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tinytiger · 5 months

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The Hobbit - A Kili x F!Reader Fanfic

Masterlist

Roast Dwarf

Y/n wakes to Fili, Kili, and Bofur's wake-up call and quickly joins the dwarves on their journey. As they travel, there's a hint of attraction between Y/n and Kili. The group encounters trolls, leading to Gwen's capture. Kili and the dwarves rescue her with Gandalf's help, turning the trolls to stone. After the ordeal, Kili checks on Y/n, who's bruised but okay, and they share playful banter as they continue their journey.

TW- Blood, violence, capture.

Words- 2275

Y/n was woken up by three pairs of hands shaking her, she opened her green eyes to see Fili, Kili, and Bofur smiling down at her. She sat up and looked at the clock on the mantel piece. It had just turned seven. She jumped off the sofa and run over to the hall to find her cloak, bow, and dagger. She put them on, then she walked out the door.

The bright early morning sun shone down on her face, and she smiled. The odd hobbit or two was walking around the little village and when they passed Y/n they waved. She picked up her sword from the chair and went untie Stumpy.

When she arrived back at the Hobbit Hole, she saw that all of the dwarves were walking out of the gate and down the path that led to the entrance of Hobbiton. Her hair was down as she galloped through the little village that had been her home for a very long time. She kept going until she was out of the village,

“Hey, guys, w-“As she turned around she saw that she had left the dwarves behind. Laughing, she got off Stumpy and leaned against a tree waiting for the crew to catch up.

When they finally did, Thorin had a smile on his face. Kili and Fili trotted up to her and continued the trip at her side. She kept looking back to see if Bilbo was coming but every time her shoulders slumped.

“How much you bet that he isn’t coming?” Y/n heard Dori say to Nori.

“I bet that he is!” Kili shouted,

“I bet 20 silvers.” He finished giving Y/n a side look, winking.

After everyone had made their bets they all turned to Y/n, apart from Thorin. He was listening and every time someone said they were betting for him to come he would shake his head. Y/n had noticed this and then an idea popped into her head,

“Hey Thorin!” she shouted gaining everyone’s attention, the raven hair king turned on his horse and looked at her, “I bet 70 silver that he does come, but it has to be from you!”

Everyone stopped at looked at her like she was crazy. She glared at Bofur as he whispered to Kili, whose jaw had dropped to the floor.

“Or are you scared to lose?” Y/n said with a wide smirk on her face. The clearing was quiet then Thorin said with a smirk that could match the girls,

“It’s on!”

They had been riding for about ten minutes until a small voice sounded and said to stop. Recognising the voice Y/n span around to see Bilbo running after them with his red coat flowing in the wind.

“Bilbo!” she shouted at him, but he glared at her.

She looked down and knew she was going to be told off later. They began to walk again and she galloped up to Thorin to reclaim her price. When she arrived, he sighed and fuddled with his pocket and brought out a very large bag of silver.

“How do I know that there is 70 in there?” She said taking the bag out of his calloused fingers.

“Just trust me, N/N” Chuckling, she tied it to her belt. She turned around to see Bilbo in the middle of Kili and Fili.

As the company rode through the hobbit lands, they swapped stories, sang, and occasionally stopped for meals- which Biblo found wasn’t often enough. The sun was shining, the horse wasn’t too grumpy, and the may air ran its fingers through Y/n's hair.

Kili, who was next to Y/n, kept throwing glances at her as she walked next to him. The f/c of her trousers always caught his eyes when her horse went into a slight canter. His stomach would flip at the sight of her smile, and his heart beat quicker if they accidentally bumped shoulders or whenever she was practising her archery. Little did he know that there was a war similar to his happening in the girl's head as well.

Y/n constantly saw the looks Kili gave her, and she had to admit, she was doing the same. He was just too good-looking to not stare at. His jaw could cut her but was covered in tickly stubble. He was quite tall for a dwarf, he was so young and free. He was a child at heart, and that was what made her heart melt when he and Fili would run off with the elders smiling.

Thorin caught the looks the two gave each other and smiled to himself. He always thought that Kili would be a bachelor for life, but now he saw himself in his nephew. Chasing after a girl, like he used to do to Namath.

Then it rained, oh how it rained. The hood on Y/n ’s head was doing little to keep the rain out of her face. She was worried that Stumpy would get grumpy and throw her off. He hated the rain, and so did she. She got cold easily. Thorin finally put up his hand and grumbled,

“We will camp here, Fili, Kili tend to the horse. Bombur make dinner, Gloin make sure he doesn’t eat it. We are all hungry.”

The dwarves set of the to their jobs while Thorin and Gandalf got into a heated argument, resulting in him stamping away like a little child, cursing at the dwarves under his breathe.

The soup was made, and all of the dwarves were digging into it, Y/n took two bowls from Balin to give to Fili and Kili. Bilbo came with her so she could eat hers with the two.

As they walked over to the clearing they were in, Bilbo cleared his throat.

“You like him, don’t you?” he said giving his daughter a sideways glance,

Y/n ’s face flared up, but she replied sassily,

“Define him, Dad, there are like 11 dwarves.” She looked down at Bilbo who chuckled and nodded his head towards their destination.

“Kili. You were never like that with any of the boys back in Hobbiton.”

Y/n sighed, lifting her head she walked over a tree stump and saw Kili and Fili leaning on a tree log looking at a path ahead of them,

“Because I had grow up with the boys back in Hobbiton.” She whispered and silently creeped towards the two dwarves

“BOO!” she shouted and the two jumped before pulling down onto the floor so she wouldn’t be spotted by the thing they were hiding from.

Laughing quietly, she swivelled around and saw a massive mountain troll stomping past holding a horse in either hand.

“They have got Mindy and Myrtle!” Bilbo whispered in a hushed tone, “What are we gonna do?” he looked at the three younglings in front of him and they all turned around at the same time with mischievous smiles on their faces.

Kili stood up and whispered, “Well as our official burglar, you could go get them back.”

With a sudden flash of green, Y/n was over the log and running towards the light that the troll had stomped to.

“Wait, Y/n ”

“Y/n get back here now.”

“Mahal, give me strength”

Y/n ran off dodging trees and with a smile on her face she stopped right at the end of the clearing. She heard someone behind her a guessed it was Bilbo.

“Are you mad!” he hissed as he squatted down next to her.

“No, just not wasting time.” She said and ran over to where Myrtle was being kept. With her dragger she cut through the rope. Cheering quietly, she looked over to were Bilbo should have been.

He wasn’t.

Instead, he was standing at the side of a troll and reaching to get the large craving knife from his pocket. What is he doing?

“Bilbo no!” she hissed trying get his attention.

The troll was moving his large arm to get the knife and Bilbo didn’t see.

Quickly, Y/n sprinted across the clearing and pushed Bilbo out of the way. Only to be grabbed by the troll herself.

His grip on her waist tight and she couldn’t breathe properly

“Here, look at what was picking my pockets, Bert!” It shouted like a young child who had just won a toy at a fair. Y/n wiggled around but the grip only tightened.

“What is it?” one said

“Its an elf!”

“Too small to be an elf”

“Nah, look at the ears.”

Y/n was trying to reach into her thigh holster to grab her dagger when one of the trolls grabbed her leg and hung her upside down. Her cloak fell over her face.

“ Put me down! Now!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

She went to grabbed her dagger but only to find that it had fallen out of her holster.

“Oh, gravity aren’t thou a mythic bitch.” She muttered under her breath. The trolls were still arguing over how they should eat her when Kili suddenly jumped through a bush, wielding his swords through the air, and cried

“Drop her!”

The trolls looked at him in utter confusion.

“You what?”

“I said. Drop her.” Kili replied with a shit eating grin on his face.

Then all of the company and Bilbo ran into the clearing and the troll holding Y/n by her leg threw her at Kili. The two collided and laned in the dirt a couple of meters away from the trolls. Y/n lifted her head and glared at Kili, who was beneath her.

“Drop her?! ” she shouted at him, Kili just laugher but rolled the two over as Oin was throw in their direction.

“Hey, at least you’re not in its nasty hands anymore.” He chuckled at her while moving a bit of hair out of her face.

The two blushed.

“Oh, will you two stop making goo-goo eyes at each other?” Dwalin yelled as the duo got off each other and ran into the fight.

Y/n ran over to help Balin fight his troll. The fight was going well. She slid towards the troll that had grabbed her and slashed at his legs, causing a monstrous roar to echo through the clearing. She laughed as she got up onto a rock and got ready to shoot the troll in the eye, when yet again a large two pairs of hands grabbed a leg and arm each hand.

“Drop your arms or we will rip hers off!” they shouted at the dwarves who had crowed around them.

With a chink of metal all of the dwarves laid down their arms, Ori was dramatic as always. And they were all tumbled into a bag with Y/n still being held in the hand of the first troll, very pissed.

Bilbo was trying to stop them from eating everyone and the excuse were not going well with the dwarves.

“The secret to cooking dwarf is Ummm.”

“Yes.”

“I’m telling you, is to…. Skin them first!” Bilbo shouted looking at the dwarves.

The uproar from the dwarves was hilarious and Y/n had to keep her laughter in.

Luckily, one of the trolls disagree with him and the whole argument started again.

Then a troll picked up Bombur and Y/n had an idea and slight payback. As she opened her mouth she saw a figure with a grey hat run past, Gandalf. She needs to buy time.

“Wait no, not him he is infected. His got worms in his….tubes! In fact, they all have parasites, I wouldn’t risk it.” She said, trying to help her friends. With that Bombur was dropped onto the group and landed on Kili.

"Did she say parasites!?" Ori said to Kili

"WE don't have parasites! YOU have parasites!" Kili shouted at her

Y/n rolled her eyes and looked at Thorin with a ‘Please tell your dim-witted kin to shut the hell up’ look

Thorin caught the look and understood, she was buying them time. He then kicked Kili in the backside. The all stopped wriggling and shouting and looked up at their King, had the same look on his face.

Then finally they all understood.

“I’ve got parasites as big as my arm!” Oin screams

“Mine are the biggest parasites! I have huge parasites!” Kili shouts as he wriggles a bit more.

The shouting went on for a bit of who got the biggest parasites until

“Dawn will take you all!” Gandalf stood on a rock and smashed his walking stick into the grown and let the light of day spread into the clearing turning the trolls into stone.

Luckily, the troll holding Y/n used both of his hands to cover his eyes. She fell to the floor, hard. She rubbed her butt. Ouch, I’m now glad I landed on Kili before she thought.

The company helped each other out with the bags and the roasting stick. When Kili had got out of the bag with help from his uncle, he ran over to Y/n to check if she was okay.

“You okay?” he asks as he reaches out his arm to pull her to her feet,

She had a couple of bruises on her waist, but she had fallen on rock and her right hip was bleeding. Hissing, she picked up her sword and dagger.

“If I survive this, can I go home?” Y/n asked sarcastically as she walked past him

#kili x reader #kili durin #xreader #hobbit

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cinnabun-faerie · 2 years

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Tbh now I’m curious about the harem and their sick kid bc that sounds like a chaotic mess

A/N: Oh it would be a chaotic mess.

Y/C/N = Your Child's Name

Okay so if their kid gets sick, they're going to each try to be the one to care for their child

it's just a matter of whose going to get there first

if there are stairs in the home then I'd imagine two of them (Zenos & Estinien) are going to try to throw each other or the others down them

there is no such thing of acting civilized when it's dad vs dad in this household

and they are all striving for that title of "best dad"

honestly it takes you to step in and tell them to knock it off to get them to stop

you can never leave the four of them alone in fear that the house may be destroyed

"Y/C/N is sleeping. You best be quiet or else."

Estinien would say that he has something else to do which none of them find suspicious

but they should honestly because he's climbing the tree outside to get through the window

I mean at this point he'll enter and exit through windows instead of doors because they're more convinient

honestly your child likes to call him Peter Pan cause of those story books that Aymeric reads him

anyways, he goes in and checks in on Y/C/N, who is surprisingly awake and sipping on some water

"How are you feeling?"

"Not good, papa."

when Y/C/N would burst into tears from their sore throat or just the icky feeling, he would cuddle them

honestly Estinien is the most worried whenever it comes to Y/C/N since he had already lost his family once before. He did not want to lose your child or even you or even the other three men

yes even Zenos

Meanwhile Zenos would be asking you about what medicines your child had and when they were supposed to be taken

perhaps another doctor should be called just to see if there were any changes

he might even go to tell your child how strong they were and that this sickness was no match for them

"You are not weak Y/C/N. You are very strong. Never give up and never let the enemy win."

Haurchefant would be happily making something in the kitchen for your child to eat

some soup recipe that his family had

although hot chocolate was more his forte, tea was far more suited for this situation

Aymeric on the other hand would head upstairs to read to Y/C/N

it was always some sort of fairytale book

besides, it always seemed to make Y/C/N happy

honestly as long as they were happy, he was happy

honestly he admired their long for a storybook adventure

"Papa, I want to go on an adventure just like the storybook character."

"You'd be an excellent adventurer. But you'd need to first get well and take your medicine."

As they are too afraid of your wrath, they would all be on their best behaviour

or they'd try

at some point small arguements of who would get more blankets or who would get the medicine/food would ensue

and just hearing your footsteps coming upstairs would be enough for all of them to stop

if they all got tired/exhausted while taking care of Y/C/N, they would fall asleep somewhere in the room

Estinien would be asleep holding your child in either their bed or in the rocking chair

he was the warmest and that was best for your child right now

Haurchefant would be seated on the floor, his head rested against the wall, sleeping soundly

funnily enough, one of your child's soft toys would be supporting his head

Aymeric would in another chair but he would have his arm up to support his chin and you could tell that his elbow was slipping little by little

and Zenos was for some reason spralled out all over the floor in a pile of soft plush dolls/toys with a tiny blanket over his chest

you'd chuckle when you'd see all of them like this

you'd be proud of them for being there for Y/C/N

#ffxiv #ffxiv headcanons #ffxiv dads #haurchefant greystone #aymeric de borel #estinien varlineau #zenos yae galvus

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euterpessi · 3 years

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Romance Manhwa/Manga Recommendations:

Historical Manhwa/Manga:

Death Is The Only Ending For The Villainess

I’ve reincarnated as the reverse harem game’s villainess, the one and only adopted daughter of the ducal Eckart family.

But the difficulty just has to be the worst!

Everything I do will only lead me to death.

I must be paired with one of the main male characters from the heroine’s harem before the ‘real daughter’ of the duke family appears!

Two older brothers who always pick a fight with me on every little thing.

The insane crown prince whose route will always lead to my death.

‘I only see the heroine and no one else’s wizard, and also her loyal slave knight, too!

‘First, let’s take some of them which I see no hope in, out of the list!’

“I didn’t know my place up until now. From now on, I’ll live as quiet as a mouse so you wouldn’t care the slightest bit!

But why do their interests in me keep on rising every time I draw the line?!

The Villainess is a Marionette

Cayena, the Imperial Princess, was known as the most beautiful woman in the Empire. She was a woman who knew nothing but evil and luxury.

However, she was destined for ruin: she would be used as a chess piece by her younger brother to secure his throne and killed by her crazy husband.

“I’ll make you the Emperor.”

“… Sister, are you referring to me?”

“In exchange, give me freedom.”

She had to change things before she became that Cayena.

The Reason Why Raeliana Ended Up At The Duke’S Mansion

Poisoned to death by her own betrothed?! Eunha didn’t wake up in a novel’s story just to get killed off again as an unfortunate extra! To change her story she needs a cover… 6 months pretending to be the fake fiancée of the novel’s male protagonist, Duke Noah Wynknight. But will this cold-hearted, angel-faced demon of a man really help her avoid another ill-fated ending?!

Your Throne / I Want to Be You, Just For A Day

The story follows main characters Medea Solon and Psyche Callista, who become archenemies after competing for the position of crown princess of the Vasilios Empire. On the day of the Yearly Prayer, Medea and Psyche accidentally switch bodies.

The Remarried Empress

Navier was the perfect empress, however, the Emperor wanted a wife, not a colleague. And so, the Emperor abandoned Empress Navier and placed an enslaved girl beside him. That was fine until Navier heard the Emperor promise the slave the Empress’ position. After many ups and downs, Navier decided she would accept being the Queen of the neighbouring country and remarry.

Kill The Villainess

Eris Mizerian was the villainess of a novel. The only daughter of a marquis, she got executed after scheming against the pure and lovely protagonist, Helena. My only goal, after possessing her, is simply to leave this world and go home. I am prepared to face even death, but the laws of this world keep stopping me.

A changed Eris begins to draw the attention of three men who once loathed her; the Crown Prince, the High Priest, and the Knight.

"It doesn't matter. I will never be able to love this world."

Even if the only way out is death,

even if the only way out is make a deal with a witch...

I will absolutely leave this world!

This is the story of the villainess who defies fate, Eris, and her escape from this world!

The Way To Protect The Female Lead's Older Brother

I accidentally took possession of someone in a 19+ reverse harem novel.

The problem is that I became Roxana Agriche, the older sister of the sub-villain. My damn father kidnapped the heroine’s brother. Now, is the only thing left to meet a terrible end from the vengeance of the heroine?

But what if I can avoid that horrible development?

“I’m also interested in this toy.”

“I’ll protect you until you can get out of here safely.”

The heroine’s brother, Cassis Pedalian, will definitely be able to pay me back later.

Shadow Queen

“Can you be my daughter for me?”

By his offer, Elena became Duke of Franceschi’s fake daughter.

She became the queen and gave birth to Crown Prince’s son.

Then suddenly, Princess Veronica who was assumed dead came back.

She was only just a toy.

But eventually, Elena gets her son taken and is murdered.

However, she went back to the past.

“I’ll destroy all of you.”

I’ll never live as a toy again.

Elena decides to seeks revenge.

Under the Oak Tree

The daughter of a duke, the stuttering Maximilian, married a knight of lowly status at her father’s coercion.

After their first night, her husband departed for an expedition without another word.

He comes back three years later, this time as a famous knight in the whole continent.

How would Maximilian face him on his return?

"The more I think of you, the more lonely and lonely I become. I don't know why I can't quit even though it's so painful."

I'm Stanning The Prince

Angela’s fanfic became such a sensation that it even reached the Imperial Family, leading her to get arrested on charges of treason. Nevertheless, her fanfic improved the First Prince’s image, and his sister, the Princess, decides to take political advantage of this and keep Angela by their side.

The heroine who can now fangirl to her heart’s content, and the Prince who doesn’t know how to act around her. As they bicker back and forth, they start growing closer…

Miss Not-So Sidekick

Hyejung loved to read to escape her daily stress. But that’s before she woke up inside the bizarre world of her favorite novel! Instead of the main heroine who courts three eligible men, she is now Latte Ectrie – a minor villain that everyone hates?! One way or another, it’s a chance to live out her most beloved storyline, with popcorn in hand to watch all the drama! Taking charge of the narrative takes on a whole new meaning!

Even Though I’M The Villainess, I’ll Become The Heroine!

I wasn’t able to overcome the harassment and took my life, but I was reincarnated with the perpetrator? The perpetrator is the heroine, Florre, and I am the villainess, Dahlia, who’s going to die horribly.

“They said you are a villain with neither blood nor tears, but unlike the rumors, you often shed tears.”

“Your Highness must believe all the nonsense the idiots are talking about, huh?”

Grand Duke of Cervian, the half brother of the Male lead and who will be punished for treason afterwards. He approached me. I can’t lose the man who will be my greatest ally.

“Your Highness, would you marry me?”

“Now…… what did you say?”

“And take revenge together.”

A similar situation, a fixed ending. The heroine is not the only one who knows the ending of the novel. I took a long and arduous path of revenge.

Who Made Me A Princess

The beautiful Athanasia was killed at the hands of her own biological father, Claude de Alger Obelia, the cold-blooded emperor! It’s just a silly bedtime story… until one woman wakes up to suddenly find she’s become that unfortunate princess! She needs a plan to survive her doomed fate, and time is running out. Will she go with Plan A, live as quietly as possible without being noticed by the infamous emperor? Plan B, collect enough money to escape the palace? Or will she be stuck with Plan C, sweet-talking her way into her father’s good graces?!

The Villainess Reverses the Hourglass

With the marriage of her prostitute mother to the Count, Aria’s status in society skyrocketed immediately. After leading a life of luxury, Aria unfairly meets death because of her sister Mielle’s schemes. And right before she dies, she sees an hourglass fall as if it were a fantasy. And just like that, she was miraculously brought back to the past.

“I want to become a very elegant person, just like my sister, Mielle.”

In order to face the villainess, she must become an even more wicked villainess. This was the new path Aria chose to take revenge on Mielle who murdered both her and her mother.

The Evil Lady's Hero

Junipe Magnolia, a villainess friend of the heroine in this novel called Rael Cania.

The Junipe inside the novel has always loved the male lead, Iseed. To the point where she harassed Rael out of jealousy because she's loved by Iseed.

And thus, Junipe is destinied to die in the hands of the male lead of this novel.

But one day.

"Why did I become Junipe?!"

But let's think about it, it's still one year away from the time Junipe is going to get killed by Iseed. So, I have to meet Iseed and Rael first, I'll be able to find a way out of my death if I do so.

Yeah, let's meet them first!

But, this man is just so tender-hearted and kind. Would Junipe be able to escape from this man?!

I Tamed a Tyrant and Ran Away

God gave me a chance to relive my life. Before the rebirth, I had been used for the past 400 years as the empire's sword. And so, I swore to destroy the empire. I found the young prince of the country and became his teacher. I taught him how to become a tyrant and asked for the country.

"I will do the lady's will."

He conquered the whole empire for me, and I ran away.

"I came to take you, Charlize Ronan." Dylan became a perfect tyrant and searched the entire empire for me.

"You tamed me, so why did you run away?"

Untouchable Lady

“Please, Hilise. Please die in place of Gabrielle.” My always dignified brother begged me for the first time. He wants me to die for our stepsister, whom we don't even share a drop of blood with. “For the first and last time, I ask you this.” I've always been miserable, and there is no exception this time. The seventh time that I was betrayed and killed, I was completely free of lingering feelings. “I'm glad that you're a scumbag until the end.” I won't be swayed by love anymore. It's my turn to abandon them first.

I’ll Live On As A Villainess

I reincarnated as the villainess in a book!

The one who dared to commit attempted murder on the heroine is the owner of this body?

Let's just live in a quiet place where we have fun and eat! That's what I thought for a while.

It was so, so, so cold here in the north, where I was kicked out as a punishment.

Before I froze to death, I called the Great Demon of Fire and set fire to the fireplace but...

Why isn't he going back? If you've done the job, shouldn't you go back?!

I was flustered to find out that I had signed a life contract with a demon just to start a fire but to think that I'd be responsible for relieving his desires!

The bickering romance between a big puppy demon and a small villainess lady!

It Looks Like I’Ve Fallen Into The World Of A Reverse Harem Game

When I opened my eyes, I was in a different world. I had become the game’s villainous princess who was feared by all. Not to mention… Completely naked men I didn’t even know were approaching me left and right! “Are you cold? Shall I warm you up with a hug?” “Oh? Have you not had enough yet?” Seriously, what’s up with this situation? And just how the hell am I going to get out of this freaking game?!

Father, I Don't Want to Get Married!

I’m Jubelian? The daughter of the duke and the villainess of this novel?

I managed to avoid my death with some previous knowledge about my life, as this was my second time at it. Now, I should be able to live a peaceful life!

“I’m not going to marry a man unless he has everything. I want the most wealthy, famous, and competent man there is.”

I dreamt of a glamorous life as the daughter of the duke, but my father tells me the Crown Prince who is known to be a lunatic is to be my husband! As an extraordinary measure, I couldn’t help but start a contract relationship. That is, with a handsome side character that looks better than the main one.

“Why are you trying to avoid being engaged to the prince?”

“He’s scary. I heard that he even kills his own entourage if he doesn’t like them.”

A few days later, the prince sent a terrible letter to me.

“I will not kill you.”

Oh no, did I set up another death trap for myself?

Like A Wind On A Dry Branch

"Hi, You."

Count Casarius fell victim to a plague and died suddenly, leaving behind a will stating that Rietta, his beautiful young widow of the manor, whom he tried to use as a concubine, be buried alive alongside him. Just before Rietta is buried, Archduke Axias, rumored to be a cruel tyrant, arrives at the funeral to collect the enormous debt Count Casarius still owes him.

“Everyone here seems to feel sorry for her, and I still have a debt to collect from Casarius… If I take her instead of debt, I think all of you here should be happy," he smiled.

"Hello, Temptress."

Everything was a Mistake

Roa Valrose reincarnated as villainess in the book. In order to avoid the fate of being burned at the stake, she approaches the hero, Nocton Edgar.

It hurts every time she gets closer to him. Nevertheless, for her survival, she does everything he wants her to do.

“Come again, Valrose.”

The mysterious Nocton unexpectedly sought her out every day.

Then one day, her friend for 10 years says something unknown to her.

“Actually, I have a dream. The Duke of Edgar is a terrible villain!”

He is not the hero, but the villain?

As soon as she realized that she had misinterpreted the role, she decided to get away from Nocton.

“Let’s not meet anymore.”

But the villain’s reaction was strange.

“Don’t go. You’ve always been special to me.”

She was suspicious of his sudden change of attitude.

Will she able to get rid of Nocton safely?

I Became the Tyrant's Secretary

I became the secretary of a tyrant in place of my clumsy brother to survive.

But I have so much potential for it. I’m so darn good at my job. Because I served the tyrant so well, ‘Everyone has a happy ending’.

Well then, shall I quit being a secretary and live a leisurely life now?

“Rosaline, tell me what you want.” He asked as he stepped down from his chair.

“I want to quit.”

His eyebrows twitched slightly.

“Do you want to die?”

Your highness, you never hold on to people who want to leave, so why’re you being like this to me?

Seduce the Villainess Father

After being in a bus crash, I woke up to the world of my favourite web novel.

Not only that, It was before the protagonists were born, to their parents’ world!

To stop the incoming multiple bad events.

I tried to prevent the kidnapping of the sister who is pregnant with the female lead!

But I got kidnapped instead?!

It's depressing to be kidnapped, but my body couldn't handle the mana and became a sunfish-like state

But... if I am next to the emperor who kidnapped me, my body becomes normal!

Right! The way to save that man from marrying a witch and getting killed by his son, and for someone who is vulnerable to mana such as myself to live, is for us to get married!

The Villains Savior

Set on a path to tragedy and misfortune from a young age, Aseph Randell is doomed to die a villain. That is, until the mysterious Elzay Tiathe appears in his life with a promise: "I can save you." After having vivid visions of him for so long, can Elzay untangle the twisted fate tied to Aseph... or will they both be dragged down together?

Contemporary Manhwa/Manga:

Night Crying Crow

This woman; who is she?

If something was action, it'd be action. If something was romance, it’d be romance. The A-list actor Cheon Woo Kang, who's great at every (genre), had his heart stolen away by an unknown woman who’d broken into his house!

“We'll meet again.~"

Woo Kang contracted an over imaginative illness as he drew the woman, whose name he didn't even know. In front of Woo Kang, she reappeared as the police officer Park Tae... Could the shadow of the crisis that appeared in front of them be a coincidence?

Raise wa Tanin ga Ii

Yoshino Somei would have been a normal high-schooler if not for the fact that she is the granddaughter of the leader of the Osaka-based Somei Group, the Kansai region's largest yakuza organization. One day, Yoshino hurries home after hearing of the news about the unification of Kansai and Kanto's biggest syndicates, the Somei and the Miyama groups. This, according to the article, will result in a marriage of the leaders' grandchildren—one of whom is Yoshino herself! Despite her best efforts to annul the arrangement, Yoshino has to go to Tokyo to visit her fiancé, Kirishima Miyama, who is unexpectedly nice and charming.

During their first meeting, Yoshino is swept up in various events and becomes unable to refuse moving to Tokyo, which is why, half a year later, she now lives with the Miyama group. At school, she soon realizes that Kirishima is very popular, so her relationship with him garners the hate of his fangirls and subsequently results in bullying. To make matters worse, Kirishima could not be further away from her prince charming since he, after all, was born to be a yakuza member.

Raise wa Tanin ga Ii follows Yoshino and her new life in Tokyo that is filled with nothing but troubles connected to the underworld. However, though she wishes to be as far from it as possible, this isn't Yoshino's first time dealing with the world of the Yakuza...

Positively Yours

To Hee-won’s dismay, the BFF she crushed on and her other BFF are now dating! Seriously bummed, Hee-won decides to go wild just one time, and find solace with a handsome stranger. A very satisfying one night affair has now turned into more — she’s pregnant! Fate brings them together again, and now the regimented Doo-joon is determined to do the right thing and marry her. But they’re basically strangers! Except... their bodies have been very intimately acquainted. What’s this mother-to-be to do?

True Beauty

After binge-watching beauty videos online, a shy comic book fan masters the art of makeup and sees her social standing skyrocket as she becomes her school’s prettiest pretty girl overnight. But will her elite status be short-lived? How long can she keep her real self a secret? And what about that cute boy who knows her secret?

Cheese In the Trap

Hong Sul is a ordinary college student. Yoo Jung is the school's most popular upperclass man. He's good looking, rich, smart, and even nice. However, Hong Sul thinks there's more to Yoo Jung than what meets the eye…

SPY x FAMILY

The master spy codenamed has spent his days on undercover missions, all for the dream of a better world. But one day, he receives a particularly difficult new order from command. For his mission, he must form a temporary family and start a new life?! A Spy/Action/Comedy about a one-of-a-kind family!

Doppio Senso (18+)

“What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking about a guy.”

KyungHyun stopped in the middle of a deep kiss and sighed. His lips began to form a smile, but his fierce glare said otherwise. Possessiveness and jealousy spread across his sculpted face.

“Will you tell me his name?”

His easygoing and languid voice reached her ears.

“Why?”

“So that I can shoot him down.”

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siempre-bucky · 3 years

Text

I.I.G.Y.M.H.W.Y.T.I.A.M.M.T.H.M.I.T.W?

COWBOY!BUCKY X READER

♡if I gave you my hand would you take it and make me the happiest man in the world?

Summary: Nat and Wanda take the reader post break up to The Stark Ranch, a beautiful little place in the lush green countryside. God she hated it, she didn't want to be here only wanted him back. With one dip of a black cowboy hat and a deep-voiced greeting, the readers brooding would have to wait.

Part 1 of 3

Warnings: light mentions of past abuse,

WC: 3.8k

A/N: there was a tiktok and it was just cowboy Sebastian Stan and this fucking song!! Here's a thing I can't stop thinking about! I edited this the best I could.

In the long, rich history of bad ideas, this had to be the worst idea anyone has ever had. Here she was, squished in between her best friends in the back of an Uber. An old country song from the 60s played on the radio as the two redheads gushed about the small town they were driving through. The most popular restaurant back in Brooklyn probably had more people inside it than this little country town.

"Are you done brooding?" Wanda complains, her Sokovian accent purely intensified the distaste in her tone.

"All I want is John, back," Y/N mutters bitterly, her jaw clenched, sinking lower into the seat. Both women roll their eyes at her comment.

"You haven't stopped mentioning Walker since we got off the plane. It's been 2 months Y/N," Natasha reminds her, checking her watch that was peaking from her black leather jacket. "Don't forget this is why we're here! A getaway is just what you need."

Has it already been 2 months? It only felt like 2 weeks since he left. His last words still sent a chill down her spine "Did you really expect me not to cheat, Y/N? It's New York, get used to it, babe." Y/N shakes her head, trying to get that man's callous words out of her head. She felt like she was already at the acceptance of the grieving process. She clearly wasn't there.

Natasha suddenly gasps, the Stark Ranch coming into view with its black iron gates, its name the biggest thing on it. Y/N looks in Nat's direction, the 4 story red and yellow inn sat in the middle of a long dirt road and was nuzzled in with the saturated green grass and big trees. Y/N thought it was pretty but she would never admit that to her friends.

"Ladies you have a good time out here! I reckon you'll find our little town quite charmin'!" The older man tells them happily as his car comes to a stop in front of the inn. The girls give him their thanks and get out to take a look at the place.

Nat's hand shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked up the place, a confident smile on her face since she picked out this place in the middle of nowhere. Wanda stood in the middle with her hands in her pockets and a relaxed smile. As for Y/N? she might as well have a dark cloud hanging over her. It smelled like grass and horses, her black ankle boots were covered in dust, and worst of all...Natasha blocked John's number. "Relaxation awaits girls!" Nat cheers as she leads her small pack into the front doors of the inn.

The inside was just a cute as the outside, country-style couches placed in the center with a mahogany coffee table littered in doilies. Guests laughed and chatted behind the french doors in the restaurant beside them. "Welcome to Stark Inn!" The front desk lady greets them, her strawberry blonde hair tied in a bun and a glossy smile on her features.

"You go check-in, I'm staying here," Y/N sighs, plopping down onto one of the floral couches, taking out her phone from her back pocket. Nat and Wanda rolled their eyes, pushing their luggage next to their friend before walking over to check-in.

She checked her phone 5 times, 5 different bell-sounding notifications from 5 different apps. Nothing from her former love, of course, not because he's blocked. The next bell sound didn't come from her phone but the front doors of the inn. The ding was followed by two men laughing loudly, one clapping the other on the back. The Y/H/C girl looks up at the source of the ruckus.

One was blonde, wearing a thin blue flannel shirt and dark jeans. He was cute, had a nice ass, and blue eyes a lady could swim in. The other man was a different story, however. A blush crept up her cheeks as she looked at him. His shoulder-length hair was tied up in a low bun, face nearly hidden by his black velvet cowboy hat. Fuck that man looked good in red flannel.

The said man looked down at her. Oh shit, she'd been caught staring at the two cowboys. Before she could look away the one in red smirked at her and dipped his hat "ma'am," he speaks in greeting, his voice was low and raspy, sending butterflies to her stomach and other regions.

"H-hi," Y/n says shyly, like a schoolgirl whose crush finally talked to her. The man turned away and walked away to walk towards the front desk, mud left behind from their boots which they were quickly scolded for.

"Well while you boys are makin' a mess 'round my inn you can take help these girls up to their room," Pepper, the co-owner huffs "307... the nice one." Pepper waves them off, turning to grab the keys to the room.

Natasha eyed the blonde man up and down, resting her back on the front desk, propping her elbows up behind her. "Hi there cowboy," she speaks to him flirtatiously, her pink lips form a smirk. The man ducks his head and laughs.

"Hi there. I'm Steve."

"Natasha."

Y/N rolled her eyes at the flirting, rising from the couch she went to grab the handle of her bag but was met with cold metal. Her eyes flew up to see the man in the back cowboy hat already grabbed a hold of it "I'm assumin' this is yours?" he chuckled with that honey-like voice. Y/N nods and crossed her arms over her chest, her hand still feeling the chill of his hand.

She followed behind them, taking the red-carpeted stairs. She was behind them enough to stare at the broadness of his shoulders, a small smile appeared on her lips thinking about what it would be like to run her hands down his back. No, she quickly erased the image out of her mind. That thought returned as they climbed the second set of stairs, her Y/E/C traveled down his back and landed on his backside as he climbed. A red rag hung out of his back pocket.

The man turned around as they reached the top, catching her stare at him "I'm Bucky," he tells her, breaking her out of her trance. Bucky was 2 for 2 catching her stare at him. The red in her cheeks matched the vibrant red of the rag her eyes were once fixated on.

"Y/N," she responds simply, her voice quiet.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, miss." His words made her skin tingle, small bumps rising to the surface of her clothed skin. Her green jacket covering all the evidence.

"It's nice to meet you too, Bucky," she ponders over his name for a minute "did your parents name you that?"

Bucky laughed, oh God his laugh was precious "No, uh- my name is actually James. Bucky is just a nickname, I like it better," he explains. Y/N moved from the back to his side as they walked up the final set of stairs.

"Both names are nice," Y/n chuckles, "they suit you." They both looked at each other and instantly smiled, she even unfolded her arms and let them linger at her side. She forgot what it was like to be comfortable after all this time. Walking on eggshells for a man who could set off at any moment was what she grew accustomed to. This was nice, even she had to admit that.

The two girls in front couldn't help but give each other a knowing look, Steve even joined in. "He hasn't dated in years," he whispers to Natasha as they approached the room.

"A shell of a man cheated and dumped her," Wanda tells them in a hushed voice.

They reached the white door with a golden plate '307' written in script numbers. "This is the best room at the inn!" Steve starts to gush, placing the bags on the ground.

"Clear view of the stables, horses walking around all the time," Bucky chimes in, his elbow nudging Y/N the arm. he looked up at him with raised eyebrows but he wasn't looking at her this time. Did he do that on purpose? No. Probably not.

"Well... we'll let you ladies get settled in. Don't hesitate to reach out of you need anything." Steve dipped his hat and started to walk away, clapping his friend on the shoulder, turning him to walk in the same direction.

"See you around, Y/N," Bucky told her before walking away. Her eyes lingered on the tall man as he walked away and even he turned around to catch another glance at her. 3 for 3.

"Did someone catch feelings already?" Natasha laughed as he unlocked the room. Y/N eyebrows furrowed in anger, walking in after her friends, roughly brushing past the sassy redhead.

"All I want is John back. I don't know what the hell that was out there," she defended herself, snarling as she sat in the chair by the large windows, her legs hanging off the ledge.

The women hung their heads and began to unpack "You can have the other bedroom," was all Wanda said before the conversation ended. Y/N felt the guilt rise in her heart. She didn't mean to be so blunt and rude to them, in the back of her mind she knew they knew they were trying. She was trying too.

Time had passed and clothes were hung and folded away in their drawers. Nat sat on her laptop looking for places to eat in town while Wanda checked in with her husband and kids back home. Y/N hadn't left the chair since they arrived. Checking her phone for someone who couldn't talk to her.

"Look at this cute little place in town! It's home cooking they call it. We should go," Nat tells the girl happily.

"I'll call the Uber after I talk to Tommy," Wanda joins in.

"I-I don't want to go," Y/N says, her voice softer than before. She turns his attention to the sables below her, a black horse being led by the man in the black hat. "Bucky," she whispers to herself. She watches him, his lips were moving, obviously talking to the beautiful animal. A smile dared to appear on her face while she watched him, she saw her reflection and she sucked in her lips. Her attention went back to her friends.

"We're not going to let you coop yourself up in this room all night, Y/N." Natasha squints her eyes in judgment, closing her computer with a loud thud.

"And I don't want to make this trip miserable for you guys. I just need to be by myself for a while."

"That's what we're afraid of. It took 2 weeks to get you out of your apartment."

"I'm doing better now!" she shouts, realizing what she did she gulped and sat straight up in the chair, placing her feet on the floor "I'm sorry, Nat. Please just go, have fun and I promise we'll do that spa ay like you wanted tomorrow."

"Fine, but give me your phone," Wanda interjected, holding out her hand while her other one placed her phone in her back pocket. Y/N scrunched her nose and shook her head. Wanda's eyebrows lowered, her hand still stretched out as she walked towards her. She cocked her head, striking fear into the Y/H/C. She hated when Wanda did that.

"How are you going to reach me if something bad happens?"

With the phone now in Wanda's hand, Nat said "We'll call the front desk."

The girls had left, telling Y/N to make her time alone useful. She wanted to sit and wallow in her never-ending sadness. She remembered a time like this at a New York lawyers convention when John left her in the room for hours while he partied downstairs. No, no, she didn't want it to be like this even if it was her choice now.

The stables. She walked over to the window and saw the red building empty from what it looked like. Maybe she could get a glimpse of the horse she saw. Bucky didn't even cross her mind then or was that the reason she wanted to go so badly. No, it had to have been the horse she saw. Keep telling yourself that.

Y/N stayed back a bit longer, giving Nat and Wanda enough time to leave the property. They would never let this go after the stable comment Bucky made. She stepped outside, the sun starting to set and a small chilled breeze brushes past her. Lurking around to make sure no one was there she slowly walked into the stable, the horses not paying her any attention.

There she was, the beautiful black mare standing her her stall, her face poking out of the window. Y/N walked over and let the horse sniff the palm of her hand "You're so pretty, my darling," Y/N beams, rubbing her nose. The horse nickered, making the woman laugh "You like compliments don't you."

"She craves attention!" A voice called out from the other side of the barn. Y/N whipped her head to the side, her heart thumping against her chest. Bucky started making his way over, two silver buckets in his strong arms. The sweat on his face didn't go unnoticed by her, she swallowed hard and took a step back from the horse.

"I-I didn't see a stay-out sign, I'm sorry if I'm not all-" her rambling was cut off by his soft chuckle and the clang of the buckets now on the ground.

" I don't mind, doll. Clementine loves the company." I was hoping you'd show up, he kept that to himself of course. "While you're here, do you want to help me brush her? She gets sad if I don't do it before I leave."

Y/N smiles softly and nods at him, her hands folded in her lap. Bucky eagerly opened the stall and allowed her to enter first. He ran around to empty the feed buckets and placing the buckets on the shelf. He pants as he hands her a brush, his awkward smile earning a thank you.

Bucky stood on one side while she stood on the other, brushing the shiny coat of Celmentines's body. The silence was a comfort and the soft brushing noises were music to their ears. She enjoyed the silence and stolen glances at each other. His steel-blue eyes fixated on his favorite horse, she'd never seen someone look that loving towards someone else.

He breaks the silence "So what brings you guys all the way out to our neck of the woods?"

Was she supposed to be honest? Because 'I'm desperately trying to get over a man who ripped my heart out' doesn't scream approachable. She bit her lip and looked at him from the other side of the horse, their searching eyes meeting.

"Fella did me wrong so my friends decided a getaway was the best medicine," she explained, a watered-down version of what the real devastating truth was.

Bucky nods as he listens to her, slowly making his way to her side, brushing Clementine's hip as a cover. He didn't push it any further, now wasn't the time and he remembered her somber appearance when he first met her in the lobby "Where ya from?" He asks instead

"Brooklyn." His ears perk up, he hadn't thought about that city in so long.

"Brooklyn?" he hums, "how's the city these days?"

"Busy," she responds, looking over at him trying not to act surprised that he moved closer. "You've been?"

"Once or twice." 7 years. He frowned and bit the inside of his cheek. Y/N hums and starts to brush the side of her neck. Clementine whinnies, making the woman jump back. "I-It's ok," Bucky tells her kindly, holding out his hand, "she likes that, let me show you." He takes off his hat and tosses it on top of the hay pile behind them.

His flesh arm placed at on her midback, bringing her closer to the horse. His metal arm covers her hand to guide the brush down Clementine's neck. The sound of her own heart was deafening, he was so close she could pick up everything. The smell of hay and horses mixed in wish musk and was the cedar? It was manly...just like him. The stands of loose hair stuck to his forehead, small grey hairs mixed into his stubble.

Her eyes shifted away from his face onto the sight in front of her, his hand over hers, the gold and black metal shining in the overhead light. She wondered if he could feel her. "Your arm?" she questions barely audibly.

"It was a military accident...I fell," he responded, she couldn't tell if there was sorrow in his voice or he was just accustomed to explaining it all the time.

"It's nice! I hope I didn't offend you," she tried to pull away from the situation she created but his flesh arm held her still. He looks down at her and smiles.

"You didn't. It was a long time ago."

His reassurance got her to relax. They eased into small talk about their lives, she learned that he was born here and always helped the Starks on the ranch when they opened it, leading into a job when he got out of school. He was kind and funny, made her heart constantly skip beats when he said something nice. It made her forget John Walker for a while.

The sun went down, the auto light of the stables turned on. Bucky knew he should've clocked out by now, but this was far better. She was sad, he knew that, but when she relaxed she was surprisingly funny with her quick wit, soft smiles, and her newfound love for his favorite girl Clementine.

"Have you ridden before?" he asks as they finish, taking her brush back.

"No," Y/N laughs as she recalls her childhood, "I saw a boy fall off one at summer camp and I swore I'd never do it. I admire from afar."

Bucky joins in on the laugh while he grabs his hat and dusts off the loose straws of hay on his hat. Y/N bits her lip and pats Clemintine one last time before the pair walked towards the door "Watch your step," he warns, holding his metal hand out for her to take. She looks at him for a moment, feeling like her feet were cement. Her eyes flash from his hand to the softness in his eyes.

"Fucking hell Y/N let's go!" John's hand outreached for her, it was shaking, matching his anger. "I'll fucking leave you here. You know, fuck it. Walk home." That hand turned into a fist... she didn't like that fist.

Hesitantly she takes it, her nervous fingers wrapping around his palm as he guided her over the edge of the stall and onto the main ground of the stable. "Thanks for letting me brush her, it was nice," she smiled, still holding his hand. She wasn't the only one who didn't let go.

"Any time, doll. How long are ya here for?"

"5 days," she responds. Not enough time, he frowned and bit the inside of his cheek.

"Well you can come down any time you'd like, Clem would like the company." I would too.

Y/N finally realized she was holding his hand, her eyes went wide and pulled away suddenly, her nervous chuckle ringing in his ears "I-I should go... thank you again Bucky."

She scurries off towards the inn, their hands still tingling. He'd never been this happy to still have nerves in his arm "God bless Wakanda tech," he praised under his breath, clenching and unclenching the hand.

"Y/N! Wait a minute," he shouts stopping her mid way. She turns and see's him standing there in the overhead light of the stable, like he was waiting for her to get there safely.

"Yeah?" she questions, matching the volume of his voice.

"While you're here you should try Happy's Diner! Best coffee in town!"

"I thought this place did?"

"Don't let Pepper convince you!"

Y/N giggles and nods "I will. Goodnight Buck."

"Goodnight, Y/N!" He watches her leave, making sure she was safely inside, she turned to catch one last glance at him making the brunette smile at her and waving her off.

It would be another hour before Natasha and Wanda returned to the room, finding their friend in the same position in the chair by the window. This time her shoes were dustier than before, black hairs visible on her cream-colored shirt. She stared at the cowboy painting on the wall in front of her like her life depended on it "What did you do all day, Y/N?" Wanda asks, tossing Y/N's phone on the bed.

She expected her to run and grab it, feverishly checking the messages John couldn't send. That reaction never came, she didn't flinch when the phone landed on the bed with a soft thud. Her mind was still a blur, Bucky was kind, he held his hand out for her and got her to the other side of the stall...he waited for her.

"This," Y/N remarks, coming out of her thoughts pointing to the chair she was occupying. The spy in the leather jacket didn't buy it, looking at the differences in her clothing and demeanor.

"Sounds like a bore," Nat sighs, deciding to let it go for a moment.

"How was the restaurant?" Y/N yawns, getting up and walking past them. The two redheads sniffed the air as she passed, it smelled like Y/N had been sleeping in a barn. Well, that was almost true.

"What the hell is that smell?" Wanda grimaced, her nose scrunching at the foul smell. Y/N stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes, she wasn't about to tell them about her time in the stable with Bucky. She brought her shirt up to her nose, fuck, it was her.

"Must be the atmosphere," she laughed it off, "I'm going to bed!" She rushes off before the accusations came and she knew they would come.

The door to the adjoining room slams shut and the girls give each other a knowing look "Twenty bucks says she smuggled Walker in here," Wanda bets.

"Nah, it was the guy with Steve. She blushed way too much to have done nothing about it."

"Fair."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #cowboy!bucky #cowboy!bucky x reader #sebastian stan imagine #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky au

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aswiya · 3 years

Photo

Zeynab Serekaniye, a Kurdish woman with a gap-toothed smile and a warm demeanor, never imagined she’d join a militia.

The 26-year-old grew up in Ras al-Ayn, a town in north-east Syria. The only girl in a family of five, she liked to fight and wear boys’ clothing. But when her brothers got to attend school and she did not, Serekaniye did not challenge the decision. She knew it was the reality for girls in the region. Ras al-Ayn, Arabic for “head of the spring”, was a green and placid place, so Serekaniye settled down to a life of farming vegetables with her mother.

That changed on 9 October 2019, days after former US president Donald Trump announced that US troops would pull out of north-east Syria, where they had allied with Kurdish-led forces for years. A newly empowered Turkey, which sees the stateless Kurds as an existential threat, and whose affiliated groups it has been at war with for decades, immediately launched an offensive on border towns held by Kurdish forces in north-east Syria, including Ras al-Ayn.

Just after 4pm that day, Serekaniye says, the bombs began to fall, followed by the dull plink and thud of mortar fire. By evening, Serekaniye and her family had fled to the desert, where they watched their town go up in smoke. “We didn’t take anything with us,” she says. “We had a small car, so how can we take our stuff and leave the people?” As they fled, she saw dead bodies in the street. She soon learned that an uncle and cousin were among them. Their house would become rubble.

After Serekaniye’s family was forced to resettle farther south, she surprised her mother in late 2020 by saying she wanted to join the Women’s Protection Units (YPJ). The all-female, Kurdish-led militia was established in 2013 not long after their male counterparts, the People’s Protection Units (YPG), ostensibly to defend their territory against numerous groups, which would come to include the Islamic State (Isis). The YPG have also been linked to systematic human rights abuses including the use of child soldiers.

Serekaniye’s mother argued against her decision, because two of her brothers were already risking their lives in the YPG.

But Serekaniye was unmoved. “We’ve been pushed outside of our land, so now we should go and defend our land,” she says. “Before, I was not thinking like this. But now I have a purpose – and a target.”

Serekaniye is one of approximately 1,000 women across Syria to have enlisted in the militia in the past two years. Many joined in anger over Turkey’s incursions, but ended up staying.

“In discussions [growing up], it was always, ‘if something happens, a man will solve it, not a woman’,” says Serekaniye. “Now women can fight and protect her society . This, I like.”

According to the YPG, a surge in recruitment has also been aided by growing pushback against and awareness of entrenched gender inequality and violence over recent years. In 2019 the Kurds’ Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria passed a series of laws to protect women, including banning polygamy, child marriages, forced marriages and so-called “honour” killings, although many of these practices continue. About a third of Asayish officers in the Kurdish security services in the region are now women and 40% female representation is required in the autonomous government. A village of only women, where female residents can live safe from violence, was built, evacuated after nearby bombings, and resettled again.

Yet evidence of the widespread violence that women continue to face is abundant at the local Mala Jin, or “women’s house”, which provide a refuge and also a form of local arbitration for women in need across Syria. Since 2014, 69 of these houses have opened, with staff helping any woman or man who come in with problems they’re facing including issues of domestic violence, sexual harassment and rape, and so-called “honour” crimes, often liaising with local courts and the female units of the Asayish intelligence agency to solve cases.

On a sun-scorched day in May, three distraught women arrive in quick succession at a Mala Jin centre in the north-eastern city of Qamishli. The first woman, who wears a heavy green abaya, tells staff that her husband has barely come home since she’s given birth. The second woman arrives with her husband in tow, demanding a divorce; her long ponytail and hands shake as she describes how he’d once beaten her until she had to get an abortion.

The third woman shuffles in pale-faced and in a loose dress, with rags wrapped around her hands. Her skin is raw pink and black from burns that cover much of her face and body. The woman describes to staff how her husband has beaten her for years and threatened to kill a member of her family if she left him. After he poured paraffin on her one day, she says, she fled his house; he then hired men to kill her brother. After her brother’s murder, she set herself on fire. “I got tired,” she says.

The Mala Jin staff, all women, tut in disapproval as she speaks. They carefully write down the details of her account, tell her they need to take photographs, and explain they plan to send the documents to the court to help secure his arrest. The woman nods then lies down on a couch in exhaustion.

Behia Murad, the director of the Qamishli Mala Jin, an older, kind-eyed woman in a pink hijab, says the Mala Jin centres have handled thousands of cases since they started, and, though both men and women come in with complaints, “always the woman is the victim”.

A growing number of women visit the Mala Jin centres. Staff say that this doesn’t represent increased violence against women in the region, but that more women are demanding equality and justice.

The YPJ is very aware of this shift and its potential as a recruitment tool. “Our aim is not to just have her hold her gun, but to be aware,” says Newroz Ahmed, general commander of the YPJ.

For Serekaniye it was not just that she got to fight, it was also the way of life the YPJ seemed to offer. Instead of working in the fields, or getting married and having children, women who join the YPJ talk about women’s rights while training to use a rocket-propelled grenade. They are discouraged, though not banned, from using phones or dating and instead are told that comradeship with other women is now the focus of their day to day lives.

Commander Ahmed, soft-spoken but with an imposing stare, estimates the female militia’s current size is about 5,000. This is the same size the YPJ was at the height of its battle against Isis in 2014 (though the media have previously reported an inflated number). If the YPJ’s continued strength is any indication, she adds, the Kurdish-led experiment is still blooming.

The number remains high despite the fact that the YPJ has lost hundreds, if not more, of its members in battle and no longer accepts married women (the pressure to both fight and raise a family is too intense, Ahmed says). The YPJ also claim it no longer accepts women under 18 after intense pressure from the UN and human rights groups to stop the use of child soldiers; although many of the women I met had joined below that age, though years ago.

Driving through north-east Syria, it is no wonder that so many women continue to join, given the ubiquitous images of smiling female shahids, or martyrs. Fallen female fighters are commemorated on colourful billboards or with statues standing proudly at roundabouts. Sprawling cemeteries are filled with shahids, lush plants and roses growing from their graves.

The fight against Turkey is one reason to maintain the YPJ, says Ahmed, who spoke from a military base in al-Hasakah, the north-east governorate where US troops returned after Joe Biden was elected. She claims that gender equality is the other. “We continue to see a lot of breaches [of law] and violations against women” in the region, she says. “We still have the battle against the mentality, and this is even harder than the military one.”

Tal Tamr, the YPJ base where Serekaniye is stationed, is a historically Christian and somewhat sleepy town. Bedouins herd sheep through fields, children walk arm-in-arm through village lanes, and slow, gathering dust storms are a regular afternoon occurrence. Yet Kurdish, US and Russian interests are all present here. Sosin Birhat, Serekaniye’s commander, says that before 2019 the YPJ base in Tal Tamr was tiny; now, with more women joining, she describes it as a full regiment.

The base is a one-storey, tan-coloured stucco building once occupied by the Syrian regime. The women grow flowers and vegetables in the rugged land at the back. They do not have a signal for their phones or power to use a fan, even in the sweltering heat, so they pass the time on their days off, away from the frontline, having water fights, chain smoking and drinking sugary coffee and tea.

Yet battle is always on their minds. Viyan Rojava, a more seasoned fighter than Serekaniye, talks of taking back Afrin. In March 2018, Turkey and the Free Syrian Army rebels it backed, launched Operation Olive Branch to capture the north-eastern district beloved for its fields of olive trees.

Since the Turkish occupation of Afrin, tens of thousands of people have been displaced – Rojava’s family among them – and more than 135 women remain missing, according to media reports and human rights groups. “If these people come here, they will do the same to us,” says Rojava, as other female fighters nod in agreement. “We will not accept that, so we will hold our weapons and stand against them.”

Serekaniye listens intently as Rojava speaks. In the five months since she joined the YPJ, Serekaniye has transformed. During military training in January, she broke a leg trying to scale a wall; now, she can easily handle her gun.

As Rojava speaks, the walkie-talkie sitting beside her crackles. The women at the base were being called to the frontline, not far from Ras al-Ayn. There is little active fighting these days, yet they maintain their positions in case of a surprise attack. Serekaniye dons her flak jacket, grabs her Kalashnikov and a belt of bullets. Then she gets into an SUV headed north, and speeds away.

By Elizabeth Flock. Additional reporting by Kamiran Sadoun and Solin Mohamed Amin.

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milkmateartist · 3 years

Text

HEAVENS Black Garden English Translation 【 Main Story Pt. 1】

[ --- I do not own Black Garden, HEAVENS, Utapri, or any of the characters. This is a fan translation using a combination of google translate and my own japanese knowledge --- ]

// Translated by MilkmateArtist

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

▽ = Speaking / Speaker

A deep forest covers the clear sky.

The air here is a little cooler than what's normal for the seasonal temperature.

The surroundings are quiet with only the noise of the trees and my footsteps.

▽ You

Is it really this way?

The continuing trail ahead of me looked more like an animal trail. It would be uncomfortable to even call it a road.

Anxious, I dropped my eyes down to the letter.

A letter that arrived to me even though I had no relatives.

It stated that I had the right to inherit the legacy of a person who claimed to be my paternal grandfather.

I lost my parents early and didn't know my grandfather, let alone his relatives.

Invited by the letter, I was now visiting the land mentioned there.

It was a place rich in nature called the "Heavenly Forest".

Everything I saw was shining.

▽ You

Maybe that is it over there...?

In an open area, there appeared to be a beautifully made road and an iron gate.

The gate is locked.

(A) Give up and go home

(B) Try calling out

(A) Give up and go home

▽ You

There is no sign of anyone around, and there is no way to ask.

I have no choice but to give up ...

I went back the way I came and returned to my usual life.

BAD END

(B) Call out

▽ You

I'm sorry! Is anyone there?

I shouted out loud. Behind the gath, the path led further back, and I could see a bit of the shadow of a house.

Maybe they will notice?. However, there was no reply.

CONTINUE

I picked up a stone that had fallen nearby and swung it down at the key.

▽ You

Eh……?

The stone rolled off the hand without hitting the key.

My head hurt like it was burning, and my vision went red.. I had no choice but to fall into the place without power.

BAD END

CONTINUE:

Next I tried to push the gate.

▽ You

It's no use, but I'll keep trying. I wonder what I should do now.

Suddenly, a loud noise came from a nearby tree.

A person jumped from the top of said tree.

▽ You

!! !!

▽ Hugo

Who are you? What business do you have at the mansion?

I could see that he's well trained from his large body and mannerisms,

▽ Hugo

Hey, answer my question.

▽ You

…… My name is (___). I got a letter and was invited here.

I answered frantically while under the pressure from his force.

▽ Hugo

(___) ?

▽ You

Yes....

He brought his face closer, staring at me with a sharp look.

▽ Hugo

Nope! I haven't heard of you. You're pretty suspicious..

▽ You

Eh?!

▽ Virgil

Hugo, calm down. This person is a client. Moreover, they should be treated politely.

A man came running up from behind and got in between us.

▽ Virgil

I'm sorry, I seem to have surprised you.

With a concerned expression on his face, he bowed his head politely.

▽ Virgil

Hugo's job is to keep an eye on the area around the building since he's the mansions gatekeeper. Don't think too bad of him.

▽ Hugo

……Hmph.. I'm going to go look around. Take it from here.

▽ Virgil

I'm Virgil, the coachman of this building. I was supposed to pick you up, but there seems to have been a bit of a misunderstanding.

▽ Virgil

I apologize for the inconvenience, but you allow me to escort you to the mansion?

He extended his elbows as if he were dealing with a lady.

I was nervous, but followed him..

▽ Virgil

We have a short way to walk until we reach the mansion. Even someone whose familiar with the place can get lost.

▽ You

It's a very large area.

Even after walking for a while, I couldn't see the whole view of the building. I feel that the world they live in is different from my own.

▽ Virgil

Especially at night, it's pitch black, so it's dangerous. It's rumored that *things* come out around then.

▽ You

!! !!

I gasped, involuntarily making a large gesture.

▽ Virgil

Ah, that's a good reaction. You're cute, so I can't help but play around a bit. It's just a rumor!

▽ You

…… Oh, okay.

But it was true that there were dark places, that were black even in the daytime.

It's no wonder that something could lurk inside it.

▽ Virgil

Ah, we arrived!

Passing through the stone gate, there was a large mansion towering over it.

▽ Mika

Oh~ You're here~.

A child popped out from the entrance. He came down the stairs and stopped in front of me.

▽ Mika

I will guide you from here! Now go away Virgil!

When I took my arm from Virgil, he double-took as though he wanted to hug me.

▽ Virgil

Mika is pushy as always. But as many times as I say it, it doesn't matter.

He shrugged and went on, still somehow cheery in his tone.

▽ Virgil

I'll leave the rest to you. I'm going to the stables to check on the horses. I'll see you later.

▽ Mika

By the way, again ... I'm Mika! I'm working here as a messenger boy.

▽ You

Messenger ... Boy?

I tilt my head, puzzled. It's a profession I'm not too familiar with.

▽ Mika

I take letters from my master and deliver them to other peoples residences, and vice versa. Also, I'm so cute, so I'll be asked to accompany people when I go out.

The owner of this building must be a fairly high-ranking person.

▽ Mika

Leave the area to me, let alone this mansion!! I'm very on top of things, so I know everything.

He probably has a lot of opportunities at his job to come into contact with a lot of different thing.

▽ Mika

Indeed, I even know about that letter you have! My master told me that I went out to the town.

▽ Mika

I'll call Abel, so wait a bit here!

That said, Mika disappeared into the front door.

Left behind, I stopped in front of the big door at the front entrance.. Looking closely, I was amazed at the size of it. .

(A) Observe the mansion

(B) Look into the window

(A) Observe the mansion

I walked around the mansion, drawn to the splendor of the building.

▽ You

I've never seen such a nice house. I wonder if this is also in the inheritance of the heritage ...

When I gently touched the wall, the cool sensation seemed to tell me that this was not a dream.

▽ You

Oh, I want to know soon!

I was thrilled by the glorious life that would be waiting for me.

I thought I heard a loud noise, the next moment, a shock ran to my body.

A part of the dilapidated building collapsed and fell heavily on me.

I can't breathe and I can't move one finger. I feel like I heard someone's voice in the distance, but then I couldn't hear it anymore.

BAD END

(B) Look into the window

I turned to the large window above the front door.

▽ You

!! !!

What I saw for a moment through the gap in the curtain was a devil with a terrifying appearance.

An indescribable horror struck me and I fainted.

When I woke up, I was in a small dark room.

There is no way to know how much time has passed. I was paralyzed.

I was just helpless, wrapped in darkness and waiting for the last moment.

BAD END

I did as I was told. While waiting, I heard an energetic voice from the other side of the door.

I don't know what they were talking about, but I recognized Mika's voice.

He was probably explaining my presence.

The door opened and showed his face, smiling.

▽ Mika

He said you can come in!

I nodded and stepped inside.

▽ Abel

You've arrived, (___). . I'm Abel. The person who is entrusted with this mansion.

▽ You

Nice to meet you…….

▽ Abel

The owner of the mansion wants to extend hospitality to you. Please think of this as your home and relax.

▽ You

Thank you. Um ... may I ask you something?

▽ Abel

Oh. I'll answer to any question.

▽ You

The letter said that the owner of the museum was my grandfather, but what was he like?

▽ Abel

Is that so? I'm sorry for this. There is no way he could have written that. He is still alive.

▽ You

Oh is that so ...!

▽ Abel

He is on a trip now and away from the building. He was very concerned about whether you would respond to the letter.

▽ Mika

He was worried that you wouldn't come to see him.. Because you haven't been in contact for a long time.

▽ You

Above all, I am glad that you have done your best for me. I want to meet him in person and talk.

▽ Abel

Its best to relax until the master returns. You can use this building freely.

Feel free to use this large mansion ... What a luxury! Just thinking about it made me excited.

▽ Abel

However ...

▽ Abel

Do not enter only in the garden at night. Absolutely ...

He spoke in a soft voice up to that point, and my spine froze.

▽ Mika

……Oh... Oh yeah, That's right. I'll go call Keith. See you.

Mika looked frightened and ran to the back of the house as though to escape from something.

▽ Abel

It's dark at night and it's dangerous because the beasts come out. Of course, it's not easy to get in.

Before I knew it, things had returned to the original calm atmosphere.

▽ Keith

...... I made you wait.

▽ Abel

You're here. This is (___).

▽ Keith

...... I'm Keith. ……Nice to meet you.

I waited for his next words, but apparently this was the end of his self-introduction. He seemed to be the quiet type.

▽ You

It's nice to meet you.

▽ Abel

Keith is a servant of the master. He is also an escort and is a very reliable man.

I wondered if the sword on his waist was for escort too..?

▽ Abel

Keith, could you please guide them through the mansion? I have office duties from now on.

▽ Keith

……Yeah..

He nodded, extending a hand to me and we started walking.

▽ Keith

…… where to.. ...... Is there a place you're interested in?

(A) Somewhere to relax

(B) Somewhere fun

(A) A place to relax

▽ You

Where does everyone go to relax?

▽ Keith

……this way..

There was an open space beyond the entrance, with a large sofa.

▽ Keith

……the hall. Here ... people often talk ...

The light came in and there was a warm atmosphere. When I tried sitting on the couch I sank in, feeling how high quality it was.

▽ You

I might just wind up telling a long story now

CONTINUE

(B) A place to enjoy

▽ You

What do you enjoy doing during your breaks?

▽ Keith

...... Enjoy, huh? Not much ... entertainment around but...

Thinking about it a bit, he stepped forward. There was a quiet place in the basement.

Opening the door revealed many books. inside.

▽ Keith

Doing research ..., reading aloud ... Besides books, there are also games.

▽ You

Wow! With all of this there will never be enough time

CONTINUE

▽ You

Since this is such a huge mansion, is there a secret place? It's like a room that doesn't open.

Without thinking I curiously asked. Keith's eyes glistened.

▽ Keith

There is…….

▽ You

……!

▽ Keith

...... no such room.

▽ You

Ah, I- I figured....

I then saw at the end of the corridor that there was dim passage.

As I approached, I saw a staircase leading upwards. It was dark, and I couldn't see how long it was.

Strangely anxious, I stepped up the stairs as though they were sucking me in.

▽ You

Ah-…….

I couldn't understand what was happening.. A red stain was spreading at the soles of my feet.

▽ You

W..Why…….

Those were my last words.

BAD END

CONTINUE:

I was guided through the hall. There were various rooms, all of which were luxuriously constructed.

▽ Keith

There are still more rooms ... But I must not.. tire you out.

▽ You

Is there still more! ?? From the looks of things I think I can go on..

▽ Keith

You don't have to rush ... There is a lot of time ...

He smiled as he looked at me with my eyes rounded. Seeing that smile made me happy we were getting more acquainted.

▽ You

Hey, that sword is pretty neat. Is it for self-defense?

What I had been worried about for a long time just kind of spilled out of my mouth.

▽ Keith

This ...?

He touched the sword that hung from his waist.

▽ You

Yeah, I'm asking about what it's used for....

I swallowed words on their way out. Acutely my body froze up and I couldn't move.

Keith's eyes became sharp and sparkled with a suspicious light.

▽ Keith

………….

I thought he was going to silently take out the sword from the sheath, but in an instant he thrust it at me.

▽ Keith

It's a cursed sword that seeks the blood of a young maiden. ...... Should I try it out?

He had a cold expression holding no emotion.

▽ You

Eek ...!

▽ Keith

……just kidding.

With that said, he rotated the handle of his heavy sword and put it back in its sheath.

▽ You

Ha, haha.... That was something.

The tension released at once, and I sighed loudly.

▽ Keith

I'm sorry ... I seem to have surprised you.

Seeing his clumsy smile, I understood this was his odd way of interacting with me.

▽ Eric

Hey, Keith. Can you taste the food for me? I think I did a good job!

A young man ran up with a smile.

▽ Eric

You are...! Could it be...

He corrected his posture, astonished when he noticed me.

▽ You

I'm ( ___ ), . The person who came here after receiving a letter.

▽ Eric

( ___ ), It's a nice name. I'm Eric. Nice to meet you.

A bit shy, his cheeks went pink and he bashfully looked down.

▽ Eric

About that, ... I was cooking for you. I hope you like it.

▽ You

Thank you!

▽ Eric

Ah, it's not a big deal at all. I was a little unsure because I made a special menu that I haven't all that often.

▽ Keith

Do not worry. Eric's food is ... always delicious.

▽ Eric

Is that so? I'm happy you say that. That's not all, I'm also in charge of cooking.

▽ Eric

Have you met everyone else yet?

▽ Keith

They have not met Simon....

▽ Eric

Simon should be in the garden at this time.

▽ Keith

Eric ... It would be good if you took them ... I will continue the cooking.

▽ Eric

Really ? I still have a lot of supper preparations left.

▽ Keith

It's fine……. You're able to convey the charm of the garden better as a gardener.

▽ Eric

All right. Thank you, Keith. Well then, let's go.

▽ Eric

It's better to go to the garden from outside the building. We will use the back road, it's a detour from where we are now.

Leaving the mansion, we walked side by side on the road leading to the garden.

▽ Eric

The roses are in full bloom this time of year, so I really recommend seeing them!

He spoke with an excited gesture. . I could tell he loved the garden from the bottom of his heart.

▽ Eric

It's breathtakingly beautiful. I see them everyday but I find myself visiting. I often have tea with my friends there.

▽ You

Friends……. What kind of relationship do you have with everyone? It's nice being close.

▽ Eric

I'm a colleague, but it's like we're a family. I've lived here together since forever and we're always by one anothers side.

I was very envious of that kind of family relationship since I had no relatives.

▽ Eric

Oh, Abel ... He's my real brother. So he's actually family.

Now that I think of it, it seems their hair and eye colors are similar. But their personality and energy are completely different.

▽ Eric

We'll arrive in the garden soon.

▽ You

Um……. I heard that you shouldn't enter the garden at night. Why is that?

I tossed out the words I've been contemplating for a while after asking Abel.

▽ Eric

...... Who, did you hear from?

Eric stopped.

▽ Eric

Who ...? Hey ...?

I was grabbed by my shoulder and interrogated. The energy he was giving off made it feel like he was a different person.

▽ You

…… M-, Mr. Abel.

▽ Eric

What my brother says is absolute. Don't go against it ... absolutely.

With a serious look, I nodded deeply.

▽ Eric

Haha. I thought you would understand. Well, we arrived.

After passing through the aisle, there was a grand "paradise".

The calm garden, full of flowers, praised the beauty of the world.

▽ You

Beautiful ...

▽ Eric

Right? I'm glad you liked it. But I can't find Simon.

I looked around, but there was no sign of anyone.

▽ Eric

He should be taking a nap somewhere in the garden, so let's split up and find search.

▽ You

Okay!

We split up and started looking for Simon.

(A) Search behind the tall hedge

(B) Search in the flower field

(A) Search Behind the tall Hedge

▽ You

Is it behind this hedge ...?

It was a good hiding spot since it was as tall as a person and provided good shade for a nap.

I looked behind, but no one was there.

CONTINUE

(B) Search in the Flower Field

▽ You

He must be in a flower field.

It felt like If I slept surrounded by these beautiful flowers, I'd have a good dream.

Pushing my way through the flowers, only butterflies took off and there was no harvest.

CONTINUE

▽ You

Maybe he's further out.

The back of the vast garden was adjacent to the forest. Maybe there was a good place to take a nap in the woods, like under the shade of a tree.

I went deeper and deeper in.

( -----JUMP TO SIMONS ROUTE------)

CONTINUE:

▽ You

Where are you ...

Distracted by the surroundings, I tripped in the grass.

▽ You

Kya!

Falling forward, I landed in a bush.

▽ You

This is…….

There was a small space in the bush that allowed me to get up, and in that place there also was a young man with transparent white skin.

▽ You

Are you Simon ...?

▽ Simon

Who are you ...? Why are you here ...

He curled up as if frightened, and bore the color of hostility in his eyes.

▽ You

I'm ( ___ ), I'm sorry to have surprised you.

▽ Simon

( ___ ) ……. The Lord's relative?

Most likely being explained to in advance, Simon looked relieved.

▽ You

This is a warm and comfortable place huh. It's very relaxing.

▽ Simon

Oh……. Do you understand too? A feeling of being gently wrapped in nature .... It seems to awaken a memory of before being born.

His expression was ecstatic and his eyes were shining. I could tell that he had a pure and straight heart.

▽ Simon

Oh ... what a wonderful day. I will once again enjoy the splendor while feeling the vibrations of the earth ....

Then he gently closed his eyelids.

▽ Simon

Zzzz …….

▽ You

Simon, don't sleep!

I grabbed his shoulders and shook him but it didn't help much.

▽ You

Eric was looking for you..

▽ Simon

...... Eric was ...?

▽ Eric

I found you! So you were here huh.

Eric looked into the bushes.

Suddenly, the low roar of thunder sounds.

A black rain cloud cast a shadow over the clear blue sky.

▽ Eric

The weather is going to change, so let's go back to the mansion.

We quickly left the garden.

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

Go to Black Garden English Translation Directory here for more routes.

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83 notes · View notes

bananaofswifts · 4 years

Link

Taylor Swift appears to be waging war over the serial resale of her old master recordings on two fronts. She recently confirmed that she is already underway in the process of re-recording the six albums she made for the Big Machine label, in order to steer her fans (and sync licensing execs) toward the coming alternate versions she’ll control. But now that she’s followed the surprise release of “Folklore” with the very, very surprise release of “Evermore” less than five months later, the thought may occur: If she keeps up this pace, she may have more new albums out on the Republic label than she ever did on Big Machine in a quarter of the time. Flooding the zone to further crowd out the oldies is unlikely to be Swift’s real motivation for giving the world a full-blown “Folklore” sequel this instantaneously: As motivations for prolific activity go, relieving and sublimating quarantine pressure is probably even better than revenge. Anyway, this is not a gift horse to be looked in the mouth. “Evermore,” like its mid-pandemic predecessor, feels like something that’s been labored over — in the best possible way — for years, not something that was written and recorded beginning in August, with the bow said to be put on it only about a week ago. Albums don’t get graded on a curve for how hastily they came together, or shouldn’t be, but this one doesn’t need the handicap. It’d be a jewel even if it’d been in progress forevermore and a day.The closest analog for the relation the new album bears to its predecessor might be one that’d seem ancient to much of Swift’s audience: U2 following “Achtung Baby” with “Zooropa” while still touring behind the previous album. It’s hard to remember now that a whole year and a half separated those two related projects; In that very different era, it seemed like a ridiculously fast follow-up. But the real comparison lies in how U2, having been rewarded for making a pretty gutsy change of pace with “Achtung,” seemed to say: You’re okay with a little experimentation? Let’s see how you like it when we really boil things down to our least commercial impulses, then — while we’ve still got you in the mood.Swift isn’t going avant-garde with “Evermore.” If anything, she’s just stripping things down to even more of an acoustic core, so that the new album often sounds like the folk record that the title of the previous one promised — albeit with nearly subliminal layers of Mellotrons, flutes, French horns and cellos that are so well embedded beneath the profuse finger-picking, you probably won’t notice them till you scour the credits. But it’s taking the risk of “Folklore” one step further by not even offering such an obvious banger (irony intended) as “Cardigan.” Aaron Dessner of the National produced or co-produced about two-thirds of the last record, but he’s on 14 out of 15 tracks here (Jack Antonoff gets the remaining spot), and so the new album is even more all of a piece with his arpeggiated chamber-pop impulses, Warmth amid iciness is a recurring lyrical motif here, and kind of a musical one, too, as Swift’s still increasingly agile vocal acting breathes heat into arrangements that might otherwise seem pretty controlled. At one point Swift sings, “Hey, December, I’m feeling unmoored,” like a woman who might even know she’s going to put her album out a couple of weeks before Christmas. It’s a wintry record — suitable for double-cardigan wearing! — and if you’re among the 99% who have been feeling unmoored, too, then perhaps you are Ready For It. Swift said in announcing the album that she was moving further into fiction songwriting after finding out it was a good fit on much of “Folklore,” a probably inevitable move for someone who’s turning 31 in a few days and appears to have a fairly settled personal life. Which is not to say that there aren’t scores to settle, and a few intriguing tracks whose real-life associations will be speculated upon. But just as the “Betty”/”August” love triangle of mid-year established that modern pop’s most celebrated confessional writer can just make shit up, too, so, here, do we get the narrator of “Dorothea,” a honey in Tupelo who is telling a childhood friend who moved away and became famous that she’s always welcome back in her hometown. (Swift may be doing a bit of empathic wondering in a couple of tracks here how it feels to be at the other end of the telescope.) One time the album takes a turn away from rumination into a pure spirit of fun — while getting dark anyway — is “No Body, No Crime,” a spirited double-murder ballad that may have more than a little inspiration in “Goodbye, Earl.” Since Swift already used the Dixie Chicks for background vocals two albums ago, for this one she brings in two of the sisters from Haim, Danielle and Este, and even uses the latter’s name for one of the characters. Yes, the rock band Haim’s featured appearance is on the only really country-sounding song on the record… there’s one you didn’t see coming, in the 16 hours you had to wonder about it. Yet there are also a handful of songs that clearly represent a Swiftian state of mind. At least, it’s easy to suppose that the love songs that opens the album, “Willow,” is a cousin to the previous record’s “Invisible String” and “Peace,” even if it doesn’t offer quite as many clearly corroborating details about her current relationship as those did. On the sadder side, Swift is apparently determined to run through her entire family tree for heartrending material. On “Lover,” she sang for her stricken mother; on “Folklore,” for her grandfather in wartime. In that tradition the new album offers “Marjorie,” about the beloved grandmother she lost in 2003, when she was 13. (The lyric videos that are being offered online mostly offer static visual loops, but the one for “Marjorie” is an exception, reviving a wealth of stills and home-movie footage of Grandma, who was quite a looker in a miniskirt in her day.) Rue is not something Swift is afraid of here anymore than anywhere else, as she sings, “I should’ve asked you questions / I should’ve asked you how to be / Asked you to write it down for me / Should’ve kept every grocery store receipt / ‘Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me,” lines that will leave a dry eye only in houses that have never known death. The piece de resistance in its poignance is Swift actually resurrecting faint audio clips of Marjorie, who was an opera singer back in the day. It’s almost like ELO’s “Rockaria,” played for weeping instead of a laugh. Swift has not given up, thank God, on the medium that brought her to the dance — the breakup song — but most of them here have more to do with dimming memories and the search for forgiveness, however slowly and incompletely achieved, than feist. But doesn’t Swift know that we like her when she’s angry? She does, and so she delves deep into something like venom just once, but it’s a good one. The ire in “Closure,” a pulsating song about an unwelcome “we can still be friends, right?” letter from an ex, seems so fresh and close to the surface that it would be reasonable to speculate that it is not about a romantic relationship at all, but a professional one she has no intention of ever recalling in a sweet light. Or maybe she does harbor that a disdain for an actual former love with that machinelike a level of intensity. What “Evermore” is full of is narratives that, like the music that accompanies them, really come into focus on second or third listen, usually because of a detail or two that turns her sometimes impressionistic modes completely vivid. “Champagne Problems” is a superb example of her abilities as a storyteller who doesn’t always tell all: She’s playing the role of a woman who quickly ruins a relationship by balking at a marriage proposal the guy had assumed was an easy enough yes that he’d tipped off his nearby family. “Sometimes you just don’t know the answer ‘ Til someone’s on their knees and asks you / ‘She would’ve made such a lovely bride / What a shame she’s fucked in the head’ / They said / But you’ll find the real thing instead / She’ll patch up your tapestry that I shred.” (Swift has doubled the F-bomb quotient this time around, among other expletives, for anyone who may be wondering whether there’s rough wordplay amid Dessner’s delicacy — that would an effing yes.) “‘Tis the Damn Season,” representing a gentler expletive, gives us a character who is willing to settle, or at least share a Christmas-time bed with an ex back in the hometown, till something better comes along. The pleasures here are shared, though not many more fellow artists have broken into her quarantine bubble this time around. Besides Haim’s cameo, Marcus Mumford offers a lovely harmony vocal on “Cowboy Like Me,” which might count as the other country song on the album, and even throws in something Swift never much favored in her Nashville days, a bit of lap steel. Its tale of male and female grifters meeting and maybe — maybe — falling in love is really more determinedly Western than C&W, per se, though. The National itself, as a group, finally gets featured billing on “Coney Island,” with Matt Berninger taking a duet vocal on a track that recalls the previous album’s celebrated Bon Iver collaboration “Exile,” with ex-lovers taking quiet turns deciding who was to blame. (Swift saves the rare laugh line for herself: “We were like the mall before the internet / It was the one place to be.) Don’t worry, legions of new Bon Iver fans: Dessner has not kicked Justin Vernon out of his inner circle just to make room for Berninger. The Bon Iver frontman whose appearance on “Folklore” came as a bit of a shock to some of his fan base actually makes several appearances on this album, and the one that gets him elevated to featured status again, as a duet, the closing “Evermore,” is different from “Exile” in two key ways. Vernon gets to sing in his high register… and he gets the girl. As it turned out, the year 2020 did not involve any such waiting for Swift fans; it’s an embarrassment of stunning albums-ending-in-“ore” that she’s mined out of a locked-down muse.

#taylor swift #evermore #review

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bedbellyandbeyond · 3 years

Photo

He’s Back

(Story Post)

Kent didn't seem to know what to do with the crying werewolf on his front, but he patted his back until he settled down. Nathan eventually pulled away and wiped his eyes. “I'm sorry… I don't know what came over me…” Dax decided to come out and make his entrance. “I thought you said you were going to punch him.” Kent’s entire demeanor changed and he was immediately on guard again, dipping to scoop up his rifle. “Who the fuck's that?” Nathan stepped back and held a hand out to his partner. “This is Dax.” “And who the fuck is Dax?” Kent said gruffly. “I'm his boyfriend,” Dax said, walking over and taking Nathan's hand. Kent huffed. “You really are one of those type, huh, Nate?”

“Nate?” Dax inquired. “He calls me that to antagonise me,” Nathan sighed. “I've told him a hundred times it's just Nathan. And put your damn rifle down, Kent.” Kent backed up to the porch to put his rifle down on the balcony. Then he just stood there and crossed his arms. “…So, did you have the kids?” Nathan crossed his arms too. “What if I did?” “Don't play games, dog breath. If I have children, I oughta know about it.” Nathan placed his hands on his hips. “I had my kids, yes.” “Where are they?” Kent demanded. “They're back home being babysat,” Nathan answered. Kent growled. “You came all the way out here and didn't even bring my fuckin’ kids?” “Well, I had Dawson’s kids, but he's dead,” Nathan said shrugging. “You damn mutt… You really want to go that way? You really want to say you had Dawson Grace's kids, the name that went down as the man executed for murdering four people?” Kent asked. “They're my fucking kids. I have a right to see them.” “Why the fuck should I bring them to you?” Nathan asked. “You literally don't exist to them. They're fine without you.” “So what, you've got this limp dick raisin’ my kids?” Kent growled, shoving a finger towards Dax. Dax pushed out a hip. “Nathan was right. You really are an asshole.” “Dax is there for me,” Nathan said. “He actually gives a shit. You've done nothing for me or my kids.” “Yeah, as if I had a fuckin' choice!” Kent scrunched his nose. “Don't you think I would've wanted to be there?” “You didn't even want me to have them!” Nathan said. “Yeah, when I was convinced I was gonna fry!” Kent said. “I didn't want to leave kids on this Earth with a fucked up legacy like mine!” “If you want to see my kids, you'll have to earn it!” Nathan stated. “You'll have to help me.” “Like shit. I don't have to do shit for you,” Kent stated. “Look at what you did to my fucking face.” He jabbed a finger at his own long scar. Nathan shook his head. “You'd be dead if it weren't for me.” “How the fuck do you reckon that?” Kent growled. “I told you APID could help you,” Nathan stated. “I told you my case workers would do something about your case, so long as you were really innocent. And they got this for you.” He motioned to the cottage. “Much better than that hell hole of a cave you had in the ravine.” “I liked my cabin,” Kent said stubbornly. “And if you hadn't come along, I would've still been there, alone, without the black suits bothering me all the time.” “But you'd still be a wanted man,” Nathan stated. “You'd get caught eventually and then the cover up wouldn't be a cover up. You'd be dead. But you're a free man now. They gave you a whole new life.” Kent grit his teeth. “I never asked for it. I was survivin’ on my own.” “Surviving's not necessarily living though,” Dax commented. “No one asked you, Dix,” Kent snapped. “It's Dax...” “Don't fuckin' care.” Nathan crossed his arms. “If you're going to keep being an asshole, we'll just leave and you'll never see your kids.” “I don't even know they really exist,” Kent said. “You could just be lyin’ to me.” “...Are you fucking kidding me?” Nathan grabbed Kent's shirt. “I wouldn't lie about the pain and labour I had to go through to bring those kids into this world. Is this a fucking lie?” He lifted his shirt, exposing his stretch marks and C-section scar. “Is this a fucking lie to you, Kent?” Kent paused and placed his hand on Nathan's stomach, feeling the scars that webbed across his skin. “You really were fuckin’ pregnant, huh? Man like you...” “Don't touch me!” Nathan pushed Kent's hand away and lowered his shirt. “I came here hoping you would help me. Do you think you could do that?” “Remains to be seen,” Kent said. “Do you at least have pictures of my kids?” “Yes, of course,” Nathan said. Kent sighed. “What do you need help with?” Nathan took a deep breath. “My transformation's started triggering during the day time, regardless of my wolf cycle,” he explained. “I become more of a half wolf, half man than the usual full wolf.” Kent nodded. “Ah.” “Does that ever happen to you?” Nathan asked. “What, this?” Kent immediately transformed, his height growing another foot, fur exploding out of his skin to cover him, bear ears and a big bear snout sprouting right out. The sheer added girth of him shredded his T-shirt and pushed Nathan back a step into Dax. They watched in shock and awe. Kent raised his head and let out a big bellowing bear call, making birds scatter from the trees. Then as fast as he'd turned bear, he was back to human, still a big bastard, but all trace of bear gone. “...You can control it?” Nathan asked once he found his thoughts. “Damn straight. If you're turning midday, it means you've got some control too,” Kent said. “Reckon you haven't figured it out yet.” “No, I haven't,” Nathan said. “Can you teach me to control it?” “Can you bring my damn kids?” Kent asked. Nathan nodded. “Next weekend.” Kent sighed. He eyed the APID agent still standing at the van, now lighting a cigarette. “Tell the black suit to fuck off and then come inside the house.” He waited at the door with Nathan, and Dax told their escort they’d be good on their own for now. Hanover got their overnight stuff out of the back before driving off. Kent held the front door of his cottage open for Nathan but promptly closed it in Dax's face. Nathan opened the door up again to let Dax in. On the inside, the cottage was surprisingly clean and spacious, open to a kitchen and living room, two rooms off the living room and a ladder up to a loft above. “Part of the deal is you stop acting like an asshole to Dax,” Nathan stated. “It's alright, Nathan,” Dax said. “He's just being the possessive ex.” “Ex?” Kent growled. “Are you fucked in the head? I'm not gay.” “The closet is deep with this one,” Dax remarked. “Let me guess, your parents told you God would send you to hell for liking boys.” “I don't believe in no fuckin' God,” Kent stated. “Where in the Bible did the bastard say ‘Thou shalt turn into a fuckin' bear and be hunted like a damn animal’? What fuckin' passage?” “The book of Daniel has some stuff...” Nathan muttered as he started looking around and picking stuff up. Dax blinked, turning to his boyfriend. “I didn't strike you as religious, Nathan.” “I'm not,” Nathan said as he fiddled with a little whittled wood fox. “Well, not really... I was the one whose parents told me I'd go to hell for being gay. They shoved religion in my face all the time.” “You never talked about this,” Dax said. “I don't like to talk about it,” Nathan said placing the fox down and picking up an owl figure. “It really changed my relationship with religion.” “Bunch of nonsense,” Kent stated. “Bible people really rub me the wrong way...” “So if it's not religious, why are you so scared to acknowledge your latent homosexuality?” Dax asked, taking a look at the wood fox as well. “There ain't nothin’ to acknowledge,” Kent said, taking the carving out of Dax's hands and putting it back on a shelf. “You can keep on as you are, I ain't gonna stop you. It just ain't natural, that's all. And it ain't me.” “We're not here to get hate-crimed, Dax. Show him your pictures,” Nathan sighed, placing the owl down again. “You take more than I do.” “Right, yes. One moment.” Dax pulled out his phone. “I made an album.” “Album?” Kent frowned and narrowed his eyes. “On your phone?” “Yeah, I don't think most people bother making them, but I like organising my memories,” Dax said before turning his phone towards Kent. The bear man took up the phone and squinted at it. He looked at the image that showed Nathan in the hospital with the twins bundled up in his arms. Their faces however were obscured in the photo by angle and all the swaddling. “Do you have a better one? I can't see them in this...” Kent huffed. “Yeah, just swipe through. There's a bunch,” Dax said. “Swipe?” Kent asked. Nathan nudged Dax's arm. “He lived under a literal rock for the last twenty years. He doesn't understand smartphones.” “Ohhh...” “Shut up, I have one of your damn smartphones the black suits gave me,” Kent said. “But do you know how to use it?” Nathan asked. Kent wrinkled his nose. “Just show me how to see the damn photos.” “You're going to have to learn to use it if you want contact,” Nathan said as Dax went to stand beside Kent and showed him how to swipe through the album. Once he got the hang of it, Kent started swiping on his own. Dax had taken what seemed to be hundreds of photos and they went up in chronological order from the day of the twins' birth all the way to a photo of Korsgaard holding them at his house just before the couple left. Kent didn't get that far, however. He was silent as he continued to look at each photo one by one. He would often pause at any photo that had both kids in it clearly and he would quickly skip over any picture with Dax in them. He was eventually transfixed on a photo of both kids holding hands while asleep on Nathan's chest. “Oh, that's a good one,” Dax commented. “They both fell into a food coma. Nathan, as a cis man, doesn't produce a lot of milk, so it's very rare that they’re fully satisfied once he's dry.” “Wait, what photo is that?” Nathan snatched up the phone. “Ugh, you had to pick one with my fucking tits out, what the fuck...” “What are their names?” Kent asked. Nathan sighed and picked a different picture before pointing to each child respectively. “Grace and Gabriel.” Kent blinked. “Grace Grace?” “Grace Cassidy, you selfish bastard,” Nathan said. “You really think I'd give them your surname?” “Kids get the father's surname. It's how it works,” Kent said. “Yeah, guess what? I'm their father,” Nathan stated. “What do you mean? You're the mother. You gave birth to them,” Kent said. “I... I literally don't have the patience right now to explain how wrong and insulting that is,” Nathan stated. “Not to mention, ‘Dawson Grace’ is dead, remember?” “So, Grace and Gabriel Rivera,” Kent stated. “I'm not changing my kids' names to their deadbeat dad's,” Nathan asserted. “Especially not a made up one.” “It was my mother's maiden name,” Kent growled. “Oh. Still.” Nathan shrugged and handed Dax back his phone. “Her name is Grace after my grandmother who raised me, not you.” “And Gabriel?” Kent asked. “I just like it,” Nathan said. “I might have trouble with religion, but I like biblical names.” Kent rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Nate.” “Stop.” Nathan balled his fist. “You saw the pictures. You better help me.” Kent turned away and went to the kitchen. “Tomorrow. It's gettin’ late.” “What? But wouldn't night time be better for the wolf and all that moon stuff?” Dax asked. “Yeah, if you want to go berserk and rip an arm off,” Kent said. “Best time to practice is when the wolf is the weakest. High noon, middle of your off weeks. Do you know where you are in the moon phases?” “Yeah, I keep track on my phone,” Nathan said. “You can do that?” Kent asked. “Yeah, there's an app for everything,” Nathan said. “App?” Kent asked. “Application,” Dax said. “Did you have a computer before going on the lam?” “No, not really.” “We're really at square one then, huh?” Dax sighed. “Well, I suppose we should call the agent to take us to our hotel.” “You're staying here,” Kent said. “There's a bed in the loft.” “No thanks, I like running water,” Nathan said. “I'm not asking,” Kent said. “If those damn black suits take another step on my property, I'll start shootin’.” “Incredibly illegal,” Nathan said. “Quick way to get your hunting license revoked. Not to mention, why do you need a hunting rifle? You're a literal bear.” “Hunting as the bear's real messy,” Kent said. “Not to mention, I don't want to be hunted. I got a few scars from that...” “Fair enough. Still not sleeping here,” Nathan said. “I have plumbing and power,” Kent stated. “I'm not used to using it much but it's there.” “But running water, though?” Dax asked. Kent turned on the kitchen tap and it ran clear. “Spring water.” “...Why do you want us to stay here so bad?” Nathan asked. “It's not like that. I just don't need you wasting my time getting back here tomorrow,” Kent stated. Nathan nudged Dax. “What do you think?” “I think he's lonely,” Dax muttered. Kent growled. “What?” “Can we see the loft?” Nathan asked. “Be my fuckin' guest.” Kent motioned to the ladder. “There's a mattress. Place was furnished when I got here.” “You're actually thinking about this?” Dax asked as Nathan started to climb the ladder. “Let's just see if it'll work for tonight,” Nathan said as he got up to the top. The mattress up in the loft looked to be of good quality, with fitted sheets, pillows and even a duvet folded up in the corner. “This is actually kind of nice...” Dax frowned and climbed up after him. “...We already booked the hotel.” “Call and see if we can cancel,” Nathan said. “Maybe it's just a fee.” Dax sighed and leaned over the railing of the loft. “Is there a good foot path around here?” “‘Round the lake,” Kent said. “Why?” “If I can get a good run in tomorrow morning, maybe it'll be worth it...” Dax sat on the bed and crossed his legs. The loft roof was so low there that his head brushed the ceiling. “What's for dinner?” Kent shrugged. “Venison.” “Oh dear...” “Correct.” Nathan sighed. “Dax's vegetarian.” “Then he can eat a tree,” Kent growled. “Come on, you had a garden back in the valley. You must have some greens,” Nathan said. Kent huffed and put his hands on his hips. “It's as cold as a witch's tit for too long up here. I'm working on it, but my garden's not even close to harvesting time.” Dax collapsed onto the futon. “And I suppose Uber Eats is out of the question?” “Uber what?” “I'm going to starve.” Kent checked his fridge. “Relax, you limp dick tree muncher. I went into town a couple days ago... I think I have some bread and butter... Oh, there's a jar of pickles and some mustard.” “...Can you do something with that, Dax?” Nathan asked. “There's plenty of berries I picked too,” Kent said. “I blend my own jams.” Dax sighed. “I can probably work something out... Maybe I can make a smoothie tomorrow for breakfast...” Nathan rubbed his shoulder. “When we have some time tomorrow, we'll get some food in town. For now, we can work with what's here.” “Easy for you to say. You can eat venison.” Kent, tall as he was, smacked the wood at the end of the loft floor. “Absolutely no fuckin' up there, got it?” “With your ugly mug around?” Nathan huffed. “Wouldn't dream of it.” “Hey, you're the one who busted it up in the first place,” Kent said. “I added character, but I’m not the one who added that nasty mullet,” Nathan said. “Fuck off... I’m going out for firewood.” Kent huffed and just walked off muttering ‘stupid dog’ under his breath as he put his hand through his hair. Dax sat up and watched until Kent went outside and the door closed behind him. Dax then put his hand on Nathan's shoulder. “He's really into you, huh?” “What?” Nathan shook his head. “He fucking hates me.” “No, he really doesn't. This whole interaction he's been trying to separate us. You didn't even see how he looked at photos of you with the kids. I bet you if I taught him how to delete photos, he would've removed any of them with me in it.” Nathan frowned. “You have nothing to worry about. He's not going to come out if that's true and I'm with you. I chose you.” “I know that. I'm not threatened, I'm just, well you know, I'm nosier than I am tall,” Dax chuckled. “He’s kept his eyes on you from the very second he spotted you until the moment he went out that door. If he ever made eye contact with me, it was only a passing glare. He's almost like another Wano, to be quite honest. I'm half waiting for him to declare a dual for your hand...” Nathan chuckled. “I don't think you have to worry about that. You're good.” “I mean, if you think about it,” Dax said lying back in the bed. “I almost feel sorry for him. The last time you met, you were single. He's been alone out here for months probably thinking about you and the kids. Must've been a slap to the face when I showed up.” Nathan patted Dax's leg. “If you're so obsessed with him, you can date him.” Dax smiled. “I won't lie. He's a lot more handsome than I expected from your descriptions. Not to mention, when he transformed right in front of you, tearing his shirt off, and then when shrunk down he was just shirtless and ripped... Come on.” “I’ll give you that. It was kinda hot...” Nathan admitted. “And pretty gay.” “Right? How old is he, anyway?” “Not sure.” Nathan thought about it. “He must've been in his twenties back when he was accused and it's been twenty years.” “So, his forties. You like your men older, don't you Nate?” Dax teased. Nathan frowned and lightly punched Dax's leg. “Shut up. Reid said the same damn thing... It's not true.” “How old was Hugh?” Dax asked. “You said he had grey hair.” “Shut up!”

#lore #Kent #Nathan #Dax #werewolf #werebear #thunderbird

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onecanonlife · 4 years

Text

careful son (you got dreamer's plans)

Wilbur was dead. Now, he is not. He can't say that he's particularly happy about it.

Unfortunately, the server is still as tumultuous as ever, even with Dream locked away, so it seems that his involvement in things isn't a matter of if, but when.

(Alternatively: the prodigal son returns, and a broken family finally begins to heal. If, that is, the egg doesn't get them all killed first.)

Chapter Word Count: 2,169

Chapter Content Warnings: swearing, c!Wilbur’s current mental state

Chapter Summary: In which Wilbur is resurrected, finds himself alone in a forest, and very much objects to this whole concept.

(masterlist w/ ao3 links)

(next chapter)

Chapter One: soldier, keep on

Wilbur gasps back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes.

It is an ugly thing, reviving like this. His body does not remember what it is to live. The sensations are overwhelming: the ground beneath him, cold and wet, the freezing air against his skin, the force of gravity that keeps him pinned down. It takes a moment for him to recall how to breathe, to even recall that he needs to do so at all, after that first instinctive inhalation. His lungs are burning, and fear washes over him, builds within him—but the memory comes. His lungs inflate. Deflate. Too quickly, at first, too shallowly, but he falls into a rhythm soon enough.

Breathing. He is breathing. He is alive. His fingers curl into the grass, the slick dirt, and he shudders at the feeling. He thinks he might shake apart right here, right now, shake apart and back to death again.

He doesn’t want to be here.

His mind is fuzzy, whirling, confused, and his thoughts are so much scattered snow, but this much he knows. He does not want to be alive, does not want to be here, does not want this—

But since when has he had a choice in the matter?

Sitting up is slow. Strange. It takes more effort than it should, and it sets his head to spinning as he blinks the water from his eyes. His vision clears enough to see where he is: a forest, not too dense, the trees sparsely placed. He is sitting beneath one, and as if to reward the realization, the leaves jerk in a sudden wind, dumping several large drops of water on his head. He frowns up at them, and at the grey sky beyond. And then has to look down again—there is more rain in his eyes, and the sting of it is unpleasant, too sharp. Every sensation feels like too much, too present and too raw and too close.

He should stand, he thinks. But he stares at his legs, and wonders if they will hold his weight. They don’t look as if they will. They are shaking. His whole body is shaking, shaking apart and back to—

(you could only be so lucky)

He stands. He lurches to the side, at first, has to grip the tree for balance as his legs adjust to holding him up. His head pounds, spins, and he squeezes his eyes shut against the wave of vertigo.

And then opens them.

The laughter comes unbidden, welling up from somewhere dark, somewhere despairing. It echoes in his ears until it’s all that he can hear, all that he knows, curling around him, manic and wild. It is a villain’s laugh. A villain’s laugh for a villain, a villain with blood caking his hands and madness pressing on the edges of his mind

(is it progress, that he can recognize it now?)

(but is it madness? or is it just him? what is real, the brother that he used to be, or the shattered, destructive thing that he became? can he blame his actions on madness when he enjoyed every moment?)

and now a heart pumping in his chest, alive, alive, alive. Alive, when he never wanted it, when he explicitly told Tommy not to—

Not to what? To bring him back? Tommy wanted him, but Dream is the one with the power, or so Tommy said. Dream, alive just like him, when he has no right to be. A villain just like him, but not, but worse

(who do you think you’re fooling? how much of Tommy’s pain can be laid at your feet?)

for all that he’s done. To Tommy, to everyone on the server, even to those who once counted him as a friend.

(He was one, wasn’t he? In the early days, in the peaceful days, before the war? They were all friends, then, when Dream invited them to his world, invited them to make a home and to stay, and he really thought that he could settle here, with his little brother and with everyone else. He was friends with Dream, then.)

(The war was a game, in the beginning. He can’t pinpoint the moment when that changed.)

And perhaps Tommy forced the issue, forced the resurrection. But Dream still made the choice to do it. In the end, he is back at Dream’s behest and at no one else’s, and anger stirs in him, that he is in any way beholden to that bastard, to the asshole who caused so much pain, so much suffering, who tormented and abused his little brother

(but you did the same, don’t forget)

to the point of—

He is not Ghostbur. Not in any way that matters, just like Ghostbur wasn’t truly him. But he remembers what Ghostbur knew, more or less, and more than that, he understands in a way that Ghostbur was never capable of. In a way, part of him envies Ghostbur his naivety. Most of him doesn’t, though, isn’t capable of anything more than a vague disgust at best. Naivety helps no one, does nothing. The naive either learn better, or they die. That’s the way the world works, has always been the way that the world works.

The point is, he has perspective that Ghostbur didn’t. He knows what Dream did. What he’ll do again, if given the chance, and he will have that chance. Tommy’s decision to spare him has guaranteed as much. Even the most inescapable prison cannot hold someone like Dream forever.

He forms a fist. Punches the tree. It smarts, and finally, here is a sensation that does not overwhelm him, that is almost comforting in its familiarity, that clears his head and allows him to focus. There is solid ground beneath his feet and water dripping from his soaked hair onto his face. He is in a forest that he doesn’t recognize. His heart beats in his chest.

Alive, alive, alive.

“What the fuck have you done?” he murmurs, and his voice is a broken, frayed thing. Unsurprisingly, he receives no answer, and his mind is left to invent them, each more terrible than the last.

This much is clear, though, he needs to

(find his family)

(see Dream dead)

(blow them all to hell and back because why not, what more is there to lose)

(run run run as far and as fast as possible)

get to Tommy? Get to Tommy. Yes. That’s the first step. Get to Tommy, shake the life out of him until he owns up to whatever the hell he was thinking with this. Learn more about how he defeated Dream in the first place, because surely that will be relevant information, because surely the second step will be to kill Dream. He’s too dangerous to be kept alive, and he’s outlived his use anyway.

If Tommy truly spared him just so that he would… resurrect Wilbur, well. He’s served his purpose. There’s no reason to keep him breathing.

Even if—

Well.

He’ll think about it when the time comes.

(he doesn’t want to be here, please, let him rest, let him be free)

For now, he is here, and he has a goal, has a plan. So he takes his first step forward, and finds walking easier than he expected. His muscles seem to remember how to do it, now, and his strides grow longer and longer until he is a hair’s breadth away from running, sprinting through the trees, and his legs begin to burn, and it is a good burn, a burn that comes from simple exertion, from the revolutionary act of living, and the rain pours down and giddiness fills him, if just for a moment. If just for a moment, he thinks that perhaps this might not be such a bad thing after all.

If just for a moment.

He breaks through the tree line. And stops.

He knows where he is.

He hadn’t realized before, how cold it was. Or rather, he realized it distantly, in the manner of things that don’t quite effect him, that he acknowledges but doesn’t have to think on. But it does effect him, and as his adrenaline wears off, chills run across his body, his skin erupting in gooseflesh. He’s not dressed for this climate, is wearing the same clothes he died in, the white shirt and the trenchcoat that does little in the way of providing warmth.

But he knows where he is.

Or rather, Ghostbur did, so now he does. There is snow in the distance, about a twenty minute walk, perhaps. The border of the tundra. From there, it isn’t far to Techno’s base. Another half hour on foot, if the weather isn’t too bad.

Techno.

He hadn’t even thought to go see him. Hadn’t spared a thought for his other brother, or for his father, who he knows is staying with him. But they are so close, right there, and his objective is to get to Tommy, but

(he wants to see them, wants them so bad, wants his brother’s protective glare and his father’s warm embrace)

he doesn’t know where Tommy is, does he? He has a general idea, but no more than that, and even besides, he doesn’t know anything about the current politics of the server, other than the fact that Dream is locked away. Who does that leave in charge, if anyone? Who is on whose side? What sides are left at all?

He needs more information. Techno isn’t likely to be in the loop, all things considered, but even a little bit of intelligence would be better than no intelligence at all. And he’s closer. A warm house sounds very nice right now.

He considers his objectives, and makes a mental readjustment. Tommy can be second, Dream third. That’s fine. Techno first.

If, that is, Techno allows him in. If he doesn’t slam the door on his face. If he doesn’t kill him again. He liked Ghostbur, Wilbur thinks, but Ghostbur was Ghostbur, and he is himself, and he doesn’t know where they stood with each other, by the end. Doesn’t know whether Techno will be glad to see him at all. That shouldn’t matter to him, though. It shouldn’t matter at all what Techno thinks of him,

(even if something in him balks at the idea that Techno might hate him, that Techno, his brother who he has protected and pestered in equal measure, who has done the same for him since the day Phil took his hand and brought him home and said to the piglin hybrid waiting at the door, Techno, this is your new brother Wilbur, please don’t kill each other)

since he has his goals, and those are what’s important. So really, if Techno turns him away, he’s no worse off, if a little colder and wetter. He goes back to the original plan of getting to Tommy, killing Dream. In that order.

Right. Right.

This will work.

It will be several hours of walking through the cold. Best to start now. So he does, walking at a steady pace, aiming for the snow, and—

Something blue.

Something blue flashes in the corner of his eye, and he freezes, wheels around, his heart pounding in his ears. His eyes dart around, but there is nothing there, nothing that he can see. No movement in the trees behind him. No movement in the grass around him. No movement in the snowy climate ahead. No movement, but then, that doesn’t mean that nothing is there, that he didn’t see anything at all,

(because it’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you)

and he’s certain that he did. That he saw blue.

Blue has strange connotations for him, now. He’s not Ghostbur. But Ghostbur’s memories linger.

“Who’s there?” he calls out, and is proud of the way his voice holds steady. There is no reply, and still no movement. “You can come out, if you want to talk. I’m unarmed,” he adds, and immediately regrets it. If there is someone there, there is a good likelihood that they mean him harm. He didn’t exactly… leave on a good note, and advertising his lack of a weapon to someone who might very well want to kill him is not a good idea.

But nothing happens either way. No one steps out from behind a tree to talk. No one jumps out and tries to stab him. He waits for a few minutes before admitting defeat and turning back to his path.

Perhaps he imagined it. It wouldn’t be the strangest thing that’s ever happened to him.

(but he didn’t, he knows he didn’t, and he’s pretty sure that there’s something he’s forgetting)

He’ll be alert. Careful. Watchful. It’s all he can do at this point.

So, with a heart beating in his chest and lungs that breathe and feet that touch the ground, Wilbur goes off to find his brother.

---------

As a note, I’m new to writing for this fandom, so while I don’t have a taglist for it yet, I’m happy to make one if anyone would like, so feel free to ask!

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp fic #wilbur soot #wilbur dsmp #alivebur #/rp #cat writes fic #long post #here we go :)

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bastardtetsu · 4 years

Text

{day 03} people will say we’re in love | kuroo x reader

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x f!manager!reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers, confession

wc: 1.2k

warnings: f!reader, a tiny bit of swearing, soft k*roo being a jackass as usual

⍋⋆*❅｡. 25 days of fic-mas mlist .｡❅*⋆⍋

don’t sigh and gaze at me your sighs are so like mine your eyes mustn’t glow at mine people will say we’re in love

—people will say we’re in love; oklahoma! (music & lyrics by rodgers & hammerstein)

the first few times it happened you just played it off. people assume incorrectly all the time, and you honestly couldn’t blame them for assuming that the handsome young man you seem to be around all the time is your boyfriend. besides, it was easy enough to explain that he’s actually just the (incessantly annoying) captain of the boys volleyball team you manage, whom you have no romantic feelings for whatsoever.

that is, until that stopped being entirely true.

you’re not sure when it started, but you began to realize when you noticed that benign misunderstanding starting to fluster you more and more each time. there’s a reason people always mistake you for a couple, after all: kuroo not only dotes on you, but he is shamelessly flirting every moment he’s around you, even when you negate his flattery with exasperation - which just makes you seem even more like an old married couple

of course, being flirty and teasing is just a part of kuroo’s personality, so it’s not like that makes you special, and what might look like fondness towards you is actually just him sucking up to his manager for extra gym time. but, it’s enough to get you thinking about what it would be like if you were really together like that, and once you start thinking about it, you find it hard to stop.

you still try, though, reminding yourself that getting romantically involved with the captain of the team you’re managing is messy and unprofessional, and you don’t even know if he has any feelings like that anyway. this is all just a joke that’s been blown way out of proportion.

at least, that’s what you try to tell yourself when the same convenience store clerk mistakes kuroo for your boyfriend the 3rd time this week.

“why does she keep doing that??” you huff in frustration once you’re out the door, “how many times am i gonna have to explain that we’re not dating?”

“people sure do that a lot, huh?” kuroo muses, “i wonder why.” your face burns at his provocative tone.

“well it’s not my fault,” you retort defensively, “you’re the one who’s always doing shit, like—“

“like what?” he challenges, smirking down on you with an entertained look in his eye. you glare back at him.

“well first off, maybe don’t throw flowers at me in front of the entire cheering squad at a game.”

“those were from the team!”

“hush. you could also lay off sucking up to my family—“

“whoa. if you’re trying to get between me and your mom’s cooking right now we’re gonna have a huge problem.”

“that’s not the—ugh,” you groan, your exasperation mounting, “just stop acting so in love with me, okay? don’t laugh at my jokes or look at me all lovey-dovey like you do, just cut it out so people will quit suspecting things!”

there’s a brief pause as your words hang in the air. kuroo cocks his head.

“who laughs at your jokes?”

you deliver a hard smack against his chest with your bookbag.

“hey!!” he cries, “not fair! you know, some might say that you’re just as much to blame as i am.”

“excuse me?” you glare at him.

“what about the time you went out of your way to bake my favorite dessert?”

“i made that for the team,” you protest.

“or the time you made me carve our initials into a tree like we were a couple?”

“ok yeah, but i didn’t ask you to draw a HEART around them!”

“well what other shape was i supposed to draw?? an octagon!?”

“GOD you’re hopeless,” you groan. just then, you begin to feel raindrops start to come down. kuroo notices too.

“i’ve got an umbrella,” he says, pausing to rummage through his book bag. you stand there waiting for him as the rain begins to fall, dampening your hair and jacket.

he finally finds the umbrella, popping it open and holding it out for you first.

“you shouldn’t wait in the rain for me if you don’t want people suspecting things,” he purrs.

“shut up,” you jab, subconsciously taking his arm as you attempt to fit both of your bodies underneath the small umbrella.

“probably shouldn’t do that either,” he grins impishly, glancing down at your hand gripping the crook of his elbow. you just roll your eyes, trying to hide your embarrassment but keeping your hand firmly in place.

as the two of you continue your walk home together, the breeze picks up as the rain continues. you rub your hands together, starting to feel chilly. kuroo notices, just like he always notices everything.

“here,” he says, moving his free hand to wrap it around your cold fingers. you can feel your face flush and your heart speed up at the loving gesture. ordinarily his hands aren’t much warmer than yours, but this time you could swear you feel some sweat on his palm as he heats you with his touch.

“i guess this should probably be off limits too,” he says, “you know. if we don’t want people saying things.”

“it— it’s ok,” you mutter hesitantly, “this feels nice.”

“yeah,” he almost whispers, hoping you don’t notice the heat rushing to his own face as he musters up the courage to say what he’s thinking next. “i don’t mind when people say those kinds of things, you know.”

“huh?” you look up at him, stunned.

“like when they think that we’re dating,” he says, “i don’t mind— i guess, um, i wouldn’t mind—if it were true.”

your heart skips a beat. you can see the flush of pink dusting his cheeks now that you’re looking at him straight-on, even though his own eyes are currently glued to the pavement. your hand is still enveloped in his, the warmth now permeating much more than just your hand.

“i… don’t think i’d mind either,” you utter in the smallest voice possible.

it’s loud enough to get kuroo’s attention, though. his head jerks up to meet your gaze, eyes incredulous.

“what was that?” he presses.

“i— i wouldn’t mind either,” you repeat a little louder. his eyes are practically glowing now.

“y/n,” he breathes, “you… want me to be your boyfriend?”

holding your breath, you gather the strength to look him in the eyes. all you can manage is a tiny nod.

this is enough for him though, his face lighting up in an uncontrollable grin. he takes a deep breath, then, lifting his head up and out,

“HEY!!! IF ANYONE OUT THERE CAN HEAR ME, I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT Y/N IS MY GIRL!!!!”

“tetsu—“

“SHE WANTS ME TO BE HER BOYFRIEND!!!!”

“KUROO!! shut the hell up, they’ll hear you all the way in miyagi!”

“let ‘em.” he turns his gaze back to you, grinning as his strong hand squeezes around yours, having never left its place.

you can’t help but smile back at him. despite your embarrassment, the feeling of that hand intertwined with yours is enough to assuage any concerns of what other people might say.

as long as you can keep holding onto him, nothing else matters.

a/n: aight this was absolutely one of my favorites to write for multiple reasons: the first is obviously that i am a big simp for the rooster head man. but i am also a big simp for the sexy 2019 oklahoma! revival and its entire company - ESPECIALLY damon daunno, whose interpretation of curly fits kuroo’s character so well it makes me sick, and could also make me c*m untouched with just his voice. seriously. i am begging you to click on the linked songs at the top of the post (i kinda combined the song with its reprise in act ii for this fic - i suggest listening to both for the full experience) you will thank me i promise. if you want visuals i like this concert performance they did - there’s no staging, but you’ll get to see damon daunno (warning: he is as hot as he sounds) and rebecca naomi jones (equally hot, unfortunately) and that should be enough to ruin your life for now. i’m not even gonna bother linking any performances or recordings that aren’t the 2019 revival, no other version of oklahoma! exists in my mind. n e wayz sorry this author’s note was so long lmao i am very passionate about this one, but i hope you enjoyed it too <3

taglist: @izagraceee @musicgetsmeoutofbed @azo-musxas @tsumurai

#kuroo tetsuro #haikyuu!!#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x reader #25 days of ficmas #.txt #e writes

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fanmoose12 · 4 years

Text

Best Friends Forever

Sometimes, even best friends argue.

Tap, tap, tap.

Levi hears a knocking on his bedroom window, but he makes no move to get up and look out. He knows who is on the other side. And he has no desire to see her.

So he turns in his bed, covering his head with a blanket. If he continues to ignore her, maybe, she will go away.

But a couple of minutes later, the initially soft knocks become louder and louder. Soon the glass in the window starts to shake.

Levi gets up, his little fists shaking from anger. If she continues to bang at his window so loudly, his mother will wake up. He won’t let that happen.

So, he opens the window. Of course, she is here – crouching on his windowsill, that stupid grin on her face and those ugly glasses, slipping down her nose, as usual.

“Took you long enough,” the smile grows wider, as Hange tries to get inside his room.

Levi harshly slaps her hands, glaring daggers at her. “Go away,” he hisses, pushing her back. “You’re disturbing my sleep.”

Hange eyebrows furrow together. “But you never go to bed that early.”

“Now I do,” Levi’s anger grows every second. Why can’t she just leave him alone? It’s obvious that he doesn’t want to see her.

“Is everything alright?” Hange asks, her voice quiet with worry. In spite of Levi’s attempts, she manages to slip inside, landing on his bedroom floor with a barely audible ‘thud’.

“I’m fine,” Levi grumbles, turning away from her. Now that Hange’s inside, he knows that he can’t throw her out. It will cause too much noise, and that is something Levi is desperately trying to avoid.

“Is something wrong with your mother?” Hange comes to stand next to him, her hand clasping his shoulder.

Levi shakes her hand off so violently, as though it burned him. “She is fine, and I’m fine, everything is fine! Now leave me alone!”

“What?” Hange looks at him, as though she didn’t quite understand his words. “You want me to leave?”

“Are you deaf now too, four-eyes?”

“Levi,” Hange says, ignoring his insult. “What happened?”

Levi opens his eyes widely, staring at her. It is dark in his room, and he can’t see her face that clearly, but is Hange serious? Does she really not know what bothers him so much?

“You can tell me anything,” Hange adds after the prolonged silence. There is a small and soft smile on her lips. “We’re best friends, right?” she raises her arm, showing a small bracelet.

Recently, Levi was wearing the same one. He threw it out today.

“Are we still best friends?” Levi hates, how small his voice sounds. So he looks at Hange, adding as much anger to his gaze as possible. “I thought you’ve found yourself a new one.”

At first, Hange is confused. But then slowly her eyes fill with understanding. “Are you talking about Erwin?”

Levi’s face cringes, as he hears that name. Erwin came to their town last month. And in the beginning, he was… alright. He is cool and organized, a far cry from Hange, who always has her hands in some shit and whose ass is constantly seeking out some dumb adventures.

Levi even liked him, but then Hange started liking him too much.

One day, while they were playing in their tree house, Erwin told them about his father’s giant study room, filled with hundreds of books. And, of course, Hange – a massive book nerd that she is - demanded to see that room.

And ever since they’ve visited Erwin’s house, annoying four-eyes can’t stop gushing about those stupid books, spending literal hours in discussions with Erwin.

Naturally, it annoys Levi. Hange is his best friend, but now she spends all of her time with Erwin. She talks about books and what she thinks of them, what ideas they give her. She talks, and talks, and talks, and she rarely encourages Levi to participate.

Sure, he isn’t smart, as Erwin and Hange, and he doesn’t have the patience to read through those massive books, but Hange didn’t seem to care about it before. Before she met Erwin, she was happy being friends with him.

And Levi had some hope that it will change, that Hange will grow bored of constantly discussing some dumb books and soon will return to him. She will ask him to go on some stupid adventure, and Levi will instantly refuse. Hange will beg and plead with him, until Levi caves in and begrudgingly agrees to follow her.

He misses those days.

But today all of his hopes of returning back to them were shattered.

Usually Hange visits him each morning, dragging him out on the streets to play. But today, she didn’t show up, so Levi decided to go to her house. Maybe, Hange was sick? Or, maybe, she and her family were getting ready for a trip out town?

However, after he rang the bell to Hange’s house, her mother walked out, looking a bit confused.

“Hange is already gone,” she said and Levi’s heart clenched painfully.

As he went to the tree house, his fears were confirmed – Hange was sitting there, and, of course, Erwin was beside her.

Neither of them noticed him and after watching for a moment, seeing Hange laugh at something Erwin said, Levi tore apart his bracelet, throwing it on the ground. Then he turned away from them, running back home.

He was gloomy and angry ever since.

“Yes, I am talking about him!” Levi says, returning back to their conversation. “Erwin, your new best friend!”

“Hey, that’s not true!” Hange protests, pursing her lips. “You are my best friend!”

“Really?” Levi crosses hands on his chest. “Then why don’t you invite me to play anymore?”

“You’re lying! I always ask you!”

“But you didn’t invite me today!”

“Oh…” Hange instantly deflates. She looks guilty, as she fiddles with a strap of her backpack. “I didn’t have the time to call you today… Erwin was going somewhere with his father this afternoon, and he couldn’t play as long as usually…”

“So that’s it?” Levi asks, staring up at her. That fact further adds fuel to his anger. Just one year ago, Hange was shorter than him, but now she’s towering over him, like some kind of a giant. “Erwin is more important than me?”

“Of course, not!” Hange almost shouts, but swiftly covers her mouth, when Levi throws her a mean look. “He is not more important than you,” she continues much quieter. “You’re my best friend, no one is more important to me than you! I even have a proof!” Hange smiles tentatively, showing him the bracelet.

Levi lowers his head, feeling guilty. “I don’t think it can count as a proof of our friendship. I lost my own today.”

“Oh, no!” Hange’s hands fly to her face, covering her cheeks. “How did it happen? We have to search for it! We can’t let it be lost! It’s a symbol of our friendship!”

Levi’s cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I threw it away, when I saw you and Erwin today. I thought you don’t want to be friends with me anymore…”

“Silly!” Hange giggles, as she wraps her hands around him. “You’ll always be my friend! And don’t worry about the bracelet, we’ll find it, I’m sure!”

“Will you help me looking for it?” Levi whispers in her shoulder.

“Of course!” Hange exclaims, as she lets him go. “We’ll begin the search first thing in the morning! Oh, Erwin has a magnifying glass, we can invit—”

“Absolutely not,” Levi replies curtly. “That bracelet is a symbol of our friendship. We have to look for it together. Without Erwin.”

“Alright, alright,” Hange smiles, taking a step away. “Well, I’ll be going now. You wanted to sleep.”

In answer to that, Levi tsks. “As if I can fall asleep after you made so much noise. So,” he looks at her. “What did you want to show me?”

“Wait a sec!” Hange shows him a toothy grin, before taking off her backpack and diving head-first into it. “Here!” she produces a small black object.

Levi stares at it, dumbfounded. “What is this?”

“It’s a patch! A pirate patch!” Hange is beyond excited. She lifts the patch to her face, covering her left eye. “See? I look like a true pirate now!”

“You look stupid,” Levi says, hiding a grin.

Hange comes closer, pressing the patch to Levi’s right eye. “Well, who is looking stupid now?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Levi decides to ignore that particular question. “Where did you get that thing?”

“I made it myself!” Hange proclaims proudly. Levi stares at her, unimpressed. She lowers her head. “Fine, my mom helped me with it.”

“That sounds more truthful,” Levi nods.

“I got another one at my home! So we can be pirates together!” Hange puffs out her chest, lifting an imaginative sword. “Can you imagine, Levi? We’ll be the greatest pirate duo this world has seen! We’ll be inspiring fear in the hearts of every man! We’ll be the biggest threat on the Trembling Sea!”

“Such sea doesn’t exist,” Levi grumbles. He takes Hange by the hand, sitting her down on the bed. He joins her and then covers both of them with blanket. “But tell me more. What ship will we have?”

Hange grins at him, practically brimming with excitement, and then begins her tale.

Levi closes his eyes, feigning disinterest, but in truth, he’s listening to her carefully, offering his remarks, when Hange’s tale becomes too ridiculous.

***

When Levi’s mother enters his room in the morning to wake him up, she witnesses an extremely adorable scene – her son and his best friend, covered with a blanket and holding onto each other tightly, as they peacefully slumber.

#very very very silly thing!#i wrote this at 4am because i couldn't fall asleep #so its not the most cohering thing in the world #levihan #levihan fanfiction #levi x hange #levi ackerman #hange zoe #levi x hanji #snk fanfiction #snk fandom #aot #levi aot

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idontmeantosoundrudebut · 4 years

Text

Many of Horror (Chapter two - That awful dream and these awful feelings)

- N O T E S -

This chapter immediately begins with a dream, so sorry if you get confused or whatever haha lol bruh! This chapter does contain mentions of referenced suicide, panic attacks, past abuse and other depressing and relatable things lol! be warned! I'm releasing this on impulse because I really wanted to give you guys more and I'm halfway done with the next chapter, which is really fucking steamy by the way so, yeah, be excited for some horizontal tango action haha lol bruh! If you enjoy, please leave a comment or a critique or whatever, I love hearing feedback about my work like any other creator! (no tea, no shade)

Also, there is terrible terror called Pain from DOB and though they’re originally male, I’ve switched them to female because I felt like it haha lol bruh!

THIS CHAPTER HAS PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR AND POOR MENTAL HEALTH! BE FUCKING WEARY!

- C H A P T E R S U M M A R Y -

It's that awful dream again, he always has it when something goes wrong, when something changes suddenly. His head can't take change, can't take it when he messes up.

And he's always so angry and afraid when he wakes up. Surely, he should be better by now.

He hates feeling like this, like he's dying.

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

He's in his childhood home. He doesn't know how he got here. They burnt that hut down years ago, a week after his father was exiled. He's standing in front of the hearth, the fire within writhing maliciously and crackling with laughter as it mocks him don't know where you are, little boy? You're home, home, home- This place isn't his home.

Snotlout doesn't belong here.

He sniffs the air and cringes at the smell of stagnant water and old blood. Something's died in here. Turning around, he stills at the sight of the corpse of a fawn lying mangled and blooded at the foot of the stairs, eyes bulging and guts tangled amongst its dainty legs, back so mauled that he can see the knobbly, pale arch of its spine.

Something innocent has died here, in this house, and it wasn't her, it croaks through a swollen tongue, teeth cutting through its cheeks with each hallow word that crawls out of its twisted throat. It's looking at him, stuck between life and death, and it's like looking in a reflection.

A black rabbit hops down the stairs, leaping over the mutilated fawn and sitting beside it. It seems calm, serene, despite the heavy stench of blood and dead water that hangs in the air, it seems at peace amongst the smell of death. The rabbit, blacker than grief, turns its head to look at him and it's like looking into a starless night, still and empty, but the flames appear in those eyes and dance in the blackness. An inferno in the dark.

There is something in the woods. You should go to speak to it, the black rabbit says and Snotlout can smell the blood in the air thicken, but there is still that undertone of stale water and he doesn't know where it's coming from.

I don't want to speak to it, he replies honestly, voice distant and quiet, and there is something inside him that says Whatever is in that woods is something better left forgotten, its something that shouldn't be spoken to.

But it wants to speak with you, the black rabbit replies and the fawn screams, It wants to speak with you, don't disappoint, be quick, don't be weak, it wants to speak with you, don't become the shame, hurry, it waits, don't make it wait, it wants to speak with you, don't disappoint, no rest for the innocent, hurry shameful boy, it wants to speak with you-

The fawn just keeps screaming. Glimmering scarlet gathers beneath its yapping jaw as more flesh is ripped from its cheeks, teeth not meant to taste blood flashing through the torn fur and cutting deep into its purple tongue, its blind eyes rolling to the back of their sockets and revealing thin, throbbing veins. It screams and screams like a tortured thing begging for death, yet still, it hangs on to the faint pulse in its heart. The black rabbit looks to the wailing fawn, then back to him.

Come to the woods. Let the innocent one scream in peace, the black rabbit says softly, hopping past him, large feet thumping against the wooden floor. The fawn keeps screaming. He asks it to stop, politely too, but he must have been too quiet. Still, it screams and screams.

A white light catches his eyes and he looks up to the landing where the stairs lead. There is a door there, left a jar and spilling blinding white light in a rectangular beacon. Steam rolls from underneath the door and through the gap, it is tinged red and smells of stale water, of dead blood. That door leads to the washroom.

To the woods, he'll go to the woods, he says simply, turning away from the screaming fawn whose body refuses to die and the door that leads to a room of blood and water.

Snotlout doesn't belong there.

He follows the black rabbit into the old wood. The trees are tall and black, reaching towards the terribly blue sky like their hungry for the sun, and their thin branches scrape against his bare arms like ghosts begging for a body to live in. Spring flowers and damp ferns brush against his legs and they also feel like hands, softer but still starving, still wanting. He follows the black rabbit, not because he wants to but because he has to.

It wants to speak with you, he hears the fawn scream in the distance.

He stops walking and stands very still, like a dear caught in an ambush. A few yards ahead in a sunlit clearing is a copper bathtub. That shouldn't be here, in the middle of the woods, it should be back at the house, in the washroom. The black rabbit runs ahead, a dark shadow against the pale grass, and disappears behind the tub.

Just like Snotlout, it doesn't belong here.

He walks closer and he smells it again. That smell of damp death. He can taste it now too, it's so strong, a coppery, stale wash across his tongue, between his teeth, down his throat. It's what he imagines it's like biting into a dead fish, all rotten blood and foul water. Suddenly his feet are bare, they make a slapping sound as he walks and he looks down to see that the ground is flooded with an inch of water. It looks dirty, wrong, tainted.

There's an arm hanging over the side of the bath tub. Was that there before he looked down? He can't remember, but it shouldn't be there. The hand is ivory in pallor, bone-pale, and two long gashes run up the inner arm from wrist to elbow. Dark blood drips from the nimble fingertips, the sound a soft drip, drip, drip as it hits the sodden soil. The trees ache and groan, they feast on the given blood through their gnarling roots that toil the black, wet earth and he thinks that they are alive. Alive and hungry.

Just like Snotlout, it doesn't belong there.

For some strange reason, he wants to hold that blood-slick hand. He imagines like that's what home feels like, cradled in her scarlet palms, gathered in her savaged arms. Her. When did it become a her? His heart told him so, oh Gods, he's so confused.

He stands at the foot of the copper tub and looks inside, expecting to see a woman with a painfully familiar face. But all he sees is blood. From bottom to brim, the tub is full of almost-black blood that glimmers red from the dappled sunlight above. The taste of blood on his tongue is so heavy that he thinks he might have a mouth full of it. A mouth full of blood and a heart full of water.

A single eye opens amongst the ocean of blood and he stares at it. It's pale and blue like a blue jay's feathers, like the terribly blue sky. He recognises those eyes, they look like his, just dead.

Always had her eyes, comes a snarling drawl and he spins around to see a great bear, stood tall and proud on the trunk of a fallen tree. He knows this place, he knows that tree, oh no, Gods, not this place. Great currents of slobber drool from the crooked mouth of the bear, sharp teeth yellow and glistening as a long tongue works around words it shouldn't be possibly speaking. Bears can't talk, but neither can black rabbits and mauled fawns.

It wants to speak with him.

Always had her eyes, wished I cut 'em out, the bear slurs as it slams a clawed paw down upon the tree, white bark spraying everywhere and he watches as those black claws curl deeper into the soft bark. He cut that tree years ago, a month after his father left, he cut it down and screamed.

Yer sick, boyo, there's somethin' festerin' inside ye, the bear bellows, spit flying and it leaves his ears ringing. He presses his hands to the side of his head and shakes it furiously. He's gone, he got rid of him, he's never coming back.

The bear laughs and it is a horrible sound, like cracking whips, like splitting flesh. I never left ye, lad, I'm always with ye, in that messed up head of yers, just as weak as yer mother's was, just as easy to break, the bear steps closer, further shredding the bark from the tree, and he is full of so much fear that it feels like there is a rabid animal in his chest. His hands feel heavy all of a sudden and he looks down to see that they're covered in blood, bright, terrible blood that falls from his fingers in great ribbons of scarlet that darken the water. The blood never stops oozing, like there is a great gash in his palms, but he can't help thinking that this isn't his blood. His heart is so scared, it's going to climb up his throat and out his mouth so it can run away.

No nono no nono no no no no no- She wasn't weak, she was brave, she was the strongest shield-maiden Berk has ever seen, she was-

WEAK! The bear roars, the sun in the sky trembles like it will fall, SHE WAS WEAK AND ILL, AND SHE'S GIVEN IT TO YE, SHE'S MADE YE SICK AND FOUL WITH WEAKNESS! The fallen tree flies across the clearing with a powerful swipe of its clawed paw and Snotlout watches it come closer, fearsome and monstrous and ugly, lips rolled up to reveal those gnashing teeth that glisten with starved spit, eyes blazing with an unimaginable evil. He looks down and sees that his hands are bound with rope, rope that burns and stings and cuts as he tries to escape, to run away.

YE WILL NEVER GET AWAY FROM ME, BOYO, IM YER OLD MAN AND YER MY SHAMEFUL SON, THE BOY WHO COULD NEVER GET IT RIGHT!

The bear rears back onto its back legs and its maw opens so wide that the flesh tears and the jaw breaks, leaving it and its tongue to hang loosely. A tremendous bellow fills the woods and the trees quiver, the earth quakes. Blood pours onto the heaving furred chest and streams down with a wet sound to the half-flooded earth, the already murky water staining pink. He stares up at the beast and gazes down its gaping throat, he has never felt so full of dread before.

Suddenly, the great bear begins to fall and he lets out a horrified scream as that open maw, that black throat, descends upon him. He leaps back into the copper tub to escape and finds himself consumed by blood.

Snotlout doesn't belong anywhere.

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Snotlout wakes up, screaming and falling.

He hits the floor with a sudden abruptness that knocks the air from his lungs and the scream still crawling from his throat comes to a stuttering halt, choking coughs now filling the blackness of his room. But that blackness soon retreats as the great blazing head of Hookfang forces its way through the skylight windows, looking around hastily before settling his cautious eyes on Snotlout, who lies pathetically on the floor beside his bed. The dragon crawls into his room and lowers the flame on his hide as Pain kindles a few candles in a short, fiery breath.

The dream? It came again? Hookfang rumbles, curling his large body up and resting his head on Snotlout's lap, expelling easing smoke from his nostrils. The violet Terror crawls swiftly from her nest of charred tunics and other burnt fabrics on the dresser to nestle herself close to his side, her usual fiery temper simmering down to accommodate to his sensitive nerves. His skin is caked in a layer of cold sweat but he feels so hot, like a furnace is blazing inside him, like a fever is boiling beneath his flesh. It leaves him shivering.

"Yeah, yeah it did," He responds, voice rough and cracked, breathing in the warm scent of smoke so it can overwhelm the still lingering smell of blood and water (it was a dream, but it follows him when he's awake, it echoes around him like a ghost).

Rubbing a hand over the side of his face, Snotlout tries to collect his thoughts and rid the dream from his memory, tries to think about other things, tries to distract himself before he starts to feel... the Itch. But then he remembers the blood. Not the blood in the bathtub or the fawn-blood at the bottom of the stairs, but the blood on his hands, that heavy blood, that blood that wasn't his. With panic rising in his throat, he lays his hands before him and inspects them with sharp eyes, expecting to see blood crusted in his callouses or dug beneath his nails, something to show that it was real. But there is no blood, there never is. But the candles flicker from a rogue breeze and in the shifting shadows, his hands go red and a scream is already gathering in his chest because, oh Gods, the blood is real and that means it was all real and the tub is in the woods and the bear- Oh Gods, not the bear- He's back and he's in the woods! A distant howl rings through his ear; He wants to speak with you! Hurry-

A guttural sound breaks the maddening spell Snotlout had caught himself in and he blinks, but he doesn't stop staring in fear at his hands, they look clean now but in the dark, in the dark the blood comes and the hungry things in the shadows can smell it. Pain rises onto her hind legs and begins to lick at his hands, cleaning them thoroughly with her forked tongue, soft sounds chittering in the back of her lithe throat. No blood, see? I taste no blood, so there is none.

"I know," He chokes out, the breath stuck in his chest forcing itself out harshly, and he sooths a hand over her head in a thankful gesture, her purple scales silk-like and warm beneath his palm, "I know, Pain,"

Hookfang's purring fills the room like thunder. Snotlout can feel it in the floor, in his bones, a gentle tremble throughout his body that helps him try and regain his focus. Pain, always quick to doze off, starts to purr a lighter and chipper sound in her sleep. They know the routine; it's been going on for years.

Snotlout sighs and wishes he was normal, wishes he didn't have these awful, repetitive nightmares and these violent urges and these ugly thoughts. Wishes he could deal with it alone because it's less trouble for the others, both his dragons and his friends, he wishes he wasn't such a bother to them. He wishes he could go back, back before it all happened, and be the old him, be that innocent child before he died in the house.

Gods, he wishes Eret was here.

Eret is so good at getting Snotlout out of his head, whether it be by fucking him or talking to him or just by simply sitting with him, no one knows how to ease the wrongness in his head better than Eret. But, to Snotlout's displeasure, Eret is traversing the archipelago on this good deed and Snotlout is here, alone and rotting. Damn the Gods, he hates feeling like this.

"Four times this week I've had that stupid dream, Hookfang, four times!" He emphasises this by holding up four fingers to the dragon, who nods in response with another plume of smoke to ease his frustration, "If this keeps up, I'm not going to be on top of my game, you know? And I bet Hiccup will notice like he notices everything, and he'll ask if I'm okay and I'll tell him fine and then I'll feel bad because I lied and-"

Stopping abruptly, Snotlout shoves his face into his hands and screams as hard and as loud as he can, he feels it ripping through his throat. It's lucky that he built his house so far away from anyone else. There is a crawling feeling moving across his flesh and its making him want to do something really stupid, something he'll regret, something weak. Hookfang croons at him, lifting his head as Snotlout draws his legs up to his chest, his left leg bouncing rapidly. Rudely awoken, Pain rubs her horned-head lightly against his side in attempt to sooth him.

Not Snotlout fault, Snotlout done nothing wrong, Hookfang reassures as he rubs his lower jaw over Snotlout's dishevelled hair, deep purrs vibrating throughout his body as he tries to sooth the harsh, ugly scents that pour from the Viking.

Yes, Snotlout done no bad, we promise, no bad has been done tonight, the Terror adds in earnest, nipping affectionately at his tunic as she hums to him.

"I know, I know," He snarls into his palms, both legs now bouncing as he digs his blunt nails into his browbone, "But I will, I will, I'll fuck up again and I'll need it again,"

The dark thing in his head swells like a storm-sodden cloud and it thunders and rumbles and cracks behind his eyes, sending jolts of impulsive, disgusting thoughts through his head.

TEAR OUT YOUR EYES. FLAY YOUR SKIN. RIP OUT YOUR NAILS. KILL THEM BOTH.

He shakes his head violently, as if he could through them from his mind, and pulls his hands away from his face, fingers twitching and palms sweating. There have been nights where the smallest temptation sets him loose.

Go see Hiccup, he will help, he will give you council, Hookfang advices as always, but Snotlout, for the fourth night in a row, dismisses the idea with a savage scowl and a dark look in his eyes.

"I can't run to Hiccup every time I want to hurt myself-"

The words trigger a reaction and in a sudden moment of impulse, Snotlout slams his fist into the floor, the wood splintering beneath the impact and his knuckles sting as they're impaled with shards of wood. Pain makes shrieks at the loud impact and immediately goes to his injured hand to clean it but Snotlout makes a snarling sound and wraps his arms tightly around his chest, as if he's trying to secure them so they can't do any more damage. She snorts disapprovingly at him but she knows he will ask for help when he wants it, so she curls up at his side again, jasper eyes only half-closed.

"Or to anyone, for that matter! I'm not a kid anymore, okay?! I'm Twenty-two, I'm an adult. Everyone's got their own problems and I'm not going to burden them with mine, not when I can deal with them myself," Hookfang, as well as Pain, lets out a scoff at that and he doesn't flinch at the death-stare thrown his way, which doesn't surprise Snotlout but it still damages his ego a bit.

"I can! I don't need you, or Hiccup, or anyone! You understand me, you stupid dragon!? I don't need anyone, not even Eret!"

But the fury in his voice catches in his throat at the mention of Eret and again Snotlout is full of the overwhelming sense of loneliness that has flooded him since he left Berk. His heart, the traitorous thing, aches at the mere thought of him and his hands, the stupid things, feel so empty without someone to hold on to.

He doesn't know why he's denying the obvious truths in his life. That's something the old him used to do, the angry boy who suffered alone because he believed he deserved it, because he thought asking for help was below him. Snotlout isn't that angry boy anymore, no, he understands the wrongs that were done to him and understands that asking for help isn't a weak thing. But old habits die hard, he guesses.

Without a shadow of a doubt, he needs Hookfang and Hiccup and, by the Gods, he doesn't just need Eret, he wants him. And it's beautiful because Eret wants him back and Snotlout is always left in awe at that.

"I'm being stupid again, aren't I?" Snotlout mumbles sadly, looking up to see Hookfang gazing down at him, orange eyes unimpressed, and he nods his head with an additional snort to support his answer. He looks down to see Pain stood rigidly beside him, tiny-lethal teeth bared and arrow-head tail darting left and right, and to further prove her wrath, she lurches forward and give him a shallow slash of her claws. It doesn't even cut the skin, just leaves three white lines on his forearms.

Snotlout exhales through a thin laugh, but the guilt is still heavy in his blood.

"I'm sorry, you guys, I'm not feeling myself again, with these dreams coming back and Eret gone. I just wish I could, you know, deal with things normally,"

Forgiving Snotlout, Hookfang again lowers his head and presses it up against Snotlout's drawn up legs, Pain too scuttles back to her place at Snotlout's side, teething devotedly on the corner of his tunic. A chill draft wafts in through the open windows and cools Snotlout's skin, which feel hot and tight.

We understand, Snotlout miss mate and the bad dreams back, We understand, Hookfang grumbles reassuringly, tendrils of smoke rising from flared nostrils, and he watches as Snotlout lifts his injured hand, slowly picking out the splinters in his knuckles with a look of deep focus on his face.

"I'll be back to my old self soon, pal, I just-"

He pauses, hissing as he methodically drags out a long splinter from the flesh between his index and middle knuckle. Holding it up against the candlelight, he marvels at the half-inch long shard of wood that had been nestled his flesh, thick syrupy blood dripping from the splinter onto his lap.

The pain that spreads across his hand and flares up his arm feels good, harsh and familiar and good, it brings a sigh of relief to his lips. The pain feels like absolution. His previous wrongs have been righted in the hotness of pain.

Then, Hookfang's nostrils quiver and his head shoots up quickly, turning to the open skylight with his teeth bared and eyes narrowed., Pain too takes up an offensive stance with ferocious growls unfurling in her throat. Snotlout swallows thickly when he hears the heavy beating of wings outside, his stomach twisting in anxiety because no one should be here, no one is supposed to see him like this, not tonight. He wants to be alone tonight. The roof creaks when a great weight settles upon it, dust pouring down to the floor in chalky streams. He stares wide-eyed and apprehensive at the square-view of the black night, heart pounding because something inside him is say he's back, he's back and he's going to take you to the woods.

But instead, Cloudjumper's head peers into the room, owlish eyes gazing down at him with a curious concern.

Why are you here? Hookfang spits lowly, his tail swishing in a display of irritation, Yes! Why Four-Wing here?! Not allowed! Go or Die! Pain adds hotly, tiny wings thrashing as she claws threateningly into the floor.

Cloudjump, amused and unafraid, snorts at Hookfang's brashness and Pain's threats, replying with a garbled I heard screaming, it sounded painful, so help has come.

"Help isn't needed right now, thank you, bye," He says crassly, arms wrapping around his chest defensively as he glares up at the Storm-Cutter, who stares back with soft eyes, completely ignoring the yapping Terror and the glaring Nightmare.

"Oh, I don't know about that," comes a serene voice and Snotlout watches as Valka descends downs into his room, perched on Cloudjumper's clawed wing. She easily steps off and steps forth to cradle Hookfang's jaw, the moody Nightmare instantly melting in her gentle touch. Pain forgets immediately why she was angry and scuttles swiftly to Valka, winding between her ankles like an affectionate alley cat begging for love (or food).

While crooning at the puppy-eyed Terror, Valka looks to Snotlout with a soft and reassuring expression, her eyes glimmering in the candlelight as they gloss over with empathy. She can see the tears stains that have yet to dry, see the stress and the tiredness and the fear. Snotlout stares back, jaw set and muscles stiff, she isn't meant to be here.

"You look like ye need a bit of help there, dear," Valka says as she crouches down, half crawling towards him, agile fingers gracing the floor.

It's the same movement she does when she meets a dragon who's wild and scared, ready to strike out in fear with its teeth bared and claws flexing. He feels a bit of pride that he's seen as a deadly thing, but then he remembers that he doesn't want to be feared anymore, that he doesn't want to hurt anyone.

Oh but you do, don't you? You think about it, you imagine blood and you hunger for the taste. People are traitorous creatures and they deserve-

"Snotlout,"

The voice knocks the grating snarl from his head and Snotlout looks up to see Valka crouched a few feet before him, cautious yet calm as she gazes questioningly at him. Can I come closer? She asks with her eyes, eyes that are so painfully familiar to him.

Those are his mother's eyes right there. Sister eyes.

He nods his head once, lungs still seized and heart still shaking, and then he nods again, firmer this time, trying to be braver because, Gods, it's only Valka, his aunt, his heart-mother. Snotlout shouldn't be afraid of her. But she's got a heart full of kindness and that has always scared him, kindness.

Kindness was an unfamiliar hand to younger him and it was easier to cling onto the hand that beat him, the familiar closed fist that promised tough love would make a man out of him. He'd bite the hand of kindness because it was a stranger's hand, he didn't know kindness.

But that was years ago, that angry boy who bit and spat at empathy is no more and Snotlout can now gather the courage to ask for kindness, sometimes he doesn't even have to ask. Still, it always leaves a tightness in his chest because... What does he do with all that kindness? Where does he put all the love given to him? In his heart, his black, scarred, twisted heart? No, but then where?

A hand, soft-skinned and porous-boned, cards through the hair on the back of his head and the trapped air is liberated from his seizing lungs, falling from his lips in a long, shaky exhale. He blinks the blurriness from his eyes and turns to sees Valka sat beside him with Pain coiled in her lap, a very gentle look on a face as she looks at him.

"A very bad habit that, gettin' lost in ye head. I'm afraid ye might get it from me, you know, Hiccup's always gettin' himself roped up in his thoughts too." She says quietly, as if she's scared she'll spook him if she speaks too loud, "Ye both think too much,"

He laughs at that, a dry, humourless laugh that's sounds gravely and dark in the back of his scorned throat.

"You know, I've been told I do the exact opposite of thinking too much," Snotlout replies, flexing his bloodied hand in front of him and revelling in the stinging pain that ripples through his nerves.

The deeper cuts on his knuckles have oozed heavy rivulets of blood down his fingers and have seeped into the callouses on his palms, a few veins of red have even made their way down his bare forearm. He looks down at the brilliant red and it looks like he's killed someone, or something. This is the blood of his guilt.

Valka's breath hisses as she inhales through her teeth, her hands reaching forward and cradling his gently as she looks over the weeping wounds. The careful gesture leaves him with goosebumps, it's the distinctive touch of a mother's hand. A hand he has longed to hold since he was a child.

"Yer stronger than ye realise, Snotlout, goin' to hurt ye'self badly one of these days," Valka whispers and Snotlout swallows, swallows the horrible urge to scream in her face-

THAT'S THE POINT! DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?! I NEED TO! IT'LL MAKE ALL THAT GUILT GO AWAY IF IT HURTS BAD! THE PAIN, OH SWEET, FAMILIAR PAIN! IT STOPS ME FROM RUNNING BECAUSE IF I START, I WON'T BE ABLE TO STOP! I'LL RUN AWAY AND NEVER COME BACK!

Snotlout swallows all those terrible truths and oh how they swoon in his gut, like flocks of terrible birds in a terrible cage. It's all so terrible.

"Can't help it, you know, I'm brawn and no brains, all that stuff," He smiles awkwardly, watching her inspect his bruising knuckles and pick out the smaller splinters he missed. The pain is small, a petty penance.

"Well, I know that's not true, not when I see ye and Hiccup planning our raids-" Valka stands up and starts to roam around the room, stepping over Hookfang's smoking snout to get to the chest at the foot of Snotlout's bed, "You're a great strategist and I have never known a time where your instincts have failed us,"

Pain steps onto his lap and begins to clean the bloody cuts, Snotlout lets her and places a hand on her back between her wings, thumbing at a soft spot along her spine. She chitters gratefully. The chest opens with a quiet sound and Valka delves her hands inside, rummaging for a few moments before retrieving a bundle of bandages.

It's common knowledge among the gang where he keeps all his belongings, they all basically know his house better than he does at this point. It seems that so does Valka.

Hookfang grunts and babbles randomly as he shifts in his sleep, dragging his head across the floor and making Valka's journey back more hazardous, but she deals with it with as much grace as a woman who's lived amongst bumbling dragons for over twenty years. Curious, Snotlout looks to the skylight and sees Cloudjumper observing Valka with that fond and comfortable look he sometimes catches Hookfang giving him. The ceiling heaves with the Storm-Cutter's great breaths, it looks the house is alive, alive and breathing.

Alive and hungry.

"Now let's get these wrapped up, eh?" Valka crouches down in front of him, bandages weaved between her fingers as she gestures for his hand. "And in the mornin' ye'll go to Gothi, understood? Or I'll send Hiccup after ye,"

Snotlout snorts as he nods in understanding, keenly watching the first layer of bandaging being folded over his knuckles, red blooming on white before disappearing beneath the next layer. The pressure against the more vicious cuts is morbidly pleasant to him.

They're both quiet as she wraps his hand, nothing but the soft sound of their breathing and the rumbling tones of Hookfang's snores to fill the silence. He looks are Valka now, really looks at her, and he really does see that they were sisters, her and his mum, he can see it in her the pale blue of her eyes, in the auburn tumble of her hair, in the gentle curve of her face.

He remembers his mum now, remembers her in a memory from when he was seven and it was the heart of winter, cold and grey outside and warm and amber inside. She was sat by the hearth, fletching her arrows and polishing her bow as he watched her with the wide-eyed curiosity of a child, chewing his lips as a question flickered in his head.

"Mum?" She hums in acknowledgment, fire glistening in her eyes and haloing the tresses of her hair (She'd always remove her braids when she came home for the night, usually it was twisted into a beautiful fauxhawk braid), "Did you make your bow?"

She'd paused then, the rag in her hand stilling along the agile wood, and looked up at him with a terrible sadness in her eyes. They no longer looked blue, they looked grey, drained of all warmth. They looked like the winter sky. He remembers feeling sad too.

"No," She replied, a smile on her lips, but it was sad too and Snotlout didn't understand how a smile could be sad, smiles were supposed to happy things (he knows better now), "Your aunt Valka made it, but not for more me, no, I used to be awful at archery,"

"I don't believe you," He'd gasped loudly, "You're the best archer on Berk! Dad said you could hold a bow before you could walk!" She'd laughed at that, deep and hearty.

"Your dad's a fool, Lout, haven't I told you that before?"

Oh, mum, he was more than a fool. He was a monster in hiding and when you died he stopped hiding from me, he hid from everyone else but he didn't hide from me. I saw the beast, I saw him alone and I looked into his eyes and saw evil and the evil looked into me. Mum, I should have listened to you. Mum, mum... please mum.

"Your aunt was the best before me, you know? Taught me that to hold a bow is like to hold the wind, you have to be gentle and focused, precise, true to your heart that you only need one shot," His mum ghosted a hand over the dark wood of the bow, caressing it as if it were a lover's arching neck, and Snotlout had scooted closer looking at the finer details carved long the upper and lower limbs of the bow. They looked like dragons, like the outlined silhouettes of Nightmares and Nadders and Zipplebacks soaring together in a blazing herd.

"What was Aunt Valka like? Was she, like, a great warrior like you too?" He'd asked hesitantly, his mum always got that awful dampness in her eyes whenever she spoke of her passed-on sister.

"Valka wasn't much of a fighter, no," His mum shook her head, gazing deep into the cackling hearth, "She had a tender heart on her, wore it on her sleeve night and day, and it made her... different, but she didn't care," A smile crawled across her face, mirthful and nostalgic, "She was stubborn and her kindness did not mean weakness, remember that, Lout, It's not weak to be kind,"

I'm sorry, mum. I forgot. He made me forget. I'm sorry, I remember now.

The memory comes to an end, his mother's fire-lit figure swimming from his mind as he focuses his eyes back onto Valka's lithe fingers as they pin the bandages down and he remembers that bow for the first time in years. A grief fills him when he remembers what fate that great weapon met, snapped in two by hateful hands and thrown to the hungry hearth as his father spat she was weak, like her sister, they're both dead because they were weak!

Snotlout wants to apologize to Valka but then he'll have to explain the soft memory of his mum's sad eyes and the angry memory of his dad's bared teeth. The spitting embers as wood is consumed, as a relic is ruined in the flames.

"Were you surprised... When you found out?" He says instead and it's a question that's been brewing in his head for years.

Valka leans back onto her calves and gives him a confused look, tilting her head as she glides a hand along Hookfang's snout.

"Found out about what?"

"About-" He swallows firmly, ridding himself of the swollen lump in his throat, "-about my mum, your sister... Where you surprised- no, not surprised but... Shocked? When you found out how she... How she died?"

The question leaves the air thick and suspenseful; it leaves his chest tight (or maybe that's the anxiety because he's never talked to Valka about how his mum died and this feels like forbidden territory). He doesn't want to upset her but there are questions, fears, in his head that need to be answered because they're keeping him up at night.

Valka opens her mouth then closes it again, voice lost and words unwilling. Instead, she worries her lower lip and turns her gaze to the floor, looking between the wood panelling as of it holds the answer she needs. He doesn't rush her, Snotlout understands it's an awful question to answer, his stomach always goes in knots whenever Hiccup or Eret try to push him into talking about things. They don't force him, of course, but they believe it'll help with that heaviness on his chest. Snotlout can't say he agrees with them but he plays along now and again.

"I... I wasn't... Expectin' to see her again," Valka starts slowly, "when I left Berk, I had no intentions of returnin' so I had already mourned her, in a way, but... But I had hoped she'd live on happily, without me causing trouble for her to get me out of,"

A breathy chuckle comes from her and her eyes are sad too, but they aren't cold like how his mum's used to get, no, they still have that dragon-fire warmth. He's glad about that. Valka rubs her hands along her thighs and she gives him a kind smile that is the mirror image of his mother's. It leaves his heart swollen and aching.

"When Stoick told me... I wasn't as... Shocked as I should have been, but it was still a blow to the heart, she was my big sister, the person I admired and went to when I was scared," Valka speaks softly, as if she's lost in a distant memory, "It's terrible bein' the one left behind,"

He nods his head in agreement because, yes, it is. There is no greater loss than being the one left alive, being the other half who escaped the flames. Scarred, ruined, but alive, not with them in those great halls, with that great music, drinking that great peace. Yes, it is lonely to be alive.

"Your mother was a brave woman and I see that same braveness in you too," Valka extends a hand and touches her fingers to his chest, over the place that homes his heart, and he feels a swell of pride in that.

"But I also see the same sadness she had," She brings her hand up and her touch ghosts under his eye.

He inhales sharply and turns from her touch, feeling ashamed because he hates it when people see the things he tries to hide most. It leaves him vulnerable and weak, naked and defenceless; they can touch him where it hurts most, they can see all that foulness, they can expose him for the rotten thing that he is.

But she's right. Sometimes he'll catch his reflection and he never really sees himself. He either sees the sorrow-blue of his mother's eyes or the jaded-wrath of his father's face. He never sees himself; he doesn't quite know who he is.

"I see it too," He admits quietly, eyes stuck on the floor where he had struck, the wood bent and splintered, cratered, and there is something inside him that says you shouldn't have been able to do that, you shouldn't be that strong, something is wrong with you, something is festering inside of you and it's A N G R Y.

"It doesn't make you weak, Snotlout, that sadness," She says and he looks up at her from beneath his brow, jaw clenched as he tries to resit the urge to rip off his bandages and scratch feverishly at his wounds, "A weak person wouldn't have been able to survive all those years with what he was doing to you,"

Ten years he's been torturing you, Hiccup's voice cuts in suddenly in his head, how are you still alive, Lout?

His reply to that had been dismissive and mumbled, but in his head, he was saying I don't know, I don't think I am alive. I think my body refuses to die, but inside I'm rotting, I'm supposed to be dead but I'm not, my body won't allow it.

Gathering his words, gathering his confidence, Snotlout straightens his back and sighs harshly.

"But it's been two years since he left, since he last took me into the woods, and I still feel... like an open wound, you know?" He starts quietly, the scarred skin beneath his tunic reacting to his words like they understand and he tries to not to fidget at the crawling feeling that spreads across his torso. It makes his chest tighter, the itching feeling that drives him to do something rash, violent, mad, so it will all stop.

"Shouldn't I be better by now? Shouldn't I be normal? Fuck, I think- No, I know I've gotten worse since he left and it doesn't make sense!" His words begin to get frantic as he speaks more, as he pours his heart out to someone who might be able to help, and his eyes sting with tears because he's so frustrated, so confused, so angry.

A delirious haze falls over him and he starts babbling and crying and yelling, begging it all to go away as he brings his hands to the side of his head, gripping at his hair and pulling painfully. Usually the pain would ease him, as morbid as that sounds, but he is so mad with this mental fever that it doesn't even register and he can't see, his eyes heavy with tears that fall and never stop falling.

"I don't want to feel like this anymore! I want it to stop!" Snotlout begs in a shallow breath, voice loud in his ears and echoing, a howl in the empty night, and his chest feels tight and heavy, it's full of that foulness and it's crushing his lungs. It's happening, it's all going wrong and he can't stop it, he can't even breathe, how can he stop it if he can't breathe?!

He barely feels the arms that encircle him, hardly hears the soothing voice, the chittering purr, the easing rumble. He's stuck in his head, in his loud and sick head, and the waves of impeding doom that wash over him are sending his heart mad, everything is going too fast yet not fast enough, he want's it all to be over. Snotlout tugs at his hair, pants like a rabid beast amongst the keens and indecipherable begging, shivers and shakes. He feels like he's dying.

"Yer alright, my dear boy, yer alright," The gentle voice reassures and he almost believes it.

Hands cradle his face and they are so soft, so kind, they can't be his hands, his hands were so hard, so cruel. They come for him in the night, and they come with a grinning evil that laughs like a bag full of bones, hallow and wrong. But these wind-touched hands, these love-soaked fingers, they won't laugh or claw or hurt, they only hold with a great tenderness that has felled beasts. They swipe away the tumbling tears and ease the furrows from his brow, a face presses against his scalp and he feels a kiss being placed there, a kind whisper ghosting through his hair.

Snotlout, unknowingly, rocks back and forth in Valka's arms like a child during a storm, tear-stained and afraid and confused, believing that this is the end of everything.

Slowly, surely, the haze begins to lift and Snotlout is free from the gross confines of his head. His heartbeat eases to a loud but easing beat that thrums in his ears and he can feel his lungs expand with each breath he takes, no long constricting beneath an invisible weight. The world around him comes back to view and he's met with wide, draconic eyes that stared fearfully into his, Hookfang lets out an uncharacteristic whimper as he bumps his head against Snotlout's heaving chest.

Snotlout breathing now, Snotlout okay, coos Pain as she scuttles along his neck and Hookfang snarls weakly at her, rumbling I know, I've seen before, I know Snotlout okay, I know. But it's still scary. That part goes unsaid.

"I'm okay, Fang, It's-" Snotlout tries to swallow the panting breaths, tries to slow his breathing, "It's over now,"

The feeling of hands carding gently through his hair helps the tightness in his throat to loosen and the stiffness in his bones to lax, it's a familiar gesture that Eret always finds himself doing when they're together. But these are hands are small and soft, while Eret's are big and rough. These hands are Valka's and they are just as welcomed as Eret's.

"How about we go for a flight?" Valka encourages as she stands on her feet, glancing up to the Storm-Cutter who watches from above before looking back down to him, "The sky is cool tonight and Me and Cloudjumper wouldn't mind the company,"

Snotlout thinks for a moment before he nods and easily lifts himself up, rolling his shoulders and neck to relive the tension pent up in his muscles.

"Alright," Is all he says and Valka beams down at him as she steps onto Cloudjumper's extended claw, her partner lifting her up through the skylight.

Hookfang too readies himself and briefly looks begrudgingly to the purple Terror perched on top of his left horn, her wings spread smugly and claws flexing excitedly. He doesn't bother saddling up, he's gone without one before so many times that at this point, he finds it almost easier to fly bareback. It feels more free. With a calm sigh, he clambers expertly onto Hookfang's lowered neck and looks up into the dark night, at the waxing moon, at the winking stars.

He closes his eyes and takes to the sky.

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THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READY! YOU'RE A BEAUTIFUL BITCH/BASTARD AND I HOPE YOU GET LAID VERY SOON (if you're of age, of course)

#snotlout whump #Snotlout Jorgenson #Snotlout #eretlout #eret x snotlout #httyd fanfiction #httyd #valka

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duvetsandpillows · 4 years

Text

Lewis Hamilton Fluffy A-Z

A = Attractive: what do they find attractive about the other?

Your voice. Your accent is the most beautiful thing in the world. He loves listening to you talk and will stay on the phone to you all night just to hear you talk and occasionally singing to yourself.

B = Baby: do they want a family? why/why not?

You had a little baby girl when you and Lewis had started dating. The father had abandonded you and you were worried that Lewis would get scared off but Lewis fell in love with her immediately and vowed to be the best father figure he could to her. You two had discussed having a baby together and found out just before your one year anniversary that you were pregnant.

C = Cuddle: how do they cuddle?

Lewis loves cuddling with you. He's such a busy man that when he has the time to cuddle he will make the most of it. He had the habit of while talking to people he would stand behind you and wrap his arms around your shoudlers, pressing the occasional kiss to the side of your head if you didn't have much to say in the conversation.

D = Dates: what are dates with them like?

Lewis likes to make dates meaninful. They aren't usually extravagant but they are always perfect to you. He loves taking you along to race weekends as much as possible and would always take you out somewhere in every country you visit. Whether it's going out to dinner or a walk across the beach with Roscoe, the two of you enjoyed spending the time you got together.

E = Everything: “you are my ____” (e.g my life, my world…)

You are my flame.

F = Feelings: when did they know they were falling in love?

After your fifth date Lewis drove you home and walked you to your door. You invited him in for a coffee and he happily accepted. The two of you were chatting on the sofa, he looked at you as you spoke about your childhood, a smile growing larger as you spoke. "What is it?" you asked placing your mug on the sidetable. "It's nothing... I just-" He took his hand in yours, placing his other hand atop of yours. "The last few weeks have been amazing and I don't think I ever want to loose you. I wanted to as you if... well if-" You put your other hand ontop of his and smiled. "Is the Lewis Hamilton nervous?" His cheeks began to turn a light shade of pink. "I would love the honour of being your girlfriend."

G = Gentle: are they gentle? If so, how?

Lewis is always gentle with you nut not too gentle. He knows you aren't made of glass and don't like being treated like a china doll. You two liked to play fight together and you've been trying to teach him some Jiu-Jitsu as you'd learnt it growing up but it usually ended up with him giving yp and insiting on you giving a million cuddles.

H = Hand/Hold: how do they like to hold? how do they like to hold hands?

Lewis liked holding your hand in public because he wants everyone to know you are his. He would always give your hand a squeeze and rub his thumb across your hand when there are large crowss of fans around. He knows you struggled a little but with all the attention and were slowly getting used to it and wanting to help you through it.

I = Impression: first impression/s

He first met you in the park. You were walking your dog and Lewis spotted you standing under a tree as your dog ran acround the playing with a tennis ball you had brought. Roscoe bolted over to your dog, causing Lewis to smile, giving him an excuse to talk to you.

"It's like they've always known of each other." he said flashing a small smile. The two of you chatted for a while and Lewis thought you were the most interesting person he had met. When you said you had to go he made sure to get your number and a couple of days later asked you out on a date.

J = Joker: are they into pulling pranks?

You two aren't much for pranks but were always making each other laugh with jokes or messing about and being silly.

K = Kisses: how do they kiss?

Lewis always gives you the most passionate kisses. If you're in public he dials it back a little but always makes sure his kisses show you how much he loves you. When you're sad he always presses gentle kisses all over you face, it always helped calm you down and it may not fix what was happening you would know that you aren't on your own.

L = Love: who says I love you first?

Both of you. Lewis had brought you along to the Mercedes christmas party and it ended up with the two of you getting pretty drunk. When the taxi dropped you home Lewis carried you up to his apartment saying 'a princess shouldn't have to walk'. Once you took your makeup off and changed into a pair of his boxers and t-shirt you walked into the bedroom to see him sitting on the end of the bed staring at you. He reached out and pulled you towards him so you were sat in his lap. You ran your fingers through his hair as he pressed kisses up your neck until he reached your lips.

"I love you," the two of you said in sync as you pulled away before you both were in a fit of giggles.

M = Memory: their favourite moment together

You'd decided on having a home birth. After the midwife had cleaned your daughter up and passed her back to you Lewis went out the room and came back in with your older daughter. He sat the two of them on the side of the bed and placed her on his leg facing the baby.

"This is your little sister." The two of you watched as she reached out and gently held her hand, staring at her in complete adoration. You passed her over and Lewis helped your daughter hold her, making sure her nack was being supported properly. Tears began to fill your eyes as your daughter whispered 'I love you'. You two couldn't have asked for a more perfect moment.

N = Nickel: do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?

Lewis couldn't help but spoiling on you. It wasn't always extravagant gifts but if he would see something that reminded him of you he couldn't help but get it for you. He also couldn't help but spoil your daughters, they had the biggest wardrobes and even did a kids line for his collaboration with Tommy Hilfiger.

O = Orange: what colour reminds them of their other half?

The whole rainbow. You loved colour, your house and wardrobe was vibrant and Lewis loved it. He could look at any colour and it could remind him of you. Seeing bright green trees, a beautiful red dress or a painting of a lake would always bring his toughts back to you and you showed him how to appreciate every colour no matter how 'boring' other people find them.

P = Pet names: what pet names do they use?

Beautiful, sweetheart, my hero

Q = Quaint: what is their favourite non-modern thing?

You loved helping him design clothes. He would always come to you with first drafts and asks for your opinion. You two would sit at the table for hours until half the room is covered in sketches and bits of fabric you had picked up to try and make a prototype.

R = Rainy Day: what do they like to do on a rainy day?

You two like to go out for walks. Letting the dogs run around and play together while your daughters play in puddles. When you get home one of you will wash the dogs off while the other gives your daughters a bath. Then you'll all cuddle up on the sofa watching a movie together, eating a takeaway.

S = Sad: how do they cheer themselves/each other up

Lewis usually comes to you fairly quickly when he's upset. You have a very level head and would always be able to find the best way to help his situation. If he's feeling down and not too sure why your daughters will give him lots of cuddles and get him to play a game with him. They were his best distraction and would remind him that no matter how tough it is right now his family is there for him and how lucky he is to have all of you.

T = Talking: what do they love to talk about?

You two talk about everything. Human rights and what's happening in the world at the moment and how you can help, race weekends, tv shows your obessed with, world politics. You two loved to have intense discussions about world issues and Lewis loved how passionate you are about them and how badly you want to help. Even when you made some questionable words to another driver whose comments royally pissed you off.

U = Unencumbered: What helps them relax?

Spending time with your daughters. After a race weekend he loved to come home and get engulfed in cuddles. he will always make sure to spend the whole evening with the three of you with no distractions. Having a teddy bear tea party, playing dress up and then winding down with a movie which usually ended up with you all falling asleep on the sofa together.

V = Vaunt: what do they like to show off? What are they proud of?

Lewis isn't one to show off anymore. He likes to keep most of his life private, expecially his daughters. He would post the occasional picture and would bring them along to race weekends but doesn't want them in the spotlight. He mostly just shows off his projects that he's been working on. he would show you off sometimes, although always making sure he has your permission first, he wants everyone to know how lucky he is to have you and how stunning and intelligent you are.

W = Wedding: when, how, where do they propose?

Lewis took all four of you away for your birthday to a small private island so you could have some privacy and enjoy your holiday. One evening you were all sat int he beach, building sandcastles. You were lying on a towel as Lewis and the girls were trying to build a sandcastle resembling the disney land castle (although it was quite wonky). Lewis called you over to come take a proper look, your eldest daughter pulling your arms to speed you up.

"Mummy look in the door we found a surprise!" You knelt down and and reached your arm in, pulling out a small box. You opened it up to reveal a small diamond ring.

"Lewis what-?" You turned around to see him on one knee, daughters either side of him, your eldest flashing the biggest smile in the world, looking as if she was about to burst.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N) everyday you fill my life with pure joy. Every since we met you've always made sure I have a smile of my face and have always been there for me no matter what. Will you do me the honour of marrying me?" You burst into tears and nodded your head before flinging yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him tight. The two of you shared a passionate kiss and he slid the ring on your finger while your daughters were cheering in the background.

X = Xylophone: What’s their song?

Run the World - Beyoncé

Y = You’re the ___ to my ___ (e.g the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

You’re the light to my life.

Z = Zebra: if they wanted a pet, what pet would they get?

Lewis obviously has Roscoe and you have your dog too. You wanted to get a cat but it was a work in progress as Lewis said it was a mad house already but he decided to surprise you for christmas with one after the girls hadn't stopped asking him for once since September.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one fanfic #formula 1 one shot #formula one imagine #fluffy a-z #fluffy a z

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