually doing it, for whatever reason, so there's no point in a Tumblr blog taking a stance either way.

Tom Friedman is another useless Boomer leftover from the '90s and his "philosophy-of-cab-drivers" shtick is laughable, but he actually raised a good point here:

Netanyahu, I would argue, doesn’t want to win. He wants to be winning, OK, that is, he wants to be able to say, we’re winning. We’re winning. We’re winning. It’s just around the corner. But he doesn’t want to actually win because, if the war actually ends, two things are going to happen. Then he can no longer avoid what is the new political end state. And I believe there will be an eruption, a massive eruption, of Israeli anger at him that I hope and pray will drive him from power because I believe he is not only the worst leader in Israel’s history. I believe he’s the worst leader in Jewish history.

And that’s a long history. And what is Netanyahu’s calculation? It’s very simple. If he is not in power and has to face the conclusion of his trial and three corruption charges without the protection and influence that comes over the judiciary from being in power, he has a very good chance of going to jail. People forget. Israel jailed a president and a former prime minister. They’re not afraid to do that. And he does not want to go to jail. And he does not want to give up power.

And so this is a terrible situation where Israel is in a existential war, and its prime minister has basically dual loyalties, one to the state and one to himself. And at every turn, he is prioritizing himself.

I wish I could totally rule out the possibility that Netanyahu is going to try to drag this out until Trump's inauguration next year. I can't.

[lytmeowtif]

Calamari Inkantation is a Big Deal.

Splatoon 3's campaign has a WHOLE LOT of lore in it, a metric fuckload, and in there are some tidbits that make me really REALLY emotional. But one major facet of the backstory 3 introduces retroactively makes the climaxes of both Splatoon 1 and 2 resonate with me so, so much more.

This is gonna be super super detailed and has MAJOR spoilers for Splatoon 3's campaign, so don't click Read More until you've gotten all the logs! (except the postgame one, I haven't read it yet lol)

So. to get to Calamari Inkantation we first have to discuss literally all of the Alterna Logs and the backstory they present. Namely, we have to talk about the liquid crystals, and about humanity's desire for freedom.

The small pocket of humans that escape the effective end of the world take refuge and build their new home inside a flooded volcano crater. They survive by eating the sea life already living in that crater, particularly the squids and octopi. They manage to build a thriving society, and are safe in their cavernous home of Alterna. But they always long for more. They miss the outside world dearly.

They discover that they can make liquid crystals out of the body fluids of the cephalopods native to the crater's waters. When screens are made using those crystals, like modern LCD displays, they react to the thoughts and emotions of those near them. They set them up throughout the entire cavern, covering the walls and roof completely.

Those crystals could display anything, anything at ALL that humanity had on its mind. But the desire to return home to the surface is so strong - so overwhelming - that every single liquid crystal reacted to it and let them see the sky they longed for, the sky that they had been without for 25 long years.

Humanity of course fucks up, and the crystals all overload when humanity tries to escape their tunnel system via rocket and cave in almost everything, destroying Alternan society.

But their desire doesn't fade with them. Their desperate need to see the sky, their longing to escape out into the world again, is still stored in all those billions of liquid crystals which have now collapsed into the ocean. All that longing for freedom, all that desire to see the sun again, is now polluting the waters and over centuries is gradually absorbed into the sea life of Alterna.

Little-by-little, those desires become the desires of the squid and octopi and assorted sea creatures that live there, and they adapt. Their evolution is accelerated by their desperate need to see the sun and the sky.

Humanity never achieved their desire to escape the caves of Alterna. But their desperate longing was soaked up by the life of the sea, and the squid and octopi followed their new calling and found freedom. They absorbed the feelings and memory and hopes and fears of humanity and built an entire society just like the one that humans had left behind.

(From here I could diverge and talk about the tragic irony of Tartar wanting to eliminate inkling and octoling society for things that likely were also inherited from humans, but others have covered that ground.)

Instead I'm going to talk about humanity's desire for freedom, and about Calamari Inkantation.

Calamari Inkantation isn't just a really cool bop that everyone loves, written by the Squid Sisters. It borderline has magical powers; it dispels the last of Callie's mind control in Splatoon 2's story and is described as having "blown the hearts and minds" of anyone who witnessed it in Splatoon 1's finale. Marina heard it, said "This changes everything", vanished and immediately made for the surface. Agent 8 was similar, as Marina recounts:

DJ_Hyperfresh > I could tell right away that Agent 8 had also been touched by the Calamari Inkantation. DJ_Hyperfresh > Once our souls have been freed, there's no way we can continue to live under the oppression of Octarian society.

The parallels are there for sure, but how can we be sure of what's going on? This scroll from Splatoon 1:

"The customary chorus of Calamari County. Nowadays, this song and dance may as well be carved into the very DNA of all Inklings. It began as a way to celebrate and show respect for the bounty of the sea."

That heavenly melody that makes you wonder what's out there, and break past the artificial sky.

It's that same feeling, passed down for thousands of years. The longing of humanity, that desperation to escape their confines and see the sky, to break free!

It endured in Inklings and Octolings, for all of time, passed down in their blood and in their culture and song and dance, and that desire was so STRONG that hearing it in musical form was enough to bring those feelings flooding back to every Octarian and immediately make them defect and seek the surface world.

Humanity may be long gone, but their hopes and desires and dreams were so strong and rang so true that they live on even now, aeons later, withstanding the passage of time.

That's it. That's Calamari Inkantation.

#splatoon #splatoon 3 spoilers #calamari inkantation #splatoon lore #i just... FUCK #it makes me so emotional!!!

[etherealphosphor]

Bluebell

⟡ Contains: Dottore x Gn!Reader, Sfw, Angst to set the scene, Fluff otherwise, Dottore has amnesia, Reader is married to Dottore

You and Dottore had always been the envy of Snezhnaya, your relationship being quite the popular topic among its citizens. Everyone in the Fatui, from Cicin Mages to the Harbingers themselves, knew about your marriage. It was impossible to be out of the loop, as gossip spread like wildfire in the headquarters. Even if one were to live under a rock, the way Dottore looked at you with pure and unmistakable adoration was a dead giveaway.

For approximately a year, things were peaceful. You spent every day by Dottore’s side, and every night in his embrace. Until one fateful day, when one of Dottore’s experiments failed, and awfully so. The explosion could even be heard from the offices on the upper levels. You also worked in the headquarters, and your heart lurched in fear when you heard the loud bang.

Running down the stairs leading towards his lab, you could feel the panic setting in. There was nothing you could do to help, as Dottore never let you into his lab in fear of something happening to you. Your eyes began tearing up as you saw the walls of his lab completely collapsed, and your blue-haired husband trapped under the rubble. In the past, Dottore had made it very clear to his assistants that, in case of an emergency, they were to hold you back. They honored his request, and you could only watch in horror as the medical staff rushed in to save him, struggling against the arms keeping you from your beloved husband.

In the aftermath of the explosion, Dottore was rushed to the nearby hospital. You sat anxiously in the waiting room, tears streaming down your face. Your heart was beating faster than ever before as you silently prayed to the Tsaritsa to spare his life. Eventually, after what felt like hours, you were given permission to visit Dottore.

When you walked into Dottore’s hospital room, he was asleep on the bed, his chest and the top of his head mostly bandaged up. It pained you to see your husband like that, and as you sat down next to him, he began to slowly open his eyes.

"Darling?" You asked tentatively before reaching out and stroking his cheek.

Dottore looked up at you, his red eyes filled with confusion. "Sorry, who are you?"

Your worst nightmare had come true.

The months following the incident had been difficult; however, you were relieved to find that Dottore’s affection for you hadn’t disappeared. The hospital staff had informed you that there was indeed a small chance for him to regain some—if not all—of his memories. That possibility was like the light at the end of the tunnel for you, and no matter how long it would take, you vowed to help Dottore remember your past together. You swore to stay by him in sickness and in health, after all.

One night, as you lay in bed together, Dottore turned over to face you. "Love?"

"Yes darling? What is it?" You asked, a little worried that something might be wrong.

"I’m sorry that I can’t remember anything right now; it must really hurt you. My memories—they’re all so hazy. But I do recall how I felt, and I want you to understand that my feelings haven’t changed a bit." Dottore said, a comforting look in his eyes.

You smiled at him. "Dottore, you’ve reminded me of that nearly every night since you got back from the hospital. Don’t worry; I know you still love me, and I’m very glad to have you in my life."

"I know I’ve told you many times, but I feel like I need to assure you, or else you may fret about it." Dottore spoke softly, reaching out to stroke your hair.

"Love, I won’t. What’s most important right now is that you get a good night’s sleep. Tell you what, I’ll take you to where we first met tomorrow morning; maybe it’ll help your memory a little."

Dottore smiled at your words and nodded. "That’d be great." He paused for a second before hesitantly asking, ".. may I hold you?"

Something about his strangely shy tone evoked an odd feeling in your chest. Even after all the years you spent together with him, he still found new ways to stir the butterflies in your stomach. Without even answering his question, you wrapped your arms around his body, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

Dottore gently put a hand on the top of your head, calmly stroking your hair. The warmth of your husband’s skin and the rhythm of his heart made you slowly drift off to sleep. No matter how difficult things got, you’d always have him.

When you woke up in the morning, Dottore was still sleeping soundly next to you, a peaceful look on his face. Your eyes fell to the scars on his chest left by the accident, a constant reminder of the time you nearly lost him. Despite all of Dottore’s strength as the Second of the Fatui Harbingers, one mistake could have ended his life.

Your mind began to race at the possibilities of what could have happened if even one little factor had been changed. Would he not be lying next to you right now if he’d been even a foot closer to the explosion?

Unconsciously, you reached out to touch those rough patches on his skin, accidentally rousing him from his sleep. Your breathing was a little shallow as your brain spiraled. Despite just waking up, Dottore instantly recognized your distress and pulled you into his arms.

"Darling, can you breathe deeply for me? Hyperventilating will only make you feel worse." Dottore said softly as he stroked your back, trying to soothe your anxiety.

After about a minute, your breathing slowed down with much encouragement from Dottore. His gentle words and touch grounded you; he was here, not back in the accident. And he never would be, because things were okay now.

"I’m sorry for waking you, Love. I was just overthinking again; that’s all." You spoke quietly, with a tinge of guilt in your voice.

Picking up on it, Dottore began to reassure you. "It’s not your fault for being anxious, [Name]. What happened back then was very traumatic for you; it’d leave a lasting impact on anyone. So don’t apologize to me for anything; you don’t need to. Plus, I don’t need to sleep in any longer than I did; if you’re feeling that way again, please don’t hesitate to ask me for help, even if I’m asleep."

Dottore knew exactly what to say to calm your mind; he always had. Cuddling up next to him once more, you breathed in his scent as he brushed through your hair with his fingers.

"We should get ready soon, darling. I promised to take you to where we first met, after all."

"Don’t feel obligated to; if you’d prefer to stay at home today, that’s fine." Dottore said as he continued to run his fingers through your hair.

"I want to go as well, Dottore. My offer to take you still stands." You assured him as you began to get out of bed.

Once you two had gotten ready, you led Dottore out of the house. Due to losing his memories, Dottore was unfamiliar with the streets he once knew so well, so you had to show him the way.

After a short stroll through the main city of Snezhnaya, you stopped at a large building made from grey stone bricks of varying lengths and shades.

Reading the sign on the front of it, Dottore asked, "We met at the library?"

"Yeah, we did. It was by pure coincidence that I even talked to you in the first place." You replied with a soft smile on your face. It had been so long since that day, and oh, how things had changed.

Hand in hand, you brought Dottore into the library and up the stairs to the second floor. You led him over to a small reading corner surrounded by large windows, which contained a singular round wooden table with two plush chairs on either side. A strong sense of deja vu washed over Dottore as he walked closer to the room.

You motioned for him to sit down, then took your own place next to the table. You gazed fondly around the room for a brief moment, before resting your eyes on your husband, who sat in front of you.

"I was sitting in this very chair when we had our first conversation." You paused, thinking back on that day. "You know, I was scared of you at first."

"You were... scared of me? Why?" Dottore asked with a confused look on his face.

You chuckled. "Darling, have you forgotten you’re ranked second out of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers? Of course I was terrified."

"[Name], I’ve been reminded of what my title entails, but nothing of the reputation it holds." Dottore explained. "What exactly do you mean?"

"Let’s just say... You were a very intimidating man back then. Everyone who didn’t know you properly fled in terror when they saw you."

"Really? Have people changed how they view me since the accident?"

"Not exactly; you’ve kept your status and title, after all. That’s what people are afraid of."

Dottore thought that over for a minute, then hesitantly asked, "Love, was I wrong to you in the past?"

Surprised by his words, you responded, "Archons no, what would make you think that?"

"You kept saying how frightening I was back then—and how I apparently still am. I can’t help but worry that I did something awful to you."

You reached out to gently stroke Dottore’s cheek, assuring him. "Oh, darling, I’m sorry I didn’t make it more clear. I don’t think you’re any of those things. Sure, back when we first met, I was scared by your title like everyone else. But as we got acquainted, I saw a different side of you, one which was nothing like the man the public viewed you as."

"I’m glad." Dottore paused, before asking, "Could you possibly tell me about the day we met, since we’re here?"

"Of course, I’d be happy to." You continued, "It was a particularly gloomy day, and a heavy blanket of snow covered the ground—the amount being more than it usually was. Despite all of that, I couldn’t stand being inside; I instead decided to go out into the storm. Many of the buildings and stores in the city were closed, but the library wasn’t."

"Oh dear, I hope you didn’t freeze to death; Snezhnaya is already a harsh place as it is." Dottore said softly.

"You worry too much, my love. I was perfectly fine." You replied, assuring him.

"Alright, I’m simply making sure. Isn’t that what a husband ought to do?"

"Darling, that happened six years ago." You chuckled, but you could feel your heart fluttering at his concern.

"Well, I’m still going to express my worry regardless of how much time has passed, and that’s final." Dottore smiled at you, before saying, "anyway, please go on. I’d love to hear the rest of the story."

That smile of his only made your heart beat faster. "As I said, the library wasn’t closed, so I decided to head over to warm up inside. After all, I went there a lot back then to relax. Coincidentally, when I climbed up the stairs, you were there, sitting in my usual spot.

"When I saw the Second Harbinger himself seated in that chair, I really did consider turning around and walking all the way back to my apartment through the deep snow. However, hearing my footsteps, you looked up from your book towards me. Once you’d sensed my presence, I figured there was no turning back. After all, it would’ve been highly disrespectful to run the opposite way when you looked at me.

"So, despite my shaking legs, I made my way over and sat down across from you. Despite having your mask on, I knew you were looking directly at me. Though terrified, I attempted to make small talk to fill the silence. That small talk turned into a full conversation, and then another, and another; we barely realized how late it was, and we were only alerted to the time when it had gotten quite dark outside. You gently took my hand in yours and walked me home to make sure I was safe, only bidding me farewell when I was at my door."

Dottore silently listened to your story, smiling softly as you finished telling it. "I wish I could remember that day; it sounded like it was a truly lovely one."

Noticing the slight falter in Dottore’s smile as he said that, you gave him a quick kiss. "It’s okay, darling. Don’t fret; we’ll make many more beautiful memories together in the future. Anywhere you want to go, I’ll take you."

Without another word, Dottore stood up and pulled you into his arms, fully picking you up off the ground.

"I—wha—what are you doing?" You stuttered, quite flustered as well as a little confused.

"Taking you home, like I did back then." He simply said.

"Darling, you held my hand to lead me back to my apartment. You didn’t carry me!" You replied, chuckling.

Dottore continued walking, his grip on you firm yet comfortable. "Hm, well, I prefer it this way. So I will have it this way."

You sighed, nuzzling closer to him. "You’ve always been like this, and I love you for it."

That night, you couldn’t bear to leave Dottore’s embrace for even a second. Comforted by his scent and the warmth of his skin, you drifted off peacefully. For a moment, it was easy to forget that the accident had ever happened. He still held you the exact same way as he used to, after all. Some things truly never change.

When Dottore woke up the next morning, he noticed that you weren’t cuddled up next to him as you usually were. "[Name]..? Where—"

"I’m right here, darling. Don’t worry." Just then, you walked into the room, holding a mug in both hands.

Dottore looked at you as you sat down on the bed next to him, his tone still a little sleepy. "What’s in the mug?"

"It’s coffee; you’ll like it. I swear." You said, offering it to him.

Dottore hesitated, unsure. "I don’t want to take something you made for yourself."

"No, no. Darling, I made it for you." You chuckled, smiling at him.

"You did?" Dottore looked a little surprised. "You’re too sweet, darling. Are you suggesting I drink it because I liked it back then?" Dottore took the cup, staring at its contents.

"You’re right, my love. It used to be your favorite."

The drink was as dark as the abyss, and smelled quite strongly. Dottore put the mug to his lips, and tentatively took a sip. Instantly, his eyes lit up, and he drank nearly half the cup.

Dottore’s expression made your heart skip a beat. He looked so happy to be experiencing his drink of choice for the first time again.

Dottore then downed the rest of the cup, and looked up at you with a sparkle in his deep red eyes. "Darling, could you make me another? Or, even better, teach me how to make such a lovely drink?"

"Love, if I teach you, you’ll make yourself crazy. Too much caffeine can give you anxiety. However, I'm sure another cup won’t hurt you." You smiled at him, and then walked out of the room to brew him another drink.

Day after day, Dottore woke up with you in his arms, and each morning, you made him coffee for him to have with breakfast. Life had been very lovely, but there had been little to no progress in recovering any of Dottore’s memories.

Even so, you refused to give up.

One evening, when Dottore had gotten back from work, you seemed quite eager to show him something.

"Darling, quick, follow me!" You said, grabbing his hand and pulling him upstairs.

Although Dottore was a little dazed at your enthusiasm, he followed you to the second floor of the house. "What is it, my love? Do you have something to show me?"

You dragged him over to a window in the bedroom and began to unlock it. Once you were done, you pushed it open and began to climb out onto the roof, leading Dottore along with you.

"[Name], are you sure this is safe? I wouldn’t want you to get hurt." Dottore said as he carefully stepped out, holding onto you tightly.

"Actually, coming up here was your idea in the first place. Back then, at least." You replied, sitting down on the roof, dangling your legs over the edge.

Dottore sat down next to you. "Even so, you need to be careful, darling."

Ignoring his words, you nudged him and pointed up at the sky. "Look."

As the sun began to set, the clouds were dusted with a beautiful pink color, painting a stunning picture. Dottore was not particularly intrigued by beautiful landscapes, but even he was enamored by such a scene. Especially if his beloved was watching it with him.

While Dottore was gazing at the sky, you pulled a small bunch of bluebell flowers out of a pocket in your coat, and extended your arm to offer the gift to him.

Noticing the sweet smell, he looked down and saw the pretty blue blossoms in your hand.

"..Are these for me..?" Dottore spoke, a blush rising in his cheeks.

You nodded, smiling gently. "They are. Back then, you loved to give me bluebells on any occasion you could."

Dottore closed his eyes and put the flowers to his nose, breathing in the scent. Suddenly, his eyes shot open, and he turned to face you. "Darling? Did I.. did I ask you to marry me up here?"

You looked at him in surprise. "Y—you remember?"

Dottore’s deep red eyes were shining with happy tears. "I do! I remember!"

Dottore wrapped his arms around you, and kissed you deeply. Draping your arms around his neck, you reciprocated his passion, letting yourself melt into his embrace.

Unexpectedly, Dottore pinned you down, and pushed your head to one side. Softly, he began to bite your neck all over, sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine. Oh Archons, he knew how to drive you crazy.

"Darling, didn’t you say to be careful? Aren’t you afraid we might fall?" You teased, a little out of breath.

Pausing for a moment, Dottore replied, "I would never allow you to fall."

Dottore moved his face away from your neck, instead pressing his lips to yours once more. He tilted your chin up as he fervently kissed you over and over, pouring all his love into the act.

The sun had long ago set when you two finally climbed back through the window.

In bed, Dottore pulled you into his arms, and whispered in your ear, "Sweet dreams, my lovely Bluebell."

"Found a new petname for me, huh?"

"Indeed, it suits you. You’re sweet-smelling, pretty, and you help me get my memories back." Dottore said softly.

You chuckled. "Where in the world did you ever learn to be this charming?"

Yet again, you spent the rest of the night cuddled up next to him, sleeping soundly. His body next to yours was something you were forever grateful for, and you hoped you’d never have to sleep alone again, like you did when he was being treated all those months ago.

You slept, knowing there was hope. Maybe, one day in the future, Dottore would truly recall all those years you spent together. But for now, one memory is enough.

#dottore x gender neutral reader #dottore x gn reader #dottore fluff #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact fanfics #genshin x you #dottore x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x gn!reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin x y/n #dottore angst