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miekasa · 3 years

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the babysitter’s club (1)

+ pairing: levi ackerman + (fem) reader, featuring bright-eyed but very easily intimidated interns and part-time babysitters eren and armin who are trying their best

+ genres and warnings: modern au, parents au, fluff, yes the dog’s name is captain and he’s tiny what about it

+ summary: eren and armin are good subordinates, who happen to be pretty good babysitter, too. usually.

+ word count: 2.7k

+ notes: this was just something fun i edited and reworked again, also to provide some more insight about dad levi and my oc kids; this focuses only on holden, who is the oldest of the bunch, but you’ll more about the rest as they go

It’s not that Levi doesn’t trust Holden’s babysitters, he just would rather watch over her himself. Moreover, he would rather have the time to spend with his small daughter instead of having to leave her in the care of someone else who isn’t you, but sometimes life gets busy, and babysitters come in real handy.

He still doesn’t understand why Erwin would schedule the both of you to attend such important work-related meetings on the same weekend; much less, to send you half-way around the world for yours, and then book Levi for damn near twelve hours on a Saturday. He would murder Erwin if he weren’t his direct boss, and a long-time friend. But shit happens, and while it’s a major inconvenience and pain in his ass to be working on a weekend, it’s good to know he could rely on the brats at the office to step up on such short notice.

“I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that if anything happens, I won’t hesitate to dismember you,” Levi says calmly, closing his briefcase after triple-checking its contents.

“Of course,” Armin stiffens visibly, awkward laughter seeping through his words, “Eren and I would never let anything happen to Holden.”

To his left, Holden has already tugged Eren to the coffee table for a game of children’s Scrabble, determined to show off her new skills. Levi smiles slightly as he remembers playing the game with her last week, and how awe-struck she was to have seen Levi create a word bigger than “unattainable”—which is currently the longest word in her four-year-old vocabulary. But he’s certain she would have no trouble beating Eren.

He gives Armin a slight nod. He knows Holden is in good hands; or good enough hands with Armin, anyway. It’s not the first time the duo has babysat, and for as air-headed and clumsy Eren could be at the office, he seemed to be pretty damn good with kids if Holden’s attachment to the brunette was anything to go by.

Levi recounts that you’ve questioned on multiple occasions why Eren was so dedicated to being your PA when he seemed to have a potential career in taking care of, and maybe even teaching children. Not that he’s not a good assistant to you, but he’s certainly not as organized or detailed-oriented as Armin. Levi shrugs away the thought. Eren’s career choices are none of his business; his only concern is that he keeps his daughter safe and sound.

“Right. My card is on the kitchen island, you can buy lunch and dinner or whatever, I don’t think there’s much in the fridge,” Levi informs Armin. He looks briefly to the clock on the wall; he really should get going. “Remember to walk Captain at some point, and no matter what Holden says, he absolutely does need a leash on him. If Erwin isn’t being a complete asshat, I’ll be home by nine. (Y/N) will probably still be on her flight, so call me if you need anything.”

Armin nods enthusiastically, promising Levi that they would take care of everything. They’d better.

“Alright, I’m heading out,” Levi announces, pulling his keys from the table near the door, “Be good, Holden. Tell Armin and Eren if you need anything.”

Holden’s head perks up at the sound of her name. Elegantly, or as elegantly as a four-year-old can be, she stands from her seated crisscross position, to run over to Levi by the door. He should remind her that she should use walking feet inside the house, but he can’t bring himself to, instead crouching down to meet her height.

“Bye, daddy,” she tells him sweetly. Levi reaches a hand out to ruffle the top of her head, much to the small girl’s chagrin. She sports a grimace almost identical to his as he reaches up to try and smooth out the aftermath of her father’s affections, “Daddy!”

Levi can’t help but chuckle, reaching two fingers out to poke at his daughter’s forehead. “Be good. I’ll be back soon.”

“Mommy too?”

Levi sighs, “No, mommy doesn’t come back until Tuesday.”

“That’s four days away,” Holden’s doesn’t hesitate to express her dissatisfaction. Levi nods, a little proud of how quickly she’d calculated that in her head, “Can Eren stay until Tuesday?”

“No, Eren cannot.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Holden crinkles her nose. Levi really has got to do something about her fascination with Eren.

Holden looks backwards to where Eren is still seated around the coffee table, he and Armin watching the father-daughter duo. After reconciling with the fact that Eren does, in fact, have his own home to go back to at the end of the day, Holden turns back around, and holds her hand up, palm facing Levi. He does the same, bringing his larger palm to hers, so that her hand is pushed against the middle of his.

Not one for hugs, kisses, or larger displays of affection, Holden simply turns her palm so that her hand grabs around Levi’s as best as possible, hooking her thumb around his pinky finger—what Levi’s heard the young girl call a hand hug.

“Bye, daddy,” she repeats, squeezing his hand, “Come back soon.”

Levi bends his fingers to wrap around her hand, “I will.”

“Keep an eye on her,” Levi reminds Armin and Eren, after standing back up and gripping his briefcase in his hand, “Don’t cause too much trouble.”

“Holden never causes trouble,” Eren says in response, but his words are spoken in coos to the young girl, who’s already back at his side.

Levi scoffs, “I was talking to you.”

“We’ll be fine, boss, don’t worry,” Eren chuckles with an awkward blush, “We love looking after Holden.”

“I’m not your boss,” Levi deadpans, double-checking his pockets for his keys, “You’d better hope everything is fine. Call me if anything happens, I’ll be back soon.”

With one final round of good-byes, and a wave from his daughter, Levi’s out the door, and stepping into his car with a grimace. It was just one stupid day out of his life. Besides, Holden would be fine with Armin and Eren; she always is. Levi is just grumpy that he can’t be the one to spend the day with her.

He sighs, reluctantly, putting his keys in the ignition. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could come back to Holden. Everything would be fine in the meantime; for now, he had to focus on how he was going to get himself to sit through Erwin’s long-ass meeting.

“Levi! Hi! Um… okay, so don’t freak out, but Armin and I are at the hospital with Holden right now—don’t freak out—because there was a small incident at lunch—don’t freak out and fire me please—but! It’s all gonna be okay, they’re already treating her and she’s doing fine now, so don’t freak—”

“Tell me not to freak out one more fucking time and I’ll castrate Armin and feed you his balls myself.”

“You sound a little freaked out,” Eren placates, wincing and holding his phone away from his ear when Levi growls in response.

“You have five seconds to tell me what you two idiots did to my daughter and explain why I shouldn’t decapitate you immediately.”

“It’s a funny story, actually—so, um, we think Holden might be allergic to nuts…?”

“What do you mean might be, Jaeger?”

Eren can feel his heart in his throat. He eyes Armin on the other side of Holden’s hospital bed. He looks no better—color almost completely drained from his face, but Eren doesn’t think he can say much else to his boss before his knees give out from underneath him.

“Uh, well, it was a lot of technical terms, and—I—um, actually I’m going to let Armin explain!” Eren hurries, all but chucking his phone at the unsuspecting blonde.

Armin’s blue eyes look almost grey with anxiety, but before he can protest, Eren is flailing his hands and pointing fingers and reminding him that Levi will kill them both if he doesn’t start talking.

Reluctant, and terrified, Armin finally lifts the phone to his ear, stuttering out a pathetic hello, but Levi cuts him off before he can say anything else.

“Save it. Send me your location, and pray I don’t kill you when I get there.” Armin chokes out a “yes, sir,” before slowly bringing the phone down to his side.

The good news is that Holden’s allergic reaction wasn’t too severe: her throat had been irritated, and hives had emerged as a result, but it hadn’t been closing up. And luckily, Eren had the endurance to run nearly a mile and half with a four year old tucked under his arm; because with the traffic Armin observed whilst he and Captain huffed and lagged behind, it would have taken thrice as long to get Holden to the ER had they waited and called for an ambulance.

Even better was that Holden was an unnervingly calm kid, even whilst having an allergic reaction. She looked almost back to normal now, save for a few red looking blotches on her neck and upper arm; and seemed more than content to be watching a video on Eren’s phone, despite the situation. She was a little bummed out to find out that she could never eat the new ice cream she liked so much ever again, but she seemed to quickly get over it once Eren reminded her that there were lots of other flavors out there for her to try. Flavors that wouldn’t make her choke to death.

Still, Eren and Armin could probably kiss their jobs goodbye, seeing as they had nearly just poisoned their bosses’ daughter. Holden seemed to like them enough, but, unfortunately, Holden wasn’t the Ackerman who signed their checks.

At the very least, Eren doesn’t think you’ll be too upset with him. He doesn’t think you’ll be ecstatic to hear that while you were away on your already inconvenient work-trip on the other side of the globe, that he also managed to land your daughter in a hospital bed… but you were the more forgiving one. Then again, maybe not so forgiving when it comes to the health and wellbeing of your daughter.

Eren falls back against the wall in dread. You weren’t even in the same country as him and he was worried about what you might say or do to him. Levi was probably less than twenty minutes away and fully capable of beheading him.

“You… uh, you think the Interior Branch is still looking for interns?” Eren breaks the silence, looking towards Armin, who’s taken the seat next to Holden’s bed, petting Captain robotically as the dog sits in his lap.

“I don’t think it matters,” Armin responds, “They won’t hire corpses.”

Fifteen minutes, and several run red lights later, Levi is bursting through the doors to the pediatric wing of the emergency room. He doesn’t care about the old woman at the reception yelling at him for causing a ruckus, or the other parents, doctors, or visitors eyeing him for marching around like he owned the place. Holden was in there somewhere, and he was going to get to her.

“Holden—oh, god, Holden,” Levi coos, frantic, as he marches into Holden’s room, scurrying to the side of her hospital bed. A cold hand reaches up to stroke her face. Angry, red bumps litter the sides of neck, her cheeks are puffier than usual, and the perimeter of her mouth seems a bit irritated, but Levi is relieved. She’s okay, his baby girl is okay.

“’M fine, daddy,” Holden assures him. She’s almost overly-perceptive for her age, able to pick up on her father’s out of character antics, and does her best to console him. “Eren ran with me all the way here when I started coughing and itchin.’”

Levi nods, the dark grey splotches in Holden’s eyes bringing him comfort, ensuring him that she was okay. “They gave me a shot, and I don’t like needles, but I didn’t even cry at all. Ask, Armin and Eren, they saw! Captain, too.”

“Brave girl,” Levi smiles, reaching his hand up to push her hair out of her face then leans over to press a kiss to her forehead.

Levi had almost forgotten that Eren and Armin were in the room until he hears a blundering cough from behind him. The younger boys look petrified, Eren practically shaking in his shoes, while Armin doesn’t even have the confidence to look him in the eye.

“We’re really sorry, Levi,” Eren apologizes, voice scratchy and wobbly, like he’d been the one to just get a shot, “We didn’t know—and when she started coughing and saying she couldn’t breathe, I swear, I ran here as fast as I could—”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s… fine?”

Levi sighs. Maybe he’d been a little harsh with them on the phone, letting his emotions get the best of him. He’d already been pissed off enough to not have the time to spend with Holden this weekend; hearing that she’d been hurt was just the final push over the edge for him, but it wasn’t necessarily Armin or Eren’s fault.

“I didn’t know either,” Levi exhales, reaching at hand out to pet the top of Holden’s head again, the young girl now distracted once again by the phone in her hand, “She’s never had a reaction to anything before, and neither (Y/N) or I have any strong allergies.”

Armin shuffles where he’s standing. “The doctor said she might be allergic to tree nuts. We, uh, we gave her pistachio ice cream after lunch.”

If there’s anything concerning Levi, it’s that they gave Holden ice cream before dinner, but he supposes he can let it go for now.

“Eren told me to try it, and it tasted good, daddy,” Holden interjects, “Before I started coughing, it was good.”

“Ah, well, you can’t—you shouldn’t eat things that make you feel sick!” Eren stutters loudly.

“But it was good,” Holden pouts, “And you said to try new things, Eri. I won’t know if it makes me sick if I don’t try them.”

Levi holds back his laughter. He knows that Holden definitely wouldn’t want to try the same same flavor again knowing now that she was allergic to it; she was just pulling at Eren’s leg. Levi would have to keep an eye out for the stuff anyway, especially if her oh-so-precious Eren has expressed any former love for it.

“Um, Levi, sir,” Armin calls, pulling Levi’s attention towards the blonde, “We didn’t know if (Y/N) would have landed already, but do you think you should call her, to, um, let her know?”

Levi’s face pales three shades when he realizes that none of them had already informed you that your daughter was currently hospitalized with a new found allergy.

“You can call her,” Levi says, a shudder in his spine at the thought of relaying this information to you, “That’s your death sentence, not mine.”

#aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman smut #eren x reader #aot fluff

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iliveiloveiwrite · 3 years

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The Mirror of Erised // Draco Malfoy

Summary: Curious professors, treasure hunts, romantic feelings.

A/N: This idea gripped me and I couldn't let it go. I haven't written for Draco in so long, I forgot how much I love this character.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Female!Reader

Warnings: fluff, pining, mutual pining, kissing, treasure hunts, humour, swearing, mentions of food and drink

Word count: 4.4k

The air of the greenhouses was always humid; thick with moisture, creating the perfect environment for the magical plants of Hogwarts to thrive and grow. Tended by all students, the greenhouses saw an abundance of visitors every day.

The collection of greenhouses had been your solace as a teenager studying at the enchanting school. Too anxious from the state of wizarding society, the greenhouses became a place of calm for you. Professor Sprout had taken you under your wing after your fourth visit to the unconventional classrooms. From there, your knowledge of magical plants and their properties grew until you were the one they called when the school was destroyed, and students were injured.

It wasn’t long after the Battle of Hogwarts that McGonagall offered you a teaching position, wanting a trustworthy, welcoming soul to take over from Professor Sprout. Sprout hadn’t worried; she knew she had left her beloved greenhouses in safe hands.

Days in the greenhouses always flew by. You constantly found yourself entranced by your work; the potting and repotting of Mandrakes, the drying of nettles, the harvesting of Asphodel root – it was enough to keep you thoroughly occupied as well as a hive of information for the students that line the greenhouse work stations.

However, today you found yourself occupied not by the Aconite plant that also went by Monkshood and Wolfsbane. Instead, you were caught up in a rumour delivered to you this morning by Nearly Headless Nick. The resident ghost of Gryffindor had flitted over to you, already grinning with excitement at the information he had to share. By the time such information had been imparted onto you, your excitement rivalled his.

There was only one person, however, that you wanted to share this rumour with.

Draco Malfoy followed you into teaching a year after you began your position at Hogwarts. He hadn’t wanted the job at the ministry; his name scorned by most witches and wizards. McGonagall had seen something in him and had offered him the position of Potions Master, knowing how comfortable the Malfoy heir would been in the subject.

The friendship with the Slytherin Prince happened over many shared meals; breakfasts, lunches, dinners in the Great Hall in which you always found yourself saving a seat for the blonde in case no-one else at the table did. Draco’s allegiance in the Second Wizarding War was a well-known fact amongst staff and students.

After a while, the two seats became reserved for the both of you. An unofficial seating plan in which you would save a seat for Draco, and he would save one for you if you were running late. It was a friendship you so dearly cherished, and if you happened to have recognised the familiar stirrings of love in you as you glanced at the blonde, then that would be your secret to bare. Draco didn’t need to know how he made your heart race and sent your head into a spin; he didn’t need to know how often he featured in your dreams, waking up with your arm outstretched as if reaching for him in the deep of your sleep.

The man occupied your mind as you left the greenhouses, wandering to the Great hall where you caught sight of the shock of blonde hair amongst the rest of the staff. It’s as if he senses your presence, Draco looks up from his plate of food to meet your gaze. A slow smile spreads across his face as he waves at you, hurrying you over.

“Have you heard?” You smile, remembering your earlier conversation with Nearly Headless Nick, childish excitement written across your face as you reach out to grip Draco’s forearm.

The blonde indulges you with a wide smile of his own. “Have I heard what?”

Your grip on Draco’s arm grows tighter as your excitement peaks. “It’s back at Hogwarts – the Mirror of Erised.”

Shock pulses through his body as Draco tries and fails to keep the alarm from showing on his face. “What? Where did you find that out?”

“Nearly Headless Nick who heard it from Professor Binns who overheard Professors Flitwick and Trelawney discussing the subject matter outside of McGonagall’s office.”

Draco’s grey eyes narrow as he takes in the admittedly weak and confusing chain of gossip. “Are you certain that it is back here?” He asks; curiosity burning through him, but not wanting to risk falsities.

“There’s only one way to find out,” You tease, biting your lip as you peer up at the Potions professor through your lashes. You knew that Draco would be apprehensive about such a magical object, but even he couldn’t resist catching a glimpse into his own soul – his own heart.

Draco groans; repressing the urge to let his head fall into his arms. “Another treasure hunt?”

He didn’t remember the last one too fondly. You had heard whispers of the Necklace of the Lady of the Lake being housed in an offshoot of one of the many tunnels that lay undisturbed underneath Hogwarts. They had remained undisturbed for over a thousand years until you had chosen to find the necklace. You had no interest in wearing it; you couldn’t be bothered about being unfathomably loved, but you had simply wanted to see whether there was any stock in the legend preached by Professor Binns in History of Magic.

Unfortunately, whilst the tunnels did exist, the necklace did not, and it was left to Draco to pick up the pieces of your disappointment as well as heal numerous scratches and welts covering your limbs after an ill-timed fall.

After that, Draco had made you swear that your treasure hunts would remain above ground and somewhat safe.

“Please, Dray,” You plead, shaking the arm which you still hold in your grip. “Help me find the Mirror of Erised.”

“We were warned away from it as students,” Draco argues, desperate for you to see sense so he can protect you from further injury, “Why should we find it now?”

“Because we are no longer students,” You protest, gesturing to your seats at the teacher’s table in the Great Hall where you both currently sit.

“What do I get out of this?” He asks, already feeling his resolve crumbling as he takes in the excitement shining brightly in your eyes.

“You get to spend time with me, of course,” You laugh, anticipation curling in your gut.

“Well, if you’d led with that,” Draco begins, his voice trailing off as he watches your eyes grow wide with the realisation of what he is saying.

“You’ll help?”

“I’ll help,” He nods, unable to keep the smile of out of his voice and off of his face.

“Thank you!” You cry, releasing your hold of Draco’s arm to throw your own around his neck, pulling him in for a tight hug. “I knew I could count on you.”

Draco laughs; his arms coming to wrap around you. “I’ll come to your rooms after dinner, deal?”

“Deal,” You answer, pulling your head out of his neck long enough to reply to him. You stay wrapped up in each other for another moment; enjoying the closeness of the other until you begin to feel the gaze of colleagues and students alike – all curious to whether the two of you had gotten your act together yet.

-----

Draco knocks on your door an hour after the end of the dinner. The many students at the school had been sent off to bed though many still roamed the halls despite the nearing toll of curfew. Draco had passed many teenagers on his way to your rooms; each either greeting him verbally or offering him a nod as he passed. He wasn’t going to remind them that they needed to head back to their dorms; he was out after hours too, and despite being an adult, he still sometimes felt like the student he was so many years ago.

At this point in this teaching career, Draco had spent countless evenings in your rooms. He could explain the layout like the back of his hand from the personalised tapestry backing the wall behind your bed to the bookshelf in your living room whose shelves are bowing from the weight of the books laid upon it.

He could picture it all in his mind’s eye as he knocks twice more upon the faded, wooden door.

“I wondered when you’d be dropping by,” You greet as you step to one side to let the potions professor enter.

Draco rolls his eyes at the mock impatience in your voice. He toes off his shoes before following you through to the small living area where he spies a mug of his favourite tea waiting for him on the coffee table. He reaches for it as he settles down on the worn couch.

“What’s the plan?”

“Find the mirror, look into it, try to achieve our desires.”

“Very thorough.”

“Piss off, Dray,” You laugh, hitting him with a couch cushion.

“In all serious, do you know where the mirror could be kept?”

“I have three ideas.”

“Enlighten me.”

Holding up your hand, you show Draco three fingers as you count off the locations in your mind. “The Room of Requirement, the Chamber of Secrets, and the place where Harry found the Philosopher’s Stone in our first year, just off the Third Floor corridor.”

“All difficult places to get into,” Draco notes wryly.

“Your point being?”

“You never make this easy for me.”

“I’ll repeat my words from earlier: piss off, Draco.”

“Why do you want to find it so badly?” Draco asks; finally voicing the words that have been sat on the tip of his tongue since dinner.

You shrug, messing with a loose thread on a dark red cushion. “Why not? I’d like to see what I truly desire.”

Understanding that he isn’t going to get a longer answer, Draco changes tact. “Which room do we hit first? What’s the plan?”

He’s rewarded with a smile that lights up your whole face and sets his heart pounding in his chest.

Draco does his best to listen to you; he does his best to pay attention to every word leaving your lips and every gesture of your hands, but he finds it hard when all he can see if the excitement in your eyes and the pure happiness written on you face. If he already didn’t think you beautiful, he would think so now.

As Draco watches you, he finds himself thinking back to the time he first realised his feelings for you. It had been at a quidditch match – Ravenclaw vs Hufflepuff. Draco had attended only because you had asked him to; Hufflepuff had been your house when you were student, you were an avid supporter of the team. Parents had been attending this match as well; many of them old enough to remember the first wizarding war, his parents and his side in the second wizarding war. It had awkward until one parent made one too many comments. You had defended him, embarrassing the parent until they had no choice but to leave. When Draco had asked you why you had done such a thing; you had simply reached for his hand, squeezed it and told him that that is what friends do.

Draco had fallen in love with you then and there.

“You weren’t listening to a damn thing I was saying, were you?” You ask, a wry smile curving your lips as you settle back against the many cushions on your couch, pulling Draco from whatever daydream he found himself in.

Draco bites down on his bottom lip to keep the smile from spreading across his face. He shakes his head, “I’m sorry, I got distracted.”

“Thinking about what?”

He blanches; feels all colour leave his face as he’s put on the spot. Draco isn’t ready to confess what he feels for you; he hasn’t quite figured out whether it would ruin the friendship he so dearly cherishes or whether it would create something more between you. Either way, he isn’t ready. Instead, he offers, “I was thinking about the treasure hunt we went on for King Arthur’s sword.”

You groan dramatically, pulling a cushion over your face. “I didn’t know King Arthur’s sword was going to be that sharp!”

Draco snorts, “It’s a sword! What did you think it would be?”

“How many times do I have to apologise?”

“As many times as it takes for the scar to fade,” Draco states, lifting his pant leg to show you the puckered skin of a three inch scar running up the length of his shin. You wince at the sight of it.

“Still,” You whisper, sheepish from Draco’s reminder of the danger these hunts pose, “Will you help me?”

Draco sighs, settling once more against the many cushions on your couch. He takes a sip of his tea, pretending to mull over his decision. He knew he would help; he would follow you to the ends of the earth, but he wouldn’t be a very good friend if he didn’t make you stew over it. Ultimately, Draco smiles, turning to you, he asks, “Where do we begin?”

------

The Third Floor corridor is searched later that same week; the two of you coming up empty handed as you stride through the various tasks completed by Harry Potter in his first year of schooling at Hogwarts. You cannot stop the disappointment from flooding your veins when you come up empty handed; no sign of the Mirror of Erised when you reach the end of the path.

“We’ll find it,” Draco promises, an arm wrapping around your waist in comfort, “We’ll try the Chamber of Secrets next, see what that brings up.”

The Chamber of Secrets also has you both coming up empty handed. Draco had paused momentarily as you opened both doors to the chamber; shocked at your use of parsel tongue.

However, both of you felt the keener sting of bitter disappointment when all that is left of the Chamber of Secrets is a Basilisk skeleton. Fascinating though it may be, the chamber doesn’t hold what you seek so you leave the place, hoping never to return.

------

The Room of Requirement can be located on the seventh floor corridor; its entrance appears across from a tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy, but it only ever makes itself known to those who need it. On your list of locations for the Mirror of Erised, the Room of Requirement was your last option.

“What if it isn’t here?” You worry, standing next to Draco at the supposed entrance of the room.

“The mirror or the room of requirement?”

“Both,” You cry, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Hey,” Draco hushes, touching a finger to your chin briefly. “It will be. I’ve entered the room of requirement plenty of times.”

“Did you ever see the mirror?”

Draco shakes his head. “I didn’t, but I wasn’t searching for it then. I am now. Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” You reply, steeling yourself with a deep breath.

Draco takes your hand in his; tangling your fingers together for extra security as you begin the walk past the rumoured entrance. Three times you both walk past, thinking only of the Mirror of Erised and not of the way Draco’s hand feels in yours.

The grinding of stone is what makes the both of you pause. Draco squeezes your hand in hope as you turn to see the appearance of an ornate, dark wooden door. A glance at the blonde has further hope blooming in your chest when you spy a glimmer of familiarity in the eyes of the Slytherin Prince.

Taking the lead, Draco guides you through the door.

The room can only be described as cavernous; stone columns hold up the large room, all circling the Mirror of Erised which sits in the centre of the room, only accessed by walking down stone steps.

Excitement settles deep within your gut as you reach out for Draco’s hand only to find that he’s reached for you first. Turning to the blonde, you find triumph and happiness written across his face. “We’ve found it,” He whispers, not wanting to speak louder in case he disturbs the peace of the mirror.

“We have,” You reply just as quietly.

In sync, you both look out towards the mirror. It stands impressively in the centre of the room; its stature demanding any and all attention. It’s hard to look away with the knowledge that it could show you what you truly desire.

“Who looks first?” You ask, keeping a tight grip on Draco’s hand.

“I’m not sure,” Draco states, wanting just as much to look into the mirror now that he’s standing in front of it. He can feel its pull; he’s desperate to answer its call.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” You suggest, offering the childish game as solution to your problems.

“Alright,” Draco replies, letting go of your hand to offer it up as a fist. “Ready when you are.”

“Rock, paper, scissors,” You both chime, voices echoing off the stone walls. Draco laughs as loud as he dares when you lose for a second time in a row; he tries to offer you another go but it is clear you’ve lost this round.

“Just go stare into the glass, you arse,” You huff, shoving at his shoulder. Draco blows you a kiss as he steps down into the pit where the mirror awaits.

“Well,” You hiss, keeping your voice low in case Filch happens to walk by, “What do you see?”

Draco stands before the grand Mirror of Erised. He had heard of its prowess; Harry had preached so often about it that its legend only grew in Draco’s mind. He had never thought for one second that he would be standing in front of it, watching the ancient glass swirl and whirl as his deepest desires are reflected for him.

“Draco?” You call, voice louder, breaking the blonde from his pre-occupation with the mirror. He turns to you, eyes beginning to focus on the room around you. “Hmm?” He asks, “What did you say?”

“What did you see?” You ask, hands settling on your hips as you fix the man in front of you with an unimpressed but desperately curious stare.

Draco glances back to the mirror; his right hand twitches by his side, needing to know that if he reached out towards the immemorial glass, he could step right through and live his true desires.

He must stare at the mirror too long for he feels your hand slip into his; he feels your fingers tangle with his and tug once, pulling him from his yearnings with an ever-growing sense of urgency. “Draco,” Your voice calls though it sounds muffled as the grey swirls of fog in the mirror begin to take shape once more. “Draco,” You call again, “Come back to me.”

The words are muffled, but the pleading note to your voice cuts through the fog surrounding him. Draco comes back to the present with a start; his whole body jolting as he registers the feel of your hand in his, the weight of your fingers tangled with his.

“Where did you go just now?” You ask, concern tightening your voice, making it hard to speak.

Draco blinks once, twice, three times before whispering, “The mirror is very powerful. You can see why witches and wizards have wasted away in front of it, their desires played out for them as if on a stage.”

“Are you okay?” You ask, bringing a hand to Draco’s cheek, registering his drop in temperature. “You’re freezing cold.”

“I feel fine,” The man murmurs, sounding very far away as his grey eyes glaze over once again.

“This was a mistake,” You spit, hating yourself for dragging him along every step of the way.

“No,” Draco states firmly, “Not a mistake at all.”

“Draco, you’re freezing cold and you’re barely present enough to have a full conversation with me. You’re not okay.” You shake your head in frustration, “We’re going back to my rooms. With any luck, we won’t come across the mirror again.”

Draco goes to argue; he goes to scream and shout, but he takes a look at the stricken expression on your face and chooses to close his mouth. It’s a look he hasn’t seen in years; a look he hasn’t seen since you took in the sight of the destroyed courtyard after the Battle of Hogwarts, registering the dead bodies lined up at the side, knowing there was nothing you could do to help them. It was a look Draco had hoped he would never see again, but as the look ages your features, any argument Draco wants to pose dies on the tip of his tongue, the bitterness seeping its way to back of his throat. Instead, he holds on tightly to your hand and lets himself be led back to your rooms where warm blankets and hot tea awaits.

--------

Having barely slept after your first encounter with the mirror, you closely resemble a ghost as you take a seat at the teacher’s table for breakfast the following morning. Draco’s seat next to you is empty as you pour yourself a hot pot of tea, needing the warmth to replace what you lost in that awful room last night.

As you reach for a piece of toast and the pot of raspberry jam, you wonder whether Draco felt well enough to come down for breakfast. It had taken numerous mugs of tea to bring his temperature back up to what it was, and he remained infuriatingly tight lipped over what he had seen in the mirror despite your deluge of questions.

You only look up from your food when you catch sight of Draco out of the corner of your eye. He settles in the chair next to you, looking as if he had barely slept a wink either. He had left your rooms looking close to a corpse, the tiniest hint of colour in his cheeks. Your concern for him had interrupted your own sleep; tossing and turning all night to try and stop yourself from kicking down his door.

“How are you?” You whisper, not wanting anyone to overhear this conversation.

“Better,” He answers after a brief sip of his hot drink. “Thank you for last night.”

“Always, Draco.”

“I want to go back,” Draco announces over his breakfast, “I need to go back.”

“Why?” You ask, aghast at his decision.

“I need to be certain of what I saw.”

“And you can’t be certain without having to go back to the mirror?”

“Look,” Draco sighs, resting his teacup back onto its saucer, “I’m going back to the Mirror of Erised. Now, you can come with me and find out what I saw the first time which I know has been killing you to find out about. Or you can stay here and worry about me and not find out what I saw. What will it be?”

You purse your lips, keeping any and all barbed retorts behind your locked lips. Draco had you in a bind and he full well knew it. Eventually, after much deliberation, you roll your eyes at the blonde. “Fine,” You huff, “I’ll come with you. When are you going?”

“Tonight. I’ll come to you after curfew.”

------

The excitement upon finding the cavernous room the first time had quickly faded upon your entering the second time. You remain two steps behind Draco, watching him intently from the back as he takes a deep breath, stepping further into the room.

The Mirror of Erised remains unmoved in the centre of the room; the stone steps leading to the ancient, powerful object have a slight sheen of frost over them. Draco pays the frost no mind as he steps down to the mirror; the heels of his oxford reverberating loudly off the stone walls of the room. You wince slightly; safe in the knowledge that Filch wouldn’t be passing this room tonight, but still not wanting to take any chances.

Had the Mirror always been this foreboding? You ask yourself as you watch the man you’ve slowly fallen in love with get closer and closer to the archaic magic trapped inside the glass.

Draco pauses long enough to flash you a smile that you suppose is meant to relieve you of some of the stress and worry you feel, but it does nothing to calm your nerves as Draco steels himself to stare into the mirror again.

You remain close by as Draco watches the fog; you watch out for any signs of Draco losing himself like he did last time. As he had said previously, the mirror had turned scores of witches and wizards into bumbling fool, obsessed with watching their desires play out in front of them but refusing to act upon them. You couldn’t help but harbour some hatred for the mirror as you watched Draco fall under the mirror’s spell once more.

It takes only a moment for it all to become too much. Taking a tentative step forward, you call out his name only to receive no reply. Worrying your bottom lip, you call his name louder.

Draco’s right hand twitches as he pulls himself from the mirror. “You called,” He smiles, a poor attempt at humour.

You glare at the blonde; your heart pounding as Draco walks back to where you wait. “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” He answers, “Nothing like last time.”

“What did you see?”

“Us,” Draco answers; the single word tumbling from his lips as a smile begins to grace his face.

“Us?” You repeat, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“I love you,” Draco states honestly, plainly as if the very fact had been common knowledge for a long time. “I love you,” He repeats, arms slipping around your waist to hold you near.

“You love me?” You squeak, unable to comprehend such words after an evening as eventful as this one.

He nods; his nose brushing yours as his lips barely graze over your mouth. “I love you,” He repeats almost breathlessly as the need to kiss you tries to overtake his body.

“I love you too,” You murmur quietly, letting yourself fall further for the man holding you so tenderly.

Draco’s only answer to that is to kiss you.

*****

Harry Potter Taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @awritingtree @haphazardhufflepuff @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @breadqueen95 @oopskashish @slytherinsunrise @remmyswritings @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @ria-rests-here @superbturtlemakerathlete @inglourious-imagines @ithilwen-lionheart @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @ilovejjmaybank @theweasleysredhair @theonly1outof-a-billion @phuvioqhile @moatsnow @storyisnotover @himooonlight @potters-heart @amourtentiaa @joyfullymulti @pandaxnienke @mesmerisedangel @angelxnaa @iamninaanna

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obxmxybxnk @obx-beach @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey @justmesadgirl @detroitobsessed @aspiringsloth20 @just-a-belgian-girl @lahoete @minty-malfoy @fallinallinmendes @ravenclawbitch426 @ochrythum @beiahadid @gryffindors-weasley @dracosathenaeum @belladaises

Specific fic taglist: @regulusarcturusblack2008 @randomlimelightxxx @ranhanabi777 @yegreatdragontamingpiratecaptain

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fluff

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ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her · 3 years

Text

Common Myths

An excerpt from Memoirs of a Flesh Eater, never published.

Next Excerpt

Everyone knows about ghouls, right? Everyone grows up hearing scary stories about us, from parents telling you to brush your teeth or the ghouls will get you, to your friends on the playground lying about how they saw one with their own two eyes and it was so scary no really even scarier than that, to - eventually, as you get older - news stories about mass murders and human slaughterhouses and graverobbers digging up your grandma and biting open her bones to get what’s left of her marrow.

The stories are terrifying and vivid and mostly sensationalist garbage. It’s kind of a shame, honestly - a lot of them are really well-written. With the best ones, it’s hard to tell sometimes if they were written by a human with an overactive imagination, or by one of us.

Weird, right? You wouldn’t think we’d want to spread stories that make us look even worse to the rest of humanity than they already think we are, but as far as I can tell, we’ve been making up horror stories about ourselves forever. Our records are spotty at best - oral histories don’t always get passed on before the person carrying them dies, and there are none of us who can trace our family line more than a few generations before it gets too muddled by death to trace any farther. And as for physical records, those are even more vulnerable. Those can’t just be lost - they can be stolen. Used against us. As far as I know, there has never been a written record of ghoul lore circulated. Not until this one.

{Editing Note: Too dramatic? Maybe. But I like it. I’ll think about it}

That being said, though, I think we used to tell these stories to enhance our reputation. To keep humans too scared of us to mount a serious resistance when we came hunting. If they believed we couldn’t be beaten, they wouldn’t try as hard. I think we lived more openly back then, back before automatic firearms and high explosives and kevlar body armor and chemical weapons leveled the playing field. Back when those of us who chose to could hunt humans with near impunity.

{Editing Note: I don’t like ending the paragraph there. We weren’t all killers then any more than we are now. But we did kill. We did hunt them, and I think we hunted them more. I need to make them understand us, but how can they understand us if telling them the truth just makes them hate us more? It needs another pass}

Even then, there were a lot more humans than there were of us. That’s basic ecology - there have to be more prey than predators {Editing Note: I need to find a better way to say that. There are gentle ways to be truthful, and there are hard ways. Do better}. Working together, humans could threaten our existence even then. The stories helped, I think. If they were too scared to work together against us, then we had a better chance of surviving another day, another month, another year.

Times are different now. Fear is no longer a tool that helps us. Human fear threatens our existence. But we still make up these stories and spread them. I spread my share on the elementary school playground. Whenever any of the other kids told a scary ghoul story, I could always come up with a better one. Scarlet’s were even better. He’s always been able to make words dance.

He was my best friend growing up. We were the only ghouls in our grade, maybe even in the whole school. I couldn’t tell for sure - we didn’t see the other grades as much. But he was enough. He was someone I could be myself with. I didn’t have to pick all of my words carefully, or make sure that the thing I was telling him was a normal human experience. It was such a relief to truly be me, even if it was only outside of school hours and well out of earshot of anyone nearby. It didn’t hurt that we actually had some common interests, you know, like friends do. We used to play imagination games together. He’d conjure dragons into existence with his words, and he’d help me use mine to slay them.

{Editing Note: My academic advisor would rip this into shreds, but this isn’t a research paper. This can’t be dry. This needs to be full of heart, not just information. They need to understand. But I might have gone overboard a little}

Scarlet’s an aspiring author now. I’ve read a few of his short stories. Horror and romance, always hand in hand {Editing Note: That’s too identifying. Make that less specific}. I asked him why he thought we still told these stories about ourselves, why we still want them to think of us as more terrifying than we are, why we make ourselves seem larger than life.

He told me that it’s because they hate us. Because there is nothing we can do to make them stop hating us, so why not give them something more worthy of their hatred? Why not give them a comically exaggerated monster - one that bears only a passing resemblance to us - to hate instead? This way, we can laugh at them for their foolishness amongst ourselves, laugh at how little they understand us. If what they hated was closer to our truth, we wouldn’t find it as easy to laugh at. It isn’t always easy as it is, to look at the world around you and know that 98% of the people you see burn with hatred at the mere thought of you, and to meet that with laughter. How much harder would it be if what they hated was who we really were, complex and vulnerable and as human as them? How would we ever endure it if they beheld us for all that we were and still called for our annihilation?

Scarlet’s always been good at giving words to truth. I hope that I’m as good at using words to make a new truth. I want to make him wrong. So here is some truth for you. Here is the truth beneath the myths about who and what we are.

Ghouls eat people

This is true, at least in part; we eat human flesh. That isn’t always the same thing. I’ll go deeper on our dietary needs later, but for now, know that we don’t have to kill to eat, most of the time. I’ve never killed a human, and I hope I neve have to.

Ghouls like hurting people

Not as a rule. There are ghouls that like hurting people. There are humans who like hurting people too.

Ghouls don’t feel pain and can heal from anything

Ghouls have two foot long prehensile tongues

I can tell you from experience that this one isn’t true. We feel pain as acutely as any human, I think, though it does take a little more to hurt us. Our skin and bones are tougher, harder to break. Our muscles are a little stronger too. Not enough that the weakest ghoul is stronger than the strongest human, but it’s not an insignificant advantage. I was always one of the best performers in PE, and I’ve never worked out in my life. So we’re harder to injure, and our strength lets us push through some injuries that would incapacitate a human. But we don’t heal any faster than humans do, or any cleaner.

Contrary to what the politicians said when they passed the Chemical Exterminants Act.

… I think this one started with a human fetish artist, actually. No. We do not.

Ghouls have two sets of teeth

This one is true, although most of the time you’d never know unless you did an autopsy on one of us. Fetish artists, go nuts with this one.

{Editing Note: Do I really want to directly address ghoul fetishists in the book that will redefine the relationship between ghouls and humans that has existed for as long as anyone can remember? Maybe. At least they have a vested interest in keeping us from being wiped out?}

Ghouls can’t eat human food

False, at least in the most literal sense. If we physically couldn’t eat human food, we’d have all been found and killed a long time ago. We can consume things other than human flesh, but they don’t do anything for us nutritionally, and they don’t taste good to us either. That doesn’t always mean they taste bad, though. If we eat too much it will make us sick, however, and some things will make us sicker faster, or make us more sick than other things. Some of us even have allergies. For example, grapes give me hives. A single chicken nugget will trap me in the bathroom for the rest of the day. French fries, on the other hand... I almost manage to enjoy french fries sometimes.

Ghouls have better senses than humans do

This one’s a mixed bag. Our sense of smell is definitely better. That’s how Scarlet and I found each other; we could smell the flesh on each other’s breath. But as for the rest… Some people say our hearing is worse, but I’ve never come across anything conclusive one way or the other. I might just have bad ears. Our sense of taste is definitely different, but I don’t think it’s necessarily better or worse. We’re just adapted to taste different things. I’m pretty positive our sense of touch is the same. As for sight, our night vision is better, but only sometimes. I’ll get to that in a minute.

Ghouls true forms are terrifying and inhuman

Definitely false, but there’s a tiny kernel of truth a little to the left of this one. Most of the time, we look indistinguishable from humans, which is definitely an evolutionary advantage. But we have three traits that help us when we hunt. They mark us as distinctly inhuman, so it’s a good thing that they only come out when we want them to. First, our nails are a lot harder than human nails, and we can cause them to extend, like claws. They can rip through flesh and most cloth without breaking. Second, that second set of teeth I mentioned earlier. They’re sharper, better for tearing flesh. Our mouths have to distend a bit to make room for them, so that’s a dead giveaway when they’re out. Third, our eyes. We can dilate them a lot wider than humans, and we can control their dilation consciously. That’s what I meant about better night vision.

Last one.

Ghouls are monsters. They must be exterminated

Keep reading. Maybe by the end of this book, you can answer that for me.

#my writing #original fiction #not tlt #memoirs of a flesh eater

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daily-dose-of-imagines · 3 years

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ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ɴᴏᴛ | ᴋᴀɪ ᴄʜɪꜱᴀᴋɪ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱʜᴏᴛ

Y’all thought it was oVER? lolol Blame Admin T--- I asked her who I should write for BNHA and she said this SO ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ As always, thank you all so much for the love and support for this blog~! I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did with writing it~!

I do apologize if I don’t capture his character the best ;;”

I won’t lie, I was listening to Might U as I was writing this.

» » Admin Ko

Tedious. At least, that’s what it should’ve been. Yet instead of feeling the normal bouts of irritation at the lack of control he had over the situation at hand, he felt...unnerved. The imaginary seed that was implanted in his stomach all those months ago seemed to only gain in mass.

“...Who are you?”

He shouldn’t have allowed himself to grow these...feelings. Not only did he feel contaminated and utterly sick to his stomach, but the strange ache in his chest did nothing to help soothe his frazzled nerves as those curious yet dim (e/c) hues peered into his sorrowful golden ones.

“...My name is Chisaki Kai...”

“Oh! Hello Chisaki.”

A bout of coughing and another grimace as the pain in his chest amplified tenfold at the horrifying sound. It disgusted him. It truly did, yet instead of feeling the need to get away, he wanted to get closer to her. To comfort her-- hell to shake some common sense into her. Even if it meant he would break out, he just had to do something.

“I...apologize if this seems rude...”

“What is it?”

“...what happened to your arms?”

“...I lost them because I was careless. This...I suppose, is my punishment.”

Her curious stare continued to wash over him as he felt the prickle of goosebumps rise on his shoulders. Turning away, he kept his gaze on the vacant wall of the hospital ward. This was torturous. She was torturous.

Yet still she managed to worm her way into his heart, and he didn’t know whether or not if he wanted to ask for cardiac surgery or to embrace this newfound emotion.

All he really knew was that if he had only been smarter-- hell maybe even faster at coming up with the quirk-destroying drug he could’ve prevented this. He could’ve gotten rid of the parasite that lurked in her veins.

➽───────────────❥

6 Months Ago

“Patient name: (y/n) (l/n). Quirk: Amnesiac.”

Trudging down the corridor, the man once known as Overhaul, walked in step alongside his parole officer / attending doctor. It hadn’t been too long since his arrest and...amputation. In all honesty, he wondered why he was being granted this rare privilege.

An assistant for a patient. That’s all they had told him. Of course Kai had to scoff. How on earth was he supposed to help? With the lack of usable limbs and knowledge limited to that of basic medical needs he didn’t really find a real necessity in this patient’s apparent ‘recovery’.

“...Amnesiac?”

“As it’s name implies, it’s a quirk that deals the user amnesia--- yet in our patient’s case it not only forces her to lose her memories, but practically breaks down her body’s physical state.”

“...In simpler terms?”

“In short every time she loses her memory her body deteriorates along with it. It’s as if her body is, in a sense...rewinding itself forward to make up for the fact that she lost those memories.”

A grimace. If he could, he would’ve spat out that he had been right in his assumption that quirks were just an infestation to the world, this patient clearly being a poor victim of it.

“...And what is my purpose of ‘assisting’ you?”

“As far as I’m aware, you’re pretty damn heartless and selfish. So it should be easy for you to not catch feelings for her whilst being a constant in her life right?”

“A...constant.”

“Yeah, just someone who she sees everyday until well...”

“She passes.”

“I mean...yeah. Damn you really are heartless.”

“Tch. This is a waste of my time is what this is.”

“Hey, you’re helping me whether you want to or not man. It’s just a visit everyday for like, an hour or two at most.”

Another grimace was given as Kai felt a shiver run down his spine. Despite the place he would be in was a hospital, it still brought the ex-yakuza boss a sense of dread. Especially with the amount of infested bodies that littered the place.

“...how long?”

“Holy shit dude, I get that you don’t want to do this but seriously---”

“How long until she loses her memory you dumbass.”

“..Oh. Well, from what we gather they can last from a day, to a couple of months. Though the longer she stays in a...well, let’s call it a session, the more it harms her body.”

“So say she forgets me tomorrow.”

“Then her body moves forward a day.”

“....After a month?”

“She lurches forward a month.”

“Thus leading to a quick progression in her deteriorating health.”

“...Exactly.”

It was, to say the least, unsettling to hear. Never had he heard of such a sickening twist for a quirk. No matter, the deal was simple. If he was lucky, this would last a year-- as fucked up as it sounded, the sooner she passed the less she would suffer in the long run.

As they neared the door, the clear unease that settled on his features was one that his parole doctor could see from a mile away.

“Chill dude, it’ll be fine.”

With that, the door cracked open, and there seated quietly whilst reading a book was a woman. By any standards she was normal, average, easy on the eyes with a slight fae-like feel. Though really it was most likely the early evening glow that cascaded into her room the moment they entered.

All Kai really knew was that it was the moment when gold met glittering (e/c) hues that a seed lodged it’s way into his stomach.

➽───────────────❥

It had started off easy-- well in Kai’s opinion it had. Every other day seemed to be a new start to the ritual that was re-introducing himself to her and making small talk.

In all honesty, he wouldn’t admit it, but the simplicity of being able to have a normal conversation with someone brought a sense of peace in him. Of course this didn’t mean his usual snark and calculating ways-- or so he says.

For Kai, this change in routine was oddly enough, welcomed. With everything he had gone and the collogues he had imprisoned god knows where, the opportunity to engage in small talk was to say the least, enlightening. It had surprised him. As someone who sought out tactical moves in reading his opponents, he found himself at ease with the simplicity of where he was at.

Granted it was albeit dull in comparison to the interrogations he goes through, it was still a part of his routine that he refused to change. Not when he’s been so invested in it.

That changes when the day he enters her room to find that instead of having to reintroduce himself to her, she remembers him. She flashes him a gentle smile with an endearing, “How are you?” and that in itself has the former yakuza leader lose his breath as he can only comically blink at her before forcing himself to adjust to this strange change.

No later did another change occur that brought a wave of new emotions in him. She had touched him. A caress to his cheek, and unsurprisingly in that moment he broke out in hives. His sight blurring as panic shot through his system at the abundance of thoughts that struck his head as the irritation from the hives had him reeling away from her.

He didn’t see her distressed face. Nor did he see the tears that streamed down her cheeks as she desperately sought out someone to help him. Instead, he awoke to his room laying down with his hives treated.

He felt violated. Disgusted, yet still. Even with that he found himself at her door a week later. Prepared to start a new with her and a possible replay of what had happened a week prior. Instead, he found her bowed deeply at the waist as she tightly clutched at the thin fabric of her hospital gown.

“I’m so sorry Chisaki! I didn’t know...I deeply apologize for what had happened!”

“...You...remembered?”

“Of course! You’re someone I can never forget.”

The pit in his stomach grew tenfold as his feet began to walk towards the awaiting lounge chair. Golden hues met truthful (e/c) ones as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat before once again bowing.

“I really am sorry...I shouldn’t have reached out to you like that...”

“...just be more aware next time.”

And like that, the pit in his stomach continued to grow. With each passing day she retained her memories, the more the pit swelled in size, and the more she began to work her way into his heart.

➽───────────────❥

Present Day

He didn’t know why he felt an overwhelming pressure in his gut. The lack of food he ate was odd enough, but to actively avoid something out of his daily routine? It was unheard of. He even made that stupid request to ask his parole doctor to grab (y/n) that stupid drink she liked.

Mentally shaking his head, Kai lightly tapped his shoe against the door before sliding it open.

The sight bestowed upon him though was one that could’ve brought him to his knees as the pang in his chest seemed to duly ache as he dragged his feet into the room.

“...(y/n)?”

It was quiet. The warm beams of the spring sun settled on her pale features as dim (e/c) orbs glimmered at the sight of him. He should’ve seen this coming. Especially after she had remembered him the day it set everything out of pattern. Instead, he turned a blind eye. Out of pure ignorance? He wasn’t remotely sure anymore. All he knew was that she shouldn’t be like this.

She should be her stupid lively self, cracking jokes and sharing her stupid stories with him. Not laying there like a corpse.

“Ah...Chi-- Kai, sorry you caught me waking up from a nap. I’m sorry I don’t look more presentable...”

“Nonsense. Now, tell me what you’ve done today.”

“Straight to the point huh? Sometimes I wonder how you’d ever date anyone.”

Though weak, the teasing tone she held in her voice was one that added more weight to his chest as he seated himself in what she declared the ‘(y/n)’s best friend’s chair’. A stupid name if you asked him, but he wouldn’t tell her that.

And like that, she spoke of her day, simple tasks and duties she’s done during her stay at the hospital while Kai listened to her as the best friend she claimed he was.

As for the new name basis, Kai couldn’t tell anyone when it picked up. All he knew was that it didn’t piss him off as much as it should’ve.

As the time neared for him to leave, she stopped him. A look of hesitance on her face as irritation seemed to grow on his own.

“What is it?”

“....Can I hold your face?”

“What?!”

“With gloves on!”

The statement caught him by surprise. Already he felt the disgusting voices in the back of his head whisper at him yet instead of acting on those voices he found himself mutely staring at her as she fumbled over her words.

All he could really pick out was the light blush that was on her cheeks. The spark of color that brought his feet towards her bedside as she stared up at him with shock in those (e/c) eyes.

“Tch. What are you waiting for?”

Caught off guard, she could only stare at him for a moment before giddily shifting herself to get off the bed. A noise of distaste left his throat at her motion as she merely rolled her eyes and shushed him as she went to fervently clean her hands before snapping on the gloves.

Yet as she did this he couldn’t help but feel the ache in his chest grow even more at the sight of her frail hands and the subtle appearance of a bruise around her wrist at her careless motion of snapping the gloves on. This was immediately forgone as she walked up to him, mindful to keep a distance before she hesitantly held her hands out in a flower cup motion.

At first, Kai had no idea what she was doing, but as he grew to analyze the situation-- as well as remember the odd videos and photos she decided to show him as she sought a sort of relationship herself-- he carefully put his chin into her hands. The hesitancy of her fingers brushing his cheeks pulled a new sort of fondness in his chest as he finally relaxed his cheek against her shy hand.

Golden eyes peered deeply into glimmering (e/c) as he watched her face light up with the most color he had see on her that day. Satisfied, he waited until she finally let go.

“...Thank you, Kai.”

“No problem.”

“No really...thank you...for everything.”

Unease quickly overtook the fondness in his heart as he straightened himself out. Confusion was clearly matted onto his features as he stared down at her.

“...Why are you saying that?”

“What? I can’t say what I want for once? You let me all the time so just let me say this too!”

Finding the whole situation uncomfortable, Kai made his way to the door once more. Though before he left he motioned with his head for her to get back into bed. In response, he got her usual snark as she stuck her tongue out before carefully getting back into bed.

“If you’re on good behavior tomorrow, I’ll have your doctor bring you that drink of yours.”

The light in her eyes was enough to satisfy him and his worries as she nodded quickly before giving him a mock salute as she excitedly got herself comfy in the bed.

“Alright, you promised Kai~!”

➽───────────────❥

“Who are you?”

It should’ve have hurt him as much as it did, but after 6 fucking months. 6 months of her being a daily part of his life where she did not forget him for a single moment came crashing down. The tremble that clutched tightly to his words as he re-introduced himself went unnoticed as he slowly made his way towards the lounge chair that was once considered to be (y/n)’s best friend’s chair.

“...My name is Chisaki Kai.”

“Oh! Hello Chisaki.”

He could tell she was straining with keeping up a happy front. Her appearance was frail. So delicate that he feared anyone who touched her would be the cause of her disappearing before his eyes. The drink he had requested for her sat innocently on the bedside table as she gave him a reassuring smile.

“It’s going to be okay...”

“...what?”

“You look...distressed, I wanted to just reassure you things will be okay.”

No they won’t. He wanted to scream it at her, that the rasp in her voice was punching holes into his gut. That the frail breathing she had was worse than his quirk being taken away from him.

And in that moment, they stayed in silence. Merely watching one another with mixed emotions before he broke back into the routine he once thought would be meaningless.

“...What did you do today?”

Her words, though slow, told him of a peaceful day. One with little adventures and many simple moments that he’s come to slowly appreciate in his own life.

Though as the hour of his leave came, he found it hard to get up from the chair. His feet staying practically cemented to the floor as he watched her peer out the window as the warm rays of the early evening sun cascaded over her. Much like it had that day he first saw her.

Forcefully pushing himself up from the chair, he made his way towards the door. Yet each step he took towards it the more the aching feeling in his chest grew as the fear of his last day in that room came to it’s due date.

“...Kai? Can you turn around for me...just once?”

The words caught him completely off guard as he turned to face her. Those eyes no longer were filed with guarded walls. Instead he was met with the face of (y/n). The woman he came to slowly adore within the past 6 months.

He didn’t even think. Instead he surged forward, practically bruising his legs at the force he decided to stop himself with. Though he didn’t care. The bruises be damned, she remembered him.

“...Can I hold your face? One more time? I promise I won’t ask again. I’ll even wear gloves!”

“...No need.”

The aching in his chest grew tenfold as he found it hard to speak. The overwhelming emotions that sat in his chest were ready to burst out of him. Though he wasn’t sure how. Instead he bent down slightly, finding her confused face even more endearing before he rolled his eyes.

“Well?”

“B-But...the hives---”

“I don’t care. Hurry the fuck up.”

Like that, the confusion vanished as she gently put her hands together in that familiar flower cup motion. Worry was clearly evident in her eyes as she looked at him, but before she could even question again he placed his chin into her awaiting hands. Already the prickly sensation of the hives began to pool as he could feel them form across his skin.

“K-Kai--”

“It’s fine. Shut up. You said you won’t ask again.”

“T-That’s true...”

“Tch. You can make it up to me by getting better so I can show you the world.”

“...when you’re not in prison anymore, right?”

“Right...”

It was hard to speak now. The lump that once was in his stomach had traveled to his throat as he watched her warm (e/c) glisten with unshed tears as she gently caressed his cheeks, ever so mindful of his hives as she tried to at least move her hands. Instead, the male pressed himself further into her touch as the tears began to fall. If anyone noticed the strain in his voice, they didn’t mention it.

“...If you’re gonna be greedy that do what you’ve been wanting to do you romantic obsessed moron.”

With that, she shifted forward before pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead as the tears came down harder. The lump in his throat making it almost unbearable to talk.

“...Thank you Kai...thank you so much for these six months...”

“.....”

“Don’t forget me...okay?”

“Idiot...as if I could even forget the one dumbass that made me breakout after my imprisonment.”

A weak laugh was given as she finally pulled away. With her eyes rimmed red, she shifted to make a call for a nurse, though that was cut short as Kai surprisingly climbed into her bed. No words were exchanged as she reluctantly shifted herself down into the bed-- though it did take time, she managed to curl herself in a way where she left distance between them.

“...aren’t you supposed to go?”

Featherlike and faint, he strained to hear her as he shifted himself down to properly face her as he melted in her (e/c) gaze. The slow dimming of life in her eyes was enough to tell him that it was time. However, he refused to believe it. If anything he’d find her awake the next day with that silly smile on her face. Yet even as he thought about this, the tears that he once thought were impossible for him, slowly began to stream down his cheeks as he nestled himself closer to her.

“....one day won’t kill them.”

“...mmm...”

“....go to sleep angel, I’ll be right here...”

“...and...you’ll be next to me?”

“...always.”

➽───────────────❥

Patient Name: (y/n) (l/n) Chisaki Quirk: Amnesiac

Time of Death: 6:05PM

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #overhaul x reader #kai chisaki x reader #chisaki kai x reader #chisaki x reader #mha scenarios #bnha scenarios #mha imagines #bnha imagines #chisaki angst #we about to drop more angst in this bish #i know i should be working on wips and requests but i can't help it ksksksk

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marrys-dream-world · 3 years

Text

lovers alone wear sunlight (chapter eight)

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven

Read on AO3

Notes: Day 20: Escape. @ladrienjune

Ladybug absolutely detested the cold season.

Tikki had warned her, at the beginning of the end of her normal life™ , that she would retain some of the characteristics of the ladybug insect because of her miraculous. It was just September, so she brushed it off easily, mind filled with the electrifying sensation of flying and the rush of falling for the sunshine that occupied the seat in front of her in class. Of course, now during the old drags of Paris’ rainy season, it never left her mind, especially as she was soaked to the bone.

It had just been a drizzle when she left her house, even though Tikki had strongly advised her against it. But Adrien had been upset during the day, eyes cloudy as he looked out of the wind for most of the period. Ms. Bustier, aware of the good student Adrien is, didn’t call him out in favor of asking Marinette to please look at the board and not her classmate. She had turned tomato red and hid behind her book, but didn’t miss the concerned look her teacher sent Adrien and the way she held him back for a few minutes after class, talking in hushed tones in the empty classroom.

At least I won’t die if I fall. Ladybug thought as she threw her yo-yo at the slippery slopes of the buildings. The rain was starting to get even heavier, but she soldiered on as the light of Adrien’s window grew closer and closer.

When she finally reached it, she knocked desperately, precariously perched on the most solid thing she could find. She couldn’t see Adrien through the foggy and drenched glass, so she almost fell forward when he suddenly opened the window. Fortunately, strong arms caught before she could hit the ground.

“Falling for me, my hero?” Adrien said softly, the ghost of a smile pulling on his lips. Just by seeing him, it felt like the rain outside got lighter and the sky wasn’t as grey anymore.

“Can't deny it, handsome.” She said, cuddling against his chest before her eyes snapped wide open. “I got you all wet!”

“It’s just water.” He shrugged it off, squeezing her shoulder. He seemed to do that a lot, whether she was Ladybug or just Marinette. “I’ll get you a towel.”

“Thanks.” Ladybug said, using his distraction to take in the sight of him.

She hadn't imagined his bad disposition at all. Adrien looked frail, shoulders slumped and skin pale. He walked sluggishly to his closet, the small smile he wore whenever she was around leaving his face.

“Is everything okay, Adrien?” Ladybug asked, unwilling to beat around the bush. They cried in each other’s arms too much (a worrying amount, to be honest) for her to hesitate asking.

He turned to her and opened his mouth and then closed it again, frowning and handing her the bigger towel he got. He motioned for her to turn around and after she did, he started to dry her hair gently with a smaller towel he had in hands.

“Today is my mother’s birthday.” He said simply and it knocked her breath away. “My father and I haven’t really been talking these days, you know why. But I thought that since it’s today, we could spend some time together. It’s not like he would let aunt Amelie and Félix come back here after what happened last time.”

Ladybug shuddered as he thought of Adrien’s creepy cousin. She couldn’t believe that she agreed with Gabriel Agreste on something.

“So I asked him if we could spend the day together, watch one of mom’s movies and maybe get her favorite orange cake just to celebrate her, but he…” Adrien laughed wetly. “Let’s just say I wish he just told me a simple no.”

“Oh, Adrien…” She dropped her towel and turned around to hug his shaking form. “It’s okay, you can let it out.”

“I’m just so tired of crying, Ladybug.” He choked out. “It feels like it’s all I’ve been doing lately. It’s not fair, I should be happy.”

“Adrien?” She said hesitantly, taking notice of the hysterical note his voice took.

“I have friends, I’m going to school and I have a wonderful girlfriend. I should be happy. Hell, I should be ecstatic!” His voice slowly grew in volume and she desantagled herself from his arms to look at his glassy eyes. “Why am I not happy?”

Because of your father. She wanted to say. Because Adrien’s weird complex with his model persona? His isolation from his friends? His family drama? It all boiled down to Gabriel and it would be so easy for her to just say it.... But Adrien was too vulnerable right now.

Because of me. She also wanted to say. Because Adrien’s school life wasn’t as enjoyable with Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s avoidance of him and the whole class aware of their forced break up. Alya urged to talk to him everyday, but just the thought of facing Adrien with no mask after everything that happened made her skin break out into hives.

Because of me. She wanted to say even more, emphasize. Because Ladybug, as Adrien’s girlfriend, was absolutely useless. She was someone whose real name and face he didn’t know, who he couldn’t introduce to his friends and family. And if he did? It was doomed anyways. She felt helpless, relying on words when all she wanted was to fix his problems.

She would never say any of that, though, too scared of ruining her relationship with Adrien.

Like you ruined yours with Chat? A malicious voice rang around her head. It sounded like herself.

“It’s all I ever wanted…” He continued, sounding exhausted. “So why am I like this?”

“You don’t have to be happy just because you have those things, you know?” She said gently, taking his hand on hers. “It doesn’t make you ungrateful or anything.”

“I-I guess so.” Adrien admitted, squeezing her hand. “But I’m just tired of being sad, Ladybug.”

An idea popped into her head.

“Then let’s do something about it.” Ladybug looked outside the window and sure enough, the rain had faded away, leaving the cloudy sky. “You know what always cheers me up? A yo-yo ride.”

“Are you saying…?” He said, eyes becoming more focused.

“Do you think your father would notice if you left?”

He snorted. “Definitely not. But what if it rains again?”

“It’s not like we're made of sugar.” She said, opening the window and holding out her hand. “I would never let you fall. Trust me?”

Adrien’s eyes softened. “Always, my love.”

And then they were soaring through the sky. Even though it was barely after five in the afternoon, the sky was dark enough it looked like late at night, so Adrien got the full experience of soaring through the Parisian night lights. Ladybug had a hard time steering them as she could barely keep her eyes away from Adrien’s awed face and shining eyes. They swung between the building for a few minutes before she noticed he was shivering, so they stopped on top of a very familiar building near her parent’s bakery.

Chat’s rooftop for the romantic surprise that day… She shook away those thoughts before they could consume her.

“I should have told you to put on a sweater before we left.” Ladybug told Adrien, hugging his shivering body to her. “I forget how windy it can get and that I don’t feel very cold in the suit and…”

“Hey, it’s okay, my hero.” He said, sounding a lot more chirpy than before. “I got so excited that I forgot, too.”

“Well, at least I can warm you up like this.” She said, tightening her arms and he hummed happily.

“Maybe that was my plan all along.” Adrien teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You only had to ask, handsome.” Ladybug answered, enjoying the flush it brought to his face. “So, did you enjoy it?”

“Enjoy it? I loved it! It felt so… different.” His smile was brighter than the lights around them.

“Good. You deserve to have nice things.” She said, rubbing his back. “Look, I can’t solve all your problems, no matter how much I want to. But if I can give you anything in my reach, please tell me.”

“You already do more than enough, my love.” And he truly believed that, from the way he looked at her. “I just get overwhelmed, sometimes. I feel like I’m in such a better place than I was last year, so I shouldn’t be so… ungrateful.”

“You’re not ungrateful, Adrien.” She repeated her words from their previous conversation. “It’s okay to be sad.”

“I know that, objectively, but it doesn’t feel like that.” Adrien sighed, looking up from the girl in his arms to the sky. “Uh… Ladybug?”

“Yeah?”

“I think it’s going to-” Before he could finish, it started to rain once again, heavily.

Ladybug spluttered and Adrien, already looking soaked, laughed at the ridiculous situation. She quickly contemplated her options, holding back from just grabbing Adrien and taking him to her balcony so they could hide in her room. Instead, she did what she always did when she didn’t know what to do.

“Lucky Charm!” She shouted, magic flaring up around her and changing her suit to its new form. An open umbrella fell into her hands and she put it over their heads, even if they were already too wet for it to be useful.

“Wow.” Adrien said, eyes shining. “I haven’t been able to see it so close yet. Especially since you’re not, you know, in battle.”

“I’m still getting used to this transformation after transformation stuff.” She said, trying to steady the umbrella against the strong wind. “What do you think of the new suit?”

“I think it suits you.” He said and laughed when she rolled her eyes. “Thanks for lucky charming this umbrella. Think I can keep it?”

“Dunno, never tried to keep a lucky charm. But why? Can’t even buy an umbrella, rich boy?”

“I did have you. It was my mother’s, but it’s safe with a friend. A good one.” His gaze turned melancholic as it slid to the balcony on the top of Tom&Sabine’s.

She was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to tell him. Tell him she has his umbrella, that it meant so much more to her than he could ever think, that there has never been anyone else for her, that her coming to visit him was as much for her sake as it was for his, that she wanted to hold his hand in class, that she wanted to go on double dates with Nino and Alya, that she wanted his father to suck it if he disapproved.That she’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng and she’s irrevocably in love with Adrien Agreste.

But she can’t. And didn’t that hurt?

“I’m glad you have good friends, Adrien.” She said, burying her head on his chest so he wouldn’t see the guilt in her eyes.

“I’m glad, too.” He murmured back, unaware of how her chest was caving in under the weight of so much emotion.

They stayed under the umbrella until the heavy rain wore down. When Marinette woke up with a light fever and a sore throat the next day and her doting mother called the school to say she wouldn’t show up, she only had one thought on her mind.

I want to tell Adrien who I am.

#ladrienjune #ladrienjune2021 #ladrien #ladybug #adrien agreste #ml fic #my stuff #lovers alone wear sunlight

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josmoore · 3 years

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𝕄𝔸𝕂𝔼 𝔸 ℙ𝔸ℂ𝕋 𝕎𝕀𝕋ℍ 𝕐𝕆𝕌 𝔸ℕ𝔻 𝔾𝕆𝔻 —

𝕚𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕞𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕚 𝕤𝕨𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚'𝕞 𝕘𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕒

𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕗𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕪

full name: josiah barnabas moore

reason for name: both names were chosen by his mother — josiah, meaning god has healed, was her father’s name, and barnabas, son of consolation, was his father’s name before him

nickname(s): jo, jos, josie, jojo / sparrow’s nicknames for him are plentiful and do not make the cut

date of birth: may 2, 1995

age: twenty-six

gender + pronouns: cismale + he/him

place of birth: roswell, new mexico

parents: oliver moore + laurel moore ( née abrams )

siblings: sparrow ( twin ) / jade ( older sister ) / rowan + wyatt ( older brothers )

relationship with family: grew up very close with all of his siblings, particularly sparrow and jade but became distant after their parents’ divorce as his father and his siblings all left roswell / tried to keep in touch with siblings but unsuccessful save for jade and rarely his brothers / extremely close with his mother

pets: several colonies of bees in hive boxes out back behind the trailer

𝕡𝕙𝕪𝕤𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝

height: 5′11

build: broad / muscular / athletic

nationality: american

ethnicity: a mix of several, including english + russian + ashkenazi jewish

distinguishing facial features: bright blue irises / thick + bold eyebrows / sharp jaw

hair color: brunet that lightens in the summer

usual hair style: wild unruly curls held back with a rolled bandana / lil’ bun sometimes

eye color: bright, light blue

complexion: tanned from years outside tending to the bees ( read: farmer’s tan ) / freckled shoulders

disabilities: alcohol use disorder / intermittent explosive disorder

what do they consider their best feature?: he doesn’t think he has one, but if he had to answer, his mama always said it was his eyes

worst they’ve ever been injured?: gouged his right thigh open on some jagged fencing when he was running from the cops one night as a teenager trespassing on walker air force base + needed fourteen stitches / extensive second degree burns from a radiator bursting at the shop a few years back / broke three ribs in a fight one time and could barely move for about a week

𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖

favorite outfit: a pair of well-worn levis / white cotton t-shirt / brown leather work boots / maybe one of his brothers’ old hand-me-down flannels depending on the weather

glasses? contacts?: twenty-twenty vision

personal hygiene: clean + showers daily but still smells like motor oil and cigarettes

jewelry? tattoos? piercings?: woven bracelet his sister made him when they were kids / a crystal tree of life inside of wire pendant shaped like the star of david that his mama made by hand worn on a chain around his neck / several tattoos, the most notable of which are an orchid on his neck + the roman numeral v on the inside of his right ring finger + a laurel branch over his heart + hebrew script on his left hip reading לחיות לא במראה אלא באמונה, or live not by sight but by faith

what does their voice sound like?: kind of gruff, the rough around the ages that comes from years of smoking cigarettes and shouting at rowdy bargoers

style of speech: slow and quiet / takes his time talking / loud when he’s agitated or feeling argumentative

accent?: a bit of one, influenced by a lifetime in new mexico and his mother’s southern roots

unique mannerisms/physical habits: twists his curls absently when he’s tired, a trait he’s had since he was a kid / chain-smoking, pacing and picking at his cuticles when he’s anxious or upset / playing with the pendant his mama gave him when he’s thinking

left handed or right?: right-handed

do they work out/exercise?: working 90+ hours/week is enough, he’s dead on his feet if he’s off the clock

𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕗𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕔𝕥

known languages: english

zodiac: sun taurus / moon cancer / ascendant sagittarius

gifts/talents: playing the fiddle / winning rigged carnival games / mixing a damn good drink

religious stance: jewish, raised in a jewish/catholic household / observes only major holidays + holy days

political stance: liberal

pet peeves: gossip / fidgeting / lying / unnecessary or dull conversation / tourists / alien talk

optimist or pessimist: realist / pessimist

extrovert or introvert: introvert

𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕔𝕪 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡𝕤

relationship status: single / interested in one ( 1 ) blonde gremlin

sexual orientation: bisexual / not open about it

ideal mate/qualities they look for in mate: argumentative / affectionate / adventurous

ever been in love?: maybe, but he’s not sure he knows what it feels like / tbd / could be rn who knows?

what’s their love language?: acts of service / quality time

most important person in their life?: mama moore, no question

𝕧𝕠𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

level of education: diploma from roswell high school

profession: mechanic + bartender

past occupations: none / got a job at sanders’ before he’d fully graduated high school

dream occupation: fulltime beekeeper

passions: beekeeping + bee rescue / his family / mixology / music / woodworking + construction

attitude towards current job: grateful he has the income of both, even if it is absolutely exhausting

spender or saver? why?: spending, but not by choice — mama’s medical bills on top of the simple cost of living mean there’s not a lot to save after everything’s paid up anyhow, but josiah doesn’t bat an eye handing over damn near his entire paycheck for her

which is more important – money or doing something they love?: right now it’s the money, because the health of the person he loves most is on the line and he’s struggling enough as it is to make ends meet, but sometimes when he’s laying in bed at night he thinks how nice it would be, in a perfect world, to work just forty hours a week doing something he loves

𝕤𝕖𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕤

phobias: the ocean / natural bodies of water

life goals: stay in touch with his family this time around / save as many bees as he can / find love maybe

greatest fears: losing his mother / turning into his father / pushing away everyone he cares about / being alone after mama moore passes and all of his siblings leave again

most embarrassing thing ever to happen to him: probably causing a scene at jj’s birthday and being yelled at that he’s just like his daddy in front of a whole crowd of people / but also somewhere, on somebody’s phone, exists a video of him blackout drunk on tequila and shirtless, dancing to black velvet by alannah myles, on the bar of the wild pony sometime in winter of last year

something they’ve never told anyone: sometimes when mama’s asleep, he goes into her room and sits down on the floor by her bed and just cries until his head aches worse than his heart or he falls asleep

biggest regret: the first time he ever picked up a bottle + realized it was a comfort

compulsions: constantly working / being in a state of motion or busy / drinking

police/criminal/legal record: a colorful list of misdemeanor charges including assault / battery / public intoxication / trespassing / vandalism / resisting arrest / driving while intoxicated

vices: cigarettes / whiskey / long drives / late night conversations with daphne / phone calls to jade

𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤

hobbies: beekeeping / reading / woodworking / violin ( though not so much anymore )

favorite color: aegean blue

favorite smell: gasoline / meyer lemon / the dryer sheets out of the laundromat dispenser

favorite food: anything his mama used to cook / a full diner breakfast literally any time of day

favorite book: silent spring by rachel carson / walden by henry david thoreau

favorite movie: romeo + juliet directed by baz luhrmann

favorite song: nights in white satin by the moody blues

coffee or tea?: coffee, no cream but sweetened with honey

favorite type of weather: clear skies / warm / breezy

most prized possession: the family trailer, under his name when he became his mother’s p.o.a.

most used word or phrase?: for fuck’s sake

#☽ ⋆ [ about ]#roswelltask #alcohol tw #injury tw #hospital tw #cancer tw #insects tw #this is literal shit but i have been working on it for days #and wanted to post it before work #so i can finally start working on sulley's

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clevercatchphrase · 3 years

Text

2020 Year Review~

2020. Pretty unique year, don’t you think? It’s the first year since 2002 to have only two different digits in it. After 2022, this won’t happen again until 2111. Yep. Absolutely nothing more interesting than that.

Anyway! It’s time I reflect on my 2020, look back on my yearly goals and rant about things that happened to me this year. I made a post like this last year, where I went over my 2019 goals and talked about what I accomplished and what I didn’t, and it’s only fitting I do the same again this year. Read more under the cut for a random stream of consciousness ramble!

So, first things first, let’s look at my 2019 goals;

Finish paying off that last student loan

Put more stuff on my redbubble

Illustrate my own fan fics

Sew at least one stuffed animal

Make an enamel pin

Read one new book a month

Write one page a day/Complete at least one new fan fic

Learn Python or C# for the game I want to make

Finish fully scripting Ghost Switch

Boost my patreon

Paying Off My Last Student Loan: Going down the list, I am proud to say that I FINALLY paid off all my student loans! (and not a moment too soon. The last payment I made was literally days before the first quarantine rolled out). It took me roughly 4 years on my part-time paycheck to pay off all my loans, and once I finished, I had no money to my name (literally; I had less than 1k as emergency money in case of car troubles or health issues). Heck, I’m STILL living at home as a save up for a place of my own. Finally paying off all my student loans DID activate my secret 2020 new year’s resolution, which was to adopt a cat! I did this too, literally a week later! She is the best thing that’s happened to me this entire year and I love her so much and she is the snuggliest cuddle bug I’ve ever met. I’m so happy she’s in my life now~

Put More Stuff On My Redbubble: ah ha ha ha… I thought I did this, but then I went and checked, and it turns out-! I did not. I made art I intended to go on my redbubble, but haven’t put there yet. They are all drawings of some OCs from a game I want to make, but because I haven’t progressed on making the game this year, I never got around to putting more stuff related to it on my redbubble. At the time of writing, there are 7 days left in December, so I guess I could go and put it up on my redbubble right now, but without context on where the characters are from, there wouldn’t be much point, now would there?

Illustrate My Own Fan Fics: Another goal that I was so stoked to actually do… and then just didn’t. Gee, I wonder why I couldn’t find the energy or motivation to do it this year? Truly a conundrum. (Hey, you know what? If Ghost Switch counts as a fan fiction in a visual form, then I am doing GREAT on this goal. 2.5 years in, 1 of ~4 arcs done, and still going steady~)

Sew At Least One Stuffed Animal: Okay, I have a valid excuse for not doing this one. I even knew which stuffed animal I wanted to make, and had the pattern drawn out and everything, but I had no money for materials because I had just paid off my student loans. And then, by the time I did have enough money again, quarantine was in full effect and I couldn’t go out to the fabric store. I’m still trying my best to stay out of public places even if the rules are laxer now, because I don’t want to catch the plague even if everyone in my goddamn city thinks and acts like the problem is over already. Even if they’re all wearing masks, even if they’re staying 6 feet apart, I still don’t want to risk it. I will stay inside until health experts give the all clear, and when that day comes, then I will buy some fleece and make a plush.

Make An Enamel Pin: I ACTUALLY DID THIS ONE. TWICE! Halfway through quarantine, I was feeling anxious and depressed about my job and how they were planning to have me work with the public despite climbing infection rates and positive covid cases. I didn’t quit then, but in a desperate move to try and become self-sufficient, I went to madebycooper and made two enamel pins based on some butterfly dragons I drew last year. They’re on my etsy store now! I even went out of my way to open a P.O. box just to start a small business! I haven’t sold a single pin yet, and I’m actually really nervous to sell my first because I don’t trust the efficiency of the postal system thanks to the actions of the GOP that really screwed them over this year! (If you would like to see my enamel pins, click here!)

Read One Book A Month: I did this! With dragon books I bought a couple years back! In fact, I read FOURTEEN dragon books, and still have more books for next year to read! The 14 books I read this year were:

The Hive Queen

The Poison Jungle

Wings Of Fire Legends: Dragonslayer

Dealing With Dragons

Searching For Dragons

Calling on Dragons

Talking to Dragons

The Bronze Dragon Codex

The Brass Dragon Codex

The Black Dragon Codex

The Red Dragon Codex

The Silver Dragon Codex

Dragon Strike, and

Hatching Magic

To be honest, I had read The Red Dragon Codex years ago when it first came out, but completely forgotten what it was about. I remembered liking it, and I knew the reading level was on the lower side, but the whole dragon codex series was pretty good! So far, the Silver dragon codex was my favorite, and black dragon codex was probably the worst! Hatching Magic was also really slow and bad and had plot points that went nowhere, but the book was written in the 80s, so I don’t know what I expected. The Dealing with Dragons series was very charming and great for the most part, save for one line in the last book that really rubbed me the wrong way, and all the Wings of Fire Books go above and beyond in this third arc. The second legends book could be a little tighter, though (sky and wren are the best duo and I want a book solely about them, but I honest to god do not care about leaf and ivy’s stories.)

Write one Page of any story every day/ complete at least one fic: I… did this? Okay, I kinda cheated near the end of the year. I was keeping up the one page a day thing for the first four months, but then the world went to shit and my schedule and habits got disrupted and I fell off my good track record. I completed 7 out of roughly 12 one-shots I had planned for this year (my goal WAS supposed to be one short a month, but… you know how it happens) I kept trying to catch up on this goal all year, but the days kept piling up…. Until November hit. I managed to write over 250 pages for Nanowrimo, and I consider this goal a win. 365 pages of fiction in total, which averages out to about one a day~. SHUT UP IT COUNTS.

Learn Python or C# for the game I want to make: Another goal I didn’t have the mental energy to commit to this year. Truly a mystery to where all our willpower went in 2020.

Fully Finish Scripting Ghost Switch: still haven’t done this one yet! The Snowdin arc is completely planned, but I just haven’t gotten around to getting the other areas. I’m not worried, though. I know all the major plot points I gotta hit, it’s just weaving them together in a way that flows nice is the final task. I’m not too worried though. I don’t expect to finish the Snowdin arc for another year and a half, at the bare minimum.

And my last goal of 2020, Boost My Patreon. I did this at the beginning of the year, but then very intentionally stopped about a third of the way through. It didn’t sit right with me to tell you guys to donate to me when suddenly EVERYONE was financially strained from layoffs or being furloughed. I told my patrons the same, and if you ever need to stop donating to me to take care of yourself first, then by all means, please do. I would feel much better knowing you’re using your money to see yourself fed and housed instead of given to me (where it is pretty much only used to buy gas for my car, honestly)

Welp! That was all my goals for 2020! I achieved 4 out of 10 goals plus 1 secret goal! Pretty much the same ratio as last year, but now this time I can blame all my failures on the pandemic! I don’t feel so bad about myself anymore~

ON TO 2021!

I have 11 goals for the new year, again some rolled over from this list, and some from even older years. They are, in no particular order;

Read 12 new books (roughly 1 book a month)

Finish the first draft of 2019’s Nanowrimo project and rewrite it

Script TDV

Finish Scripting Ghost Switch

Build A Comic Buffer

Sew 1 Stuffed Animal

Finish 1 Song Comic

Make another Enamel Pin

Finish 2 short original comics (this one counts as 2 goals)

Finish the 5 remaining one-shot fics

Now to go into depth on each one, more for my own sake, really. I want to know exactly what I have planned for each goal this year, and sometimes just looking at a short list doesn’t capture all the smaller details.

1)Read 12 new books. Same as last year! I The only difference is I might not be able to make it all dragon-related books. (I try my hardest not to buy from amazon anymore, but half-price-books doesn’t always have the obscure stuff I’m looking for)

2)Finish 2019’s nanowrimo project. If you read my 2019 year reflection, you’ll notice I said I wanted to do some original writing. And I did! The story I wrote for nanowrimo back then was a story I’ve been toying with since 2017, but it was only last year I finally got pen to paper. Now, you may find it odd that the keyword says “finish”. You may think, “but isn’t that what you’re supposed to do for nanowrimo?” and to that I say, WRONG! I wrote 50k words for nanowrimo, but the draft was only about halfway complete. I was kinda discouraged about what I had written last year, because I didn’t like how it was coming out, but I did manage to get it half done. Now it’s time for me to bite the bullet and just finish the thing so I can finally revise it and make it into something I DO like. (It’s still gonna be hella long, tho. That’s what I get for trying to write an epic fantasy, I guess.)

3)Script TDV. TDV is the abbreviation of the game I want to make. I… still need to do so much for this project OTL… In addition to getting the story solidified, I still need to draw art and game assets, and learn how to code for it, both of which are no small task. I keep having some sort of new year’s goal related to this on my list, and every year I just don’t hit this one. Will 2021 be different?

4)Finish Scripting Ghost Switch. (Or at the very least, get the waterfall arc completely written out). I have a plan to break this down into simpler steps, by focusing on just one arc for a month or two. Every major arc has 2 to 3 parts, broken up by flashbacks, and if I can just finish one section a month, then I should have the entire thing scripted by the end of the year. It’s not a difficult pace, but seeing if I stick with it will be the real challenge, as it is will all my goals it seems.

5)Build a Comic Buffer: I’m actually working on this one right now! Since I paid off my last loan and got a new job this year, my current Patreon goals are kind of out of date. They had all been centered around me paying off that last loan, and working towards full-time employment, but those are both completed now! So instead, I would love to get to a place where my patrons could read pages at least a week ahead, and to do that, I need to build a buffer. And since I’m working 5 full days a week now, I can’t afford to fall behind. But you can’t fall behind if you constantly stay ahead! I would like to have… a 10 to 12 page buffer. That’s roughly 3 months’ worth of pages to always have on hand in case I get swamped with work, or something. Right now I currently have a buffer of 3, which will cover me for half a January, which is better than not having anything at all, but still not the best. (ultimately, I would love to have a buffer so big, I could queue them up for the whole year. Wouldn’t that be something?)

6) Sew one stuffed animal: same as last year. ASSUMING the plague gets under control in 2021, I don’t expect to get to this goal until the summer at the earliest.

7)Finish 1 song comic: I have 7 song comics planned. One is a gift, one possibly for wandersong, one is a collab that’s currently in the works, but I’m waiting on a friend to do their part before I can continue mine, 2 are UT related, and 2 (well, technically 3, but one is the collab) are KH related. It’s one of the UT ones that will probably get finished, if I’m being honest. It’s completely story boarded, and now I just need to ink and color it. I would like to get it done for UT’s 6th birthday, since I made a song comic on the fly for the anniversary this year, and it was fun, and I’d like to do it again! So, look forward to that next september~

8) Make another enamel pin: I have a dolphin design I’d like to make because dolphins are cute, if not little murder machines. (need to save up some expendable income first, tho. THESE THINGS AIN’T CHEAP TO MAKE.)

9 and 10) start and finish 2 original short comics: I’ve got some comic ideas I want to do, but I need to get them written out first. I don’t think either would be too long. Each maybe a couple “episode’s” length, if envisioned on a website like webtoons or tapas. They’d both be heavy in allegory, but not overly drawn out (hopefully)

11)And lastly, Finish the 5 remaining one-shots I had planned for this year but never got around to. I’m going to try to write one every other month. Pure self-indulgent shipping fluff. If I finish these 5, then maybe I’ll ask other people for more prompts and ideas, which I’ve never done before. We’ll see how it goes~

Also, Like last year, I’d like to look at everything that’s happened to me this year, though to be honest, I’m not sure how much I remember/how accurate it’ll be. God, I don’t even remember what January was like. Who was I back then? Who were we all back then? I guess I’ll start my yearly retrospective in march because, heh, god we ALL know what started happening in march.

Firstly, I paid off my last student loan! Then a week later on March 18th, I drove half an hour out of my city to adopt a cat and I love her and it was the best day of this year for me. Spring break is just beginning this weekend, but the attendance at the zoo is shockingly low this year. Apparently, a lot of people watch the news, and they’re all taking precautions about social distancing. I wasn’t too disappointed. Fewer people at the zoo, the easier my job is for me. I was looking forward to getting some free overtime on spring break, since I’m broke after paying off that loan, and I’m a cat parent now and have a furry child to feed. Monday rolls around. My manager calls me and tells me that the zoo is going into lockdown until further notice. I worry for the birds I take care of, but understand it’s for everyone’s safety.

For two months I sleep in and watch way too much YouTube. I join a couple writing discords. I have nightmares about my birds escaping their enclosure and I dreamed one of the security guards I really like at the zoo gets covid and has to go to the ER. I woke up really upset.

I started and finished BBS for the first time. I also replayed and finished KH2 final mix for the first time. It had been about 5 years since I last played KH2 before my PS2 died, and it was like coming home~ I also finished tearaway, and played and beat Ryme for a second time (which I can’t remember if I did that last year, but it was a fun experience regardless)

Mid-June, and I’m allowed to start going back to work, be it on reduced hours. The zoo is still closed to the public, but I’m loving it! I get to work with full-time keepers and do full-time keeper things. It’s so much fun not having to deal with the public. August starts to creep up and there’s a rumor that the zoo will be opening to the public again, which I’m not stoked about. I don’t want to go back to standing in one exhibit all day, talking to guests who don’t listen to the rules or to me. 2 of my younger coworkers (who had both only been there a couple of months) get chosen for full-time positions, while I get passed up which really pisses me off. My other 2 coworkers quit when they think we might be reopening because they cannot risk catching the virus due to at-risk family. I am now the last keeper in the interactive bird exhibit.

I keep working, the zoo slowly opens, but with me as the only interpreter in our interactive bird exhibit, we can’t open because I can’t run the entire exhibit by myself. So my exhibit stays closed. September comes and goes, and then October starts. Now there is more serious talk of opening my exhibit before the end of the year because the zoo expects to bring in larger crowds for the Christmas lights event in November/December. I ask if I get hazard pay or health insurance since I’m doing full-time hours until they hire more staff. They say no.

I immediately start searching for a new job feeling incredibly indignant/hurt/slighted/insulted/used/abused/ALL the negative feelings at my job. I had been there for 4 years, but never got a chance to work full time, while the two newest hires who had only been there 2 months both got moved up. I can’t help but feel they were holding one mistake I made two years ago against me and never wanted to give me a chance. (that, or they knew I was reliable when it came to showing up for work in such a volatile position that sees a lot of new faces, and they didn’t want to bother going through the process of hiring someone new) I don’t want to risk my life working around guests who don’t wash their hands and don’t properly distance. I don’t want to gamble with my health when they won’t offer me health insurance because I’m part time.

Mid October, I get an interview for a full time job and get hired on the spot. I peace out at the zoo 2 weeks later, literally 3 days before they planned to open my exhibit to the public. It was a close call for me to escape before they opened to the public (and pettiness was only partially the reason I dipped out so close to opening). Sorry new hires who are now in charge of the bird feeding exhibit. I taught you the best I could in the short time I had. If the managers are struggling with what to do with one less person, I can’t say I feel bad. I can only hope they delayed opening/closed you down again for your own safety. You are not lightbulbs. I really hope the higher ups stop considering you as replaceable as one. Will I go back to the zoo to visit? Probably. But not for a year at least.

I started my new job the very next day after I quit the zoo, and have been there ever since, (which isn’t that long yet, tbh. Christmas day was my 2 month anniversary). It’s full time, but it’s also a small business, and everyone’s hours this year have been on the short side due to the plague. I understand, though. They don’t want us to work if they can’t afford to pay us. Everyone is nice enough, though some people smoke and it’s hard to avoid them with how frequently we have to go in and out, and I really don’t want to get lung cancer, sorry not sorry, please and thank you. Also, with such a small team, gossip is certainly harder to go undetected, so it’s a relief knowing people don’t talk behind one another’s backs.

I participated and beat my 4th nanowrimo in a row, I made TWO apple crisps on thanksgiving, and made baklava on Christmas and both of these recipes were my first time making them, and they both came out adequately! I voted the first day of early voting, and I did an art trade/collab with two of my friends for my birthday! (normally we would have done monthly “art days” where we get together and do art projects for fun because we’re adults and we can spend our time together however we want, but the plague said otherwise this year) We drew pokemon and it was fun! (hopefully I can show you all the results soon. At the time of writing, I’m still waiting for the last two colored parts to get back to me)

I reached 100 pages on my undertale comic, and finish the first arc out of…! (im not sure. It’s either going to be 4 or 5, I haven’t decided yet)

Over all, I managed to stay healthy as far as I know. I wasn’t as productive as I wanted to be this year, but then again, who was? (don’t answer that. I don’t need that kind of comparison in my life right now)

Will 2021be any better? Honestly? I don’t think so. Not right away, at least. Just because a new year is about to start does not mean the slate is completely wiped clean. The change of the calendar year doesn’t magically make all our current problems disappear. Covid will still be here and cases will still climb when January starts. Small business will still be strained when the month rolls over, police will still go on murdering innocent civilians and getting away scot free, amazon and disney will still be monopolizing all consumer goods and media, and I can’t help but feel like there’s an impending shit show about to go down on inauguration day. I do hope things will get better, though. It’ll be arduous and unpleasant, but I do hope things will improve, because sometimes hoping is all you can do.

Good night.

#long post #new year's resolutions #year review #year retrospective

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skybound2 · 4 years

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Bad things that have happened in the last several days:

The snake that we took in 2 weeks ago escaped its enclosure sometime between Tuesday at midnight and Wednesday at 8 am. We still haven't found him. There is now an adorable and incredibly docile ball python loose in our house with our 2 cats, the younger of which plays rough with ANYTHING even remotely ribbon like 😬😬.

Our 15 year old greyhound who has extreme breathing problems tripped on a stick in the backyard yesterday and managed to damage BOTH her front right dewclaw and one of her rear left nails. The rear one we had to actually have pulled yesterday because it was so bad. This required a trip to the Vet, who then performed the procedure for us while our dog remained in the backseat of our car because she was too stressed out and they were afraid to move her into the clinic because of her breathing issues. She's doing okay now and is on antibiotics, thankfully. But she's also having a VERY hard time walking, which just makes her breathing issues worse.

Our older cat is notoriously fickle about his litter. Meaning that if you don't clean it fast enough after every use, he pees outside the box in protest. (Never mind that we have 3 boxes. If the one he goes to is dirty, you lose.) We have several rewashable litter mats to address this issue, because NORMALLY he pees DIRECTLY outside the box. But yesterday, because of everything else going on, I didn't respond fast enough I guess, so he peed on the Death Star rug near my desk, which is in the same room as a litter box. I only discovered this when I leaned down on the rug to look under the desk for the missing snake...

The same cat is also notorious for peeing on dirty towels if you stupidly drop one on the floor and leave the door to the bathroom open. For this reason the doors to the bathrooms are always kept closed. We've avoided him peeing on any towels in YEARS this way. Now guess what I didn't do yesterday after getting washed up from leaning on cat urine unexpectedly? Ya know, because of the forgetfulness that comes from extra stress and anxiety? *sigh*

Last week, I started using a cane for the first time ever because of some nerve issues in my left leg due to my MS. Luckily, this week I've noticed an improvement in that leg. Unfortunately, the reliance I've been putting on my right leg to compensate has caused a long term issue in my right ankle to flare up pretty bad. So today I started using the cane to help me walk because of THAT. I'm hobbling on both legs now. Joy.

I just stepped in cat vomit.

My husband's one sister, her husband and their daughter all have been confirmed with Covid. They are all symptomatic and obviously sick and in quarantine but stable at present. My sister-in-law, who has asthma, is doing the worst of the lot and has been advised that if she gets any worse then she will need to be admitted to the hospital.

Every year in spring I get contact dermatitis the way most people get seasonal allergies. I am a MESS of itchy hives and rashes right now and regular doses of benedryl are the only thing stopping me from scratching myself to death.

I have a rotten headache and could probably use a good cry, but I don't have the energy for it right now so I'm writing this post instead.

And now for a few good things to take the edge off:

Tonight, we got take out from one of our favorite restaurants because cooking was not a thing that was going to happen. It was delicious.

My husband just made me tea, brought me an ice pack for my ankle, and presented me with a platter of chocolate and strawberries. He's wonderful.

Today is another of our niece's birthdays. She is now 15, and is unbashadly a fangirl. I had a video call with her tonight and she spent most of it squealing happily over a Dragon Prince book she got. It was BY FAR the highlight of my entire week and I adore her a tremendous amount.

#Skybound2 whines a lot #All about me #Please do not reblog this #I'm just a mess right now #Don't mind me #I wanted to put a read more cute in this thing #But I'm on mobile #And can't figure it out

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dronexxx1 · 4 years

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The Calm Before!

Drew: I need something exciting in my life, everything sucks. My parent’s sucks, my friends sucks, and sometimes I think I suck. I need a change. I need to be happy. Why am I talking like this and I’m only 16 years old. My parent’s don’t understand me, nor get me. I can’t go to my friends for help and lord knows I can’t go to my support group, I need someone who is going to support, and love me for who I am.

later in the afternoon, Drew decides to go for a walk at his local park where it’s quiet around 6pm to closing. He is somehow fascinated by these monster’s that are called drones. He doesn’t know much about them other than they use to be ordinary people just like him but they are some how kidnapped and only seen at night time. he doesn’t know what their motives are or why they are here, but soon he is going to get the excitement he did not want.

Drew: I’m almost done with my own story of me becoming a drone, this is going to be so awesome, but I must not show anyone before I’m done with my story....(looks at watch), oh my god, it’s late already? 9:45pm? I need to get home. Oh man, I hope I don’t run into one of those things I am too scared to be near them...but yet, I love their looks, I love their suits, It may not be a bad thing. ALRIGHT YOU DRONES, PLEASE COME MAKE ME ONE OF YOU. I AM READY TO BE A DRONE....

Drew screams off the top of his lungs hoping a drone will hear him and capture him. He starts to walk out of the park but then sees a shadow near a tree before the exit gate...

Drew: H..Hello? Is someone there? I see your shadow, Don’t be scared.

My name is Drew, I...I know you are one of those drone people, that people are scared of but I am not scared of you. I actually am fascinated with what you guys are. Please come out?

Nothing happens for a minutes and drew sees a bench by him and decided to sit down to finish his story. It stays quiet for awhile, about 15mins goes by and no sound in the park. Drew is worried a bit.

Drew: This is starting to plan out just like in my story, The only thing that hasn’t happened yet is the pleasure, adult parts. This is really weird but I’m excited this is happening right now. I hope I’m able to get home soon. I’m just going to lay on my back here for a little bit before I start to walk home again and look at the stars. The stars are beautiful tonight.

While Drew is glancing at the stars, (he closes his eyes for a minute), and is laying on his back on the bench one of the Drones sees him and hovers above him. Drew opens his eyes and sees the Drone hovering over him, as they lock eyes. Drew isn’t scared but is in shock how beautiful their outfits and masks are from up close....

Drew:wow...This... this is amazing, Your suit is like it’s your own skin, and your mask is just amazing.....I need to get up and touch it....

As Drew is about to get up another drone appears by his feet and starts to tie him down

Drew: Wh....what? there is 2 of you?...what are you doing?.....let....let me go... let me go.....

As Drew start to struggle, the ropes starts to get tighter and the drones start to take his clothes off. The Drone that is in front of him pulls out a masks just like his and starts to put it on Drew’s face...The other drone is all done tying him down to the bench....

Drew: What is this, please take this off me, Hello? Somebody? HELLOOOO. ..HEEELP...PLEASE SOMEONE.....

Drew starts to scream off top of his lungs but no one around him hears him because the masks is sound proof and, he only hears himself...The 1st drone moves towards his nipples and starts to slowly touch him....then drew starts to hear a voice from the mask......Drew....Drew....Relax, Everything will be ok...We are here to protoect and keep you safe...Don’t struggle, don’t fight this...let it happen...This is what you’ve wanted isn’t it? Be prepared to be pleasured like no other..

Drew: what is going on? what’s happening to me? This touch....this feel, it feels...wonderful....The rubber touching me, I have never felt anything like this. Wait a minute? This is from my book, this is happening. :I want this more than ever, please....please take me away and make me like you!!!

as Drew makes that demand, the voice in the masks says as you wish...The first drone starts to lick and suck both of Drew nipples while he lays there helpless, the 2nd drone moves towards his crotch and starts stroking his penis and sucking it....

Drew: Oh....my...lord..This feels amazing, thank you voice, I will serve and obey. I will help feed the hive miind. I am yours...I won’t fight it. take from me, everything is all yous....

As drew is being pleasured by the Drones, his temperature starts to rise and white substance comes gushing out of him while both the drones lick it up from his body. Once the drones finishes with the boi, the mask initiates a locking system and Drew is about to be taken over

Drew: what was that, I can’t breathe. What’s going on, what’s this gas...cough cough... oh no...this is what I was afraid of.. cough cough... I’m done for, but, my book. Someone will see it and not think of what happened to me is what happened in my book. I hope they find me....cough cough cough cough sigh......

Drew passes out from the gas and the mask starts oozing out this black paint like substance, it covers up his entire body from neck all the way down.Both of the drones, picks Drew’s body up and walk out of the park. Drew’s books falls off the bench and that was the last we’ve seen of Drew......

The next day another kid 17 years old walks into the park, sees a book over by the bench. He walk over and sees the book and picks it up.....

Kid: What kind of book is this? It looks unfinished..Who’s this Drew kid? let’s see what’s inside this book.........TO BE CONTINUED

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gailynovelry · 4 years

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Writeblr Life Week — About Me

Well, I’ve already got a whole “About Me” page on Tumblr, but I might as well introduce myself properly here!

About Myself:

As a writer, I go by J.L. Heeren, or just Jordan, but my friends know me as Wenn. It’s a long story involving one of my oldest OCs.

I’m twenty years old (almost twenty-one), from the midwest, and happy to talk to other writers about craft. Sometimes, I offer advice. Sometimes, I need it. I started this blog last December, but I’ve been writing since I was fourteen and entirely too enthusiastic about making Horror-genre Pokemon fics.

My writing method is madness. I’m a methodological pantser by nature, which means I can totally outline and plan out things… but only as I also I jump around, writing thirteen separate chapters at very different points along in the same WIP.

Somehow, my method works. I have a finished manuscript in my hands. I’ll have to figure out how I want to publish it after my last round of editing — hopefully it’ll be done by summer.

I’m a real sucker for wlw, lively worldbuilding, and found family (but who isn’t?)

I take good LGBTQ+ rep pretty seriously, because I really wish I’d seen us as normal growing up.

Because I trained myself to hold pencils in a really weird and painful way, I hated writing up until I discovered the joys of computer keyboards in eighth grade. You can take my laptop from my cold, dead hands.

I can and have written poetry, literary short story, plays, and literary nonfiction. I’m much better at flash horror and genre fiction (YA to Adult, fantasy & sci-fi, often with cosmic horror bents).

My college is aaall about that literary nonfic life. I’m… not. But it means I learn a lot of things that most genre fictionists don’t.

I can use InDesign! To some extent! Very proud of this!

I’ve gotten one psychological short story (Park Road) and one poem (Kintsugi) published in two separate college magazines. I’m also proud of a poetry collection, a very short play in the style of Sarah Kane, and a 29-page mlm romance I had to put together for other classes of mine. I might edit them up and share them sometime.

If I can’t sustain myself off of my writing out of college (which is very likely) then my plan is to work at a nearby pet store until I can.

My WIPs:

Shadow Herald — My pride and joy, my finished manuscript. In pithy terms, it is about a very reluctant antichrist, the wonderfully pugnacious near-folk-hero she accidentally recruits as a bodyguard (and eventually, girlfriend), and the small thief they adopt when they even more accidentally wind up in prison for a bit. Also involves fantasy politics and an awful lot of squabbling between slighted gods. If you like found family, a meaty long-term plot, and wholesome lesbians, it might tickle your interest.

Shadow War — Shadow Herald’s sequel. The name’s still up in the air, but I’m pretty excited about how the plot’s coming together. There’s going to be two more books in this series after it.

Mind Hive — Dystopian fiction with an NB protagonist just doin’ their best in the world they’ve been given. Includes telepathy, polyamory, one very precious AI, and fucked up capitalist system that is not going to get fixed with a spunky teenage revolution.

She Sells Seashells — a NA lesbian romance between a mermaid running on selkie rules, and a lifeguard who accidentally picks up the jacket that enables her to transform between mer-and-maid forms. Expect fluff and a bit of steam.

Coliseum — An adventure story about two folks (a dryad and a guy with amnesia who’s secretly a very important book) trying to survive a giant deathmaze that an amoral sorcerer king put together because he was super bored. This one’s not super fleshed out yet.

And that’s it!

#writer speaks #writeblr introduction #writeblr info #writeblr intro #writers on tumblr #writeblr community #fantasy writing #lgbtq writing #writeblrlifeweek #writeblr life week #writeblr #writeblr event

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asgardian--angels · 4 years

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Hi again! So, you've probably heard about it by now, but I saw an article about the possibility of Asian giant hornets having migrated over to the U.S. I clearly have no knowledge on the subject beyond what I read in the article (and that's hardly any basis to form an opinion on lol) and I know that this kind of falls under your realm of expertise, so I was wondering if you might have anymore information to offer and possibly alleviate some anxieties??

Hi there! Yes, it seems it’s been bombarding everyone’s news feeds the past few days. I was actually just asked to talk about it on the radio today. I’ll preface this with the fact that I am not super familiar with the biology of this particular species, though I had heard of it before all of this and it’s heckin cool.

Is this wasp a problem? Potentially, yes. Should we call it a ‘murder hornet’ and use it as fodder for wasp hate everywhere? Absolutely not. If the Asian Giant Hornet is a problem, it’s because it could be invasive, not because it’s a wasp. Let’s break that down.

In its home range, this massive wasp specializes on hunting honeybees. Honeybees in Japan are not our honeybees, they’re an entirely different species, Apis cerana japonica (as opposed to western honeybees, Apis mellifera). Japanese honeybees evolved alongside this species, and they are together part of an ecosystem - giant hornets like this don’t just pop up like Godzilla ready to demolish society, they look and act the way they do because of millions of years of evolution alongside predators and prey and their environment. Their arms race is with the Japanese honeybee, which can tolerate temperatures in excess of 115 degrees Fahrenheit, and they will swarm the infiltrating wasp and cook it alive. This is a unique, special adaptation that came about because these two have been duking it out forever. So that’s step 1. This wasp is not some monstrous thing born of Cthulhu. It has an ecological place. Honeybees over there are perfectly used to it, just another day for them (there’s actually two other giant hornet species that attack hives sporadically as well over there). We just think it looks terrifying because it’s different than what we’re used to, and it amplifies our already-present fears of wasp-shaped creatures.

Step 2.1 The reasons why it could pose a problem in the U.S. Firstly, its sting is dangerous; obviously, its sting is very large and can deliver a lot of venom, and if you’ve seen the Coyote Peterson video on it, it causes long-lasting swelling and pain. One or even a few stings will not severely harm you, but seven, eight, a dozen, could potentially send you to the E.R. with severe inflammation and even renal failure. You’re more at risk from complications from fewer stings if you have pre-existing inflammation or breathing problems, and if you get stung someplace like your neck or face. Most victims, even those who are hospitalized, do make a full recovery. That being said, like any other social wasp we have, you’re only likely to get stung if you accidentally stumble upon a nest and can’t book it out of there fast enough. I cannot vouch for the natural aggressiveness of this species, but given its size, life history, and similarities to related species, I would say that it will probably have a fairly proactive response to disturbance, aka, yes, it absolutely does pose a health risk to humans and this is a valid reason to be concerned.

Step 2.2 The other reason people are worried. This wasp targets honeybees, which most people know are extremely important for our agricultural system. It can decimate whole hives of western honeybees, as they have not evolved the defenses necessary to fend them off. However, I’ve heard things like ‘they’re going to contribute to bee declines!’ and that is simply not the case. Honeybees are not native - they are not an essential part of our ecosystem, only our agricultural one. It will be an economic loss if we start losing honeybee colonies, but honeybees are not the bees that we should be concerned about here in North America. It’s our native bees that are declining at startling rates. These hornets will not attack our native bees, because they don’t build hives! Only a very small percentage of our >3,500 species of native bee live in colonies, and they’re almost all underground and with a tiny fraction of the number of workers that a honeybee colony has (instead of tens of thousands, think, a couple dozen). The rest are totally solitary. Not what this wasp is looking for; it has a search image, it knows how to seek out honeybee colonies and I highly doubt it would recognize bumblebees or sweat bees as prey. The reason why this hornet has the potential to do so much damage in the first place is a classic problem with monocultures; grow (or in this case, raise) too much of one thing in one place, and when a disease or pest comes by, it can easily sweep through the population with high mortality. It’s been recognized for a while now that we rely far too heavily on honeybees for our pollination; concerns over Colony Collapse Disorder sparked these discussions. This whole time, we should have been providing for wild, native bees, by giving them the habitat they need to live alongside us and pollinate our crops. Instead, we’ve pushed them out with monocultures, pesticides, and development, then decided to bring in a non-native species to replace them. This is a setup for disaster. The presence of this new threat should be a wakeup call to change our ways.

Step 3. Do not judge all wasps by this one species. ‘Murder hornet’ is not a term that allows us to discuss this animal objectively. The VAST majority of native wasps are small, stingless species which most of us never notice, yet they perform invaluable ecological services as parasitoids. Our stinging species are still mostly solitary and non-aggressive, and are pollinators and predators on common garden pests. And you know what? Yellowjackets, bald-faced hornets (not a true hornet, actually), paper wasps, the ones people don’t like? They’re beneficial too, for the same reasons as above. They are a crucial part of our ecosystem, and are aggressive only if we threaten their colonies, which contain their young. This introduced species posing risks to us does NOT give us the right to condemn our native species to fear and hatred. Wasps already have a bad rap. Don’t make this fuel for the fire. If this wasp is dangerous, it’s not because it’s a wasp. It’s because it’s an invasive species that lacks the checks and balances of its natural habitat. Invasive species can be plants, fungi, or animals, and just because this one is a wasp doesn’t mean you get to lump all other wasps in with it.

Lastly, I’m already seeing people all over the country start to claim they are seeing this wasp. You are not. Unless you live in Washington, at this time, you’re seeing something else. Let me show you a few, in case you are mistaken:

European Hornet - Vespa crabro. (Photo) Non-native, but established in the eastern U.S. Largest wasp most people have ever seen, but still half the size of the queen Asian giant hornet. Acts like other yellowjackets and such, no serious ecological threat.

Eastern Cicada Killer - Sphecius speciosus (photo). Native, found east of the Rockies. Specializes on hunting cicadas. A large, solitary wasp, but not aggressive. Lives in burrows in the ground. About the size of the European hornet. They like sandy areas, so you might see them in fields or playgrounds.

Paper wasps - Polistes spp. (photo). Native, common across the country, some species have yellow markings, others are brown or reddish. Social wasps, they build paper nests under awnings near human habitation, can be somewhat aggressive if you get too close to the nest but otherwise are approachable when foraging on flowers. Smaller, usually 3/4 inch or so.

Potter and mason wasps - Eumeninae spp. (photo). We have hundreds of species of potter wasp, and in the southern U.S. many of them have red and yellow markings. This particular one is Euodynerus pratensis from Texas. These are solitary wasps, and are not very large, usually not exceeding 1/2 an inch, maybe the largest are 3/4in. They make mud nests, sometimes near human habitation, but they are docile and rarely cause conflict.

Great Golden Digger Wasp - Sphex ichneumoneus (photo). Common across the U.S., a large native solitary wasp common on flowers. Not really the same body structure as a vespid but just in case... these guys scare some people because they are large and gangly but they hunt grasshoppers and katydids and are generally non-intrusive. They live in underground burrows, not near humans. They’re good pollinators too!

I hope that alleviates some fear that comes with people starting to claim they’re seeing this wasp where it isn’t. It’s just another case of boy cries brown recluse spider. Most people are so unfamiliar with our native insect fauna that once they start noticing wasps, everything looks like the culprit just because they weren’t paying attention to what’s always been around them.

It sounds like they don’t know the extent of establishment yet, or when/how the AGH was introduced. Chances are, if people are starting to find them, then it’s already got a population. However, if early response methods can effectively control their spread, there’s a chance we can eliminate them. We have hundreds of invasive species here in the U.S. that are wreaking havoc on our ecosystems because we missed the short window in which to eradicate them. We do not know the total impact this hornet could have, until we thoroughly read the literature on its ecology back in Asia. It does pose a significant economic risk though, and a human health risk if they end up dwelling near human habitation (which they shouldn’t, I would think, unless you’ve got honeybee hives or feral colonies around). What we’re seeing is two non-natives battling it out - two species that should not be in North America at all. I do hope that we are able to stop this invasion in its tracks, but I also really hope it makes us reconsider the flaws in our agricultural system.

#thehermitreversed #asian giant hornet #wasps #insects #mine #i hope this helps a little?#i cannot deny that getting stung by this bamf can be deadly under certain circumstances #anyone else in this field who knows more about this situation please feel free to chime in!

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onstarsandiron · 4 years

Photo

The timeline, as near as I could assemble it, with a little conjecture by me. I centered it around Coronation Day, aka the Holy Convergence, aka the 1,000th anniversary of the Iron Kingdom, so anything before that is BCD, anything after that is ACD. Details under the cut.

1,000 BCD:

Solani Ark crashes into what will become Zenteli, pursued by The Great Dark

Goddess bears a daughter of light that fights back The Great Dark

Goddess creates the Iron Kingdom, and from her heart the Iron Crown is carved; Ironbloods claim they can trace their lineage back to her court

The Goddess dies and is buried in her tomb with The Great Dark’s heart

The Cantos is written and the first shrine of the Moon Goddess is erected on Luna

25-20 BCD

The Plague -- The Plague is always stated as being “Twenty years ago” but plagues take time to first become plagues and then cause problems and then be eradicated. With the complication of having to develop and manufacture Metals before they could treat the plague well, I’ve given it a cautious life-time of five years, with it having officially ended twenty years from Coronation Day

In the scene with Nich, Mercer, Di, Selena, and Mari are at the Tomb of the Goddess, Mercer says he can’t call Cynthia because the Tomb has been off limits since the plague started, meaning that they were still going to the Academy during the plague. I propose that Mercer, Di, Nich, and Mari were all the equivalent of seniors and this was their last year, as it would be reasonable for Di to go off to try and help the plague after he’d finished at the Academy. That puts all of them around 16/17, since that’s the age Robb was when he was supposed to graduate.

Once Di contracts the plague, Malifare takes advantage of his and his father’s desperation and becomes one of the first Metals, and, if the reports Ana found in the lab were correct, the first fully successful Metal, aside from previous-life memories.

I also propose that it is sometime during this that Mari’s mother is murdered -- Erik mentions, when Robb dons the Aragon crest, that, “The old dame was murdered and her daughter went missing.” (SoS, V: Stardust, Robb) -- and Captain Siege is born. This would coincide with much of the Aragon family suffering and dying from the plague; the Aragon family is noted as magnanimous, and they may have opened themselves to risk in an attempt to support the poor, though that’s just my personal headcannon. Di also asks Malifare, when they first met, if she’s there because of Mari, which may have something to do with it, but what, I do not know.

18 BCD

Jax is born

17 BCD

Ana is born and lauded as the goddess born anew

Robb is born -- his 17th birthday was the day Jax got de-lit (:

10 BCD

Jax runs away from Zenteli

10-8 BCD

Somewhere in here Siege and Talle adopt hire Jax after he pick-pockets Siege in Nevaeh

7 BCD

The Revolution

Rasovant asks Nicholii to approve HIVEing Metals; when Nicholii denies him he, in a fit of rage, kills him.

Mercer finds Nicholii’s body and calls for guards

Malifare burns down the North Tower with the whole Royal Family inside

Mercer gives Ana to D09 -- Nicholii’s personal metal, according to Machivalle -- and Ana receives burns from his heated chassis. They escape in the Tsarina

Mercer sends out one message to his wife, informing her of what had happened and of the location of the heart. Cynthia would later go and take it from the tomb, storing it instead in the hands of the Goddess statue in Nevaeh

The Tsarina is infested with the HIVE too, though, with weird memory core-less Metals. Mercer manages to get the ship all the way to Palavar -- I propose he does this to disable the ship full of dangerous robots for the greater good -- getting shot in the process. As his last act, he gives Ana his family’s symbol and sends her and Di off in an escape pod

An undisclosed time later -- it could have been weeks depending on how well-stocked the escape pod was -- Siege finds the 10-year-old and Di floating in dead space between Cerces and Iliad; Di tells her who they are and then asks that his memory be erased -- Mercer’s instructions. Siege does erase Di’s memories, this being the cause of Di’s later glitches, but she doesn’t drop them at a weigh-station like Di asked, hoping that she could be able to keep Ana safe

7 Years - 7 Days BCD

Ana, Jax, and Di have life-threatening Shenanigans aboard the Dossier; everything after this is just a summary of the books

7-6 Days BCD

Di and Ana in the shrine -- job goes south

They follow Robb up to Astoria, that goes south and Robb gets shot and half-kidnapped

2-hours towards Palavar Robb’s chip is activated

Palavar happens, killing Bergar and disabling Di; The Kiss happens and Jax knows how Robb will die; Robb finds what will become Di’s new body

~2-4 hours after Palavar, while Robb is in the middle of experimentally trying to upload Di, the Dossier is so very politely hailed via missile by the Catarina

Cynthia kills Wick, Ana and Jax are taken onto the Caterina, Robb feels really, really bad about it all

Di wakes up and he and the captain free the Dossier

Once at the Iron Palace, Robb reveals Ana as the princess

5-2 days BCD

Jax is Cynthia’s prisoner, Robb promises on Stars and Iron to save him

Ana has to get lessons, and hates every second of it. Tries to get information out of everyone but only has some luck with Machivalle

The Dossier works on their own plan

1 Day BCD

Pre-coronation gala!

Robb and Ana make their appearance; Robb soon leaves to go get Jax -- not that he has a way out of the palace, mind you

Ana meets Wynn and gets an important note from Machivalle; Ana and Di dance; Ana runs off when she realizes Di is “Rasovant’s Metal”

Di runs off, finds Rasovant’s office, steals his own old guard uniform, starts having memories that are not D09′s

Robb bumps into Di in the Hallway, E0S brings trouble around and they split up, agreeing to meet in like 3 1/2 hours at the docks

Jax reads Cynthia’s stars in exchange for Cynthia promising on Stars and Iron to protect Robb -- this changes Robb’s stars

Ana is lured into the North Tower to be killed, finds Rasovant’s secret office and the truth behind Metals and the HIVE, Di comes and saves her

Robb rescues Jax, puts a vox collar on his brother

Ana and Di make out before Ana sends Di on his way so he can be safe

Malifare captures Di, he is not safe; Di gives instructions to E0S

Robb sends Jax off, decries the Valerio name

Di realizes he’s Dmitri, is promptly HIVEd

Coronation Day

Bad things happen. The following people die: Lady Valerio, Rasovant (Ana did that one), Riggs, the Grand Duchess, a couple other Ironblood guests, all human guards. Viera might also have died here, or she might have been kept alive long enough to be turned into a Metal later; I’m unclear on the Metaling process. Di stabs Ana. Robb loses and arm.

0-6 months ACD

Shrines are burned as Malifare searches for her heart

Siege and her fleet set up refugee camps for Metals

Ana recovers from her near-fatal wound

Robb and Jax are dating

5 Months ACD

Robb gets his robo arm

6 Months ACD

Ana meets Elara and Xu in Neon City

Ana is captured

Elara, Xu, Jax, and Robb go to save Ana; Jax and Robb split up and Jax recognizes the dreadnaught from Robb’s stars and knows he will die here

Ana is saved by E0S, runs into “Viera”, then Robb

E0S’s instructions from Di activate, and he leaves Ana to go to the bridge where Jax is

Jax and Di -- as a Messier -- fight; E0S/Di changes Jax’s stars and injects some code into Di

As Jax gets spaced Di instinctively tries to save him and accidentally touches bare skin, forcing Jax to read the stars of everyone consumed by The Great Dark, which drains his light in an instant

Ana and Robb get Jax to the Dossier and put him on life support

Siege sets course to Zenteli so Jax can die there

Very warm reception at Zenteli. Truly hospitable. Jax’s mom slaps Siege

Viera goes off and burns the Zenteli shrine

Jax has his star-induced vision of Di and Malifare in the plague ward

Elara takes Ana and Robb down to the ark where they meet Koren Vey, who gives them the coordinates to the Goddess’ Tomb as well as saying some cryptic stuff

Di is experiencing “glitches” from what E0S gave him, reveals himself to Erik, accidentally so to Wynn

Siege gets Jax and she and Talle come to rescue Ana, Robb, and Elara

Jax accepts Koren Vey’s light, collapses into Robb’s arms; he glows now.

Siege, Talle, Robb, and Jax are taken back to the spire by the solgard while Ana and Elara evade them

Ana and Elara split, Ana to go to the Goddess’ Tomb and Elara to fetch Jax and the others

Lenda sends Ana off, she also bumps into Viera, through whom the HIVE now knows where Ana’s going

Elara fetches Jax, Jax’s mom helps him break everyone out

Robb and Elara break off to go after “Resonance”, the Dossier goes after Ana to the tomb

Ana arrives at the tomb, is followed by Di and Malifare. In the tomb she finds that the heart isn’t there, then blows them all up. Di finally breaks free of the HIVE.

The Dossier lands and takes Ana and Di; Malifare is nowhere to be seen

Robb and Elara arrive at the Valerio estate and he fights Erik over the Resonance file, which reveals that Cynthia funded all of Rasovant’s research and herself found the heart first, as well as the heart’s current hiding place

The meeting at Havens Grave happens

Ana and Di get to talk

Robb tells Jax he loves him and they make out

A plan of action is solidified

Robb and Di crash Erik’s party

Ana, Siege, and Talle go after the heart, Ana going into the shrine and Siege and Talle keeping watch

Malifare plunges Astoria out of the sky and takes off with Viera, now revealed as a Metal

Di saves Astoria, gets stabbed in the back by Erik for his troubles

Erik, unrelatedly and against the genuine attempt to save him by Robb, dies

Jax takes Robb and Di to the shrine

Ana gets the heart

Final battle: Ana and Di vs Malifare in the shrine; Dossier vs Messiers in the plaza

Siege finally takes Malifare out and Di destroys the HIVE

6 Months and Like 2-4 Week ACD

Ana is installed as Empress, introduces a wide range of new voices to the Iron Counsel

Jax accepts his role as C’zar, enjoys being a thorn in the Counsel of Elder’s side

Siege and Talle head off to hide the heart

Di says goodbye to Ana

Ana makes her speech at Erik’s funeral, runs off quickly after

Di doesn’t actually go and he and Ana kiss and everything is super sweet and nice, The End

#hoi #heart of iron #sos #soul of stars #timeline #reference #spoilers #this is the last major reference piece i wanted to make #let me know if theres any corrections or additions i should make #some of this is conjecture #but educated conjecture #theories

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thefreckledone · 5 years

Text

Satori (Between the Lines) - Part 13

Sakura furrows her brow, watching Mizuki-sensei intently as he holds up a large leaf. She’s poised to take notes as needed, ignoring the scoffs that come from some of the less academically inclined students. To be fair, few of her classmates match Sakura’s passion for academics. Just because they will not be tested on the theory behind this technique does not mean it is unimportant.

“Over the next few days we will begin to access your chakra,” Mizuki says. “Now, we are just accessing chakra at this point; we will not even contemplate channeling it until next month.” His smile firms into a scowl as he stares them all down, trying to impress upon them the importance of these rules. Even though some of the clan children have received training in chakra manipulation, they were always under vigilant supervision from their parents. Mizuki alone could not supervise thirty children attempting to wield their chakra. His frown fades to a smile as they all nod. “I thought we could end today with a small demonstration of what we’ll be working on for the next month. When we start manipulating chakra, your first task will be to push your chakra into a leaf.”

Mizuki makes an exaggerated flourish to the leaf in his hand. A couple of the children giggle and his smile widens. “Now, what you will be doing is burning away the center of the leaf with pure chakra and keeping that chakra there, not allowing it to spread elsewhere.” Mizuki draws on his chakra, enacting his words.

There is a smattering of gasps and clapping, mainly from civilian-born children. The clan children are jaded to such simple feats of chakra, but there is awe in the faces of the civilian children. Mizuki feels a slight pang of nostalgia, remembering his own joy when he was introduced to chakra. Where has that magic gone for him?

He shakes himself of these errant thoughts, looking over his students. “Can anyone tell me why we complete this task? What does it help build?”

Most of the students shuffle a bit, breaking off eye contact in hopes of not being called on. Sakura, an exemplary student as always, meets his gaze and smiles eagerly. Mizuki doesn’t fight the urge to return the smile, nodding at her. “Sakura?”

“These exercises will help build our chakra control,” Sakura says. “Developing chakra control will help us when it comes to putting chakra into the jutsus we do. It’ll also help keep us from injuring our chakra coils as we practice.”

“Exactly right, Sakura,” Mizuki replies. “Chakra control is foundational to every ninjutsu you will perform if you become shinobi. An individual with smaller chakra reserves may very well beat someone with greater reserves because they have better chakra control. Your ability to control your chakra and employ it to your will may be the deciding factor in the survival of you and your unit.” He pauses, voice gentling. “I’m not trying to scare you; I only wish to impress upon you the importance of these sometimes tedious exercises. They’re needed to perform the awesome ninjutsus you see shinobi perform. And that’ll be it for today! Uzuki-san will start proctoring the afternoon spars in fifteen minutes.”

Most of the students scramble to their feet and scamper outside, but Sakura lingers. Mizuki greets her kindly, well-used to Sakura staying after lessons to ask questions. Once, he believed she stayed afterwards out of a reluctance to attend to the more physical side of Academy training. He has seen her vast improvement in that area over the past few months and yet still she stays, excited to speak with him one-on-one.

Mizuki truly doesn’t mind it. All of the Academy instructors play favorites. It’s a behavior that isn’t frowned upon; after all, the entire infrastructure of Konoha’s shinobi world relies upon it. What else but nepotism would have the succession of Hokage determined based on familial or mentorship bond? So Suzume dotes upon the Hyuga students who come through, Daikoku sings the praises of the Uchiha, Iruka shows a soft spot for the Uzumaki brat, and Mizuki?

Well, Mizuki is civilian-born and civilian-bred; he doesn’t care to kowtow to any of the clan children that he teaches. The clans have done nothing for him but prevent him from rising among the shinobi ranks. His refusal to attach himself to any of the clans has garnered him no favors.

So Mizuki’s favorite student is Sakura. Her intelligence, her curiosity, and her dedication seem a reflection to him of the boy he once was. And Mizuki would prefer to keep her spirit from being crushed by the system if at all possible. Loathe as he is admit it, her friendship with Shino is wise, even though he doubts there is any calculation to it. Of all of the clans, the Aburame clan is the most decent, though that is not saying much.

“May I help you, Sakura?” he asks.

“Maybe,” Sakura replies, fingers fidgeting but back straight. Her parents have taught her well in regards to her posture. “During my field experience assignment I received a bit of chakra control training. I was wondering if there are any books I could read on additional techniques. I checked the library, but all of the books for chakra manipulation are restricted access to genin and above only.”

Mizuki rubs his chin, pondering her question. “I’m afraid the Academy doesn’t have any reading material available to your age group, Sakura-chan. There is a fear regarding damaged chakra coils. Have you asked Shino? He may be able to lend you a book from the Aburame clan’s library.”

Sakura’s nose crinkles. “We looked through the available books at his house; everything related to chakra control is specific to hive hosts. Ino offered too, but the chakra control in her family scrolls concerns uses related to the mind.” Sakura’s face falls a bit. “I can’t do any of those exercises.”

I’m not a clan child, lingers unspoken but understood between them.

Again, Mizuki marvels at the discrepancies between civilian and clan children. The Academy, in theory, should put all of the students on equal playing ground by the time they graduate. The students should become rounded, prepared individuals, ready to be genin. And yet everything is set up to the clan children’s advantage, from the spars where they can practice their family techniques to the focused attentions given by Academy teachers. The basic repertoire of ninjutsus and fundamental skills learned at the Academy are nice, but the implicit understanding is that the knowledge gained from the Academy is not enough. Clan children receive ample supplemental training at home, both in secret techniques, clan-specific jutsus, and practical knowledge passed on by family members. Civilian-raised children?

Well, they earn the privilege of acting as fodder on missions. Or, if they manage to scrape by, they can make it to the illustrious rank of chunin.

“I’m not allowed to pass any of the books on to you,” Mizuki says, words coating his tongue bitterly. “However, we can get some practice in over these next few months, depending on how you progress.”

It is a paltry platitude, nowhere near what he would like to offer her, but Sakura stares up at him as if he offered her the world.

“Thank you Mizuki-sensei!” Sakura says, throwing herself at his legs in a hug before darting away.

Mizuki watches her go, smile slowly falling away. One day, sooner more likely than later, Konoha will snuff out the bright spark that makes Sakura Sakura. And Mizuki knows there is little he can do to prevent it.

Ibiki pens out a summary to his most recent interrogation session, a scowl stretching his scars. The Kumo nin was recalcitrant and unruly, unsurprising truthfully, but something about him stuck with Ibiki. Maybe it was his soft spoken tone, gentle, but firm in his convictions even as Ibiki systematically tries to break him to pieces. Maybe it’s the fact that his eyes were the same shade of brown as Idate’s. Hell, maybe it’s the fact that Ibiki is running on two hours of sleep for the past thirty-seven hours.

Still, something about this prisoner clings to him, refusing to let go.

Ibiki startles at the rasp of paper in the corner of his office and he looks up, suddenly remembering Sakura’s presence. Her attention is focused on the large book she’s holding, something about agriculture in the Land of Tea or some other drivel. He’s never seen anyone as voracious a reader as Sakura is; Ibiki thinks that she would be happy to read about grass growing.

Hell, that’s probably what she’s reading about right now.

Only Sakura.

Ibiki scrubs a hand over his jaw, the bristles of his unshaven face prickling against his hand. The tightness of his scowl eases as he watches her, utterly absorbed in her reading. Such single-minded focus won’t serve her well in the field, where she’ll have to maintain multiple domains of attention, but, for now, it’s alright. Something in his chest warms as he realizes the absolute trust Sakura has in him, to so willingly relax in his presence like this.

If someone had told him a year ago that an Academy student would feel so comfortable around him, he would’ve laughed in their face before dragging them before one of the Yamanaka to assess if they were a plant. After all, no one felt comfortable around him; in what world would an Academy student?

And yet, despite all of the odds, Haruno Sakura has wormed her way into his life. He knows that she was intimidated when they first met, his loud, abrasive nature making her uneasy. But she shed those fears quickly, offering him simple kindnesses that fell by the wayside long ago for him. When was the last time someone gave him a guileless smile? Brought him a homemade lunch? He thinks it was sometime before Idate disappeared, before Ibiki made chūnin and was slated for the role of commanding officer of T&I.

Ibiki stares down unseeingly at his hands.

It’s been a long time since he’s felt human.

Sometimes, it feels like the blood will never be washed clean.

He scrutinizes his hands intensely, hearing for a moment the screams of the Kumo nin in his mind. His hands are spotless; he wore his thick gloves during the session and fastidiously cleaned up thereafter.

Still, it doesn’t prevent the creeping, crawling sensation of iron coating and flaking off his skin.

Ibiki shakes his head roughly, scrambling that train of thought.

He doesn’t have a clue as to why Sakura likes him or why she chooses to stick around. He knows he isn’t good company; his social life is nonexistent outside of interactions with some of the more unstable members of the Intelligence Division. But he’ll do what he can to encourage her to stay. He knows that he’s unworthy of her kindness and friendship, but he’ll accept whatever scraps she offers. Ibiki may be forever bloodstained, but he doesn’t mind.

He’ll be better able to protect Sakura that way.

Less morals to hinder him, after all.

“What are you nerds doing in here?” Anko asks, popping in unannounced as is her wont.

Sakura nearly jumps clear out of her skin, but Ibiki merely sighs, shaking his head. “We’re working, Anko. A task you are entirely unfamiliar with.”

Anko’s eyes take on a manic gleam as she sizes him up, but Ibiki just watches her in turn. He’s just as unhinged and dangerous as she is, only in a different way. Anko smirks, mania easing in her eyes, as if she knows his thoughts.

“The work I do is much more fun, old man,” Anko taunts.

“I’m three years older,” Ibiki says.

“And a helluva a lot uglier,” Anko snipes back.

Ibiki snorts, choosing not to rise to her verbal jabs. Anko’s attention shifts beyond him to Sakura, who sits quietly with her book closed in her lap.

“How are you doing, kid?” she asks, smirk softening into almost verging on a smile.

“I’m well,” Sakura replies. “And you, Anko-san?”

“Doing fine,” Anko says, flapping a hand to dismiss Sakura’s concern.

“Oh!” Sakura perks up, rustling through her bag. She pulls out a small, wrapped package. “I have something for you, Anko-san.”

“You do?” Anko asks, true surprise flitting across her features before her expression settles to apathy.

Sakura jumps to her feet and rushes toward Anko, offering the package to her. Anko takes it and opens it with deft, eager fingers. “Dango?” Anko asks, pulling out one of the sweets.

Sakura nods enthusiastically. “Sarasa-san bought me some from a nearby vendor for helping her out with some of the detailing on this leather bag commission she was working on. She needed my help because I have tinier fingers for the fine details.” Sakura raises her hands, wiggling said fingers. “And the vendor gave me a lot so I thought you might like some too!”

Ibiki notices the way Anko’s lips start to curl into a secret smile before she firms them, keeping her expression neutral. Still, her hands betray her as she gently, reverently, takes a stick of dango and presses it to her lips. “So you help in a leather shop?”

Sakura lights up and begins to speak about the various projects she’s assisted on in the merchant district. Most of the jargon flies over Ibiki’s head, but he enjoys the clear enthusiasm Sakura has for the topic, her eyes sparkling and hands gesticulating wildly.

Anko’s eyes cut to him and she tilts her head slightly, eyes narrowing.

He nods in turn.

No matter their differences, no matter Anko’s general dislike of him, they are united in this.

Sakura is an important person to both of them.

And Ibiki thinks there is very little they would not do for her sake.

Sakura curls her toes in the grass, luxuriating in the heat of the ground beneath her and the sun above. It has been a long day and her body aches with the satisfaction of the all-out spars she participated in, leaving her exhausted. Her eyes slip shut as she enjoys the simple pleasure of relaxing.

Truthfully, she is a bit frustrated. Though Sakura knows that she made the right move in withdrawing from apprenticeship with Shikaku, her progress in learning ciphers has slowed. If she were honest with herself, her learning has outright stalled. She does not regret her decision to cut ties with Shikaku, but she hadn’t realized the true dirth in cipher knowledge. No one else has that knowledge or, if they do, they do not care to share it with an Academy student.

Sakura purses her lips, pulling up a bit of grass. She’s gotten complacent, used to being handed the knowledge as she asks for it. Not too long ago she was finding work arounds to get basic shinobi knowledge before she entered the Academy. She just needs to get creative again.

Grass falls on her face and Sakura startles upright, sneezing. Eyes smarting, she meets Celadine’s passive gaze.

“Are you well?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” Sakura says, rubbing at her nose. “What are you doing here?”

“Watching you,” he replies.

“Right,” Sakura huffs, shaking her head. “Your superior didn’t pull you off detail when the news got around?”

Celandine cocks his head.

Sakura flings herself back down onto her back, staring up at the sky. “I’m no longer the apprentice of Nara Shikaku.”

Celandine remains silent for a long moment and Sakura turns her attention to him. “It matters not. You are still interesting.”

“To you or to your superior?”

“Both,” Celandine says.

“Huh,” Sakura mutters.

She doesn’t think that she should enjoy his company as much as she does. He’s undoubtedly odd, his mannerisms flat and restrained. He holds himself a lot like some of the high-level shinobi that she catches glimpses of sometimes; though she’s never seen one as young as Celandine. Sakura knows that all of her friends-Torune especially-would be against her continued association with him if they knew.

But they don’t know.

Sakura pats the ground beside her. Celandine just stares at her and she clears her throat, offering him a tentative smile. “Sit down with me if you like.”

Celandine takes the seat with a sublime sense of grace that Sakura doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to accomplish, no matter her years of training. She takes a moment to feel envious before refocusing.

“I’ve been meaning to ask; are you allowed to speak with me? It doesn’t exactly seem like the best idea as your target.”

Celandine’s eyes slant away from her, a strange lilt to his lips. “I received no orders regarding not speaking to you.”

Sakura cannot keep herself from laughing at that, rolling onto her side as she does so. Celandine watches her quietly, his chest feeling light. They spend several long moments like this until Sakura manages to calm herself.

“I see you enjoy bending the rules to fit your needs,” Sakura says. “I can understand that.”

“Your clothing is green,” Celandine says blandly.

Sakura looks down at herself, groaning at the sight of grass stains across the bright yellow fabric of her shirt. “Otou-sama won’t be pleased,” Sakura says as she gingerly pats the stains. “Looks like otou-sama and I will be doing the washing early this week.”

“Your father washes the clothes? Why not hire someone else for that task?” Celandine asks.

“Otou-sama likes to do it himself when he’s in the village; he says it’s relaxing,” Sakura replies. “I like helping him. We go down to the river to wash and usually eat our lunches afterwards.”

“Aren’t there more important things that both of you need to do?”

It’s a question that Mebuki asks Kizashi often as well. So, Sakura draws on her father’s steadfast reply, “What’s more important than spending time with family?”

Celandine falls silent and, from the slight furrow of his brow, Sakura can tell he’s pondering something. She plucks out several pieces of grass, eying them for quality. She chooses the greenest and plumpest among them, cupping it between her hands and pressing her thumbs up against her mouth. Glancing askance at Celandine, she grins when she realizes that he is still contemplating something.

Sakura blows hard into her hands and ensuing sound tramples the quiet between them. She notices with glee the way that Celandine jumps, turning a doleful look on her.

“What are you doing?” Celandine asks.

“Playing a grass whistle,” Sakura says, grin widening. “Well, more like a grass trumpet.”

“How do you do it?” he asks, peering down at her hands with interest.

Sakura’s grin softens at the spark of interest in her eyes and she opens her hands, placing the blade of grass into his. “Here,” she says, cupping his hands around it. “Let me show you.”

#my fic #satori (between the lines)#sakura haruno #mizuki #anko mitarashi #ibiki morino #sai #celandine #sakura has a wide variety of allies #not that she necessarily knows it

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davidfarland · 5 years

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Read until the end for updates on upcoming writing courses and a special preview of my Serpent Catch series Book 1.

***

I often say that “Writing is easy, but writing beautifully is hard.” At least for me, I can sit down and put words on paper quickly and enjoy myself, but when I’m really working at telling a story on multiple levels, when I’m writing something that I know will be read by millions of people, when I’m struggling to be original and break out of cliché actions and wording, then the writing gets hard.

Yesterday I was working on a screenplay. Now, I haven’t written a lot of screenplays, but when you’re working on a project that you know could have millions of viewers and you’re struggling to launch a new film series, it really can slow you down. If you have that problem, here are some ways to speed up your writing.

Learn the basics of your medium. A person who is unsure how to use quotation marks or doesn’t know screenplay format will be more hesitant. Words and punctuation are the tools of your trade, so you need to learn how to use them.

Know where the story is going. If you understand who your characters are and what incidents are going to happen—in other words, if you’re prepared—the story itself seems to create its own energy and will hurry you along.

Make writing a habit. As Ralph Waldo Emerson put it, “That which we persist in doing becomes easier, not that the nature of the task has changed, but our ability to do has increased.” As you write on a daily basis, your brain forms new neural connections that let you craft your work more quickly, almost automatically, while your subconscious begins to focus on the task even in your sleep, so that when you sit down to write, you’re ready to write.

Focus on the work, not the distractions. Find the writing conditions that work best for you. For example, I have a favorite writing chair, a favorite laptop, and even a couple of spots in the house that work best for me. I know what kind of drink I want next to my writing chair, and I know which background music will distract me and which might energize me.

Eliminate fears. Don’t set your heart on winning awards and don’t worry about what critics will say. Many critics seem to speak out of jealousy. Extremely popular writers tend to get savaged. I recall when Stephen King got his first big deal and I heard some horror writers talking about how he was undeserving and “couldn’t write his way out of a paper bag.” So I read his work and felt surprised when I found him to be excellent. I heard the same criticisms against J.K. Rowling, John Grisham, Stephanie Meyer, and others. My message to young writers who criticize others for having the same kind of success that they wish to enjoy: Get your stupid butt in gear!

Remember that your first draft is just that, a first draft. Give yourself permission to get it done quickly. You can worry about perfecting your prose in the rewrites. Don’t compare your first draft to others’ finished drafts.

Stay in focus. Give yourself reasonably long blocks of time to write. Some people write at lightning speed, but most people find that it takes a bit of time to get warmed up.

Keep it fun. Stressing out just slows you down.

***

Sign ups for my online classes, the Advanced Story Puzzle and Writing Enchanting Prose, are now available at MyStoryDoctor.com. Both classes are $449 each and include weekly conference calls and I will also be giving feedback on your writing. Classes start August 24th which is also the last day to register. Each course will run for 10 weeks.

I recently spoke on the Legendarium Podcast, and discussed "Enders Game,". If you are curious about it, you can listen to the podcast here.

The Serpent Catch Book 1 will be available for $.99 on Amazon Kindle for the next 3 days only. You can read chapter 1 here as a special sneak peak into the series. If you are interested in reading more, you can buy the book on Amazon here.

Chapter 1: Night Watch

Tull felt teeth pierce his ankle, each tooth as sharp as flint, and heard bones crunching. Dimly he realized that it was dark, that he heard the growl of a great lizard. He kicked at the beast, struggling to rouse from his slumber.

“Yaagh,” he called. Most dinosaurs in Hotland were afraid of men, and he hoped that his shout would startle whatever had seized him.

Fully awake, he realized that it was only a strong hand that held his ankle.

His good friend Ayuvah laughed at the joke. “Shitha!” Get up, Ayuvah said in the soft-nasal language of the Neanderthal, or Pwi, as they called themselves. “Tchima-zho, sepala-pi fe.” I finish gladly, and take joy in my coming sleep.

Tull looked up into Ayuvah’s face and blinked to clear his vision. The great moon Thor was up, a green-blue monstrosity in the sky, and though it was only a quarter full, Tull could see the young Neanderthal man well in its surface.

The warm night air around camp smelled thick with the scent of leatherwood honey. Tree frogs whistled in the darkness beyond the edge of the Neanderthals’ little wooden fortress. Out across the plains, two male blue-crested hadrosaurs, with their long necks and duckbills, bellowed challenges to one another as they vied for a mate. The dinosaurs had been going at it solid for three days now in the valley below.

It must have been their calls that disturbed my sleep, Tull thought, and made me dream of predators. He felt glad that the honey harvest was almost finished. The hadrosaurs’ mating challenges had drawn a tyrannosaur into the valley earlier in the day. Ayuvah had killed it with his spear, but more would follow. Soon they would hike to the ship and sail back home to Smilodon Bay.

Tull pulled off his blanket and stretched. Ayuvah handed him the telescope, along with a war horn made from the horn of an aurochs, then went to pick at the stew beside the fire.

“Adja, I fear,” Ayuvah warned quietly. Because he did not say how much he feared, he meant that he was afraid of something unspecific. Seven other Pwi slept quietly around the camp, none of them snoring. The fire had burned down to red coals that glowed like malevolent eyes.

“What do you fear?” Tull asked softly.

“There is much movement in the valley tonight. The hadrosaurs are mating, and I saw two sailfin carnosaurs come up from the swamp. Many smaller dinosaurs are milling about, creatures that have been flushed from the woods. And I saw something else, I think,” Ayuvah said, thoughtfully. “I believe I saw a lantern shining down by the wide spot in the river. But it was far away—and after a minute it went out.”

“Perhaps it was only a will-o-wisp,” Tull said hopefully. The swamp gases along the river sometimes vented at night.

Ayuvah shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Egg raiders?” Tull asked.

Only humans or Neanderthals would make fire, and few dared travel in this part of the world. Many young Pwi crossed the ocean at one time or another to steal dinosaur eggs in Hotland. Back on their home continent of Calla, the sailors paid well for the eggs, then sold them in distant ports to those who were foolish enough to hatch them just to see what kind of monster came out.

Ayuvah shook his head. “It is too late for egg raiders. Autumn will soon be here. I do not think that they would be Pwi. My kin will be going home to take in the harvest.”

The Neanderthal was right. Only Scandal the Gourmet, with his love for leatherwood honey, paid men well enough to work in Hotland in this season.

“Besides,” Ayuvah said. “Egg raiders would not hunt at night.”

Tull hesitated to say his next word. “Slavers?”

“Maybe,” Ayuvah said, nodding. “Twenty Pwi down from Wellen’s Eyes went out on egg raid last spring—and none returned. Slavers could have captured them.”

“I’ve never heard of slavers coming to Hotland,” Tull said, but he wondered. Over the past several years, the predations of the Craal slavers had increased. Some Pwi even said that it was time to flee Calla to make a new home in Hotland, where the slavers would hesitate to follow.

Because Ayuvah’s words made him nervous, Tull put on his war gear. He pulled a lacquered leather vest made of iguanodon hide over his naked chest, and sheathed his kutow, a double-headed battle ax, at his belt. He took his wooden spear and war shield, and slung the aurochs horn around his neck.

The fortress here was hidden. It was little more than rocks and a few poles bound together among some trees near the edge of a small pool.

His guard post was halfway up a large dead leatherwood tree, its ancient branches just high enough so that a man, resting in their gnarled crook, could survey the valley.

From the tree, Tull could see the plains all around. Though vegetation was trampled and sparse, a herd of two hundred triceratopses, each forty feet long, fed on shrubs in the dark grassland to the north. Leatherwood forests covered a row of hills to the east, and upon one hill two miles away, a small fire burned in a tree at the edge of the deep woods. Tull pulled the telescope from its case and studied the tree.

Denni and Tchar, two fourteen-year-old Neanderthals camped by the hollow leatherwood, smoking the honey bees into a stupor. A brazier hung beneath a hive by a chain. In the firelight, Tull could see blond-haired Denni coaxing the fire while Tchar slept. Good boy, Tull thought, to be so diligent. I’ll have to remember to congratulate him in the morning.

Iguanodons, huge and gray in the moonlight, feasted near the boys on the last of summer’s leaves. They were herd animals, large enough to scare off most smaller predators, alert enough to warn if something truly dangerous approached.

Good, Tull thought. The boys will be safe so long as the iguanodons stay near. Tull turned his spyglass off to the west, down to the wide spot in the river. Ayuvah was right. The brush was thick with movement. Too many dinosaurs were out, and they milled nervously through the brush, spooking at the smallest sound.

Tull studied the area. If someone had been down at the river carrying a lantern, then he might have seen the boys’ fire burning in the leatherwood tree when he came round the river’s bend. If the man were a slaver, he would then douse his lantern and sneak along the brush line like a wolf in the dark.

Tull wondered: if a dozen men crept through the brush by the river in the moonlight, would they scare the dinosaurs this much?

He wasn’t sure. A dozen allosaurs on the prowl, that would certainly scare the smaller animals into the open. If passing men made a lot of noise, they might scare the smaller animals, too. Tull turned a full circle, studied the plains carefully. In the moonlight, with his telescope, he could see well enough to feel secure.

A dozen small oviraptors broke into the open, scurrying from the brush near the hills. He focused on the spot, but could see nothing in the trees.

Tull hissed through his teeth, fingered his war horn. Whatever had frightened them was close to the boys. Tchar and Denni were young, and if they got into trouble, they might not have the presence of mind to get themselves out. Yet Tull could not blow the war horn without revealing his position.

Should I warn them, he wondered, about something that might be nothing? Anything could have scared the oviraptors.

Below him at the pond, the tree frogs abruptly quit whistling as someone stepped into the water. Tull flinched, looked down. Ayuvah’s younger sister, Fava, stood in the moonlight not eighty feet outside the fortress wall.

Fava was pretty, with sandy red hair. Her green eyes, uncommon among the Pwi, were set shallowly beneath her brows, which made her look more human than most deep-browed Neanderthals. Fava was a rarity, a purebred Pwi, not of mixed blood, like Tull.

Fava’s bare legs were decorated with colored ribbons, symbolizing that she was still a maiden. Bending over, she untied the ribbons, as if she would bathe.

Tull’s heart pounded, and he looked away as she began to strip off her summer tunic. He wondered if she knew that he was in the tree. How could she not know? he wondered. We always have a guard.

Fava gasped as she splashed into the pond. The water felt deliciously cool against her skin. Distilling honey was hot, sticky work, and Fava relished the thought of feeling clean again, clean like the night sky that caressed the moon’s cheek.

Fava dunked her head beneath the water’s surface to soak the honey smoke out of her hair. She rolled her head from side to side, letting the current ripple like fingers through her tresses. Fingers, she thought. Would that they were Tull’s fingers instead of the river’s.

He watches, up there in his tree, she thought. She pushed off against the rocks and silt of the pond’s bottom and took in a breath before she stretched out to float on her back under Thor’s blue-green light.

Fava shared her smile with the moon. Let him watch, she whispered to Thor. If Tull watched, perhaps he would see that she was a woman grown, a woman who offered potho ha-chima, the love that opens like a rosebud, instead of the simpler friendship of a childhood playmate.

For Fava was a girl no longer. Her goals and desires had evolved from the toys and games of a child into the larger world of kin, village and hearth. Like all Pwi women, she would take a mate once and forever, joining her spirit with his the way bark is bound to pith.

The water lapping against the shore offered a soft chuckle in response to Fava’s thoughts, so she splashed.

What if Tull didn’t want her? What if his heart yearned after some human woman, just as hers yearned after him? Tull’s father was human, so perhaps Tull aspired to a human life, a human wife. The thought unsettled Fava, so she dove beneath the surface again to wash the thought loose.

Surely, Tull could see that a strong Pwi woman like herself was better than the wilting flower of a human girl he’d chased after as a boy. Well, if he couldn’t, Fava would do her best to make him see.

She rose to the surface and stole a glance at Tull’s guard post over her bare shoulder.

Tull dared a glimpse toward the pond. He could see little. Fava’s pale flesh shone softly in the blue moonlight, and she swam with the grace of an otter. “Fava,” he whispered, “what are you doing?”

“Bathing,” she said. Fava was a sweet girl who seemed mystified by the world and always spoke with a strangely intense inflection, as if trying to convey how odd everything was.

Tull’s face burned with embarrassment.

“Mmmmm,” she sighed, splashing water. “I’ve been boiling honey for three days. My clothes are sticky, and they smell like leatherwood. Tell,” she said, speaking Tull’s name as well as her Neanderthal lips would allow, Even my skin smells-fondly of honey.”“

Tull blushed and looked away. Fava teased him from time to time, yet it seemed like a game. Tull was not sure if she really wanted to catch him. For Neanderthals, all objects, all people, all places held kwea, the emotional weight of past associations. Tull felt drawn to Fava, but she’d always been like a little sister to him. The kwea he felt for her was friendly, the kwea built up from good times spent together.

He could not think of her as anything but the little girl she had been, someone to protect. But lately, the kwea was changing. She teased him often, and he felt a craving for her—the desire to treat her as a lover.

Yet he didn’t dare make such a move, afraid it would spoil their long friendship.

Besides, why would she want me, a halfbreed? Tull wondered. Not many women would want a half-human, half-Neanderthal for a husband. Fava could surely do better. No, she is just trying to embarrass me.

Tull breathed slowly and forced himself to watch the grasslands, but he could not concentrate on them with Fava swimming in the pool, the sinuous waves rippling away from her like silver ribbons untwining from her legs. She kept at it for half an hour, then climbed out to dry herself in the warm night air, shaking out her long, red hair with her fingers.

Tull struggled to keep his eyes averted. Several small dinosaurs had gathered in the valley to scavenge the carcass of the tyrannosaur Ayuvah had killed earlier in the day. Perhaps that was what had so many of the smaller dinosaurs, kavas, as the Pwi called them, on edge. The smell of a tyrannosaur, mingled with blood and offal, was sure to cause some alarm.

Once Fava had dressed, she entered the fortress, shinnied up the tree, and stood on the gnarled old branch beside Tull, one hand resting on the trunk of the tree.

She was tall for a Neanderthal, yet Tull looked down on her, for like many halfbreeds, he was taller than most Neanderthals, and broader of chest than any human.

“Tull, will you comb my hair?” she asked, standing precariously.

“I’m on guard,” he said.

“Everyone else is asleep!” Fava insisted.

Tull took the ivory comb she proffered. She turned her back and leaned against his thigh while he brushed her long, wet hair.

“I’m eager to get back home,” Tull said as he combed.

“Why?” Fava asked. “I thought you were happy to come on this trip. You said you were bored with picking fruit and hauling hay.”

“I fear,” Tull answered, and he told her about Ayuvah seeing a lantern.

“It would be a shame if the slavers come here,” she said. “Tsavathar’shi.” This place, too beautiful. She stood gazing out at the moonlight over plains. It was still an hour before dawn, and a quetzalcoatlus with a fifty-foot wingspan soared overhead, hunting for carrion. As Tull and Fava watched, it began to circle the dead tyrannosaur down in the valley.

Tull finished combing Fava’s hair, then tied it into a ponytail and patted her shoulder.

“Did I get the honey off?” she asked matter-of-factly, playing the part of a little sister again.

Tull leaned in. Her hair smelled of mountain spring water. “I think so, Friend.”

Fava turned and looked up at him smiling. Tull could not read her expression: Anger, desire, mockery?

“Friend?” she said, “are you sure that is all I am?” She leaned her head back.

Tull breathed the sweet scent of her neck. Her clothes still held the fruity, flowery scent of leatherwood honey, and somehow it made him dizzy.

Tull felt unsure how to answer, for if he told her the truth, she might go down and bathe again.

Suddenly he stopped worrying about it: on the hill far away, he saw a torch swinging in the darkness. Tull pulled out his telescope, gaze riveted on the honey tree: Two miles across the plain, Denni was swinging the brazier.

For a moment, Tull noticed nothing else, then he spotted men dressed in black boiling out of the brush. Denni was trying to drive them off with the brazier. Swords flashed in the moonlight.

“What’s happening?” Fava asked.

“Slavers!” Tull said. “Pirates from Bashevgo, I think—at least they are dressed in black. Denni is holding them back.”

“How many?” Fava asked. Tull heard fear and bewilderment in her little-girl voice.

He counted. “Ten or twelve that I can see.”

“Denni can’t fight so many. He is swinging the brazier to warn us!” Fava said. She grabbed the war horn from Tull’s neck, pulling it so hard that the leather string broke.

“No,” Tull said, “you’ll warn the slavers that we’re here.”

Fava put the horn to her lips and blew, letting the deep bellow add to the mating cries of the blue-crested hadrosaurs on the plain below.

Tull watched through the glass as slavers turned as one toward the sounding war horn.

Fava’s little-girl voice turned hard. “Now Denni and Tchar know we are coming. And the pirates know they have a fight on their hands!”

#writingtip

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katekyo-hitman-aus · 6 years

Text

Self Insert!Nana

When Masami died, it was a tragedy, but she was quickly forgotten. She wandered around, craving for human contact only to pass through each body in her beloved city.

The killer was quickly caught but she never thought it’d be her own kin. Her brother killed her and her parents committed suicide right after her death had appeared on the news. Her brother was supported by her auntie who convinced both parents to commit suicide. Masami saw everything. Her heart broke once they both agreed and their bodies were quickly buried by everyone.

She wept for two weeks straight, and then the rumors about this new ghost appeared instantly, making the city even busier. At least the tourists tried to appease her by offering her flowers. She tried to make friends with the dead but they were all busy staring at the sky. She didn’t get it. She stared at the sky in frustration.

What do I do now? Masami felt so so tired.

The next thing she knew, phantom hands grabbed her wrists and shoulders, pulling her into a concrete sidewalk. She struggled to free herself but did it with flames???

Her hands were on fire. Blue fucking fire. She panicked and tried to calm down but a man with a giant cloak and blond hair smiled amiably at her and grabbed her hand. She gulped.

“Hello.”

“Hello?” Masami looked at her surroundings, feeling nostalgic. Wasn’t it the mafia manga??

“Yes it is.” the man answered her voiced question. “You’re in my world. Tsunayoshi hasn’t been born yet.”

Tsunayoshi?

She hasn’t heard of the name since high school- her eyes blink in surprise. “Is this the..mafia?"

"Yes.” Multiple dissembodied voices screamed in the sky. The voices got louder. “You have been reborn as one of the destined.”

Masami gaped. She frowned, “Who am I?”

“That we can not tell. If so, then we’d ruin the tale of Vongola.”

“Then you’re all Vongola Primo, Secondo, and etc? Oh of..course.” Masami groaned. Curse her luck. She had the worst luck in university. Her mind flashes back to when her brother teased her and said he was surprised she survived this long. Middle school. He was adorable~!

Too bad she got murdered by her little brother. She puffed her cheeks, looking down.

A man with short white hair appeared, greeting her in a deep voice. “Yo! I’m Kawahira!” Masami was way confused but Kawahira could’ve been a mist, she supposed.

She saw how Kawahira twitched and she quickly bowed, introducing herself.

“Now that introductions are over, your mission is to make Katekyo Hitman Reborn more interesting! Or not. You’re going to be reborn and you can’t change that Masami-channnn~”

Masami only nodded, signs of irritation clear on her face as she was gently knocked out by drugs. She cried inwardly, opening her eyes rapidly.

It hurt! She must’ve been just born. The cold lights made her wail even more as pale arms carried her in a blanket.

Stupid Kawahira.

5 years later, Yashida Nako weakly coughed and hit her crazy father in the face with a good arm and a toy gun.

“Nako-kun! You’re still bad at this! Blehhhhh-oUCH! SHE GOT ME IN THE EYEEEEEE!” Her father weeped like crazy, her mother popping out from the ground with a first aid kit. Nako blankly stared at the event before hysterically laughing.

Uncle Tokomi thoughtfully glanced at Nako, wondering if she needed a sanity check up. Nako instantly shut up and glared at Uncle. Uncle sheepishly grinned and lifted the girl up

Nako simply enjoyed life, throwing herself into something related to defense. A toy gun that was painted green, the Masami part of her lovingly pretended it was Leon and that she was Reborn.

Her mother cooed at her huge fedora which featured her doe yellow eyes. Masami did look up to Reborn, no matter how weird Reborn was, and she was naturally born with honey yellow eyes. Nako madly cackled, which sounded like angel’s laughter in a baby suit.

Her father guffawed, almost cursing when he realized he had to go to work. Nako frowned as her mother said good bye to her father. Unfortunately, she still had busy parents who had to work due to Japan’s work ethics.

She is grateful her family didn’t live in a farm like her Old family. It was a life full of hives chasing her thanks to the move in family that thought no one lived right next to them and swatted the nest all the way in the middle of Masami’s treehouse.

Nako pouted cutely as her Mama took away the green gun. “Mama!” She cried. “I want my toy backkkkkkkk!”

Mama groaned playfully, flicking Nako in the forehead. Nako owlishly looked at her from the carpeted ground. “Mama?”

“Take your medicine then I’ll give you your toy back!” Mama grinned, lifting Nako into her lap. Nako fidgeted but gave into the disgusting medicine. Sometimes Nako wished she was normal.

She smiled once Mama gave her the green gun and she made loud noises near her mama’s ears. Her mama was slightly surprised but Nako quickly climbed out of her lap, looking for Uncle.

“Uncle! Uncle!”

“OompH-” Uncle stares at her in surprise, smiling kindly at her. “Yes?”

“Can we get more gu-gundos?” Nako hopes it’s a yes.

Nako looks at him in hopes but is slightly curious about his expression. He looks exasperated at her question and a little wary.

“Why?” The kind him comes back. “Didn’t we get you that toy gun a long time ago? Isn’t it pretty important?”

Nako thinks about it and tears up but insists on a new toy gun. “This one’s gon be my special one! I want to get better! Maybe it’ll come in handy!"

Uncle grins, taking out a plastic white gun with a grey handle and a bright yellow trigger. Nako notices it looks a lot more… compact. It’s cold and shiny, compared to her smaller green gun.

She practices until her hand starts to twitch for an actual gun, much to her horror. Masami didn’t even think of any type of harming people in her last life.

Masami in her dreams realizes that she is a Yashida. She must protect herself before anyone in her family kills her. She remembers her death that day so vividly, the younger side of Masako-Nako, cries and cries in front of her parents randomly, so glad she didn’t have a little brother.

She takes things more seriously. Her past life as Masako blurs between this life and her past. The only thing she knows now is how to take medicine and aim plastic bullets at intruders.

Now that Nako is 10, she realizes that her mother is sometimes a lot more tense than when she was younger. Her uncle appears only to give her more plastic ammo and her father was in the hospital. Her father doesn’t say hello to her anymore. Nako feels empty.

She didn’t know much people other than her babysitter but then she was gone. Nako is always thinking about her past life but is sad when she cannot remember it. She remembers the adults that she met before she was directly Yashida Nako.

She hates it. So she forces her mother to explain what’s happening in the family. Her mother glares at her but gives in.

"You shouldn’t be asking for this. Are you sure?"

Nako nods in response.

Her mother explains everything. She’s not normal at all. The Yashidas are a branch grouping of yakuza and mafia. The reason why she’s never had any communications with other people is because she is the weak link to the Yashidas.

Nako also noted that her family was notoriously known for handguns and daggers in their jobs. Nako wasn’t that dense to notice her mother almost said assassinations. It wasn’t like Nako knew everything but now that she had knew about her family’s background, she began to consider how to actually use her skills to help her family and then develop enough skills to run away if things got out of hand.

Nako smiled at her tiny green handgun. It was 5 years old but she did know how to dissemble and polish each of the gun parts. She still wore a new fedora every year and got her favorite fried foods on her birthday.

She weakly groaned one day, one January 1st. It was time to go celebrate New Years. She got up and greeted the maids who only got to see her a few times a year to prepare her Kimono.

Nako beamed at the maids who slipped her extra candy and manga. She hoped her family didn’t notice the sudden influx of manga. She ate the candy before her family came in to take her to the shrine.

Nako tightly held onto her Uncle’s sleeve, focusing on the hidden scars he received a long time ago. Her mother and father were nowhere to be seen but she expected that.

Skip to 3 years later, as a 13 year old, she had grown weaker yet more powerful. She was officially inducted at a Hibari meeting. Nako inwardly gulped, trying to stay still as everyone fluttered by, chatting each other up.

Her uncle groaned at her queasiness and gave her a blue jade bracelet with gold animal charms and was nowhere to be seen after that. She panicked and smiled weakly at the curiious bystanders. She recognized the light brown eyed lookers with dark formal clothing as the Kusakabes.

A woman with a sharp jaw smiled at her and gave her a book. Nako eagerly read it and tried not to cry. It was about a woman that loved her husband and willingly joined in his place. But then the man mourned the death of his wife. He never married or had any adopted children after that. And everyone in his family died.

Nako sniffled, not noticing a slender figure creep behind her.

"Oya? Yashida-san, why are you crying?” A light voice chirped. She yelped and gripped the book tightly.

That was the time she met Hibari Masae, a girl with a soft spoken voice but strong morals. Unknowingly to Nako, Hibari Masae instantly adored the mousy girl and kept her under the Hibari claim.

Nako was probably the most happiest at this point in life. Her parents and uncle looked afar in relief. She had passed the test and the Hibaris and Yashidas would become united once again.

Life for Nako was fulfilling and she entered high school with Masae. She experienced an overall happy school year and stayed with Masae until they both graduated college with top rank grades. Masae moved to Namimori and Nako had stayed in Tokyo, happily working in her secretary job and translating Japanese novels to Chinese and English.

Then she met Iemitsu. For the first time in forever, she felt wary and her blue flames flared actively. She snapped out of her civilian act, avoiding Iemitsu.

But then she fell in love as he noticed her. She knew very well who this was.

The young Lion. And she was screwed, for someone who probably had better aim than Iemitsu in guns.

She could see he was a stale Sky, not that he knew and she went in anyways. Nako remembered Primo mentioning her favorite character back when she was Masami.

That was the only part she remembered. All parts of Masami were dying by now and the only thing they were both connected to were weapons and the Hibaris. Masami had no knowledge of the Yashidas and cut the connections at those two things. Nako didn’t care and smiled at Iemitsu, taking his orders to the boss for a translation.

Sawada Iemitsu had an Italian contract that was about a peace treaty. Nako giggled in feigned ignorance at Iemitsu’s poor excuse of a treaty. She knew Vongola would fail and her family wouldn’t mind if the Hibaris protected her in Namimori.

Nako had changed her name from Yashida Nako to Sawada Nana in a nice quiet Namimori. Namimori was an odd town with many types of characters who were way too oblivious about the gunshots in town. Perks of being protected by Hibaris she assumed.

Nana was so disgusted by how the teachers of Namimori were and had secretly supported Hibari Kyouya’s reformation of the school. Nana instantly shot down the dangers of mafioso as Masae was weakening.

Nana stayed by Masae’s side and ruthlessly killed with Masae’s weapons. Nana had at least soothed Masae’s chronic fatigue while Tsuna was still running around, perfect timing for Kyouya and her Tsuna to get to know each other.

Tsuna was embarrassed by Nana’s antics but he had learned to take hand to hand combat from Nana’s white hairs about Namimori’s weakspots and complaints he heard everyday at dinner with Masae-san, Kyouya-kun, and Okaa-san.

Everyday was fun and Tsuna didn’t really care about his deadbeat father. Tsuna thought Iemitsu was dead.

Then Vongola Nono came during summer vacation with Iemitsu in sight. She locked all of her guns in place and it was hidden behind the bookshelves. Just like scooby-doo, Tsuna giggled and went to the kitchen once Nana shooed him away.

Nana had hovered over Tsuna like a shadow and smoothly intercepted her husband from cornering her son.

“Why don’t you two talk about your job with us? How’s everything?” Silence.

Nana thought so, laughing at her husband’s lack of response. Even a trainee in her family has a backup plan.

This was the great Vongola that Nana heard about? Nana knew she’d have to put herself into the crossfire in order for her Tsuna to go and have a happy life!

She knew Tsuna was meant to be Decimo though. Tsuna warily peeked at Nono, forgetting about the man that was his father and her husband. She hummed happily.

2 days later, they’re gone, much to Tsuna’s relief. Tsuna had voiced that the nice old man would’ve sealed the instinct he had. Nana narrowed her eyes and dragged her son to Italy with her.

It is there that she finds a young girl named Bianchi. Bianchi leads her to her Family and there Nana had made a secure alliance with the Fiorentinos and the Greco.

They’re small in numbers but cunning in executions and expansion of the Family.

By luck, Nana meets a female Skull. Odd. Masami doesn’t remember that part but she and Skull occasionally get along in mercenary missions.

A year later, Vongola still hasn’t found out about Nana and Tsuna’s disappearance thanks to the Hibari Clan. Kyouya and Masae are pretty set off by everything and Masae recovers and takes out her pretty and heavy fans to slash at mafioso.

The cloud arcobaleno comes back with Nana and Tsuna and is instantly filed as a civilian. She was originally a girl of all trades in the circus and passed those skills onto Tsuna.

Tsuna was slightly less clumsy with his fire and stepped with a cat’s grace by the time all of Vongola’s heirs died out. By the time Reborn ends up in Namimori, Tsuna dodges all attempts made by Reborn even if it’ll kill him.

Nana laughs loudly at Tsuna’s misery but is thankful Tsuna is a lot less like his canonself. Skull is there to cheer on Reborn for once as punishment for Tsuna taking her desserts.

And everything changed slightly.

(this prompt was way too long and it took me multiple hours ow my hands are s w e a t i n g imdead-) :)

note/ Bianchi may or may not have a crush on Nana instead of Reborn. Reborn finally gets to know the infamous Nana everyone talks about.

Reborn is slightly put off by Skull’s sadism. It’s almost like his and he’s disturbed but shrugs it off because Reborn.

Skull used to be a circus performer and often did gymnastics with giant rings of fire. She’s pretty sure most circus performers she had worked with used to be mafioso because of the bullet scars and their ideas of presents(g u n s). Tsuna admires her the most and Reborn is slightly miffed by that. Adorable as Reborn and has a tiny lisp like Reborn. She has purple hair and light pink eyes.

Tsuna is still short haha but Nana can rock a pair of 3 inch heels but is still shorter than Hibari Masae.

The Hibaris are freaking giants and no one ever grows in the Yashida genes smh.

Tsuna’s pretty average in class. Tsuna proposed to be Dame-Tsuna but Nana has flashbacks of being a No-Good in her old life and refuses, smacking Tsuna.

Hibari Kyouya refuses to acknowledge the Sawadas as carnivores but almost pisses himself when he sees Nana glance at the gun the same way Reborn does and instantly puts a bullet into the nearest mafioso’s brain.

^it was the first time he learned about Sawada Nana’s life as Yashida Nako. He stays away from her house whenever he patrols Namimori. Masae laughs her ass off tbh.

#Self Insert Nana AU #khr #katekyo hitman reborn #katekyo hitman aus #sawada nana #vongola primo #sawada tsunayoshi #skull khr #katekyo hitman fics #submission

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