#1. this was hilarious and they have absolutely had this conversation. i would even dare to say multiple times absolutely multiple times | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

taesspark · 3 years ago

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A Normal Friday Afternoon

drabble #1 from the Spellbound series

pairing: Jungkook x reader

genre: enemies to lovers (but mostly enemies so far oops), hogwarts au

word count: 2.2k

warnings: violence (oc punches jungkook in the face), swearing

It’s a normal Friday afternoon at Hogwarts, meaning everyone is going insane. You wonder why Professor Snape even bothers teaching Potions right now since it doesn’t look like anyone is paying the slightest bit of attention. He even chose a hard potion for the class to make, individually this time. As if making it an individual assignment could stop a group of annoying 17-year-olds from wreaking havoc.

You flicker your eyes in annoyance at Jeon Jungkook and his rowdy group of friends. They had created a game where they launch the ingredients into each others’ cauldrons, giving each other points based on how close it got. Usually you try to get along with your classmates, especially fellow Gryffindors, but Jungkook has always been the sole exception. There’s something about him that grates all of your nerves like a carrot. Maybe it’s the way he’s good at all the same things you are, but he makes it seem more effortless. Maybe it’s the way everyone thinks he’s so innocent and kind, when he’s been metaphorically (and literally) pulling on your hair since first year.

It started with the little things. You were friendly to him, like you are to everyone, and as an 11-year-old, you had nothing to complain about. Something changed one day when you were walking past him in the hallway to class and he hit you with a hex that he hadn’t mastered yet. You remember falling to the ground in pain, watching your stinging flesh go boneless. And Jungkook? He was laughing.

You’re no less of a witch or a Gryffindor though. With your limp arm, you cast the strongest dancing hex you could muster. It worked, of course, and Jungkook was known as “Happy Feet” for at least another year for the way he danced around Hogwarts that day.

It’s a memory you keep close, as a reminder to never trust the sweet smile and starry eyes of Jeon Jungkook.

If you looked at all of the detentions you’ve served in your 6 years of being a Hogwarts student (and there are plenty), you’re sure 99% would have been from fighting with Jungkook, whether it’s yelling at him, cursing him, or swatting him with your broomstick in midair during Quidditch practice. Because of course he would join the Quidditch team at the same time you did.

You’re not in the mood for fighting today, though. You’re exhausted from a frankly awful week, and you just want to finish your stupid potion, get your stupid grade, and go to your stupid dorm so you can sleep.

Your only good friend in this potions class is a Ravenclaw girl named Nina. For a Ravenclaw, she’s chatty, and she flits around you while you grind up asphodel root for your potion. With a quick slide of your knife, you dump the crushed root into your potion. It bubbled. Beside you, Nina bubbled even more, her personality like soda that had been shaken too hard.

“-and then Emilia told me that she asked Irene if she would go with her to Hogsmeade next weekend, but Irene said she’s already going with Jieun, but Sam told me that Jieun is going alone, so what’s even the truth? You’d think that she’d at least-”

“Maybe you should mind your business.” You give her a sour look, and you hope it isn’t too harsh. “Just a thought.”

Nina’s mouth curls into a rueful smile. “You’re spending too much time with Yoongi lately.”

You crack a smile at the thought of your best friend and his (only partly true) reputation. No one dares cross Min Yoongi, a 7th year Slytherin with a killer poker face. As one of his best friends, you can see right through it.

“There’s no such thing as too much time with Yoongi,” you grumble.

Nina leaves you alone after that, thank god. You usually have a higher tolerance for her chattiness and gossip, but today your patience is running thin. Luckily, she knows you well enough to not seem upset at your attitude.

You sprinkle a serum into the potion before stirring it clockwise ten times. It’s the last step of the potion, and yours is already turning the perfect shade of mint green. You count to yourself as you stir: One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight-

You don’t make it to ten. You were so goddamn close.

“Oh, shit-”

You don’t register who curses. All you can see is a bottle of serum—someone else’s bottle of serum— being launched straight into your cauldron, and your entire potion splattering onto your front. Your robes sizzle where the potion hit them.

“Oops.”

You recognize that voice. How could you not? You almost want to laugh.

Fucking Jeon Jungkook.

The leech lumbers up to you sheepishly, scratching at the back of his head. “My bad. We were playing a game, and I missed pretty bad.”

He chuckles a little, surveying the green ooze all over you. “Green is your color, Y/N. Maybe they should’ve put you in Slytherin.”

You’re seething.

A temper is not one of the traits associated with Gryffindor, but at that moment, you think maybe it should be. Lions do roar, after all.

And roar is exactly what you do. Roar and knock Jungkook the fuck out.

The room is in chaos: Professor Snape is yelling, Nina is telling you to calm down, Jungkook is on the ground in front of you, more shocked than hurt, and half the class is chanting “Fight!” because the adolescent urge to create violence never truly dies.

“Take this outside!” Snape shouts at the two of you, grabbing you both by the collar of your robes. “Fight in the hallways, I don’t care, but this is not going to happen in my classroom. When you’re done, head to McGonagall’s office. I’m sure she’d like to have a word with you two delinquents.”

Jungkook stares at you, rubbing at the bruise blooming on his cheek.

The door swings closed, slamming in your face. With a huff, you turn around and vanish the potion residue still left on your clothes with a quick spell. You barely spare a glance for Jungkook. He stands several feet away, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

“Do you have something to say?” You snap.

He opens his mouth. Then closes it.

You roll your eyes. “Listen, Jeon. I know you did that on purpose. Very funny prank, absolutely hilarious. Truly, I’m rolling on the floor laughing right now.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop to the floor as if he expected to see you there, laughing.

“Let’s just go to McGonagall’s already,” you say, posture slumping at the thought of being yelled at by the intimidating professor.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” he says. Jungkook rolls his shoulders, and you see him gain some of his usual bravado. “We were playing a game, I already explained this to you.”

You bark out a laugh, just one. “I’m not stupid.”

He cocks a brow. “Are you sure? I bet my potion was better than yours even though I was dicking around for the entire class.”

“Fuck off.”

“Hit a nerve?”

“No.”

It’s like this, for the long, long, long trek from the dungeons to Gryffindor tower where McGonagall’s office is.

“You know, you don’t have to be such an asshole all the time,” you say, turning the corner. Jungkook jogs after you to keep up.

“I don’t? No way, all this time I thought it was mandatory.”

He sounds more upset than snarky, and in your present state of blind rage, you don’t have a single clue why he would be upset. He’s the one who ruined your potion and got you sent to McGonagall’s office. He’s the one who has been a splinter the size of Greenland in your thumb for five years and counting.

“Besides,” he adds, as if you wanted to have a conversation with him, “you’re the one who fucking punched me in the face. It’s kinda hypocritical to call me an asshole in this situation.”

“That’s a really big word, Jungkook. Did you finally learn how to read?”

Jungkook’s face crumples into a frown. “Shut up.”

“Hit a nerve?” You mock.

You think getting to McGonagall’s office is a relief until you’re finally there. McGonagall is all but screeching at the two of you. You’ve heard the same lecture several hundred times, but never in such a high pitch. You offer to make her some herbal tea for her throat, and she only gives you the evil eye. Jungkook snorts beside you. You ignore him, nudging him in the ribs with your elbow.

“Never in my days…”

“...Such stupidity from my own students!”

You fade in and out of consciousness during the lecture, and one look at Jungkook tells you he’s doing the same.

“Detention for both of you. I will see the two of you here at 9 pm sharp every day for the rest of the week,” McGonagall finally says.

Jungkook groans.

“I’m being generous,” McGonagall says. “If I see the two of you acting like violent animals again, I can and will suspend you both from the Gryffindor Quidditch team.”

You and Jungkook both make sounds of protest, only to be drowned out by McGonagall.

“I hate to see my own team lose, but it has been five years of your childish fights. You two will learn to be civil to each other, and I will make sure of it.”

The tone of her voice makes you uneasy. Jungkook beats you to the question that’s on both of your minds. “What are you going to do to us?”

The fear in his voice would make you smile if you weren’t practically shaking in your boots yourself.

“As you know, in Transfiguration, I am going to be having everyone work in teams this year. I was going to let you choose your partners, but you two have not earned that privilege.”

You turn to face Jungkook. He’s staring back at you in wide-eyed horror.

“You both are now partners in Transfiguration. Sit by each other and complete the projects together. I will not tolerate any misbehaving in my class, and if you don’t work as a team, you will be risking your own grades.” McGonagall stares at the two of you with the smallest of smiles, disgustingly smug. She’s enjoying this, and you hate her for it.

“But-”

“Professor!”

“I won’t hear it!” She shouts. Jungkook recoils. “This is final. If you have a problem, you should’ve thought about that before brawling like wrestlers in Potions.”

You hang your head, staring at how the end of your robes skims your shoes. You don’t like to be dramatic, but this sure feels like the end of the world. The rest of your year is probably ruined, thanks to McGonagall essentially sentencing you to Jungkook duty. Not to mention Transfiguration is your hardest class, even without having to compete with Jungkook. You don’t doubt that this would make everything so much harder.

“That’s all I have to say to you. Please leave,” McGonagall says, pressing a thumb and index finger into her forehead.

The two of you file out of her office, stumbling down the empty hallway. You walk in silence, thankful that classes aren’t out yet. You stop a few corridors down, and Jungkook stops next to you.

You look at him, really look at him. Other than the bruise on his face a la you, he has a sweet face and kind eyes. You remind yourself that it’s fake.

You take a step closer to him, and he tilts his head at you, nonplussed.

“Y/N?”

You brush a hand on his cheekbone, where you hit him.

“Does it hurt?” You ask.

The hallway is empty, but Jungkook still looks both ways before responding to you, as if you were a car hurtling towards him on the street. He gulps at your proximity to him, how he can feel your breath mingling with his own and your fingertips’ gentle pressure on his face.

“A little,” he says, quieter than you. “You really know how to use your fists, huh?”

He laughs. To your ears, it sounds forced. You smile. Checkmate.

Without warning, you grab his tie and jerk his face down to yours, leaving just a breath of space between your noses. You lean even closer to Jungkook, and a smile ghosts your lips when you feel him moving closer to you at the same time. You wait for one more moment, letting your warm breath hit his skin. The moment he closes his eyes, you whisper, “Good.”

His eyes flutter back open, confused, and you take your foot and slam it down on his. He all but howls in pain, nearly knocking his head into yours as he hops away.

"What was that for?"

"If you still don't know, then maybe I need to step on you again." You narrow your eyes at him, still close enough to register the clean linen smell of his clothes. “Do not cross me again. I need a good grade in Transfiguration this year, and I won’t let you ruin that for me.”

"McGonagall is right there. I could go tell her," he threatens. His eyes are wide, and you pick up on the slightest fear under his façade of arrogance.

"Okay, do it. See if I care, asshole."

You spin on your heel and storm down the corridor, leaving a stunned Jungkook in your wake.

#bts fanfiction #bts au #bts drabble #bts writing #bts scenario #jungkook scenario #Jungkook Fanfiction #jungkook #jungkook x reader #spellbound #bts hogwarts au #bts fic

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enderwoah · 3 years ago

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ORIGINS SMP HEADCANONS (because i love them): SEASON TWO EDITION BAYBEEE

(this is really long ENJOY :gun:)

tommy

he is phil's son smile

phil's most recent son at least

he's got like one more somewhere

he picked this one up off the dangerous streets a few years ago and he's been sticking with phil ever since

his wings are small- not too small to fly, but they're untrained to the point where it would take a lot or work to get him off the ground

but at first, he didn't really seem to want to learn all that much?

(he has three scars on his face- all from trying to learn how to fly when he was younger)

(he gave up after the third one)

("if at first you don't succeed; try, try again" is his motto, and he tried all three times)

but!! phil and wilbur are very persuasive :) and now that he knows he can fly, he's not going to rest until he does

he's a little manipulative to get what he wants sometimes, but can you blame someone that lived on the street for so long?

he had to do that to survive! it's not his fault.

(it's a great excuse.)

he laughs like a kookaburra amen

he squawks when he gets scared

he chirps. he tries not to because it makes phil go absolutely bird-brained but he does sometimes and he hates it.

tubbo

NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO BE A B[GUNSHOTS]

god he is. so fucking annoying (/rp)

he simply does not know when to stop

he ignores social cues to see when someone is annoyed

(see: he can read social cues. he does read social cues. when you get annoyed that's when he starts being more annoying, because you're more likely to give him what he wants to get him to shut the fuck up.)

he loves talking to (at) people, especially people he doesn't really know that well

so he's trying to be friends with ranboo, but the absolute prick keeps trying to avoid any actual conversations, so that's not working

he buzzes when he gets excited-happy

his fingertips are completely blackened and horrendously sharp, functioning as ten individual stingers

they don't do any actual damage but he's working on that

techno

wither hybrid (??)

how can you be a wither hybrid?? nobody got down and dirty with the wither

he's an experiment

the reason we haven't seen him yet? he's staying away from the main area of the smp

he doesn't want to ruin its natural beauty with his withering effect, so he keeps to himself on the outskirts of the smp

which sucks

withers get health from killing things

he's not fully a wither, so he gets energy from being around people and sort of draining their life force a little bit

he feels terrible when he's with just one person because they are Literally his life support and it makes the person feel like shit

when he's with a big group of people its great!! he only has to take a little bit from everyone and its barely noticable!!

but then there's the wither part. so he has to stay away.

he's always tired

always exhausted

he's a farmer, so taking it from animals works, but god does he miss people

but he can only visit a few times and for very short

(he's afraid that one of these days he'll get so bad that the next time he sees someone he'll accidentally kill them)

(it already happened once. he's blessed that he's been forgiven, even made friends with by the victims, but he doubts he'll be able to pull that off again with no consequences like last time)

wilbur

phantlings are dead elytrians, and given that wilbur was phil's son...he's a phantling

he died in the late 50s and was a librarian when he was alive, so he's very possessive (ha) over all of his things

you should never ask to "borrow" anything from him, he will hound you about it until you give it back

it's best to just say that you want something from him to keep

even if youre going to give it back

just for your own peace of mind

phantlings can feel fear and get a genuine feeling of elation from scaring people

of course, sometimes its unwelcome (feeling large amounts of fear from someone they care about in a bad way just makes them pissed)

but for the most part, wilbur loves appearing in the corner of people's visions just to jumpscare them a few minutes later

all in good fun, of course!! it's just hilarious :)

being the lighthearted, fun guy he is, he's not particularly secretive about his method of death

"how did i die? well, it all started -- ended -- on november 16th, 1958!"

"i walked out of the library late, since i took the shift for my wife since she was feeling sick and i worked there anyways,"

"the streets were dark and only lit up by gaslamps...and out of an alley...appeared..........."

techno.

he didn't mean it. wilbur isn't at all mad at him (anymore)

he was starving. he didn't know that one touch would be enough to fully revitalize him...

and murder wilbur where he stood.

sneeg

has details on everyone on the server

you Cannot Hide Shit From Sneeg

its impossible

if you find of his any shittly little mouse holes then you're doomed

you find one and there are twenty more

he's under your floorboards while you're having your important discussion about trapping the nether roof

sucks to suck ig??

he seems to be the favourite of many, which is weird since he rarely goes out of his way to actually talk to many people

he's the only person that tubbo doesn't actively try to annoy (or maybe he just doesn't find tubbo's antics all that annoying)

he's the only person that ranboo stays around (or maybe he stays around ranboo- he and Phil seem to be the only ones not off-put by his slightly sadistic and whiny demeanour (not counting tubbo, who annoys him anyways)

phil seems to be more protective of him than he thinks is normal (he lets sneeg ride on his shoulder while travelling, so he doesn't really complain)

niki is completely protective over him (again, not complaining)

contrary to popular believe, he does not get high from sugar

if anything he gets

high-per

(get it)

(high-per)

(hyper)

he's literally just a nine-year old getting a sugar rush leave him alone

phil

take the normal "bird-brain" headcanons and multiply it by like sixty-four

and you've got origins phil

he can't see glass- or, rather, he can, but it doesn't register that 'hey, this is a solid surface i am going to slam into'

its very funny for everyone else but he's pretty sure he has permanent brain damage from the blunt force trauma

if there is ANYONE on the server who dares to chirp, bird or no, they must understand that they are signing away their privacy and giving phil the right to go absolutely bonkers over them momma bird style

(shoutout to tommy, wilbur, ranboo, and fundy for having to suffer through this)

"oh??? you don't have wings?? you don't have feathers?? omg?? then what's this im preening?? what do you mean im just braiding your hair?? nono this is preening smile"

god help you if you dare to have wings

poor tommy, wilbur, sneeg, and tubbo

phil can't help himself alright

do you think he wants to be any sort of protective over sneegsnag?

no!! but he cant stop himself!! sneeg might damage his wings if he keeps flying those super long distances!!! nnnno! carry the bug man!!!

it's weird, he's always had that protective sense over ranboo, too

but ranboo very obviously doesn't have wings, so he doesn't get it...

ranboo

yes ur a peasant

yes ur poor

yes im cooler than u

what r u gonna do about it

the enderdragon's son! partially a dragon, partially enderman, partially human (don't ask, his other mom is a hybrid), all spoiled brat!

given that he has a ton of dragon genes, he's extremely possessive over his stuff and Yes He Does Do The Hoarding Thing

he has a pile of rings and gold chains and necklaces and most of his jewellery hidden underneath his bed

(if you ask him, no, he doesn't)

not to wear

just to Have

one time, fundy stole one (1) bracelet from the hoard and ranboo was sent into a panic for a good 24 hours

he wouldn't leave his cave and kept counting and recounting as if that'd make the missing piece reappear

(when fundy had to give it back because of the guilt, he expected to get his face bitten off)

(instead, he just watched as the prince was flooded with relief, telling him to get the hell out and nothing more)

it's weird, he has so much gold and even a crown, and yet here he is

living with all those people ^^^

truth be told, the enderdragon isn't a very nice dragon

nor is she a very kind queen

nor was the other queen

nor was her son

there was a mutiny in the end, leading to the dragon queen and her wife being killed brutally by the crowd of angered people

they went after their son next, who had ordered executions and worked servants to the bone just as much as they had

they cut off his wings in the middle of the square

he was sure he was going to die until a random person (a peasant) jumped up and yelled at them for publicly torturing a child

but ranboo didn't really catch all of it, given he was delirious from pain

he got to get some stuff quickly and escape with his life

this wasn't too long ago, either, so he's still trying to...adjust...to people talking rudely to him

(he's also trying to adjust to not having wings)

(hence why he hurls himself off the edges of cliffs and then has to teleport to the bottom instead of glide. he keeps forgetting.)

#this is so long #origins smp #originssmp #ranboo #tubbo #philza #philza minecrft #sneegsnag #wilbur soot #technoblade #tommyinnit #help this is so long

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chipper-smol · 3 years ago

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Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Relic Coffee Shop

Prompt

Prompts:

1: Lemm finds an odd fellow at the Blue Lake. Normally he wouldn’t bother to approach a stranger out of nowhere, but something in his gut urges him to take action. Quirrel, feeling the effects of age on his body, stares incredulously at the bearded face of a stranger who apparently wants to have him over for coffee. 2: Lemm sets up shop in an abandoned cafe. It’s roomy and pleasant at first, but there are _stacks_ of these disgusting old bitter coffee beans clogging up the rooms. It doesn’t help that bugs keep coming in to order a drink even though he’s posted signs to _KEEP OUT!!_ However, once they start offering Geo be begrudgingly takes it as an opportunity to achieve funds to pay for relics. 3: At first, the coffee was just an excuse to get Geo to pay for relics, but Lemm’s begun to notice that bugs who wandered into his shop with the telltale early symptoms of infection no longer have them on their return visits. He tells himself he’s not an altruist. He’s _not._It’s just a waste to throw out old coffee when someone just needs a pick-me-up.

By @bluwails

------------------------------- By @hydrochlorinate

“Just don’t. Tell. Anyone. Else.”

Those were the words that came out of the grumpy barista’s mouth that fateful day. One’s that you completely ignored, as you had already been drinking what could only be the drink of HIgher Beings, with just how heavenly it tasted.

Grinning like a lunatic, you give him 45 geo, not a small sum. If anything though, it was hilariously cheap for a drink that was this good. The bug doesn’t complain about the amount though, so he’s probably fine with it. Wings fluttering in excitement, you leave the shop, ready to tell any remaining survivors about the amazing drink shop you just found.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

The next time you come in, the store is absolutely packed. Denizens from all across the ruins of Hallownest are here, ranging from some uninfected moss knights to that one ladybug that you had a dance off with a while back. There's even a noble here, and- is that a mantis?

Anyway, it looks like your very subtle method of giving publicity to this cafe by talking about literally nothing else to whomever you talked to over the following week paid off. Good, this place deserves all the atte-  “You.”

Oh? You snap out of your thoughts, and look towards the counter, where the barista is levelling a glare at you that could instantly wither those delicate flowers that have been spreading around recently.

You stroll on up to the counter, a grin stretching across your face. The barista narrows his eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep this a secret? Why is my establishment filled to the brim with bugs? Who are these people?!”

...huh. Did he tell you to keep it on the down low? It seems in character from your limited interactions, but you don’t remember exactly. Oh well, time to play it off. You tell him that, well, what can you say except you’re welcome.

You’ve never seen a bug go from “Irritated” to “Ballistic” as fast as this barista. Usually they make a stop at “Angry” or “Absolutely Livid”.

“YOU’RE WELCOME?!?!”  No, see, he’s supposed to say thank you.  “THANK YOU???”  You tell him he’s welcome, before laughing. No, really, you tell him, look around, the place is packed! Business is booming! The barista (you should really ask for his name) manages to bring his volume under control, taking in a deep breath.

“That’s part of the problem. I’m a relic seeker, not a-” He gestures around the cafe, as if looking for the right words to use. Barista, you suggest.

“Exactly. I’m not made to brew coffee-” Oh, that’s what it was called. “-or to be dealing with customers all day long.”

Sure. That’s why he decided to allow people to keep purchasing coffee, or why he decided to put on a cute green and white visor.

You didn’t just come to check in on your new favorite bug though, you have coffee to order! Taking out a sheet of paper from your bag, you begin to read out both your order, and those of your companions. Even with the end of the infection, the leftover damage to hallownest’s caves and architecture makes it dangerous to travel alone.

As you begin to read out your order, the barista shifts from crotchety old bug to attentive worker. You really wish you had come back earlier, instead of letting some of your other traveling buddies pick up the coffee for you. Something about the atmosphere here is… relaxing, despite the amount of people.

After your order is finished, you leave the cafe. Back to the real world bucko, as an old friend of yours would always say.

...Wait a minute you never got the barista’s name.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

It’s been 3 weeks. You think. Time gets a little funky down here, what with the sudden influx of void. Sure, most of it has cleared out by now, but every so often your exploration party comes across a tunnel that hasn’t quite been fully illuminated, the shadows just a bit too thick to be natural.

You enter the coffee shop again. It’s gotten a lot quieter as time went on and bugs started coming in on a schedule. There’s still plenty of other customers here, but it’s nowhere near as packed as the first couple of days. Lemm (yeah, you finally got his name) stands at the counter, still slightly disgruntled, but a lot less so than he was at the beginning. In fact, he’s actually talking to someone right now! An actual conversation too, not just an exchange of witty remarks. You can’t see their face, but they appear to be a pillbug wearing a blue hood.  As you step up to the counter, you can hear their conversation a bit better.

“...of course, I couldn’t just leave it sitting there right? So I move to pick it up, only to find out that the desk I dropped it on was magnetized! So here I am, trying and failing to pick up this one plant hanger for a solid 10 minutes.”

They both laugh at this, before noticing you. The unknown bug turns to face you, allowing you to see his mask.  “Oh, hello, I don’t believe we’ve met before!”

You greet him back, introducing yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Quirrell. I’m… well, I can’t really call myself an explorer, because I’ve already been everywhere! I’m more of a wanderer, really.”

Ahh, a free spirit, you see. You point out that just because he’s been everywhere doesn’t mean he’s seen everything. After all, who knows what could’ve gone down during Hallownest’s peak. Both Quirrell and Lemm get amused by this, for some reason. Seeing your confused look, Lemm decides to speak up.

"He probably knows more about Hallownest than everyone here, having lived here since before the infection and all."

Your eyes widen, and your wings begin to flutter. Truly? An original denizen, and not someone else trying to piece together its history? Quirrell waves off the words, though.

"I wouldn't go that far…" He begins, but Lemm cuts him off before he can go any further.

"Hah! Next you'll be telling me that you weren't the head assistant of the kingdom's best scientist!"

Giving off the equivalent of a blush, Quirrell rubs the back of his head. Lemm turns back to you.

"I'm sure you didn't come in just to chat, though. What can I get for you?"

It's nice to see him making friends.

------------------------------- By @schyrsivochter

Lemm wasn’t a sociable person. That was a fact. He wasn’t good at talking, or at being friendly. (It wasn’t like he needed it, anyway. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed conversing with another bug.)

No, Lemm was much more of a person for reading. Deciphering the journals of the long dead, the writing and languages, was something he thoroughly enjoyed. Other artefacts spoke differently: the materials from which they were made, the way they were worked, the artistic style. It was a different kind of reading; some might say a more figurative one. But it was just as interesting.

Of course, architecture was part of that. It had not been a coincidence that Lemm had set up camp in Hallownest’s abandoned capital. When he’d arrived, he hadn’t dared to think that he’d ever finish exploring and finding new things. And it was true; he’d only explored a little bit before he’d realised that collecting and gathering relics was no use if he never took a proper look at them, instead letting them gather dust on the shelves, the tables, and the floor of the long-abandoned shop he’d moved into. So he’d decided to stay there, poring over his collection. His picture of the world of Hallownest in times past grew ever more detailed, more complete.

He’d opened the shop because people did not seem to stop wanting to sell him relics, and it never hurt to appear a little professional. And it had been a reliable source of new artefacts; new knowledge. He’d never sold anything, of course. His collection was his, and his alone.

And then came the dark. The cleansing void. It had taken him by surprise; he’d been working, and only noticed that anything was amiss when the light dimmed and he was finally bathed in darkness. He must’ve fallen unconscious at that point, and there’d been no telling how long it had been until he’d awoken. It hadn’t been until later that he’d learned that this was what had obliterated the plague, leaving in its wake hundreds of confused survivors and thousands of dead. No, the next thing to happen that told him things were not as usual was that a bug had come in, asked if he was open, and, upon his affirmative answer, asked for a hot drink, holding out a piece of ten.

Taken by surprise, he’d offered to make tea. He’d immediately regretted it, since it meant the bug would be staying for a while, probably without selling him relics, but it was easy enough to do and would get him geo, his supply of which had been running low. So he put a kettle on and took the money. The bug had thanked him profusely, while he had elected to remain quiet.

Not long afterwards, the same bug and four others stood in the doorway. Whether they had relics for him, he’d asked. They’d looked amongst themselves, and one had asked, ‘Is this not a coffee shop?’

‘I suppose it might’ve once been,’ he’d said. ‘Now it’s mine.’

More confused looks and standing around, and then the bug he’d seen before asked if he’d make more tea. He’d said no, not unless they paid him twice as much as the last time and stayed quiet and didn’t disturb him in his work. To his horror, the five bugs had agreed, and so he’d dug out cups from the coffee shop’s former stock and afterwards found himself a little richer in geo but with a significantly worse mood.

He had his peace afterwards, though. At least for a while. Now a bug had arrived, taller than the others, wearing a headscarf. Lemm had mentally prepared for the bug to ask for coffee, but the bug had halted in front of one of the tables that Lemm had repurposed for his collection of relics.

‘Admiring my collection?’ Lemm asked.

’Yes, quite!’ the bug answered, chipper and friendly. ‘I’m curious how you managed to get a hold of so many texts in such diverse languages! These are journals, are they not?’

‘They are,’ Lemm acknowledged. ‘From all over Hallownest.’

‘But most of them aren’t any Hallownest language.’ The bug put a hand on his mask. ‘I suppose they’re from travellers that came to the ruins and perished?’

‘Quite right,’ Lemm said. He had to admit, begrudgingly, that the bug standing before him was sharp and knew his history. A trait not many others shared.

‘Can you read all of them?’ The mask turned towards Lemm, inclined in question.

‘No,’ he answered truthfully, making his way around the counter to stand next to the bug. ‘I haven’t had the time to decipher all of them yet. But I’ll get around to it eventually.’

‘Interesting,’ the bug said. ‘I can—huh?’

He turned towards the entrance, and Lemm followed his gaze. Lemm was about to ask what the problem was, when a bug appeared in the entrance. The one that he’d made tea twice for. Ah yes, he thought. A customer. Two of them, in fact; one of the others from before had joined the one who’d taken a fancy to paying Lemm to make tea.

‘I don’t suppose,’ Lemm said, ‘there is any way to convince you to find tea somewhere else?’

The bugs shook their head.

Lemm sighed, and muttered an apology to the tall visitor. Time to get it over with.

He went to the back room to prepare the tea, and overheard the two visitors conversing in the front.

‘What’s this, anyway?’

‘Historical documents. Journals of travellers.’

‘What’s it doing here?’

‘I think the shopkeep collects them.’

‘That’s correct!’ Lemm called. ‘I’m always buying, if you have anything of historical value.’

He grabbed the cups and walked back to the front. ‘That’s fifty geo. Unless you have relics.’

The bugs complained under their breath, but paid up, and Lemm could direct his attention back to the visitor.

‘So is this what you do?’ they asked. ‘Opened the coffee shop again and collecting relics in your free time?’

Lemm was dumbstruck for a moment. Then he remembered to be outraged. ‘No! I am not opening this place as a coffee shop! People just keep coming and demanding tea and I cannot let an opportunity to earn easy money go to waste!’

‘Relic business not exactly booming, then, I assume?’

‘I’m—’ he spluttered, ‘It’s not a business! I don’t sell my relics, they’re mine!’

‘So you wouldn’t have any income if you weren’t selling tea?’

Lemm had the distinct impression that the bug was making fun of him. He didn’t answer, but simply walked up to the table, grabbed a random journal, and took it to his desk to try and get some work done.

He had not yet prepared his quill and ink when he was interrupted yet again.

‘You know,’ the visitor called, ‘that one is from a traveller from Greynest. Came here looking for his brother, never found him. No doubt said brother also perished in the ruins.’

Lemm turned around to see the bug standing in the doorway, having followed him halfway. ‘And how do you know this?’ he asked.

The bug shrugged. ‘I read it.’

Lemm regarded the bug. They didn’t seem to be joking.

‘You mean to tell me,’ Lemm began, slowly, ‘you know this language?’

‘Yes,’ they said nonchalantly. ‘I think I’ve been to Greynest? Must have been a while ago.’

‘Are you a traveller, then?’ Lemm asked. ‘You don’t seem the type.’

As soon as he’d spoken the words, Lemm became aware how utterly ridiculous it was of him to make observations about people. He didn’t like people, he wasn’t interested in people—

The bug laughed. ‘I am, in fact. I have travelled far and wide.’

‘Hmph,’ said Lemm, unsure what else to say. He turned back to his work, looked at the angular shapes carved into the stone, but now it seemed senseless to try and make sense of it when he knew that it was no mystery to the bug standing behind him.

At some point, he looked up and found that he was hungry and the visitor was gone. Oh, well. Time for a meal, then, and afterwards he might be able to find something else to do.

* * *

The next time the tea-drinker returned, they asked for tea and then asked Lemm about the relics, and he was in a favourable enough mood to talk about them. They asked some fairly stupid questions, but it seemed to come out of a genuine interest in the topic, so he indulged them. Plus, he had to admit that he enjoyed having a reliable source of geo. Not that he needed it much for buying relics, these days, but he supposed that his supplies of food – and of tea – would not last indefinitely, and he didn’t particularly fancy having to go back to scavenging, now that there were actual people living in the vicinity again. No, he’d rather find some place where he could buy what he needed fair and square.

The traveller with the headscarf returned, and it was an odd sort of feeling Lemm had about them. Like he actually liked having them in his shop and talking to them. And the perplexing thing was that the bug also seemed to enjoy conversing with Lemm. Which one one hand was absolutely preposterous, on the other … it was a refreshing change.

The bug introduced himself as Quirrel, apprentice to Monomon the Teacher, and Lemm could hardly believe it. Monomon the Teacher, one of the most brilliant minds of Hallownest? It couldn’t be! And yet it was not all too difficult to imagine. He’d seen stranger things in these lands.

Quirrel also was the one who later suggested Lemm officially open the shop as a coffee shop again. Lemm had thrown him out at that and gone back to work.

Now, a short while later, he looked up and Quirrel was back, standing at the counter, watching Lemm silently.

Lemm rose and went to the front, choosing to stare back equally silently. Lemm was good at that. Probably.

‘So,’ Quirrel said at length, his voice still as annoyingly friendly as ever, ‘have you thought about it?’

Lemm kept staring.

Quirrel held up his hands. ‘You need money, you don’t have much else to do, and besides’ – Quirrel shrugged. – ‘people like your tea.’

‘I certainly have enough to do,’ Lemm started. ‘These texts don’t decipher themselves. What’s so funny?’

Quirrel stopped his giggling and said, ‘They sort of do. Have you forgotten who stands before you?’

‘You don’t read all of these languages.’ Really, Quirrel’s ego was getting on Lemm’s nerves.

‘But most of them,’ Quirrel said, shrugging, ‘and most of the Archive’s records are intact. And we do have a nice section on language and writing.’

Lemm was silent for a moment, mostly because he could not think of a good comeback. Quirrel had a point, and Lemm did not like that in the slightest.

‘Let’s make a deal,’ Quirrel said. ‘I help you translate your texts and catalogue your artefacts, and you’ – Quirrel jabbed a finger in Lemm’s direction – ‘you sell your tea officially.’

‘Out of the question.’

‘You’re already doing it.’

‘I am not!’

‘Yes, you are.’ Quirrel said this with absolute certainty and no anger, and there was a voice at the back of Lemm’s mind that said: You really sort of are. And you could use the help. You don’t like the busywork anyway.

‘All right,’ Lemm grumbled. ‘Deal.’

‘Thank you,’ said Quirrel, audibly grinning.

‘I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?’ Lemm asked under his breath.

‘I don’t think so,’ Quirrel said. ‘I’m curious – what else can you make? Tea alone is a bit boring, don’t you think?’

‘Shut up,’ Lemm said, ‘or I change my mind.’

* * *

Lemm did not change his mind, even though Quirrel didn’t shut up. It had been a while, and Lemm hated to admit it, but he enjoyed doing something different for a change. Customers were now plenty, and Lemm had a menu with more than one item, and his relic collection was no bigger, but more orderly and better understood than it had ever been, thanks to Quirrel’s – and the Archive’s – help.

Another thing that Lemm was not quite ready to admit was that people could be nice. The more he talked to customers, interacted with them, observed them, the more he began to appreciate them. He used to be content in reading historical texts and artefacts, preferring to learn about people that were dead and gone. Living bugs had never really interested him.

Nowadays, however, it seemed that people could be just as interesting to read as anything else. And, as Quirrel entered, greeting him, and he could not help his mood being lifted just by the prospect of learning something new and interesting that Quirrel learnt on his last trip to the Archive, Lemm supposed that sometimes, very rarely … people were something he could enjoy.

------------------------------- By @gardening-clown

------------------------------- By @buglife

Lemm was five seconds away from throwing someone through the window.

His shop was now occupied by five bugs of various species, talking, laughing, and sitting around when he could be in the back doing literally anything else. It took weeks of bugs thinking that his relic shop was a coffee one before he simply gave up and made peace with it. At least he got some geo from it to pay adventurers that did come by to sell legit relics. How they mistook his shop for a coffee one, he would have never guess.

All he had was a little brewer that was barely put back together that he scavenged from some random shop, but other bugs seemed to like it, for some strange reason. It wasn’t even good coffee he was making, but they seemed to accept it. After all, who else in this dead kingdom was even selling coffee? He had looted plenty of shops and took as many sacks of beans as he would when he first arrived, and there was no way he could drink them all, so he might as well do something with them.

But he was steadily losing his patience with the amount of bugs around him. They were talking and loitering. Loitering was probably the worst of it all as it made the loner bug feel his shell crawl with the forced social interaction. He just wanted them to leave. He couldn’t stand the feeling of a crowded space, which is why he went to a dead kingdom in the first place.

Hell, he had to take his beloved odds and ends down from the shelves to keep some curious bug from touching them all up with their dirty fingers and breaking something.

He found himself dreading the sound of the bell above his door, and when it rang he wondered if someone else was coming to ask him for some random drink or be an annoying thorn in his side.

To his hidden delight however, it was the little wanderer. They looked like a grub, to be honest, with a black body and a stark white horned shell for a head. The nail on their back seemed to be a little put together the last time he saw them, perhaps they visited the Nailsmith? He never asked for their name, he didn’t want to learn it to avoid attachments, but he found them oddly endearing. They liked to listen to him ramble about his theories on various relics they bring him, so they can’t be too bad. Plus they were quiet and polite, something he was immensely grateful for.

They bounced inside the door and came to a stop, looking at the five other bugs sitting around and chatting. They tilted their head to the side, watching the bugs for a moment before looking at Lemm. They stretched out a stubby arm from under their cloak and pointed at him.

Lemm sighed. Of course, the little Wanderer had been gone for a while, and obviously didn’t know what had become of his beloved shop. He gestured for them to come over, which they did and looked up at him expectantly.

“Bugs keep thinking that this is a coffee shop.” He explained. “So here they are, drinking coffee that I make on a terrible little brewer. I gave up trying to kick them all out all the time, it stopped being worth the effort.”

The little wanderer blinked a few times, looking somewhat confused. They pointed to the cup being held by the beetle on one of Lemm’s chairs and mimed the action of drinking it.

“Yes, that’s coffee they are drinking.” He raised a brow as he looked down at the grub. “Haven’t you ever seen coffee before?”

They shook their head.

“Really now? Hrm…” He wasn’t sure where the little wanderer had come from if they never saw coffee before. It was a fairly common drink besides tea. They must have grew up in a rather isolated place If they never saw it. He decided he might as well explain it, it would be better to do it now than later.

“Coffee is a drink that bugs like to drink to give them energy.” He saw them perk up a bit at the ‘energy’ part. “It’s rather bitter, so some like it with sugar. I like it plain. It keeps me awake when I am working.”

They somehow made a face when he said it was bitter, tilting their head and angling their eye holes to look affronted. Lemm squashed down a laugh at the expression and decided to get to business.

“Anyway, they trade me geo for it, which lets me compensate bugs that get me relics. Do you have any for me today?” He hoped they did, he needed something to brighten up his day.

The wanderer nodded, reaching under their cloak to pull out a black orb. Lemm recognized it immediately to be an arcane egg. He loved working with those. Peeling back each layer revealed new information and new discoveries. He was in fact, still working on the one he got weeks before. He needed to be careful with them, and he reveled in the intense focus and work it needed to discover it’s secrets. His day instantly got better.

“Very nice, I’ll be glad to take that off your hands for the usual price.” The old beetle held out his hand and the wanderer gently placed the egg it in. They held up a hand once it was free and shook their head, pointed to a cup sitting on the counter.

“Ah, you want to trade this for a cup of coffee?” He wasn’t going to say no to that. If the wanderer was okay with it, it was a perfectly reasonable business transaction. His suspicions were confirmed when they nodded and bounced in place, looking as excited as they were able to. “Well I can certainly do that.”

Thankfully, the two bugs occupying the chairs in front of the counter left, leaving behind their dirty cups and a few geo for the mess. They thanked him and he grumped out a ‘have a good day’ as they left, seemingly indifferent to his mood. Oh well, at least it brought down the occupancy to a more manageable level for his social batteries. He pushed the dirty cups out of the way and gestured to an open seat. “Here, sit down and I’ll get you a cup.”

They bounced upwards to take a seat, swinging their legs back and forth as they waited. It didn’t take Lemm long to throw some ground up beans and water into the grinder, watching the brewed coffee pour into a clean cup. He carefully carried the hot cup down and set it in front of the wanderer. “Be careful, it’s very hot. I’ll bring you some sugar, you didn’t seem to like the ‘bitter’ description.”

They nodded and watched as he pushed over a bowl of honey sugar and a spoon. It was the least he could do after they got him another arcane egg. “There you are, help yourself.”

They bowed their head in thanks and took up the spoon, poking it into the bowl.

“Excuse me,” One of the bugs by the window got up, the one with a bent antenna and holding their empty cup. “Could I get a refill, please?”

Lemm held back a sigh and nodded, taking the cup and heading back to his brewer. He had to smack it a couple times for it to start working again, but in the end he got a passable cup of coffee out of it. He returned just in timed to hear said bug exclaim, “Woah there buddy, you must really like sugar!”

He looked to the wanderer, who had added so much sugar to their cup of coffee, that he could hear the sugar that couldn’t dissolve scrape against the ceramic as it was stirred. It looked like fresh cement, there was only a bit of brown to denote that once, it was indeed a cup of coffee.

He wordlessly handed the other bug their coffee, who took it and retreated back to sit by the window. He was about to say something to the wanderer, when to his horror, their head tilted backwards. A maw of sharp black teeth opened wide, and he watched, astonished, as the mix of sugar and coffee oozed into their mouth and to who knows where. A long black tongue lashed out to get every last bit of sugar out of the cup, before the mouth closed with a quiet click. They must have felt him staring, because they turned to look at him with their fathomless, dark eyes. He stared back, wondering what the hell was actually sitting in front of him.

They then bounced in place and gave him a thumbs up. They made a shape of a heart with their hands, a way that they say ‘thank you’. They seemed rather happy.

“Um…you’re welcome?” He managed, after he gathered his composure again.

They sat still for a moment, seeming to ponder on what they had just consumed. He figured that they were probably trying to figure out if they liked it or not. He doubt they even managed to taste the coffee from the sheer amount of sugar in that cup.

Then, to his horror, they began to vibrate. At first it was a few twitches, and then it steadily became more and more severe, until they were a literal blur. The chair rattled under the stress and the bugs that remained in the shop turned to look at the commotion.

It was then, Lemm realized he fucked up.

They suddenly dashed away, slamming into the shop door with such force that it caved outwards. There was only the short sound of shattering glass and the scream of metal before it flew off it’s hinges and rattled down the hallway. He could hear the hurried pitter-patter of the wanderer’s tiny feet, now fast enough to blur into one continuous sound, race down the hall and out of sight and hearing.

He just stood there, looking at the wreckage of his shop door, wondering where the hell is he going to get a replacement, if there even was a replacement. He looked at the three shocked bugs, standing and looking at the wreckage, and then he got himself an idea.

“Hey fellas,” He said, as he turned and looked at the bugs next to the window. “How would you all like some free coffee if you find me a door?”

------------------------------- By @radical-mudkips

------------------------------- By @unregisteredcookie

Lemm's 'shop' was empty.

Actually, no, that… that wasn't right. Lemm's shop wasn't a shop in the first place--it was a haven for relics and ancient knick-knacks, and the shelves were filled to overflowing with stone tablets and peculiar eggs that held unimaginable information. Not that Lemm was ever able to crack into the eggs' shells, but he knew--he knew there was more treasured information sleeping beneath. If only he were able to open it up without risking that information being damaged.

And that wasn't right, either. The shop being empty, that was. Right now, the shelves were empty, but that was less because of the absence of relics and more because they were all stowed away in the back room to be sorted. He had a notebook he was combing over, quill in hand as he scribbled out little bits of information that might relate to one another.

'Might', because Lemm wasn't really from Hallownest. So he didn't know for sure whether this smooth L-shaped contraption was a door handle or a piece to a lost work of art.

It was while Lemm was scribbling about in this journal bound in parchment (hand-made and flimsy, using the paper he found around the area that was clean and allowed to dry) that he heard it: The distant clattering of the elevator. There were about seven options he could think of off of the top of his head, each more dreaded than the last. It could be that scarcely-seen Nailsmith who seemed to know more about the history of this ruin than he let on. It could be the peculiar little silent bug that stared up at him now and again, the one that sometimes passed by with a relic to sell. It could be that talkative windbag, droning on and on in his droning voice, so grating and persistent that Lemm struggled to ignore him. He was probably the worst.

Lemm stopped writing, tilted his head, and listened for the telltale sound. The rattling stopped, and all that he heard for a while was silence. And then.

Ding.

He sighed, getting to his feet. A customer it was, then. How delightful. Here's hoping that the customer wasn't 'Zote the Mighty'.

He had a small moment of dread when he saw the horn, a critical blow of dismay that tempted him to retreat back into the back room and pretend to be out for a walk, but then he saw the second horn and breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, it wasn't the Zote person after all. It was… them. The other little one.

They looked up at him as he approached the register and looked down at them. Their eyes were vacant as ever, face impossibly unreadable. Lemm doubted that he'd ever get used to it.

Lemm liked this little bug, if for no other reason than they were quiet, kept their hands to themself, and brought him relics to purchase. They were the only one willing to sell these relics, and they were the only reason Lemm often said what he said next.

"Cup of coffee, or looking to sell?"

He never had much company in this place until the Nailsmith (Lemm never caught his name, never bothered asking, really) first came in looking for materials for his smithing. Almost took one of Lemm's Pale Idols from under his beard while he was noting in his journal. After the initial yelling that followed and a cup of coffee, the Nailsmith apologized by paying for the cup. And he did it again. And again. Until the mapmaker came in, saw, and bought a cup himself. Until the hooded pillbug came in, hummed, and bought one for himself. And then--

Well. And then he had a coffee shop.

Lemm wished he could say that he hated it, and he did, at first. But over time, he found the company rather pleasant. Besides, the geo paid for this little bug's relic collection well enough, so he wasn't complaining.

So. Did they want a cup of coffee, or did they want to sell their relics? Lemm didn't get an answer. Instead, they looked around at the empty shelves for a moment before turning their empty eyes back onto him, tilting their head to the side slightly.

It took Lemm a moment.

"Oh, I moved the relics into the back room," he said. "I've been needing to work on sorting them out and writing notes about them. Never would I have thought that I would have so many to study."

Satisfied, they reached into the confines of their cloak. Lemm leaned forward a little, watching as they rummaged about for a moment, heart skipping a beat as he pondered what sort of relic they were going to sell this time.

And then they withdrew their small hand, reached up, and dropped a fist full of geo onto the counter.

Lemm blinked and stared at the geo for a moment. Something wispy and thin clung to them, and when he picked it up and opened the register, it was sticky. Was this webbing? Lemm wasn't aware of there being any spiders in Hallownest, aside from maybe that red-cloaked bug he saw very rarely flitting about outside his window.

So. No relics today. Fine, at least he'd have more money to buy another one later.

"One coffee coming up," he murmured, rummaging around behind the counter. Underneath the register was where he kept the coffee pot, which he refrained from moving just so he could be prepared if a 'customer' came by. He busied himself with it for a few moments, filling the filter and checking the water, before clicking the button and letting it steep. Granted, he didn't know what kind of coffee they'd drink, but they didn't make it clear anyway, so he doubted that it mattered.

Besides. They seemed a little preoccupied by something else at the moment. After a few minutes, the coffee was finished, and Lemm poured them a cup. He chose a caramel-like flavor, because they seemed about the size of a child and a little bit of sweetness never hurt anyone. Lemm reached over the counter and held it out to them, which they took in their hands and stared down at for a moment. Lemm was about ready to head back into the back when it happened. A crack. It almost sounded like something breaking, but when he turned to look behind himself at the small knight, they still stood there. Another crack, one that made his fur stand on end and his body stiffen, and Lemm caught the glimpse of something sharp and white shifting beneath the bottom of their mask.

A mouth?

They tilted their head back. A jaw opened. Many layers of teeth glimmered in the dim light, cracking as they did so, the noise chilling him through his chitin and making his hemolymph freeze. Lemm stood there, stock still, as they lifted the cup up to their face, jaw extending outwards to drink it, and then-- --they set the scalding hot coffee in their mouth, cup and all, closed it, and crunched.

Lemm had never seen a bug eat a cup of coffee before. He could still hear the crunch, crunch, crunching, muffled and quiet and growing quieter, noise sounding like a particularly crunchy tiktik being eaten.

Lemm shuddered. When the knight looked back at him, he turned around quickly and went into the back room.

Okay. Suddenly they weren't the second most welcome sight for sore eyes. Suddenly Lemm wished that it was that talking, yapping Zote fellow who came in instead.

------------------------------- By @doodle-chris

------------------------------- By @payasita

There was no shortage of open real estate as far as the City of Tears was concerned. But that certainly didn't make every option an equally viable living space.

First, Lemm wanted something enclosed away from the rain, and insulated enough to stave off the humidity. That discounted anything open to the outside, as he wouldn't risk his relics to even the threat of exposure. A leaking roof dripping down onto crumbling tablets or fragile spider silk could devastate hundreds of years worth of history, so that also discounted any room without a few protective floors above it.

Next, it had to be out of the way of any and all shambling husks and infected critters. They weren't the brightest of creatures, so a room only accessible by elevator was ideal. He'd never seen anything plague-cursed have enough wherewithal to operate one, and the noise of it would give him plenty warning of visitors otherwise.

Lastly, he wanted someplace with plenty of shelf space. He needed little in the way of actual living space, so long as he had ample storage room set up in such a way that things could easily be organized.

All of these qualities described, in his opinion, the ideal relic storage and research dwelling. And in the end, he was lucky enough to find it.

Unearthing the previous tenant's belongings informed him that it also, apparently, described the ideal setup for a small café. On his first day in his new residence, he'd uncovered an antique coffee machine and a few other ancient tools, kept miraculously free of rust and wear. The room's conditions must be far better than he thought.

He'd dusted his findings off and set them back up on the counter, having quickly deduced where they'd once been put to use through old nicks and rings left on the shellwood by years of service. Lemm had felt a small swell of pride at finding this small bit of the city's history, and began a set of notes on his theories about this tower complex and its surrounding culture from everything he found around. Perhaps the whole place had been a shopping centre.

On the second day, he pried open the crates in the back room, and they had spilled forth bags upon bags of beans and teas. There were so many of them that he was able to rationalize cutting one open and examining its contents without much guilt. The beans were coffee, that much was obvious at a glance.

Biological samples weren't exactly his area of expertise, but smell and texture alone all but convinced him that they'd been perfectly preserved in their airtight prisons, well dried and perfectly edible.

Most likely.

For the sake of research, and because the bag was already open, he put them through the machine. He committed some time to studying the machine beforehand, as he was afraid mishandling it may destroy it. But an hour of trying to figure the damn thing out was frustrating enough that he finally reasoned that if he did break it, he could at least take it apart and examine its insides for anything interesting. Lemm was a relic keeper, not a tinker. So he winged it with a bit of rainwater and the beans, and got wet beans and hot murky water all over the counter to show for it. He figured out the grinder and filter after his second attempt, and by the third, he had a mug of fresh coffee to show for his efforts. The scent that filled his shop and the outside corridor must have been nothing Hallownest had experienced in centuries. Lemm had little taste for the stuff himself, but in his experimentation he'd gone and made a whole pot. So he supposed he needed to acquire a taste for it rather quickly.

Luckily for his health, that turned out to be unnecessary. The smell, perhaps amplified in the ever-present petrichor, quickly attracted guests of the still-living variety. There turned out to be far more travelers and treasure hunters bumping around this old city than he'd initially expected, prone to tucking himself away in solitude as he was. Introverted or no, he happily gave the coffee away rather than waste it or risk giving himself a coronary. There were even a great deal of disposable mugs stacked away that just made it all the more convenient.

Just over the course of an hour, Lemm was graced with a fair amount of odd characters intruding on his doorstep. There was a surly fellow wielding a metal shield of some foreign make, who announced his intentions towards finding and conquering Hallownest's old colosseum. He was convinced it was still in operation somewhere. Lemm decided that if it was, the place was more than likely not populated with the sorts of honorable warriors this poor bastard was looking to prove himself against, but he kept his thoughts to himself and sent the boy off with a steaming cup of acrid bean water. Next came another traveller who gave off a more scholarly air than the first had, and who carried a more conventional weapon at his hip. The pill bug certainly acted more like a student than a warrior, all bright-eyed and curious and talkative. But no doubt he must know how to use that nail of his to have survived this far down and still be so cheerful. His stay wasn't entirely unpleasant; the two actually talked a short while about Hallownest's history and their shared learnings. The bug even tried to insist on paying, but Lemm was adamant that his reliquary wasn't a damn breakfast nook, thank you, keep your geo. But if he really wanted to pay, Lemm would certainly take any interesting artifact or trinket the bug happened to pick up on his travels. They eventually came to an agreement: A journal pilfered from a shrine somewhere in Greenpath for an extra cup for the road. Lemm's next visitor was, of all things, a cartographer. This one was far too involved in his work for much conversation, which was fine by Lemm. But he did manage to barter a cup for a map of the city. It was incomplete and bare of any landmarks, much to Lemm's disappointment. Finally, an odd little wanderer walked in almost soundlessly. They did not speak to Lemm, nor did they give any indication that they were here for any specific reason. But they had acquired an old city crest and a King's idol on their path, and Lemm had a more typical exchange of geo for relics with them. And then because it was the last of the coffee in the still warm pot, and because the little wanderer did not refuse, he sent them off with a cup on their way out. Thankful to be rid of all the blasted coffee and done with the uptick in social interaction, he then washed the pot and continued with his normal studies. It was nice and quiet, now.

But then the next morning, the pill bug returned. And he was surprised (and clearly disappointed) to see the coffee pot empty. It was a shame, he'd said. For he'd gone and found himself another journal, and considered a relic he couldn't use for a hot morning's drink to be a fine deal indeed. Lemm was inclined to agree, for how it saved him his geo in case of a more potentially significant find down the line. He turned the machine back on at once at the prospect. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to brew just one cup, and was still rightfully intimidated by the old, fussy contraption, and not inclined to mess with what worked. So he made another full pot, and talked shop.

The pill bug wasn't the only one to return that day. The would-be gladiator came back, still not having found his destination, and had the gall to just expect another drink. After the deal he'd just made, Lemm was feeling markedly less generous than he had been the day before, and informed his nasally guest that he'd have to barter something old and interesting for it.

The ant grumbled and left, but returned a few minutes later with a guardsman's crest. He'd apparently seen old treasures all over the place, but had found it beneath him to go and pick them up." A warrior has no need to weigh himself down with baubles," he'd sneered over his cup. Lemm privately thought that the plague-crazed beasts who were doubtlessly running the colosseum now would soon show this haughty kid what they cared for his warrior’s creed in due time, so he said nothing.

The silent wanderer came later. This time when they held up an ancient journal, they made no move to take the geo held out to them. They only stared at Lemm, with their little mask so perfectly unmoving he could easily think them a sudden corpse. Then his hand drifted towards the pot, and the creature set the journal down on the counter.

"...News of a relic keeper bartering goods for coffee has already spread among your lot, then? I suppose even wanderers must have a rumor mill," Lemm talked to himself while pouring their cup. Predictably, they padded away without an answer, drink in hand. Lemm would soon learn how right he was.

- The coming days were more lucrative than his business had ever been. All the travellers he'd met before all came back with various oddities found around Hallownest, as did anyone new. Though not everyone quite understood what constituted a relic, and Lemm had to turn down more than a few shiny rocks and petrified lake detritus. But they all got the routine down soon enough. And, well, Lemm did have an extraordinary amount of coffee that'd just go to waste for another thousand years otherwise, so, may as well.

The pill bug, Quirrel, came to be his best "customer", though Lemm would be twice damned before he ever said the word aloud. Either way, Quirrel often stayed long enough just chatting to warrant a second cup.

"I ought to have you bring double the treasure," Lemm griped once while handing that second cup over. Quirrel's response was a good natured laugh.

"Perhaps elsewhere, that'd be fair. Coffee was a luxury in some lands, and remains so to this day, but by my understanding it was quite in abundance here. Though I couldn't tell you where in the world they must have been growing it," he mused. Lemm raised a brow, wondering once again where in gods' names this bug was educated. But as asking would be an invitation to hear his life story, Lemm deferred.

"Is that right?" he asked instead, "I don't care for the stuff myself, luxury or no." "Really? Not an uncommon opinion, I suppose. I picked it up as a habit at one point... Though, I couldn't tell you when, now that I think of it," Quirrel trailed off, adjusting the oversized mask over his head. Lemm found it an odd choice of protection from the rain, though he supposed it was better than nothing. He only shrugged, "I hear many students do make a habit of caffeine. Your sorts can never get enough hours out of the day."

Quirrel stared at him for a brief moment, and then huffed a laugh again. "Student? You mistake me, sir. I've only ever been a traveller for as long as I can remember."

Lemm didn't bother to mask his surprise, and Quirrel's eyes crinkled. "You're right on that second part, though. So much to see, and never enough time." He took a sip.

The mapmaker came back one day with an order for two drinks. He had no relics, but offered an extra inkwell and quill instead. Lemm found equipment for keeping good notes was lucky to come by, and reluctantly made the trade, much to the old bug's gratitude.

"Thank you, the second is for my wife running our shop surface-side. It was her suggestion you might want materials for your research."

Lemm cleared his throat, blustering slightly under his beard.

"Ahh. Hm. I can appreciate that, then."

"Oh, on that note, have you any sugar you can add in for her?" The bug peered over Lemm’s shoulder, which rankled him for some reason.

"...I did find a jar back here somewhere, I think." Though he couldn't promise it was good. Could sugar go bad? It still just looked like white sand.

"Thank you. ...Err, actually, is that a box of tea on the shelf, there?"

Lemm paused in his rummaging, and looked back at the open storeroom door. The room now made a good home for his relics, though he never bothered unpacking the open crates.

"...It is," he eyed the bug neutrally.

"Ah. Iselda enjoys her coffee, though I quite prefer a good cup of tea myself. ...Erm, if it isn't too much trouble, of course," the bug grinned politely over folded hands.

Lemm, to his credit, did not sigh. There was indeed a kettle back there, too. And at least he knew how to brew tea without making an entire day's worth of it.

He brought up the jar of sugar, and leveled the bug with a grumpy look.

"Fine. But next time, you bring relics."

The cartographer acquiesced immediately, and that was the point where Lemm realized he'd invited them both to expect a "next time".

The silent wanderer came back again, on the tail of a group of treasure hunters who came in and left up the elevator. Shortly after, there was the sound of struggle above them.

This had become commonplace. Anyone who showed up had to contend with the violent husks above and beyond the shop, and some were more prepared to deal with the dangers of Hallownest than others. Lemm only poured the wanderer's cup in bored silence, tuning out the thumping and shouts above. "You know this stuff stunts your growth, right?" Lemm asked flatly. The wanderer only ever stared.

"Dehydrates you, too. You active types probably ought to stick to water. Imagine having to deal with the horrors of rotting sentries and whatnot with a diuretic sloshing about in you." Unbothered, they leaned forward and took their cup in both hands, still staring up while he spoke. Lemm honestly had no idea if they even understood him, and considered the possibility that their muteness was compounded by a language barrier. But they at least always made the effort to appear attentive.

There was a thundering crash above them that made Lemm flinch, and then a silence that kept him tense. The voices started up once again after a few seconds, and the sound of footsteps hurrying away as fast as they could. By his guess, his last customers had just had a very close encounter with a belfly. He'd likely not be seeing them again.

He turned his attention back down to the wanderer with a sigh.

"...Let me see what you have, then."

The tiny thing set their cup carefully down by their feet, and fished a genuine void egg from the depths of their grubby cloak. Lemm was struck with the brief impulse to give them the entire coffee machine for it.

There was a new visitor one morning, just as Lemm brewed the pot for his regulars. He rarely got anyone so very early, and was guiltily nursing his own cup of acrid sugary heart disease before anyone would be around to see. Alright, so he'd acquired the taste for it. It was hardly unreasonable with how much time he spent around the smell, and it helped him make up for lost time studying his relics later in the night. Perfectly understandable, and so he definitely did not freeze mid sip like he was caught in a crime when the door opened unexpectedly. The red-clad stranger who walked in wore a wicked-sharp needle slung across her back, and fixed him with an even sharper gaze.

"...I hear you sell tea." Her voice was quiet enough, but cut clear without the normal hesitant lilt of a question.

Lemm slowly put down his mug, and the soft thunk it made against the countertop sounded awfully loud in the morning lull.

"...I don't sell anything. I buy," he insisted.

The altogether frightening lass glanced between him, the full coffee pot, and the kettle sat next to a stack of assorted loose leaf teas. Then back at him.

He grunted, hiding an inane flush of indignation behind another swig of his drink.

"...I seek artifacts. Relics of this place's past, and anything that may help me understand it, for geo. ...Or for a cuppa, for those who'd rather." He shifted behind the counter, nearly trailing off into a mumble. But at this point, there wasn’t much use in fighting his reputation.

The girl just scrutinized him until she seemed to come to a decision. She then turned and left without saying anything else, opting to hop down the elevator shaft rather than waste a moment calling the lift.

Lemm rolled his eyes and gulped down the dregs of his coffee, vaguely annoyed. By this point, he was used to the rude and half feral sorts of vagabonds that only came by out of curiosity. At least she was quick about leaving.

All the better for him, as far as he was concerned. He doubted such a young thing would have anything of note to share with Hallownest's foremost historian.

#telephoneknight #hollowknight #hollow knight #RelicCoffeeAu #lemm #tiso #ghost #quirrel

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years ago

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 10 second part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Meta)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Unclean Realm

Lan Wangji has a Louis Henry Sullivan moment on seeing the Nie family home, becoming enraptured by its overwrought monumental architecture after a lifetime of restrained good taste and single-story buildings.

He approaches the fortress with the expression of delighted wonder that he usually reserves for when he’s looking at the moon or at Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian is like, yep that’s a building, all right, but he supports Lan Wangji’s kinks.

Meng Yao tells them about the Wen Clan directive, and has what appears to be a moment of genuine, affectionate amusement at Nie Huaisang’s reaction.

Jiang Cheng kinda blames the Lans for inventing the whole “indoctrination” thing and for encouraging his brother’s disaster bi tendencies. Wei Wuxian responds by complimenting the Lan Clan, almost like someone who met his true love got some real value out of the instruction he received there.

(more after the cut)

One of the great ironies of this story is that Wei Wuxian sort of becomes a rogue Lan disciple because of his relationship with Lan Wangji. He relies on Lan temperament techniques, uses music as a primary cultivation method, has committed all of the Lan rules to his supposedly terrible memory and cites them on multiple occasions, and is an important mentor for the younger generation Lan disciples. Because Hanguang-Jun is just that good in bed.

Xue Yang in the background of this conversation is channeling OP’s church-enduring, school-enduring inner 10-year-old.

Nie Mingjue, Chifeng-Zun, appears, and couldn’t be more different than his brother. On first watching this episode, I saw him as a grumpy, sexy, very emotional leather daddy man who is quick to anger. Rewatching, I see someone who’s struggling with a growing illness...the resentful energy kind.

Nie Mingjue’s handling of resentful energy is very different from Wei Wuxian’s straightforward interest and acceptance. NMJ has a traditional cultivator’s view of it, regarding it as evil and as something to resist, while he is literally carrying it on his back. He’s like a secret alcoholic who is preaching temperence, and can’t find a way to be reconciled with himself.

At this point of the story, Nie Mingjue is keeping it together, but is under a hell of a lot of stress, and Baxia’s blood thirst is already maybe a problem.

The Yunmeng bros think that Nie Huaisang’s fear of his brother is hilarious, because they don’t understand the situation. They think he’s just living in a hideously toxic family dynamic like theirs, when actually he’s in a loving, sorta healthy, if parentless, family that is being crushed under a generational curse.

Compliments for the Yunmeng Bros

I’m not the first meta poster to notice how happy Jiang Cheng is to be praised by Nie Mingjue.

He never gets this at home. Jiang Yanli praises him, but in that watery “you tried your best” way that doesn’t really stick. Nie Mingjue’s praise really means something, because he is a fearsome warrior and stern authority figure. And this is a double compliment, because Nie Mingjue says he heard it from Lan Xichen, and agrees with it.

Let’s Make Terrible Decisions

Keep Xue Yang alive, says Wei Wuxian, and Meng Yao immediately agrees, although I’m pretty sure he would have proposed that even if WWX hadn’t.

So they do, not realizing that “kill him later” is never a good plan for someone who 1. super needs killing 2. has a whole lot of death-dealing skills.

Future clan leader Jiang Cheng notices how smart and talented Meng Yao is. Xue Yang finds it hilarious when the trio praises Meng Yao, possibly because their evil team up is already underway.

Boss’ Bed Warmer Son of a Ho

The constant insults toward Meng Yao are about his mom, but there’s another level of leering implication, that Meng Yao seems to encourage in his conversation with the soon-to-be-murdered guard captain.

Nie Mingjue elevated him way above his expectations, and he is ridiculously pretty, which has to create rumors. In the Nightless City scenes when he’s fondling Baxia and telling Nie Mingjue’s family secrets there’s definitely a sense of intimacy that’s not just “loyal retainer.”

I feel like maybe this whole exchange is a bit of theater designed to show Xue Yang something without showing it to anyone else. Meng Yao didn’t need to have this conversation in front of his prisoner.

Let’s Do Exactly What We Said We Wouldn’t

Once the younger quartet are alone with Nie Mingjue, Wei Wuxian crosses the room away from his friends and practically into Lan Wangji’s pocket, if Lan Wangji had pockets.

He has no pockets and also has no personal bubble any more, when it comes to Wei Wuxian.

We could make a weapon out of Yin Iron, Wei Wuxian says, completely forgetting his entire conversation with Lan Yi, apparently. Lan Wangji doesn’t argue with this idea.

Nie Mingjue warns Wei Wuxian not to try it.

I stabbed a man in Qinghe just to watch him die

Nie Mingjue is like the Johnny Cash of the cultivation world, carrying the weight of his poor choices and trying to steer the young folk to the path of righteousness. But--like Johnny Cash--his bad choices have made him really fucking cool, so he isn’t very good at deterring anybody.

Meng Yao Didn’t Come Here to Make Friends

Immediately after Meng Yao’s fellow Nie clan people call him “son of a whore” again, Wei Wuxian meets him, is nice to him, addresses him by his military title, bows to him, asks why he’s away from the party, and thanks him for his service.

But Meng Yao has already decided to make friends with Xue Yang, so Wei Wuxian goes onto his list of people that he doesn’t give a crap about except if they can be useful to him. Then Meng Yao goes to make out hatch a plot with Xue Yang.

I’ll Sleep On Your Roof

Meeting SongXiao seems to have done away with the last of Lan Wangji’s resistance to his connection with Wei Wuxian.

He hears a noise on the roof and, when realizing it’s Wei Wuxian, he smiles one of his tiny reserved smiles before heading outside.

When he sees Wei Wuxian drunkenly sprawled on the roof, limbs akimbo, wine on his chin and neck, mouth full of poetry about the open road, Lan Wangji gives him the most fond look imaginable.

Then he reluctantly leaves, with his signature “say goodbye, but only when he can’t hear you” thing.

They’ve both come a really long way since their first meeting. Wei Wuxian is openly and vocally attaching himself to Lan Wangji...but is not actually entering his space or asking for anything from him; he just wants to be near him, and wants to let him know that. “I’ll sleep on your roof tonight.”

And Lan Wangji just...loves him. Wei Wuxian is drunk, embarrassing, demonstrative, eager to make a hell weapon out of yin iron, touchy feely, and absurdly sexy. And Lan Wangji is pretty okay with all of that.

I Might Have Been Drunk

Wei Wuxian carefully avoids telling Jiang Cheng where he was last night.

Even if he did get blackout drunk, he would have woken up on Lan Wangji’s roof. And I don’t think he was as drunk as that. He just knows Jiang Cheng wouldn’t like the truth.

Wen Fucking Chao, Again

Wen Chao shows up to be annoying and boring. This leads to a pretty good fight between Nie Mingjue and Wen Zhuliu. Note that when the chips are down, Nie Huaisang stands with his Gege without any cowering. Almost as if he had hidden reserves of bravery, and is not as helpless as he lets on.

Wen Zhuliu isn’t styled to be super hot, although he’s certainly compelling, and in Dance of the Phoenix he looks good with sensitive-guy hair wispies. I wonder what actor Feng Mingjing looks like out of character?

BRB, adding a tag to my follow list

Battle Bros

When the fighting breaks out, the Yunmeng brothers are decisive and united, with Wei Wuxian giving orders to Jiang Cheng and JC following without hesitation.

I feel like if these two could have gone through a few big battles together, instead of being separated during most of the Sunshot campaign, their whole relationship would have improved. On the battlefield, they respect, trust, and understand each other.

The Pointy End

Nie Mingjue is holding his own against Wen Zhuliu, but he gets distracted by Meng Yao hollering “Xue Yang has escaped” and then shanking the guard captain right in front of him.

Wen Zhuliu takes advantage of the distraction to aim a very slow stab at Nie Huasang, and Meng Yao jumps in front to get stabbed on his behalf.

When the Yunmeng bros show up to help NMJ, Wen Zhuliu immeiately yanks Wen Chao back behind him and points his sword at Wei Wuxian. He absolutely sees these two as a serious threat. Considering that eventually WWX is going to kill Wen Chao while JC kills Wen Zhuliu, this concern is not misplaced.

Wei Wuxian tells Wen Chao to stop being such a jerk, and Wen Chao menaces Wei Wuxian and gloats about the burning of cloud recesses. The burning, that is, of some part of cloud recesses that doesn’t include the library, the Jingshi, the main cultivation chamber, the rabbit warren, or Lan Qiren’s house, unless the Lan Clan is really really good at rebuilding things to very exact specifications.

In a rare moment of seeing Meng Yao’s internal thoughts, he is worried about Lan Xichen when he hears about cloud recesses.

The Yelling Part

Now we have the particularly nasty breakup between Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao. It’s...got some layers. Meng Yao is cowering on the floor, but is not apologizing.

He never apologizes throughout this encounter.

孟瑤無悔 - Meng Yao (has) no regrets

This scene is amazing and excruciating to watch, even more when you know what’s ahead.

What the Fuck is Meng Yao’s Plan

On one level this is Meng Yao, manipulative sociopath, setting up a cover story for his aiding and alliance with Xue Yang. On another, this is Meng Yao, loving subordinate, being tossed aside by his lord because he dared to stand up for himself.

He uses the same “scout’s honor” gesture we’ve seen Wei Wuxian use to swear he’s telling the truth. Wei Wuxian is always lying when he uses this gesture.

I’m...not sure exactly what Meng Yao’s plan is, with all these chess moves? By stabbing the captain in front of NHS, he created an opportunity to plant a cover story about Xue Yang’s escape. He might be hoping that Nie Mingjue will forgive him and keep him on, while Xue Yang can stay in his back pocket to be used later.

Dry eyes? Try Visene

Or he might be intending to get kicked out, given his non-apology. In any case, Nie Mingjue is weeping during this encounter, and Meng Yao...isn’t. He is signaling distress in his voice, expression, and body language, but his eyes are dry up until the last moment, and even then they just glisten a bit. In a show where every actor is an expert at crying on cue, that’s got to be a deliberate choice.

Which isn’t to say that Meng Yao is faking being full of emotion in this scene. It’s just that the emotion isn’t necessarily sorrow.

What Does Nie Mingjue’s Head Think

Flip the view and this is about Nie Mingjue being betrayed by a subordinate, who has turned out to be a self-serving murderer. And on another level it’s Nie Mingjue being betrayed by his lover, who was just using him for advancement.

I rewatched the later episode where we get the scene as Nie Mingjue’s head perceived it, and he’s particularly brokenhearted and disillusioned from his head’s POV. In that version there is a telling addition to the conversation.

Nie Mingjue asks about the guys who were roasting Meng Yao behind his back. He asks, if I hadn’t come, would you have murdered all of them?

Um. No, dude. Of course fucking not. That’s what a patriarchal authority does. That’s the way an angry Nie Mingjue/Baxia team might solve a problem.

Meng Yao has to use subterfuge to kill his enemies. And while he super hates being called “son of a whore” it’s absolutely not enough to make him kill someone, with the risk murder brings. Likewise, being treated well isn’t enough to make him spare someone. Nie Mingjue totally doesn’t get this, because he’s been the patriarch of this clan his entire adult life.

And Here’s the Actual Problem

There is a betrayal here, but Nie Mingjue is not simply a victim. Whether it’s a sexual relationship or a non-sexual bond of affection, there can be nothing solid in Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao’s relationship within a feudal society, because it is fundamentally unequal. Even if they love each other deeply - which I’m not convinced either of them does - every encounter they have is tainted with power dynamics.

Meng Yao has been elevated by Nie Mingjue and quite probably taken into his bed, as well as being told many family secrets, but has not been given a new surname (like, for example, Wen Zhuliu was) or independent power. More importantly, Nie Mingjue has not used his authority to remove or punish the many people who disrespect his subordinate. Lan Qiren would have had all of those gossipy fuckers kneeling in the snow, and Wen Ruohan would feed them to his mosh pit zombies.

Meng Yao is a murderous little snake, but he is right to be angry with Nie Mingjue about some things, and his pursuit of his own agenda is understandable.

Well, That Was a Slice

Meng Yao leaves, hurt, with a dignified bow; just as he did that one time when his dad kicked him down the Carp Tower steps.

Take note, both patriarchal authorities: that is his way of saying “I’m going to murder you one day.”

Nie Mingjue sits with his broken heart, as we realize that we’ve only spent 20 minutes with this guy and we’ve gone on an entire emotional journey with him. This episode packed in a LOT.

Soundtrack: Johnny Cash, Folsom Prison Blues

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #wangxian #meng yao #nie mingjue #my gifs #canary3d-original #the untamed meta #the untamed gifs #restless rewatch the untamed

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seodami · 3 years ago

Text

Train to you | CBG

Genre: ANGST, tiny bit fluff in between

Warning: !!!!!! death, suicide, dark thoughts, 1 tiny curse word !!!!!!!

Word count: 3417

Pairing: Choi Beomgyu x reader (GN)

Note: well well well this was ANGSTY gdhsj it’s the first real angst I’ve attempted to write and I cried so...either I am too absorbed into the story or it really is sad haha. Please don’t read this if you have trouble with sensitive topics like these, yet anyone else who dares enjoy :))))

Main Masterlist

You cursed under your breath as you hastily ran up the cold Beton stairs, two steps at a time, trying not to collapse until you at least reached the incoming train. You were late again for work and you could already hear your boss screaming at you for being late the third time this week. It wasn’t fully your fault, you thought in your defence, remembering your defect alarm clock, the emergency call of your friend Soobin and the bottle of wine the previous day. Yes, definitely not your fault this train always leaves this early in the morning.

Lucky for you, the train was still at the platform, signalising the doors were about to close. You quickly squeezed yourself through the door before it was too late and to your surprise, there even were a few seats left. Still panting heavily, you plopped down on a vacant seat while trying to catch your breath. You used your red cardigan to pat away the sweat on your forehead.

It wasn’t until the train slowly started moving, that you caught a glimpse of an all to familiar cardigan outside on the other side of the platform. It was a brown haired boy, who was wearing the exact same clothing piece as you. And the longer you’ve watched him, you noticed that in fact his whole outfit was the same as yours today. Black jeans, red cardigan, black converse and a silver necklace.

You gasped at the boy, trying to not lose him as the train sped up but failed of course. Soon he was way out of sight and reach for you. You felt a weird tuck on your heart. Disappointed. You wanted to look at him just a tad longer.

The boy never left your mind for too long this day, always staying in your memory to be recalled back. He was wearing the same outfit as you, sure it could have been pure coincidence and you knew this world was probably smaller than it seemed but nevertheless, you found it fascinating. It was the first time this ever happened to you.

The next day, you managed to wake up earlier for once, having slept only a little, mind too clouded with everything and nothing at the same time. You were surprisingly excited to go take the train this morning. You didn’t want to tell yourself that it was because you wanted to see the stranger once more. So you nearly ran upstairs, without really needing to hurry, and there you saw him on the other side again.

He wore the same outfit as you again. A beige coat, black turtleneck, blue jeans and a black beret. You didn’t expect this at all, leaving you baffled. Sure, it must have been a coincidence again. But why was he so captivating for you?

You didn’t know how long you just stood there, looking at him and his face, oh his very pretty face. You wanted him to notice you. Just one look maybe? One tiny glance? It would do your strangely beating heart some justice. But he seemed like he was in his own world, smiling up in the sky, eyes slowly following the steady floating clouds.

You asked yourself if he took notice in you as well but soon came to the conclusion that he had not as the train arrived right on time.

You decided to test your outfit theory right the next day, being way too giddy to see the good looking stranger again. Luckily you still had some extremely ridiculous and questionable clothing pieces you buried in the back of your closet, not being all too happy to see your failed purchases again. You made a mental note to donate some of them later on.

You couldn’t hold back a snort when your eyes met yours in the mirror against your closet door. Why exactly were you humiliating yourself again? The pink baggy pants hung low on your hips, paired together with the ugliest Christmas sweater you could find. To top it off, you wore your long cheetah print fur coat with a blue collar and you couldn’t resist putting on your red bucket hat. This must do it. If the stranger still happened to wear the exact same outfit as you, you knew it had to be more than coincidence.

And just like that, you found yourself staring at the boy with wide open mouth, gaining weirded out looks from bystanders. He wore it. The same. Your mind was racing with thoughts and possible explanations but you cannot seem to find any. How was this possible? You thought of it as a joke at first but now...you didn’t know what the hell was going on. Were you slowly getting insane? Was he your stalker? But how could he even then have the same ridiculous clothes as you? Maybe he was some kind of soulmate? It sounded hilarious and absolutely mad but so was this situation.

It was short - maybe a split second - and your eyes met. Subconsciously you stepped closer towards the stranger, nearly ignoring the huge gap between you two. He saw you. It almost hit all the air out of you. There was something so familiar about him. Something so...so...unexplainable.

Suddenly your view got blocked and something roughly pulled you back, that you nearly fell right on your butt. Confused, you looked up just to see a mid aged man with a pair of round glasses on his nose. There was a disapproving look on his face, helping you stand straight again.

“Miss, you need to watch out. The train could have hit you.” His voice was stern, making you gasp in realisation with the train slowly coming to a stop in front of you. You really just forgot that you were on a train station. All you thought about was him. About going to him. You just wanted to know his name, having another conversation just between your eyes.

You quickly apologised and thanked the man before stepping inside the train, eyes searching for him. But he wasn’t there anymore. Your heart suddenly hurt - more than before. It was so strong. Where was he? You wanted to see him.

It was that moment when you realized you somehow, not knowing the reason, longed for this person. It was such a deep feeling, you never felt such a strong emotion before in your life. You wanted to cry.

Just as the doors were about to close, you caught a glimpse of a red hat and cheetah print coat right outside, where you just stood seconds before. You didn’t think much, you stood up running towards the door, frantically pushing the opening button again and again, but the doors were already closed. So so close. He was so close. But you couldn’t reach him. Why had you to enter this stupid train? He was right out there looking at you with these big brown eyes. It hurt your soul. He was so pretty. Oh you longed for one touch, one word. Why can’t you be with him?

Your hands were pressed against the cold glass, eyes never leaving his enchanting ones. But the train was already moving. It was too late.

A hand on your shoulder suddenly tore you out of your miserable state. Your heart was hurting so much by now. Why was it hurting so unbearably? “Is everything okay?” A woman with a child on her hand smiled at you sympathetically, offering you a warm hug after she saw the thick tears in your eyes, soon streaming down your warm cheeks.

Why felt it so thorning just to be with him? Why felt it like you just missed your only chance to ever meet him?

“It’s going to be okay.” The woman muttered under her breath, gently rubbing your back. “You are strong.”

The next day you woke up even earlier, almost not finding sleep at all that night. This feeling of lost and utterly sadness and hurt. You felt it ever since he was so close. Ever since you almost were by his side. This feeling never left you.

Today you felt just weak and so exhausted. You didn’t have the energy to go to work but you needed to see him again. One last time?

A white shirt with a pink sweater vest on top and a pair of loose white pants were your fit for today. Your mind wandered to the brown eyed boy as you chose the colourful item out of your wardrobe. It reminded you strangely of him.

With heavy heart, this time you trotted up the stairs, surprisingly noticing not a single soul at the platform. No one but him on the other side. You let out a sigh, you didn’t know you were holding. He was still here. You could’ve hit yourself with the realization that it was in fact Saturday, meaning you didn’t need to go to work today. It was silly of you, but deep down you still would’ve come for him. Only for him.

This time your eyes met immediately and your heart beat picked up. He gave you a bright smile and a tiny wave of his hand, making you nearly choke on air. He looked so pretty in the pink sweater vest, you were absolutely right. His hand was moving again, showing you to come over to him.

You gulped nervously. This was your time. No one would come between you this time. No life saving strangers, no wine bottles, no defect alarm clocks and definitely no trains. Without wasting any more time, now having found a sudden boost of energy, you sprinted down the stairs again, almost tripping over your own feet. You were gonna meet him. Finally.

When you reached the other side of the platform, you frantically looked around, searching for him. But he wasn’t there. You were standing right where he stood. You glanced over at the other side, where you were just coming from, seeing him standing there peacefully still with a smile on his face. He looked ethereal. The sun was on his side, making him glow in a heavenly way, you haven’t seen before. His brown fluffy hair was sweeping softly with the wind and his deep brown eyes sparkled with hope.

Suddenly it was as if your head hit a solid brick wall. Beomgyu. His name was Choi Beomgyu. Beombeom. Your dear Beombeom. How could you ever have forgotten him? The pain in your heart was now as strong as never before. You wanted to die, it was that painful. You fell onto the ground, clutching your heart desperately. Of course.

It was so contradicting. Hot tears were streaming down your face by now, the unbearable pain getting worse every second, yet Beomgyu seemed so peaceful, so calming and so sweet. You needed him for your heart to heal. He was the reason you were here. You needed him by your side.

He smiled and waved you over once again. He was waiting for you. You needed to get to him. With heavy breathing, you heaved yourself up one last time. You couldn’t just give up like that. “Beomgyu...” you screamed with all your energy, sobbing in pain. It was a heart wrenching moment to witness. Beomgyu on the other side nodded smiling, his eyes glistening as a single tear slipped down his cheek.

You couldn’t bear this pain anymore and started running. Right on the rail. You couldn’t care less at that moment. You needed Beomgyu.

You jumped down the ditch onto the track. You were almost there. Just a few more steps and you could touch him. Your heart was getting warmer and warmer. It felt so nice. So comforting. So familiar.

It all seemed to go so well but then it all happened so fast. It went wrong so fast. You could see Beomgyus hand reaching out for yours, just mere centimetres away. Then there was a bright light. A loud noice inside your ears, a shrill scream and an insufferable pain inside your head. It only lasted a split second and then everything was black. The last thing you’ve heard was Beomgyus warm voice calling your name. Then there was nothing.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

The next thing you remembered was a bright white light. Then there was a steady peeping noice. And lastly an extreme sterile scent. You already hated it. You longed for the same warmth you felt before, when you were about to be with him.

The first thing you remembered was coughing. Extremely harsh coughing. It was like you were coughing out your soul. You heard more voices, slowly getting clearer to hear, and saw shapes forming behind the bright light.

“Y/N, Y/N honey yn darling do you hear me? Y/N?” Y/N... that was your name. Right? You felt something soft yet ice cold touch for face, something wet touching your nose. Your mom, you thought. It was your mother’s voice.

Before you could realize anything, there were other voices, strange and familiar ones. As you finally could make up semi clear shapes, your eyes met a pair of circular glasses. A brighter light than before was now shining directly into your eyes but soon enough vanished again. You were still coughing.

“Y/N oh my gosh darling, honey, you are back. You made it.” You heard your mother cry besides you, grasping your weak arm as if it was her lifebuoy. “Thank you thank you thank you”

“Miss Y/L/N? Can you hear me?” A mid aged man behind the glasses asked you. You’ve barely managed to open your eyes and look around you, eyes meeting your mothers wet ones. A sob escaped her lips. Beside her you could make out a mob of pink hair. Your brother.

“Miss Y/L/N? Everything is all right. Very good.” A nurse in baby blue clothes spoke gently to you, as you started to gain back some control over your own breathing. You noticed something big inside your mouth, surpressing the urge to cough or vomit it out.

“One second Miss Y/L/N, I will now remove your breathing tube. It won’t hurt, just relax.” She patted your arm and made her way towards your face. A breathing tube? After a few moments you felt a weird sensation inside your throat as if something was pulled out. You immediately started coughing again once the tube was removed but slowly getting a hold of it again.

Yeonjun kneeled down besides your mother, gently taking your hand in his warm one. It was sort of comforting. He had tears in his eyes, eye bags clearly visible on both your mother’s and brothers face. What was going on? Why were they crying?

“All right there, here we go. Welcome back Miss Y/L/N, how are you feeling? Good?” You wanted to say something, your head still spinning, but could only make a hoarse sound, feeling just how sore your throat must have been.

“It’s okay you don’t need to answer yet. You still have a very sore throat due to the Intubation we had to put you through.” The man, you assumed doctor from his white coat, explained you patiently. You managed to nod but you were still trying to figure out the situation. You were more than confused. Why were you here and where was Beomgyu?

You tried speaking again but just a very strained “What-“ could be deciphered, followed by some coughing again. You were feeling weaker than ever and everything hurt.

The doctor nodded sympathetically, already knowing what you were about to ask. Your eyes wandered wordlessly to your brother’s and mom’s. They looked so hurt, yet relieved.

“Let me explain. You must have a lot of questions right now. We take everything slowly, alright?” You nodded again, Yeonjun slightly squeezing your hand. “You just woke up from a four week lasting coma as you previously had been rushed into hospital after a collision with a train.”

You noticed your mother sob harder than before, your brother gently laying an arm over her shoulder. “You tried to kill yourself Y/N...” Yeonjun whispered, heart breaking once more. It all came flooding back at once. Your head hurt at the sudden heavy feeling growing inside your breast, overtaking your heart in just seconds. You felt devestating.

Tears welled up in your eyes, remembering what you did, what you wanted so dearly and why you did it. You remembered the last seconds on the platform you were standing so often with Beomgyu, where he held you tight in his arms, where he softly told you he loved you, where you shared your first loving kiss and you both laughed afterwards at how clumsy you were being. And lastly, it was the place where Beomgyu died, where he found his bitter end at the tender age of 22.

Anger bubbled up inside you, remembering how he had died. He wanted to visit you with a beautiful bouquet of yellow flowers, as beautiful as him himself. You just aced your last exam of the semester, wanting nothing more than celebrate with your boyfriend of over two years. It had been your fault, hadn’t you just failed the exam, things would have been different. He wouldn’t have gotten to you by train at this hour, the drunk man wouldn’t have started a fight with him and Beomgyu wouldn’t have been pushed onto the tracks just before a train came rushing by. Beomgyu would have still lived. He would be with you on the couch, legs intertwined, stealing small kisses now and then and probably also a few bites of your snack. But something deep inside you told you that he still would have visited you, maybe to be there for you or maybe to just give you a hug.

Your heart stung painfully inside your chest. You wanted to forget again. You wanted to pull your damn heart out of your chest and throw it on these stupid train tracks. You hated how much it hurt.

You wanted to end it there. You’ve remembered it as clear as daylight. A life without Beomgyu seemed so impossible for you, you never could heal without him. He owned your heart and it was impossible to live without a heart. So you jumped. You were so sure. Even wrote letters for all your friends and family, the last one for Beomgyu, probably still laying on his grave stone. But why didn’t you make it? Why couldn’t you reunite with him? You saw him so clearly on the other side, dressed in his favorite pink sweater vest. Why had it to be him? He was so full of love.

“Beomgyu...” you whispered, painful sobs now tearing your heart apart once again. Yeonjun and your mother rushed to hug you as tight as they could, never leaving your side and crying with you.

This day wasn’t a day joy or freedom, no. It was far from that. It was a terrible, hurtful day. You missed Beomgyu more than ever before. You realized he was gone for good. And you were here.

But it was also a day full of comfort and understanding. You still thought about Yeonjuns quiet words besides your ear.

“I miss Beomgyu so fucking much as well. He didn’t deserve to go that early, I know. And it’s not your fault YN, remember that. He still loves you so so much and he is here with you, with us, every second. He didn’t want you to go from us that early as well, he protected you YN.” His hand payed over his heart, eyes fixated on yours, showing you how he meant every single word.

You nodded, your tears never ending. Yeonjun hugged you again. He firmly believed that Beomgyu saved you, so you believed it as well. He wouldn’t want you to end your life that easily, that pathetically while mourning over someone, who was instantly dead in just a split second. It wasn’t fair, no, it would never be.

And Beomgyu showed you in his own way that he not only loved you deeply and will forever, he also teaches you so much in life: joy, love, anger, sadness, overwhelming sadness and how to live life the fullest.

He will always be in your heart, no matter how much time will go by, and you will be forever thankful towards the brown eyed boy, who taught you how to love, live and leave. Your dear Beombeom.

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beskarhearts · 4 years ago

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Silence (Din Djarin x reader)

Connection series pt. 1

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings: cursing, mention of family members passing away, nightmares

Word count: A little over 3.2K

Summary: The Mandalorian is an extremely quiet man, not saying much of anything or making any noise, which is driving his new partner crazy.

Notes: I love these two together so I am going to write about them multiple times and am making it into a series. All the parts for this will be on my masterlist!

Next Part

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The silence was killing you.

During the day, it wasn’t as bad. The child usually gurgled and rambled away, speaking words only he could understand. The sounds of his giggles filled the air and lighted the mood. You would talk to the kid constantly, having him as a new loyal companion who would listen to you with wide eyes, responding in his own little ways.

But eventually the hours would die out and the kid would finally go to sleep for the night. And that is when the complete silence would kick in. Besides the soft snores of the child and the endless whir of the Razor Crest traveling through hyperspace, there would be absolutely no noise. No speaking, humming, clearing of the throat, nada.

You were used to being alone. You didn’t really have a lot of friends or companions before you joined the Mandalorian and his child, but it wasn’t quiet like this. When you were alone, you would hum or silently sing. You’d open your window and listen to the world around you. But, the Razor Crest was void of all of that, as well as the Mandalorian.

You honestly didn’t how it was possible. It had only been a matter of a few weeks now, but you had noticed how the Mandalorian could go hours without making even the quietest of noises. No cough, no heavy breathing, no words. He would just sit in the cockpit of his ship and stare into the hyperspace, seeming to study it for hours at end with no interruptions. The only time he would make noise is when he was fixing a weapon or the ship, or the eventual noises that accompanied him when he eventually shuffled his way into bed.

It drove you nuts. The silence was eerie and gave you too much time to think, to dwell on things you shouldn’t. But it wasn’t like you could just walk up to Mando and start a conversation with him. You knew little to nothing about the man in beskar, but you knew that he enjoyed his silence and enjoyed being left alone. When you first boarded the ship and joined him and his child, you tried to talk to him. You would crack jokes and sarcastically tease him like you did with everyone. But, he didn’t seem to be amused by that or succumb to your humor. He wouldn’t laugh and he barely even responded. He would just stare at you with his helmet until he eventually turned away to do something else.

You thought maybe he was just shy, not used to the company of a person. Maybe he just needed time to warm up to you. So, you decided you would let him speak first. You’d keep quiet like he wanted until he was comfortable enough to spark a conversation with you. When you came up with this plan, you relied on the fact that eventually he must speak to you. I mean you were stuck together and what was he going to do - never say anything ever? At the time, it seemed like an atrocious thought but now you had deemed it was very much possible you would spend your future days in complete silence when you were with the Mandalorian. Your plan to wait for Mando to speak now seemed ridiculous. Were you really not going to say anything and live in silence until the giant, glorified tin can decided to speak? I mean kriff, that day may never even come.

You sat on the floor of the belly of the Razor Crest, listening to the soft little breathes of the child as he lay sleeping in his hammock that the Mandalorian had resurrected for him. The Mandalorian was sat in the cockpit as always, out of sight, and you were alone. You had tried to go to sleep, hoping that would ease the uncomfortableness of the silence but it was hard for you to sleep nowadays. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw images of your parents and grandmother and those were memories too painful to relive for you. Nightmares plagued your nights so instead you would sit there awake for many hours, eventually laying down but spending most of your time staring at the ceiling above you.

Your mind drifted eventually, thinking of the child and how much you cared for him. You would never dare describe yourself as his mother, more like a glorified nanny at this point, but you felt a connection with the little one. He was warm and full of light and so much power. He seemed like a simple little kid but he was so much more complex.

You sat in the same spot thinking and didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you heard the thud of the Mandalorians boots on the floor. You looked up at the man, watching as he let go of the ladder that took him to and from the cockpit. You expected him to walk to his cot and close the hatch to it as he always did but instead his modulated voice let out a single sentence: “What was that?”

It took you a minute to process the fact that he had spoken to you and you felt yourself freeze up. You had been waiting for the man to finally say something, anything to you. Anything that would interrupt the silence. But now that it was happening, it felt so uncomfortable. You guess eventually you had gotten used to the silence and Mando trying to speak to you felt so odd, for him and yourself.

“What are you talking about?” You looked over at the child, but he was still knocked out cold. No noise came from him. Nothing knocked over or fell over. You heard nothing, as always.

“You were humming.”

Well, shit. You hadn’t even realized you were doing so. You probably annoyed him with it. You must have slipped into it, humming away to a tune you thought had been long forgotten but was apparently still very prevalent in your mind. You stood to your feet, looking at the Mandalorian and letting out a small “I’m sorry.”

Then you froze. Why the kriff were you apologizing? This man has made you sit in complete and utter silence for weeks and you finally hum a little because you are a damn human. And then he has the audacity to ask you what you were doing. “Actually, no. I am not sorry.” You clarified, feeling how annoyed you were with all the silence come out.

And what a surprise, the Mandalorian responded with complete silence, the only indication he was listening being a small tilt of his helmet.

“Sir, have you ever considered the possibility that you are a droid or something?” You sarcastically let out, perching a hand on your hip as you stared back.

“What?” A small scoff followed, sound distorted through his mask but you picked it up. The Mandalorian copied your movements, perching his own hand on his hip and cocking it out to the side.

“Well, I’ve just never met a human being who could sit in absolute silence and never say a word for so long. You must be a droid.” You let out a laugh. “Actually, I have met droids who have talked way more than you. I swear you vocabulary only consists of grunts, sighs, and saying ‘This is the way.’ Oh, and tonight we’ve added to your extensive list, a thrilling ‘What was that?’”

You let out a loud sigh as you finished your rambling, staring back at the man before you. And you didn’t think you could believe your ears at the noise that followed.

“Wait...was that a...” You pause, staring at him incredulously, “Did you just laugh or did your helmet malfunction?”

“I am able to laugh.” Mando said shortly and you swore that his voice seemed a little lighter than it ever had before.

“Well, how would I ever know that? Whenever I tell a joke or say something, you just respond with silence. I thought you were incapable of human emotion because, sir, I am kriffing hilarious and you haven’t laughed at my jokes once.”

“I laughed at you tonight.” You wanted to rip your hair out at his matter-of-fact attitude.

“Nooo. You didn’t laugh at my joke. You laughed because your complete silence is driving me loony. The only person I ever talk to anymore is the child and I don’t know if he can even understand me!” You throw your hands in the direction of the child, who still was sleeping peacefully away. “I mean how do you do it? Just say nothing for hours?”

“Mandalorians aren’t very talkative people.”

“So, when you are in a room with people, you just sit there and don’t say a word the whole time? What about friends or other Mandalorians?”

“I don’t talk to people. I’ve always been alone.”

The statement was made very definitively, with no emotion, but it made your annoyance simmer away slightly. You considered that the life of a Mandalorian must be very lonely. Nobody to talk to. You always have to keep your name and face hidden, never able to open up to someone completely and fully. You didn’t know much about Mandalorians but you could sense that connection and feelings weren’t of much importance. It was supposed to a life that consisted of an endless cycle of catching bounties and getting credits.

You knew that the Mandalorian that stood before you was already different, capable of connecting with a creature and caring for him. You saw it in the way he would mumble to the child, hold him against him, or even when you caught him wiggling his finger for the child to grab. The Mandalorian had been adjusting to life with one little child by his side and then you came along. And you would have to guess that a snarky, fully grown female was a bit harder to be comfortable with than the kid was.

“Well, you aren’t anymore. I know it probably kills you but you are stuck with me for a little while. And I’m not saying you have to talk to me all the time but I am here to talk to. And I think if I sit here in complete silence for another hour, I will go crazy.” You give the Mando a small smile, hoping to ease some of the tension in the room and not annoy his with your words. You didn’t want to force him to talk to you, but you also kind of did.

There was silence for a few moments and you were worried you scared off the Mando until he nodded slightly. “Okay.”

You let out a sigh of relief and quietly clapped your hands together, rocking back and forth on your heels. “Okay. Good.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

You raised your eyebrows, shocked that he was still engaging in conversation. “Sure.”

“Where did you hear that song you were humming?” Your smile dropped a little bit at the question but you tried to cover it quickly, though you could tell Mando could sense the change in your attitude. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s... umm...” You closed your eyes for a second and let out a small breath, feeling your fists clench. “My mom used to sing it to me to get me to sleep. It is just a silly little lullaby.” You looked down at your feet, feeling burned from remembering the memory.

“My mother used to sing that to me as well.” You felt an initial wave of confusion from his words. You had never thought about the fact that the Mandalorian had parents. I mean, you knew he didn’t just come from nothing. But, the idea of the Mandalorian as a child, with a family, seemed so bizarre. You tried to imagine a small child with a mother and father but couldn’t help but to just imagine his helmet on a smaller body. You then wondered how long he had been a Mandalorian as a child and if his parents were Mandalorians as well.

Your mind whirled with questions from the one small sentence he said, but you didn’t want to scare him off. You just let out a small, “Huh. Small universe, I guess.”

“Do your parents know where you are now?”

You wanted to tell Mando to stop asking you questions. You wanted to tell him to leave you alone but you didn’t want to shut him out right when he was finally starting to open up a little. You couldn’t slam the door in his face that you just convinced him to open. But this was the one thing you didn’t want to talk about. The one thing you were hoping was never mentioned. You looked back down at your feet, balling your fists and closing your eyes to build a dam against the tears threatening to fall. But, all you saw was your families face and that caused a bang in your chest that almost felt unbearable.

Mando knew instantly what the twist of pain in your face meant, for he had done it himself for years and years at the mention of family. It had been so long since he lost his family but it still burned and caused an aching feeling in his chest he didn’t know if he would ever be able to get rid of. He saw all of that in your eyes and felt dumb for asking the question. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

You let out a shakey sigh and look back up at the Mandalorian. You imagined he was probably judging you and your weakened state. He probably saw you as fragile and wrecked, something he didn’t want to handle. Damaged goods might as well have been stamped on your forehead. “It’s fine.”

You turned around, wiping at your eyes and starting to trail back to your small bed on the floor when you heard four words that simultaneously made you feel less alone but also broke your heart. “Mine are gone too.”

You turned to look back at the Mandalorian and looked him up and down. To the average person, he’d look like he always did: strong and bold. But, you saw the slight sag of his shoulders and the way his helmet slightly tilted down to the floor. You couldn’t see the pain that was on his face, but you could sense what he was feeling. A layer to the Mandalorian suddenly opened up to you that wasn’t there before. He wasn’t just a set of armor. He was a man, one who had been broken and scarred by the horror of the world. And even though he was covered head to toe in beskar, it didn’t mean he didn’t feel emotions. It just meant he couldn’t show them. Feeling emotions like these were bad enough but having no one to see it or confide in made it feel impossible to deal with somedays.

“I’m so sorry, Mando.”

“It’s okay. It was a really long time ago.” The words were said gruffly, as if they were bricks being built in a wall to push back the emotions he was feeling.

You wanted to hug him or grab his hand. Do something to console him and show him he wasn’t alone, that his pain could be your pain even though your own was so raw. You barely knew this man, having had your first real conversation with him only tonight. But, you felt like you understood him a lot better than before and in a way others might not be able to. And you wanted to hand your strength over to him and you didn’t want to admit it, but you wouldn’t have minded if he had handed his own over to you.

Instead of physically reaching out, you hoped to ease his pain with your words. “I don’t know your parents but I imagine they’d have to be proud of you. The way you care for the kid... you are a good father, Mando. And I know you insist you aren’t the kids father, but he sees you that way. I can tell. And he cares about you and I can tell that you care for him. And you took me in even though you didn’t have to.” You sniffled but brought a small smile to your face, hoping to lighten the mood with a joke. “And I know I am a pain and you’ve let me stay, so you must be a good person.”

“Thank you.” You couldn’t tell if your words helped at all but you still smiled in response.

“Well, we went from not talking to me almost crying in front of you, so I would say this is going spectacularly well.” You let out a chuckle, once again rubbing at your eyes. It was bizarre to you how one conversation seemed to open up so much between you two but it also created so many other questions you wanted to ask but they were ones that would have to wait for future conversations you hoped to have. Space and life was hard enough, but with someone to talk to, it made it bearable.

“I also added to my vocabulary.” The words were said in the same monotone way all his words were said, but you felt a real smile brighten up your face. The Mandalorian just made a joke with you. You had simply hoped for him to say anything to you to end the silence and here he was making a joke with you.

“Look at you, making jokes. In no time, you will be talking more than I do.”

“That is unlikely.” An exasperated tone was expressed with the words, along with what could be seen as a sarcastic shake of the head. His humor was dry, but it was something you could decipher and appreciate.

“I don’t know if I should be insulted or not by the way you said that.” You teased and you swear you heard another laugh until a piercing cry interrupted it. You looked over at the child who was throwing his hands in the air and wailing, with big tears filling his eyes that looked up at you and his father. “Oh, you wanted to join in on the pity party too?”

You started making your way to the child when Mando strolled past you and grab him, holding him in his arms and rocking him lightly. “I got him. You go to sleep.”

You smiled warmly at the Mando, wondering if he was doing the same under his helmet. “Okay. Night, Mando.”

You wandered to your bed on the floor and listened as the Mandalorian spoke to the child. He whispered as best as he could with the modulator on and you couldn’t hear much through his low whisper, but it brought peace to you. You liked the way he talked to the kid and how the kid slowly sank back into a peaceful sleep with the comfort of the Mandalorian.

Eventually, the lights turned out and you heard the Mandalorian shuffle into his bed, closing the hatch to it. Instead of dwelling on the past or feeling the pain of your loss, you smiled into the darkness, reflecting on your conversation. Eventually, your eyes drifted close and you fell into sleep.

That was the first night in a long time that you didn’t have a nightmare.

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian imagine #din djarin #din djarin x gn!reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you

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superworldunkown · 4 years ago

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It’s a date! (x3) Part 1 - The Agreement

AN: I’ve wanted to draft this one out for awhile but I don’t have the time to crank it all out in one go so breaking it up into 4 parts! Can’t wait for you all to read.

Summary: You’ve done it again. Thrown yourself in harms way and now you’ve left Midoriya, Todoroki, and Bakugou to take care of you. When you half assed admitted you wanted all of them to take you out on a date for your heroic deed, you were surprised that when you had awoken, they agreed and set the plans in motion.

(Sorry Kiri with the beautiful bouquet - you aren’t in this story but that is because you’d literally blow all these emotionally constipated beans out of the water. The world isn’t ready for your level of manliness and quite frankly we don’t deserve it!)

“Y/N! Y/N Please, please keep your eyes on me okay!” Midorya’s voice was frantic, on the verge of several different emotions that all seemed to be vying for attention.

“Yellin’ ain’t going to fill the hole in her fucking chest ya damn nerd!!” Bakugou’s brash voice cut through the panic and the surrounding chaos around them, “Icy Hot where’s the damn first aid...and don’t you dare die on me, ya hear. I still haveta kick your ass for that stupid stunt you pulled back there.”

Todoroki, ever so calm and lacking emotions, though inside he was screaming, "Both of you need to calm down. Y/N try to stay awake for a little longer. Medics are on the way.”

Despite your lungs collapsing and your blood escaping at an alarming rate, you found the situation quite hilarious. “Please,” you managed to gurgle out, “Don’t tell me you boys...are fighting over me again.”

“This isn’t the time for jokes,” Todoroki hushed while placing torn piece of his uniform against your chest, “You need to heal.”

The green haired student was on the verge of tears, “Please don’t die-”

“Shut it Deku!” Bakugou snapped.

You rolled your eyes, gasping slightly, “I’ll live, on one condition,” Your eyes became a bit glazy, “You all gotta take me on date when I wake up, okay?”

“Deal.” Izuku was the first to speak up, his hand clutching around yours.

“Sure,” Todoroki agreed while putting pressure on your wound, “Just stay with us, help is almost here.”

Bakugou was last to confirm. He muttered a quick fine before his calloused hands drew themselves to your neck, checking your pulse to ensure you had enough fight in you before he darted off to blast the bastards that got them all in this mess in the first place.

You had kept your promise, holding on until the medic team arrived and you promptly passed out once you were airlifted to the hospital.

The week after the attack was hell. You had an enormous amount of healing to do. Your body had to practically learn to breathe on its own again. But, each day you slowly gained more of your strength, and eventually the levels of oxygen you needed lowered to a point where you could see the light, and your discharge at the end of the tunnel. You still needed a small oxygen tube in your nostrils - after all, you could barely make it around the hospital floor without collapsing.

But, it felt good to almost, almost be up to speed again. After a day of rehab your body stretched in the armchair in your hospital room, your eyes studying a text book as you attempted to regain a weeks worth of school before you were allowed back to class. However, the familiar arguing of your three favorite heroes-to-be distracted you once again.

The door slammed open and Bakugou, Midoriya and Todoroki stumbled into the room as if they were racing to see who would get in first. Your mind flashed back to the Sports Festival from your first year at UA. Things were so much simpler back then. And the relationship between the three of you was much less complicated. You were rivals and nothing more. Now you found yourself in an an emotional web. You were close with all of them in your own way, but the emotions between them varied.

You held such a deep emotional bond with Midoriya. His heroic energy drew you in and his soul was pure in ways yours could never be. He help you be a better person and you were forever grateful and in his debt for that.

Todoroki you cared for on a personal level. You knew his struggles of acceptance, defiance and trauma first hand. The two of you would often get lost in conversation that only spanned 20 words or would spend hours walking along the campus grounds saying nothing or talking absentmindedly. Plus, his deadpan sense of humor was an absolute joy to be around.

Then, there was Bakugou. Oh, Bakugou. All of them had their own flaws but of course you had to be enamored with the one with a raging ego muddled with imposter syndrome mixed with perfectionism. He was terrible, but wonderful. A loner, and Loyal. Like you he had a very backwards way of showing his kindness and care towards others, but you’ve grown to love the way he challenges you, motivates you, and stands by you (even if its far away from the corner of his eye). You couldn’t help it. He was your person. But, both of you were too shy and stubborn to admit it.

“Y/N...are you alright?” Your green haired little bean asked, putting your mind back to the present moment. The three of them were standing next to you. One with a look of innocence, the second a look of emotionless concern, and the third...anger and spite.

Ah, those were the faces of your boys.

“I’m fine,” You reassured them, “Tired, but fine. What are you all doing here?”

“We’re here about our promise.” Todoroki spoke first. Bakugou grunted while crossing his arms and Midoriya clasped his hands together, “And we talked it over on how it will work out.”

Your confused face further irritated the blonde, “See, I told ya she’d forget. Way to put it back in her brain IcyHot.”

“...is this about the date?” It finally clicked, “Guys, I wasn’t serious. I mean, not all the way.”

“Well we promised.” Midoriya reiterated. “So this week we’re taking turns! I’ll be taking you out this Monday. Then Todoroki will on Wednesday, and then its Kacchan’s turn on Friday!”

“You’re serious? I’m still in the hospital, I can’t even breathe on my own!” You protested.

“Well we figured that into the equation so we’re doing it all here in the hospital. You don’t even have to worry about leaving. So, what do you say Y/N?”

All three of them eyed you while awaiting your answer, some with hopeful orbs, others with a ‘just out with it!’ expression. You let out a sigh with a smile while nodding your head, “Okay, I agree. This should be very...very interesting.”

Oh, and it was.

AN: First part complete! I’ll be breaking this up into 3 parts with each new part as a date. First up, Midoriya! Click below!

#bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #todoroki shouto #mha #my hero academia #its a date #mha fanfiction #bakugou x black reader

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bigskydreaming · 3 years ago

Note

Sorry to bother you, but RE: the Jason Todd in Arkham thing, like, what was Dick supposed to do? Take him home to the same house where two of the KIDS that Jason had threatened/attacked were supposed to be living in what one hoped would be relative safety?

Like, full offence, Jason had at that point proven himself a danger to all the people around him. If he wound up at Arkham, oh well, maybe don’t kill a whole bunch of ppl and harm numerous others. If Arkham doesn’t work as a hospital, maybe he should have been at another one, but at that point in his character arc, a secure mental health facility was probably the best he could expect.

It’s like ppl forget he’s a multiple murderer with a history of targeting the ppl Dick loves. I don’t even read the comics and I know this much.

Oh for sure, I mean, I've posted meta about this before because the fandom accepted narrative gets it sooooooo wrong. Like, I'll always be right at the front of the line yelling IT WAS JASON'S CHARACTERIZATION THAT WAS CRAP THROUGH ALL THAT, THAT'S NOT JASON, GIMME NUANCE OR GIMME DEATH. Y'know, something like that.

But like, given that Jason was written as repeatedly trying to kill Dick's other two brothers its like, yeah?! What was Dick supposed to do? He'd tried asking Jason nicely hey could you stop doing that and Jason was like LOL no.

And also....people are like - Dick callously threw Jason into Arkham right next to the Joker and then just left him there and forgot about him and....SOURCE?

1) Dick didn't DO this to Jason, JASON went after Dick and Damian and in the process of fighting him in a very public space, Dick beat Jason and police were already like....right there? Dick didn't actually have the option of being uh no, you can't take this known and notorious criminal into custody, I'll stop you on the basis of - well I can't tell you actually but plz just trust me okay, he totes didn't mean it! (except like also, at that point he totes did, so.....)

2) What pull Dick DID have as Batman with the GCPD, he used to get Jason put into Arkham INSTEAD of Blackgate for his SAFETY. We know this to be true. Jason himself confirmed that absolutely nothing bad happened to him in Arkham, he just didn't want to be there but WHO THE HELL EVER WANTS TO BE IN A PRISON OF ANY SORT? And the first thing Dick said when Bruce said Jason had demanded to be transferred to Blackgate is that Jason wouldn't be safe there with all the enemies he had gunning for him. It was abundantly clear that Jason's safety had been a primary concern for Dick the whole time (and Jason wasn't safe at Blackgate, its just fine, he only wanted to be transferred in order to enact an escape plan that got like 80 people indiscriminately killed but whatevs. Its Gotham, what's a few dozen more dead criminals am I right? *rolls eyes at how often that little detail gets left out of the narrative).

3) Dick consistently put time, focus and Wayne Enterprises money into Arkham Asylum while he was Batman, since Arkham was being rebuilt from the ground up after it was blown up in Battle for the Cowl. Also, Dick had been one of the last 'patients' in the old Arkham, given that he went undercover to infiltrate the Black Glove while they were in control of Arkham and spent a week in there drugged to the gills, locked up and in a straitjacket before being almost lobotomized. He has every grievance with Arkham that fan writers like to PRETEND Jason has from his stay there, but Jason's only complaint was that he again, was bored, and he had to take psych evals every other week because it was after all, still a mental health institution. Dick did everything in his power at the time to make sure that even if Jason did have to be locked up to keep him from going after more people, like, it was going to be as humane as possible and the stuff that Dick himself had JUST experienced in the old Arkham WOULDN'T happen to Jason.

4) The Joker was literally nowhere near Arkham THE ENTIRE TIME. This is not a small detail, given that 'the Joker was just five cells down' is the entire basis of most writers' Jason-in-Arkham angst and the anti-Dick sentiments they tend to create. All the major Rogues escaped from the old Arkham in Battle for the Cowl BEFORE it blew up. That's why they're not DEAD. Dick's run as Batman was primarily about fighting the escapees. And Joker, very significantly, was clearly among those Rogues not present in Arkham during Dick's Batman run, given he was literally toying with Dick and Damian through most of it. Seriously, how much do people have to hate Dick and think the worst of him to think that he - the dude who btw, BEAT THE JOKER TO DEATH WITH HIS BARE HANDS FOR MAKING JOKES ABOUT KILLING JASON - would just....obliviously lock Jason up right next to the Joker and throw away the key?

Like...and it goes on and on, lol. I remember the first time I brought all this up in an argument with some Jason stans, they literally started laughing back and forth to each other in the replies about how someone was a bit too carried away with their own fanon, and its like...LMAO! Yes! Someone is! Its YOU! You are the people you guys are talking about, looooool, I can literally back all this up with sourced panels.

Buuuuuuut, c'est la vie.

I mean, this is nothing new for us, its literally Teen Wolf fandom alllll over again. Probably why I just said nope, not doing this again awhile back and was like umm actually I will NOT just be ignoring the blatant false narratives thrown around here just so that people happy with the fanon narratives that prioritize the characters they like and sling shit at the characters they don't can have their fandom just the way they want it at the expense of everyone else in it. You wanna push bad faith interpretations of specific characters at every literal opportunity, its like, that's cool! I got the drive! I can push back with actual facts, its all good!

But the most hilarious thing to me will always be how fucking INDIGNANT people get about that, like "How dare you point out the precedent we established in not caring about any fandom experience other than our own and thus being loud and everpresent with our preferred interpretations in an attempt to drown out any other possible interpretation just so that the most people possible would be influenced by us instead of anything else, and we'd get more of the content we like at the expense of any possible nuance whatsoever."

Like, the most common complaint I get is people griping about how damn often I'm saying "mmmm, no, this isn't what happened actually" and "okay but have you considered flipping the script BACK from the way you flipped it initially in order to get this weird ass interpretation of a superhero noted for his emphasis on emotional caretaking of his loved ones actually being this callous oblivious selfish jerk who tramples all over the feelings of everyone around them and makes them just the woobiest woobies that ever did woobie all throughout Woobieland?"

And I'm just like, okay see, I hear you, its just the thing is, the THING IS......

If you didn't want that to be the topic of conversation so damn often, then hey, just a suggesh, but maybe you shouldn't have devoted literal years to coming up with the most bad faith interpretations of this character possible at literally every available opportunity. Maybe there'd be like.....less reason for the topic to come up so often, if like....you by your own actions hadn't made it a necessary topic to tackle so often?

I DON'T KNOW, I'M JUST SPIT-BALLING HERE, DON'T MIND ME AND MY CRAZY-ASS IDEAS OF FAIR PLAY.

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liibrii · 4 years ago

Text

Ojiro Aran x Reader

Part 2 of this scribble

Genre: angsty with a happy ending

Warnings: Inarizaki shares 1 brain cell and the manager is using it 24/7 ; some cursing

A/N: after that first part I felt really bad for breaking reader's heart so here we go.

For the remaining days of the training camp Aran can't look you in the eyes. Somehow that hurts more than his rejection. Your heart lays in shards and pieces yet that doesn't sting nearly as much as the awkward glances and silence and the careful tip-toeing he does when you're around. You try your best to act as if nothing happened. Hiding behind laughter and smiles is so easy nobody on the team notices you're heartbroken.

It all changes once you return home. Your room is so silent when you hide under covers and hug your favourite plushy. Your throat itches and every breath hurts. It's just a stupid crush, you keep telling yourself, just a crush that will fade away. Yet in that moment it doesn't hurt any less. You burry your face in the pillow to muffle your sobs.

Before the summer break started you made plans with other third years to meet at Kita's and watch the stars. Hours before you were supposed to meet you come up with an excuse and stay home. You aren't sure you could handle Aran's presence without bursting into tears.

You shudder at the though of the coming weekly practices. If only you had put more effort in finding another manager. Quiting the club would be so simple then.

Summer practices were the ideal time for mischief. With no homework so much time was left to freely ponder how best to rig the vending machine. At turn you saw a prank practically begging to be pulled. Watermelon dowsed in chilli oil, some salt in a water bottle, volleyball covered with slime that could easily be blamed on sweaty hands, ah the opportunities really were endless. It was the time when your talents shone the brightest.

At least they did in previous years. Now you just want to reorganize the storage and return home as soon as possible.

“Are ya feelin' okay?�� asks Kita after helping you move some very heavy boxes.

Your heart drops. Has he noticed you've barely been holding back tears? “What do you mean?“

“You've been behavin' these last weeks.“

Ah. His reasoning catches you by complete surprise. Part of you wants to laugh, part of you wants to smack him. A part of you is disappointed he hadn't noticed you really need a shoulder to cry on. “Such observational skills Shinsuke, no wonder coach picked you to be the captain.“

“Did somethin' happen between you and-“

“Nothing happened.“

He knows you're lying. The light pat on the head he gives you tells he sees the hurt you've been so thoroughly concealing. Your throat starts itching again and tears threaten to spill before you bite your lip, too stubborn to let them fall.

You take a moment to compose yourself before returning to the gym, glad Aran is nowhere to be seen. Some of your boys are gathered by the bench and you hear the twins arguing. At first you don't care, after all it's a normal occurence. Your curiousity is only sparked once you hear the mention of your name.

“What are they fighting about this time?“ you ask Omimi when you come closer.

Immediate silence falls on the group as they all look at you. Great, what did you do this time?

Atsumu grabs the letter laying on the bench and hands it to you. Your heart drops. You don't have to read it to know what it is.

Your name on the envelope is written so big it's impossible to overlook and it's sealed with a glittery heart sticker.

“Open it, open it,“ urges the blonde and Osamu immediately berates him to leave you be.

You wonder who it could be from. Or maybe you don't want to know. It doesn't fill you with any kind of giddines or anticipation, just with slight nausea accompanied by shaking hands.

You hear a fight erupt behind you.

“Senpai, should we stop them?“ Ginjima points at twins rolling on the ground. You shrug, not really caring what they are up to.

“They could get hurt,“ says Omimi.

“Don't worry Omiren they have no brain so there won't be any permanent damage.“

You stuff the letter in the pocket of your jacket. The tears you've been trying so hard to hold back start running down your cheek and you hurry away before boys could notice.

The letter lies unopened on your bed. You've been contemplating throwing it away on the way home but decided against it. It would be too harsh, throwing someone's feelings away without even considering them. You remove the glittery heart sticker and read the paper inside.

Dear y/n,

you're truly amazin'. Everytime I see ya my day becomes better-

You stop reading. Not because you wouldn't care, but because you recognize the handwriting.

The plan was genius. Bulletproof. Absolutely fantastic without any loopholes and no way of anything possibly going wrong in any way.

All Twins needed to do is make Aran believe someone else is competing for your heart. Stoke his jealousy till it becomes stronger than his utter embarassement over having completely misunderstood your confession.

Only they had no idea you knew the handwriting of everyone on the team in case you ever needed to forge their signature.

Moments after reading the love letter you decide to talk to Osamu the coming day. What point would there be in playing with him? You weren't looking forward to the conversation in the slightest still, better let him down gently as soon as possible.

You try to get him outside after practice ends but his brother doesn't seem pleased only one of them is having your attentin. You grab Osamu's arm, ready to drag him away. “Sorry but we gotta speak in private.“

He doesn't even flinch under your tries to move him. “'Bout what?“

You don't want to do it, but if he refuses to move you had no other choice. You pull out the love letter and watch as all the colour drains from his face. “This.“

“Why would 'Samu know anythin' bout that?“ interferes Atsumu waving frantically and as if that didn't already raise your suspicions he continues to blabber on and on till Osamu stops him.

“Stop Tsumu. We've been found out.“

After they explain their genious plan you need a moment to grasp what is happening. “Okay. Let me get this straight. You thought making Aran jealous would make him confess?“ They nod. “Right. How does me thinking Osamu's got a crush on me help?“

“Yer weren't supposed to know who wrote the letter,“ mummbles Osamu.

“Samu sweetie, you have the most memorable handwriting I've ever seen. By that I mean unreadable. And you used the wrong kanji here, by the way.“

God, when did your boys become such idiots?

“We're sorry.“

If you weren't feeling so many emotions at once you'd find their crushed faces hilarious. Instead you sigh. You're exhausted. And in a need of ice-cream, preferably with some cookies on the side. “Right. Let's never mention this again.“

“Then Aran-san and ya-“

“Aran doesn't like me, alright? It's fine, I'll get over it. Now get your asses back to practice!“

“I never said I didn't like you,“ says a familiar voice from behind your back.

The faces twins make while backing away to leave you alone with Aran make you wish you'd disappear into thin air. It takes all the strength you have to turn. It's the first time in your life you aren't happy to see him. You stand in silence, avoiding his gaze and condidering running away. Aran speaks up before you can act.

“Sorry for avoidin' ya. I've been meanin' to talk with ya but couldn't think of what to say.“ He fidgetes with a rose in his hands. “I'm sorry.“

“Why?“ you weakly ask, unsure if you want to hear the answer.

“When you... confessed. I thought it was a prank. And I never let you explain cause I got scared. I like ya, y/n. But I could never tell if you were messin' around with yer flirtin' or I was just readin' too much into it.“

“Why would I mess around?“

“Well... I never thought you'd actually be interested in me... I mean yer so amazin' ya know. It's no wonder ya have secret admireres. Ya keep track of everythin' the team needs, yer always cheerin' me up when I need it the most.“ His shoulders slump as he utters his next words. “I never believed ya could be in love with someone as borin' as me. I just want ya to know I do like you. More as a friend. Though ya deserve someone better.“

Aran is confessing to you. He is proclaiming his love for you, holding a rose, looking like the prince charming straight out of your dreams. And yet your annoyance grows with every word that comes out of his mouth.

“Excuse me?“ you interrupt. “What the hell do you mean I deserve someone better?“

Your words take him aback. He tries to mummble his way out of this particular pickle but you're having none of it.

“Gosh Aran you can be real impossible sometimes! First of all, how dare youeven think I would ask you out as a joke?! Is that how low of an opinion you have about me?! We're friends for fucks' sake you know me better than that! Second of all, why on earth can't you see I've been head over hills in love with you since we were first years?! And I swear, if I have to hear one more oh I'm nothin' special, I'll throw some hands, you hear me?! You are amazing! The best possible friend one could ask for, you have the patience of a saint, you're fun to be around, and so much more! What do I have to do to get this to stick in your head?! Use super-glue?! I don't want anyone else! I want you.“

Aran looks completely shocked as tears form in his eyes.

Oh no. Now you've done it.

“Please don't cry cause then I'l cry and this will get even more embarassing.“

He chuckles. “Sorry y/n.“ He takes your hand in his. “I really, really want to be your boyfriend.“

You're the one trying not to sob now. Ah, how the tables have turned, you think and nod. You can hear cheering somewhere in the distance but you couldn't care less. You grab Aran’s jacket and pull him down, crashing his lips to yours. They're soft and warm and you don't want to part from him, ever. He hugs you and you're glad he's holding you so close because right now you couldn't stand on your own. When you part he presses a kiss to your nose and then forehead.

“I love you,“ he whispers.

#ojiro aran x y/n #ojiro aran x reader #ojiro aran imagine #aran x reader #aran x y/n #inarizaki x y/n #inarizaki x reader #libri scribbles #hq #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfic #proof reading?#in this house?#aran's growing on me...#what a good guy

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cutekitten6 · 5 years ago

Text

My thoughts on The Letter For The King (netflix)

this will be structured in three parts: what i liked, what i disliked, what could be improved. Warning: CONTAINS SPOILERS

What I liked

Our main character, Tiuri, is the best protagonist. He has had a difficult background and has a little bit of an identity struggle, but through his journey he becomes more and more clear in how he defines himself. He is so sweet and kind and only wants to do the right thing.

That magic is established as a purely Eviellen thing (aka a part of the black culturof the show). It’s not alluded to, it’s merely a fact.

Diversity. I love Iona, our asian girl, Tiuri, our black boy, and Jussoldo, our resident gay couple. None of it felt forced nor was it villainsed. They simply were.

Queen Alianor being queen without any question. She inherited the throne from her father and it is hers. She was inquisitive and charming, and quite daring romantically.

The chase scene in that very clearly Lord of the Rings-type field. It was not only beautiful but thrilling.

Magic horse. Or, not really magic but a damn smart horse

Arman giving Tiuri his peptalk about how Tiuri is a good person and it doesn’t matter if he’s not the Chosen One, what matters is that he is a good person and actively does good deeds.

Jussipo and Foldo’s campfire talk and kiss, and the implication that they did not sleep at all but talked all throughout the night. Their faces with Piak woke up were hilarious.

Iona and Jaro’s relationship from “I fucking hate you” to “I still fucking hate you but fuck if anything happens to you I will feel guilty.” Very fun. It’s like if the Hound and Arya liked each other from the beginning.

What I disliked

Lavinia pt 1. She was interesting at first, but when they were establishing that her town is full of selfish people and people who will weasel their way for money, it just ruined her. She was so selfish, so money oriented, and just so opposite to Tiuri that it really irked me. Tbf she does improve the more she cares for Tiuri, but still.

Lavinia pt 2. I did not like that she was actually the Chosen One. It makes absolutely no sense for her to be the magical savior of prophecy; not when magic was established as purely Eviellen. There was no explanation as to how or why she has powers, unlike for Tiuri.

Bury your gays. This has been shouted from the roof tops in this fandom already, but wow was it truly an unnecessary death. Not only did a gay boy die, but Lavinia (who, in literally the episode before, used HEALING MAGIC to save Tiuri) did absolutely nothing to try and save him. She only watched as he died. -10/10.

The climactic face off between hero(es) and villain was SO FUCKING LAME. They are just staring at each other, using their “powers” but like???? LAMELY. It seemed like they were trying to mimic Aang vs Ozai’s final fight with the darkness and the light fighting, but my god was so so lame. The music, unfortunately, was not as strong in that moment either.

What could be improved

I think 6 episodes were not enough. There were too many things that were unexplained or needed time to develop. 8 episodes could have been ideal.

First, Iona’s betrayal. It felt like it came out of nowhere, or at least out of very petty spite. She decides to call up the authorities because, what? Arman forgot she was an orphan? Nah nah nah, I need more seeds to be sown to believe it. Sure there was what Jaro said to her after the avalanche, but even then she has the same level of “i hate all of you” as before their quest started. Instead we should have seen her get more and more fed up with the group, or feeling more like an outsider.

Second, what the hell did Viridian do to Alianor??? He turns her eyes black and we see absolutely nothing. The next we see her she’s completely fine? Um, no. Either 1. show us what conversation went down between him and her, or 2. give us a small clip of her alone where her eyes turn black again, to make it clear she’s still under his influence.

Third, Piak should have died instead of Jussipo. Tumblr user @thylovelylionheart wrote about this and I agree 100%. You can find it here. Not only does it make sense, but it also brings a clear flashback to when Jussipo/Piak said that their parents would kill Jussipo if Piak was hurt. Parallel that, not Jussipo’s lyric about their[Jussoldo’s] love being carried to the grave smh.

Tiuri should still have magic. Not only is he a shaman’s son, but his mother knew that he was destined for something large. In the last scene we see her in, standing up on the stands as Tiuri is knighted, she looks unhappy. Why? Also the bird flock??? it needs a bit more explaining.

Having more episodes would then invest us with Tiuri’s mother. Alianor said she would still protect her even after she went to the summit. But then we never see Tiuri’s mother in danger?? It would have brought more stakes to the journey, at least for the audience, to know that Tiuri’s last life line could be hurt, even if he didn’t know.

Heck, we could spend an episode with everyone separated again. Lavinia goes off to find her road. It would give us more time to settle for the idea of Lavinia being the Chosen One, since the reveal would still be ep 5. We could have her be alone and meet someone who, idk, shows her the light (haha). Think Toph and Iroh. She’s still selfish but cares for Tuiri, but is not wired to be a savior. So she gets help from, let’s say the Father Monk from the mountains, who helps her prioritise that even if she doesn’t want to save the world, saving one person [Tiuri] would be enough. And she turns up at the palace FOR Tiuri, not because she suddenly gained morals. it makes more sense in terms of how her character development played out.

The final episode should have been a final battle. That’s it.

Overall: The Letter For The King is a meh show. It’s gorgeous and the first 4 episodes are thrilling and exciting. But the show drops the ball in eps 5 and 6 in a way that really ruins the fun you’ve had. Should you watch it? Maybe.

#the letter for the king #the letter for the king netflix #de brief voor de koning #tlftk spoilers #tlftk #mine #lavinia #tiuri #arman #foldo #jussipo #queen alianor #piak #iona

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trashyswitch · 4 years ago

Text

The Puppet, The Bee, and The Secret Lee

Part 2 of Stuffed and Sewed with String

Golden Freddy slowly starts learning how to interact with the other animatronics. But amidst an ice breaker exercise, Marionette meets a tiny bug that reveals itself to be an absolute menace. With her animatronic parts being set up with only 1 entrance/exit, Marionette is left screaming as the bug buzzes around inside her animatronic body.

The request for some sort of part two, was suggested by thelightofdarkness (AO3). Thanks for the prompt!

Marionette and Golden Freddy had been friends for at least 4 years now. They became inseparable since the day Freddy encouraged Marionette to come out so long ago, and the two shy animatronics had created a friendship like no other. Things slowly got more interesting when Golden Freddy was convinced by Marionette, to talk to more people. Golden Freddy was very hesitant and refused to hold long conversations with anyone save for Marionette. But, Marionette was getting to a stage where she wanted to see Golden Freddy react to more people. So, she worked her magic and persuaded to give the other animatronics a try!

So here he was, awkwardly listening to Chica ramble about pizza. What a RiVeTiNg conversation.

“If you could try a pizza flavor, what would you try?” Chica asked.

Freddy smiled and started clapping his hands. “Oh oh oh! Meat lovers!” Freddy replied.

“Classic Pepperoni for me!” Bonnie replied.

“Italian garlic! Everything in me harrt, tells me to try garlic.” Foxy admitted.

“Is it wrong to put steak on a pizza?” Golden Freddy asked.

Marionette looked at him with a smile. “No, it’s not. That sounds like a good idea!” She replied.

“What about you, Marion?” Toy Freddy asked.

Marionette smiled and brought her fingers together. “Hawaiian is my sort of pizza.” She said as she imagined getting a hawaiian pizza at the pizza place.

“Hawaiian?” Bonnie asked.

“Well! We have a Hawaiian over heeerrre!” Foxy reacted.

“That’s the pizza that has pineapple on it.” Golden Freddy added.

Marionette smiled and nodded.

Suddenly, all the animatronics stopped talking and just stared at her. Marionette looked over at the animatronics, and immediately grew uncomfortable. “Uuuuuh...What? Is pineapple on pizza really that weird?”

Freddy pointed to the puppet’s head. “Uuuuuh...there’s something on you.” he told her.

Marionette tilted her head and quickly froze. Her mind had immediately identified the thing by the sound it was making:

BzzzzzzZZZZZZZZzzzzzz…

“BEE!” Golden Freddy yelled.

Marionette looked at the black and yellow bug as it flew around and brought itself in front of her mask eye holes. Eager to get it away, Marionette clapped her hands to kill it.

“Did you get it?” Freddy asked, opening her hand. But the bee wasn’t in her hand. It must’ve flown away. But Marionette wasn’t relieved. She remained frozen and refused to move.

BZZZZZZZZZzzzzzZZZZZZzzzzZZZZZzzzzz…

“AAAAAAH! GETITOUT GETITOUT GET IT OUT!” Marionette shouted, holding her head and sprinting around.

Golden Freddy stared at her with pure confusion on his face. What was even happening?!

Suddenly, Marionette started smacking her own head and shaking it around. Golden Freddy widened his eyes as he finally realized what happened: the bee had managed to get stuck inside Marionette’s head!

“Hold on! I’m coming!” Golden Freddy ran up to Marionette and reached his hand into her eye to try and get the bee out.

Marionette SCREAMED and slapped Goldie in the face!

“HEY! I’m trying to help!” Goldie yelled at her.

“By SHOVING YOUR HAND IN MY EYE?!” Marionette shouted back.

Marionette reached her own hand into her mask shield and tried to get the bee out of there. But feeling cornered, the bee decided to fly down into the endoskeleton to get away from the threatening hand.

Marionette removed her hand. “I can’t find it!” She reacted. “Where could it-”

BzzzzzzZZZZzZZzzzzzZZZZZzzzzzz

Marionette suddenly squealed and struggled to scrunch up her shoulders. “EEEEEHEHEHE!” Marionette started scrunching up her body and covering the mouth on her mask. It looked like Marionette was being possessed by something super bendy and elastic.

All of the animatronics were staring at her in pure confusion and worry. Only Golden Freddy was capable of even speaking up at this point. “Uuuuh...Marion?” he asked.

BzzZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZ-

“IHIT’S STUHUHUCK IHIN MY NEHEHEHECK!” Marionette shouted through bouts of laughter.

Golden Freddy widened his eyes in pure surprise, while the others just burst out laughing! “The bee is tickling her!” Bonnie reacted.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a ticklish lassie!” Foxy reacted.

“WHAHAHAT DOHOHO IHIHIHI DOHOHOHO?!” Marionette asked.

Golden Freddy shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know! Kill it? Squish it with the metal in your neck?” Goldie suggested half-hazardly.

Marionette ran around the room, flopping her arms and stomping her legs up and down like a crazy person. The bee itself didn’t tickle. It was the buzzing sound it was makind that was tickling her so badly! The bee seemed to stay in her neck for a bit, before moving down further to find a way out.

Suddenly:

BzzzzZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzZZZZZZzzzzzZZZZZZ

Marionette shrieked and spazzed her body to the right side. She flopped her body onto the floor, and started laughing and snorting uncontrollably! “AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *snort* NAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE! AHAHAHA- *snort* NOHOHOHOHO *snort* NOHOHOT THEHEHERE! *snort* PLEHEHEHEHEASE!” Marionette started rolling around left and right.

Golden Freddy ran up to her and started to feel around with his thumb. “I can feel the buzzing, but where’s it coming from?” Goldie asked.

“AHAHAHARMPIHIHIHIHIHIT!” Marionette screamed back.

“Armpit? Like this one-” Golden Freddy immediately stopped talking as he felt the strong buzzing feeling through her left armpit. “Ooooooh! Here it is!”

Marionette threw her head back and cackled! “OHOHOFF MEEEEEHEHEHEHEHE!” Marionette screamed, snorting up a storm immediately after.

Golden Freddy just laughed. “How did our friendship manage to last for four years before finding out you were ticklish?!” Golden Freddy asked.

Marionette growled. Now as NOT the time for teasing. “GEHEHEHET IHIHIHIT OHOHOHOHUHUHUT!” Marionette shouted at him.

“Now how in the heck am I gonna do that?! I can’t shove my hand into your eye again. You’re gonna scream and get angry at me!” Golden Freddy reacted.

“DOHOHOHO SOHOHOMETHIHIHIHING!” Marionette begged.

“If you say so!” Golden Freddy started skittering his fingers on the puppet’s very thin waist. Immediately, Marionette arched her back and squealed super high-pitched like a bat. She threw her arms absolutely everywhere while she snorted and cackled wildly under her best friend.

“*snort* NAHAHAHAT THAHAHAHAHAT! *snort* OHOHOHOFF MEHEHEHE *snort* YOHOHOU *snort* EHEHEVIHIHIHIL BEHEHEHEHEHEAR! *snort*”

“Oh, I’m the evil one?” Golden Freddy reacted. “After 4 years of being the one attacked and tickled, I’m the evil one?!” he asked.

“YEHEHEHEHEHEHEHESSSSSS!” Marionette shouted back.

“Well:” Golden Freddy felt the upper chest, right around where her few ribs would be. “Look who just earned herself a raspberry!” Golden Freddy blew a big raspberry onto Marionette’s ribs and just about lost his hearing as a result. Marionette screamed super loudly, and super high pitched to the point of pain! If his hearing was damaged, then this would definitely be the thing to blame.

Despite the potential hearing loss, Golden Freddy was loving every second of this. Marionette going from barely giggling for 4 whole years, to laughing almost madly in 5 seconds?! Hell yeah! And now, Golden Freddy never wants it to end! If he can keep her laughing forever, he probably would!

“Doesn’t it feel good to laugh?” Golden Freddy asked her as he tickled her waist with a single finger.

“TOHOHOHO MUHUHUhuhuhuhuch!” Marionette told him.

BzzzzzzzzZZzzzzzzZZZZzzzzzzzzzZZzzzzz

The bee’s buzzing was starting to lessen and was starting to move around all over again. Whether it buzzed on her socked skeleton cover, or it buzzed on her endoskeleton: Marionette would laugh and snort through all of it. The animatronics had no clue just why Marionette could be tickled in such a way. But there was one thing what they knew for sure:

It was HILARIOUS TO WATCH!

Growing worried for the puppet, Foxy ran towards the back office where the security guard would be. He was about to pop in, but the door was closed and Foxy completely face planted the door.

Ow! How dare!

“Hello?” Foxy yelled, knocking on the door with his hook. “We need help! Marionette needs help!” Foxy yelled at the security guard.

Jeremy widened his eyes and raised both eyebrows. It...talks?

Jeremy slowly clicked the door button, and let it slide open. Foxy peeked his head into the room and went to the tablet. “Looky here.” Foxy told him, showing him the tablet with the camera on the stage room. Jeremy lifted an eyebrow in confusion as he watched what was happening.

Marionette was...laughing and rolling around on the floor???

“What kind of joke did you tell her?” Jeremy asked, trying to figure out why she was laughing so much.

“We didn’t tell her no joke! A beeee got into her system and it’s buzzin’ inside her.” Foxy told him.

“...She’s laughing...because a bee is buzzing inside her…” Jeremy responded, not believing his words for a second.

“Like this:” Foxy walked over and placed his left thumb on his side. He started vibrating his thumb really quickly and moving his thumb around.

Jeremy widened his eyes and doubled over, squealing and clutching his stomach to hide the vulnerable spots. “Stahahap thahahat ihihit tihihicklehes!”

Foxy removed his thumb and let Jeremy put the puzzle pieces together. Jeremy straightened himself out, and widened his eyes. “Ooooooh...Wait, animatronics can be ticklish?!” Jeremy asked.

Foxy groaned and grabbed his hand. “Come on, ya dummy!” Foxy dragged Jeremy out of the office and pulled him all the way down the hallways. Jeremy protested and yelled at him to let go, but soon gave up the fight. FIghting foxy was like trying to fight The Hulk: Not even worth attempting unless you wanna injure yourself.

Finally, the boys made it to the back of the stage. Foxy let him go and showed him the Marionette puppet. She was starting to grow mentally tired from laughing so much. She could feel her systems starting to overheat a little. “PLEHEHEHEHEASE HEHEHEHELP!” She begged.

Jeremy widened his eyes and knelt down to the ground. “Alright, alright. I think I know what to do.” Jeremy admitted.

He looked around for a button to remove the head and the waist of the suit. It didn’t take long for him to find the first button to remove the mask. Jeremy removed the mask and placed it down. But he immediately widened his eyes and stared at her endoskeleton skull. It was...very creepy, nonetheless. Ironically enough, Marionette would be less scary with the eyeless mask on rather than off.

Jeremy tried to work with Marionette’s wiggling and laughing as he looked for a button to undo the waist part. This was a little harder because there was no clear button on the puppet like there was for the mask.

But thankfully, Golden Freddy decided to help him out. Golden Freddy walked up to Jeremy and clicked the 2nd puppet button on Marion’s chest. Amazingly, this made a clicking sound and unlocked her waist piece. “Thank you Goldie.” Jeremy told him.

“No problem.” Golden Freddy replied, patting the human’s back lightly.

Jeremy removed the waist and sure enough: a black and white bug flew right out of the puppet’s middle. To be specific: it was thin and wasn’t furry like a bee normally be. It was an asshole bug: a wasp.

“Frickin’ wasps...” Jeremy muttered. Jeremy took off his hat and used the cap to carefully lead the tiny but evil bug towards the door. He opened the door, and let the wasp fly right out to its freedom. “There. It’s gone. Now it can’t terrorize you anymore.” Jeremy told them.

Jeremy walked back up to Marionette and helped clip her waist plate back onto her middle. The puppet’s endoskeleton was warm to the touch, and it looked like there was a small amount of smoke coming from the small engine in her lower torso. It looked like it had overheated a little. Jeremy decided to put the middle cover down, and put the mask onto her first to cover up the SUPER creepy metal skull underneath.

Jeremy clipped the mask on. “Feeling better?” Jeremy asked.

Marionette nodded. “Thank you.” She told him.

“No problem.” He replied.

Jeremy let her torso engine cool down in the cool room behind the stage, and clipped the waist plate back onto her middle when the engine stopped smoking. Jeremy helped the animatronic up after that.

“You feeling okay now?” Golden Freddy asked.

“Yeah, do you feel overheated?” Foxy asked.

Marionette giggled and pointed at Golden Freddy first. “Yes, I’m okay.” She pointed at Foxy next. “I don’t feel overheated anymore.”

“That’s good.” they both said, somewhat overlapping each other.

Later on, Marionette would end up becoming friends with Foxy. Though their relationship would never be as close as Marion and Goldie’s relationship, it would still be a little more than a friendly friendship. Soon, Golden Freddy started to respect Foxy and his thoughts on life. He would compliment his slightly stereotyped accent, his hook that seemed to get sharper and sharper every time he saw him, and would poke him and treat him like a pushy kind of brother.

Before they knew it, Foxy was a proud ally to the shy duo of friends. He became a part time third, who also spent time with the Freddy Fazbear band! It was cool to see different animatronics interacting with each other in the same building. Jeremy and the other security guards after him, would grow to hope this friendship would last forever with little fights.

#ticklefic #ler!bug #literally just a random bug #ler!goldenfreddy #lee!marionette #slight lee!jeremy #male-female friendships #platonic male/female relationships #platonic male/male relationships #fluff

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