#we have always fallen back on as a safety thing but i guess i was wrong or the dynamic shifted or something anyway it's all fucked

[forestgreenlesbian]

.

#feel like my relationship with my younger brother is changed completely forever not to be dramatic lol but i am sad #we used to b very close but he has kind of. found his faith again and gone full missionary christian which like. i knew meant the dynamic #was doomed lmao but actually acknowledging it makes me sad i feel like i'm grieving for the friendship we used to have even though #it is literally a me problem i think from his perspective he doesn't think anything has changed. but i feel weird about everything #also his new gf is nineteen and he is. almost 25 and i am the only one who feels weird about it like i know she's over 18 but! idk i can't #tell if i'm being overly cautious or if my gut instinct is right. my sister & her husband have a similar age gap but they met when they wer #both over 30 so like. it didn't feel weird. and i didn't feel comfortable actually seriously talking to him about it apart from the first #time he mentioned her over facetime (he went to another country to do mission stuff & met her there) so like an idiot i've just been #making jokes about the age gap becausee like. thats always been our thing lightly bullying each other lol but he blew up at me and said #i've had nothing positive to say about her since he's been back home and that he thinks i hate her and i'm out of line for constantly #implying he's creepy for dating someone younger. idk i felt like such a freak idiot horrible person about it. it completely blindsided me #bc yes the jokes were coming from a place of idk how i feel about this situation so i'm going to rely on the humour-based communication #we have always fallen back on as a safety thing but i guess i was wrong or the dynamic shifted or something anyway it's all fucked #& everyone is just telling me i feel weird out of some?? misplaced kind of jealousy thing?? because i'm 'losing' my brother to his gf lol #which does not feel right at all he has dated so many other girls and i have never had a problem it is literally the age gap like i haven't #even met this girl i'm sure she's very nice! i just worry about her being nineteen!! jesus. and yes maybe i do feel some resentment around #a brother younger than me who seems to be able to live his life with zero difficulty whilst i'm stuck being this unemployed loser who ruins #literally ever friendship & relationship ive ever had but i think thats ok right like i can't help feeling that. i don't fucking knowwww #am i just projecting all these sad feelings about our friendship dying onto his new relationship or like. am i right to be genuinely #concerned she's six years younger than him and still a fucking teenager!!!!!! i don't know

[axelsagewrites]

Tormund*Real Man

Pairing: tormund x f!reader

Kinktober Day twelve: exhibitionism with Tormund – while wildlings talk freely about sex Tormund enjoys watching your blush at even the mention of it making it even more fun to tease you when you come to tend to his wounds

Word count: 2003

Warnings: this is actually technically not smut aka no sex but there is heavy teasing, mentions of sex, heavy flirting, flashing, and physical descriptions.

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

When you escaped Winterfell, finally fleeing from Ramsay’s grip, you headed straight for the wall, straight for Jon. You had been close friends growing up, always lurking in the shadows with him or chasing after Robb. However, you were also trained in medicinal herbs by your mother, a servant who couldn’t just call for a maester when someone grew ill. So, despite his worries Jon agreed you should stay and help tend to the fallen.

What you hadn’t expected was being sent to tend the wilding. You had been locked away during the battle, for safety more than anything so you were shocked to learn when Jon fetched you that he had taken a hostage.

“He’s in pretty bad shape,” Jon warned as you walked the corridor with him down to a storage room that had been converted into a cell of sorts for the wilding. “I don’t think he could hurt you if he wanted but I’ll be every second,” he had assured you as you tentatively stepped into the room.

“Crow,” a hoarse voice came from the corner of the room. Jon held up his torch, revealing the wildling. He was big, that’s for sure, and his hair was almost as bright as the Tully’s. a scraggly beard covered his face and a grimace behind it, “Came to finish the job?”

“Not quite Tormund,” Jon said, stepping closer to the wildling who spat at his feet, “I brought help. She’s a healer, well the closest thing we have to one,”

The man looked passed Jon, his cold blue eyes looking straight at you leaving a strange feeling in your gut. A smirk slowly crept on his face, “She’s a pretty one alright. Guess if I have to die, I might as well go with a pretty face looking at me,”

You were grateful for the poor lighting, hoping it disguised your blush as Jon hushed the man. Jon turned back to you while you tried to ignore the way Tormund was staring at you, “Do you need anything?”

You glanced to the man before your eyes quickly met Jon’s again, “More light,” you said quietly, “I can’t heal him in the dark,”

“Great idea lass,” Tormund pipped up, his voice making you jump when you realised, he was listening, “Can barely even see you in this shit hole,”

His jabs were ignored by Jon who soon lit another couple torches in the room and finally you were able to see him properly. As you walked over you could see blood seeping through his clothes, leaving dark patches, “Um I need to see your wounds,” you said, your voice quiet and plagued with stutters.

Tormund grinned at your words, “Trying to undress me already? Your southern women are forward crow,” he teased Jon who was quick to remind him he was a prisoner here. Tormund rolled his eyes as his hands reached for his top, but you noticed his winces and knew it was no use.

“Here let me,” you said, pulling at the fabric, trying your best not to blush or embarrass yourself as you slowly manoeuvred the fabric over his head.

“Like what you see?” Tormund asked, his eyes glued to yours as you tried desperately to not show that you did.

Instead, you turned your attention to his wounds. The top of his arm was badly wounded, you wondered if an infection was already growing from the sight of him. A few more scratches covered his bodies, and a particularly nasty slice went across his stomach. “I’ll need to clean these,” you told him, pulling out a cloth and treatment for his wounds, “this might sting,”

“Fuck!”

--

You had to check on him at least three times a day to check his bandages and wounds since your suspicion was right and an infection had begun to creep in. at first Jon took you each time but when he was busy he would send another in his place but as he prepared for a greater threat you assured him you would be fine.

After all each time you went it was the same routine. You helped Tormund take off his top layers, changed his bandages, applied new lotions, then more bandages all while he shamelessly flirted with you. at first each sweet word or lewd suggestion was met with blushes and stuttering but it had oddly become a welcome routine for you though you never responded to his flirts.

“Morning Tormund,” you greeted as you unlocked the door and entered his cell.

He was sat on his bed, finally feeling able to do more than lay down, with his shirt already off, “I thought you’d forgotten about me,” he grinned as you moved to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling out your supplies.

while the sight of his bare chest had made you blush originally you had seen it so often the affects had worn off. However, as you were changing the bandage on his arm your eyes glanced down and you felt your skin heat up. At first you had thought he was only bare chested but as you looked down you could clearly see his naked hip, only covered by furs.

You glanced at Tormund for just a moment before your eyes darted back to the wound, trying your best to keep your breathing calm. Out the corner of your eye however you saw the cogs begin to turn in his head, a small smirk stretching onto his lips. “Are you alright little dove?” his voice snapped you back to reality.

You could feel your skin flush as you shot him a quick smile as you assured him nothing was wrong. However, his eyes watched you with fascination the whole time. “That one’s done,” you said, tucking the soiled bandages into a bag you had brought. “One second,” you told him as you went to shuffle back, allowing you to reach his stomach more easily.

“Allow me,” he grinned, shuffling up the bed slightly to give you better access to his midsection but also a new sight. you tried your best not to look but you found yourself catching a quick sight. the furs covered his manhood, but the new position meant it was all you couldn’t see. In fact, it was the most you had ever seen of a man.

As your hands moved to take off his next bandage you mentally cursed yourself for trembling, “Are you sure you’re alright?” Tormund asked, mock concern in his voice as his hand reached up to push the hair out your face making you shiver, “You seem very,” he paused thinking of a word before smirking, “flustered,”

“I’m fine,” you said again, trying to keep your voice steady as you reached for a damp cloth.

“Tell me something little dove,” Tormund said, using his favourite new nickname for you apparently, “Have you ever seen a man before? a real man I mean. Not just some crow boy,”

You paused for a moment, debating whether you should even answer his taunts, “No,” you finally stated as you reached for the ointment to apply.

You dabbed a cloth in it however as you pressed it against his skin you gasped as his hand wrapped around your wrist, “Do you want to?” he asked, a glint behind his eyes that only served to deepen your flush, “You southerners are so sensitive,”

“I’m a northerner,” you tried to say it firmly, but it came out like a child arguing about their bedtime.

Tormund chuckled, letting go of your wrist, “No little dove. Us northerners don’t even bat an eye at a little skin. Any free woman would already be climbing under these sheets. Whereas you,” he said, suddenly leaning forward to whisper in your ear, “you pretend as though you don’t want to see it,” he whispered, his tone taunting.

Your hand reached up to his chest, pushing hard back onto it. You knew he could’ve stopped you if he wanted to but he let himself fall back into the furs with a smirk, “I’m trying to work,” you stated firmly, reaching out to apply his treatment, “and if you don’t wish to have these wounds reinfected I suggest you let me,”

“Why do you care so much if I get better?” he asked, his head cocking to the side, “it’s almost as if you don’t want me to die. Tell me little dove, what is it you want?”

A thousand things came to mind but instead you only said three words, “To go home,”

The room was silent for a moment, Tormund nodded in agreement, “Aye, me too,” he said, and you wondered if for a moment he would be serious but yet again you were proven wrong, “But when I go home, which I will, I will tell all my men of the southern beauty at the wall,” he said, moving to sit up again but your hand shot up to push his chest back. His hand however just clamped over yours making it hard not to blush as he stared into your eyes, “and how I showed you how a free man fucks his woman,”

“I am not your woman,” you said, your voice quiet.

“Aye,” he agreed, leaning back into his furs, “but you could be,” he said, his hand gripping the edge of his furs, “don’t you want to know,” he asked, pulling the sheets down slowly, revealing more of his V line.

However, as your eyes wandered down his body, your mind racing as you tried to stutter out a no, the ointment pot suddenly clattered to the floor, slipping from your hand in your daze. You quickly turned to retrieve the pot, grateful very little had spilled however as you turned back you froze.

Tormund had pulled the sheets further down revealing his manhood to you. a heavy flush covered your face as your eyes stared at the unfamiliar sight. while you knew he was large you foolishly had not expected his manhood to match. It was hard, its tip red and desperate to be touched. Thoughts raced through your mind, but you had no time to act.

You tried to speak but all that came out was vague stutters until a knock at the door snapped your attention back and you quickly jumped off the bed. The door opened suddenly to reveal a very serious looking Jon, “I need you to take a look at Gilly,” he said, his eyes glancing towards Tormund.

You looked back at the wildling and released he must’ve recovered himself in your panic, “She’s not finished with me yet crow,” Tormund said, his voice far gruffer when he spoke to Jon instead of you.

“Aye well she’ll be back later,” Jon said, stalking across the room, “I’m sure you can wrap this around yourself,” he said as he tossed a bandage out your bag at him before he turned back to you with an expected look.

You nodded, quickly gathering your things as Jon moved to wait beside the door, “Goodbye pretty girl,” Tormund whispered as you packed your things, “If you ever want to know what a real man feels like you know where to find me,” he added as you finally were able to walk away.

Jon shot you a questionable look as you rushed out the room, your cheeks flaring up when you heard Tormund calling after you, “Until next time little dove,” he called making Jon slam the door, locking it quickly behind him.

“Is he bothering you?” Jon asked as he led you towards Gilly’s room, “If you feel you need an escort all you need to do is ask,” he said.

Jon looked at you with a mix of concern and confusion written on his face as you considered his offer before shaking your head, “I can handle him,” you said however you wondered if you were right, but you did know one thing. Tormund was officially stuck in your head.

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy  @valeskafics

#tormund #tormund giantsbane #tormund x reader #tormund smut #tormund imagine #tormund fanfic #tormund giantsbane x reader #tormund giantsbane smut #tormund giantsbane imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones smut #game of thrones x reader #kinktober

[clangenrising]

Month 12 - Leafbare

Sagetooth’s ear twitched irritably as she listened to Smokyrose’s proposal. “This is nonsense!” she huffed. “You want to try and make peace with these rogues?! You’d sooner teach a fox to fly!” Smokyrose tried to hide her scowl, focusing her attention back on Goldenstar. 

“I think we have to try,” she said. “And we ought to try as soon as possible. If we can put an end to the fighting before anyone else gets hurt, we should do that, right?” 

“I see what you’re saying,” Goldenstar said and Sagetooth waited eagerly for the ‘but’, “but these city cats don’t seem interested in any outcome besides getting what they want. I’m not sure there is a peaceful solution.” 

Smokyrose frowned and said, “We should do our due diligence. If we don’t, the ‘what ifs’ will weigh on our minds for the rest of our lives.” 

“Maybe for you,” Sagetooth growled, lashing her tail. “I will sleep soundly knowing we refused to negotiate with these barbarians.” 

“That kind of talk isn’t helpful,” Smokyrose pouted. “We need to empathize with our enemy, not demonize them.” Some things never changed. Smokyrose was still as self righteous as ever and accustomed to using her pretty face to win arguments. It made Sagetooth simmer with rage.

“I beg to differ,” she retorted. “There’s a reason the Code expects us to refrain from making friendships within other Clans. Too much empathy loses battles.” 

Goldenstar chirped to get the two older cats’ attention then sighed. “Look. I would love to be able to agree with you Smokyrose but I’m worried about your safety. Maybe we can find a compromise, yes?” 

“I’m listening,” Smokyrose smiled and Sagetooth rolled her eyes.

“It’s been a while since we actually ran into any rogues,” Goldenstar said. “Next time we do, we’ll ask them for a meeting and then we’ll arrange a time and location that I can feel confident you’ll be safe in. How does that sound?” 

“I guess…” said Smokyrose. Sagetooth huffed.

Goldenstar looked at her and asked, “Sagetooth, do you have any objections?” 

“No, I suppose not,” said the old healer. Aside from the fact that this clearly won’t work. She was just going to have to let Goldenstar learn the hard way. 

“Good,” Goldenstar sighed tiredly. “I’m glad we could come to an agreement.” Sagetooth and Smokyrose both frowned and shifted their weight but they didn’t protest. 

Neither of us are happy, Sagetooth thought sarcastically, the sign of a perfect compromise. 

“Thank you for hearing me out,” Smokyrose nodded, standing. 

“Always,” said Goldenstar, smiling despite her weariness. Sagetooth frowned deeper. The war seemed to be taking a heavy toll on the young cat and she didn’t like it. 

“Did you want me to bring you those sleeping herbs like we discussed?” she asked, knowing Goldenstar had been against them from the start. 

“I guess…” Goldenstar shrugged. “I… trust your judgment.” 

“Good,” Sagetooth said, standing as well. “Trust me, a night of deep sleep will do you some good.” She headed for the exit to the leader’s den but nearly collided with Smokyrose in the tunnel. She bristled, baring her teeth, and Smokyrose pulled back to let her go first. With a satisfied ‘humph’, she hobbled out of the den and back into her own. By the time she got there, a rant was starting to spill from her lips. 

“She’s got no sense,” she grumbled, “She wants to talk with them? Hah! That will go well. I’m sure everyone will toss a moss ball around and share tongues too!” 

Movement drew her attention and she snapped her gaze up to glare at the perpetrator. Sitting side by side, Aldertail and Oddstripe were refreshing the sick beds. Aldertail had fallen over, tail tucked and ears pressed back, as if instinctively apologizing for being in her way. Oddstripe winced sympathetically and smiled at Sagetooth.

“Evening, Sagetooth,” he said. “Everything alright?” 

“It’s Smokyrose,” she grouched, disregarding them as she stomped back to the herb stores. “She’s insisting we try to ‘make peace’ with the rogues. Ridiculous! She seems to think every problem can be solved if you talk about your feelings enough.” 

“Well, that is her job, isn’t it?” Oddstripe offered with a bashful laugh. “You know, as a mediator.” 

“Pah!” Sagetooth lashed her tail to toss the remark away. “Mediators! We went plenty of generations without them just fine!” She scowled in focus. She had to portion out the herbs without making a mess and her temper was not making it any easier for her achy paws to manage.

“Oh, really?” Oddstripe asked. “I just assumed mediators had been around as long as every other position.”

“Nope,” Sagetooth said. “Time was, we knew how to settle our disputes like warriors. These days all anyone wants to do is talk.” Finally, she managed to fold Goldenstar’s herbs into a little leaf for easy carrying.

“Isn’t that better?” he ventured carefully. “I mean- don’t less cats get hurt?” 

Sagetooth scoffed and turned around, the bundle of herbs in her teeth. “Youngins!” she hissed. “Too afraid of pain.” Her eyes briefly landed on Aldertail and the warrior impulsively went to lick at her paws. Sagetooth’s tail lashed again. 

“Stop that!” she ordered. 

“Sorry!” Aldertail squeaked, slamming her paw back down. 

“Stars, girl!” Sagetooth groaned, “I ought to put garlic on your legs!” 

“I-it’s alright,” Oddstripe tried, laying his tail around Aldertail’s shoulders. “She just wants you to be kind to yourself.” Sagetooth’s fur prickled. 

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” she spat. “We’re not doing her any service by coddling her. She’s a full grown cat, she should be able to take control of herself and stop tearing up her own skin any time someone looks at her sideways!” 

“I’m sorry,” Aldertail said again. “I’ll stop, I promise!” 

“You’d better,” Sagetooth growled. 

Oddstripe’s big ears turned backwards. “Sagetooth! She can’t help it!” 

“Excuses, excuses,” scoffed Sagetooth. 

Deep down, she knew she was being harsh. As much as she disliked it, Aldertail’s condition wasn’t something she had too much control over, but Sagetooth was angry and her hips hurt and it seemed like everyone had forgotten what it really meant to be a warrior and she wasn’t in the mood to keep her thoughts to herself! She also wasn’t in the mood to put up with Oddstripe’s bleeding heart at the moment and she stalked out of the den, tail arched at the base as it lashed side to side. 

“It’s okay, Oddstripe, really,” she heard Aldertail say as she left. “I know I should be better about it.” 

“Oh, you’re fine,” Oddstripe said firmly. “Why don’t you finish these nests? I’m going to have a word with Sagetooth real quick.” 

Sagetooth growled, low and long, as the sound of pawsteps quickly caught up to her. The sun was starting to set, casting the camp in a soft purple. On any other day it would have been beautiful but, today, for some reason, it was very annoying.

“Sagetooth!” Oddstripe hissed, easily keeping stride with her. “That was entirely inappropriate! I- I know you have your own way of doing things, but I-” 

“You what?” Sagetooth stopped to glare at him and his stupid, giant bat ears. 

“I-” Oddstripe recoiled under her gaze. She huffed in satisfaction which only made him more upset. “I won’t let you talk to her like that.” 

“Oh, really?” she growled, setting down the herbs. “What will you do to stop me?” 

Oddstripe squirmed but kept that annoyingly determined look on his face. “I- I don’t-” 

“Sagetooth!” a voice called out from the eastern hill. Sighing, she turned to face the patrol returning to camp with a grimace. 

“What now?” she said before she saw them and all thoughts seemed to fly from her head. 

Pantherhaze was in the lead, with Yarrowshade, Barleypaw, and Stormwhisper in tow. Each of them carried a kit about four weeks old in their jaws. Sagetooth’s eyes snapped onto Stormwhisper and he immediately wilted under her gaze. 

“There you are!” she shouted. “Where in the Dark Forest have you been?!” She stormed towards them, the herbs and her argument with Oddstripe completely forgotten. Cats started emerging from their dens to see what was going on.

Stormwhisper set the kitten down between his paws and said, “StarClan led me out past the territories where I found a pregnant queen. I helped her deliver the kits and she asked me to take them back to be raised in EarthClan so I did. I’m still not sure why StarClan set me on this path, but I assume the kits must be important somehow.” Sagetooth narrowed her eyes. His response seemed rehearsed to her and far too vague for her liking.

As he spoke, the others set the kits they were carrying next to the first and one of them, a little white and ginger tom, started to squeal hungrily. The others joined in, becoming a pitiful, sickly sounding chorus. 

“Oh, the poor things!” Oddstripe said, moving over to inspect the kittens. “They’re half starved!” 

“I’ve been trying to feed them,” Stormwhisper said, “but it’s been hard since they’re still getting the hang of food.” 

Sagetooth was still glaring. “They’re not even weaned yet and their mother sent them away with you?” 

Stormwhisper frowned and shifted his weight uneasily. “Yeah. I tried to convince her to come with me but she wanted nothing to do with them. B-besides, I figured I’d been gone long enough already-”

“You sure have!” Sagetooth hissed, tail bristling. “Oddstripe and I have been covering for your absence! There’s a war on! And you just went off for three moons, completely neglecting your duties and oaths?!” 

“A war?!” Stormwhisper reeled. “Between whom?” 

“Everyone and a bunch of bloodthirsty rogues,” Sagetooth snapped. “You’d know that if you’d stuck around.”

“Easy, Sagetooth,” Yarrowshade said, stepping forward a little. 

“He said StarClan was guiding him,” Pantherhaze added, eyes wide. “Maybe these kits are going to save the Clans some day!” 

Oddstripe whispered, “Barleypaw, would you grab me some drinking water and a bird of some kind?” Barleypaw nodded and bounded off towards the nearest stream.

“I’ll go grab the ones we cached earlier,” Yarrowshade offered.

“Thank you,” Oddstripe purred. “Stormwhisper, why don’t you help me get them to the healers’ den?” Sagetooth’s jaw hurt from the ferocity with which she was clenching it. It seemed no one there cared at all about Stormwhisper’s transgressions. She wished that she could set him on fire with her glare alone. She couldn’t, of course, and he eventually broke her gaze to smile at Oddstripe.

“Of course,” he said. Stooping down, he started nosing the kits towards the healers’ den and said, “Come on, little ones. Food is this way.” Sagetooth watched the fondness on his face, the way he gently picked up the smallest one and helped him along, and her expression darkened. The kits were skinny and weak, that much was clear, but if their mother had abandoned them at birth they would have died within the week. The situation wasn’t adding up right and it didn’t sit well with her.

That night, she watched from the back of the den as Oddstripe and Stormwhisper fawned over the kittens and tried to help them eat. They laughed together. Oddstripe shared stories about their own litter. Stormwhisper shared his names for the litter. 

They were all toms. The biggest and strongest of them, the ginger and white one, he named Bluffkit. The blue tabby he named Finchkit. The little grey-brown one with the white tail he named Erminekit. The white and grey speckled one he called Rainkit.

“You know,” he admitted to Oddstripe after he’d said it, “I always wanted a kit named Rainkit.” Sagetooth’s eyes narrowed. 

“Really?” Oddstripe purred. 

“Yeah,” said Stormwhisper. “You know, Stormwhisper. Rainkit. I thought it was cute.” 

“Oh, it is!” Oddstripe said, waving a paw around for the kittens to bat at. “I’m glad you were able to use the name, even if the kits aren’t yours.” 

“Yeah,” Stormwhisper said, falling quiet, a strange smile on his face. 

That was enough for Sagetooth. She didn’t know why or how but she was certain these kits were Stormwhisper’s. It made her sick. Still, it wasn’t a surprise. Stormwhisper had never been very committed to his duties as a healer, especially not the spiritual ones. As she saw it, a part of him had remained stuck in his time as a warrior and no amount of lectures ever seemed to get him to behave. And now he had used StarClan as an excuse to cover for his blasphemous actions. What a disgrace. What a betrayal.

“StarClan are the ones who betrayed us, Sagetooth. Wake up already.” Redleaf’s words reared their ugly heads, as they often did at the most inopportune times. Sagetooth shook her head. At least she had managed to keep Stormwhisper away from-

Her eyes widened in shock and her entire pelt bristled with unease. 

No… Surely not.

She studied the kits as they settled down against Stormwhisper’s belly to sleep. A ginger kitten was a guarantee that their mother was a tortoiseshell. The more she looked, the more she saw her old apprentice in their features, in the shapes of their faces or the pattern of their stripes.

She shook her head again, shutting her eyes. She was imagining things. There was no way to find such a strong resemblance, not when they were this young, not when they were all toms. Still, the fear lingered with her. She wondered what had become of Redleaf. What reason would she have had to stay so close to the Clan? How would Stormwhisper have even known?

Sighing, she settled herself down for sleep. She had more important things to worry about. That didn’t stop her from worrying about this for at least another hour before she fell into a fitful sleep.

UPDATES: - Stormwhisper returns from his mysterious absence with four kits, Bluffkit, Finchkit, Erminekit, and Rainkit. They stay the night in RisingClan before returning to EarthClan.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Sagetooth #Smokyrose #Goldenstar #Oddstripe #Aldertail #Stormwhisper #Pantherhaze #Yarrowshade #Redleaf #Bluffkit #Rainkit #Erminekit #Finchkit #Leafbare #clangenrising

[divinexmight]

Home, sweet home

Wrote this fluffy little #BkDk fic for my precious friend, @Blu3Dragonfruit, who finished her exams a while ago and got ✨perfect✨ scores on all of them!! I’m so proud, yall 😭

CW:// Fluff, mostly SFW but implied NSFW, kissing

---

"--HA! I WIN!!" Izuku gasps, startled by his Kacchan's sudden bark. The screw he was lining up with the bedpost fumbles through his fingers and falls into the pile of other screws at his feet.

Sunlight floods the bedroom, bathing a pile of moving boxes, a half-assembled bed frame, and a now (victoriously) completed bookshelf in an aura of soft golden light.

A sigh falls from Izuku’s nose as his head drops forward; emerald curls dance as he shakes his head. He crouches, a small smile betrays his exasperation; annoyance and affection colliding in this delightful moment of domesticity. A moment they have both fought, both personally and professionally, to achieve.

Izuku knew full well what he was getting himself into when he fell in love with the hyper-competitive Pomeranian of a man.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but it’s not a contest, Kacchan. We have one day to set up as much of this place as we can before we are busy for 6 days straight.” Izuku sighs with a hint of amusement; sifting his fingers through the carpet, scavenging for the fallen screw. 

His boyfriend scoffs, the smug triumph in his voice rich as chocolate and dripping with arrogance. “Bet ur ass it wasn’t..”

Izuku side-eyes his symbol of victory, standing tall, arms crossed over his chest that’s puffed out like a strutting peacock. A pompous grin adorns the blonde's supple lips and ruby red eyes strike a fiery orange under the sun's glow.

He really is a devilishly handsome man, a fierce Adonis made even more enchanting in the gentle light.

"-'cause you never stood a chance, Nerd." his Kacchan victorious laughter fills the small room. Izuku smashes his lips together, pushing away the sassy comeback that springs into his mind. Instead, he focuses his attention back onto the bed frame- though his features twist into a knowing smirk. 

Izuku didn’t use to be like this. 

Over time, his childhood best friend turned boyfriend’s behavior has upgraded from bullying to insufferable teasing. Before, Izuku would never think of retorting. He would just take it on the chin, knowing his Kacchan had the best intentions.

However, now that the beast has been domesticated, getting on his Kacchan’s bad side has gone from scary

-to exciting.

Every drawing of his Kacchan’s ire a dangerous little game. How bratty can he get before he catches those hot, explosive hands on his thighs, wrists

-around his neck.

Izuku teeters on the edge of danger, the taunt balanced on the tip of his tongue as his Kacchan cackles in the background. 

He knows he shouldn't say it.

Izuku has been slowly climbing the ladder since he defeated All for One and saved Shigaraki. After graduation, he was #1 hero within a matter of days. In the years following, his Kacchan has fought for the #2 spot with their dear friend, Shoto.

Shoto and Izuku stopped caring once they discovered the reality of hero culture and the Hero Public Safety Commission.

-but his Kacchan’s ambition remained unquenchable.

It's a sensitive subject with his Kacchan

-And a prompt way to get exploded.

And Izuku, with his mind buzzing and Kacchan's laughter ringing in his ears, was playing with the detonator.

The urge to knock his Kacchan down half a peg boils over; off the tip of his tongue and out his mouth-

“Guess if this whole being a hero thing doesn’t pan out, and you are perpetually stuck in me and Shoto’s shadows, Ka-cchan~*,” Izuku muses, sarcasm dripping from his words. “You can always fall back on being Japan’s number one IKEA furniture assembler.”

The laughter abruptly cuts off.

Ominous silence- other than the soft breeze drifting in through the window past slowly twirling curtains.

A foot falls towards him.

Izuku cannot help the amused, wry smile that creeps wide across his face. He doesn’t even need to look, his Kacchan’s quiet fury like a roaring furnace looming ever closer.

Another.

The air becomes thick with his Kacchan’s presence. The familiar pop and snap of Nitroglycerin igniting sends a shiver down Izuku’s spine- wait.

/ahh no! The bed!/

His Kacchan’s rage is undiscerning and widespread. The hapless wooden frame surely wouldn’t survive. 

Unless he wanted to sleep on a couch for the next week, Izuku needed to douse the approaching roaring furnace before it blew up in his face, literally.

"Ah hah, Kacchan~*! I'm so slow! S-since you /won/ and finished the bookshelf first, why don't you start putting our p-pictures and stuff up?!"

Yet another foot falls; the snap of sparks now tickling the shell of his ear- 

"-y-you know, because the s-sooner I get this bed up-! The sooner you can break it, and me~*, in, Kacchan..." Izuku holds his breath, waiting for the explosive reaction.

Instead, a low "mmm" from the blonde's throat confirms he'll forget the comment for now. His hand and intensity retreats towards the stack of moving boxes near the window.

Nothing pacifies the Murder God like the promise of playtime

-but he knows he’ll pay for that later.

The room lapses into silence as his Kacchan looks through framed newspaper clippings, advertisements, and various hero achievements. As Izuku steps back to admire his handiwork on the bed frame, a pang of guilt gnaws at Izuku’s heart.

“I'm sorry, Kacchan” Izuku breaks the silence. “The hero comment..that was..uncalled for. I shouldn’t have said it.”

Without missing a beat, his Kacchan grumbles, “If you’re gonna talk shit, /Deku/, own it,” adding under his breath, “like I’m gonna own yur ass later”

Yea, he’s definitely paying for that later.

Izuku’s hearty laugh echoes through the room over his Kacchan’s quieter chuckle. Izuku finishes putting the sheets on the bed, playfully wiggling his shorts-clad thicc peach knowing full well his boyfriend’s delicious predatory gaze was still fixated on him. 

His Kacchan must be rubbing off on him. Izuku loves teasing his Kacchan. Loves capturing his gaze; holding his attention. He had no idea how good that hot carmine stare would feel over his flesh until they got together and he couldn't shake it.

The domineering voice that matches his favorite carmine stare interrupts the warm caress of Izuku’s thoughts. "This all that goes on this shelf?..We don't have any other pictures?" His Kacchan's brows furrow in confusion, a framed news article in his hand.

"Yea Kacchan, just that box." Izuku says without diverting his attention. Just the pillowcases and then he’ll be done with the bed. He's fluffing a pillow when he feels his Kacchan's presence behind him.

A powerful arm wraps around his midsection and snakes up his torso to his neck; a strong, but controlled, hot grip wrapping around his throat.

And in an instant, before he can even think

-his body surrenders on its own.

Izuku’s mind goes completely blank as his head lulls back into bulky shoulders. His eyes close to make his other senses sharper. 

A buttery, cinnamon sweet musk envelops his nose, reminding him of the safety and submission; pain and pleasure that come along with it. 

Izuku drapes his body along his Kacchan’s front, his back molding to fit his Kacchan’s adonis-like form. The saccharine promise of intoxicating, maddening, euphoric fullness.

Soft lips bury themselves into Izuku’s wild curls; his Kacchan’s gravelly voice whispering that familiar vow-

“I love you ‘Zuzu. Smile for me, Angel”

While Izuku called his Kacchan “Kacchan” almost exclusively, “Angel” was a name that Izuku only heard when they were alone. 

When it was safe. 

When his Kacchan felt safe to show a side of himself that only Izuku was privy to. 

A gentle, pure smile spread wide on Izuku’s face.

This is heaven. If they didn’t have an entire apartment to set up and only one day to do it, Izuku would probably already be on his knees for his Kacchan.

“I need to go out for something, ‘Zuzu. I’ll be back soon.” His Kacchan pulls back, releasing Izuku from his warm embrace and dropping his mind back into reality.

“Out? W-wait, where are you going?” Izuku blinks his eyes, trying to turn his brain all the way back on as he follows his Kacchan out the bedroom towards the front door.

“I won’t be long.” The blonde grabs his keys off the kitchen counter and slips on some loafers. 

“T-that’s not what I asked, Kacchan. How long is /long/?! And where-” Izuku doesn’t even get to finish before Kacchan is mostly through the front door.

“I said I’ll be back!” The door slams.

-and he’s gone.

An annoyed pout forms, scrunched up to one side of Izuku’s face- but quickly fades. Izuku cocks his head to one side and shrugs. He heads back to the bedroom. Might as well start on the nightstands.

His Kacchan knows how much they have left to do, so he’s sure whatever he ran out for must be important and quick. 

~*~

All For One better have resurrected. 

Godzilla better be real. 

The Earth /itself/ better be falling into a black hole.

In fact, all three of those scenarios better be happening simultaneously, or Katsuki is sleeping on the comfy new sectional couch for the foreseeable future.

The comfy new sectional that Izuku had to set up /by himself/.

Izuku sits on the edge of the now organized kitchen counter facing the front door. Legs crossed, arms crossed, and not amused in the slightest. 

By the first hour, Izuku had finished up the bedroom. Even organizing the closest, hanging all of their clothes up and folding the garments that needed to go in the dresser. He then got the bathroom all situated so their morning routine wouldn’t hit any snags. 

By the second hour, Izuku had tried to call Katsuki but noticed a ringing coming from the victorious bookshelf. Slightly annoyed, he moved into the livingroom to get the dining area and TV set up so they could watch a movie or something with dinner tonight. He saved the couch for last, since he thought Katsuki might have wanted  input on where it went.

Not that Izuku gave a crap about what Katsuki wanted at this point.

As he sat and stared a hole into the front door, Blackwhip took dishes and other kitchen items out of their boxes and put them away. It wasn’t that he needed Katsuki. Using his quirks, Izuku could do multiple tasks at once with ease. 

But this was a big step for them, moving in together. And they were supposed to do it together…

Izuku clicks his tongue, watching as the clock that /he/ put up /by himself/ chimes to signal the passing of another hour.

Three hours.

-and as if on queue, a key turns in the deadbolt of the front door. 

Katsuki startles seeing Izuku sitting right there as he stumbles and huffs into the entryway. Bags in the crooks of both elbows and chest heaving from running.

“Enjoy your day out, Kat-su-ki?” Izuku quips, his voice as cold as ice.

Katsuki stiffens and swallows at the sound of his government name rolling off Izuku’s tongue. 

“Izu, I didn’t mean to-- I brought din-” Katsuki starts to hold up the bag in his right arm.

Izuku cuts him off. "What? You didn't mean tooo..?? Leave me here all day to do- whatever!?”

Katsuki’s eyes scan the decorated and clean apartment. The blonde smiles timidly,“It looks great..”

Izuku’s fists and teeth clench. Bright red veins and gashes come to life and flicker in his flesh as green lighting snaps and whips around him. 

He takes a single step towards Katsuki; the blonde mouthing a curse as his back hits the wall behind him.

Emerald curls float before Izuku gets a hold of himself. 

/You love this man, Izuku. Maybe not right now- or tomorrow- or next week, but you love him. Don’t smash him./

Izuku breaths in and out; One For All subsides and his curls settle.

"Uh, w-what I meant to say was- it- I'm sorry. I should've been here and-" Katsuki's voice wobbles as he tries to rectify his poor choice of words.

"Na, don't worry about it. Here-" Izuku purrs. He gets out a plate, a bowl, and a cup and shoves them into his somber boyfriend's arms. "-/You/ can go enjoy that at the table that /I/ set up. /By myself/. I'm going to go take a shower in the bathroom I organized. /By myself/." 

Izuku spins on his heels and storms into their bedroom. "Feel free to watch TV tho, Kacchan. I set that up /by myself/ too!" He shouts while throwing his shorts and shirt off before stepping into the modest bathroom. 

He passes the sink area before stepping into the shower and tub area. 

A large tub sits to the right in the shower area under an obscure glass window; a potted plant adorning the window seal.

In front of him, a small stool sits in front of a ledge with some toiletries on either side. Katsuki's on and left, Izuku's on the right. A shower head hangs next to a wall mirror above the small ledge.

Izuku plops down on the stool. He props himself on his elbows and rakes his fingers through his hair.

He hates being mad.

Izuku is about to turn on the shower when he feels that heat again. That familiar presence.

Izuku floats up and turns towards the door. His displeased scowl a full head above repentant scarlet eyes.

"Ouuut" Izuku whispers, motioning towards the door Katsuki just walked through.

"Izu, I'm sorry- mmm, what can I do? How do I fix this?" Katsuki desperately tries to maintain eye contact- prompting a devilish smirk from Izuku.

He takes great pleasure knowing that the blonde, despite them being in the midst of a fight, is struggling to keep his eyes from drifting below Izuku's bare waist.

Izuku pretends to ponder Katsuki's question for a minute before snapping his fingers in a faux realization.

"There is one thing, Katsuki.." Izuku gets real close, their noses almost brushing. The blonde having to grab onto his pants to stop himself from pulling him closer makes Izuku giggle. "/You/ can try out that lovely sectional you choose, tonight." Izuku says.

"Oh my /God/, Izuku! Come on!" Katsuki groans. Exasperated, he rolls his eyes, turns on his heels, and accepts his fate.

"Don't worry, Katsuki. It's super comfortable! I would know. I took a break on it after I put it together. /By myself/." Izuku watches as the normally cocky and smug hero mopes out of the bathroom. 

As Izuku turns the shower on, he hears Katsuki putting something on the bookshelf. "Oh look who's helping." Izuku mutters. The scoff from their bedroom letting Izuku know his message was heard loud and clear.

~*~

  Izuku steps into their moonlit bedroom and drops his towel. He sulks at the neatly made, and completely empty, bed.

Katsuki should be in it with him..

"What was so da-, what was so important that he had to leave for three hours?!" Izuku plops down in the bed while mumbling to one in particular.

Seriously though, Katsuki knew how important this was to him. Izuku wanted their apartment to be a cozy place they could come home to and part of that is it not looking like a storage unit. 

While he got a lot of it done on his own and there honestly wasn't much left to do, they could have had it all done if Katsuki stayed. 

They also could have done it together..as a couple. 

Choosing how the living room is set up together, deciding which side of the closet they want, or talking about breakfast options for the next day while they organize their kitchen. All those little moments

-they mean something to him.

Izuku knows Katsuki probably doesn't care about them at all but..for him to just disregard his feelings..

Izuku throws his back; blinking his eyes and regulating his breathing. Trying desperately to hold back tears. 

Their relationship needs a lot of work.

A glint of red catches Izuku's eye from across the room. For a second, Izuku thinks Katsuki was standing there the whole time. 

But it's just a picture frame- placed prominently on the victorious bookshelf. 

Izuku puts on his bathrobe and walks over to the shelf. He's never bought a red picture frame…

Dead center on the middle shelf, an ornate ruby frame catches the pearlescent moonlight. It's flanked on both sides by Izuku's numerous old hero notebooks. 

And there, on the right, all together sharing a frame, Katsuki's bloodstained All Might card, Izuku's flawless one, and a picture of them hugging as children. 

Izuku looks down to the base of the bookshelf- all their framed newspaper clippings and agency photos still piled on top of one another in a box. 

/Why would he only put 3 things up?/

He picks up the unfamiliar red frame and examines it..! Verdant eyes go wide and start to well as realization washes over him.

Displayed behind the new glass was a photo of the couple. His Kacchan; eyes closed; face buried in his green curls while his strong, venous hand clasps around Izuku's throat. 

And Izuku, leaned back onto his Kacchan's shoulder. Lips parted in a soft smile. Nothing but blissful vulnerability on his face. 

"He was taking a picture..!" Izuku leans in close- an imprint of a kiss on the glass right above his face.

Lip trembling, Izuku rushes out of the bedroom and into the living room where his Kacchan is eating his Katsudon alone. 

Izuku, clutching the picture to his chest, stops halfway to his Kacchan, unsure of his mood.

"Kacchan?" Izuku sees his Kacchan's shoulders drop, head lulls back slightly, and air re-enter his lungs upon hearing his childhood nickname. 

Izuku notes never to stop using it again.

"Kacchan, did you take this today?" Izuku turns the phone around to show him.

"Yea." his Kacchan stuffs more Katsudon into his mouth. "You should come eat something."

Izuku joins him on the couch. He starts to reach for the bag of take out but his Kacchan beats him to it and places it in front of him. 

"It's so nice..I didn't know." Izuku takes a big mouthful of Katsudon, not realizing how hungry he was.

"I know." his Kacchan takes a napkin and wipes the rice from his freckled and full cheeks.

"Is thus wha u wen out today?" Izuku says through stuffed cheeks, unable to pull himself away from his food.

His Kacchan sighs. "Yea- and I'm- I should have- I-I just wanted a picture that wasn't a press release or a brand deal or a photoshoot! We didn't have one. You said you wanted a.."cozy home" and all that work shit ain't cozy so I took one. Have to see that shit all day out /there/." His Kacchan motions out the window to the bright, bustling city. "Here, it should just be you. Us. No heroes. No villains, no agency…and it took longer than I thought..and it could 'ave waited till ta'morrow so,..sorry."

Izuku sets the picture and his empty takeout dish down and throws his arms around his Kacchan, burying his tear-dampened face into the crook of the blonde's neck.

"I'm so sorry Kacchan! Im so stupid!" Izuku sobs.

His Kacchan separates them and holds Izuku's face in his hands, confused- and amazed at how he took his mistake and turned it back on himself. "Izu-"

"I was so concerned about setting up the apartment and /my/ idea of a nice memory with you that I completely missed…our first non-work picture together..I would have gone with you, Kacchan! Why didn't you tell me?" 

"..I don't know.."

He knows. They both do.

Feelings and words have never been the blonde's strong suit.

"I should have…" Izuku leaps back around his Kacchan's neck, surprising his relieved boyfriend.

Izuku cringes into his Kacchan's shoulder, his prior behavior flashing through his mind. "I'm kind of a sassy brat when I'm mad huh?"

Strong arms flop Izuku back on the couch cushions; his curls framing his soft, round face. 

Two strong arms and carmine pools pin Izuku against the fabric sofa. His Kacchan lowers himself to his forearms; his soft lips brushing over Izuku's chapped ones. "Hah, I kinda like it." 

"What?!" Izuku Laughs. 

The blonde leans down low, humid breath filling the shell of Izuku's ear. "Makes me wanna tame you…" His Kacchan growls, angling his chin forward to plant a deep kiss on his lover.

Their lips caress in a passionate embrace. Lips part; soft gasps escaping their entangled mouths. Tongues dancing, deepening the tender kiss. Each moan and nibble an apology given or accepted.

But then, with a hypnotic allure, his Kacchan slowly withdraws, teasingly sucking on Izuku's top lip, a velvet caress that stirs a heat low and deep in Izuku's groin. Their connection preserved by a sloppy string of desire as they part.

Scarlet and emerald lock, sparkling with a mix of intensity and vulnerability, silently conveying a craving that words can never fully express.

In that moment, they exist in a realm of shared secrets, where the world fades away and only their connection remains—a connection fueled by the heady blend of trust and longing, forever binding their hearts.

Home.

"Wanna go to bed?" Izuku purrs.

His Kacchan cocks his head and an eyebrow, "I don't know, Angel. This couch is pretty comfortable and-" his Kacchan leans in close, planting kisses and nipples on Izuku's jaw; eliciting giggles from him. "-it was picked out by /the/ #1 IKEA furniture assembler in /all/ of Japan."

Izuku giggles; arching his back and running his fingers through blonde spikes that are trailing kisses lower and lower down his chest. 

As his Kacchan's lips linger around the waist they weren't allowed to touch earlier, Izuku gazes upon the photo. 

A low moan slips past his lips when his Kacchan reaches more sensitive flesh. He can't believe he forgot that home isn't where it's cozy or even where their pictures are.

Home is wherever his loving blonde pomeranian is.

{The End}

Thank you so much for reading! I know it was a long one 😅 If you liked it, give me a follow over on Twitter @Divine_Might ! I post over there more offten! :D

#bnha #katsuki bakugo mha #mha midoriya #mha fluff #mha deku #deku midoriya #kacchan #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugō #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo my hero academia #katsukibakugou #bkdk fluff #bkdk #bkdk angst #bkdk fanfic #bkdk fic #bkdk smut #bnha bkdk #mha bkdk #bakugou katsuki #deku

[zazzander]

My Tin-Foil Hat Theories about The Sun and The Star

i.e. I read the TSATS preview and I have the biggest confirmation bias you've ever seen

(feat. all my theories that are definitely WRONG but so far no one has guessed right so I'm just like everyone else, thank you)

So the book starts with an encounter in the Underworld somewhere, because Will and Nico are talking to Gorgyra.

"Nico di Angelo, why don't you tell me a story?" [...] "Tell me about the two of you," she said.

So this is a great opening, because either this is the story they're telling or we're going to get some cool flashbacks later about Nico and Will's past. What is interesting is that, from the canon so far, Will and Nico bonded over Octavian’s death. He is, fundamentally, part of their story.

Then we go into the far less bleak opening scene.

Nico & the Apollo cabin are talking about which character in Star Wars is Nico's favourite / who he'd take on a date. I would have guessed Nico would pick someone who is just like Will - but Nico picks Darth Vader. And, sure, maybe that's just to so show how Cool-And-Edgy Nico di Angelo is.  

BUT - it's the opening of the book. What is it has more to it?

Let's think about who Darth Vader is. In the beginning, he was Anakin Skywalker. He was a boy subject to a prophecy that said he was save the galaxy (bring balance to the force), but he was manipulated into joining the dark side. The Emperor (hint-hint, nudge-nudge) kept a tight grip over Anakin. Then there's Order 66 and Anakin slaughtering the younglings. But, in the end, Anakin kills the Emperor and turned back to the light side of the force.

Obviously, our Emperors are already dead. But just think about that plot. A person who was supposed to be a hero, who was manipulated by an Emperor, and eventually tried to massacre a lot of children… Keep that in your head.

Moving on! The voice isn’t a ghost. The dream-giver isn’t dead. That’s why Nico thinks it has to Bob.

Now, Oshiro and Riordan remind us that Jason is very, very dead:

Months earlier, Nico had sensed his friend Jason Grace's death, which had sent him into a tailspin of grief and rage.

So when Nico says this:

Demigods always had vivid-and occasionally prophetic-dreams, but when he slept, the voice became almost unbearable.             Help me, please! it called out. I need you, Nico di Angelo. I need you. Well, so did every ghost who visited him. […] But this voice wasn't dead.

We know that it can’t be Jason. Sure, Nico might be wrong about this too – but I feel like that was would be too much of a red-herring. Nico knows what a ghost feels like. If he says it isn’t a ghost, it isn’t a ghost.

The thing is – there is a death that’s, in a way, unaccounted for. In theory, he should have sensed his death as well. But let’s look at the moment:

He might have even said good riddance. But his heart sank as the comet kept gaining altitude. It disappeared into the storm clouds, and the sky exploded in a dome of fire. [Blood of Olympus]

You guessed it (especially if you know anything about this blog, haha).  

This is the moment Octavian ‘died’ but Nico did not feel him passing. Of course, that doesn’t tell us anything. It’s a dramatic ending, the book will tell us about Octavian’s funeral soon and that everything will be wrapped up nicely.

After the explosion, Piper and Jason – free-falling and unconscious – were plucked out of the sky by giant eagles and brought to safety, but Leo did not reappear. [Blood of Olympus]

Huh? That’s odd. If Octavian’s body was flung up into the sky, shouldn’t it have fallen down to the earth as well? When they were searching for Leo, shouldn’t have found Octavian? Even if it was just pieces of him? Where is the body?

There is a group funeral. But I’m very much inclined to assume Octavian wasn’t a part of it.

Octavian would be remembered for saving Rome by hurling himself into the sky in a fiery ball of death. But it was Leo Valdez who had made the real sacrifice. [Blood of Olympus]

That’s Nico’s opinion, on the matter of his death. Cleary, Nico doesn’t see Octavian as a hero. So when this happens:

Shrouded demigods, both Greek and Roman, were burned at the campfire, and Chiron asked Nico to oversee the burial rites. Nico agreed immediately. He was grateful for the opportunity to honour the dead. [Blood of Olympus]

Why would Nico honour Octavian and not mention it? Say something like “he wasn’t as excited to see off Octavian, but he did it for the Romans”. So…no funeral?

Clearly Nico believes that Octavian is dead. That’s undisputed. But – like – guys. Where is the body? Nico also thought Leo was dead at this time! If Leo got to escape, is it not also possible that Octavian did as well?

Nico talks about Bob a lot in this preview, which makes sense, of course, and I have no doubts we will be seeing Bob in this book! We might even be rescuing him. But there’s a BIG disconnect is the story: Bob is gentle and considerate – the person sending these vision is not.

They are desperate. They are begging for Nico’s help. But they seem to have decided the best way to do this is by hurting him. Threatening him. I can’t see how Bob would ever do that!  

The message comes to Nico through dreams. These aren’t quite prophetic dreams, but instead the kind of dreams that Clovis used to show Nico events and memories. Only this time is a distortion of Nico’s own memories. He sees:

His dead mother

Bianca, dressed as a Hunter of Artemis, at the Lotus Hotel

The bridge at the Battle of Manhattan

Trapped in the jar

His encounter with Cupid

In these dream-memories, the message is repeated: listen. But I want to pick out a few seemingly significant moments. It’s obvious the dream-giver is trying to send Nico a message, but I also get the impression that either they are being intentionally vague or they cannot directly address Nico.

It strikes me that they are reticent to show their true form.

I highly doubt any of the people who show up in the dream are the dream-giver. So we can cross several people off our suspect list. Another assumption/guess of this wild theorising on my part is that the dream-giver is using the people in the dreams to deliver their message. They are speaking through these other characters.

Moment #1

“You have to listen," said Michael Yew, his intense brown eyes brimming with tears. "If you don't, you will share my fate."

I want to pull out this line in particular because it’s almost as if the dream-giver knows the prophecy Nico has been given. Referring to: Or your body and soul no one will ever find. Either a reference to Nico’s death (like Michael’s) or to Octavian’s body and soul being lost.

Sounds like the dream-giver might have prophetic powers…

Moment #2

Then in the dream with the jar, Percy appears. The sight of him comforts Nico, however, that is not the message the dream wants to convey.

Nico reached up to take Percy's hand.

But Percy was now farther away. Even standing with his arms outstretched, Nico couldn't reach the mouth of the jar. […] No, no! His friend was even farther away!

It’s possible the goal of this sequence is to tell Nico that Percy cannot help him. That he shouldn’t help him. That’s a big guess on my part, but if Octavian was the dream-giver, he definitely wouldn’t want Percy Jackson involved on the quest.

This part of the dream ends with a message:

“You have to go," Percy said. "Go where?" he asked, though he dreaded the answer. "We made a mistake," said Percy. "You have to fix it."

The first part makes sense, the dream-giver wants Nico to come help them. Now, what about that “we made a mistake” part. Obviously, this seems to point towards the choice Percy made to not go back for Bob. But here me out, what if Octavian is just being manipulative? What is the ‘mistake’ is that Nico and Percy both chose not to trust Octavian? And that helping Octavian would ‘fix’ it? It’s vague because Octavian knows that Nico will not save him otherwise!

Moment #3

“If this is a god or a demigod or something else," Nico added, “you’re really starting to annoy me.”

Huh. We have a resident annoying demigod…

But this final sequence is so interesting! Like, yes, all the dreams are going over Nico’s past traumas. And that’s super important for the readers to be reminded of what Nico has been through (and Will’s own trauma has been thrown in for good measure!) but this is working double duty.

"Please. Just let me wake up." "You still think this is a dream?" […] Favonius's disembodied laughter floated around him. "Look at you, still thinking this is a dream. You are so cute when you're delusional, Nico di Angelo!"

So, clearly, not a dream. This isn’t just Nico’s PTSD. The dream-giver is very much trying to send him a message.

But also, that line ‘you are so cute when you’re delusional’ – that sounds like someone who’s met Nico before. And they’re teasing him!.

He crossed his arms. "I get it," he said. "I don't need convincing anymore! I'll go to Tartarus!" That's not enough, Nico di Angelo. Look upon me.

The dream-giver speaks through Cupid. They threat him, attack him. But then they change their tact. ‘Cupid’ changes their form.

"Please, Nico. Look at me." The voice had changed. It was warm, like honey, like a late-summer sunset, like the first rush of heat from a campfire. […] Nico turned slowly, and there stood Will Solace, his golden hair lit oh so perfectly in the dreamlike daylight of Salona.

Okay this is the part that where I put on two tin-foil hats. Which you should expect if you’ve read this far. Here me out: Nico once described Octavian as looking like Will (just an unhealthy, paler version). So what if this is doing double duty, again? Nico is likely to listen to Will Solace, his boyfriend, but what if dug out a face close to his own?

“Look at me” / “Look upon me”, is this Octavian saying who he is without actually saying it?

Will shook his head. "It's more than you think. When the time comes, tell me the truth."

So, this line, could go a few different ways. But I think it might actually refer to a future exchange between Will and Nico. It’s not about the dream-giver, but the dream-giver has seen a moment that needs to come to pass in order for them to be helped. More glimpses of the future?

So the dream sequence ends! Wow! It’s intense. But I’m not actually done…

Right after the dream takes place, the Oracle delivers the prophecy. Apparently, Rachel has said this prophecy twelve times. We don’t have a timeline, but that makes it sound like this prophecy has been haunting Nico for a while. This part of the prophecy is the part I’m interested in:

Go forth and find the one who calls out your name, Who suffers and despairs for refusing to remain;

It’s totally possible that this is just a typo on the part of the person who leaked this, because the second line is pretty clunky. However, if we take it at face value, “for refusing to remain”, that… doesn’t sound like Bob.

Bob chose to remain in Tartarus. Maybe he’s changed his mind now, definitely possible. But like… What if Octavian was dragged down into Tartarus, against his will, and he’d be pretty damn unhappy about it!

Anyway – those are my thoughts. The obvious holes in this theory are – well – obvious. How could a demigod survive in Tartarus for over a year? Why would Riordan want to write more Octavian? No idea! I’m not a mind reader! Maybe Oshiro is secretly an Octavian fan!

Anyway, it was mentioned way-back-when that a male character without much exploration would be important in this book. So who knows, maybe it’s Octavian. I for one would think it’d be a very cool plot twist.

Especially if it is a trap!

Especially if we have a call back to the opening and Octavian, like Darth Vader, ends up killing the Big Bad and actually being a hero. Therefore fulfilling that original prophecy that Octavian got from Apollo about being remembered as a saviour.

If you read of all this, thank you! You’re the best!

#even if no one this is actually right #that's totally okay #because gods I love Nico #and Kayla #but especially Nico!! #he deserves the world!! #looking forward to the rest of the book #heroes of olympus #octavian hoo #octavian pjo #tsats #the sun and the star #tsats spoilers #tsats preview #nico di angelo

[ur-boyfiend]

pt1

warnings: talk of m-rd-r + d34th , specific mention of animal injury , i think that's it ?? mostly proofread (shocking i know)

notes: i guess this is becoming a series lol , gonna work on the third part after i finish some other stuff on here :3c

the tree is a massive, ancient oak. tangled vines run along the trunk and branches, and generations of witches have carved runes into the bark and tied talismans onto the vines and the branches themselves.

spiritworkers listen to the stories whispered in its leaves, seers watch the future in the warping bark, green witches ask it for advice the way a child might ask their mother. if a branch dies, you'll almost always find a witch snapping it off for use in their work.

the tree has seen more than anyone knows, it has watched witches come and go, it has seen witches desperate for safety and those same witches taken away.

there's a longstanding rumor that if you can't find your familiar they're gossiping about their witches with others at the tree.

many witches will use the tree to communicate with others, tying notes to the vines, leaving an offering for the fae, nestling letters packed into jars between the roots.

you look up to the leaves, the summer green now replaced by fiery reds, yellows, oranges. the talismans sway in the breeze, some clinking against eachother, sending an eerie tune dancing through the cool night air.

edgar, allen, and poe are all flying around, running surveillance. while witches being killed is supposed to be a thing of the past, covens have been reporting members vanishing, only to turn up dead, for as long as you can remember, and you know it's been even longer than that.

that's why, when poe lands on your shoulder without warning, you almost jump out of your skin.

you turn, about to scold the bird, but before you can open your mouth there's a flood of information passing behind your eyes. the only things you're sure of are that there are people with torches, guns, baseball bats, crowbars, whatever they could grab. and there are a lot of them.

cursing under your breath you scramble to your feet. you'd been trying to fix one of the older talismans that'd fallen off, but it'd have to wait.

shoving your sewing kit roughly into your bag before carefully placing the talisman in as well, you tell poe to go find her brothers, and minho. you'd been planning to meet at the tree, still wanting to work with the recently full moon, but that doesn't seem to be happening anymore.

there's a knife in the side pocket of your bag and you don't hesitate in grabbing it and putting it into the pocket of your jacket, praying you won't need it tonight.

edgar comes diving through the forest canopy, followed soon by allen. through their eyes you can see the mob getting closer, and know you have to get moving soon. before you can properly orient yourself to the mob, poe comes half-crashing into the clearing, one wing bleeding heavily.

they must've shot her, those motherfuckers.

you take a deep breath, then you're back in work mode.

"edgar, allen, hide."

the two birds transform quickly into black, bird-shaped hairclips, which you slide into your hair, both on the left, then scoop poe off the ground. there's an altar cloth in your bag and you quickly pull it out, whispering a prayer before carefully wrapping the material around the wound.

you hear rushing footsteps, and a moment later minho emerges from the trees, stumbling slightly when he comes to a stop. you share a look, confirming that you both know about the mob and that you both need to get the fuck out of here.

his face darkens when he sees poe wrapped in your arms, blood starting to soak through the worn cloth around her wing.

"we have to go, they might not be able to see the tree but they'll definitely be able to see us."

you nod, and he grabs your hand before staring back through the forest. you're both terrified, and more than once one of you squeezes the other's hand for reassurance. you're running as fast as you can without further injuring poe, and you're rather quickly out of the denser parts of the woods.

you slow down, gently tugging minho's hand in an attempt to get him to slow as well. he pauses for a second, waiting for you to catch up before continuing side by side.

"where are we gonna go?" you think of your siblings, and know that returning home would put them in danger as well. minho seems to understand your worry, and squeezes your hand again.

"my friend's house, he said that his door is always open if i need it."

you nod, deciding to trust minho's friend. you don't see any reason why minho would put you in danger.

maybe i trust him too much, but he's never given me a reason not to.

as you walk, you hum quietly, a habit you'd picked up years ago when out on walks with your dad. poe nuzzles into your chest and you hold her a little tighter. from the corner of your eye you can see minho turn and smile softly at you.

after walking for about half an hour, you reach an apartment block, near the edge of the city limits. the units are organized more like a small neighborhood, the apartments set into long buildings, each with two stories, the doors leading to the parking lot instead of a hallway.

minho walks up to one of the units and knocks on the door, the door opening shortly after despite the ungodly hour, revealing a man in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, somehow looking like he'd just woken up and like he hadn't slept in weeks.

without saying anything he turns and walks back into the apartment, leaving the door open. minho walks in after him, dragging you along too, then shutting the door once you're inside.

"good morning to you too chan."

"i'll kick you out again, catboy."

the nickname makes you laugh, and minho roll his eyes. but, your laughter quickly fades again and you follow the stranger into his kitchen.

"do you have any first aid things?"

he tilts his head, apparently confused by the request, but his expression quickly shifts when he sees the bird in your arms.

he nods, "minho! can you get the first aid?"

"why me?"

"because it's my house and you know where it is!"

you hear minho grumble something as he moves into a different area of the apartment, and you can hear cabinet doors opening and closing.

"here, you can set them down," he gestures to the island in the middle of the kitchen, then bundles up a few towels for a makeshift nest, "what happened?"

you carefully place poe in the middle of the small nest, unwrapping the cloth from around her wing, "fuckers shot her."

removing the clips from your hair, you set them on the counter, tapping each three times. edgar and allen quickly appear from their dormants, immediately snuggling up to poe, careful to keep clear of her injury.

"who shot her?"

you scowl, far too aware of the answer, "witch hunters."

sighing, you shake your head in an attempt to clear it, "anyways, your name is chan?"

"yep," he pops the p, which makes you smile slightly, "and you are?"

"i'm y/n, nice to meet you."

before the conversation can continue, minho comes crashing back into the kitchen, all five of you looking up at him. he plops a first aid kit down on the counter, before taking off his own familiar's dormants.

salem and jinx quickly materialize from the silver and black rings, emerald and amber gemstones shifting into keen eyes. the two cats nose at poe, jinx licking the top of her head. poe looks disgruntled by the action, and you laugh at them.

you quickly open the first aid kit, rummaging through for the things you'll need. you're not sure if there's any bullet fragment in poe's wing, even though she indicates that the bullet mostly missed her.

after you've confirmed that there aren't any bullet fragments, you carefully clean her wing before wrapping it securely with the bandage. when you're done, poe nuzzles into your hand, and you gently scratch under her chin.

edgar and allen move closer to their sister, jinx and salem also curling up nearby. the animals don't always get along, but you know that they wouldn't genuinely hurt each other.

minho yawns, which makes you yawn as well. chan snorts, but soon he's yawning too.

"mmm i'm going to sleep. catboy knows where the guestroom is."

minho flips off chan's back as he leaves the kitchen, chan seemingly aware of it because he pauses to flip minho off as well. you laugh, but you're cut off by another yawn.

"so, guestroom?"

"mhm, i'll show you where it is. i can just take the couch."

you roll your eyes, "yeah not happening."

minho rolls his eyes back, heading out of the kitchen. you give each of the animals a quick kiss on the head before following.

you find minho standing in the doorway of a bedroom, bowing dramatically as he gestures you inside. you go in, but grab him by the back of his jacket and pull him in as well before he can actually follow through on his plan of taking the couch. he grumbles, but doesn't seriously object or try to leave again.

letting go of him, you flop facedown onto the bed, groaning loudly into the duvet. a moment later you feel the mattress sink slightly next to you, and feel minho running his fingers gently through your hair. leaning into his touch, you rearrange yourself so that you're lying on your side.

"c'mon sleepyhead, let's get some rest."

you feel minho stand up again and you follow, stripping down to your underwear and the t-shirt you'd been wearing before properly getting into bed and under the covers.

minho joins you a moment later after turning off the light, and you immediately move closer, trying to share in his warmth. he wraps an arm around your waist and you can feel your stomach doing some kind of gymnastics routine, but he's being perfectly casual about it so you try to do the same.

it doesn't take long before you can feel your eyelids closing on their own, and you curl further into minho's chest as you fall asleep.

#boyfiend writes #stray kids #skz #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #lee minho #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x reader #stray kids ff #skz ff #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz x y/n #skz x reader #gn!reader #skz fluff

[jaz-it-up]

(full fic under read more)

Martyn hears the spark, the sizzle of imminent TNT, and he puts his shield up, and-

"I've got it! Renchanting: don't be a dog, be a god."

"It's bare bones, but I like it! We always start on a foundation, that's what we say here at, uh, Renchanting."

"We are a traveling magic act." 

"When I turn red, Ren, you're on my list."

"Oh… my… god." "No way…"

"Sometimes in life, we gots to do things that hurt."

"No! I won't do it! I won't do it! You took me in when I was just a lowly traveler, going across the lands, searching the four corners of this world-"

…

"It is not yet your time, green one."

…

When Martyn comes back to himself, his ears are ringing. He's sat up against some stone, sand dusting every inch of his clothes. His head hurts a little bit, but the pain is stronger in his chest; he guesses he's got some bruised ribs, if not fully broken.

"Martyn!" Ren exclaims, running over to him. "Are you- how did you survive that, dude?"

"Survive what?" Martyn asks. "What even-"

He looks up, and the words die in his throat.

The land around him is destroyed. The stone he's sitting against marks the edge of a massive crater, deep enough that falling in could mean death. The desert castle - Grian and Scar's home - is crumbling, only barely standing. His head spins, and he blinks rapidly to try and stop himself from passing out again.

"What happened?" he croaks.

"Scar rigged the whole place," Tango explains. "Tried to get all of you in one blow, like Grian's triple kill."

"I was inside," Martyn forces out. "I- I was in there-"

He winces as his ribs twinge, and Ren's next to him in a heartbeat, red eyes dark with worry behind his cracked sunglasses. "Martyn? Are you- where are you hurt?"

If Ren continues asking him questions, Martyn doesn't hear it; his mind drifts back to the flashes of memories he saw, and to the fear pounding in his chest.

"Martyn?" Ren asks. His voice sounds like it's a million miles away.

Before Martyn can say anything, his vision goes dark. He slumps against the edge of the crater again, completely unconscious. 

…

He wakes to the sound of breathing, harsh and uneven, and it puts him instantly on edge. It almost sounds like someone's having a panic attack, and he wants to help, but everything hurts and he doesn't want to move.

His chest feels… strange. It almost feels tight around his heart and lungs, squeezing the breath out of him. He can taste bile burning at the back of his throat, too, and all at once, everything hits him.

It could have been worse, he thinks. The building could have collapsed. He could have fallen deeper into the crater, and he could have been buried alive, sand burning his throat as he chokes on it, and he could've been left behind in the desert with no form of defense, and he could've died.

Distantly, he knows he's safe. A small part of him knows he's somewhere in the underground rooms of Dogwarts, digging his nails into a bed so tightly his knuckles are white. He knows that someone is probably upstairs, and they probably won't leave him alone if they can hear him.

It doesn't matter. His throat hurts, and his chest hurts, and he's choking on sand and dust and the thick, heavy smell of gunpowder. He's going to die here, buried under the sand in the fucking desert-

"-tyn? Martyn!"

He needs to breathe. There's sand falling around him, blocking out the bright, hot sun of the desert, and he doesn't want to get any more sand in his throat but he needs to breathe-

"Martyn?"

The voice is so gentle, and Martyn knows he should know it, but he's so focused on getting out of the sand that he can't remember who it belongs to. That voice is- it's safety, it's warmth, it's trying to pull him out of the sand.

It's worried red eyes, just barely visible from behind cracked sunglasses. It's a bright laugh and a crown and sharp claws tracing delicately over his skin. It's a cold axe and a warm hug and trust and safety.

It's Ren. 

He can- he's got to breathe. For Ren. Ren wants him to breathe. He has to breathe, because Ren asked him to. Despite the sand weighing him down, he's got to breathe.

"There you go, dude." Ren's voice again, soft and safe. Martyn feels his lungs loosen up a little, and gods damn, a deep breath feels good. It feels so good, actually, that tears burn at his eyes and his breath catches on the sand in his throat. He can hear Ren, but he can’t see him; is he still digging him out of the sand? Did he actually get buried?

“Hey, hey, just look at me,” Ren says. “You’re alright, Hand. You’re safe. Can I touch you?”

Martyn knows Ren’s asking him a question, and that means he should answer, but he can’t seem to make sense of what he’s asking. He’s saying words, but Martyn’s panicked, exhausted brain can’t string a meaning between them.

“Hey, Martyn? Can you hear me?”

That makes sense. Martyn nods, slow and small.

“Okay, okay. Okay. Um… can I touch you?”

That… makes sense, now. Again, Martyn nods slowly, and then there’s a featherlight touch on his shoulder, pulling him in. Martyn lets himself give up for the moment; his fingers dig into Ren’s clothes, and he’s probably getting sand all over the both of them but he’s too tired and scared to care. 

“You’re doing great, Martyn,” Ren murmurs, and Martyn exhales shakily, the adrenaline finally draining out of him. He rests his head against Ren’s shoulder, hiding from the burning desert sun. Ren messes with his hair, bleeding the tension from his scalp, and he sighs.

Footsteps echo around him, and Martyn snaps up, looking around wildly. Ren gently pulls him back down, one arm around his shoulders and the other still in his hair. The gentle scratch of Ren's nails might just be the best thing he's ever felt, not that he'd say it out loud.

"Is he okay?" It's just Etho. Martyn lets himself relax further into Ren's hold. Etho is part of the Army. They're… well, Martyn doesn't trust them, but compared to anyone else who could've turned up, they're safe.

“He will be, I think,” Ren says, and Martyn nods against his shoulder. “Were I not on my final life, I might have words with Grian about this.”

Martyn shakes his head. Not worth it.

Ren stares at him, his red eyes unreadable behind his sunglasses. Even quieter than before, he says, "Do you even- you know we’re in Dogwarts right now, right?”

Martyn hesitates, then nods. The burning feeling on his back and shoulders melts away as he does, as if his body is finally accepting that he’s safe. There’s no sand in his throat, no debris crushing his body. He’s in Dogwarts, not the desert. He’s alive and he’s safe.

At least, as safe as he can be. There's still a war going on beyond the cobblestone walls.

Something clicks softly near Martyn's ear and he startles again, nearly headbutting Ren's hand. Ren rests his chin on top of Martyn's head with a soft smile, and the clicking continues.

"I'm just messaging Grian, Hand," he says. "Calling a truce until you're well enough to fight."

I am, Martyn wants to say, but the words are too heavy in his mouth. You can't stop an entire war just for me.

Unfortunately, Ren can read him like a book, and his smile drops as he leans back to look Martyn in the eyes. "You just had a massive panic attack, Martyn. And you nearly died. I can't- as your king, as your friend, I can't let you go back out there yet."

Again, Martyn wants to protest, but he knows Ren. He knows that his King is stubborn, and that he cares too much for his own good sometimes.

He knows that's going to kill both of them someday.

But for now, he's safe in the underground rooms of Dogwarts. So he closes his eyes and leans against Ren, and he sleeps.

He dreams of sand.

#treebark #3rd life #3rd life smp #traffic life series #traffic life smp #trafficblr #trafficshipping #traffic smp #traffic series #life series #life smp #renchanting #renchantyn #dogwarts #inthelittlewood #rendog #edited to put the full fic under a cut bc I jus figured out how to do that #jaz.original #jaz.writing

[hopemakesstuff]

Over My Head - Chapter 1 (rewritten)

So, as some of you may know, today marks the 11th anniversary for the Japanese release of Fire Emblem Awakening. I also fairly recently reached a funny little milestone of over 666 kudos on the very first fic I ever posted to Ao3 — an Awakening AU called “Over My Head,” in which Robin is a giant. :P 

I’ve unfortunately never actually gotten around to finishing OMH, but it remains my longest fic posted thus far, and it’s always held a special place in my heart for a number of reasons.

BUT

Today I thought I’d share a rewritten version of the first chapter that I did a few months ago (that I also plan on replacing the original chapter 1 with over on Ao3)

~

“Chrom, we have to do something.”

“Well, what do you propose we do?” 

“I… I don’t know. But we can’t just leave her there like that… right?”

He sighed. Lissa was right. 

The blue-haired prince turned his attention back toward the individual his sister had been referring to. Of all the things they could’ve found in the middle of this field, this certainly wasn’t something he ever expected. Until now, he didn’t even believe that such things existed outside of fairytales. 

A giant. There was an honest-to-gods giant woman lying unconscious a couple yards ahead of them. 

She had long white hair tied into loose pigtails, and she wore a long black cloak decorated with purple and gold markings. The designs vaguely reminded him of the garb typically worn by Plegian mages, but that was hardly the most prominent feature on his mind at the moment. 

Although the woman was currently laying on her side, Chrom guessed that she must’ve been a good fifty or sixty feet tall. Aside from that major detail, she looked entirely human. Chrom would dare say she even looked… Honestly, she looked rather beautiful.

The Ylissean prince didn’t think he’d ever felt so conflicted before. While he agreed with Lissa’s assertion, he also feared for her safety. He didn’t want to put his sister in any unnecessary danger, and even though the woman seemed to be asleep, there was no telling what she might do if they woke her up. Hell, she could even easily hurt them by accident while she was sleeping.

“I think it might be best if we wait for Frederick to—” Chrom started, turning to look down at Lissa. Only to find that she was already bounding off closer to the sleeping giant. “Lissa, wait! Don’t—” Another heavy sigh slipped past his lips before he followed after her.

Closing the distance only served to make their vast difference in size even more obvious. Each steady breath the woman took was like a gentle breeze. Occasionally, fingers almost as long as Chrom was tall twitched the faintest bit.

However, they both stopped dead in their tracks as the giant began to stir.

Her eyes fluttered open, revealing that her irises were a stormy gray. Her gaze seemed… unfocused. Groggy, like she wasn’t fully awake yet. 

She let out what probably would’ve been a soft groan, had she not been so unfathomably tall. While far from deafening, it certainly wasn’t quiet either.

Almost instinctively, Chrom’s hand found its way to Falchion’s hilt. He spared Lissa a quick glance before returning his full attention to the woman.

“Get behind me.” His words were soft yet stern, trying not to show any fear.

For once, he didn’t have to tell her twice. Even though they both knew that there was very little he could actually do, Lissa would’ve been lying if she said she didn’t feel at least a tiny bit safer with Chrom standing between her and this massive stranger.

The woman sat up slowly. It was almost like seeing a fallen tree spring back to life. Her palms left noticeable divots in the ground as she used them for support.

She then moved to rub the sleep from her eyes as she looked around the immediate vicinity. Given her size, it wasn’t hard to notice when grogginess shifted into confusion.

Her eyes eventually landed on Chrom and Lissa. Confusion quickly paired up with surprise.

They all just stared at each other for what felt like hours. None of them dared to move. The two siblings scarcely even wanted to breathe.

Until the giant decided to break the stillness. One massive hand started to hover closer to them. It almost seemed cautious. Hesitant, even.

But as soon as her fingertips brushed against his shoulder, Chrom couldn’t stand idle any longer.

Fearing that she was about to grab him—or worse—he drew Falchion from its scabbard in the blink of an eye, slashing out in front of him. Lissa whimpered and snapped her eyes shut. 

The blade met flesh, although the wound left behind might as well have been a simple paper cut by comparison. Even so, the woman flinched and yanked her hand back.

She almost seemed entranced as she watched a thin trail of blood form on each finger, eventually dripping down onto the ground. 

A few seconds passed before she looked back down at Chrom and Lissa. 

“I… I’m sorry. I just… I wasn’t sure if you were actually real,” she murmured. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Her words sounded so sincere that Chrom was almost immediately hit with a wave of guilt. They also made him realize just how gentle her touch had actually been.

“N-No! Not at all!” he stammered, lowering his sword. “If anything, I should be the one apologizing to you.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to apologize either,” she insisted. “I shouldn’t have touched you like that.”

Her actions made plenty of sense, though, the more Chrom thought about it. She’d been just as shocked to see them as they had been to see her. He probably would’ve done the exact same thing if he’d woken up to a pair of tiny people staring at him.

“Let me introduce myself at least,” he said, opting to change the subject. “My name is Chrom, and this is my sister, Lissa.” 

The young blonde gave a somewhat awkward wave before she tentatively stepped out from behind her brother. Much like Chrom, Lissa found herself feeling quite a bit braver after hearing the woman speak such kind, considerate words.

“Do you have—er, that is, what’s your name?” Chrom asked.

“My… My name? My name is… um. Robin?” the woman replied, although Chrom was surprised by how uncertain she sounded. She then took a moment to look around the area again before she continued. “It’s nice to meet both of you, but… Where am I? And… Why are you so small? N-No offense.”

Gods, she’s just full of surprises isn’t she? Chrom thought. “Well, my sister and I found you here in this field. We’re just a couple miles south of Southtown, in the halidom of Ylisse,” he explained to her.

“And we’re not small,” Lissa added. “I mean, I guess we are compared to you, but you’re the one who’s a giant!”

Chrom couldn’t help but wince at his sister’s blunt choice of words. Luckily, Robin didn’t seem upset by the phrasing; just confused.

She looked around a third time, really taking in the landscape. It was only then that she noticed how everything was proportioned much more for someone of Chrom and Lissa’s stature.

“Um… mmm…” she stuttered, almost struggling to find her words. “I don’t… I don’t think I’m supposed to be like this?”

“Wait, Robin, are you saying you used to be normal-sized?” Lissa clarified.

“I… I’m not sure,” the white-haired woman admitted.

“Wh—How can you not be sure?” Chrom asked. He didn’t sound mad or annoyed, just… shocked, more than anything.

“My memories are. Um. A bit hazy,” she explained. “Or… Maybe more than ‘a bit.’” 

With deliberate slowness, Robin started reaching up to put her hand to her forehead, as if she was getting a headache. Only to pause when she realized she was about to use her injured hand, which was still bleeding. She promptly switched to use her other one instead.

Chrom made a mental note of the strange design branded on the back of it; purple markings that resembled six eyes interwoven together.

Meanwhile, Lissa took a few steps forward. “I… I could heal that for you. If you want?” She used her staff to point at the cut across the giant’s fingertips.

“Oh. Yes, please. I would appreciate that a lot,” Robin replied. “Should I… Do you want me to put my hand closer to you, or would you rather move closer to me?”

“Um. Well. I guess I can come closer?” the young blonde said. “Just, er. Try to keep your hand still, alright?”

Robin nodded. “Alright.”

With that confirmation given, Lissa walked all the way up to the giant’s waiting hand.

Chrom couldn’t help but feel apprehensive as he watched Lissa close the distance at a tentative pace. He wasn’t about to raise any objections, especially since it was his fault Robin had gotten injured in the first place, but that wouldn’t change how protective he could be of his little sister.

Once she was close enough, Lissa knelt down and held her staff out in front of her, keeping it right above Robin’s fingers.

From there, the cleric quietly recited a healing incantation. The jewel on the end of the staff gradually started to glow a dull blue in response to her words, growing brighter and brighter the longer she spoke.

After a few seconds, the cuts began to glow as well.

Robin looked rather enamored as she watched Lissa work, awestruck by how quickly her skin was healing itself.

Although… Lissa herself was somewhat confused. By the time she was done, all that remained was a scar, but… with such a small cut—well, small for someone Robin’s size—she would’ve expected it to heal completely, with no trace left behind. 

Maybe it only matters that the wound is still pretty big for us? Lissa thought. 

Spurred on by that confusion, the cleric absentmindedly reached out and ran a hand along the scar.

No matter how hard Robin tried to keep still, she couldn’t stop her own hand from reflexively twitching in response to such a delicate touch. The sudden movement startled Lissa quite a bit, but not enough to make her pull away. If anything, she couldn’t help but marvel at how surreal it felt. Her entire hand barely even covered the tip of Robin’s finger.

“Is… Is everything alright?” Robin asked after a few seconds passed. 

A part of her almost didn’t want to speak up, fearing that she would ruin the moment. At that point, she probably felt the exact same way as Lissa; equally mesmerized by the sensation of the other girl’s much smaller hand resting against her skin.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry!” Lissa quickly stood up after that, taking a few steps back so she didn’t have to crane her neck as much. “I got a little distracted there,” she admitted somewhat sheepishly.

A subtle smile graced Robin’s lips in response. “That’s okay. I did, too.”

Meanwhile, once his sister wasn’t standing quite so close to Robin anymore, Chrom let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Seeing the look on Robin’s face just then almost made him feel foolish for even worrying in the first place.

“So… I’m assuming you don’t know how you ended up here?” he eventually wondered.

Robin shook her head. “No, I don’t—I’m sorry.”

Chrom almost wanted to object and tell her she didn’t need to apologize again, but he ultimately decided against it.

“Maybe we can help you figure it out,” Lissa offered. “And help you figure out how to get back to normal, too!”

Robin looked more than a little surprised. “R-Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Of course! Us Shepherds always help people in need. Right, Chrom?”

Chrom winced a bit. “Lissa, I’m not sure if we can help,” he said somewhat softly. Not quite a whisper, but not a normal volume either. “She can’t exactly travel with us to the capital without causing a panic.”

“Well, what else are we supposed to do? Just leave her alone in this field?” Lissa countered. “She doesn’t even remember how she got here!”

“I know, but…”

Chrom heaved his third heavy sigh of the day as he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Lissa was right. Again.

No matter how conflicted he felt about this whole situation, his conscience would never allow him to abandon this woman. 

…Even if helping her seemed nearly impossible.

“Alright, alright,” he conceded. Turning to look at Robin, he raised his voice enough for her to hear him. “We… We’ll have to figure things out as we go, but Lissa and I will do everything we can to help you.”

Frederick is going to kill us.

~

Thanks for reading! If you’d like to see more, here’s a link to chapter 2! Just keep in mind that the writing style will be quite a bit different for the rest of the story, though, since all the other chapters are about 5 to 6 years old. 😅

#my writing #fire emblem #fire emblem awakening #g/t #robin #chrom #chrobin #fe chrom #fe robin #over my head #fe13

[titanicfreija]

"I really did."

Freija saw herself sitting on the ground at the First Grave. Sort of herself, anyway. This one sat straighter, more open, and the way she held her head at an angle made her look like she was ready to say something sharp.

"Sarah?"

"Yup," she replied dryly, turning her eyes from the horizon to her Guardian self. "Whether I'm a dream, a spirit or a memory is anyone's guess. But I really did come here to die because of the view. I used my Dead Cat Bounce to break that helmet. I can imagine making it through that shot, 'cos it might have been survivable, if I had close enough access to the right help. I didn't. My left lung was collecting blood. When I started running, I figured I'd come out here because it was a good secret place to get to and would be hard to follow. Then when I got shot, I figured I could push them off the side. Then I figured out that I was gonna die, and I wanted to die somewhere nice, dammit."

Echoes of the memories played out, translucent Sarah, soaked in her own blood and barely breathing, pale and sweating, standing with a jagged rock in her hand, met two more Awoken with a war cry, slamming the rock into the helm of one and immediately being taken down by the second.

Freija sat next to her previous self. "You're a total badass. I knew it, too."

"Thanks," Sarah mumbled. "It didn't feel badass. I was so weak. I couldn't even tell what was happening for so much of it, I kept feeling pain like colors, somehow, I couldn't even see." She breathed slow and deep, and an echo of their battered body appeared lying on the ground.

The pair of Awoken, faceless in black uniforms, lifted and carried the rock that wasn't there a second ago, and they dropped it on the writhing form, who squealed hoarsely.

The murderers vanished, the dying woman rolled the rock off her, but she stopped after that, rolling her head to face the horizon as her body breathed its last.

Freija, getting used to these sorts of dreams, sped the process of decay until only bones remained.

"I didn't want to die," Sarah whispered, and a tear fell. "I wanted to go see the Dreaming City so I could tell all the other Earthborn Awoken about it, and I wanted to teach my kids our dead language, and I wanted..." She forced the sobs down, and Freija felt them in her chest. "But I died. Here. Alone. Beaten to death for being a pacifist. You know I killed fourteen Fallen? On my own? And two fucking humans--I... I didn't have to, but it was the only way I could see at the time to maintain safety. And these crusty sock eaters were pissed 'cos my great grandma tried to get people to go back to the Distributary or some shit, I don't even know."

"I didn't know that," Freija said. "Badass."

Sarah watched the flesh melt away with a sad longing in her eyes. "Right. And killed for being a pacifist. I won't say I didn't wonder if I would become a Guardian, or anyone else in my family, while we were alive. I thought for sure it would be Dad, or maybe Orla. My... our? My little sister. We hated each other." She smirked weakly and sighed again, breathing tears out. "I always wondered how it would go. If the experiences would still count as mine. Now I'm wondering if they would even have counted as mine if I didn't die and simply lost literally all of my memories. If you ran into Risen Orla, if we would still be Orla and Sarah anywhere inside, and we would wanna fight. Or if you'd be Risen Guardian and so would she, and you'd barely notice how much we looked like our father except me and Orla got our lips from our mom."

"Sunny thinks I'm still you in a lot of important ways," Freija offered helpfully. "My nature, she says, came from you. I like things simple and straightforward. I like working with my hands, I woke up with your callouses, so I know you did, too. Stubborn. Protective. Were you good on a sparrow?"

Sarah offered an attempt at a wry smile. "Yeah, but they made me use slow ones. Got the thing for human men and Awoken women?"

Freija blushed and waited for Sarah to look at her before she nodded. "We're shy," she observed. "Do you hate shellfish?"

Freija giggled. "The buggy ones, yeah. Was your favorite color blue?"

"Nah. Red and gold and white." Sarah peeked over at Freija. "You don't like those rapid fire shits, do you? Omolon sidearms were the closest to a full auto I could stand using."

"Nope. Shotguns, hand cannons, scout rifles, and grenade launchers. And swords." Freija smiled at her as the weapons appeared momentarily in the air.

Sarah nodded again. "Kill for... I suppose killing and dying for things isn't a big deal to you. I dunno, what's a thing you find taboo?"

She had to think about it before she finally found an answer. "Trading all my ammo," Freija said with a shrug. "I'd trade my ammo for Rise and Sunny and... That's about it. Rise might have to cope, depending on why it came up. Oh-- more mortals than I think I could save with it."

Sarah narrowed her eyes and Freija caught a cutting glare that reminded Freija more of Sunny than herself somehow. "Well, you're living up to the reputation of Guardian. And here I thought I'd be different."

Freija smiled wryly at herself. "Sometimes that's how it goes. Sunny has that problem, too."

Sarah nodded distantly, and then her brow creased familiarly. "Is Sunny the Ghost? That resurrected... Us? Me? You?"

Freija couldn't have picked the right pronoun, either. "Yeah. Sunny Bunny Sunbeam, I call her when I'm trying to be sweet. I love her. She's like my best friend and my mom and my other half all at once. She's kind and guiding and loving. Insensitive and nosey. I think you'd fight with her, you're coming off that type of combative."

Sarah grinned wide and Freija saw herself in it. "You can smell it, can't you," she laughed. "Probably. Still hate being told what to do?"

"I respect authority. Kinda," Freija said. "I forget when I'm... They call it passionate. Mostly I'm just bad at controlling my temper. But I am getting better."

Sarah's face fell and she turned her eyes back to the dreamscape sunset. "You kept that, huh. The anger."

"It's... intensity," Freija said, wagging her head. "I get as happy as angry. And sad. I just don't handle it well. I'm still learning. Sunny implied kind of loosely that you had a bad temper, but I don't know if you did the same thing with being sad and happy like I do."

Sarah sucked a breath through her nose. "I think I was afraid to be happy," she said softly, and a tear filled her eye. "I wasn't afraid to be angry."

Freija wondered if touching her would make her disappear, or if it would feel like anything.

The bones were buried, and Freija wondered if the projection was imaginary or if some distant part of her could really recall being that kind of dead.

"Would you sacrifice your Light?" Sarah asked. "You said ammo, but your Light?"

Freija hadn't even thought of that. "For Sunny? Yeah. For Rise? No, unless some shit really fucked up. For more mortals than I think I can help with it?" She hesitated, then bit her lips. "I'm not sure how many humans are left on Earth, or anywhere else, but by the time I'm trading my Light for more people than I can help, we're all doomed. I would, but at that point, it's just my Final Death."

"Is that what you call it?"

"Yeah. I call it that for you, too. First and Final." She frowned at her former self as Sarah got to her feet. Freija saw familiarity in the motion, but... something was missing. Strength, will, speed, something. Maybe everything.

Freija got up and brushed herself off. Sarah stared with the same glowing silver eyes, meeting Freija's solidly. A force to be reckoned with, mortal (and dead) or not. The seed of her Self that got stored into the Light that Sunny fueled.

She slouched hard. "I thought it would be Dad," she said, another tear filling her eye. "I didn't even... nothing about when I died... I didn't think about being a Guardian. I was sorry I left Millie. I was sorry I ran away from the party, that I couldn't fight back. That I got chased and let them see me enough to shoot me." She sighed and the rage grew visibly, tensing her jaw and furrowing her brow as she snarled and spun away. "It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair! I didn't do anything to them! I didn't even live here! And they hunted me on this fucking cliff the whole fucking way and they smashed me with a rock! What the fuck?!"

Freija didn't know how to comfort her, and she could only watch as the ghost of her first self whirled in the space, losing pieces of her image as she sped up. "It wasn't fair!"

The echo froze in place as the image of Sunny drifted into the cove, appearing from nothing outside the mists. The white-clad Ghost scanned the area with broad sweeps as she went. She paused for a moment to look at a pretty slab of amethyst, and she almost ventured on, until she stopped dead. Slowly, she began to rotate, and she ventured back to the cove, double checking everything.

Just as Sunny had to look nine hundred years for someone that wouldn't be born for eight hundred of them, Sarah had to be smashed by a rock in a tiny cove off a cliff along the Devalian Mists that night. No, it wasn't fair. It was just how things had to go.

Sunny's shell kept changing shapes, from the first to a crucible counter to Neon Helix to Dawning Lotus to Hareball, but she seemed to be following Sunny's story despite.

No sounds came from the Ghost except quiet electrical buzzes and whirs as she scanned with increasing desperation, catching segments of the bones in her ray but apparently not focusing enough on any part to recognize them.

"And then I'm not even who got up, you are," Sarah whimpered, watching Sunny circle, lost, getting faster with her petals all but flying off.

"If you lost all your memories, would you still be you?" Freija asked.

Sarah didn't answer, watching Sunny with pain etched deep, her body beginning to glow blue. "It's not fair," she whimpered.

"We had to die to rise," Freija whispered.

Sarah flung herself backward and stomped and shook her fists, but she didn't scream. Instead, her voice got quiet. "I didn't want to rise. I wanted to die and stay dead. I wanted a long life with children and grandchildren. I wanted to see the world cleaned up, and unpoisoned. I never would have imagined the Fallen and the Cabal in the tower, but..." She drifted off as the Ghost shot to the space between the wall and the still blood-covered rock, scanning the corpse's grave over and over. "Orla was supposed to get up, dammit. She wanted to, she wanted to fight, she wanted to start fights, she dreamed of being a Guardian and being able to storm in and take out everything that dared point a gun at us, and she wouldn't shut up about how much she'd love using lightning to zap every Spider Tank in existence. She just knew she'd be a Warlock."

Freija didn't say anything-- she'd never heard a mortal talk about it like that, even the echo of one. They only ever talked about having their dead loved ones rising, and Freija already knew that was worse than permadeath.

"And I didn't want to be a Guardian. I said that which is dead is meant to be dead. I said if I got up as a Guardian, I was only going to actually Guard people. None of this thing where we hear about one of you going on rampages, not going out and looking for fights like Orla wanted to."

Freija didn't say anything to that, either, but all the same, she felt the tightness of stifled sobs in her chest. Sarah's shoulders shuddered, and she faced away, stomping to the wall to press her head there.

The corpse that would soon wake and be Freija had flesh, now. The Ghost had meticulously scanned and begun construction, taking her time with what must have been every single layer of cell tissue.

"Millie knew I would, though, and she knew I'd be a Titan," whimpered Sarah, voice muffled behind her arm and the cliff. "She said I was her Titan one time, 'cos I held this stupid fucking roadsign up to be a shield for us to block off a shitload of explosions, and I almost caved 'cos my shoulder was fucked up and I had to use my head, and the sign got so fucking hot, it burned my face so bad and all the way up my arms, but I held it. Some actual Titans swept in just in time. I liked to think I was half grown, but Millie didn't even have tits yet, I couldn't have been twenty."

"You're such a badass," Freija said, and she let Sarah's tears flow for her. "You can rest. I'll fight."

"We're fighting," said Sarah. She rocked off the wall to watch the image of Sunny and newly-Risen Freija. They vanished, leaving the twin dreams alone. They looked to one another and their eyes locked. Even the dream of Sarah held the firestorm within.

Sarah shot forward, running at Freija, who stood ready to catch her except that the ghost went right through--into--her. Her feet left the ground as if she'd been tackled by a Legionary and she flew off into nothing.

The falling sensation startled her awake and Freija gasped, then groaned. "Sarah, if you keep fucking with me like this, I'm gonna make a little doll, and I'm gonna name it Sarah, and I'm gonna make you live in it."

"Sarah?" Sunny asked.

"Happy Found-My-Guardian-Day, Sunny," Freija groaned, rolling out of bed. "I love you."

@annieruok94

#destiny 2 #d2 #ocs #writing #freija #scribble #sunny #Rising Day

[prettywhenibleed]

𝕳𝖊'𝖘 𝕬𝖑𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖞 𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖉 (He's Already Dead)

Pt 1

G/nReader x Poly!Lost Boys

Okay so this is going to have a part 2 and maybe more.

Again, feedback is really appreciated as I’m just starting out.

TW: language, harassment against reader, mentions of killing someone(duh, vampires)

I’ve been friends with the boys for almost a year now and I’ve never been happier. I never really had friends growing up and my family isn’t exactly the best. So when I met Paul, Dwayne, Marko and David, I was ecstatic to finally find some people that actually cared about me and were really fun to hang around. It was a few months before they told me about them being vampires and obviously that caught me off guard at first. But I guess it made sense as to why I only saw them at night and why they would go off in pairs for a bit whenever we hung out. Of course I accepted what they were and it felt like we all became that little bit closer after.

Before I found out about them being vampires, I had realised I had fallen for them and even after they told me, my feelings didn’t change. Maybe it’s because they were just so nice to me. They were the first people to show me really any kindness. But as time went on, I realised it was just them. The way Paul and Marko would always be joking around, telling me jokes to try and get me to laugh. The way I could just sit with Dwayne for hours and read together, happily just being in each other’s presence. The way David could just wrap an arm around my shoulders and pull me close to him when he could sense that I was feeling anxious on the boardwalk and instantly make me feel more at ease. When they would look at me and I would feel so overcome with feelings of safety and belonging. Feelings I never felt with anyone else. That’s when I knew that I was in love with them. For just being so.. them.

It was a night like most nights on the boardwalk. We were just hanging out around their bikes, talking, joking around. “Hey, I’m going to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” I told them. “I’ll come with.” Paul said, jumping down from the railing he was sitting on. “That’s sweet Paul, but I think I can manage going to the bathroom on my own.” I told him with an amused look. “Aw come on sugar. It’s not safe for you to be walking around on your own.” He told me, slinging his arm around my shoulders. “I’m pretty sure the only thing I would have to be worried about around here, is you guys. But as far as I’m aware, you don’t plan on eating me.” I said with a laugh. “I don’t know babe. You’re looking pretty tasty to me.” Marko said with a smirk, causing the others to respond with their own grins. I rolled my eyes and looked at Marko. “Ha ha. Now. Can I go to the bathroom please?” I said. Not really waiting for a response as I started walking away.

Well, would you look at that. I was able to go to the toilet without their help. I said to myself as I made my way out of the bathroom. As I was heading back to the boys, some guy came up to me. The second I saw him, I got a bad feeling. Shit. Okay. Just ignore him and he’ll go away, I told myself, picking up my pace. Unfortunately, that didn’t work. “Hey baby, where you going to in a rush?” He asked. I said nothing and just kept walking. “You know, it’s rude to ignore someone when they’re talking to you.” He said, his tone darkening. “Please just leave me alone.” I told him. He got in front of me to stop me from walking away. “How about you come and hangout with me and my boys, hmm. We could show you a real good time baby.” He said, grabbing my arm. “No.” I tried to pull my arm away, but his grip was tight. “I wasn’t asking.” Fear ran through me as I looked at him. I started to panic and looked around for help, but nobody was taking any notice of my situation. Just as the tears were threatening to fall, I heard a familiar voice behind me. “I believe they said they dont want to go with you.” David. I felt myself relax a bit, knowing that now, I was safe. Marko and Paul joined David at his side and Dwayne ripped the guy away from me, shoving him to the ground. “You keep your fucking hands off of them.” He said in a low growl. I’d never heard his voice sound so dark and angry like that before. The guy must have know that they weren’t people to mess with, as he scrambled to his feet and ran off. “You okay prince/ss?” Dwayne asked as he came over to me. “Yeah, yeah I’m okay. Thanks.” I said in a shaky voice. “Don’t worry about him babe.” Marko said. “Yeah, he won’t be a problem anymore.” Paul added. David leaned into my ear. “He’s already dead and he doesn’t even know it.” He whispered. I turned to look at him. He just smirked and offered me his arm. I linked my arm with his and we walked back to the bikes.

And they were right. His face was on a missing persons poster the next time i went to meet the boys at the boardwalk.

Spam liking without reblogging = blocked

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #dwayne tlb #marko tlb #david tlb #paul tlb #the lost boys marko #the lost boys paul #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #gn reader #poly lost boys x reader #poly lost boys #poly lost boys x oc #alex winter #brooke mccarter #kiefer sutherland #billy wirth #fanfic #PWIBfic

[tragedy-for-sale]

Golden

He had a golden laugh, when the sun on his hair, it was golden, his eyes, though blue, had flecks of golds that simmered when one cared to noticed. Even in the dark, when light hit him, it was golden. He was golden.

↼┈┈┈┈❂┈┈┈┈⇀

Cody never noticed this light, or rather, he didn't let himself notice it. For if he did, like he had right now, he'd get distracted. He got distracted. General Kenobi was laughing over something silly, a glass of gin in his hand. General Kenobi was never 'on-edge,' the general was always rather calm, but he was also always composed. Which is why this moment struck Cody curious. His General, patient, understanding, and all the good things in this galaxy, was also, right now, not collected.

Cody knew his general would feel embarrassed instantly if a Jedi such as General Koon or Mundi walked in, for his hair had fallen out of place, his robes were a bit shuffled, and how could Cody forget the second glass of gin? Cody was in the business of watching, with his helmet on he knew it was safe for him to study his general. If only for safety. Deep down Cody knew staring at his General's chest, where his skin had been exposed from his shuffled robes served no purpose, but that doesn't mean he'd stop.

"Oh, Anakin, that's ridiculous-" Obi-Wan chuckled, taking another drink, "If we attack from the south while your men come from the west, we trap them. All we'll need is a flight squad ready for the ridge-" battle plans.

"But it's reckless, Master, I mean, I guess I'm down for it, if you think it'll work?" Anakin asked, refilling his glass and topping off Obi-Wan's, "I could get Rex and a few of his boys some jetpacks, let 'em go wild?"

"Anakin, regardless of what we do, your men will inevitably go wild. So, my plan?" Obi-Wan smiled, taking a drink in satisfaction. He had hoped Anakin would agree, but he never had any doubt he wouldn't.

"It's a plan."

Cody stood there, listening to the Generals chat for what seemed like hours. But their chats had little coherency to anyone except the two of them. Cody didn't care though, he'd wait until General Kenobi was ready for bed because his General was no doubt drunk, which meant, for the General's safety, Cody would have to escort Obi-Wan to his quarters. What if he fell and someone other than Cody caught him? He couldn't have that.

"-Alright, Anakin, goodnight." Obi-Wan's voice cut through, catching Cody's attention. He stiffened to attention as Obi-Wan walked towards him. Cody felt a feeling, one of excitement as he saw Obi-Wan, disheveled and tired. "Commander? You're still awake?"

"Yes, Sir,"

"Well, you should be sleeping, come now, let's go." Obi-Wan needn't say another word. Cody felt his heart jump as he followed, too giddy to say a word. Cody wondered if Obi-Wan could sense his excitement just to be walking with him, but he figured he was the last thing on Obi-Wan's mind. Even though Obi-Wan was the only thing on Cody's mind.

They made small talk while walking back, Cody wouldn't remember about what, but he would remember Obi-Wan's laugh, patting Cody on the shoulder and tripping, tripping on his robe and Cody catching him. Cody catching him and freezing as he looked down to Obi-Wan, in his arms, looking up at him. "You must be more careful, General," Cody said as if it was instinct, he felt himself fill with a slight dread as he wished had hadn't said that.

Obi-Wan smiled, a giddy little chuckle following. "I suppose you're right," the two lingered here for a moment, Obi-Wan in Cody's arms, neither of the two minded. "But if you're here, I know you'll pick up where I lack."

"You don't lack anything general," Cody blurted, "You're perfect-" Cody felt his face heat, shifting to help Obi-Wan to stand again, "I mean, you're very careful, sir, and an excellent general, you fill your role very well.." Cody babbled as he felt himself grow very hot, ashamed.

But Obi-Wan was always understanding, so he smiled, thinking Cody's words sweet. Cody was golden, in Obi-Wan's eyes, Cody's brown eyes absorbed the sunlight as if it was his, shimmering in his eyes and dancing down his skin. Cody was Golden, beyond value to Obi-Wan, he'd fight a war for his Commander, to him, there was no treasure like the man walking him back to his quarters. There was no one, like Cody. "-Alright General, here we are." Cody spoke, opening the door for his General.

"Thank you, Cody," Obi-Wan smiled as he walked into his room before turning around and it was here they froze.

Perhaps they kissed as the two stood in the doorway. Obi-Wan might've pulled Cody into his room by his belt, kissing him gently as he did. Everything he did, he did it perfectly. But perhaps they didn't, so when Cody blinked, they were back where they left off, the two of them standing in the doorway, Obi-Wan looking down to Cody, waiting. Both had something they wanted to do, needed to do, but neither of the did, for neither of them could.

The silence between them had started to drive Cody crazy, this wasn't the first time Cody walked his General back to his quarters, hoping for the same thing every time. But nothing ever happened. Nothing ever happened. Cody grit his teeth, he was a soldier, programmed to be brave, so why the fuck was this so hard? Cody took a step forward, Obi-Wan didn't move, "General," Cody spoke in a whisper, he felt a shiver run up his spine as Obi-Wan leaned in to hear him better.

"Yes, Commander?" Obi-Wan whispered back, so close that Cody could feel Obi-Wan's breath hot on his skin.

Cody shifted as he tried to remember how to think, how to walk away, but Obi-Wan was waiting, and Cody knew he'd keep waiting for Cody. "I-" He looked over to Obi-Wan, his face so close to his, so close he could kiss him. So close Cody did kiss him. His heart pounded in his chest as Obi-Wan kissed him back. Obi-Wan kissed him back, he was gentle and soft and wonderful and- Cody pulled away, their eyes met instantly, Cody opened his mouth, he knew what he wanted to do, but he knew what he had to do instead. "I- I'm sorry sir, I-"

"Cody-" Obi-Wan inturrupted, instantly he understood. He always understood. "I know." Was all he said, for it was all he needed to say. For Cody knew what Obi-Wan did, they shouldn't have done that, but they did, and neither regretted it. "...Goodnight, Commander."

"Goodnight, General," Cody looked up before nodding. There was nothing else to say. Cody turned to walk away, glancing back to see Obi-Wan watching him walk away. There was a universe where Obi-Wan ran after him, kissing him and bringing Cody home to him. But that was not that universe. Cody walked away and Obi-Wan closed his door.

As he walked, Cody couldn't say he necessarily felt upset that they hadn't done more, because he felt a certain hope that it would happen again. And when it did, perhaps then they'd do more. But right now, Cody felt giddy, excited for something new, something new with Obi-Wan.

Cody felt a pang in his heart, an explosion of butterflies that shook him down to his core. The feeling of something he'd never felt before. The feeling of love. He loved this feeling, though he was scared, he loved the fear almost as much as he loved this feeling, because they went hand-in-hand. As Cody walked away, everything flashed again and again in his mind, everything they just did, the feeling of it all, Cody remembered, and as he stepped into the lift, he realized that he'd fallen like a fool. Falling like a fool in love because he was in love, he was in love with Obi-Wan and Cody couldn't help but to wonder,

If he loved him too

↼┈┈┈┈❂┈┈┈┈⇀

#the two are forever pining for each other #the forever longing for each other where everyone knows they love each other except the two of them #they both know they love each other but don't know if the other loves them too #spoiler #they do #codywan #star wars #clones #clone wars #tcw #sw #commander cody #obi-wan kenobi

[uncle-dusknoir]

Mild, serious and hardy for the ask game!

- @withoutatrace-pkmn

this took way longer to answer than i expected it to

mild - on a scale of 1 to 10, how patient are you?

uuuuh like a fucking. 2, maybe?? i am not patient. i don't think i am, anyway. not with other people, at least. with pokemon, usually (thyme and skorna do not count) but if i dont have to be patient i will not be

serious - what kinds of topics do you never joke around with?

questions i assume they ask in therapy #27493

i... don't... know? i joke about a lot of shit. if i don't joke about things i think i will go actually insane. i guess, like... i dunno, basic safety. don't get crushed inside of old collapsing ruins kids

hardy - what's a pretty tough situation that you and/or your pokemon managed to get out of?

... it's not too late, yet. i think i have enough time for a story.

this is when i was... eighteen, i think. at that point i had toothy and skorna, and Toothy was still a Linoone. this is very late in our traveling- right before everything happened and i moved back to Unova.

we were in sinnoh, funny enough. the last major city we were in was Eterna, but we had gone to the underground- so we could have been almost anywhere at that point. Thyme had heard rumors that there was some sort of ruins under the city, and as always, I was gonna go with him.

by giratina, we were exhausted. even back then when i was still in shape, it was just... though thyme never showed it. i hated it, sometimes, that stupid grin on his face. i guess that's the one good thing about him being a dusknoir, he can't grin-

that's. off topic.

We'd set up a little camp in a small cave we found; I thought it was something left from the stream of miners. It just looked like it had been torn from the side of the wall, as if something had reached into the earth and pulled it out like a child digging holes with their hands. it seemed safe enough, stable enough; and after all, barely any pokemon lived down there. we were fine.

we woke up to the sound of something rumbling, and for a minute, i thought that we had fallen asleep in an onix's mouth, because the cave looked like it was starting to close in. which is, you know, Not Fucking Great, considering at that time all we had was my linoone, thyme's banette who was asleep in her pokeball, and a shitty dead bird that lived in my brain; so i do, you know, the first thing i could think of, which is try and Stop The Cave In With My Bare Hands.

(my shoulders are still a little fucked up from that)

toothy, my son, suddenly DARTS past me like a bullet, and right before me and thyme are caved in, manages to escape. he's my son so my first thought, obviously, is 'well at least one of us is gonna survive' before i hear the sound of something getting its ass absolutely whooped, and then something really bright flashing through the rocks, and then the rocks shattering into god damn dust

little motherfucker whooped the ass of what i can only assumed to be someone's released Rampardos before Evolving and Brick Breaking us out of there!! the only thing im sad about is that i didnt get to see him actually evolve, but a small price to pay for Being Alive

#storytime with basil #pokeblogging #rotumblr #ask game #ask meme #basilblogging

[mawofthemagnetar]

TFC stares into his coffee, watching as the steam curls up into the cool air of his mine.

It’s quiet, down there amid the flickering torches. There isn’t much to interrupt the peace.

His ancient coffee machine has fallen silent, its roars and gargles no longer echoing off the walls. Now it’s just a matter of waiting for his drink to cool.

He blows on his coffee, letting the steam disperse, taking a sip. Strong black coffee, just the way he likes it.

There’s a creaking from the ladder, and TFC turns to glance up it.

 A green armoured boot descends into his mine, and he reclines in his chair, watching as Xisuma steps onto the expertly-dug stone.

“TFC! How are you, my friend?” Xisuma says, and TFC smiles.

“I’m not too bad.” He chuckles, “Coffee?”

Xisuma tilts his head as TFC slides a mug across the table.

“You know I drink tea.” Xisuma says primly, taking the mug and holding it up to the drinking port on his helmet.

“Yep.” TFC says with a smile, taking another sip and staring at one of the flickering torches. Watching the fire bounce and dance, the oranges and whites flashing away. 

There’s a slurp as Xisuma drinks, his eyes watering in revulsion.

He says nothing.  

It’s quiet.

For awhile.

“So. What brings you down here?” TFC asks plainly, breaking the silence, and Xisuma smiles, his eyes crinkling up behind the purple faceplate.

“Just…checking up on you. Making sure you didn’t burrow deep enough to wake a Balrog.” He jokes, and TFC smiles.

“No, no. You know me, X. I’m down here, just…being. There’s a peace to it, you know.” He says, gesturing at his diamond tools.

“I always found mining to be…pretty tedious.” Xisuma says plainly, “Never my favourite thing…”

TFC shakes his head.

“That’s cause you don’t get it. It’s peace and safety and a lot else besides. It’s not about the diamonds, X. It never was. You know?”

“…Maybe.” Xisuma says softly.

TFC takes another sip of his coffee. It’s the perfect temperature.

“You dig and you dig, and with each stroke, you make something beautiful. There’s a peace down here you don’t get up top. Climbing high, building vast, it’s fun, sure. But it’s…it’s a peak you strive for, you know? And you’re always chasing that dragon, chasing the next high…course, I could be off my rocker, as usual. I don’t know. But I do know that when you’re down here in the deeps, it all feels…calm.”

“A ship on the ocean?” Xisuma offers.

“Sort of, yeah.”

Silence, again.

“Didn’t mean to talk your ear off, sorry.” TFC says with a wry smile.

“No, no. It’s alright.” Xisuma says, “Uh, but I do…I think you should check your comm a bit more often, though.”

“Hmm?” TFC slaps his pocket, eyes going wide. His comm’s not there. He turns to look at the shelf his coffee machine is resting on, and there, tucked behind the coffee can, is the communicator.

“Ah.” TFC says, reaching over and grabbing it. He blows the dust off, and chuckles, “The beeping must have got to me. Darn thing never shuts up, you know?”

Xisuma nods, taking another sip of his coffee and shuddering. He puts the mug down with a clink against TFC’s small table.

“Been a few weeks, that’s all.” Xisuma says gently, “People were getting worried about you.”

“People?” TFC echoes, quirking an eyebrow. He switches his communicator on, the screen lighting up, and his status lighting up green- inactive to active.

There’s a handful of PM’s in his inbox. Not a ton- the hermits know that he likes his privacy- but there’s a fair few. He scrolls through them, eyes widening a little.

Mostly just hermits saying hello. 

A few- not many, but a few- asking how he’s doing. 

They know him too well for anything more. 

“Oh.” He says, “I just…oh.”

“Yeah.” Xisuma smiles, “We worry about you, you know.”

“Yeah.” TFC says quietly.

He sips his coffee and stares into space.

“I guess I just…abandoned it on the table there and forgot about it. Sorry.” He says with a wry smile.

Xisuma nods.

“Happens to the best of us.”

And they both go quiet.

TFC swallows the last drops of his coffee, sitting back in his ancient chair, staring into the depths of his mine.

A smile on his face, soft, contemplative.

“Want to come digging with me, X?” he offers.

“…Yeah, alright.” Xisuma agrees.  

#Magnetar writes #I spent a long time debating if I should post this or not #I've decided I will.

[wafflebloggies]

10. a heap of broken images

back - next “So, Mark, this is Jared…”

Mark, it had to be said, did not look as if a large, near-invisible shadow-creature looming up out of the darkness and regarding him with a trio of eyes like the functional parts of a red-hot gas stove was a welcome addition to the list of concepts he was already struggling to grasp. He stared up at Jared in speechless silence, and when Jared’s eyes gave a friendly tilt, dropped several feet and whipped towards him, he sucked in a breath so sharp that Antonio was concerned he might have inhaled his own tongue.

“Look who it is! Double-M-hockey-sticks! It’s cool, we go waaaay back.”

“Uh?” managed Mark.

“Oh, yeah-yeah-yeah, I’ve been watching you for what, like, a year now?”

Mark made a noise.

“Gotta say, you’re taller IRL,” said Jared, happily. “Probably a perspective thing, right? Also way better res, which, like, no joke, literally every single cam in your house is ANCIENT at this point. Stone age. I kept bugging ya boy to replace them- no hate, ‘Tone- I was like, hey, I’m just your eye in the sky here, it’s not like I can just snap my fingers and your actual hardware gets upgraded with the power of heart or whatever. But he was always like... oh, hey, you good?”

This last, because Mark had just sat down suddenly with a thump, his knees having apparently decided they were even less keen on the way this conversation was going than the rest of him.

“It’s okay, Mark,” said Antonio, coaxingly. “Jared monitors all the hosts, twenty-four-seven. It wasn’t just you.”

When Mark finally found his voice, it was quite a lot shriller than usual. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

Antonio thought about it, reaching for Mark’s backpack, which had fallen off his shoulder as they’d scrambled inside the door. “I mean, yeah, it was, but I guess I can see why it doesn’t. Jared, hey, uh… I know this is kind of a big ask, but…”

Popping the inner zip, he upended the backpack over the nearest free desk. With a slithering scuffle of plastic wrappers, a small landslide of bright packages and baggies slid and tumbled over each other into a rough pile on the dusty melamine surface.

“We need a way out.”

Jared’s eyes gleamed. A long slender thing, like a steely finger with far too many joints, snickered indistinctly past Mark’s ear and pinned one of the little packets (a crowded graphic-design abomination, featuring sugegasa-wearing cows somersaulting cheerfully through flames), whipping it up into the shadows.

“Buddy, just call me Healthy Community, because I have got you COVERED.”

–-

Where there was a will- and an entire bodega rack’s worth of premium dried beef products- it turned out there was a way.

Jared called them dead zones. The cameras covered almost everywhere within the HR Department, Jared’s endless ranks of shiny black eyes, in corners, in ceilings, down blind alleys and empty rooms and well-trodden corridors, but with care and a little assistance to even out the odds, a path could be walked between them. The places between were cramped and confusing and nearly as difficult to travel as they would have been to find without Jared’s help. They were not the safest places, even within this hungry, malignant landscape, and they certainly weren’t the easiest to explain.

Here was a well of dank air, some fifty feet across, stirred in a slow, endless spiral by the movement of some enormous fan or turbine, deep enough below that it was far out of sight of any travellers along the narrow path that spanned it, a clanking catwalk of green steel. Condensation dripped from the pale heights, made the metal slimy underfoot.

Mark managed a couple of wobbly steps out over the void, then slid to his knees against the spindly safety rail, a sad arrangement of metal rods and chickenwire which overall came off as less of a barrier than a polite suggestion. Antonio, following with a surer step, resisted the urge to hook a fistful of the back of his sweater, just in case. He didn’t think Mark was likely to actually pitch himself over the railing, but he did appreciate that the last twenty or so minutes had been quite a lot for any human to handle.

“Hang in there, Mark,” he said, brightly. His voice echoed, a thin distant relay pattering back to them through the slow whirlpool of air. “Not much further.”

Mark forced his hands wordlessly through his hair, found a squashed fragment of delicate orange wing stuck somewhere over his ear, and flicked it away from him in disgust.

“Uh, yeah, sorry about the butterflies,” said Antonio. “Honestly, they’re usually pretty chill, I’ve never seen them just go for the eyes like that.”

Words weren’t evading Mark, but the ability to put more than two of them next to each other in a coherent sentence seemed to be. “That- the- why-” A struggle. “Why a horse??”

“It’s just a horse, Mark,” said Antonio, testing the railing before leaning his elbows on it, like a casual sightseer above Niagara Falls.

Mark clearly felt this wasn’t enough information. He made another struggle with his hands, shaping a sort of invisible sculpture on the theme of horror, bewilderment, and indignation, a shape that cut off sharply in the middle, and then squeezed both palms into his eyesockets, speaking indistinctly through his fingers.

“Just a- just- where’s the rest of it??”

“Do you think that’s really an important question right now?” asked Antonio. He meant it as a reasonable, honest query, but Mark only fixed him with a baleful eye through the gap in his hands, and said nothing.

They moved on. Through the empty hallways, through Jared’s dead zones, through a scorched and blackened sector where quite a mess had been made and the cameras still hung obliterated from the walls, Mark stayed silent. To Antonio, there was something puzzling- increasingly worrying- about this measured silence, and he didn’t think it was just the influence of his own quietly screaming nerves. He was good at reading Mark, even when he was at his most impenetrable, and he recognised this feeling of grim, plodding pertinacity that was coming off him in waves. This was Mark doing something he didn’t want to do- something he knew had no good object, no good ending- something he knew had to be done, regardless. He might as well have been making a video reading hate-comments, or cutting up raw liver, or any other uncongenial, unrewarding task demanded of him by the Muse. He looked as sullen and morose as ever, trailing along after Antonio as they travelled slowly through the safer zones of the HR Department. The nearest he got to an energetic reaction to anything on their long walk was a slight flinch and glance back as they heard the dogs pass distantly down a blind turning, the heavy patter of claws, the hungry, cheated howls.

Finally, the Long Egress. Jared had explained, in the vague way in which Jared tended to explain anything, that this seemingly endless grey concrete tunnel had been put in place as a sort of evacuation line, a last-ditch way back to the outside world. Walking it, Antonio wondered if the original architect might have planned on using it themselves, since it was quite clear that nobody else ever had. Whoever had designed the vast building that housed HR, if they had been human, it was a fairly safe assumption to make that they hadn’t done it entirely of their own free will.

It’s best to avoid asking questions or looking at things you aren’t authorised to see.

The bulkhead lights set into the walls every hundred yards or so created pale dim pools of light like so many oases, leading them from one to the next, all the way down the long last straight. Down here, even the lights were caged.

It’s all in my head, and I shouldn’t worry about it.

Antonio felt that they had been walking for years by the time they reached the end. His shoes had run out of moisture and left no prints on the scratchy poured concrete. Every step he took felt leaden, a further pull away from something dragging gently at him, something hooked into his heart-roots, difficult to ignore. They had been walking in silence, the only sounds the scrape and echo of their steps, the thick electric hum of the lights, a quieter low static buzz that seemed to live in the walls, and Mark’s difficult breathing and occasional hitching cough. Antonio didn’t mind these noises, as it made it easy for him to know that Mark was still behind him.

No ceremony, no fanfare, just a flat final wall that grew slowly from a pale dot to a short grey oblong as they walked towards it, a last pool of light, the long hallway terminating in a single pale grey door. Someone with a sense of humour had screwed a sign to it, an ordinary industrial yellow-and-black safety sign that read DANGER – KEEP OUT. Someone else had scrawled underneath; IT’S SCARY OUT THERE.

Antonio put a hand on the door, which had a thick push-bar, wreathed in old cobwebs and cranky with disuse. He looked back, and saw that Mark had stopped a little way back along the hallway and was just standing there in the last-but-one pool of light, looking at him.

“Mark? This is it, buddy, come on.”

Mark coughed, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and didn’t move.

“Mark?” Antonio stepped away from the door. As he moved towards Mark, Mark stepped back, mirroring him. He put a hand to the strap of his backpack, gripping it like a rosary, and suddenly Antonio felt a cold and eerie twinge of deja vu, of a week ago, of standing in the soft-lit hallway with Be Joyful Always, Pray Continually over his head as Mark begged him in a quiet, frantic monotone, pleaded, promised anything for his freedom.

I've done everything you've asked. You can have my channel, my house... just let me go.

Just now, it looked as if nothing could have been further from Mark’s mind.

“You must think I’m pretty fucking stupid,” he said.

Antonio stopped. The bug in his middle, which had been quiet for a time, stirred restlessly as he looked across the distance between them into Mark’s sharp, careworn face.

“So what is it?” Mark put out a hand and rested it against the concrete wall, either to take some of his weight or to reassure himself it was there. The flat light cast stark double-shadows, Antonio’s own falling across the door at his back and stretching down the hallway towards Mark, Mark’s slanting away as if it was shrinking from his. “What’s the trick? Because this whole ‘super secret escape’ thing is getting really old now. Maybe I’d have fallen for it when I was five but if you think I believe you’re just going to let me walk out of here, that sludge in your head must be way past expiry.”

“Mark, you have to trust me,” said Antonio. “I’m- I’m just trying to help you.”

Mark blinked a couple of times, grinned at him, in the same way skulls grinned, nothing behind it but a vacant stretch of teeth. Whether Antonio had struck a nerve, or Mark had just reached some internal breaking point, he dropped his hand from the wall and started walking forwards.

“Trust you. Trust you? You, and that- that thing in my basement- my muse-”

The sheer amount of pure spitting venom he managed to inject into one syllable was astonishing.

“-you’re the same. You’re the same thing, you’re just a- a part of that fucking blob that can walk around and look like a person. I knew that as soon as you first showed up- you think I’m going to trust you now?” He stopped, almost face to face with Antonio, his fear and aversion and bitter anger struggling with each other in his face, his hands curled around his backpack in front of him as if it was a shield.

“Mark, I- I’ve felt- I’ve been-”

Now it was Antonio’s turn to struggle. His chest was crawling, the heat in his face and hands rising, the difficulty squirming under his skin pushing him not to shut Mark up or stop him being a problem but to explain, to try to dispel the terrible disdain in Mark’s eyes. He stumbled on, aware his voice sounded choked and strange, terribly afraid to keep going but far, far more afraid to stop.

“When you were gone, I… I started to feel... different. I’ve been feeling... really weird. Mark, I have… thoughts that don’t make sense- sometimes I don’t want things to happen even though I know I should, I don’t want to do things I know I have to do- I think there’s something wrong with me. No, I- I know there is.” He held out his hands, open, pleading. “I don’t know what happened, but I- I know somehow, it started because of you.”

He swallowed.

“I’m different, I’m different to how I was, because of you. And I want to- I want to be a good friend, Mark. I’m doing this because I… I want to help you.”

“Bullshit,” said Mark.

Oh, it felt cold, it felt freezing cold in his guts and it hurt, and maybe this was how come humans could hurt each other so easily, that Mark could take every honest, vulnerable word he’d pulled painstakingly out of the core of him, these fragile little things ripped out of their shell new and raw and utterly defenceless, and hurl them so easily right back in his face. Antonio felt them start to shrivel and die in the chasm between them, but he kept quiet and just looked at Mark, who was knotting his fists in the fabric of his backpack, his jaw set hard, mouth slightly open, eyes hot and full of contempt.

“Mark,” he tried, “please, you have to-“

“No, I don’t. I actually fucking don’t, I don’t have to do anything. I don’t have to believe a single word you say. I listened to you for a year. I let you manipulate me, I danced like your fucking puppet, I did everything you wanted, for a year. I let-” He bit the word off.

“Mark, I haven’t even known you for a y-“

“Shut up,” said Mark, his voice deadly and as flat as the lights. “You can’t hurt me anymore. Not with my- my mom, not with-” He stopped himself again, his mouth working. “There’s nothing left, the only thing you have on me is this- this shit inside of me, this-” He let the pack dangle to the bruised fold of his elbow and held out his arms, wordless, the flat bulkhead light ghastly on his darkened veins, the black splatters of the dog’s blood and his own still staining the front of his ruined sweater. “This- this infection, this mold, I- I can feel it, I hear it in my head-” He shuddered, furiously, helplessly. “If- if you wanted to help me you’d get rid of it but you won’t, you won’t because the only thing you want is to keep me, keep stringing me along for whatever sick fucking plan-”

“Okay, but I’d need to touch you.”

“-shut up- whatever sick- whatever-” Mark seemed to hit a kind of a glitch, sticking like a scratched-up record and stopping in place. He blinked a little volley of dazed blinks, a rapid-fire Morse code message of utter confusion. “What?”

“Here,” said Antonio, holding out his hands. “I think I can do it, at least I can try. It’s just, you told me not to touch you.”

Mark stared at him in disbelief, his hands falling to his sides. He looked poleaxed. The backpack slipped gently down his arm, dropping to the ground at his feet, but he made no sign he even noticed.

“And you listened??”

For the first time, Antonio saw with stark clarity the shape of himself as he must have appeared to Mark through the past almost-year. A looming shadow, a threatening, suffocating, hounding, malicious, grinning thing that never rested and never relented, if the deal Mark had made with his Muse was a poisoned spring, Antonio had been the hand forcing him under the rank surface, forcing him to drink until he drowned.

Months too late, without words to even form the idea, he was desperately sorry. The thing in his chest- bug, alien, sickness or mistake- it was his, his guilt, his to fight and deny or accept, and for once, the choice was his own.

“I know I don’t have any right to ask you to trust me.” He kept holding out his hands, palms up, looking into Mark’s face where incredulity was fighting a pitched battle with something else, something Antonio wasn’t sure he’d ever seen there before.

“Please, Mark,” he said, quietly. “Just let me try.”

The lights hummed, the walls buzzed. Mark stood still in silence for so long that Antonio started to wonder if he’d frozen again, but at last he started to move. There was no great change in his expression, no lessening of the fear in his eyes or the clear mistrust in the thin downwards line of his mouth. As he moved, it seemed to be in spite of himself than out of any thinking, reasoning decision.

Slowly, without looking away from Antonio’s face, Mark lifted his hand and reached out.

#muse arg #dftm #don't feed the muse #mark mayhew #antonio geist #alex bale #jared the IT guy #my writing #the cynical critic #this part kicked my ass

[crawlthesky]

Digimon Survive Profiles

So there’s a “profile” option in the menu where you can view more info about Takuma and the gang. Thought it was a cute little idea, so I went ahead and typed it up for referencing down the line. More for my own convenience than anything, but maybe other people will like having it...? idk

I’ve personally only played through 2 routes so far, so there might be some minor updates in the future when I get through the other ones. That being said: spoilers for the game itself and all of its routes are behind the cut, so click at your own risk.

Name: Takuma Momozuka Age: 14 Height: 166 cm Weight: 52.3kg Blood Type: A

Reason for Joining: "The mountain air will do you good," claimed Takuma's mom, leading him to join the camping trip. The boy knew well that he'd be doing something significant by studying history in a place far from the city, but in all honestly he lacked any real motivation to do so. This was his attitude, for better or worse. He lacked any strong feelings about the task—not caring enough to even consider it a pain. "Just get through a few days of the program, and I'll be back to my old life." With this mentality, Takuma headed for the camp.

Episode 1: This was supposed to be just another camping trip, but the events that've unfolded go against everything I've ever considered normal. Then there's weird talking animal... It even transformed to protect me! Don't tell me—these are "Kemonogami"?!

Episode 2: Somehow I was able to find my friends, but these Kenonogami aren't the only weirdness we're dealing with. The camp building's fallen apart, and monsters made off with Aoi! I admit the whole thing terrifies me, but we have to fight... We have no choice.

Episode 3: Shuuji's heartrending scream made my heart skip a beat. I wanted to save him, for my voice to reach him! I needed more power for that! As soon as I said it aloud, Agumon responded—with a new form that seemed to reflect what was in my heart...

Episode 4: If this outlandish other world has convinced me of anything, it's that my and Agumon's hearts are connected. Two as one... that's why he evolved into his ultimate form when I resolved not to lose, no matter what. We'll use this strength to protect everyone to the end!

Episode 5: Don't lose heart, don't give up, and never abandon your friends... Thanks to these three tenets, we've made it all the way to the final battle. We have a tough road ahead of us, but I'm not scared. After all, my dear friends and precious partner are by my side.

Partner: Agumon A monster called a "Kemonogami" that joined me after I came to this other world. He speaks human language, and is just about as smart as us. Oddly enough, he only wants to hang out with me. Plus, Agumon can transform sometimes. Our hearts are connected, and he's always by my side supporting me...kind of like a partner, I guess.

Evolution Line: (Moral) Agumon→Greymon→MetalGreymon→WarGreymon→Omegamon (Wrathful) Agumon→Tuskmon→Megadramon→Mugendramon→Omegamon (Harmonius) Agumon→Tyrannomon→Triceramon→Dinorexmon→Omegamon (True Route, Post-Game) Agumon→(any)→(any)→(any)→Omegamon / Huanglongmon

Name: Kaito Shinonome Age: 14 Height: 170 cm Weight: 57.1 kg Blood Type: B

Reason for camping: Kaito was already at a loss over his sister Miu, and her frequent goofy behavior. At the same time, he was constantly worried for her safety. Just today, Miu vanished when his back was turned for the briefest of moments. Could she be caught up in some trouble, and hurt somewhere? Is some bad guy doing something terrible to her? He was searching high and low, clinging to these worries, when he met Takuma's group for the first time.

Episode 1: We met up with Kaito in the other world. He's clearly wary of anyone he runs into, possibly out of concern for his sister. Even now, he looks ready to bite our heads off. His wisecracking partner Dracmon seems cool as a cucumber, though.

Episode 2: He may be rough around the edges, but Kaito is a reliable part of the team. I don't approve of violence, but we'll need to fight if we want to make it in this world. In that sense, Kaito seems to fit right in here.

Episode 3: Even I can tell how attached Kaito is to his sister. If you asked her, she'd probably call him more clingy than anything else. Still, her presence may be the secret behind Kaito's strength...

Episode 4: Miu's not the only thing Kaito's been trying to protect. He wants to protect everything she holds dear... So his sister doesn't have to have any terrible, painful feelings ever again. That powerful wish transformed into power itself, evolving Dracmon into Beelzemon. Maybe his feelings for Miu got through to her a little now?

Episode 5: I don't know if he realizes it, but this almost endless journey of ours has changed him. Now he wields his strength not just for Miu, but for all of us... Gotta say, it's kinda cool.

Partner: Dracmon Dracmon is a Kemonogami that's been with Kaito ever since he showed up in the other world. He's as belligerent and hard-nosed as Kaito, making him a reliable and powerful ally in battle. Dracmon always prioritizes victory, and is willing to use his allies towards that end. Still, he's more pragmatic than cruel, always taking the most appropriate action.

Evolution Line: Dracmon→Sangloupmon→Vamdemon→Beelzebumon / BoltBoutamon (Harmonius Route)

Name: Aoi Shibuya Age: 15 Height: 158 cm Weight: 44.8 kg Blood Type: A

Reason for Joining: Aoi never had much interest in the camp in the first place... At the time, an interview with a certain author had caught her attention. "My time camping as a student was a valuable experience that led to me becoming an author." Inspired by that article, she became gung-ho about camp, seeing it as an opportunity to change herself.

Episode 1: After we reunited with Aoi in this other world, the sight of these strange creatures didn't seem to bother her much. Scolding Minoru, looking after Labramon—she was the same girl we always knew. I thought she was a kind, if not uptight upperclassman. Turns out she had nerves of steel to boot.

Episode 2: Fangmon's words—"you're just playing the hero"—were like a dagger in Aoi's heart. But her desire to save everyone was the real deal. The valiance of Labramon's evolution, Dobermon, was proof of that.

Episode 3: At first, Aoi sought the "power to defeat" in order to become someone who could protect everyone. In response to that desire, Labramon evolved into Cerberusmon. That power was stronger, sharper than she could even imagine. Aoi was unsure if she could master such incredible power. Still, I'm sure she can find the right way to use it.

Episode 4: The moment Aoi pictured exactly the type of power she sought, Labramon evolved into Anubismon. A strong power to stand for justice, without losing herself to her own strength. I'm sure Aoi will keep using that strength to protect everyone.

Episode 5: Aoi's gotten so strong, I barely recognize the girl I first met at camp. Her strength helped bring us to the final confrontation. With her, I believe we can overcome anything that comes our way.

Partner: Labramon Aoi's Kemonogami partner, who looks like a dog. She has a lively attitude and works well with the gentle and reserved girl. Labramon adores Aoi, and never leaves her side. She feels the same for Labramon, and the two of them act almost like sisters.

Evolution Line: Labramon→Dobermon→Cerberumon→Plutomon (Wrathful Route) / Anubismon / Baihumon (True Route)

Name: Minoru Hinata Age: 14 Height: 159 cm Weight: 49 kg Blood Type: B

Reason for Joining: Ever since news came of the camp, Minoru waited with bated breath. Out in nature, away from our daily lives, facing untold dangers... and Minoru would take care of the problems in a flash, one after another. He saw a chance to become one of the superheroes he's adored since he was a kid.

Episode 1: My best friend Minoru also got sucked into this strange new world. I thought he'd freak out, but he's calmer than I figured he'd be—or at least cracking jokes about it. Having him around keeps me calm, but he's acting a bit reckless...

Episode 2: When Minoru first met Falcomon, he ran off with his tail between his legs. Now he cares about the little guy so much that he'll jump between him and the enemy to protect him. That "my body moved on its own" behavior on Minoru's part makes him pretty darn heroic.

Episode 3: Minoru's loose lips and endless array of jokes keeps everyone at ease. Still, his desire to be a hero was no joke—he's a dyed-in-the-wool aspiring hero. Lip service aside, he truly wants to be strong. His pure feelings caused Falcomon to evolve into Crowmon!

Episode 4: Strength to rally and fight, no matter how desperate the situation. No matter how his legs shake. That's the true strength Minoru wanted. The guy's a cool hero, warts and all. Seeing Varodurumon spread his wings made that clear as day to me.

Episode 5: Wisecracker, class clown, a bit of a wimp. Even if he doesn't live up to the ideals he had a kid, Minoru's come to accept who he is now wholeheartedly. I'm proud to call a guy like that my friend.

Partner: Falcomon Minoru's Kemonogami partner. Falcomon's arms are shaped like wings, and are useful for moving around. Calm and well-spoken, he acts as a clear contrast to Minoru's childishness. They complement each other; when Minoru's about to lose it, Falcomon's there to support him through any crisis. He's as cool as those heroes you'd see on TV.

Evolution Line: Falcomon→Diatrymon→Yatagaramon→Varodurumon / Zhuqiaomon (True Route)

Name: Shuuji Kayama Age: 16 Height: 176 cm Weight: 56.5 kg Blood Type: A

Reason for Joining: Wanting more real-world experience before applying to college—and to get serious about studying—Shuuji decided to apply to the camp. He was hoping to earn some brownie points towards a recommendation letter on the sly. If this camp could help him achieve that, his dad would see him in a better light... Sounds like a complicated relationship.

Episode 1: Our leader Shuuji wandered into this other world. I thought I could rely on him at first, but he's just as worried as the rest of us. Still, I wish he'd stop treating his partner so badly...

Episode 2: The sight of Lopmon wrapped in that ominous black smoke was burnt into our minds, and we just can't shake it. Shuuji... You've really pushed him to his limits, haven't you?

Episode 3: Shuuji couldn't acknowledge himself. Even so, he took a step forward, wanting to be someone Lopmon could be proud of. That powerful feeling, combined with his sense of responsiblity, evolved Lopmon into Antylamon. He told Shuuji to quit that "someone like me" talk. Even if Shuuji won't acknowledge himself, Antylamon has nothing but pride and affection for him.

Episode 4: All of the experiences in this world taught Shuuji to believe in his own righteousness. It seems that Cherubimon, Lopmon's new form, reflects his true strength.

Episode 5: I'm heading into the final battle with Shuuji at my side. I thought he'd be the most nervous of all of us, but I can't see a hint of it in his dogged appearance. I wonder if I can be as confident as him...

Partner: Lopmon The Kemonogami that accompanies Shuuji in the other world. Shuuji can't seem to stand his introverted and timid personality. Lopmon looks pitiful when scolded, almost like he's being bullied. I think Shuuji should be nicer, but for some reason Lopmon doesn't leave his side. I wonder why he doesn't run away...

Evolution Line: Lopmon→Turuiemon (True Route) / Wendimon→Antylamon (True Route)→Cherubimon (True Route)

Name: Ryo Tominaga Age: 15 Height: 162 cm Weight: 51.2 kg Blood Type: AB

Reason for Joining: Ryo didn't tell any classmates he'd applied for the camp. No one figured a lone wolf like him would join something like that, where group activities are unavoidable. The reason was an entry in an old journal of his mom's he'd found: "I hope one day Ryo gets to go to summer camp, and make lifelong friends like I did..."

Episode 1: My first impression of Ryo when I met him at camp was that he's a really intimidating, lone wolf type. But seeing him freak out at the little monsters we've met in this other world makes me think he's not all that scary...

Episode 2: Slowly but surely, this adventure in the other world has changed my opinion of Ryo. I just can't bring myself to dislike the guy. I can tell he's warming up to Kunemon little by little, and is trying to accept him. And the first time he called him his partner, Kunemon finally evolved!

Episode 3: The most surprising thing about Ryo is the way he interacts with his partner, Kunemon. He went out of his way to make handmade tools so they could train together. I would never tell the guy, but there's something almost maternal about it.

Episode 4: Ryo's bond with his partner's only gotten deeper. He wouldn't say that himself, but it's obvious just by looking at him. A part of me is almost envious of him.

Episode 5: From here on out I'm heading to the final confrontation, together with Ryo. Surprisingly, he doesn't seem nervous at all, despite the important battle ahead of us. The way he is now, I'd trust him with my life.

Partner: Kunemon A monster who never leaves Ryo's side, no matter how much he repulses him. Kunemon may look like a large caterpillar incapable of speech, but he seems capable of communication. While he gets worked up over said communication being one-way, the pair somewhat comprehend each other through body language. Ryo acts creeped out when Kunemon frets over him, but that may not be the whole truth of the matter.

Evolution Line: Kunemon→Flymon (True Route)→JewelBeemon (True Route)→BanchoStingmon (True Route)

Name: Saki Kimishima Age: 12 Height: 152 cm Weight: 40.3 kg Blood Type: AB

Reason for Joining: As soon as she heard about the camp, Saki quickly decided to join in; a so-called "spur-of-the-moment" decision. But an ulterior motive hid behind the girl's smile: making a "lifetime's worth" of memories. In truth, this might be her last chance, as far as she knew. Toward that end, she'd be as bright, bubbly and unbounded as always...hiding the doubt swirling around inside of her.

Episode 1: I'm not good with people like Saki. Says what's on her mind, gets along with everyone, and really gives you the business if you cross her. Still, she got caught up in this crazy adventure just like I did. To be honest, I'm not sure how this is gonna turn out...

Episode 2: The more I get to know Saki, the less I feel that apprehension I had about her at first. I thought she was a bit sharp-tongued, but over time I've come to see what a sweetheart she is. I wonder if she's dealing with more stuff than I can see on the surface...

Episode 3: Seeing how many friends she had back at school, I'm surprised to see how much Saki cares about her friendships. I didn't expect her to be so worried about getting along with someone so different from her like Aoi... Is there anything I can do to help, I wonder?

Episode 4: Right around the time I truly started seeing Saki as a friend, I came to learn a startling truth: the illness eating away at her. Still, she never uses her body as an excuse to run away... I have to admit, I find myself overwhelmed by her sheer guts.

Episode 5: Even if we win this fight and make it back to the human world, Saki has surgery waiting for her. We'll all be there to support her when the time comes. There's more "memories to last a lifetime" where these came from, and that's a fact!

Partner: Floramon The Kemonogami's been with Saki since she came to this other world. She looks like something part animal and part plant, and her bright and cheery attitude matches Saki's. They're always in sync, helping them overcome any crisis. Floramon gets Saki, and gives her gentle pushes when she needs it. Thanks to that, Saki's learning how to survive here.

Evolution Line: Floramon→Vegiemon→Blossomon→Ceresmon Medium / Xuanwumon (True Route)

Name: Miu Shinonome Age: 11 Height: 134 cm Weight: 29 kg Blood Type: B

Reason for camping: From the bottom of her heart, Miu was fed up with her brother Kaito. Her brother, admonishing her every action; her brother, the annoying, overbearing pain. She fled the house again today to escape his gaze, and that would be the catalyst that led her to Saki's group. "Today's going to be a fun one, I can tell," Miu thought.

Episode 1: I remember being confused when I met Miu. What an odd, free-spirited character... Not that my impression has changed that much. Still, according to Kaito she's been through her fair share of problems. Maybe that's why she's so harsh with her brother?

Episode 2: Kaito's in a bad way after trying to save Miu! Still, this seems to have provoked some sort of change in her. I'm not in Kaito's position, but... I can't help but be worried.

Episode 3: Up to now, the only one who'd protect Miu was her brother, Kaito. But it turns out she couldn't stand the idea of relying on him this whole time. The moment those feelings reached their apex—wanting to change, to become more determined—Mermaimon was released. With Syakomon by her side, it seems like Miu's grown up a bit. Still...apparently I can't tell her brother as much.

Episode 4: Always the protected one up until now, Miu wanted to defend her little friends for a change. Her unwavering heart caused Syakomon to evolve even further! MarineAngemon may be cute, but she's a powerhouse. Having Kaito recognize her growth made her pretty pleased with herself.

Episode 5: Our adventure is almost over...and I think it's safe to say Miu helped us get this far. She's grown so much, into a strong girl that thinks of her friends and fights for them. That's why I believe we can win the final battle.

Partner: Syakomon A Kemonogami, and Miu's partner here in the other world. The hard shell covering her body boosts her defense, I guess. Syakomon is a straight shooter, saying exactly what she means. She's the perfect partner for Miu, and would never abandon her in a crisis. Their connection gives Miu some innate understanding of the Kemonogami.

Evolution Line: Syakomon→Shellmon→Mermaimon→MarineAngemon / Qinglongmon (True Route)

Name: Professor Age: -- Height: 182 cm Weight: 64.9kg Blood Type: AB

Reason for camping: Several years had passed since his last investigation of this land. The professor had dedicated his entire career to researching this topic, traveling the country in pursuit of it. Everything had started here. He had arrived back at his starting point by a circuitous path, indeed. He believed that surely a new discovery would present itself if he investigated this place once again. In the end, this conviction would prove to be right on the money.

Episode 1: I met a man who is supposedly a professor in the area where the camp's being held. It sounds like he's doing research on local legends. Still, I wonder what good it'd do to look into such silly tales...?

Episode 2: While searching the apartment complex, I overheard the professor talking about something complicated with Haru. I'm guessing that the man's hiding something from us... Now what could it be?

Episode 3: Several decades ago, a young professor—the real Haru—wandered into this other world with his sister Miyuki. Then Miyuki used her power to let her brother escape by himself to the human world. But after that, the trauma of the experience caused young Haru to repress his memories of the other world...Renamon blames the professor abandoning Miyuki. But that's not true, Renamon! For decades, the professor has continued his research on the Kemonogami. Even if he couldn't remember, deep down he wanted to save his sister!

Episode 4: The professor said he has things he needs to do in this world: saving Miyuki, and mending fences with Garurumon. For him, Garurumon was his "fated Kemonogami". Garurumon, on the other hand, treats the professor's extended absence as abandonment. There's got to be some way to get these two on the same page!

Episode 5: Garurumon—no, Gabumon, I should say—used to be a cheerful and good-natured creature. Even after separating five decades ago, the two of them were still able to reestablish their bond. To say it moved me doesn't even begin to cover how that made me feel.

Partner: Garurumon The Professor's Kemonogami partner from fifty years ago. He forgot about Garurumon at first, but I'm not surprised: he was so young when they met, I doubt his memories of that time are intact. In order to save her brother, Miyuki separated the Professor from his partner. Garurumon still bears a grudge over this, making him hostile towards us.

Evolution Line: Gabumon→Garurumon→WereGarurumon→MetalGarurumon

Name: Miyuki Minase Age: -- Height: 140 cm Weight: 33.8 kg Blood Type: O

Reason for camping Miyuki continued a life on the run with her brother Haru. Saying nothing, showing no intent, moving in the shadows. They ventured from place to place until finally arriving at this school. Now what would they do? What should they do? The girl spoke nothing of these matters to her brother, staring off constantly into space. She remained silent, holding no hope for the future, simply following her brother's guidance.

Episode 1: I found Miyuki and her brother Haru lurking in the ruins of the wooden schoolhouse. She barely speaks, so I have no idea what she's thinking. The fact that she's survived here at all is probably thanks to Haru.

Episode 2: Miyuki and I returned to our world with Agumon. She was like a different person, talking normally and explaining lots of things to me: about the other world's Master, who controls the fog, and about the song handed down in the Minase family, with the power to connect the two worlds. Miyuki is a special maiden capable of using that song, so the Master's been gunning for her this whole time. Still, decades passed here while Miyuki was stuck in the other world... Doesn't that make her way, way older than the rest of us?!

Episode 3: I can't believe it... Miyuki fell into the enemy's grasp, and now she's turned on us! There's no way we can get back home without her, much less save both of our worlds. We have to rescue her somehow...but how?!

Episode 4: That gentle Miyuki just had her heart sealed away. When we called out to her, she came back to us for the briefest of moments. We still have a chance to turn her back to normal... That’s why I can’t give up.

Episode 5: For hundreds of years, the Master has waited for a maiden to inherit the power of the Minase clan. That's where Miyuki comes in. Still, I never thought of Miyuki as anyone so special. She's a simple girl who cares for her brother and her friends. She wouldn't be happy letting the Master possess her and hurt the people she cares about! Just hold on a bit longer, Miyuki! We'll save you, I swear it!

Partner: Renamon The Kemonogami Miyuki met when she came to the other world fifty years ago. Half of the girl's soul was stolen by the Master, making her lose her sense of self and forget her partner. Renamon took on Haru's appearance to support Miyuki. The girl can't even remember Renamon, but wouldn't have survived without the Kemonogami... How awful!

Evolution Line: Renamon→Kyuubimon→Taomon→Sakuyamon

Name: Haru Age: -- Height: 132 cm Weight: 31.2kg Blood Type: AB

Reason for camping Haru fled from threat after threat with his sister Miyuki. In order to protect her—a taciturn girl whose emotions had all but vanished—the boy led her by the hand, making every decision for the pair. Where is the safest place for them? Are any enemies lurking nearby? And if so, would the next spot be any better? Finally, his trials brought them to this run-down school. Even then, the boy thought that this, too, would offer only a temporary respite. Soon enough, they'd have to abandon it as well.

Episode 1: We ran into Haru in the ruined school building. He doesn't speak much, but I felt there was something off about him. Like he's more mature than he should be... I wonder why?

Episode 2: Sometimes I feel like Haru speaks in a way that doesn't match his age. It's like he's more calm than just silent, and he never fails to look after his sister Miyuki. His behavior doesn't seem normal for a kid our age, but maybe it's just my imagination?

Episode 3: Haru—no, Renamon—couldn't care less about us. As long as Miyuki is safe, nothing else matters. Renamon's even willing to trade all of us to get her back... We have to convince Renamon to come back to our side, somehow!

Episode 4: Renamon is determined to rescue Miyuki, and has decided to join forces with us. Having someone as powerful as Renamon on our side is really encouraging. We're heading into the final battle with a truly stellar lineup.

Episode 5: Thanks to Renamon, we've figured out our final destination. I want to help Renamon meet up with Miyuki as soon as we can. Meet, and never have to be apart ever again...

#digimon #digisafe #digimon survive #digimon spoilers #digimon survive spoilers #reference

[thelonewolf48]

I HAVE THIS URGENT FEELING OF WRITING SOMETHING FOR MY OTP (ATSUMINA) BUT LIKE I'M BUSY 😭😭

I just rewatched that old clip where Acchan says that if she's 30 or 40 and she's not in a relationship/haven't fallen in love, then she wants to live with Takamina for the rest of her life. Then she adds the comment, "we should just get married or something" and let's ignore how the interviewer tells Acchan that's not possible....

Like she's already past 30... but Takamina is married... 😭😭😭 so I want a fluff AU where they end up together.

Like, Takamina isn't married. Acchan still went through with a marriage and has a kid, then got a divorce. Let's say they kinda fought for something (not important, maybe), and now, Acchan needs someone to help her with her son.

Takamina is her first choice but she remembers they've been on bad terms... so, she asks around and when no one can help her, not even her parents. Acchan swallows her pride and calls Takamina.

Obviously, Minami says yes. Minami can't say no to Acchan.

The kid knows Minami, but still is shy. Atsuko promises ice cream, a day in the park, and some snacks the next day if he's a good kid. Minami says it's fine, she will find a way to keep him busy.

Atsuko can't quite look at Minami's eyes. She still feels a bit embarrassed.

"Everything will be fine," Minami says softly, holding Atsuko's hand and giving her a light squeeze. "I'll take good care of him. He won't even realize you will be gone for long."

Minami mistakes her embarrassment for worry. And Atsuko wants to smack Minami's head and also kiss her.

The thing is, Atsuko goes. She works and the time pass. When the director of the drama she's shooting yells 'Cut!' Atsuko asks for the hour.

2am. Way past the hour she told Minami.

She doesn't know if she should knock on the door, press the bell, or send Minami a text. She opts for a call.

Minami opens the door of her apartment, a hand rubbing the sleep off her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, the recording went far longer than I anticipated," Atsuko whispers as she walks inside of the dark apartment.

"It's fine," Minami whispers back, her voice hoarse. "I predicted as much and planned accordingly. You should stay. He's deep asleep."

Atsuko stops then, a few steps away from what she knows is Minami's door. She's not surprised that Minami knew how to distract a kid, she always was better with kids, but it surprises her that Ken-chan is sleeping in Minami's room. She guessed Minami would place him on the guest room.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course! I still have some of your clothes in the closet," she opens the door, slowly and with care as to not disturb the kid inside. "Just change and come to bed.

There's a little light coming from the bathroom, the door left slightly open, enough to wash the room with a yellowish light, but not bright enough to wake the people inside.

"He told me you bought him a doraemon light to help him." Minami smiles, sitting at the edge of the bed as Atsuko leaves her bag need the closet and proceeds to search for her clothes. "He wanted to be big and brave though."

Atsuko turns, an old, big T-shirt in hand, her son lays on the left side of the king size bed. He holds his safety blanket tightly, his thumb on his mouth —habit Atsuko has tried to get rid of, unsuccessfully.

"I told him grown ups use the light of the bathroom."

Both share a soft chuckle.

Atsuko changes in the bathroom. Not because she's shy to undress, after so many years, they're not shy when it's only them. But because she really wants to have a warm bath.

By the time she finishes, it's past 3am.

The warmth water relaxed her, all the stress and her worries left her body and her eyes feel heavy.

Minami now lays on the middle of the bed, and Ken-chan moved to snuggle next to her. The light of the bathroom doesn't disturb them but is enough to allow a photo. After taking a few dozen, she puts her phone on silent mode and finally gets on the bed.

Not near and neither far away from the two of the most important people Atsuko treasures.

Even in her sleep, Minami reaches blindly for Atsuko. Pulls her closer, and only when Atsuko's head is on her shoulder, an arm around her middle. Minami sighs and continues sleeping. This time, a light snoring fills the silence.

Normally, Atsuko has trouble sleeping. On this night, however, Atsuko is asleep before her brain can process it.

#this always happens 😭😭 #Atsumina #maeda atsuko #takahashi minami #takamina #acchan #ex-AKB48 #I wrote it because I needed it #got scolded cuz I stopped working #WHATEVER #AKB48