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calpalirwin · 3 years

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Let The Walls Break Down

Summary: Calum gets over his skepticism

Word Count: 2.7k

And away, and away we go!

“It’s almost impossible. Love sucks. Don’t try it. It’s a scam.”

That had been Calum’s general thoughts on relationships since the two of you called it quits. The “almost” bit was in admittance that 1.) your relationship had been amicable from start to finish, in fact the two of you were still close with each other, and 2.) he knew love worked for some people, however he didn’t view himself as one of those some.

Being close to Calum post breakup meant you had a front row seat to the man’s brief stints at romance, which was a nice way of saying “endless stream of one night stands.” The flip side was he had a front row seat to your own count of nameless men. While in the beginning, the others in your friend group joked in hushed tones that it was an act on both your parts to stir up jealousy, the longer it went on without any animosity building up between you and Calum, the more the whispers died down until they disappeared all together. Because the simple truth was that the one night stands were just about sex. After all, you and Calum had learned together that the two of you were too busy for anything more than casual sex. A lesson both of you considered well-learned until Michael got engaged and flipped everything into a new perspective.

“It’s not that I don’t believe in love,” you said after Crystal recounted all the details and you stopped squealing in excitement for her. “I mean, anyone who sees you and Michael has to believe it’s real.”

“Aw, Y/N,” Crystal blushed shyly.

You laughed, “I’m serious. You and Michael. Luke and Sierra. Ashton and Kaykay. I’m surrounded with reasons to believe love exists. The real ‘can’t imagine my life without you’ kind of love. But for me?” You waved a hand dismissively. “Pfft, nah.”

“Because you don’t believe he’s out there for you, or because you already had him and the timing was wrong?” she pressed suggestively.

You rolled your eyes. Right person, wrong time was the excuse you had given when asked when you and Calum split, because to you, it was the closest thing to the truth. “Okay…” you started slowly. “Of course I loved Cal. And I still love him now. But when we were together… We were kids who were focused on our careers. And we’re still those career-driven kids. Understanding the balance between professional life and personal life without feeling like we’re sacrificing a piece of it for another was something Cal and I will never master. We tried. I thought if I could find that balance with anyone, it would be with him. But it wasn’t. And that’s okay. I’m fulfilled in other ways.”

“But…” Crystal kept trying to press.

“But nothing,” you laughed. “I’m happy with my life the way it is, Crys. And beyond happy for you and Michael. You’re getting married!”

~~~

Across town in a celebration of their own, Calum was under similar fire. “Happy for ya, mate,” Calum said, clapping Michael on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Cal,” Michael beamed. “I think I’m still in shock from all of it.”

“I think that’s probably a natural feeling,” Ashton told him, playing the voice of reason. “It’s an exciting change that pulls things into sharper focus.”

“Yeah, like all I wanna do now is tell Sierra how much I love her,” Luke put in.

“Oh, you fuckin’ sap,” Calum laughed.

“Just because you’ve never been in love…”

“I have too!” Calum defended.

“Oh, really? Who?”

“Y/N, idiot…” Ashton told Luke with a roll of his eyes.

Luke nodded in a “Oh, yeah!” fashion, before going on, “Is she the only girl you ever loved?”

“Yep.”

“So why aren’t you still with her?”

Calum shrugged. “Timing was off. And we haven’t changed. So why would the timing have suddenly changed?” The question was rhetorical, without the slightest hint of hurt. A simple fact of life, nothing less, nothing more. A fact Calum had made peace with long before.

“So what? You’re fine with the greatest love of your life being over 2 years ago?” they questioned anyway.

He shrugged again. “Have been for a while, in case ya haven’t noticed. And no,” he raised a hand, cutting off any protest, “this isn’t a bitter, ‘oh convince me otherwise’ deal. Y/N and I are both more than happy with the lives we’re living.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I talk with her, and I trust she’s telling me the truth…”

“Alright, alright,” Ashton was willing to let the conversation rest, but he had one last question. “Is there any part of you that would want to try again with Y/N?”

A third and final shrug. “I mean, she was the only one I ever saw a future with aside from the band.”

“That has to mean something, Cal. C’mon. If there was ever a time to give love a chance, it’s now.”

~~~

While Calum’s head raced with his friends' words of encouragement, if he could call it that, yours raced with thoughts of feeling like you somehow failed in life. Sure, your career was everything you wanted it to be and more. You wouldn’t trade a single moment of your life for anything else. But now that your friends were clearly doing more than simple dating, the doubt started to trickle in. Would it be nice to share a life with someone? Absolutely. But not at the risk of your own independence. And the only person who had ever proven that you could maybe have the best of both worlds was Calum. And even that hadn’t worked. But maybe there was something to Crystal’s words about it being a case of bad timing. Maybe it was worth another try.

So that’s where you found yourself, sitting on the edge of your bed, sharing at Calum’s contact, finger hovering over the call icon, trying to figure out where and how to start again with the man. And then your phone was buzzing in your hand, and you gasped. Had you accidentally hit the call button?! No. Calum was calling you. Confused, you hit accept. “Hey, Cal. What’s up?”

“Not much. Just had a quick question for ya.”

“Well I might have a quick answer for ya.”

You heard his soft chuckle and then a brief pause as he cleared his throat, and you knew he was pushing a hand through his hair, stemming whatever nerves this “question” was creating. “You got any dinner plans for Friday?”

“No. Why?”

“There’s this new place I’ve been wanting a try, and you know how I am about eating out alone. And it’s been a minute since just the two of us hung out. So I’ll pick you up at 7?”

You gave a small laugh at the rushed excuse, wondering what he was really up to. “Sure thing, Cal.”

“Cool. Oh, and uh, dress in something nice-ish? The restaurant’s kinda uppity.”

Another small laugh. “Alright, Cal. See you Friday then.”

~~~

“It’s just dinner. It’s just Cal,” you told your reflection as you finished getting ready. “Nothing you haven’t done a million times before,” you kept trying to calm the butterflies in the pit of your stomach. While you had a pretty good idea on what this dinner really was, you didn’t want to get your hopes up that Calum was having the same change of heart that you’d been having. The man really did hate eating alone at restaurants, and if the place was as upscale as he had told you, then it made sense that he’d rather bring you along than Ashton. And he had been right about it being a good while since it was just the two of you spending time together rather than a larger group outing.

But when Calum knocked on your door rather than texting that he was in your driveway, you couldn’t stop the blush coloring your cheeks. And when you opened the door to reveal the man on the other side, dressed sharply with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand, you felt your heart skip a beat. “Oh, Cal,” you breathed. “You didn’t have to do that,” you told him, taking the flowers and moving to put them in a vase of water.

“It’s how you deserve to be treated,” he said simply with a shrug as he leaned against your doorway.

“You’re too sweet to me, Hood,” you teased lightly. “Ready?”

“After you.”

When he went as far as to get the car door for you, you had to laugh. “Okay, Hood. What gives?”

“I told you. I’m treating you the way you deserve to be treated.”

“Nah, there’s more. I can tell. C’mon. Spill it,” you pressed when he got in the driver’s seat. “Flowers. Getting the door. Dinner at a place that requires me to dress like this. You’re up to something.”

“You look stunning, by the way,” he said, reaching over to give your thigh a squeeze.

“Calum Thomas Hood.”

He sighed. “We were good, right? Like when we were together? It’s not my memory playing tricks on me?”

“You were the best boyfriend I ever had,” you answered honestly.

He nodded. “Okay. You’re not allowed to make fun of me. But since Mike got engaged, it’s gotten to me a bit. Almost like I’m missing out on something, but it’s weird because my life is already everything I want it to be. So what could I possibly be missing out on, you know?”

“Why would I make fun of you for that?”

“Because it’s a stupid ass reason to take you on a date.”

“Oh, is that what this is? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Ha-ha,” he deadpanned. “Look, I guess what I’m saying is, recent events made me reevaluate things in my life. And I think I’m in a better position than I was a few years ago to be a real partner to someone. And even when I wasn’t that person, you were the only one I could see myself becoming that person for. So… if you’re up for it, I’d really like for us to try again.”

Underneath the streetlight casting him in a soft reddish hue, he turned his head slightly to look over at you, brown eyes hopeful and solemn. When the light turned green, he turned his attention back to the road, but kept stealing glances over at you, still waiting for your response.

“I guess it’s only fair to let you know that I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

The corner of his mouth curved up in a smile. “Really?”

“Really,” you said with a soft smile and a small nod of your head. “I was actually hoping this was more on the date side than the friends grabbing a bite to eat side.”

“Good, because this is definitely a date.”

“Good,” you nodded again before leaning across the center console to press a kiss to his cheek, grinning as warmth spread across his face.

~3 Years Later~

You startled awake at a phone ringing nearby, a tangled mess of limbs and bedsheets. “Mmm?” Calum rasped, voice heavy with sleep as he answered the phone, followed by a quick, “Whoa, mate, stop yelling. You did what now?” There was a small pause as whoever was on the other end of the conversation spoke in a rapid flurry that you couldn’t decipher. “You did?!” Calum clarified whatever the news was, sitting up straight in bed, your head falling from his chest to his lap.

“Ow…” you giggled, shifting to sit up against the headboard like Calum was.

“Sorry,” Calum mouthed, listening intently to whoever he was still talking to, raising a finger for you to give him a minute when you raised an eyebrow in silent question. “That’s fuckin’ great, Luke! Congrats to the both of you. Lemme know what the plans are for celebrating and give Sierra a hug from me in the meantime, yeah? Alright. Talk to ya later, mate. Bye.”

“Well?” you demanded.

“Luke and Sierra are getting married. Or he proposed anyway, and she said yes.”

“Oh, that’s great!”

“Yeah, I’m really happy for them. Wow… first Mike, now Luke. We really aren’t the same kids we used to be, are we?”

“I think in some respect you guys still are. You still cling to those roots of who you used to be, the things that shaped you into the people you are now. But you guys are also growing up, too. It happens, Cal.”

“Yeah, no, I just… Wow. It’s not something I really pay much attention to, us growing up, until something like this happens.”

“The last time one of your band members got engaged, you got a case of feeling like you weren’t measuring up somehow. You’re not feeling that way now, are you?”

“No. Not at all. In fact… Luke said something when Mike told us he got engaged. That he wanted to go tell Sierra how much he loved her.”

“Aw, that’s really sweet.”

“Yeah, and at the time I made fun of him for it. But… I dunno… I get it. This type of shit really shifts things into perspective.”

“I mean, yeah. Last time it resulted in both of us thinking we should try being an ‘us’ again. What’s the perspective shifting to this time? You’re not gonna go out, and buy a ring, are you?”

“No, I already have one in my sock drawer.”

You choked. “What?”

He climbed out of bed with a laugh, making his way to the dresser and rummaging around in one of the top drawers. Then, something small was soaring through the air as he tossed whatever it was onto the bed towards you. “Told ya,” he said simply, as you grabbed the small box, popping the lid to find a ring inside.

“How long have you had this?” you asked, your voice a small whisper.

“Uh… 2016 I think,” he said as he rejoined you in bed.

“So, since the first time we dated?”

“Yep.”

“Calum!”

“What?” he laughed. “I told you our entire relationship, both then and now, that you’re the only person I see a future with. Did you think I was lying?”

“No! I- I just didn’t know you went so far as to get a ring, and keep it for 5 bloody years.”

“Well, it would have been a little weird if you had it all these years, considering… ya know.”

You laughed in a mix of disbelief and shock. “You are absolutely crazy.”

“I’m not actually proposing, you know that, yeah? I mean, yes, the ring is yours. But only if you want it to be. I love the life we have together, more so than I thought I could love any other version of my life. I never feel like I’m stuck in place, or missing something when I’m with you. I’ll be just as happy if you never wear that ring, as I would if you wore it every day for the rest of your life. You, me, Duke, and music is all I’m ever gonna need in life. I’ve known it since the first time I said I love you. Even in those years we thought chasing our careers was more important, you were still the only person I’ve ever been in love with.”

“Calum…” you breathed, your lip trembling.

“Shh, if you want the whole deal of the proposal and the picture perfect wedding, I’ll give that to you gladly. That’s what the ring’s for. But if you’re content with what we have now, this will always be enough for me, and that’s a promise.”

“I don’t want a proposal only because Luke and Sierra made you extra sentimental. I don’t want to take their moment away from them either.”

“That ring has been yours far longer than any extra sentiment our friends getting engaged could stir up, but I get what you’re saying. If/when you want it, say the word.”

“Ask me again in a year,” you decided. “And I mean really ask me. The whole deal.”

“I can’t fuckin’ wait,” he murmured as his lips crashed into yours, his hands cupping your face. “I’m so in love with you. Always have been. Always will be.”

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#let the walls break down #calum hood #calum hood fic #calum hood x reader #5sos #calpal irwin

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proudfreakmetarusonniku · 3 years

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(/rp! also, huge trigger warning for assault, graphic violence, death, abuse, possessive behaviour, obsession, mental breaks, hallucination, really fucking creepy treatment of a corpse, unreliable narrators, the perspective of a villain, torture, manipulation, and gaslighting! this gets pretty fucked up).

When Dream sees Tommy for the first time, there is no dramatic shift, no acknowledgement that his life had changed forever. No knowledge of the fact. All he sees is a skinny little kid who's obnoxious and loud, and he catalogues him just as one of Philza’s strays and leaves it at that.

No, it’s when Tommy drives the sword into his chest for the first time, and Dream wakes up from his non-canon death smiling despite itself when it clicks. He’s not sure what “it” is, exactly, but it’s just something about him Dream hadn’t seen in anyone before that has him hooked, captivated from the beginning.

(There's the vague recollection that he was like Tommy once, a bright eyed naive youth too loud for his own good, but that’s not unique. It’s not that, at least not entirely.)

The conflict was not started by Tommy, nor was he of any particular threat to Dream, but he was fun. So he ignored the rest, and took the boy's music discs. He knew Tommy well enough that he’d fight for them, and fight he did, and even though Dream lost in the end he laughed all the while. He’d played many a game before, but none quite this fun!

They both know this isn’t where it’ll end. Only one hopes it will be.

——

Dream didn’t care much about Wilbur's little revolutionary movement at first. As long as he obeyed the rules, and stayed in the server, it wouldn’t matter whether he delusionally thought he was under his own governance or not.

This changed immediately when he learnt Tommy was involved.

L'Manburg, a name he didn’t bother to remember until he learnt Tommy named it, was tiny, barely any more than a scavenged old world vehicle and some trees. It’s populace was peaceful, only Wilbur even an adult. None of that mattered. It wasn’t that the nation was a threat, though he certainly wouldn’t dissuade his friends fear that it was. But fighting L'Manburg meant fighting Tommy, and Dream wouldn't pass up the opportunity for anything.

He grinned with glee behind his mask as he blew Tommy's strange dirt hovel “embassy” sky high, enthusiastically threatened Tommy before remembering half heartedly to threaten the rest of the nation. He made dealings, found weak links- a new immigrant to the SMP that joined L'Manburg after the war began, it turns out. He offered extravagant promises in exchange for their betrayal, hiding the strings attached to his fingers.

Oh, but it was all worth it when the person with the eyes of an old god lead the revolutionaries into a trap, all worth it when they descended on them at once. It was definitely worth it to kill Tommy, kill Tommy, see him scream and cry in pain and stumble trying to escape and him taking a shuddering last breath. Dream had never seen anything as beautiful.

(It was a war, and feelings like this were okay in wars, right? It’s not like he was obsessed, it’s not like he was a monster. He’d been trying to be good, and killing your enemies was good, right?)

He killed Tommy a second time, too. The boy with shaking hands and a leg hanging limp challenged him to a duel for his nations future. His loss was assured, and Dream knew Tommy knew that also. This one was quicker, Tommy dead between the arrow entering his skull and his broken body make a loud thud against the planks, but it was no less fascinating. If only he had infinite canon lives, Dream would happily give up any ambitions and spend eternity seeing the boy die in so many fascinating ways.

(No, what the fuck was he thinking? The SMP was worth more than some stupid kid, and Dream wasn’t so inept with morality to know torturing someone over and over, killing them, was wrong.)

(Yet, it was so tempting he was almost ready to renounce morality wholeheartedly.)

It eventually comes to the discs again, Tommy handing Dream his prized possessions for some silly little nation. Dream knew Tommy would do anything to get them back. Having so much control was addicting, even more than control of anything else. Dream had learnt long ago that if you didn’t have complete power over anything, people would take the power from you and make you hurt.

So why did he care more about control of some kid than avoiding his own pain?

——

Dream would have sided with Tommy. Really, he would have, but Schlatt just had the better deal.

He holds the book in his hands, power filling him. He repeats the incantation, sacrifices the blood from his veins. He stares into the face of a man near-identical.

“”Brother dearest,”” he says, voice level. “”What do you wish of me?””

Dream grins behind his mask. “”Tommy.””

—

Wishes must come true, Dream thinks, as he sits on the beach of Logstedshire, Tommy passed out and leaning against his arm.

Oh, what he’d give for this moment to last forever. Alas, it passes, like they all do. Still, Tommy's getting so obedient lately- barely even grumbling as he threw his item into the hole. Part of him missed when Tommy would fight back all the while- his pained screams were entertaining. Still, it was safer this way, and more enjoyable in the long run. He’d hate to have his little songbird break it’s neck against the cage doors, never to sing again.

He’s not sure when life outside of Tommy became a chore, but he remembers dimly that it wasn’t always like that. There was a Dream long ago that wouldn’t give up friends and family, who'd cry over losing them even if he’d cut their threads voluntarily. He wasn’t that Dream anymore, the numb feeling in his chest a sign of growth. It didn’t matter that everything outside of Tommy was so miserable, because just being around the boy was a feeling a hundredfold better than any happiness he felt before.

Still, he had duties and responsibilities. Ones that seemed so important long ago, so fulfilling. Maybe one day they’d feel like that again. He had plans, from what he learnt. Government had not left him satisfied, but- whatever you could call what his relationship with Tommy was, it definitely did. Family, he supposed, recognising the boys actions towards him and his brothers. If he could make the entire server like that, that’d be a happiness greater than any other, apart from how Tommy made him feel.

He spent time with Tubbo, getting further and further towards getting that stupid fucking ram boy to calling him a friend and giving him Tommy's disc, all he wanted from him.

(He wasn’t jealous, of course he wasn’t. The anger he felt whenever Tommy called Tubbo a friend, that wasn’t jealousy. That was just logical).

Far more interesting was checking on the prison's completion. When it’s completed, it’d truly be a thing of beauty. Of course, his favourite part was the main cell, that he’d put so much thought into. He’d included all the little things that made Tommy squirm, made his breath hitch and eyes dart around fearfully. That would be so much fun.

(Tommy would learn to appreciate the fun in time, too. He was a smart boy, if irritatingly yet fascinatingly stubborn. He just needed to be taught that if he listened and just played along, Dream could give him the world.)

It took far too long, but eventually it finished, and he could return to the ugly mess of tents and logs he’d made so sure Tommy could never leave. He always started shaking when Dream showed up, trying desperately to hide his fear in his voice, and it was absolutely adorable. Dream savoured it, savoured everything about Tommy as they spent hours talking. Everything, his hysterical laugh, his nervous glances for escapes, the way he flinched whenever Dream grabbed his shoulder, his wrist, the poorly hidden look of pain when he held tighter, just hard enough to irritate the bruises that painted his skin a canvas of black and blue, it was all perfect.

Only he could love Tommy this much, and in time he knew Tommy would learn to appreciate that.

——

The second time he used the book, a tower extended from the ruins of the makeshift prison he’d made for Tommy. DreamXD stated ahead of him.

“”Brother dearest,” he said, “why are you calling on me again so soon?””

“”Bring him back,”” he said, voice painfully numb.

DreamXD shrugged a shoulder, golden hair waving around like in water. “”Who?””

“”Tommy.””

“”I cannot,”” DreamXD said. “”He lives.”” Dream couldn’t help but smile at hearing that.

“”Then bring him back to me.””

DreamXD laughed, a sound like church bells. “”That would be unnecessary. Did I not already grant you the mortal?””

Dream clenched his fist hard enough blood dripped onto scorched earth. “”He left me-“”

“”And you shall find him, no matter what.”” DreamXD smiled under the mask. “”You are bonded to him, and neither death nor distance shall break that. Just look, and you will find him, til the end of time and even past.””

“”Thank you,”” Dream said, genuinely for once.

“”Only the best for my little brother and sister. And I know you would do the same for us, brother dearest.””

——

His planning had come to fruition for once.

They were alone, in the depths of the Earth, just him, Tommy, the fucking hilarious excuse for a “president” Tommy called a friend for some reason, and his axe.

Finally, he could bring his dreams to fruition. He could get rid of any loose threads, and claim what was rightfully his. And once he’d taught Tommy to be grateful, he could get to work on the rest of the server.

It’d be beautiful. Everyone would be his friend, his brother, his sister, something in between. There would be no more wars, just peace. Everyone would be safe, he’d know they’re safe and they’d never rip him to pieces and laugh at his pain. And oh, it’d like be hard work, breaking everyone into obedience but not too much to the point they become boring, but so enjoyable and satisfying. He’d almost be disappointed when it was over.

Tommy- his Tommy, his Tommy, was crying, and it was amusing but he almost wanted to reach out and comfort him and explain it’d all be for the best. He’d do that later, once he’d secured him and any loose ends were gone forever. He couldn’t afford weakness until they were alone, but Tommy made it so tempting.

The ram and Tommy hugged a final goodbye, and the adoration he had towards Tommy, hiding his fear behind a smile, made Dream fucking sick. He should know Tommy was his. They all should know. He’d teach them, when he made the server a perfect family. Even Tubbo, if Tommy begged enough. Dream would do anything to hear Tommy's pathetic, gorgeous begging, breaking through his aggressive walls, and bringing back some random sheep was easily in his brother's power.

See, he could be kind. He wasn’t cruel, he wasn’t a monster. He didn’t even care if he was anymore, fun was so much more important than nonsensical human concepts, but it wasn’t even true. He could be incredibly, selflessly kind, as long as he had a reason. They’d learn, once he fulfilled his dream.

The sound of a nether portal, of betrayal, shatters his dreams and at this point he wonders why he’s surprised.

——

He’d had doubts, during the weeks (months, years? he had no way of knowing) he’d been trapped in the cell, but Tommy being here with him confirmed his design was excellent.

Oh, Tommy was being fucking obnoxious- and Dream knew he was doing it on purpose- but he saw it in the way he never was able to look at the lava properly, the way he always woke up in a cold sweat calling for his daddy like the child he insisted he wasn’t. It was perfect.

(Of course it was, though. It’s not hard to build on something already perfected, and Tommy was the perfect little toy.)

Tommy was so frustratingly different though. He tried not to take it out on him- it wasn’t his fault that everyone else spread lies, planted nonsense in his head about Dream being bad and not trying to do the best for everyone but especially for him- but he struggled sometimes, and it was always so tempting to hurt Tommy anyway, and get lost in the melody of his screams. It wouldn’t teach Tommy anything though, and that’s what was important. He needed to teach Tommy what was best for him.

Tommy had unlearnt all the lessons Dream painstakingly taught him. That wouldn’t be an issue- it was so, so fun to teach- but he knew, painfully deep down in his heart that he could not hold Tommy forever, not yet. The lockdown wasn’t forever, and Dream had no escape route yet. Tommy would just forget everything again, at the hands of his “friends” that couldn’t love him as much as Dream did. They needed to learn far more than Tommy did.

(Except Ranboo of course- oh, the purple eyed boy had the silly naive thoughts in his head everyone seemed to have that friendship was anything but possessing another, but he agreed family came first, listened to Dream, helped him, even with clenched teeth.)

And when one day the frustration got to Dream one day and he was so furious he hit Tommy again and again against the walls of the prison and strangled him until he was cold all he could do was laugh and laugh and laugh.

It was so, so funny, because of course he’d be the one to destroy everything he loved.

——

This time, when DreamXD is called, he looks upon his brother with concern.

“”Brother dearest,”” he says, “”are you quite alright?””

Dream laughs, because of course he’s alright! The tears staining his face must be joy, because of course he’s alright. He’s holding Tommy here, with him, and he was quiet, he must be listening. He can’t be dead, he can’t be, then there’d be no point to any of this.

“”Drista has been concerned for you for quite a while, you know,”” DreamXD continued. “”Is this because of your mortal?””

“”He’s been ever so quiet lately,”” Dream said, with a voice hoarse from crying and laughter. “”I’m not sure to be concerned or happy with him.””

“”You’re not well, Dream.”” DreamXD said, with a tone of finality despite clearly being wrong. “”The boy is dead.””

Dream laughs. “”And yet he does not slip from my grasp.””

“”Then, brother, why did you call me?””

The silence pierces through air like a knife. Eventually, through hiccuping sobs, Dream says “”Just, please, bring him back.””

Tommy sputters to life with ghostly eye and pure white streaks and more bruise on him than corpselike skin and Dream thinks he has never been more perfect.

——

Quackity's left, he thinks, because the pain's stopped growing.

He laughs, because he doesn’t know what to fucking do anymore but laugh. He can’t give up the secrets of the book, of course he can’t. Family comes first, after all, and he dreads to think what the bastard would do to his brother. But the pain was awful, never ending in waves through his whole body, and he almost just wants to confess so he can die.

He cradles what’s left of his arm since the bastard cut it off at the elbow, and he sobs. He doesn’t even care to hide it with his mask. It’s not even the pain that hurts the most, even. It’s that Tommy's gone, and by the time Dream escapes- because he’s going to escape, he’s got to- he might be so far from his grasp even their fates being tied might not be enough.

“Of course that’s not true,” a fake voice says in his head, and wavy form approaches. Fuck, the blood loss must be bad today. It always is when he sees things. Usually it’s George or Bad or Sapnap, and it leaves him with a numb feeling in his chest that he’s familiar with, but today it’s Tommy, and that’s worse. It reminds him of what he cannot hold.

“Fuck off,” he mouths at the apparition, voice too tired and hoarse from screaming to speak properly. Not-Tommy laughs, and the sound is so similar to Tommy he almost thinks that his desperate prayers have been answered, Tommy is there again, but he reached his fingers forward and they go through his tired hallucination.

“You’re a real dick, you know that?” Not-Tommy says, and laughs again. “But I know you mean the best.” Dream shrugs his shoulder at the fake, and then curls up, new waves of pain curling up his arm.

“I don’t know why I was ever friends with that bastard.” Not-Tommy lies, and Dream wants to believe it. “You’re just having fun. He’s cruel.” Tommy would never understand that clear distinction, no matter how much Dream explained it, but the fake said it with such conviction it was almost enough for Dream to fall for it.

“When you get out, I’ll be there, Dream. And then we can all be a big happy family,” Not-Tommy says, the thoughts so obviously Dream's and not Tommy’s but- the idea that Tommy understood, that he saw sense, was so tempting, Dream allowed himself to believe it, just for a second. Just until the pain started anew.

Broken and bloody, Dream drifted into unconsciousness with a smile on his face.

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flowercrown-bard · 3 years

Text

Started out rocky, now they’re both cocky

(Part 3 of the rooster!Jaskier series, but it’s not necessary to read the other parts. All you need to know is that Jaskier is a rooster and he’s here to cause chaos)

word count: 3378

content warnings: innuendos, use of the word “cock”

part 1 part 2

AO3 (here Jaskier is called Dandelion, bc I think this has more game!Danelion vibes)

Jaskier had often imagined what it would be like to spend the winter at Kaer Morhen. In his mind, there had been no doubt that he would sweep into a deep bow, announcing his presence to the witchers residing there with a confident grin and eloquent words.

Alas. As fate – or, in this case a very insistent Geralt – would have it, Jaskier was unable to do either of these things. His words had been replaced by crowing, charming someone with a smile was most definitely impossible if one had a beak and an ugly lappet beneath one’s chin. And as for sweeping into a low bow – well, it would look rather silly if a rooster were to bow and he was beneath making an idiot of himself. That’s what Valdo Marx was for and he would not lower himself to that imbecile’s standards.

A less obvious, though no less important reason why Jaskier was not going to present himself the way he normally would have, was simple: To do so, he’d have to stop letting Geralt carry him. Though, now that he thought about it, he wasn’t so certain anymore, whether Geralt was carrying him because why wouldn’t he carry his dearest friend? Or if he did it so he could have a hold on Jaskier and prevent him from running away and wreaking havoc again.

Which was, of course, preposterous and also rather hypocritical of him. After all, the whole reason why Jaskier was here in the first place – and in this undignified form at that – was so he could fulfil Geralt’s wishes and use his unique talents and talons to destroy the room of one of Geralt’s brothers, a task that he was more than willing to take upon himself.

Still, it would have been much appreciated if Geralt had made sure that the other witchers welcomed him as well, or at the very least knew who he was, instead of ignoring him mostly while they greeted Geralt. Truly, it was a marvel that the witcher who welcomed Geralt at the gate didn’t pay any special attention to Jaskier. Not that he needed the attention per se, but it would have been nice and, well, there was a reason why he wasn’t used to people ignoring him. He was a delight! And no one could tell him that the sight of Geralt warming his hands by burying them in the feathers of an exceptionally beautiful and sophisticated rooster wasn’t a sight worth being paid attention to.

Filled with righteous indignation, Jaskier fluttered his wings and pecked a little at Geralt’s fingers, when he had been ignoring Jaskier way too long – not that any amount of ignoring Jaskier would have been acceptable - in favour of talking to the fetching witcher wearing red leather. Eskel, if Jaskier wasn’t mistaken, and as everyone knew, he was never mistaken.

The action earned him a small tightening of Geralt’s arms around him that had him squawking indignantly, but at least, Eskel now looked at him. Jaskier did his best to preen and exude an air of sophistication. For a blissful moment it seemed that he had indeed thoroughly charmed the witcher. Eskel’s face lit up, he reached out and –

“Sir!” Jaskier tried to shout, but his voice contorted his outraged outcry to a crow.

How- the audacity of – what did Eskel think gave him the permission to just pet Jaskier as if he was but an animal? Oh, how dare he…

Oh. Oh. No, actually, it was quite a nice sensation having strong hands caress his head and down his feathered back as gently as a lovesick poet would run their fingers over a flower. Quite nice indeed. He could get used to this.

To his shame – but really, who could fault a bard for seeking a little innocent pleasure in being touched by a handsome man? – Jaskier leaned into the touch. Thank all the gods that he hadn’t been turned into a cat, or else he might have had to suffer the indignity of starting to purr under the well-deserved attention.

For a brief, blissful moment, all was perfect. Until -

“He will get along well with Lil’ Bleater,” Eskel said. “You think we can put them into the stable together?”

And that was just – no! Oh no no, dear witcher. A pretty face and a soft touch would not be enough to save him from Jaskier ‘s outrage.

Expectantly, Jaskier turned his head to Geralt, his most beloved friend, the man who had rescued him countless times from the clutches of those who meant him or his reputation harm. Surely, now would be the perfect time for Geralt to come to his aid once more and defend his honour. Certainly he would –

“Hmm.”

Oh that bastard! This was no disagreeing or scolding hum. This hmm, accompanied by a sly smirk and a mischievous twinkle in Geralt’s eyes was very decidedly not the support that Jaskier was looking for.

Jaskier nipped Geralt’s fingers again, but that only served to make the witcher grin even wider. Together with Eskel, Geralt walked through the gate and towards the entrance hall, giving Jaskier a shit-eating grin when they passed the stables and making a comment about how in there, no one would hear the rooster’s morning crow.

He better just be teasing. As tasteless of a joke as this was, Jaskier might find it in himself to forgive Geralt for the threat of making him sleep in a stable with a goat.

As they walked, Geralt kept petting him absentmindedly, which was admittedly nice. Jaskier could live with being used as a glorified hand-warmer, if it came with the luxury of being carried around and getting pressed against a strong man’s chest.

Even better than that, though, was the look the old witcher, who Geralt greeted with the name Vesemir, gave Geralt, when they met him in the great hall. The way his eyes wandered from Geralt’s face down to where he was stroking his rooster marked him as a man who had lost all faith in Geralt.

A younger witcher with slicked back hair, who must be the infamous Lambert, the very reason why Jaskier was here, snickered behind Vesemir’s back.

“Looks like I’m officially the superior brother now,” he said with a grin. “The only one whose best friend isn’t a farm animal.”

“Your best friend is a cat,” Geralt deadpanned.

“A handsome cat that would claw your pretty face off if he heard you taking shit about me.”

Lambert’s grin looked infuriatingly smug. Jaskier didn’t know this cat they were speaking of, but one thing should never be questioned: He was the farm best animal friend. Even if he wasn’t really an animal or – he shuddered at the thought – living on a farm. But how dare Lambert imply that a cat could be better than a rooster? He gave Lambert his best menacing glare, which fell rather flat, considering he was a damned bird, currently snuggling against Geralt.

As was to be expected, which didn’t mean Jaskier didn’t take offence to it, Lambert ignored him. “What’s his name anyway? I sure hope it’s not Roach.”

If he had been able to snicker, Jaskier would have done so. Lambert might be a cock – oh, who was Jaskier to judge such a thing? – but it was nice to see that the bard wasn’t the only one who would relentlessly tease Geralt for his inability to come up with good names.

“Eskel has his Little Bleater,” Lambert added, his grin turning downright devious. “So, pretty boy, you have…a Little Cock?”

Little? Little?

The gall of that man! Jaskier was anything but small, thank you very much. But then again, Jaskier couldn’t shame a man for showing such a great understanding of wordplay, especially when he used his talents to tease Geralt.

Oh, who was he kidding? He liked Lambert.

Between his unexpected appreciation for the youngest witcher and the urge to make himself seem bigger than he was, Jaskier nearly missed Geralt’s answer. It was exactly the sort of reply one would expect. Except…Geralt did not correct Lambert regarding the fact that Jaskier was an animal.

Now, here’s the thing. Jaskier loved his witcher with all his heart. Geralt was his best friend in the whole wide world and he would never exchange him for anyone, as much of a smug bastard as he could sometimes be. But by the gods, why oh why, did Jaskier ‘s best friend have to be a man who didn’t have the presence of mind to just, oh, I don’t know, tell his family that the rooster he was bringing with him was a cursed human? There was no doubt that Geralt had told his brothers and father of Jaskier before, for how could he not? Jaskier was a great subject to talk about. Surely, Geralt couldn’t be worried about them not accepting him in their midst.

A quick glance at him – Jaskier preferred not to think about how strange a rooster turning his head nearly upside down and giving a stink eye must look – made it quite clear that he was, in fact, not worried at all. Instead, Geralt was up to something.

Jaskier glared at him, as if staring might let him read Geralt’s thoughts, provided Geralt knew how to use his mind to think.

Perhaps his plan was to give Jaskier the best possible way to get attention by only introducing him once he was back in his dashing human form? Oh, that would be marvellous! After all, if there was one thing Jaskier was good at – well, there were numerous things, of course, but we shall ignore that for the sake of the dramatic – it was making an impression. He had to commend his friend for being so thoughtful as to grant him such an opportunity, unless…

Oh, Jaskier knew that look on Geralt’s face. He was having far too much fun with this. A suspicious amount of fun even. It would almost make one think that all this had never been solely about Lambert’s room at all. If Jaskier hadn’t known any better, he might even be inclined to think that Geralt was taking delight in letting Jaskier stay cursed.

Well. If that was the case, Jaskier would make sure that Geralt would delight not much longer in that.

He let out an ear-piercing shriek that had Geralt flinch and unfortunately squeeze him a little uncomfortably.

“What’s wrong, Jaskier?” He asked, as if he didn’t know fully well the magnitude of what he was doing.

Before Jaskier could answer, well, whatever equivalent of answering he could do in this form at any rate, Lambert spoke up again.

“Jaskier?” He cooed. “How sweet. You miss your bard so much that you call your rooster by his name? Who would have thought the White Wolf could be so soft-hearted. Watch out or Roach will get jealous if she learns that you found a new love.”

“Lambert,” Geralt growled, though whether he was defending his own reputation as a stoic, brooding loner – ha! As if anyone could look at him and believe him to be such a thing! – or if he was outraged at the thought that anyone could take Roach’s place in his heart, Jaskier couldn’t tell. It was likely a mixture of both.

“Oh, so you don’t miss your bard?” Lambert lifted an eyebrow. “Is it perhaps just a certain bodypart of his that you miss? I guess then it would make sense why you gave his name to the cock.”

Lambert turned away from Geralt before he could come up with a reply, but before he had his back fully to Geralt, Lambert caught Jaskier’s eye and he winked.

Oh. Oh ho ho, he knew. That sly bastard. Evidently, Lambert was the only witcher who knew how to use his brain and seen through the curse and Geralt’s admittedly poor attempt at making it seem as if the extraordinary and overall splendid rooster was but a normal bird and now Lambert was fucking with Geralt.

And – now, listen. Jaskier had been looking forward to destroying Lambert’s room. There was nothing like joining forces with a friend to mess with someone who annoyed them. Well, the biggest pleasure Jaskier knew came from proving once again that he was more talented than Valdo Marx, but that was a given, so it shall not be mentioned further. The point was that Jaskier would have done as Geralt had asked of him.

But now, with this new knowledge that Lambert apparently shared the same ambition as Jaskier to become the biggest nuisance he could be, he couldn’t possibly work against him. Jaskier could recognise a kindred spirit if he saw one. Reading people and recognising his own greatness in others was one of his countless talents. The last and perhaps only time he had met such a kindred soul before, had been in his first year at Oxenfurt at the admission exam, when Valdo Marx had immediately singled out Jaskier as the one who could be the biggest threat to his career. As loathe as Jaskier was to admit it, he too had recognised a certain talent in the other bard and they had both decided to make it their lives’ mission to not let the other top them.

Jaskier had not regretted that decision a moment in his life, but even he had to admit that said rivalry was the reason why he was now a rooster and delightful as that could be, he could have done well without it.

So, he would not make the mistake of antagonizing a congenial person again. At least not know. Who was to say what the future held? The important part was, that for now, for once in his life, Jaskier was going to be the bigger person.

He waited until the moment was right, a feat greater than any he had ever faced before. As virtuous as he was, being patient was not one of Jaskier’s strong suits. Still, once night had fallen and Geralt had thankfully not made true of his promise to put him in the stables, he snuck out of Geralt’s room, searching for Lambert’s instead.

Lambert, of course, was already waiting for him, a cocky smile on his face and his arms crossed in a way that meant business.

He greeted Jaskier with the fateful words “You gonna help me mess with Geralt?” and obviously, there was only one possible answer to that.

It was thrilling having an ally in his mission to create chaos and take revenge on those that had slighted him. And, oh, how Geralt had slighted him!

The first step of their however-many-steps-they-would-get-away-with-plan was simple: Jaskier was supposed to take a nap. In Geralt’s bed. Specifically, in his hair, creating a nest out of it.

Now, Jaskier was no craftsman for any craft that didn’t involve the spoken word, but he did so love to make himself comfortable. So that was what he did. Snuggling into Geralt’s hair and masterfully rearranging the strands with his beak until they could well and truly be considered a mess.

And then, as always, Jaskier woke Geralt up in his new favourite way. One would have thought that Geralt would have gotten used to Jaskier crowing into his ear at the top of his lungs. But no. Geralt grimaced and grabbed his pillow to throw it at his tragically underappreciated companion. The feathers flying through the room were not only those from the pillow.

So naturally, Jaskier started complaining. Loudly. Loud enough to, as a completely arbitrary example, signal a different witcher whose room was down the hallway that their plan was in motion.

Before Geralt could find another pillow to throw at him, Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s breeches that the witcher had unceremoniously dropped to the floor the past night and dragged them towards the door.

Cursing, Geralt chased after him, wearing nothing but his underthings. Had Jaskier been alone, he would have gotten caught, no doubt, but the door flung open just in time for him to dash through and just before Geralt could reach him, Lambert, who had been lying in wait, scooped Jaskier up and ran down the stairs and outside, cackling like a hen, while Jaskier let out a triumphant crow that was somewhat muffled by the breeches still firmly held in his beak.

Geralt was catching up to them quickly, but Lambert and Jaskier had one rather obvious advantage: There were two of them.

Lambert dropped Jaskier unceremoniously, leaving him to flutter his wings to land somewhat elegantly – oh, who was he kidding? He plummeted to the ground like a stone - and they dashed into two different directions. For a precious moment, Geralt stood there frozen to the spot, surely contemplating which menace would be able to cause the greater chaos, if he didn’t catch him: The rooster with a godcomplex or Geralt’s little brother in possession of opposable thumbs.

Geralt, once more was forced to choose the lesser evil, but here is the thing: As it was so often the case, there was no correct choice to make.

While Lambert ran back to Geralt’s room to cause who knew what chaos, Jaskier ran towards the stables, and be it only for the dramatic irony.

Geralt must have chosen to follow Lambert and Jaskier was almost insulted, but it gave him the chance to take his time, pushing open the door to the stables and dragging the breeches inside. Just a little revenge for all the times that Geralt had made fun of Jaskier when he had been forced to run out of town without his breeches, since they had to be left in a lover’s rooms.

He dropped the breeches in Lil’ Bleater’s corner and watched with smug satisfaction as the goat immediately began munching on the breeches happily. Jaskier gave her a proud look and had they both been human, he would have kissed her hand in thanks. As it was, he was rather fond of his beak and he would not risk hurting it by kissing the goat’s hooves. Still, Lil’ Bleater lived up to her name, giving a happy little bleat that Jaskier chose to interpret as thanks for the delicious meal. How polite of her.

Who knew. Maybe they would become friends after all.

From somewhere in the keep, Jaskier could hear a bang and then a shout of disgust and had he been in possession of his luscious lips, would have made them split into the biggest, most self-satisfied grin, when Geralt’s voice continued cursing loud enough to be heard even where Jaskier was. To be fair, Geralt had probably opened the windows of his room. At least that was what Jaskier would have done in his stead to escape what Lambert had done to his room.

Well. Served Geralt right. No one could accuse Lambert of unoriginality and Jaskier was nothing if not petty.

Of course, the bomb that Lambert had set off wasn’t another moon dust bomb. Where would be the fun in that? No, Lambert and Jaskier had agreed, as much as a rooster and a witcher could agree, that they would be gracious and bring Geralt closer to what he loved the most: The sweet sweet smell of his cherished Roach. In this case, the smell of what Roach left behind, when she had eaten a lot.

There were more steps to their genius plan of creating chaos in the keep, one of which involved a fork, a strategically placed axii and the backside of whoever pissed Lambert off the most, and naturally there were endlessly more possibilities for improvisation.

Sadly, the other witchers, roused by the mayhem and possibly even the stench coming from Geralt’s room, didn’t seem to appreciate Lambert and Jaskier’s combined genius and they made sure to break the curse on Jaskier as soon as they got the change.

Now, there was only one fundamental flaw in that: For some unknown reason, the witchers hadn’t considered the fact that Jaskier’s personality hadn’t changed when he had become a rooster. They had no idea what they were in for, now that Jaskier had opposable thumbs again.

This would be a fun winter indeed.

#There's a bard lose in Kaer Morhen #jaskier #Geralt #geralt of rivia #Lambert #Eskel #rooster!Jaskier #cock!Jaskier #my writing #Hähnchen #witcher #witcher fic #fic #fanfic #feral!Jaskier #cursed!Jaskier #Jaskier&Lambert

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cosmicjoke · 3 years

Text

Ah, chapters 113 & 114 of AoT, and I’ve only got one thing to say.

Zeke, am I supposed to be feel sorry for the bitch? Well I DON’T.

No, seriously, fuck this guuuuuuuuy, I know I keep saying it again and again, but God damn, if these two chapters didn’t just solidify my hatred for the bastard.

First of all, he is just... the most whiny, delusional, self-pitying pathetic loser, just... he really is. I feel like a character in a Peanuts comic strip every time he opens his mouth. All I hear is “whaa, whaa, whaa”. And his delusions of grandeur would almost be funny if they weren’t so pathetic.

Here’s the thing, alright, and I’m sorry if I’m going to offend any Zeke fans with what I’m about to say, but too bad, I guess.

Everything out of this shitheads mouth is a lie. And just because he’s convinced himself of his own bullshit doesn’t make the lies coming out of his mouth any more true.

He turns Levi’s fellow soldiers into Titans. He does this without remorse. Don’t try to tell me Zeke felt bad about it. He didn’t. You know how I know he didn’t? Because in his private moments in the immediate aftermath, he mocks Levi over having done it, gloating about his supposed master plan of using Levi’s compassion against him and utilizing it to ensure Levi’s own demise. Zeke’s entire attitude here is sickeningly unbothered, unburdened, uncaring, and smug in the EXTREME. He mocks Levi’s compassion, literally makes fun of it and lambasts it as a pathetic sign of weakness when he says “I know you’re a caring leader. Your soldiers haven’t done anything wrong. They’ve just grown a little bigger. You wouldn’t, say, slice them to pieces over that, would you?”. This is Zeke making fun of the fact, finding AMUSEMENT in the fact that he’s just murdered 30 people who have never done a single thing to him, and reveling in what he thinks is a victory that will lead to Levi’s own death, reveling in having taken advantage of and weaponizing a better man’s kindness and compassion. Zeke is ENJOYING this moment. Just like he enjoyed killing all those soldiers in Shinganshina. And then, the kicker, and this is a particular point about Zeke that just makes me absolutely sick, he pretends to himself as if he didn’t want to do it. He PLAYS at his own regret, saying, “I didn’t want do this either,” and yet in the very next breath, continues to treat what he’s done with grotesque flippancy, saying “Still, how sad... There wasn’t even a battle or skirmish.” Gloating over how easily he’s bested Levi and his men, before going on to sink further into his insane delusions of grandeur, blaming their inability to trust one another on Levi’s inability to “understand”. I’m sorry, Zeke, but no. You didn’t even TRY to help Levi understand, too wrapped up in your own egotistical god-complex to consider it a possibility. ‘Oh, only I could possibly understand, along with Eren, the great task we two special beings have been burdened with. He makes assumptions about Levi’s life, about the kinds of things he’s seen and experienced, and convinces himself that they couldn’t be anything like what Zeke has (which, hilariously, is all wrong, since out of everyone, Levi knows better than anyone else in the SC what it’s like to be treated as a second class citizen). Zeke just assumes Levi couldn’t possibly ever grasp the complexities of the outside world, and so that’s why Zeke didn’t even bother trying to talk to him. Blah, blah, blah. No, Zeke, you didn’t share your stupid ass plan because you wanted to continue to feel special, like you’re the chosen one who gets to decide the fate of an entire race of people. The most hilarious part of this entire sequence is when Zeke is thinking Levi couldn’t ever understand the concept of all the world’s militaries bearing down on Paradis at once, and what that means, couldn’t grasp the urgency of the situation, as if ZEKE HIMSELF isn’t completely fucking responsible for that situation in the first place. Zeke literally engineered it. He created the problem, and now wants to position himself as the savior. He’s just such a loser man. The God damned definition.

And as if all of that wasn’t bad enough, when it turns out Zeke’s plan to take Levi out failed miserably, and Levi comes after his sorry ass like a bat out of hell, Zeke continues to mock Levi, to laugh at what Levi’s just had to do in order to survive and pursue Zeke. He says “Where’d your adorable little men go!? Don’t tell me you killed them all! The poor things!”. Are you fucking serious? Zeke’s behavior here is one of the most sickening things in the entire story, bar none. The way he laughs at Levi here for having to cut down 30 of his friends and comrades, the absolute display of sociopathic glee and disregard for the severe, horrific trauma he’s just caused this man, is honestly shocking. Man, I’m sorry, but anyone who sympathizes with Zeke over Levi after this display maybe needs to reevaluate their moral compass, because it’s damned broken. And just as an aside, Zeke’s cowardly fear of Levi is also pretty damned funny. He’s just such a bitch./

We go from this perverse display of psychopathic megalomania into Zeke’s backstory, and again, I’m sorry if I’m gonna offend any Zeke fans here, but to all of that, I ask, so effing what? Oh, boohoo, Zeke’s mommy and daddy didn’t shower him with praise or spend any time playing catch with him, and somehow, I guess, this is meant to excuse his attempts later in life to commit mass genocide. Poor, poor Zeke. Yes, his childhood was sad, he experienced neglect from his parents for two whole years, was used by them as a pawn for their idiotic plans, and ended up disappointing his father when it turned out he had no real talent. And again I ask, so what? This sort of experience isn’t exactly what one would call unique, or even extreme. There are countless children in the world who go through the exact same thing in various forms. Parents who put too much pressure on their kids to succeed, parents who try living vicariously through their children, parents who make their disappointment known and even punish their children for failing to live up to their expectations (something Zeke’s parents never did, by the way). The point is, this isn’t even what one would classify as extreme hardship. It’s a sad story of a child being neglected and not receiving enough love from his parents. This isn’t to undermine the very real pain one experiences from those things. Not at all. That pain is real and legitimate. But it’s also fairly common and pedestrian, as far as childhood trauma is concerned, and it doesn’t even remotely begin to justify the extreme lengths of megalomaniacal, sociopathic, genocidal tendencies he later displays. Also, Zeke also had his grandparents, who did love him and spent lots of time with him. He had Mr. Ksaver, who played with him and acted as a mentor to him. It wasn’t like Zeke had no one and grew up with zero connections. That’s BS.

Levi calls this bitch on his shit later in chapter 114, as Zeke’s muttering away in his delusions about how he’s “saving everyone”. He asks Zeke “That was your plan? Mercy killings?”. Levi’s asking Zeke here who the hell gave him the right to decide who lives and who dies? Who gave him the right to decide who’s life is WORTH living? When Levi says him getting to die by being eaten by a Titan is pretty merciful, considering he stole the lives of so many of his comrades, Zeke’s reply speaks volumes about just how warped and demented his thinking is, when he says “I stole nothing. I... saved them. Them and the children they would have... I saved them all... from this cruel world.”. He’s literally justifying murdering countless people by trying to redefine that murder as “saving” them. It’s not murder because it saved them from ever having to suffer again! He’s absolving himself here of his sins by casting his actions in not just a favorable light, but trying to sell them as heroic and admirable. He takes no, actual responsibility for what he’s done. He removes himself from that responsibility by pretending he was doing a good thing, an honorable, noble thing, by murdering a whole bunch of people who’d never done jack shit to him. Yippee for Zeke, I guess. He’s the very definition of an ego-maniac, of someone suffering from a messiah complex. He’s insane, and morally depraved. The very fact that he’s the one who comes up with the idea of eradicating the Eldian race by rendering them infertile is only further proof of this. What teenager comes up with a plan to exterminate an entire race of people and thinks it’s a good idea?

Right before he blows himself and Levi up, he screams “I’m hope you’re watching, Mr. Ksaver!”. He’s indulging in his own, fanciful notions of himself as the “chosen one”, as a unique person who alone is capable of delivering humanity to salvation. He’s showing off, asking Mr. Ksaver to watch him as he “saves the world”, because all he cares about, really, is making himself feel special, of fulfilling what he’s deluded himself into believing is his destiny, his right to decide the fate of the world.

And then he almost kills Levi in the process.

I swear, I wish Levi had just chopped his shitty head off right then and there. No one can blame Levi for chopping the bastards legs up like he did, for being so angry. It wasn’t just that Zeke had killed so many of his fellow soldiers by turning them into Titans, or tried to kill Levi by turning them into Titans, it’s also how Zeke laughed about it, and laughed at the pain he’d caused Levi, treating all of it as if it was worth nothing, and then having the unmitigated gall to cast himself as the hero bestowing his benevolent mercy on all. Give me a fucking break.

Fuck you Zeke. I hope you rot in hell, you dumb shit.

Also, fuck you to Floch too. I hate that bastard almost as much.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #Levi Ackerman #zeke yeager #snk 113 #snk 114 #meta #thoughts

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blooeyedtroll · 3 years

Text

Home on the Range

Rated PG-13ish Lolz. For occasional cussing and maybe innuendos(?). Lolz. This can also be read on Ao3. Feel free to read it there if you prefer.

More art scattered though out this fic, hope you like it!

Hello friend! Welcome!

This is a One shot fic that takes place in mine & @messybitch802 ‘s :

Efflorescence AU.

This is the beginning of our tale, I hope you enjoy.

This is in Hickory’s POV. I thought this would be a fun way to introduce Bloo and Messy. It also seemed fitting since Hickory will play a larger part as our tale unfolds.

However, I’d like to think this could be enjoyed as a fun one-shot Hickory & Dickory fic as well. This fandom needs more Yodel Brothers content!

Big thanks to @jade-green-butterfly and her random ask that kicked my butt in gear, giving me the inspiration to finally start writing:

Anyway, let’s get to it. Enjoy!:

HOME ON THE RANGE

"Rock Trolls... no doubt about that.”

The rugged, orange haired Troll put down his hammer and stepped away from the task at hand. Fence work could wait. This needed his immediate attention. Around this time of day he'd expect to see, at most, a tumbleweed passing by the entrance to the Ranch. Maybe. Nobody ever came out this way. Not since he'd been here anyway. At a good clip, it was about an hour trek away from Lonesome Flats. Which suited his needs perfectly.

The perfect place to lay low and still blend in.

"Bist du sicher?" whispered a muffled voice behind him.

"Of course I am. Now hush, I'm gonna check it out. Stay in character. An’ be ready, just in case."

The orange haired Troll patted the front of his jeans, freeing them of a satisfying amount of dust from the day’s hard work and checked his reflection in a nearby trough. Grinning as he placed a straw of wheat that was kept in the brim of his hat; between his teeth.

Perfection.

Who would guess otherwise, that the reflection in that water, was anything but a genuine Country Troll?

It took a lot of work shopping, trial and error, but he did it.

Well, they did it. The four legged, rugged, handsome, Country Troll was in actuality...two Trolls.

Two brothers to be precise.

Yodel Trolls by the names of Hickory and Dickory.

The last Yodel Trolls by their accounts, and they happened to be the best damn team of Bounty Hunters and Mercenaries in all of Trolldom.

For good reason.

The best tool to their disposal was their ability to blend in. So much so, it was only until it was “too late” for their marks, by the time their true colors were revealed. And this disguise has been their best yet.

Hickory, though the youngest brother, was the much taller of the two. So he was the face to this particular get-up. Making Dickory to be left with the tail end. Literally. Understandably, this was not ideal for him.

And he definitely made it well known on many occasions how he felt about having to play a literal “horse’s ass”.

But by gum, was he the best ass you could ask for.

At this point, Dickory had mastered the art of synchronizing with Hickory's movements, in such a way, it was now practically impossible to spot anything amiss. It was as if they shared one mind while under the guise of this centaur-esk being.

And while Dickory was fairly sour about the whole situation, Hickory found himself more and more, fond of living day to day as a Country Troll. Very much so to his brother’s shagrin. The look, the music, the lifestyle...everything.

It had been two months now since the brothers found themselves here, in Country Music territory. However, last anyone on the outside had heard about them, was that they had "yodelled so hard, an avalanche fell on them"...or something? Which was just what they wanted. For the time being anyway.

The brothers had struck a deal with their last mark.

For his freedom, he was to spread said rumor, so the Yodelers could lay low for a while.

Queen Barb, of the Hard Rock Trolls, was no stranger to the two brothers. As a matter of fact, she was one of their most frequent clients for the past few years. Which suited them just fine. Well, almost. The last few jobs they did for the young Queen, left a bitter taste in Hickory's mouth. Not so much for the tasks she asked of them, but because of something she said and what he saw on their last few visits to Volcano Rock City. Maps. Marked up. Plans of some sort. Hanging everywhere. The young ruler, looking the most tired he'd ever seen her, yet looking as if ready to burst from being too tightly wound, at any moment.

"Hopefully next time I see you dudes, one way or another, we'll all be singing to a different tune. It's gonna be so Rad."

Whatever was going on, both Yodelers agreed that it was definitely not worth getting caught up in. They could just feel it. Deep down. They were hired to track Trolls down and do what needed to do, to get by.

Both of them could be shady characters at times, but they had decent moral compasses to live by. So they told themselves.

That's why the presence of Rock Trolls at this moment made Hickory's blood run cold. Could it be possible somehow, some way, they had been found out? That whatever Queen Barb was up to, she was looking for them? What is it that she’d need them for anyway?

No. Their plan worked perfectly. Blend in as a Country Troll, lay low for a while, only do the occasional "job" when the opportunity presented itself, just until the Queen of Rock cooled her head or went through with... whatever she is planning.

Not a soul knew about Hickory and Dickory being here.

Well.

Unless you counted, July.

Miss July, the owner of the Ranch. A rather interesting Troll.

A Pop-Country Troll. The only mixed genre Troll around these parts. Unlike her four legged, centaur, Country loving neighbors; she walked on two legs... well, hooves. Her appearance could be compared to a more "Satyr" like build, with a perfect blend of both genres in her appearance. The bright colors of a Pop Troll, but the sturdy build of that of a Country Troll.

A Tough, stern older lady-Troll, with a heart of gold.

Running this place all on her own, while tending to her extremely elderly parents.

That's one of the reasons he never expected any visitors here. Nobody in town wanted anything to do with Miss July or her family. Didn't much like associating with “their kind” if they could help it. Though you'd never hear them say it in polite conversation. But that suited Miss July just fine. That's how she liked it. Ever since Miss July and her folks suffered a terrible loss to their family, decades ago, she rarely went into town if she could help it.

Which on one such occasion, is when she stumbled upon the Yodelers, in their first attempts at putting together their “Country Persona”.

They had been camping not too far from her Ranch and the Town, when she found them both, struggling to even walk in time together, in a pair of poorly made four legged pants.

July took their word as Gospel. That they were just fulfilling a lifelong dream of wanting to, in some way, be a Country Troll. So she offered them a place to stay and to show them the ropes on what it meant to be a Country Troll. If they agreed to work for her at her family’s Ranch.

"Until you feel you can stand on yer own four hooves!' She teased.

It could be easily wagered that July being an outcast in her own community, could be a factor of sympathy she felt towards them, making her wanting to help any way she could, and possibly what made her not judgmental in the least. That, and as tough as she put herself on as, she was sweet as apple pie, through and through.

Which did make Hickory especially, feel guilty about not being more upfront with her. As much as he could be anyhow.

Especially so, when the occasional “job opportunity" presented itself around Lonesome Flats during the Yodelers free time. Turns out, there were plenty of Trolls who had a bone to pick with others, or needed matters settled around these parts. Not to mention, crooks-a-plenty to turn in.

But both brothers always repented. By being very diligent working for Miss July on the Ranch. Anything she needed done, got done. It was the least they could do for what she had done for them for these last two months. So the last thing needed was for anything to get ugly around here.

As Hickory approached closer and closer, he could feel his brother tensing up.

"Easy.” He whispered under his breath, smirking, patting behind him in attempts to calm his hotheaded companion. While still maintaining a nonchalant and calm demeanor.

Having spent a fair amount of time in Volcano Rock City for past jobs, and even on several occasions for other clients; needing to spend time incognito as Rock Trolls, it was fairly easy to recognize them from afar.

Upon closer inspection, it did come across as rather curious to see them wearing Country attire. They couldn't be trying to blend in, could they?

No. Not by the way these two held themselves.

One Troll in various shades of blue in appearance, the other in peculiar shades of green from toe to tip. Both faces, still covered by wide brimmed hats. The blue Troll's demeanor was nervous right from the jump. Their green companion, holding them by the hand, grounding them. As if to keep them from sprinting away at a moment's notice. Both looking tired from the trek they must have taken from town to get to the Ranch property and from the sun's unforgiving afternoon rays.

Nothing but what seemed to be electric guitars and simple backpacks on their backs. However, these were definitely the most impressive guitars Hickory had seen in all his life.

The blue Troll’s, from what he could make out, was sage in color and looked as if it was made of some large critter's battered wing. Almost bat or reptilian in nature. The green Troll’s guitar, an imposing, venomous violet, crafted by what could only could be guessed as being once the claw and stinger of some scorpion-type critter. One he certainly wouldn't want to tango with.

Lackeys of Queen Barb’s? No... couldn't be.

"Nobody knows we're here"

"We've been so careful."

He repeated over and over to himself. Almost mantra-like. He really had no reason to be this paranoid he kept reminding himself.

“Who are the most feared Bounty Hunters and Mercenaries in all Trolldom?”

“The Yodel brothers. That's who.” He smirked at that last thought. Puffing his broad chest a bit more, in response to his inner pep-talk.

And no Troll, no matter now--

"H--Howdy!" The blue Troll, clearing their voice, shakily called out.

"Right fine day, isn't it?"

The traveler seemed to ease into the drawl like putting on an old pair of comfy shoes, and with each word, their confidence seemed to boost. Stepping forward from their green companion, they removed their wide brim hat and gandered up at Hickory, with a small smile that damn near made his heart leap through his throat. In a good way?

That was...unexpected.

His usual quick witted mind and tongue, on the spot turned into a train that just left the station.

Those eyes. Absolutely pierced him right through. Large, inquisitive, pale, cerulean eyes. Staring right at him under dark lashes, and surrounded by a cascade of cobalt freckles.

The closest shade of color he could compare those eyes to were a color he hadn't thought of in ages. Snow. Snow that as a Trolling he played in. Usually when you found yourself making forts or laying in heeps that came up so high, you would look, and you'd catch the glimmering sunlight, shining through it. A shade of blue that just melted you to the core and drew out a smile, without you being the wiser.

"Right fine.” he responded. Recovering from his wandering mind.

No time to be side tracked by an adorable, freckled, blue-eyed Troll. With sweet, curvy features, who has solid looking muscles that look they could easily crush--

"How can I help you? You folks seem a bit far away from home. Don't get a lot of Rock Trolls around these parts.”

Thank goodness his voice seemed to be the one on track; at the task at hand.

“Oi! What’s that supposed to mean?”

The green Troll stepped forward, hotly, removing their own hat, as to glare directly at him. Sizing him up. Only a tad taller, but much more lithe in figure to their companion. Definitely much more fierce. Not just in attitude, but in appearance. Their eyes, deep as sapphires. Teeth, the bottom row protruding two large tusk-like lower canines. Ears, pointed back and just as sharp as their claws, which he found himself one the other end of, being pointed at. Just as he felt his hair prickle, preparing himself for what was bound to happen next, the tension was immediately neutralized.

"It's okay Mess” The blue Troll cooed, calming the green one.

"Sorry to just come on over uninvited, but uh, does a Troll named July still live here?"

"You mean Miss July? Sure does. Why, if You don't mind my askin’?"

"Well you see, she's my... can--can I please talk to her? If she's around here today?”

A good long pause washed over the three.

Hickory could feel the trepidation radiating from Dickory behind him as he swished "their tail' in annoyance. Normally, if this was any other situation, it'd be too bad for these two. He'd send them right on their way, or worse if it came to it. They seemed capable. They had guitars, they were Rock Trolls. Random Rock Trolls, showing up, asking for not himself or his brother, but Miss July. Out of all the Country Trolls in Lonesome Flats.

But the waves of anxiety radiating from this freckled Troll were massive; and when their friend wasn't staring daggers at his direction, they were gazing so tenderly and sympathetically at them. These weren't agents of Queen Barbs. These seemed like folks on a sad mission of delivering news, or something of the like. They looked as though this was the last place they would ever want to be.

Dickory always insisted that Hickory was too quick to let his heart think first before his head when it came to their line of work. He didn't see it that way though. Hickory thought himself a good judge of character. Hell, that's why they found themselves in this situation now. Tipping his hat in a friendly manner, he smiled at the two.

"Well, why dontcha follow me then. I'm sure Miss July is making lunch right about now. You folks are just in time. Name's Hickory"

"Messy." replied the green.

The blue Troll remained silent.

"Adorabull got yer tongue cutie?" he teased

Those freckled cheeks lit up in seconds, a flushed lavender. Too cute.

"Somethin' like that' They smiled sheepishly.

All the while, as Hickory walked with the two up to the main building on the property, they stuck to idle chit-chat. About the weather or the nearby town. They passed by many of the fences that housed just some of Miss July's critters. As well as a few stables, paddocks, a decent sized workshed, and the small house the Yodelers had been staying in since they arrived here. It was once they passed that particular building, the blue Rocker stopped in their tracks momentarily. Just staring. Almost trance-like. They only moved again once Messy had firmly grabbed their hand and they followed.

Finally, they reached the main building's porch. The family home. Without any prompting, the two travelers waited at the bottom steps of the porch. Hickory nodded, thinking that might be best. He walked up to the open door. The wafting aroma of today's lunch filling his nostrils. Chili with sweet rolls? If he wasn't mistaken, he could smell fresh squeezed lemonade too. Knowing better to barge in while she was in the Kitchen...

"Pardon me, Miss July?" he called out.

"Dammit Hic, I told ya once, I'll tell ya again. Lunch is on when I ring the damn bell, that's when it’s good and ready!"

Hickory couldn't help but chuckle. That July was a firecracker.

"It's got nothin' to do with that Miss. You see, You've got yourself some visitors."

"For the last time Hic, just call me Jul--"

July emerged from the doorway, holding in each hand a glass of lemonade with mint garnish. No doubt as something to appease the Yodelers until lunch was done. As soon as her eyes met the two travelers, she stopped dead in her tracks. Glaring at them something fierce.

"These two are the visitors I was talkin' about."

"Rock Trolls, huh? Here? Whaddya want?"

The blue traveler, clearing their throat, voice cracking; they smiled, eyes glazed and sparkling with unshed tears. Staring at July as if a secret wish had been granted.

"Aunty Ju-Ju? It's m-me. It's Bloo. I'm home."

Bloo? That Bloo? Could it really be? Hickory didn't need to dwell on that too long though. July suddenly yelped out loud, in such a way that it startled absolutely everyone. Including herself apparently because those glasses in her hands dropped and shattered to bits.

"You couldn't be-- w-what kind of game are ya playin’ at?!"

July at a loss for words. This was serious. There she stood, knees buckling, lip quivering, tail thrashing. Unable to look away from the Troll in front of them at the end of her porch. A look of torment across their face.

Slowly, the freckled Troll smiled sadly, and reached behind their back for their instrument. Hickory acted quickly, putting himself between the two. Staring intently at the Rocker. They stared back, as they slowly brought the instrument forward.

"Please. Let me play?"

Hickory's nostrils flared, biting down hard on the straw in his mouth. How was he so stupid? Well, he wouldn't be fooled this time.

*~strum~*

Though the guitar was imposing and electric, with a stroke of their hand, it played a long, twangy, unmistakable, Country cord.

Silence.

Laying a hand on Hickory's shower, July gently moved him aside, her attention almost trance-like on the player. Waiting.

As if they understood, they shifted and picked up their guitar in earnest. Strumming again, but to a much more upbeat melody. Much more upbeat than most Country music Hickory had heard around town that he grew to enjoy. This sounded more... Pop? Much more like something he'd hear July singing on a day she was in a particularly good mood. Or something July’s elderly mother, the Pop Troll of the family might hum.

That's when they began to sing along, starting off slowly and gaining strength with each note. A large smile on their face as tears cascaded down their round cheeks. As if putting on the show of their lives. It was raw, and beautiful.

"She loves rock ‘n’ roll,

they said it's demons’ tongue,

She thinks they're too old.

They think she's too young,

And the battle lines are clearly drawn.”

“She's a wild one,

with an angel's face,

She's a lovely Troll in a state of grace,

When she was three years old on her daddy's knee,

He said you can be anythin’ you wanna be.

She's a wild one.

Runnin' free."

“She has future plans,

and dreams at night,

they tell her life is hard,

she smiles, sayin’ “that’s alright”, yeah!”

“She’s a wild one,

With an angel’s face,

She’s a lovely Troll in a state of grace,

When she was three years old on her daddy’s knee,

He said you can be anythin’ you wanna be.

She’s a wild one.

Runnin’ free.”

"She's a wild one”~~

"~~Runnin' free.” July finished and sobbed the last line.

"That was the song I wrote for your Mama... all them years ago..My Bloo. My little ‘Bloo-Jay’ came home!"

Hickory stood fully aside now, allowing the two to embrace, for what he now had realized had been the first time in more than two decades. An embrace that both warmed and broke your heart, all at the same time. This was July's pride and joy. Her niece. Bloo, the only child of July's older sister June.

June and July were extremely close sisters. Best friends even.

June was a very free spirited Troll who fancied herself a part-time singer at one of the local bars in town. On one of these trips to town, she met a traveling Rock Troll by the name of Ziggy. Busking for food and drink. Let's just say, it didn't take long at all until wedding bells were ringing and Ziggy was part of the happy family here on the Ranch. The couple waited a while before having a Trolling. The two were busy enjoying married life, Ziggy took June traveling, fulfilling her dreams of seeing life outside Lonesome Flats. And wherever they went, they were singing up a storm. When they returned home to settle down, at any bar or club, or bingo hall that would have them, they continued singing their hearts out. Occasionally even dragging July along. The three of them became inseparable. Especially after Bloo was born. The townsfolk even seemed to warm up to the entire, oddball family. It was all turning up roses for the family finally, after what felt like ages of trying to live in harmony. But it all came to a crushing end.

Shortly after Bloo turned five years old, a serious, contagious illness spread throughout Lonesome Flats. Most folks who caught it, eventually recovered, but there were eight fatalities in the end. June was one of them. The family was torn to pieces by June’s passing. Ziggy just wasn't the same Troll after. A year passed and just as they thought things might slowly start looking up, Ziggy and Bloo were gone.

Apparently he had packed himself and Bloo up one night, and just left without a word. July knew he had family back home in Volcano Rock City, and figured that is where he would take Bloo to raise them. But July dared not go there. For good reason. A Pop-Country Troll, travel to Volcano Rock City? Demand her niece back from a heartbroken father? While leaving her extremely elderly parents to fend for themselves? No. July would be turned away or torn to pieces. King Thrash at the time was feared for good reason in those days and most Trolls feared Rock Trolls the most out of all the other Tribes.

July and her folks basically moved on by learning to mourn the loss of June, Bloo, and Ziggy. They never expected to ever see Bloo or Ziggy again. Yet here Bloo was. Embracing their aunt, while Hickory and Messy looked on fondly. His smile grew wider as he realized how overjoyed July's folks: Clay and May, would be to see their grand-baby again. Something they thought they'd never live to see.

He could see it now that he got a better look at Bloo, as they were bombarded with kisses and hugs, that they did share a little resemblance to their Pop-Country Aunt. Though without a doubt, they took after their father Ziggy the most. No wonder Bloo wasn't easily recognizable at first glance, they looked so different in comparison to how they looked back then as a Trolling.

Who would have thought that he'd meet the Troll who's childhood pictures adorned the home he and his brother were staying in? Which happened to be Bloo's Old family home on the Ranch. The same house they had stopped to stare at on their way to the main house.

"Small world we live in!” He barked with laughter.

"Welcome home Miss Bloo, glad to meetcha." And he meant it, whole heartedly.

"Glad to be home again.”

END.

(Song used was Faith Hill’s ‘Wild One’. Tweaked for this story)

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bettsfic · 3 years

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Hi betts, how do you separate yourself from your fanfiction works? As in having the mindset that ‘you are not your work’? I feel like I’ve fallen into the myth that positive feedback equates to readers liking me for me, when in most cases I imagine they’re solely interested in my content. I guess I’m expecting too much from fandom members? I just don’t feel like I belong to the fandom if it weren’t for my fanfiction. Thanks for your time.

this is a really great and really big question that for me anyway had far deeper roots in my mental health than i initially recognized.

even before i found fandom, i strongly conflated love with being of use to someone, and then i would get upset that people used me. all of my relationships were either distant or volatile. i knew that i was the only thing all my relationships had in common, but i couldn’t figure out what i was doing wrong.

what i was doing wrong was that i didn’t know how to love or be loved. i only knew how to need and be needed. i was defined wholly by my relationships with others; without them, i was no one. i changed everything about myself to fit with the people i was surrounded by. i had no ability whatsoever to see or assess myself. my worth was measured in others’ perception of me. if they hated me, i hated me. if they loved me...actually, i still hated me, because i believed that love was temporary, and it was only a matter of time they saw the “real” me and they would take their love away. it was much easier to mold myself into someone they could love.

i once told a guy i was dating, i just want to be who you want me to be. and he looked at me like i was crazy, and asked, then how can i love you?

when i found writing, i didn’t know what love really felt like. i only knew obsession and codependency. i didn’t know how to feel emotions in order to process them, so everything that had ever happened to me was still just sitting inside me, waiting. writing offered me a tool to begin working through the pile. it offered me a means to observe and validate myself, and feel my feelings.

but when i was first developing a relationship with writing, i put so much of myself into it that i couldn’t help but use feedback as a measure of self-worth.

i think to some degree, every artist needs a witness. almost everything we write exists to be made public to some degree, and it’s a totally normal thing to want to seek reception. but conflating other people liking you, and by extension your work, with your worthiness to exist, creates a lot of self-suffering.

i remember realizing that i had boxed myself into a corner, and i knew i had to reassess my perspective of myself and my work. i had found myself in the same position you describe, feeling bad because readers didn’t love me, they loved my writing (see: being of use and wondering why people always used me). especially with fanfic, which has so much to do with quantity, 90% of readers don’t even look at the fic writer’s name, let alone kudos or comment. reading is a self-fulfilling endeavor the same way eating is. all of us need stories to live. as writers, we’re just the chefs. when you eat a good meal, you don’t fall in love with the chef. most of the time you don’t even know their name. the food isn’t the chef and the story isn’t you.

but also, i was, and always had been, disgusted and baffled by people who *did* love me, especially if i felt i had nothing useful to offer them. once, a friend of mine drove like 3 hours to come visit me for dinner, and then drove 3 hours back. for some reason i assumed he was on a road trip somewhere and just passing through. when he told me he had come just to hang out with me, my brain short-circuited. i couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to hang out with me like, for fun.

after a few years of posting fic, a weird thing happened where a few people did seem to like *me* because of my writing, insofar as they would follow my blog and interact with me and eventually we became friends. there may even be people out there who like me and don’t interact with me. but that idea also kind of weirded me out for a long time, because i kept thinking, who am i? no one. i’m nothing. i’m boring. go read my writing, that’s what matters.

and then i realized, i could not have it both ways. either i wanted to be seen, or i wanted to go unseen. i was schrödinger’s validation.

so i think the very simple answer is “learn to love yourself,” but i was so far behind when it came to love, i didn’t know what loving yourself even meant. so i think a better adage is “learn love.” learn what love is, what it feels like, what it looks like. and then turn that definition on yourself and your work.

i love myself, even when i mess up, even when i’m not meeting my expectations. i love my work, even when it’s bad. when other people love me and my work, that makes me happy. when they don’t, that’s fine, because i still have plenty of my own love left.

in practicality, for a few years i basically had to constantly chant to myself “what other people think of me is not my business.” a reader’s relationship with your writing is not your obligation to know or control. it’s only your obligation to create the stories you want to tell, and maybe you share them so you can share the love you put into them, or maybe you don’t. maybe you eat the meal you cook, or maybe you share it with someone else. whether they like it or not has no bearing on who you are. it’s all just personal taste.

more importantly, you can’t generate self-beliefs externally. someone’s opinion of you or your work cannot define you, because no one has a wider view of you than you. you are the expert of yourself. it took me a long time to change all of my self-beliefs, or what i’ve come to call “life sentences,” into statements of temporality and priority. “i’m brave” turned into “i value courage.” “i’m bad at directions” turned into “sometimes i get turned around.” every time i’m about to make a sweeping judgment of myself, i try to recast it into something more malleable, because every state of the self is temporary, and i always want to give myself the opportunity to grow.

i won’t lie and say i have a totally healthy relationship with my writing. i still get jealous sometimes, although it’s much briefer and more bearable than it used to be. i still get deeply annoyed by tactless or rude feedback, but i rarely get upset. i *do* get upset when someone sends me a link to a forum or thread of people making fun of me; i think it’s hard to unlearn that. sometimes i still feel the need to defend or justify or apologize for my work. and i definitely still compulsively refresh my comment inbox whenever i post something i’m proud of. but for the most part, i’m in a much better place than i used to be.

currently i’m working on making peace with the idea of publication, that my original work treads a morally risky line that is easily misunderstood, and i’m publishing into a world of mob mentality and cancel culture. and moreover, once a work is published, once it’s out there, it can never go back in. i’m trying to figure out whether i’m confident enough now in my work to still stand by it in ten years or fifty. i’m also freaked out about how anything i publish will outlive me. as someone who has always lived with existential dread, it’s terrifying to think i may write something that could be read in a hundred years, that my voice might live longer than my body. there is a very slim chance of it, but as i’ve mentioned before, i think it’s better to plan more for success than failure.

i’m not sure if any of this is helpful, but it’s the path i took to get where i am. i wish you the best of luck navigating your relationship with your work.

my carrd | writing advice masterdoc

#writing advice #Anonymous

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final-servamp-banter · 3 years

Text

White Day Event: Gear

We stan the werewolf on this blog, his route gives me all the feels.

Gear: [Your name]? It’s me.

Gear: Tomorrow’s White Day, right? I’ll come pick you up from your place, so wait for me.

Gear: ……What? You’re in Japan, so that’s difficult?

Gear: You worry about small things, don’t you? That’s not an issue, so don’t worry about it.

Gear: All right, see you tomorrow.

(He hangs up)

You: (“Small things”, huh……)

~ 3/14 – in London, with Big Ben in the background ~

Gear: It’s evening already. We walked around quite a bit. Are you tired?

You: (Gear-san took me to a lot of places he likes…)

Player Choices (Note: Causes a split until after the next choice):

1: It was fun

2: I’m a little tired

Option 1:

Gear: I see, that’s good. That means working on this plan for a week without sleep was worth it.

You: (Eh?!)

Player Choices:

1: O-One week?!

2: Without sleeping at all?!

[Both options lead to the same dialog]

Gear: That was a joke. That’s just how enthusiastic I was.

Gear: That you were so surprised means it was worth telling that joke, too. Reminds me of how Youtarou was when he was younger.

Gear: Back then, he’d take every little thing I said seriously, but he’s grown up in the blink of an eye. Now he just says “Yeah, yeah” and brushes off whatever I say. Seriously.

Gear: I don’t want to forget that honesty of Youtarou’s, either.

Gear: ……? What are you getting sullen for? It sounds like I’m looking down on him?

Gear: I didn’t say that. I’m praising him. I’m the type who fundamentally praises humans.

------------------

Option 2 – “I’m a little tired”:

Gear: … I see. Sorry for not considering that. I don’t really get tired unless something outstanding happens.

Gear: I’ll consider that for our next date.

You: (D-Date…)

Player Choices:

1: So today was… A date, too?

2: So there’ll be… A next one?

Option 1:

Gear: I didn’t say that… Was that what you think I’d say? If not a date, what did you think it was? I don’t think there’s a man who can put together a date course as perfectly as I can.

Gear: Awkward humility isn’t good. It’s lonesome to not have confidence in yourself.

Option 2:

Gear: Of course. Depending on your schedule, since humans are usually much busier than I am.

Gear: It’s not like I have nothing to do. I’m busy, too. There’s a lot of new games and books that have piled up, after all.

[Rest is the same]

Gear: There wasn’t much time for shopping today, so next time, let’s make a department store the main part of our date.

Gear: I like to go shopping, but whenever I’m looking at home appliances, Youtarou soon says “I’m tired, I’m tired”. So we take a break and eat some ice cream.

Gear: And that’s although Youtarou looks around for ages if we’re in a clothes store. He only complains that we’re taking way too long if we’re shopping for me.

------------------

[Merge for the “It was fun”/”I’m a little tired” branch]

Gear: Well then, today we had lunch at a museum, afternoon tea… And we came here after enjoying a staple full course meal.

Gear: Your White Day Present is here.

You: (……?)

Player Choices:

1: …… Here?

2: Is there something here…?

[Both Choices lead to the same dialog]

Gear: It’s different from Valentine’s Day, isn’t it?

You: (…… Eh?! If I look closely…)

Player Choices:

1: Th-That clock tower…!

2: Big Ben…?!

3: It’s not under restoration…?!

[All options lead to the same dialog]

Gear: Yeah, Big Ben is under restoration. They’re not done working on the restauration yet.

Gear: You were disappointed when you couldn’t see Big Ben on Valentine’s Day.

Gear: So I thought I’d show you… “The appearance from a little while ago”.

You: (W-Wait a second…!)

Player Choices:

1: From a little while ago…?!

2: We went back in time?!

[Both choices lead to the same dialog]

Gear: From just before you couldn’t see it because they covered it in scaffolding for the restauration work.

Gear: Who do you think I am? I can do that much.

Gear: … Asserting that like this would be bad. Today is special. It’s not like I do this all the time. It’s not like I can do it all the time.

Gear: It’d be a problem if you thought I could do it, and it’d be a problem if there were rumors I could. So what I did today will be our secret, okay?

Gear: It’s especially a secret from Youtarou. He’d get angry at me and ask what I was doing. Maybe.

Gear: It’s like a special production just for today. It would be good if you could think of it as an illusion or a mirage. As a service just for here.

Gear: Time is transient and never returns. So doing this breaks the rules.

Gear: I just thought I wanted to give you the greatest surprise I could.

Gear: Objects decay, but emotions remain. No, I suppose in the short lifespan of humans, objects are what remains.

You: (For a White Day Gift…)

Player Choices:

1: An object might have been good

2: I prefer memories

Option 1:

Gear: Is that so? In that case, I’ll do that next year. My wish is to do something that makes you happy.

Gear: It’s wonderful to cherish tangible things in the limited amount of time they have.

Gear: I like that you can also use the object as a cue to think about your partner, or look at it to remember the time you spent with them.

Gear: … Even though that idiot didn’t seem to understand that. Ash, I mean.

Gear: I think of that promise while watching the starry sky through the hole in the roof. That way, I can think of someone far away.

Gear: The time spent thinking of others is lovely.

Gear: Unfulfilled promises may someday turn into sadness and anger, but… My life is too long to make something an “unfulfilled promise”.

Gear: That means, in short, that I’m patient.

Gear: Well, what I just said about Ash doesn’t matter. The promise we made was finally fulfilled, after over 100 years.

Option 2:

Gear: I see. That’s good.

Gear: I hope I’ve left even a small impression deep within you. Even if it’s an illusion like a dream and becomes vague once you wake up.

Gear: I hope that you’ll think, this definitely, without a doubt “happened”.

Gear: I’ll keep you within me, too. Time spent with your loved ones is irreplaceable.

Gear: I could see both your surprised and your happy face today. I’m as happy as I can be.

[Rest is the same]

Gear: In the end, living beings live for themselves. For their own joy. I’m glad that I need you for my joy.

Gear: Currently, my joy in life is made by you, Youtarou, Ash, that house, this town, and old dreams.

Gear: Thanks to you, my joy increased again. How could I not thank you for that?

Gear: Joy is the companion of living. Even the sadness of parting is a companion of living. That’s not just humans… Me and vampires like Ash are no exception.

Gear: I’m proud if I can be part of the joy in your life, too.

Gear: Give me your hand. We’ll cross that bridge together.

You: (He’s… holding his hand out to me…)

Player Choices:

1: Take his hand

2: Be overwhelmed

Option 1:

Gear: The illusion will stay until we cross that bridge hand in hand. Don’t let go of my hand on the way.

Gear: Let’s cross as slowly as possible. I want to remember your temperature, too.

Option 2:

Gear: … Ah, in that case, let’s just walk next to one another.

Gear: Even if we’re not touching, that doesn’t mean we don’t understand one another. We can be by each other’s side and love one another. That’s enough.

Gear: Well… I’d like you to allow me to at least look at your face in profile. All right, let’s go.

[Rest is the same]

Gear: Thank you for today, [Your Name].

[End]

----------------------------------

T/N: When the player goes “Eh?!” after Gear says he hasn’t been sleeping for a week, there’s still Gear’s name and avatar on there. Which I know is a bug I just find it kinda funny lmao

“It reminds me of Youtarou when he was younger” is more literally “It reminds me of the old Youtarou”/”The Youtarou from long ago”, but I’m pretty sure he means Smol Youtarou.

From the “It sounds like I’m looking down on him” to “I’m praising him”, it’s not really clear whether he means Youtarou or the player - I went with Youtarou because he was the one Gear had been talking about, but the player might as well have felt that Gear was looking down on/making fun of them (by comparing them to Kid!Youtarou), or humans in general.

When he talks about the companions of life, there’s the “that’s not just humans” bit - He may also mean that it’s something beings that are not human feel while humans don’t, but then he says he and vampires are not exceptions, which is why I included humans (After all, if it meant non-humans, Gear wouldn’t have to specify again that non-humans feel it, too)

Gear is just,,,, so precious 🥺 Like “I was looking forward to seeing you so much I wanted to plan without sleeping” PLEASE SIR KNOW I LOVE YOU.

Also. Y’know, Nicco (yes I’ll do him soon-ish) already goes all-out, but Gear just goes and breaks the rules of the space-time-continuum for you. Like, that’s commitment.

I hated having to pick “I’d rather have something tangible” ;_; Dude BREAKS THE SPACE-TIME-CONTINUUM for you and you just go “Yeah nah gimme something worth money” that’s just MEAN!

Sorry for the long T/N I just have a lot of things to say and A LOT of emotions about Gear. Like, with the vampires, it’s so easy to forget how eternal they are, that they’re immortal. Theoretically, if a Servamp decides they want to keep someone around, they can make them into a vampire. Gear can’t. Gear has been around longer than the Servamps, and since he keeps making friends, choosing to make friends, he has lost so, so many people, and it’s just, you can tell that he functions on a scale vastly different from humans. But does he decide to harden his heart, to not meet new people to avoid the heartbreak? No, he sees it as a part of life, and while it’s sad, it’s worth it to him, and I just-- 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭

#Servamp #Gear Servamp #Servamp Gear #Neugear Hatiwelt #Tanaka Box #Translation #White Day Event #Servamp White Day Event #Gear's Insta Account spells his name right at least #His insta name is ''wolf.neugier''#I love him a lot #He won my heart with his Valentine's Route and this just. ALL the feels.#Stan the wolf with me please 🥺🥺🥺

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eroticcannibal · 3 years

Text

Common myths and misconceptions about home education

So in case anyone has somehow missed it, I have recently become a Big supporter of home education in a very lefty way, which has meant I have had to challenge a lot of views I have previously held about home education and that I know a lot of other lefties hold too. I am of the opinion that embracing home education, not as a last resort, but as the primary form of education for as many children as possible, is a vital part of achieving the required shifts in society needed to meet the goals of most leftists. So I am taking it on myself to convince you all that it is a very good thing, and also to clear up some misconceptions people have about home education that may make them feel they are unable to do it.

(A note, I am from the UK and shall be using UK terminology and specifics regarding law, policy and other such things will be from a UK perspective. I shall be using the term home education, as that is the legal term in the UK and is distinct from home schooling, which is the term for what school children have been doing during the pandemic.)

And I would also like to extend a quick thanks to Education Otherwise and the mods at Home education and your local authority for teaching me A LOT.

Have any questions about anything I’ve not covered here? Just let me know!

1. “Home education is illegal.”

- Sadly, home education is illegal or restricted to the point of inaccessibility in most of the world. From the research I have done, it seems that only the US and the UK have reasonable laws around home education (if I am using a very broad definition of reasonable, it is still not great). I do hope I can change this section soon, and I would *heavily* encourage people to campaign for the right to home educate post pandemic, perhaps cite any benefits learning at home has provided to children, perhaps???

2. “Home education is a tool used by religious fundamentalists to brainwash children!”

- This is a view many hold, and for good reason. For many of us, when we think of home education, we think of christian fundamentalists in the deep south of America, pulling their children out of school to avoid the liberal agenda. The truth is, anything can be used as a tool of indoctrination. This can happen in home education, and it can happen and has happened in schools too. In my own communities we have had instances of schools being a site of religious radicalization of children. The reality is this is far too complex and deep an issue to be solved by deeming any particular form of education as “bad”. I am not an expert on how best to deal with such issues, but I do feel that things like outreach and building a healthy community with otherwise more isolated religious groups would be a better way to address these issues.

3. “You need to have x qualification to home educate.”

- Again, a reasonable view to hold, given that state run and private education does require educators to hold certain qualifications, but in practice it quickly becomes evident the same does not necessarily have to apply with home education. Educational qualifications are very much focused on delivering an education in a classroom, which is a far cry from home education. During our home education of our child, my partner, who is a qualified SEN TA, has struggled far more than I have with educating our SEN child, despite the fact I hold no qualifications.

We live in amazing times when it comes to education. There are many things that parents and communities have to teach a child, and there are many things a child can teach to themself if given the tools to do so. You can even learn together! Their are endless resources available, books and games and documentaries, and even home education groups and private tutors if you feel that is the right fit for your child. You don’t need a piece of paper for your child to spend a day with their nose buried in a book, or to help the neighbor with his vegetable patch, or to cuddle up on the sofa while watching Planet Earth.

4. “You are required to follow the national curriculum.”

- This does vary by country (that allows home education). As a general rule, the stricter a country is about who can home educate, the stricter they are about what must be taught. In the UK, you are not required to follow the national curriculum. Education must be “efficient” and suited to the child’s “age, aptitude and ability”, and LAs do require that english and maths are covered. Other than that, you are allowed to tailor the content of education to the child and their interests. We have recently dropped geography for now and are only just picking up history again. It has also given us the freedom to focus on areas our child needs that would not be covered in mainstream education, such as anxiety management, trauma processing, self care and hygiene.

5. “Home education looks like school/is just filling out workbooks/etc”

- The thing you will always hear from experienced home educators when you begin home education is “home education doesn’t need to be school at home”. Much like you can tailor the content of the learning to the child, you can also tailor the delivery to the child. Some child need structure, timetable, instructions. Some need freedom and to bounce between topics. Some need to have an hour learning maths and only maths, some need to go dig up your garden “for science”. Some want to learn every day, some will need extended breaks.

Learning happens all the time, from the moment they wake to the moment they sleep. As an example, at home we have some workbooks, as both me and my child have ADHD and need someone to go “ok learn this” rather than us having to work out for ourselves what we need to cover for core subjects like english and maths. For the rest of most days my child is left to their own devices to binge youtube and netflix and work on their art. We try and go for a woodland walk every few days, where we have Deep Discussions about all kinds of topics, and we are also working on growing edible plants and baking cakes from around the world. We are more hands-off at the moment, due to the current bout of anxiety, but when that settles again we will get back to history themed crafts and STEM activities. Post-pandemic, we will be signing our kid up for swimming classes and “after school” clubs, and looking at sending them down to my mum for the home ed groups where she lives, like the forest school. A lot of home education outside of a pandemic is in groups and community based, or will make use of libraries and museums and other public learning opportunities. Frequently very little will happen at home.

In fact many home educators will advise new families to “deschool” for a while before jumping in to learning. This is a period where you “get school out of your system”, and just exist. Learning does not have to be intentional, you will be surprised how much you can achieve by just having fun.

6. “Home education is expensive.”

- It can be, ask my bank account. However, it is perfectly possible to deliver a quality education with little to no money. I’m not saying it’s easy, but it’s doable. Their are many online resources for free (check out oak academy), and libraries have plenty available too. Even paid resources can be very cheap if you know where to look. (psst, if your kid thrives with worksheets and powerpoints, get yourself a twinkl subscription, download everything you need for a year then cancel it.)

(This does not apply to exams. Get saving!)

7. “Home educated children are not properly socialised.”

- This is only really true during the pandemic. The rest of the time, home educated children are free to socialise whenever they want, with whoever they want, in whatever setting they choose. Socialisation while home educating is in the opinions of many of a higher quality, as they are not limited to groups of a similar age and background. Many home educating families form groups for their children to socialise together too. For ND children especially, socialising while home educated can be far less stressful and far more fulfilling than in school.

8. “Home educated children won’t get qualifications.”

- Just plain not true. Arranging qualifications can be costly and time consuming, but it is possible and regularly done. Some children may return to school or college to access exams for free, and I have heard of a handful of cases where individuals were able to secure prestigious university places without any qualifications. Home education also allows for more freedom with how exams and qualifications are approached, for example, many home educated children will pick one GCSE to focus on at a time, rather than covering numerous topics over 2 years and having exams for all of them at once like children in school will.

9. “Home education is a safeguarding risk/is used to cover up abuse/home educated children are not seen.”

- In the UK at least, home education is not considered a safeguarding risk, no matter what authorities may tell you, nor are home educated “not seen”. They still visit medical professionals, they still engage with their communities.

Now I shall add the relevant paper here should I find it again, but the idea that home education is used to cover up abuse to a statistically significant degree, or that home educated children are at more risk of abuse, is false. Home educating families do face a significantly higher risk of social services involvement than other families, but far less abuse is found in comparison to other families. It is also worth considering, when talking about social services involvement, that many families pursue home education due to failures by schools regarding a child’s vulnerabilities. In most cases, especially the Big Ones, where a home educated child is abused, the child was already known to authorities as a victim of abuse, therefore home educating did nothing to hide said abuse.

Children are also routinely abused in schools, which is another common reason for home educating.

10. “Home education has to be monitored or approved.”

- Depends on the country, I know in Japan home education is monitored by schools, however in the UK, monitoring is not lawful. Local authorities may make informal enquiries to ensure a suitable education is being facilitated (keep EVERYTHING in writing and please go straight to “home education and your local authority” group on FB for advice, you WILL need it!). In England, if your child is in mainstream education, you can deregister at will, from a special school will require LA approval. In Scotland deregistering requires LA approval. (Again, head to the aforementioned group for advice).

11. “You can’t work/get an education while home educating”

- It is hard to balance work, education and educating your child, but it is possible, people do it every day. Obviously, having at least one parent free to educate unhindered at all times is an ideal situation, but in the real world it often does not work that way. Parents may have to home educate regardless of their other commitments if a child truly needs to escape the school system. Many parents work or learn from home, and sometimes it is even possible to combine these activities with home education. Professional artists and crafters can pass down their skills while working, distance learners can invite their children to sit in on lectures. The really great thing about home education is it is flexible. Do you have a whole day of meetings? Let the kid play minecraft all day! Going to be in the office all day? Drop the kid off at the local forest school or something else they can do all day. Drop them with the grandparents to help with the gardening!

12. “Home educated are behind/achieve less than school children.”

- Their is no evidence that home education is of a lower quality than school education. Many children are home educated specifically because the school environment was detrimental to their education, and thrive with home education. Plenty of children are able to learn more simply by having 1-to-1 attention, without the distraction of an entire class. And others may well be “behind”, and are educated at home because of their specific needs that mean they will never thrive in an academic setting, so they are allowed to focus on learning skills that will allow them to live independently.

#word of god #home education

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nina-a-pines · 3 years

Text

Takaishi Takari

So, a couple of days ago I mentioned I had found an old Digimon work and well... here it is. This story is really old, and it wasn’t even written in English at first, I’m translating this right now, but I honestly want to add a piece to the digimon fandom so bear with me, please. And if you guys end up enjoying it and having a good time, that’s a win ^-^

The sunset was beautiful that afternoon in Odaiba. Although it was summer, a nice breeze blew, refreshing everyone, and that included the kindergarten students, who had just left the classroom at the sound of the bell.

Among the many children who went out at that time, two of them stood out: A little blond boy with blue eyes wearing a whistle around his neck, and a little girl with medium brown hair and the same blue eyes. Both looked eight years old.

“Ahh, I'm so hungry... What you think Mommy’s cooking today?” asked the boy.

“I want omelet!” Pagumon exclaimed in the blonde's arms.

“You two are hopeless,” murmured the tanemon on the girl’s head.

And speaking of the little brunette, this one just watched and giggled. Tanemon was right, Hikaru would never change, but she liked her brother just like that. Only sometimes did he go overboard.

“Hey, race ya to the gate!” Like when announcing sudden races for example.

“That doesn't count, Hikaru!” she exclaimed, still smiling, and running after her brother.

However, in her desire to reach the blonde, she ended up bumping into another child. That entire area of the patio quieted down instantly when they saw the two of them lying on their butts, in front of each other.

“I'm sorry,” the brunette was quick to apologise, looking at the boy, whose main feature was his surprisingly light brown hair. She recognized him as Yoru, one of her classmates.

But despite the apology, Yoru looked at her with an angry face. He got up quickly and patted the dirt off his uniform before staring down at the girl. And with a mocking tone, he said:

“It had to be the Taka girl.”

A chorus of "Ohh...!" and a few giggles could be heard in the crowd that had formed around them. With the nickname, the brunette frowned, and as the usually sweet tanemon growled at Yoru, she finally got up and stared back.

“I already told you I don't like to be called that!”

“But it's the truth, everything in your name has Taka! Takaishi Takari!“ Yoru also raised his voice, emphasizing the syllables that made it possible to joke with the girl. “And it looks like your name was just because of that. What even is Takari, after all? Not even in other languages have I heard that word!”

“As if you knew all the languages in the world, Yoru!” Finally someone stepped in to defend Takari.

Hikaru returned when he noticed the crowd, getting between his sister and his classmate. Her gaze was skittish; he might be only two minutes older than Takari, but he was still the oldest. And even if the difference was two years, they always took care of each other.

“I know more than you,” replied Yoru, but he decided to take advantage of the blonde's arrival to continue his tease against Takari. “But since she's your sister, you should know that. Where does her name come from?”

Hikaru gulped, continuing to glare at the brown-haired one. Nor did he know how his parents decided on that name.

“You don't know, right?” Yoru mocked, looking at the girl over the blonde's shoulder. “I was right, your name was meant to be a joke, TAKAishi TAKAri! Taka girl!”

“Argh- Enough, Yoru!!” Hikaru finally yelled, controlling himself not to jump on and punch his classmate. “Let's go, Takari. You don't need to listen to this idiot.” He took his sister's hand, who had remained quiet until then, and left, pulling her without hurting her.

When they finally left the school and reached the end of the block, they stopped waiting for the signal. And it was only then that Tanemon spoke up.

“Nee, Takari, Hikaru is right, don't listen to Yoru,” he tried to cheer up his partner, seeing that her head was down to the point of covering her eyes with her bangs.

“Yeah, your name is... cool,” Pagumon agreed. Praises weren't his strong suit, but other than the girl being his partner's sister, she was one of the few humans he actually liked. Maybe because he liked Hikaru and the blonde cared a lot about his sister.

But not even with the support of the two digimons did Takari’s mood get better, she kept her head down.

“Forget about it, Takari,” Hikaru spoke once more, pulling her by the hand still joined when the light turned green for the pedestrians.

And they didn't exchange another word the rest of the way.

However, that didn't stop Takari from rambling the rest of the way. The girl's neurons were racing, thinking about Yoru's words. The nickname, Taka Girl, was no surprise; everyone has called her that at one time to annoy her (even Hikaru during one of their fights).

What was really bothering her was what her classmate pointed out, about where her name would have come from.

She was also curious now. She had never heard of another person named Takari, nor of anything with that name. Was it really a word from another language? And if so, what did it mean? It should be something really special, because it wasn't worth having a name that seems like a joke for nothing.

~DingDong~

The sound of the doorbell pulls her back to reality. Takari is surprised to see that they were already at their family’s apartment doorstep. She didn't even notice they had entered the building... how far were her thoughts?

The door was opened by a woman with brown hair identical to Takari's, only a little longer. The reddish-brown eyes rested on the children and a smile spread across the older woman's face.

“Okaeri, Hikaru, Takari,” She looked at the digimons. “Tanemon, Pagumon.”

“Tadaima.” Hikaru hears her sister answer, to his surprise. She was so distracted that he had had to drag her all this time by the hand.

Releasing her was the first thing he did when he realized that the girl no longer needed it.

Hikari made room for the children to come in and as they went to the bedroom she returned to the kitchen, giving the usual warning, “Take a good shower quickly, dinner’s almost ready.”

“Hai, okaa-san!” The two responded together, in an incredibly perfect sync. Hikari smiled at that.

“They're definitely twins,” Tailmon put her partner’s thoughts into words.

“Yes... they are,” Hikari just nodded, turning part of her attention to the on the oven.

I say ‘part’ because the rest focused on her children. Whenever May came, she was like this, nostalgic, thinking that they would soon be another year old when the fifth day came.

This has been going on for nine years... They were no longer those little babies she brought into the world, and they would only grow up more and more! Now they were turning nine, but before long they would have eleven, and then fourteen! Just that idea made a shiver run up her body, after all it was with fourteen that she and Takeru began to have something more than friendship.

Speaking of her husband, he wouldn't linger much longer at the publishing house, where he set things up for the announcement of his new book.

Like her, who became a teacher, Takeru also fulfilled his dream of being a writer and write down all their adventures at the Digital World. Both achieved everything they wanted and more. And the proof of that was the ring on her finger and the two children who, at that moment, were having fun making a mess in the bath.

“Hikari, the rice’s burning!” Taimon warned, seeing some beans becoming of a toasting brown.

The brunette hurried to turn off the fire, checking if her little slip hadn't compromised the meal, and sighed with relief when she found that it hadn't.

“What were you thinking about to be so distracted?” asked the digimon.

“Hm... Just a few good things,” was Hikari’s only answer, before concentrating once and for all on the pan.

Less than an hour later, the entire Takaishi family was gathered at the table.

“And then, I managed to catch the ball and shoot it into the basket!” Hikaru narrated excitedly about his day.

“It looks like we have a real basketball player here,” Hikari smiled at her son.

Both she and Takeru love this. Dinnertime was when they could pay most attention to their children and the twins made the most out of that time. Although... Takari was strangely quiet tonight, just poking food off her plate. She seemed lost in thought.

“Takari?” Takeru noticed the girl's behavior. He was used to his little girl being the life of the room, so that silence was concerning. “Is something bothering you?”

The brunette seemed to be awakened from a daze with that question from her father. She looked up only to see that both her parents and her brother were staring at her, waiting for an answer.

"Actually…" Takari started, a little hesitant if she should tell or not.

She looked at Hikaru, as if asking for his advice on what to do, and just with a look too, the blonde replied ‘If you want to tell, go ahead’. It might not be the best advice in the world, but it was enough for the girl to make up her mind. She wanted answers, so why not ask?

“Otou-san, okaa-san… Where does my name come from?”

That question took both adults by surprise.

“Why this now?” asked Takeru.

“It's just... I need to know,” she pressed the hem of her green T-shirt, trying to muster the courage to speak. “I need to know where my name came from, what it means. Because maybe then, it won't bother so much how weird it is.”

Okay, now even Hikaru was surprised by his sister's words. He didn't imagine she would put them like that. Hikari quickly turned to Takeru, worried, and she saw in the blue eyes, which still remained on Takari, a hint of pain and guilt.

“Weird...?” repeated the older blond.

“Well yeah,” Takari went on. She had already started, so now she would go through with it. – After all, what is Takari? Is it any other language?”

“Well, not exactly. – Hikari replied, wondering if what had formed her daughter's name could be considered a language or not.

“So what is it??”

“Takari, why is that now?” The girl's mother responded with another question. “Your name’s a bit different, but it’s not weird.”

"Maybe," Takari frowned, getting angry. “But when combined with my last name, it really is!”

Silence.

A heavy and uncomfortable silence settled over the place after that exclamation from Takari. Hikari stared at her daughter, shocked at those words; Hikaru was also surprised; And Takeru still had that guilt in his eyes, only now with greater intensity.

The bad mood started weighing on the little girl’s shoulders as she became aware she had created it. She was still immersed in anger, however, and so she continued to speak:

“Takaishi Takari. Takaishi Takari! Everything has Taka! And the fact that my first name doesn't exist only makes the joke even worse! Was this supposed to be a joke?!” And with a snort, she concluded her angry speech.

But she didn't stop there to find out her family's reaction. She jumped down from her chair and ran to the room she shared with Hikaru, just giving Tanemon time to come in before slamming the door shut. And she slipped dowm on it as soon as she did, letting out a long breath.

“Nee... Takari...” the digimon tried to call for his partner after a few seconds. “Don't you think you exaggerated a little?”

Exaggerated? Takari pondered about this. Yes, she had exaggerated with that last speech, but the anger that raged in her was too much. So you mean to tell her that her name, in addition to being used in bad jokes, had no meaning to it? Was it plain and simply... Takari?

She didn't pay attention to how much time had passed after she'd collapsed onto her bed and buried her face in the pillow. Takari thought it had been hours while she brooded over the latest events, but looking up at her watch, she saw that she had barely spent ten minutes thinking it over. That explained why Hikaru hadn't invaded the room yet.

But even after a short time, Takari was already gathering the courage to leave the room and face her family again. She knew she owed them an apology, especially to her dad, as she had spoken ill of the last name he had given her. She should also make up to her mother for leaving food untouched on her plate. Yeah... the list of excuses to ask was long.

Knock Knock Knock

The sound of knocking on the door caught Takari's attention. Her throat went dry. She already knew it wasn't Hikaru, as he never knocked, let alone to enter his own room. So it could only be one of her parents.

“C-come in,” Takari authorized, sitting upright on the bed and thus leaving her lap free for Tanemon to accommodate on it.

Who entered the room was none other than Hikari. She looked calm, and brought along a plate of food (the same one Takari had left behind) and a smile. But that didn't calm the girl down, she knew her mother had the gift of teaching her right and wrong without having to raise her voice.

“Hi,” Hikari greeted, walking calmly towards her daughter. “I thought you would be hungry so I brought your food,” she explained, leaving the plate with cutlery over the dresser.

“Thanks...” Takari replied in a whisper, unable to stop staring at the floor. Having her mother treat her well after what she did was worse than getting scolded for it.

“Can I have a seat?”

Still not looking up, Takari nodded and felt the bed move when Hikari sat beside her. A few seconds passed until the eldest decided to speak,

“Takari, do the boys still call you by that nickname?”

Once again, the hem of the green shirt was gripped tightly. Of course, Hikari knew about her terrible “nickname” given by her peers, since the first year of the garden, when it was created.

At the time (two or three years ago), Takari, instead of getting mad, would start crying when they called her Taka girl. And Hikaru, always willing to defend his sister, picked up a fight6 with whoever had done that. Such an attitude could not be expected to be resolved elsewhere than in the principal’s office, with the parents present. The result: both their parents and the parents of most of their class knew about that nickname.

“Yes, they do,” takari decided to be honest. “But it doesn't bother me anymore.” ... Or almost.

“Are you sure?” But Hikari almost always knew when her children were lying. ”Takari, I already explained that there's nothing wrong with having Taka in the first and last names. Is it annoying that they keep calling you that? Yes, and it is wrong as well, but the problem is not you.”

That speech did nothing, Takari barely raised her face to look back at her. Hikari sighed, deciding then to do what she had decided was about time to do, and the reason she had went to talk to her daughter in the first place.

“Do you want to hear a story?”

Finally Takari looked at her mother, with confused aeyes. A story? Now? What was the ex Yagami up to?

“About what?”

Hikari just smiled. A sweet, nostalgic and full of love smile.

“It's about two people, a girl and a boy, who you know very well, by the way.”

Flashback on: I told you guys this story was old

Was there a better way to celebrate the peacetime of the Digital World than with a picnic? In the opinion of the second generation of Chosen Children, there wasn’t. Which was why on that cool spring morning, they were on top of a hill, with a towel spread out and several snacks just waiting to be devoured. A little way away, near the river, their digimons played all together.

“You can attack, everyone! I brought only the best from the market!” Miyako spoke with evident excitement, sitting next to Ken.

“I also brought some snacks that my mother made,” Iori spoke up.

“Hey, Hikari-chan, do you want to try the noodles I made myself?” Daisuke had a bowl in his hands.

“You made that? You are really working on becoming a cook, Daisuke-kun,” Yagami commented smiling, as she accepted the bowl.

“Yes, yes! I'm still going to become a famous ramen cook,” the teenager puffed out his chest proudly, before adding with a suggestive look at her, “And my skills in the kitchen will help a lot when I cook dinner for my wife and children.

Hikari suddenly started coughing, choking a little on the noodles at those words.

“R-right?” She tried to smile at her friend, but the gesture was evidently nervous. “Your family will be very lucky.”

“We'll be very lucky! “Daisuke exclaimed, already daydreaming about four or five children, mixes of him and his beloved Yagami.

As Motomiya wandered off, Hikari glanced sideways at Takeru, who was relatively close to them to hear their conversation. As usual through the past weeks when that happened, the blond had an amusing look. However, with each time, Hikari could see a hint of annoyance growing in Takeru’s eyes. She suspected it shouldn't be easy for him to see that and keep silent.

And you know what? Hikari couldn’t bring herself to hide the fact anymore either.

A smile grew on her face with an idea.

Being sure to get the attention of all of her friends, she went to Takeru's side, and sat down with him, who just looked at her inconfusion. And in front of everyone, she took the blonde's hand and approached their faces, placing a light kiss... on his cheek.

But that alone was enough to trigger a series of reactions. Takeru himself turned red, looking wide eyed at the brunette. Daisuke started having a fit, screaming, pulling his hair and even thinking about going after the blond, but he couldn't manage with Hikari so close to him. Ken was slightly embarrassed to witness the scene, and only that. Iori at first looked surprised, but then he got a face like he was expecting that. And Miyako... Well, she was still in shock.

“Hikari-san, Takeru-kun...” she started, gradually recovering. “That right now… W-what does that mean…?”

“Minna, we have news to share,” decreed Takeru, finally calmer by the latest attitudes of his "best friend". Smiling and holding Hikari's hand a little tighter, he left the big revelation to her.

“Takeru-kun and I have been dating for three weeks.”

Two screams echoed throughout the place (if not across the Digimundo!) with that declaration. One was the "NO!!" from Daisuke, and the other one was a “KYAH!!!” from Miyako. While Motomiya slapped himself trying to see if this wasn't just a nightmare, the purple-haired girl practically danced in place.

“WOO-HOO!! My Father in heaven, my ship became canon!! TAKARI TO THE WIN!”

The girl continued her fit of hysteria, with everyone (except Daisuke) watching with drops on their foreheads.

“Takari?” Hikari repeated, finding that word to be strange. “What is that, Miyako-san?”

“Why, it's the name of your ship!” she replied as if that were obvious. “The perfect mix of Takeru and Hikari: Takari!”

Despite having found the fact of being “shipped” a little weird, Hikari ended up laughing at her friend's ideas, soon forgetting what she had said.

But Takeru didn't let it get lost so easily.

“Hmm...” he muttered, with a distant look, before smiling. “Takari, huh?”

Flashback off:

- Your father never forgot what Miyako-san said that day,” Hikari continued, still smiling and having her daughter's full attention. “And when you were born, with my hair, but looking at everything with his eyes, there was no doubt. The perfect blend of Takeru and Hikari,” she looked at the girl, her eyes full of tenderness. “It's you, Takari.

Silence reigned again, but not uncomfortable as at the dinner table. Takari just needed time to process everything she had heard. And by the flicker of her blue irises, one could tell she was experiencing strong emotions.

So that was the meaning of her name? Was that why he was so different, unique? Takari smiled, letting out a light laugh. She couldn't believe she complained about something so special!

But wait, if it had been her father who remembered about that word, then-

“Mom!” she called, getting serious all of a sudden. - Was Daddy who chose my name?

“Yes, it was,” Hikari replied simply, already knowing where her daughter's reasoning had brought her.

“I have to talk to him!” Takari declared, and jumped off the bed. But before she left the room, she smiled at Hikari. “Thank you.”

Finding her father was not a difficult task, she soon saw him in the living room, more precisely on the couch, watching a basketball game with Hikaru.

“DAD!” she exclaimed, drawing the two blonds’ attention.

Without waiting another second, she ran to them and threw herself into Takeru's arms.

“I'm sorry!” she circling as much as she could from her father's torso with her little arms. “I'm really sorry, I didn't know! I didn't mean to say that!”

“...Takari, what's wrong?” Takeru wasn’t understanding a thing, but even so he responded to his daughter's hug.

The little brunette lifted her head to look at her father. And Takeru was amazed to see that, despite smiling, she had tears in the corners of the blue orbs. Giving a sniff to chase away the crying, the little girl declared:

“I just want you to know that I no longer care about what others say,” she opened her smile even more.”I’m proud to be Takaishi Takari!”

#and here we go #takari #takeru takaishi #takaishi takeru #yagami hikari #hikari yagami #digimon #digimon adventure #digimon adventure 02 #takari takaishi #takaishi takari #takaishi hikaru #hikaru takaishi

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sokkathebluewolf · 3 years

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I am chickened out from gladiator because it is this long and it keeps getting longer is it worth my time to read it ??

... Uh, well. I can’t help but wonder if you’re aware this blog is run by the actual author of the story in question? I don’t know if you expect me to give you a non-biased answer when I’ve considered the story was worth 8 years of my life xD as far as I’m concerned, it absolutely has been worth it, but I can’t speak for the whole wide world when it comes to that. If you want the opinions of readers, there’s probably other blogs run by people who have read the story and who might have critical opinions about it... that may be what you were looking for. If, however, you were deliberately hoping to get my opinion on my own story... well, yes, for me it’s clearly worth it xD Otherwise, I would’ve quit ages ago.

The story is indeed very long and it keeps getting longer, and it will keep getting longer because we’re not done yet and won’t be for a while :’D if you’re the type of reader who can’t stand it when they catch up to stories and have to wait for updates, well, feel free to give it a shot when I’m done writing it, I guess? It’ll be a while until then, but it’s up to you. If you don’t like reading really long stories, then it’s probably better for you if you don’t force yourself to read this one, I know not everyone is ready to dedicate that much time to reading something, especially if they have lots of things to do. Hence, if the length daunts you, that’s alright, it daunts me too and I’m responsible for it xD it’s fine if that deters you from reading it.

But as the way you phrased your question almost sounded like you’re challenging me to give you some sort of sales pitch to catch your attention, let’s see if I can pull it off:

Gladiator is a massive ATLA AU, not only in terms of story length but also scope: it’s a complete rewrite of the entirety of ATLA in a more mature setting, starting chapter 1 with the characters 5 years older than they were in canon. Aang’s adventures in saving the world did not take place here because of a simple enough reason: Katara didn’t accompany Sokka on his boat on the fateful day when they were meant to find Aang, which means the story as we’ve known it simply doesn’t take place. I’ve taken liberties here and there, added some changes from canon when I needed to do so, in order to ensure the story works, but the gist of the story is to set a stage where the Fire Nation marched onwards, practically unopposed, and conquered the Earth Kingdom with the power of Sozin’s Comet (just in case it needs to be clarified, without certain technological developments, Ozai’s wild plan to incinerate the whole world wouldn’t happen, and if Team Avatar isn’t assembled before the Comet shows up, said technological developments simply wouldn’t exist... :’D). I’ve had to figure out how many details would change, how much of the original story would or wouldn’t happen without Team Avatar’s involvement, I think most my choices have been solid, but it’ll be up to you to decide if you think they are or not if you read the story.

The worldbuilding of Gladiator, then, is preeeetty huge and complicated because of that starting point. There’s a lot of elements that are completely new (such as the Gladiator League and all its derivates), some OCs, some lore expansion, so you can definitely say it’s an ambitious project. In a sense, I’ve reset canon to zero, and at the same time I haven’t, which makes things complicated but, for me, really fun to develop. If you’re interested in seeing more of the Avatarverse explored, characters repurposed, with new dynamics and relationships, Gladiator may just be what you’ve been looking for :D

In my experience, the main reason why most people stumble into this fic (other than by sorting FF.net’s ATLA stories by review count and drawing blanks upon glimpsing a Sokkla story on the first page xD) is because they’ve been drawn into Sokkla, or they’re looking for stories centered around Azula or Sokka. Gladiator, evidently, features all three such elements because, obviously, those two are the protagonists and their relationship is the beating heart of the whole tale. I’ve been asked in the past who’s the real protagonist and I honestly still have no idea xD but anyways, if you’re interested in reading a story with a toooooon of Azula character development, even if it takes place across a long, long time, this story may just do the trick. I’ve done the best I could to keep her character as true to what I believed a young adult Azula might become, within the circumstances of this story. She has grown a LOT in 200 chapters, goes without saying (if she hadn’t, I’d be one heck of a failure of an author x’D), so if you’re interested in seeing a slow but effective growth arc for Azula, you’ll certainly find that in Gladiator. Same is true for Sokka, but I think most people who come to this fic for Sokka are interested in seeing him being a badass, which we have plenty of as well xD still, it’s also a long and slow process for Sokka to grow into a powerful warrior, neither him nor Azula start out in the story with all the answers, and they both bump into many hurdles as they navigate their complicated lives.

There’s a lot of humor in Gladiator, perhaps more than expected with a story that has that sort of dark premise, but it’s, on great measure, because Sokka and Azula are inevitably given to banter xD if you want to read a lot of banter between those two, well, you may not be bored in 200 chapters because, while the nature of their exchanges does vary as they both develop, their conversations are usually pretty spirited and they love trying to outsmart each other all the time.

If you are already a Sokkla shipper and the main reason you’re here is because you want more Sokkla goodness in your life... I’ll just say Gladiator has become a bit of a dream come true for me as a Sokkla shipper as well, because it’s the perfect space for me to work with virtually every idea I’ve ever had for these two. Yes, there’s drama and conflict here and there, if you’re not too given to angst there’s a few parts of the story that won’t sit so well with you, though if you love angst you’ll probably enjoy them plenty... yet what I’m most proud of, with this story, is having developed their relationship not only as best I could, but I’ve also attempted to defy typical storytelling structures for romance stories, where the lead couple can’t seem to have a stable relationship because “that would be boring”. Screw that, man: these two have been in a serious relationship together in-story by now for well over half the published chapters, and I’ve had the time of my life writing their dynamics as a couple while the plot continues to develop around them. This, however, is not everyone’s cup of tea, so if you aren’t all that given to seeing such traditional romance storytelling structures dismissed because I wanted to write my favorite ship dealing with all their external struggles while finding strength in the bond they share, Gladiator may not hold your attention long enough for you to devote yourself to reading it beyond chapter 100-ish. On the other hand, if this subversion of romance structure is what you’ve been looking for all your life, or if it’s what you always wanted and never knew you wanted it, or if you’re simply curious as to whether it works or not, Gladiator may suit your interests fairly well. Again, Sokkla is the absolute center of this story, both together and independently, so if you want to see a rewrite of ATLA with them at the core of just... everything? xD that’s absolutely what you’ll find here.

That being said, there’s things I guess you should mind about Gladiator: I have some relatively controversial takes about certain things, including interpretations of fan-favorite characters that some people have been known to take offense over. I, personally, believe my interpretations of those characters don’t deviate that much from canon or that, when they do, the setting itself explains why the deviation works as it does, but due to the fact that I work with a protagonist who was in a villainous role back in ATLA, her relationships with some characters can be more complicated than a lot of people seem to believe they should be. Hence, if you’re not particularly adverse to reading content that brings up big questions about the motivations of certain characters, or how they’d react if the story from ATLA hadn’t happened exactly as it did, you’ll have enough fun in Gladiator. If, however, you don’t particularly care to see anything that shows beloved characters in a not-so-flattering light, this story may not be for you (though, if you’re willing to humor me and allow my story to question your perception of those characters, feel free to try the story as well).

There’s also a variety of dark themes and situations in Gladiator, something that any reader should be warned about in this day and age: I am 100% against violence for the sake of violence, to name one such subject, and I generally try to portray it with as much nuance as possible, but even if I feature my own characters criticizing their violent world and wanting to put an end to the strife caused by the Fire Nation, some of the violence in Gladiator may be a little too much for the readers who prefer the tone of the original ATLA. Hence, if that’s how it is for you, it’s another reason to approach the story with caution. I won’t pretend I’ve handled every theme and subject perfectly, but I’ve never wanted the darker moments to feel gratuitous in any way, so if you’re open to reading a darker take on the Avatarverse, this may work for you after all.

Alas! If you want to see Azula growing out of the toxic Fire Nation indoctrination, if you want to see Sokka gaining confidence and strength as a man and warrior, if you want to see a fleshed-out but still very much villainous Ozai, if you want to see Toph fulfilling her dreams of joining an all-out fighting league where she can beat people up for a living, if you want to see a myriad of secondary ATLA characters (like Song, or Shoji!) given new lives and even genuine protagonism, if you want to see Zuko discovering he’s allowed to just... be happy? xD Gladiator may prove interesting enough for you.

Furthermore, if you want to see Azula being true friends with Mai and Ty Lee, discovering a dragon, developing new firebending styles, confronting her misplaced beliefs about herself, rebelling subtly (and lately, not so subtly) against her father, growing into a great leader who could change the Fire Nation’s nefarious direction... aaand if you want to see Sokka fighting creatively (sometimes with TWO swords!), navigating the dangerous waters of interacting with Fire Lord Ozai, staying true to his beliefs while also learning that the world is not as black-and-white as he was raised to think it was, understanding himself better and making the most of his potential as a quick learner, writing embarrassing haiku and being an unapologetic rebel who goes toe-to-toe with Heads of State just because he can... yep. Probably read it? xD

Lastly... if you want to see Sokka and Azula grow through their mistakes, learning to understand each other, fighting side by side, training together, dancing to no music, learning the underrated pleasure of proper communication in a relationship, sassing each other left and right, flirting in ridiculous ways, taunting each other in many regards, laughing at each other’s terrible jokes, protecting each other fiercely, challenging each other to a spicy ramen eating contest, discovering indirect bending, being highly inappropriate at times and places where they shouldn’t be, making long, dangerous yet fun journeys together, sneaking around to meet up when they’re not supposed to, standing by each other in their darkest moments, watching over the other when they’re sick/injured, being ready to sacrifice virtually anything for each other, and even defying and defeating even death to save each other...? Well, I don’t know if there’s any other stories where you might find all of this, but I can guarantee you’ll find it in Gladiator :)

If none of this is convincing enough... that’s a shame, but I understand. If it convinced you to give it a shot, however... I guess I’ll just hope you enjoy it enough to stick around! :) thanks for taking my story into consideration regardless of whatever you decide. Have a nice day!

#anon #ask #gladiator #self-promotion I guess?

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misssunflowersandsangria · 3 years

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How Lovely Are

Hello my lights! I have a quick fluffy holiday story. I was going to wait till it was closer to Christmas but I think we all collectively need some happy holiday fluff. I’m tagging this as a modern AU but it could occur in the Narutoverse with some adjustments.

Summary: Christmas was rapidly approaching and a last-minute purchase at a flower shop would completely change Sai’s life.

** How Lovely Are

Ino happily rearranged the flowers humming a familiar tune as she worked. Working at the family flower store had always been one of her favorite jobs, but especially during this time of the year. She always took great care making the arrangements that would be the centerpieces for so many wonderful celebrations. It was like putting a little bit of herself into what she created. It was almost the big day so it was simultaneously slowing down while speeding up. There were just a few orders left to fulfill but not too many being placed. The shop itself was pretty quiet after a morning rush so now it was just her, the flowers, and Christmas music. A pretty perfect afternoon if you were to ask her.

“Welcome,” She announced after hearing the bell at the door jingle.

She turned to look at the customer before stopping dead in her tracks. He was gorgeous, tall, pale skin with deep, ink colored eyes.

He brushed the snowflakes from his coat before looking up his eyes widening in surprise.

“Hello.”

She cleared her throat before finding her voice. “Hi, welcome. Is there something I can help you find?”

“Yes, this might be an odd request but do you happen to sell Christmas trees here?”

She shook her head. “No, unfortunately, we don’t.”

“Oh, it was a long shot anyway. I’ve just returned home and being so close to the holiday most places have sold out. Thank you…”

“Ino.”

“Thank you Ino, I’m Sai. I guess that I’ll be going-”

“Wait, uhm. Give me a second.” She panicked at the idea of him leaving so quickly from the store and subsequently out of her life.

Ino ran to the back where she had decorated the office in a slew of ornaments and holiday cheer. She grabbed the small tree from the desk hoping that the handsome man wouldn’t think it was an odd choice.

“Here.” She pushed the potted tree into his hands and he gazed surprised at the small decorated plant.

Ino began to feel foolish at his stare. She knew it wasn’t exactly what he was looking for.

“I’m sorry, I know that it’s not very large. It’s probably not what you’re looking for-”

“No, Ino, thank you. This is perfect.” He assured her genuinely grateful for the tiny tree in his hands.

She was floored by the sincere gratitude. “You’re welcome.”

“Is this for a party or a dinner?” She asked curiously hoping that it wasn’t a gift for a significant other.

“No, I'm not typically home during this time of the year so this is somewhat unprecedented. I’ll just be by myself so I thought that it would be good to have some decorations to make it a little less lonely.”

“Come to my house!” The sadness and heartbreak in his striking eyes led to the impromptu invitation.

He looked at her surprised. “Ino?”

“Come celebrate with me. My parents are a little ridiculous, and we celebrate with my aunts and uncles too. There’s a lot of food and everyone probably has a drinking problem. It’s loud and messy but it’s fun in that kind of chaotic way. No one should be alone during this time of the year.” Family time was inescapable during the holidays but she knew that she was luckier than most. It was impossible to imagine the season without her family and their precious traditions.

Sai gazed at her curiously completely floored by the invitation. The plan to get a Christmas tree was completely on a whim. He didn’t want to admit but he’d been staring at couples and families longingly as they rushed through the town buying gifts or heading to their celebrations. It made him want some semblance of warmth and holiday cheer. He couldn’t have ever expected the gorgeous blonde offering to spend such a special season with him. It was by far the kindest gesture that had ever been extended to him.

Part of him wanted to politely decline as socializing had never been his strong suit. The idea though of disappointment in her dazzling blue eyes would be far worse than any awkwardness he might have to endure.

“Thank you Ino, I would love that.”

Sai surveyed the annual Christmas dinner. It hadn’t changed too much over the years. It was still far too loud, everyone most definitely had a drinking problem but it was warm and familiar and represented the best part of the holidays. His son was busy playing with his new toys along with Shikadai and ChouChou.

He recalled fondly that first Christmas that he and Ino had spent together. Everyone had welcomed him in with open arms teasing Ino that it was about time that she’d brought someone home. Her two closest friends had been bringing along their significant others for years now and were happy to ease Sai in. He loved all the traditions, helped where he could, and participated in the family games. All the while Ino laughed and celebrated alongside him. It made him realize just how much he’d been missing. And how badly he wanted to hold onto that feeling.

In just a few years he’d gone from being completely alone and now he had his own family and was a Yamanaka. In addition, he gained a huge extended family. They were all far too close and way too invested in each other’s lives. And he couldn’t imagine life without them. Ino had given him everything that he’d never allowed himself to believe could be his.

On the table was a small potted, decorated Christmas tree. It had become a tradition of his to bring one along.

Ino slid up next to him and his arm wrapped tightly around her.

He kissed the top of her head affectionately thanking life and the universe for giving him the greatest gift that he could have ever asked for. His wife, their son, and this family. A kind of holiday miracle if there ever was one. “Merry Christmas Sai.”

“Thank you Beautiful.”

“You know I still owe you a gift.” He peered at her, they’d both agreed not to get each other gifts, which of course he didn’t follow.

“My love I have everything that I could ever want.” She grinned knowing that he genuinely meant that.

Those sky blue eyes that he adored took on a joyful quality. “Well, this one might take about 9 months to come?” His eyes widened in realization.

“Really?” He asked, surprised with tears lining his eyes.

She nodded brushing away her own tears. “We’re going to have another baby.” Saying it out loud made it all the more real.

Sai gathered her into his arms. Excitement and joy hitting him all at once. Early in his life, he couldn’t have imagined having a wife, let alone a son. Now he would be a father of two. It was worth it all to be at this point.

“Mommy, is daddy okay?” Ino nodded while picking up Inojin.

“He’s just happy Jin. How do you feel about being a big brother?” She asked her son affectionately brushing his hair back.

Inojin stared not quite sure how to respond. “So I would have someone to play with all the time?”

“Yes, you’ll get to watch over and help us take care of the baby.”

“I guess that’s okay then. Shikadai seems to like Yoshika even though she’s little and can’t do anything. I bet that I’ll be an even better big brother than he is.”

Ino and Sai smiled hugging him tightly. “I’m sure you will baby.”

Once they told Inojin the word spread and her parents were inconsolable as tears rained down from their eyes. Inoichi was joyful beyond compare at the idea of his baby having another baby. Being a grandfather had easily become his favorite role. He’d become jealous that Shikaku had two grandchildren and had been dropping not so subtle hints that the Yamanakas needed to catch up. Their family was growing and everyone was excited at the idea of a new baby joining them next year.

Mikino came into the world like a soft gentle snow. Ice blue eyes that looked as striking as a snowflake, with jet black hair. She was happy, playful, and a true reflection of the meaning of her name. She was already a daddy’s girl. If she cried or fussed one hug from her father was enough to ease those tears and Sai adored his baby girl.

Inojin was so much like his mother, Fierce, intelligent, loyal, and strong. Sai wondered if his daughter might take after him. Perhaps she’d be more quiet, contemplative, and grow to be as gorgeous as her mother. He never imagined he could love anyone more than Ino and now with his two children, he easily discovered that his heart could carry so much more.

That first Christmas Inojin held Mikino showing her the brightly colored lights on the tree. The lights reflected in her deep eyes as she curiously took in all the new sights and sounds.

“When you’re bigger Miki you can help me decorate the tree. It’s a big deal in our family.” Inojin explained to his little sister as he showed her the ornament he’d painted to commemorate her first Christmas with them.

Ino held onto her husband, both of them quiet and thoughtful watching Inojin and Mikino. This time of the year had always been Ino’s favorite but her family brought her joy all year long.

She kissed Sai as the images of shared holidays and happy times played in her head. He always thanked her for welcoming him into her life. For bringing him a certain kind of completion. He never quite understood that he’d done the same for her.

Peace, love, and joy all present in that room. Who knew that a search for a tree could have led to all of this?

I hope that a handsome man comes into your place of business, sweeps you off your feet and you live happily ever after :D

Also, everyone say welcome to my new OC, Mikino, Sai, and Ino’s baby girl. If you’ve read my story “Nursery Rhyme,” that introduced my OC Yoshika, Shikamaru and Temari’s daughter. I haven’t written anything yet but Chouji and Karui also have a daughter and her name is Chouchi. They are a badass all-girls team of InoShikaCho. I hc that they all go by nicknames, Miki, Yoshi, and Chi. Maybe one day I’ll expand on this idea but for now, let’s all just imagine Sai having a sweet daughter.

Last year I did a 12 days of Christmas thing for InoShikaCho, “My True Love Gave to Me,” but I don’t know that I can do that again this year, but we will see. (If ya’ll have some cute fluffy holiday prompt ideas message me :D)

Thank you for reading my loves! I know it’s crazy this year and things are really tough for a lot of people so I hope that you can find some joy and light in all of the chaos. Love you all.

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toenialls · 4 years

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hi ! here’s a fic rec i made bc what better time to read fics than a quarantine. i’ve ordered them below from longest to shortest. :)

these are all the fics i’ve read/re-read this quarantine

hiding place by alivingfire @alivingfire (365k)

louis never wanted a soulmate, didn’t really care for the whole Bonding thing at all, really. enter harry styles, who’s wanted to be Bonded for as long as he could remember. with one fateful meeting in a x factor bathroom, louis gets a dagger on his arm and the realization that just because harry is his soulmate doesn’t mean it’s mutual.

from the x factor house to madison square garden, from the fountain studios stage to stadiums across the world, louis has to learn to love without losing himself completely, because someday his best friend will Bond to someone and replace louis as the center of his universe. meanwhile, harry begins to think that maybe fate doesn’t actually know what it’s doing after all, because his other half has clearly been right in front of him the whole time. all he has to do now is convince louis to give them a chance.

or, the canon compliant harry and louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide.

relief next to me by dolce_piccante @haydolce (333k)

au- what happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific craigslist post? fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.

young & beautiful by velvetoscar @mizzwilde (227k)

louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name zayn malik means something, niall horan doesn’t stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and harry styles, only son o a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes

now in a minute by thealmightyavocado @avocadolouie (150k)

13 feels like yesterday for many people, but for louis it actually was.more than anything in the world, louis tomlinson dreams of growing up. simply skipping over all the awkward embarrassing years of teenage existence and getting on with life, real life.

so when thirteen-year-old louis wakes up in the body of his thirty-year-old self, he expected his adult life to be picture perfect. and maybe it is. he has it all…or so it seems.

except his favorite person and lifelong best mate, harry styles, is totally missing from the equation and louis doesn’t understand why. he has a lot of catching up to do and as adult life turns out to be more than what he bargained for, louis can’t help wondering why a life that seemed so perfect, feel so empty.

or, the 13 going on 30 au that should have been done years ago.

walk that mile by purpledaisy (149k)

harry stares at him, the line of his jaw standing out scarily. “i wanted to get the most out of this trip so i planned it carefully.” his voice is low and steady and somehow that’s worse than when he was yelling. “so far, you’ve put your sticky fingers on everything i’ve tried to do.”

"sticky fingers?“ louis repeats. offended. “are you saying it’s my fault you got stung by a bee? had you been alone you would have gotten halfway to the dotty diner and ran the car off the road because of an allergic reaction, so don’t go blaming me.”

"polk-a-dot drive in,“ harry spits before getting out of the car. he slams the door shut with a deafening reverb and louis rolls his eyes.

or, a route 66 au where falling in love was never part of the plan.

own the scars by crinkle-eyed-boo @crinkle-eyed-boo (144k)

“but i don’t belong here,” louis insists.

"why do you say that?“ james asks.

"these people are all drug addicts and alcoholics,” louis shrugs. something sparks in james’ eyes. “and you’re not?”

louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friends, for the life he’s supposed to want. after an accident that nearly costs him his life, louis’ parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to make his own decisions. on the long and difficult road to recovery, louis must confront the truths he;s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.

wear it like a crown by zarah5 @zarahdetand (141k)

au- as a part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in buckingham palace, louis expects prince harry to be a lot of things – most notable a royally spoilt brat. never mind that the very same prince harry used to star in quite a number of louis’ teenage fantasies.

unbelievers by isthatyoularry @isthatyoularry (136k)

it’s louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. however, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifying uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life that much worse. mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

or, the one where louis and harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything

empty skies by green_feelings (134k)

for three years, harry has been running from his past. now, he is moving to london and pledges to fulfill only his dream – making it big in the music industry. not everyone has a place, though, and the competition is tough. as is his past catching up to him.

louis is part of the biggest boy band of the world, and getting there meant a lo to hard work, as well as sacrificing parts of his heart and soul. he’s still happy. maybe not as happy as he could be, but who is he to complain?

featuring perrie as harry’s adorable flatmate, niall as his manager, and liam and zayn as louis’ bandmates.

love is a rebellious bird by 100precentsassy @100percentsassy gloria_andrews @gloriaandrews (134k)

au. in which the boys still make music. louis is the concertmaster of the london symphony orchestra, harry is the new! and exciting! interim conductor / ex-cello prodigy who “has made mozart cool again” according to esquire magazine (louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and niall is the best. zayn and liam are around too.

don’t hum Bolero

wild love by purpledaisy (130k)

“good,” julia says, clearly pleased to have them both uncomfortable and unable to look at each other. “now, i only have one more question before you can go. what are you planning to do when this experiment ruins your friendship?“

"we said we’d stay friends no matter what,” harry says smoothly his chin lifting in defense.

"that was our one thing going into it,“ louis agrees. “stay friends no matter what.”

julia raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow, “that’s all fine and good. but i hope you realize your emotions aren’t going to realize this is an experiment in the end. if one of you falls for the other and finds out those feelings are not reciprocated you’re not going to be able to laugh it off as a social experiment. i’m not saying you shouldn’t do this, i’m just hoping you’ve considered all of the possible outcomes.”

or, two friends try to date each other for forty days. it’s supposed to be fun until emotions make it complicated

got the sunshine on my shoulders by hattalove @hattalove (124k)

five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist, he didn’t have much regard for what he left behind– a life, a family, a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.

now, harry has everything he could possibly want. he’s rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. but when said boyfriend proposes to him, he’s forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past– and louis, who’s spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him.

or, au based on the movie sweet home alabama.

california sold by isthatyoularry (123k)

notoriously closeted boyband member harry styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile louis, as his best friend, is back home in manchester living the typical life of a 24 year old. when harry needs louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

or, a fake-relationship au between two lifelong best friends.

the finish line (is a good place for us to start) by loadedgunn @loaded-gunn (122k)

louis tomlinson, one-time formula i world champion, is looking forward to the 2013 season, he’s got zayn in his garage and liam in his ear, he’s got cowell racing backing him despite former indiscretions, he’s got experience and the best race car out there. not to mention he’s the only racer they have, after oliver dropped out late last year.

it hasn’t occured to him that oliver would have to be replaced by february. that is, until he finds himself at a party celebrating harry styles leaving ferarri for cowell. harry hotshot styles, who broke a record last year and is probably looking to make a big splash. harry styles, who is talented and somewhat intimidating. harry styles, who left ferarri for reasons unknown and seems kind of lonely and harmless in person. lonely, harmless, hot as fuck. whatever.

the first thing louis does is take him under his wing. from there it’s nine months of slow-burning romance, the past catching up to them, turning into the human puppy pile that is ot5 and a lot of feelings until, of course, reaching the finish line.

tired tired sea by mediawhore @mediawhorefics (113k)

as a b&b owner on the most remote of all the british isles, louis tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sol companions. until one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

here in the afterglow by fondleeds @fondleeds (88k)

"if you hadn’t noticed, i don’t have many friends,” louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing his way into his throat.

harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes louis’ stomach shake. “i’ll be your friend.”

or, 1970’s au. in a tiny town in idaho, louis’ life changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

chasing empty spaces by domesticharry @domestic-harry (79k)

the year is 1934 and harry styles was to inherit the largest tobacco firm in the south. his parents have picked out the “perfect” girl for him to marry and he has the privilege of receiving the highest education possible. the problem was, harry hadn’t realized that he didn’t want nay part of the future until he met a mechanic named, louis tomlinson.

don’t want shelter by kingsofeverything @kingsofeverything (76k)

louis and harry have known each other all their lives. friends as children, they danced around each other as teenagers, and have spent the last twenty-five years either screaming at each other or not speaking at all. except for that one time ten years ago...

when hurricane nicole threatens the coast, they end up stuck together in their families' old vacation home that they begrudgingly co-own.

during the storm, and in the months after, they’re both forced to reevaluate their history and what they mean to each other

money moves by mmaree @zqua1d (74k)

"i’ll cut straight to the chase,“ liam announces. he leans forward, and zayn is met with steely eyes and steepled fingers. "i’m willing to offer you fifty grand if you’ll enter into a small…partnership with me. this would be in addition to your salary at payne innovations, of course. think of it as a bonus.”

zayn narrow his eyes. “what kind of partnership?”

"a fake engagement.“

"oh,” zayn says, relived it’s nothing illegal. “wait–what?”

“a fake engagement,” his boss repeats slowly, as if he’s convinced zayn’s comprehension skills are significantly lacking. “for six months. maybe less if i can pull it off sooner but don’t worry– you’ll be paid the full sum regardless of how long it takes.”

zayn’s suspicious, and he doesn’t even know why. there’s nothing to be suspicious of because, clearly, liam’s lost the plot. zayn’s having a conversation with a complete nutter. there’s no other reasonable explanation.

he clears his throat, searches liam’s eyes for a sign he’s taking the piss. “how long what takes?”

a smile plays at liam’s lips. “for me to be hired as the cto at titan technologies.”

to the ends of the earth by stylinsoncity @aliensingucci (68k)

during a yearlong hiatus, louis visits harry at his cabin in idaho, where long-buried feelings ignite like the fire keeping them warm.

lend me your hand by quickedween (63k)

society has long since decided that the soulmarks everyone is born with are entirely unfashionable. they’re just another way for people of a lower class to scam their way into marrying above their station.

lord louis tomlinson viscount loring, on the other hand, has always believed that he will find his soulmate one day. despite preparing for a match his whole life, he is entirely unprepared for the arrival of gemma styles’ younger brother.

harry styles has been travelling and away from society for over a year. coming back, he intends to spend time with his sister, and slowly reacquaint himself with life in town. he doesn’t need to wait around for a soulmark to determine how his life will play out.

small doses (loving you it’s explosive) by quickedween (40k)

louis tomlinson finds himself at vitality fitness to try and turn his life around after having left his cheating boyfriends of four years. the gym’s owner, liam, quickly becomes a good friend but his right hand man is rude and dismissive from the get-go.

louis and harry continue to clash all while harry is trying to move his way up the ranks in manchester’s amateur boxing circuit, but they can’t seem to stay away from each other.

learning to eat by photo41 (28k)

celebrity chef louis tomlinson has a problem, he’s opening his first restaurant in 9 week . and he has yet to hire a pastry chef- apparently people think he’s “standoffish” and “rude” and “quick to temper” . whatever. he ends u saddled with an annoying, happy-go-lucky rookie who also happens to be obnoxiously good looking. his tv presenter and pop star friends only add to the drama, and for fucks sake would everyone please stop quoting julia child?!

these roads we stumble down by onewasturning @onewasturning (18k)

he’s completely drenched, not one milimetre of him covered in rain, and the old sheepskin cover over the seat is probably going to stink afterwards from the damp. but even with what seems to be a constant tremor shaking his body, brown hair plastered to his forehead, and a blue tinge to his skin, he’s still probably the most gorgeous person that harry has ever seen.

or, harry picks up a hitchhiker in oxford, and it’s a long ride to glasgow.

#this took an embarassing amount of time and its not even all of them #anyways hope this was useful to someone !#also i am allergic to capital letters muah #fic rec #mine

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buckybabybaby · 4 years

Text

Birthday Wish

A/n: As promised, Bucky smut to celebrate this blog turning 3 on Wednesday!! And the first time I posted fanfiction! (And me turning 27...)

If you're not over 18 please don't read.

Proof read by way of a text-speech device

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Female) friends to lovers

Word count: 2055

Warnings: 18 + Smut. Thigh ridinggg ;)

Plot: Bucky finds your fan blog, and decides to reward the birthday girl

(I'm posting this in May 2020, so you can imagine you and Bucky are stuck together because you're in quarantine like half the world is atm, but if you're reading this in the future when (hopefully!) we're a bit more free to move just imagine you're on a mission or awaiting rescue or something, and that's why you're together...)

(Part Two)

added in May 2021!

Birthday Masterlist – the other fics I've written on my birthday in the past 3 years are all here

Main Masterlist

*****

“Y/N? Can I borrow you for a minute?”

This isn't an unusual request from Bucky. Ever since he joined the team, the two of you have spent many hours together, working through one issue or another. Sometimes it'sa trivial problem, like how to use the fancy coffee machine or turn on the gyms sound system, other times its more delicate in its nature, such as helping him catch up on eighty years of rather eventful history, some of which he had an unwilling hand in.

More often than not though, it is to do with the internet, and the endless mess it throws at him. Judging by the laptop resting in front of where he's sat, you're guessing he's found something else to worry about.

“What seems to be the problem, Bucky?” You ask, wandering out of the kitchen and into the living room, taking a seat next to him on the sofa.

“No problem, not right now at least. I just wanted to talk.”

“Oh?”

He nods. “First, close your eyes.”

As instructed, you shut your eyes. Being isolated with Bucky for over a month now, you're so comfortable around him you don't even question his request, somehow knowing that his intentions aren't malicious. It feels like that trust goes both ways, too, as before this forced seclusion together he wouldn't have let you sit any wear near as you are right now.

“I found this in the supply cupboard last time I was using the vacuum. I thought it would be appropriate, given what day it is.”

Blinking your eyes back open as you feel him place something lightly on top of your hair, he smiles softly at you as you reach up to take it off and work out what it is.

“Happy birthday.”

Your gaze, which had been fixed on the sparkly tiara adorned with those two words in silver gems, snaps back up to meet his in shock.

“How-?”

“You think I'd forget?” He laughs kindly. “I was at your party last year.”

“But still, with everything-”

“I know, and I know why you didn't mention it.” He takes the tiara from your grip and replaces it upon your head. “You think just because we can't go out anywhere or see any of your other friends, then its not worth celebrating?”

“Kinda?”

“Doll,” He chides. “We can have fun together can't we?” The air in the room shifts and feels heavier as his fingers linger close to the side of your face, and you don't think it's your imagination that his voice has got deeper. “Isn't this what you wanted? Just you and me?”

“Err?”

He opens his laptop and turns it towards you. “This is the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. I think you'll find this quite interesting.”

Leaning into his space to see the screen, the image in the corner grabs your attention, and when he scrolls further down the page to reveal the whole picture, your body goes rigid with fear.

Bucky is on your blog.

More specifically, your fan blog dedicated to the man sitting next to you, where you've shared every dirty thought you've ever had about him, and had very explicit conversations about what you want him to do to you.

“Recognise this, Y/N?”

Time unfreezes, and as the adrenaline kicks in you stand so quickly you get dizzy, bolting for the front door to escape. Unfortunately your light-headedness makes you slow and Bucky easily catches up before you can get too far. Spinning you back round to face him and walking you half a step backwards to the wall, his hands come up on either side of your head to box you in, and you swallow at the audible 'click' of the lock as he commands the security system to seal you in.

“Where are you off to, sweetheart?”

You can't look at him. Never before have you regretted something more, wished you could turn back the clock, or just simply disappear. Why did you think you could get away with it? There's no one to blame for this situation but you and your stupid arrogance.

“I'm sorry,” You whisper, still avoiding eye contact. “I never meant for you to find that.”

“Clearly,” He says, laughing under his breath until he notices the tears forming. Tilting your head up so your gazes meet, he smiles reassuringly. “Hey, I'm not angry. Or creeped out or disgusted, or anything. I didn't let you know I'd found out to make you cry, especially not on you're birthday. So please don't get upset.”

Wiping at your cheeks gently, he continues to speak calmly. “I may seem clueless when it comes to technology, but I can put my own name into a search engine, and when I found this blog with very specific details about me only someone close would know, it didn't take long to put two and two together. Especially when they'd post about their day, couldn't be a coincidence every time that it was exactly what you'd done too, could it? I've known about this for a while now, if I felt uncomfortable about it I would have said something sooner.”

“Why now?” You whisper, letting one of your hands move up to grip at the hem of his top, a more pleasant sort of internal heat taking over from the shame even as your heart continues to race.

“Thought I'd fulfil that birthday wish you posted about this morning.”

You nearly go limp against the wall behind you at his words, so turned on you can't think straight, tugging sharply on his shirt as he chuckles at your reaction.

“Thought you might like that,” He grins slyly. “There is some absolute filth on that blog of yours, darling. Where's that Y/N been hiding?” Guiding your arms over his shoulder, his mouth presses kisses along the column of your neck. “Some of the things on there I never even knew existed, definitely not things I ever would've imagined you'd be into.”

Bucky pushes he hips into yours, and you gasp at the feel of his erection. “Sweet little innocent Y/N. Not so innocent it seems, hmm?”

Your positively dripping at this point, the ache in between your legs growing with every second Bucky fails to do anything about it.

“And what was it you were talking about earlier, huh?” He teases a hand over your collar bone, where your skin is flushed and hot to the touch. “Thigh riding?”

You whine as he says that, knowing how in-depth you'd gone on that particular post. “Oh yes, Y/N. I know all about how much you love having-”

“I've never actually-” You squeak out, voice breaking at the end as you try to defend yourself.

Most of your blog is just talk, without any real life experience to base it off, but that was what it is there for. An outlet for your frustrations, especially after spending all day with Bucky.

His surprised expression quickly morphs back into lust at your admission. “Never? How about you test it out then, see if it lives ups to the reality?”

You can barely get enough air into your lungs to stay upright, let alone form a reply, but he waits patiently as you process your thoughts.

Pushing all your nerves aside, you nod shyly. “I mean, I don't really know how-”

Grinning at obtaining your consent, he gracefully sweeps you up into his arms. “That's alright, we can figure it out together.”

He's sat back on the sofa before you know it, this time with you on top, his hands resting gently on your sides as you try to work out what you should do.

A light swat to your bottom makes you jump. “Come on, Y/N, don't keep me waiting.”

The slight dominance in his tone has you hurrying to comply, eager to please. Shuffling onto your knees so you can rise up off of his lap and quickly slip off your joggers, you lower yourself back down on to one of his thighs and rest your arms over his shoulder again as you breathe heavily.

Cautiously rolling your hips, the resulting spark of pleasure is a welcome surprise. Even in your lust fogged internet rambling, you had considered how awkward this could be outside of fantasy, but with Bucky its easy. It feels like his thigh was made for this, just the right size between your legs to have you whimpering, seeking out more as his hands on your waist push you to move faster.

“Oh, fuck Bucky,” You moan shakily, finding the perfect rhythm quickly with his help.

He watches open mouthed as you grind on him, pupils blown at the sight. “That's it, good girl. Take what you need.”

You hadn't expected it to feel so good, even though you're still wearing your panties, and Bucky's own trousers are soaked with the evidence of your arousal. Normally you need a lot of stimulation to feel good, a lot of build up to get you anywhere close, and before today you couldn't imagine anything could feel this intense this fast.

Maybe its the days and weeks of confinement that have had you on edge and frustrated constantly, or maybe its just because its Bucky Barnes, but either way, your high is nearing in record time and there's not a thing you can do to stop it.

“Bucky, I'm-”

“I know sweetheart, I've got you. Let go.”

His wish is your command, your body shuddering as you reach your climax, clinging desperately to him as white hot pleasure shoots through you, your toes curling and breath coming in shakily. He helps you through it, moving his thumb to rub circles over your clit just as you're recovering, sending you into another spiral of bliss, his name mumbled quietly as you twitch.

Bucky watches you closely as you come down, your body going floppy in his hold once the ringing in your ears dies down, and then his lips are on yours for the first time, hands cupping your face to keep you close. He can't resist you, not when you're all blissed-out and pliant in his lap.

Nobody could resist you like that.

Too quickly for you to react and return the kiss, he's jolting away, back pressing into the cushions of the sofa as if he's trying to escape.

“Shit, I'm sorry,” He gasps, avoiding your puzzled stare. “I shouldn't have done that, I don't even know if you like me in that way-”

You cut of his panicked rambling by pressing your mouth to his again, not able to kiss him properly as you're still short of breath, just pecking at his lips clumsily in an attempt to convince him of your deep feelings.

In a reversal of roles from earlier, you rest your forehead against his to catch his eye. “Of course I like you outside of... this. I like you a lot Bucky, and I'd like you a lot more if you kissed me again.”

He does just that, sucking gently on your lower lip when he pulls away with a grin. “Would you also like to have dinner with me tonight?” He asks, a little of his confidence back as he anticipates your answer. “I know we can't go out properly, but it could still be a date?”

“I'd love that,” You say, leaning into his chest happily.

He grunts quietly as you shift in his hold, your elation at finally getting everything you want with Bucky making you forget for a second about his own arousal still trapped between your bodies.

Deliberately rocking your hips into his again, his eyes darken at your giggled, “Oops?”

“Little brat. Just because you're wearing that tiara doesn't mean you can act like a princess. Was that not enough to satisfy you?” At the shake of your head, he purses his lips “Well, I'm not that hungry quite yet. I think it would be a good idea to go work up an appetite, and maybe work through your other little fantasies?”

Picking you up and carrying you in the general direction of the bedrooms, Bucky's smirk has you squirming all over again.

“If I remember correctly, there was something on that blog of yours about my face between your thighs.”

******

(Part Two)

A/n: Happy birthday if it is your birthday today!!! all the kissess xxxxxxxx

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #buckybabybaby

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iworshipkeanureeves · 4 years

Text

There Are No Rules (3/3)

Keanu Reeves x Reader (The Devil Wears Prada AU)

A/N: The series has come to an end and I’m a little sad about it because I had too much fun exploring this universe, but I hope you’ll enjoy this as much as I did. Thanks @toomanystoriessolittletime for this opportunity to participate in your writing challenge, and I can’t wait to wish you a happy birthday!

Summary: Reader applies for a job in a fashion magazine where Keanu is editor-in-chief.

Warnings: none

Words: 3.5K

-Part 2-

The morning they had to leave, Keanu sent a car to Y/N’s home. Opening the door, she was relieved to find out he wasn’t sitting inside, and she was informed that he would be meeting her at the airport. Y/N was still a little embarrassed from the previous night, thinking it would have been wiser not staying for that drink, and it was easing to know they wouldn’t be sharing an awkward car ride.

Y/N had no idea what to expect but she was definitely amazed to learn that Vogue owned a private jet. Sadly, it was only reminding her how much out of place she felt. Y/N had never been on one before, and no matter how excited she was, there was a feeling of anxiety accumulating in her core. This lifestyle wasn’t hers, she did not know how to behave, especially at all the shows she was going to attend with Reeves. She was afraid to be a disappointment.

Y/N was greeted by Nigel rushing her to get on board, while the driver was taking care of her luggage. Stepping inside, Y/N acted like she was looking around for a place to sit but her eyes were actually scanning the place and searching for Reeves.

He was already asleep with his ears plugged and a black satiny sleeping mask covering his eyes. It didn’t come as a surprise after the sleepless night that Keanu and Y/N had shared, still unsettling thoughts were running in her head, thinking that maybe Keanu was pretending, just to avoid interacting with her.

Y/N, on the other hand, was unable to rest. She was nauseous, worried that things were going to be weird between Keanu and her, and to make the matters worse, they would be stuck together for a whole week. Y/N was also disgusted by her own actions, knowing it was Emily, who should have been on this jet, flying to Fashion Week she had been dreaming about for so long. Instead, Y/N selfishly took her place, and she hadn’t even had the guts to apologize yet.

Nigel seemed like he had a sleepless night too. He had probably spent the bigger part of it making a wardrobe switch, throwing away outfits he had spent a lot of time putting together. Not only Y/N’s and Emily’s sizes differed, but their styles too, so Nigel had only a few hours to come up with something completely new. It was another reason for him to hate the fact that Y/N was coming instead of Emily, and he wasn’t afraid to openly express it with his sulking look.

Spending long hours on that jet, Y/N couldn’t help but think, how a simple refusal could have solved most of these problems, and how she would be enjoying a calm day at the office now.

---

Surprisingly, the Fashion Week was going way better than Y/N thought it would. It opened up a whole new world for her, and Keanu was there to guide her. Indeed, he was being very nice and patient with her, Y/N really enjoyed having her boss this way. Sometimes Y/N even felt like he was the one assisting her, as Keanu would help with where to go, what to do, what to say, and she was thankful, because otherwise she would have been completely lost.

Keanu was also good with dissipating any remaining awkwardness between them, and a couple of days in, Y/N had almost forgotten that uncomfortable exchange at his place. They were back at ‘friendly professional‘, and even if Y/N had been craving the kiss, she liked having their relationship this way. It was less stressful, and she could properly enjoy the events of the Fashion Week.

Y/N didn't feel excluded at all, Reeves was taking her everywhere, and he was even encouraging Y/N to converse with people. Not that she often dared to, but still, it was nice to know that she wasn't just someone far in the background.

And the outfits were fantastic of course, even if Nigel didn't like Y/N too much, he did a perfect job. He was even considerate enough to search for comfortable shoes and Y/N appreciated that. Keanu seemed like he enjoyed her outfits as well, since Y/N would catch him occasionally checking her out. She was certain that Keanu was more interested in her fashion rather than Y/N herself, but she savored his attention.

Keanu was definitely leading socially but it was Y/N, who kept everything in order, and Keanu knew he could trust her. “Can you check if our car is close? I don’t want to be late for Saint Laurent,” he asked, ready to leave Dior.

Praising technology, Y/N opened a GPS app connected to their car, hoping it was not too far away. “It’s just around the corner, our driver is probably waiting for us already,” she turned her phone around showing Keanu the screen. In that second, Y/N felt her phone vibrating, unknown number popping up on the screen.

Y/N knew she was still technically working, and maybe it was not the right time to answer calls from her personal phone. She was about to stick her mobile back into her purse, when Keanu interrupted. “You’re not going to take this?” He asked.

“May I?” She was a little surprised, thinking how this would never happen back in the office. Keanu would often remind her that working hours were not for personal matters, but she guessed the rules didn’t apply in Paris.

“Sure, I’ll meet you outside,” Keanu let her go with a little wink, and she found her way outside to return the call. It was really hard to find a quiet corner. Luckily, Y/N wasn’t famous and people were completely ignoring her when Keanu wasn’t by her side.

“Good morning, Y/N, I’m calling from The Bronx Daily, I’m happy to inform…” it was all Y/N heard before her brain went clouded. Words were mixing up inside her head, and her brain could only put together little snippets coming from the other end of the line.

“… we would like you to start as soon as possible…” Y/N immediately remembered having that interview, but they hadn’t responded in so long that Y/N thought it was over. She didn’t even know what to say. Of course, she was happy, but everything seemed so quick and unexpected that she was having hard time gathering her thoughts.

“Thank you so much, could you email me all the information?” She had only managed to say, before she saw Keanu waving at the driver. Once the call was over, she ran closer joining him for the ride.

“All good?” He handed Y/N a snickers, something to keep her through another show.

“What? Oh, yes yes, I’m good.”

“You’re sure? You seem a little off.” He was watching Y/N playing with her chocolate bar, nervously twirling the wrapper in her hands.

“I’m fine, it was just my friend, she got engaged” Y/N lied, she wanted to think more before announcing her decision.

Truthfully, there wasn’t much to think about, she had just been offered a job as a journalist, which meant she would finally be writing. It was something she had been dreaming of for so long, and it didn’t matter that it wouldn’t be as glamorous as Vogue, she had to start somewhere.

It was a pity they called her in the midst of the Fashion Week, when Y/N was enjoying her job like never before. She had to constantly remind herself that her fairytale was going to end next week, and she would be back to her horrid office job fulfilling absurd Reeves’ wishes.

Speaking about Reeves, it made everything much harder, since Y/N felt herself slowly falling for him. Y/N was sure as ever, she wasn’t going to waste a great opportunity for another man, especially the one completely out of her league, who also didn’t even seem to be interested in her any longer.

Y/N felt that if Keanu truly wanted to kiss her, he would have done it back at his place before leaving to Paris. But he didn’t, and maybe Y/N was overestimating how much he actually liked her. Still, it broke her heart knowing she might not be seeing him again.

Their car was slowing down next to a venue, and Y/N kept on staring through the window with a slight concern. She still couldn’t get used to those huge crowds surrounding the entrance, people shouting and press cameras flashing in front of her eyes. “Do you enjoy this chaos?” She inquired, keeping her eyes set on the pavement.

“No, of course not,” Keanu chuckled. “But I love my job and I love fashion, it’s something I have never doubted. So I guess, when you’re determined about the things you love, it’s easier to turn a blind eye sometimes, and I’m pretty sure you’re aware there are much worse things in the industry than that.”

“Yeah…” Y/N sighed and gave him a shy smile.

“This chaos will be over soon, and no matter how much you hate it now, I guarantee, you’re going to miss it someday.”

---

It was Y/N’s final night in Paris, she was hanging out in her hotel room, getting ready for the gala event as Reeves’ plus one. He had sent a professional glam team to her room for her hair and make up, and Nigel had stopped by earlier leaving a beautiful evening gown for Y/N to wear.

It was a dark burgundy chiffon dress having a corset embedded with bright tiny jewels. Y/N could only wonder how much it was worth, but in the same time, she had other things to worry about too. That tight corset being one of them.

It had too many little clasps in the back, and Y/N was sweating, desperately trying to work behind her. Her arms were burning and her neck was doing almost a 180 degree turn to the mirror, trying to keep track of every little metal piece sliding between her fingers. It was impossible, and she had been aware from the very beginning that in no way she was going to do it herself.

Y/N knew she should have asked her make up team to help her, if only she had thought about it earlier… But it was too late now. Time was not on her side, and Y/N had to think fast. It was either Nigel or Keanu to help her, and the choice was obvious here.

Y/N dialed Nigel as quickly as she could praying for him to answer. It took a few calls for her to realize that Nigel was not available to help. Her only hope was Keanu now, and Y/N didn’t think much before dialing his number. Gladly, he was quick to pick up.

“Can you come help me?” She asked, breathing her frustration to the phone.

“What did you do?” He was always quick to think that Y/N had messed something up.

“What? Nothing, it’s about the dress” She had neither time nor energy to argue, so she just waited for Keanu to confirm that he could come.

In a minute, Y/N heard a knock on her door and rushed to let Keanu in. He was already wearing his white dress shirt with a black tie, but the suit jacket was probably still in his room. For a second, Y/N lost herself admiring his built, his shirt nicely tucked in, accentuating his hefty core. Her hands even shook a little willing to wrap around his sturdy waist.

“If you don’t like it, I’m sorry, but trust me, Nigel knows better,” Keanu spoke closing the door behind him and coming closer into the room.

“It’s not that, I love it. I just can’t deal with the corset, and Nigel won’t answer.”

“Fine, show me.” He crossed his arms waiting for Y/N to bring the dress.

She slowly handed him the gown, and they both stood confused. “Do you want to wear this on top of your robe?” Keanu asked with a cheeky smile, making Y/N blush and shift her eyes to the ground. She was wearing nothing but her panties underneath, and she only had stickers covering her nipples, so naturally, Y/N didn’t feel easy taking the robe off in front of Reeves.

“What? Oh no, I-I’m,” she was stuttering, feeling the burn in her cheeks.

“It’s okay, I won’t look,” Keanu giggled turning around. He was so used to working around unabashed models, that he didn’t even realize at first this could be making Y/N feel uncomfortable.

She looked beautiful as ever, making it hard for Keanu to focus on her corset. In fact, he was stalling, slowly working his way up her spine, wishing this moment lasted forever. With every clasp done, Keanu could see her breasts lifting higher, every little push up was making his breathing increasingly erratic. He tried to look away, but his eyes would wander back to Y/N’s décolleté, perfectly framed by luxurious fabric.

More than anything, Keanu wanted to undo the corset ripping it apart, he was barely holding himself together. But he had to. Y/N was his assistant, a good one in fact, and he had almost ruined it once, so he knew better to stay away this time.

Meanwhile, Y/N was sensing Keanu close, his breath against her radiating skin. She was imagining him kissing her exposed neck, trailing sultry kisses down her bare back. Y/N could feel his fingertips occasionally brushing against her soft skin, waking up little tingles in various places all over her body. She got carried away by various scenarios playing in her head, all of which involved Keanu tearing the dress away.

“You’re all done.” His words snapped Y/N back into reality, and they both shared longing looks reflecting in the mirror. Both of them felt it, neither one dared to do something. “No wait, not yet.” He stepped aside to take a white gold diamond necklace out of the velvet box and came back closer brushing Y/N’s hair over her shoulder. “You look beautiful,” he said, admiring Y/N through the mirror, his eyes following the necklace as it sank down closer to the valley of her breasts.

In that minute, sadness washed over Y/N’s eyes, as she remembered it was her final day in Paris. Her Cinderella story was coming to an end, and Y/N felt like she would never even see Keanu again after telling him she wanted to leave Vogue.

“I’ll meet you at the lobby,” he nodded stepping through the door. “We’re leaving through the front door, so don’t get too overwhelmed.”

She knew she had to tell him. Eventually.

---

The gala was overwhelming to say the least. Y/N felt like every event she had participated in during the week was to prepare her for this. Some of the people she could remember from the fashion shows she had seen, and surprisingly, some of them remembered her too.

Of course, she didn’t magically turn into a social butterfly, but her time spent in Paris definitely helped to open up her shell. Y/N was amazed how she only needed one person to believe in her in order to become a confident woman, or at least she was getting closer to it. Unfortunately, the realization only made it harder to leave Vogue.

Y/N kept calling it Vogue in her head, but truly, it was Keanu she didn’t want to part with.

“Y/N?!” She heard him whispering in a strict tone. “What is wrong with you today? You’re all in your head.” He complained, but he also seemed a little concerned for Y/N.

“I’m sorry, it’s nothing. You wanted something?” She smiled, persuading him there was nothing to worry about.

“You have to choose from the menu, I’ve asked you like three times already.” Y/N only gave him an apologetic look, taking the menu from his hands.

During the dinner Y/N tried to constantly be aware, she was afraid to look like a fool drifting away in her mind again. She kept observing the environment, noticing how most of the girls were barely touching their food, and it made her wonder whether she should follow this social protocol too.

It took Y/N two minutes of playing with her food to realize how actually hungry she was. She wasn’t even going to be a part of this world soon, so why bother, she thought. The steak was so juicy, Y/N could almost hear it calling her name, inviting her to indulge. Ant it was definitely worth it.

As they were waiting for the dessert, the chatty crowd around the table was becoming too much for Y/N, so she excused herself to get some fresh air. Also, she wanted to prepare her words for telling Keanu she was out, something quick and painless.

Keanu was expecting for Y/N to come back soon, but as he noticed she was gone for a great matter of time, he decided to go look for her.

He found Y/N in the balcony, admiring the sun setting over the Parisian rooftops. Her dress was flowing in the wind as she was leaning over the balcony railing, looking stunning from behind. Keanu even had to stop for a moment to marvel the view.

“You’re okay?” He inquired coming nearer to Y/N and resting his hands on the rail, close to where hers was.

“Yes, just needed some air,” her eyes were set on the Eifel Tower; she had never been to Paris before.

“Did something happen? Because I feel like something’s wrong.” He turned his core towards Y/N, trying to read her face. The only thing he saw was how pretty she was.

“The Bronx Daily reached out, they want me to write for them.” Y/N bit her lip trying to swallow her tears.

“Are you going to?” Keanu was soft, almost compassionate.

“Well yes, I know it’s not Vogue, but at least I’d be writing.”

“So, that’s great news, right?” He raised his palms up, almost ready to hug Y/N. Keanu saw it wasn’t easy for her, so he tried to lighten the atmosphere with his smile. He was genuinely happy for her.

“Yeah, but… You don’t seem too upset,” she smirked, finally finding the courage to look Keanu in the eye. “Was I really that bad?”

“Oh come on, I think we both knew Vogue was only temporary for you.” Y/N raised her brow, thinking what the hell Keanu meant with his words. “You’ve always wanted to write, it’s your chance.”

“Then why did you even bother to take me in?”

“I saw a beautiful girl with so much potential just not enough vigor that I… I don’t know, I guess… I just wanted to show her what she’s capable of, to give her wings, you know.” For the first time Y/N saw Keanu like that. He was timid, even blushing, it was him now unable to keep his eyes up.

“You know you turned me into a terrible person, right?” Y/N sighed. “I stabbed Emily in the back, I stole this opportunity from her, and I don’t think I deserved this at all. Is that what you’re calling giving me wings?”

“Well, Harpies have wings too,” Keanu smirked making her giggle.

“And look at the bright side.” He raised his hand up to her shoulder coming to stand behind her. Y/N could feel his touch still being a little uncertain, so she sank backwards slightly, molding herself into his grip. “You won’t have to deal with Emily anymore, who I’m sure is mad as hell.” Keanu continued making them both chuckle, his hands were squeezing Y/N’s shoulders form behind, warming up her skin. The weather was getting chilly, but Y/N was feeling warmth from within, she wanted to be held like this forever.

“Besides, since you won’t be working for me anymore…” Keanu brushed his fingers through Y/N’s hair, fixing a couple of strands messed up by the wind. He slowly pushed one of her shoulders forward turning her around, then carefully drew his hand to cup her cheek, his thumb running just below her lower lip. Y/N’s eyes were glimmering with anticipation, and before she could do or say anything, Keanu’s lips came to join hers.

He was tender at first, slowly deepening the kiss, trying to test the waters before he was sure Y/N was in for this. He even pulled back a little, opening his eyes to check hers. “Is this..?” Y/N didn’t let Keanu finish, wrapping her hand around his nape, pulling him closer again. She felt the kiss with her whole body, excitement and arousal reaching every single cell of hers. It seemed like their hands had only one goal, which was to pull each other close, making them eager for even more. It was impossible to hold back with their lips fusing, dancing around one another, exploring the taste they had been craving for so long. It felt like the kissing was never going to end, but for the sake of their swollen lips, they had to slow down at least for now.

“Do you want to go back for dessert?” Keanu asked, pressing her gently to his chest.

“I’ve already had mine,” they both chuckled, bringing their lips back closer for another little peck.

“Want me to show you around Paris then?” Keanu grinned, offering Y/N to take his hand. Nodding with enthusiasm, she left another kiss lingering on Keanu’s lips and locked their fingers together getting excited for what else this night had to offer.

-THE END-

Tag-list: @keandrews @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @greenmanalishi @lilywoood

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#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu reeves imagine #the devil wears prada #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves series #keanu reeves fic #StephsBirthdayWritingChallenge

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avelera · 4 years

Text

A few fun notes I’ve picked up on the Crusades, as would be relevant to Nicky and Joe, courtesy of leaving Great Courses lectures on in the background while doing other stuff (meaning if you’re a huge fan of the history of the Crusades you definitely know more than me):

- Nicolò di Genova could have been one of several, not necessarily mutually exclusive things before embarking on the Crusade - the second son of a wealthy/noble family (it would explain how he could afford the journey and weapons/armor), a poor brigand (one reason the Pope called the Crusades was to redirect European infighting and banditry) and/or a devout Christian who was spiritually moved by Pope Urban II’s call to arms. The devout option does not necessarily preclude either of the previous two possibilities, because the Pope promised total forgiveness of ALL sins (before and during) committed in one’s life and during the Crusades, so those who may have turned to banditry out of desperation but felt guilty for their immortal souls could have also been lured by the promise of spiritual reward, not just material reward.

- I’m going to go out on a limb and say Nicky was part of the Princes’ Crusade in 1096, the official one that Pope Urban wanted and I distinguish because there was a thing called the Peasants Crusade before of people who rose to the call but were, unfortunately, all non-fighting men, peasants, kids, fanatics, etc. and it went... badly. Very badly. The “crusaders” themselves (which means “cross bearers” btw) were pretty awful and killed a lot of innocent people on their way to the Holy land, and then they were wiped out when they got to Turkey anyway, and likely Nicky would be aware of these events (or even saw the piled bodies on his way to Jerusalem, if you want to go for a dramatic scene).

I’m guessing Nicky was with the Princes’ Crusade because he actually got to the Holy Land AND again, because he’s got armor (according to the comic flashbacks) which was pretty damn expensive. (A Watsonian rationale, the Doylist one is that Rucka was going for the image of foreign knights fighting in full plate and may not have thought out all the class and wealth implications of them having that armor). Oh, and Nicky if he traveled with the Princes’ Crusade in 1096 would have spent some time in Constantinople (November-April) while on his way there.

- The Crusaders captured Antioch before they made it to Jerusalem. I’m not sure The Old Guard clarifies which battle he and Joe first encountered each other in, it might have been Antioch, but I’m going to say it wasn’t, for several reasons. One, because of the credits that lists 1099, the year after, when Jerusalem fell, which was the last year of the First Crusade. (The other famous crusade, the Second Third Crusade of Orlando Bloom’s “Kingdom of Heaven” fame isn’t for almost 50 years after that.) And further, while it’s possible that Nicky fought Joe in Antioch before the Crusaders even made it to Jerusalem, but the push-pin in the map is also in Jerusalem and it’s where the most famous events of the First Crusade happened (and I’m not sure Rucka would be able to resist), so just from a dramatic standpoint too I think they probably fought in Jerusalem.

- To just couch it in a scene for a second, the Crusaders seeing Jerusalem for the first time was, by all accounts, breathtaking. It was a profoundly spiritual moment for these people who had taken up arms to fight for their God and traveled for years across strange lands and lost many of their compatriots to the fighting in Antioch as well as starvation/thirst/exhaustion/disease along the way, to reach this holiest of holy sites in the Christian canon.

- Unfortunately, the sight of Jerusalem might be the last moment of beauty we can expect from the European Crusaders. The accounts of the sack of Jerusalem are horrifying. The Crusaders laid siege to Jerusalem for just over a month, and once inside the gates, they massacred every single person in the city, until blood flowed through the streets.

- (Side note: if Nicky didn’t arrive with the main Crusader force coming over land through Turkey, he probably arrived instead with Genoese merchants who also brought the supplies needed to make the siege engines that broke through the walls, so it is possible Nicky was with them and came by boat, in which case he may feel a different kind of guilt for the atrocities that followed.)

- Having claimed the city, the Crusaders established the Kingdom of Jerusalem which would endure just barely over a hundred years. There would be constant fighting between Seljuks and the Crusaders throughout that century, complicated alliances between the Crusaders and the Seljuk’s rivals, the Fatimid Caliphate. Basically, you’d need to be a scholar or read something by a scholar who understands this much better than me to unwind it all.

When did Joe and Nicky meet in all of this? Is the Siege of Jerusalem the setting of their first mutual murder of one another? Or did they meet at a later battle? A lot of that is up to the writer, because based on the line about how they’d been taught to hate one another, one could take away that they’d been on either side of the conflict for a while, at least long enough to build up some animosity towards the other side, before they encountered each other. Or, one could take the line to mean that Nicky and Joe met early in the conflict, and had only the hatred they’d been taught driving them to fight.

Certainly the clash of the Franks, as the Seljuks called them (a word that is still found as a root for “foreigner” in Arabic to this day) or the Saracens, as the Christians called them, was a moment that was not, shall we say, hampered by sympathy on either side. The men of the other army must have been foreign and terrifying to both sides, both saw the other as infidels to the true faith, both had more or less a free pass by their religion and circumstances to not even see the other side as human (but, let’s remember, the Europeans were the invaders and the atrocities they committed are too lengthy and horrifying to go into here).

If Nicky and Joe had stayed in the Levant throughout the events of the following centuries of Crusades (perhaps together now? perhaps still on opposite sides for some time?) they could have been caught up in a rich and complicated world of the clash of civilizations between Europe and the Middle East, Christianity and Islam, met major historical figures like Richard the Lionheart and Saladin (or, An-Nasir Salah ad-Din Yusuf ibn Ayyub if we’re being accurate) the latter of which is one of the greatest examples of chivalry the world has ever known, to an extent that was hailed even by Europeans (seriously, it’s some Hollywood-level stuff, Saladin is amazing and would be the obvious hero in any historical fiction set during the Second or Third Crusade, I could see Yusuf sticking around just to serve him and Nicky even switching sides to do so, especially compared to the leadership on the European side and bastards like Raynald of Châtillon, but again, for a fun intro to these events watch “Kingdom of Heaven” with a heavy grain of salt).

A few final notes, before this becomes its own lecture on the Crusades. With regards to homophobia, it might not have been quite as present as many modern readers would assume. And you might be surprised by who would have been more OK with it.

- On the European side, homosexuality was a sin, sure, but pretty much all non-procreative sexual practices were a sin and it wasn’t as fiercely persecuted in the early 11th century as it would come to be later. This is not to say homosexuality was celebrated, but the punishment you’d receive was basically a civil punishment for being caught, needing to do penance for a few months to a year, not execution or torture or anything like that.

- And let’s remember throughout history, men have had few limitations enforced on their sex lives as long as they also fulfilled their duties to their families and the Church and that going on Crusade meant all of your sins were wiped away, before, during, and after (which is probably what led to the uninhibited nature of the atrocities committed by the Crusaders and I mean seriously, even the Pope who ordered the Crusades was horrified when he heard what happened).

So what I’m saying is, even if someone like Nicky was worried about going to Hell for having sex with men (and really, it would not be the #1 sin to be concerned about by any means in those times) he wouldn’t have to worry specifically while on Crusade. He’s in the clear at least as far as his immortal soul goes, though social censure could be another matter (assuming everyone else even cared about social censure too). Actually, it would be funny if Nicky’s generally relaxed demeanor in the modern era around murders and stuff is because as far as he’s concerned, he’s still got that Papal order saying all his sins are cleared because he joined the Crusades, lol.

- Meanwhile, on Joe’s side, we’re still in a time period that’s called the Islamic Golden Age where social strictures are relatively relaxed compared to what they’ll be at other points in Islamic history (sweeping generalization! please take it as such!) but it’s worth noting that Abu Nuwas, one of the most famous and acclaimed Islamic poets, wrote a ton of love poetry in the 700s and a not inconsiderable portion of that love poetry was devoted to homosexual love. Meaning, yeah, Yusuf wouldn’t just be able to quote poetry at Nicolò, he could quote specifically gay poetry at Nicolò, from one of his culture’s most renowned poets.

Similar to Europe, if my research is correct, homosexuality was pretty accepted, at least it’s not a high-priority punishable crime for men of privilege during this era the way it would be in some later eras. I don’t want to expound much more on Joe’s side because it’s definitely the one I have less knowledge of and authority to speak about but I will leave you, if you’ve made it this far, with the fact that being two men in love with each other when they met was much less of a serious issue than being two infidels (to the other’s religion) would have been, from a social standpoint.

#the old guard #tog meta #history #joe x nicky #nicky x joe #LONG post #also if someone has an authoritative biography of these guys somewhere PLEASE SEND IT TO ME #I'm making some pretty big leaps here like Joe being on the Seljuk side but that's only based on the date and location nothing biographical

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