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sporadicthingcollection · 1 year ago

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Kiss, Marry, Kill: Part 2/2 (LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: In which Buggy saves your bacon and you continue to lie to yourself. Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: Explicit. Word Count: ~2.3k (of 5.3k) Warnings: Canon-typical violence, sexual fantasies, needles.

A/N: I was going to wait a few days to post this, build some anticipation, but y'all thirsty and I am a woman of the people.

---

Does Buggy feel a twinge of regret as he hauls ass out of Arlong Park? Sure, but not out of any sense of honor or decency or whatever. He just wishes he could have seen your lovely face one last time.

And he must have racked up some good karma recently, because he does indeed see your lovely face. It's curled up in a snarl as a fishman bears down upon you, but it's hot in a warrior princess kind of way.

You throw a right hook that collides with the fishman’s jaw, but no dice. He belts you right in the mouth. It lays you flat, but you take it like a champ and pop right back up.

He hates the idea of such a pretty face being marred in such an unfair fight. So he lends a hand.

Detaching said hand, he sends it floating toward the scuffle. A hard pinch on the ass throws the fishman off guard with a yelp.

You see the opening and slam him across the face once, twice, a third time. He collapses to the side. You waste no time jumping atop him, straddling his chest as you wallop his face into hamburger.

Still kinda hot.

Satisfied that he’s unconscious, you climb to your feet, resting your hands on your hips as you catch your breath. You run a hand through your hair, mussing it in a most handsome way.

Buggy saunters up behind you. Not particularly quietly, but you’re so winded you must not notice. He hovers his chin right over your shoulder. “Boo.”

You screech. Loudly. And whirl around and throw a haymaker that he only just catches with his remaining hand.

“Aw, c’mon,” he grumbles. “That any way to treat your coffee soulmate?”

You blink at him. “When’d you— How— What?”

He recalls his other hand. It reattaches with a little flourish. “Saved your life, babe. You're welcome.”

You look around, then frown. You give his chest a weak shove and stumble away. “I gotta… gotta find Usopp…!”

“Up-bup-bup. Not so fast.” He snags you by the back of the shirt and pulls you back. You whine in protest. "You owe me, Miss Sawbones.”

You scowl at him. “I didn’t ask for help.”

“No, but you got it. Which means…” He taps the tip of your nose. “You.” Tap. “Owe.” Tap. “Me.”

“Fine. Whatever. Cash it in later when I’m not in a rush.” You try to run again, and again he snatches you. “What’s your problem?!”

“My problem is that, if everything comes up Buggy, I’m never going to see you shitheels again.” He leans in close enough for his nose to bump yours. “But I don't like having unfinished business.”

Your eyes are so hot that steam might as well be coming out of your ears. “Just tell me what you want and fuck off.”

Finally, just what he wanted to hear. But what to ask for? You most certainly don't have money. And the map's a wash — even if you could get it, all your little friends would beat him black and blue. No, this has to be something that will get under your skin. Pull your pigtails a little. Hurt your pride.

Like a ray of divine inspiration, it hits him. He can't help but grin as he steps towards you. You take a step back. He matches it. Another step. Another. He backs you right into a tree.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing his finger down your jaw to tip your chin up. He pulls out his best imitation of that damn cook. "Give us a kiss, love."

Your face screws up in disgust. You slap his hand and try to jump away, only for him to grab your arm. Swinging you back around, he pulls you flush against him, his free hand on your waist. He revels in your warmth. He missed his body so much.

He puckers his lips. “C'mon, just a little smooch. Won’t even use tongue.”

You yank your arm from his grip and stare up at him. Grabbing him by the collar, you jerk him downwards. He braces himself for a slap. Or maybe a punch. That seems more your style.

But then you yank him forwards and his lips collide with yours and every joint, every tendon, every inch of sinew in his body locks up. It's all he can do not to topple into a thousand parts and pieces.

He's in shock. He never freezes. Not in the middle of a performance, not in the middle of a fight, and certainly not in the process of sweet talking a kiss out of a pretty little thing.

And yet, here he barely stands. Probably because it’s none of those things — there's no one around, the fight's over, and you're not a pretty little thing. You're a very beautiful grown woman.

His heart flutters against his ribs like a starved hummingbird barred from a flower. He wants more. He wants everything. He wants you.

Oh, this isn't good. It's never good when he catches feelings. Especially not this quickly. Never ends well for him.

...but maybe this time...

You pull away with a pop, but your grip on his waistcoat stays strong. Your mouth remains open, and you waggle your lower jaw, running your lip along your bottom teeth. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips.

He wants to lick them too.

You let out a yip as he swings you down and dips you low, one hand on your neck and the other hooked under your leg. You gaze up at him with wide eyes, twinkling like mischievous little stars.

He dives in for the encore before he can lock up again. Somewhere, some idiot sets off fireworks.

Oh, what a kiss. It’s the kind of kiss they write songs about. The kind that breaks fairy tale curses and turns frogs into princes. The kind that lonely sailors dream of, wishing on shooting stars for someone to love. Someone to laugh with, argue with, cry with, share a treasure with, share a bunk with, share a crown with. Someone to be his and his alone.

And then he feels it. A little nudge against his lips. He pulls away in surprise. “So much for no tongue.”

Smears of red lipstick and flakes of white greasepaint coat your lips. You lick them anyways. “I never agreed to that.” You throw your arms around his neck and force your way inside his mouth.

Now it's the sort of kiss that haunts the dreams of all men. Fiery. Slick. Dexterous. You stroke his teeth and nip his lips and fill his mouth in due measure. He can barely keep up.

The images come unbidden. You, lying across his bed, eyeing him like a tigress eyes her meal. Him, ripping your shirt off to get at those delicious breasts. You, bouncing on his cock, moaning like a whore. Him, flipping you over to fuck you more efficiently. You, begging and whining as you hit your peak. Him, climaxing so hard he sees lightning. You, resting your head against his chest as you drift off to sleep. Him, pulling you closer and burying his face in your hair and whispering sweet little things that you won’t remember—

God damn, are all your kisses like this? Is this what you treat every man to? A lightning strike, a cool plunge, a searing brand, all in one? What kind of devil did you make a deal with to be so beguiling?

His head spins like a carousel as you pull away, from either shock or oxygen deprivation. Probably both.

Even more old paint covers your face. And you still don’t care. Your chest heaves and your gaze burns as you lick your chops.

While his brain processes what just happened, his poor, stupid heart takes the wheel and shoots its shot. “Wanna come with?” he rasps.

The smolder in your eyes snuffs out and your brows scrunch. “Huh?”

“Ditch the punks. Join up with me. It'll be great."

You blink a few times, eyes darting around. “Why?”

Why? A kiss like that and you’re asking why? “Group of weirdos like us could always use haircuts.”

That marvelous sound leaves your lips. First that glorious snnnrrrk and then that clattery laughter. Your face lights up with glee, your pretty teeth on full display. “Sell me on it.”

That’s a good sign. “Your own cabin. An operating theater. More treasure than you can carry and the best barber chair it can buy.”

Your smile grows. You slip a finger below his chin as you gaze up through your eyelashes. “Sweeten the pot.”

Oh, that’s a dangerous look. His mouth starts writing checks his ego certainly won’t let him cash. “Your own act. Your name in lights. And you can kiss me like that whenever you want."

Those eyes turn downright smoky. You say in a low, low voice, "Just kiss you?"

He almost drops you. All the blood rushing to his cheeks stops dead in his arteries. Then it waterfalls all the way back down.

He jerks you upwards and presses his lips to your ear. “I’ll screw you to the wall every night and eat your cunt like a wild dog every morning. How’s that sound?”

A little hiccup of a gasp escapes you. “Sounds— Sounds good to me, Captain.”

He's ready to throw you over his shoulder like a sack of flour when something whistles through the air above him. He looks up. Pain explodes across his jaw, popping his head off and sending the rest of him sprawling.

It takes him a moment to shake the stars out of his eyes and get the blood back where it belongs. The sniper kid stands a few yards away, quaking in his boots as he loads up his slingshot. Next to him, you scramble to your feet, clutching your makeup-smeared hand.

"Nice timing," you say to Usopp. You pat his shoulder, leaving a streak of white.

“Don’t mention it.” He swallows. "What do we do about him?”

“Iunno. Either kill him or let him buzz off.” You grip your wrist. “Yeow, that hurt…”

Buggy recalls his head to his neck and gives it a good shake. How dare you? How dare you use him like that? Give him feelings only to play with them? What kind of heartless bitch are you?

He's got quite the eloquent insult prepared, but it vanishes as soon as his mouth catches up to his thoughts. “You...!”

He launches his fist at you, but the kid fires off a round from his slingshot. Buggy yelps as a dozen pinpoints of pain pierce his palm, and he recalls it back. There are, in fact, a dozen pins buried deep in his hand. Ow.

He looks up, but the kid is speeding away. You're close behind, but you do glance back. He swears he sees a glint of remorse in your dark eyes, but you're gone moments after.

Alone. Again. After getting his emotions kicked around like a naughty puppy.

Fuck this. Fuck Rubber Boy. Fuck the sniper kid.

And, most of all, fuck you.

—-

You're no good at art, but you're the only person around here with steady hands, a sterile needle, and a willingness to inflict pain. Thus, redoing Nami's tattoo falls to you.

"So how was it?" she asks.

You're so focused on tracing the design onto her arm that you almost don't respond. "Not too bad, if I do say so myself. Might have to adjust the angle."

"Not that. The other thing."

The tangerine connects to the tangerine leaf. The tangerine leaf connects to the pinwheel spoke. “Yes. Of course. The other thing.”

“Heard you kissed the clown.”

The pinwheel spoke connects to the other spoke aaaand the pen slips from your fingers. Fortunately for you, it doesn’t screw up your careful tracing. “We’re gonna need a new sniper when I’m done keelhauling the old one.”

Nami laughs. It’s not bitter anymore, which you’re thankful for. Girl’s been through a lot. “C’mon, how was it?”

You scoff. “Sudden. Sloppy. Tasted like greasepaint and self-loathing.”

You leave out that you actually like all that. Surprise. Spit. Theatrics and desperation. What can you say? You’re a dumb bitch with a bad taste for pathetic men. You accepted this about yourself a long, long time ago.

If Nami picks up on your deception, she doesn’t let it show. “Thanks for taking one for the team, doc.”

Taking one for the team. Yeah. That’s what it was. A distraction. A diversion. You didn’t manipulate a madman’s feelings for you. He didn’t read you like a giant neon sign. Nor did you feel anything in that kiss. Not in any of them.

Certainly not the first time — that was impulse. Nor the second time — that one was thrust upon you. And the third time — brain was preoccupied with stalling for time so your cooch took over for a moment.

A moment that almost led to you abandoning your friends for a psycho, your conscience reminds you.

You shake the guilt off. “I’m not a doctor,” you mutter, “and let us never speak of this again.”

You swear she stares right into your soul. That she knows what you’ve done. But she nods. “Speak about what?”

It takes a few hours, a few curses, and a few tears, but the tattoo comes out great, if you do say so yourself.

And the entire time, you’re distracted by thoughts of a psycho with a very persuasive tongue.

---

Never had you on my mind

Now you're there all the time

Never knew what I missed until I I kissed ya

---

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#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece live action #reader insert #x reader #emberly writes

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crusty-chronicles · 6 months ago

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The Moon and Sun (Big Sib reader x Gon/Killua)

Ch 17: Countdown part 2

Synopsis: Welcome back ladies and gentlemen. Shall we continue where we left off?

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

You stood in the center of a clearing, waiting for the slightest hint of movement. All of your five senses tuned in to your environment. The smallest change of even the direction of the wind would be enough to tip you off.

A boost off of the grass.

You blocked a punch with your right arm. The small assassin stared with wide eyes. A curse of ‘Damn’ leaving him before you gripped him by the shirt and flung him in the other direction. He didn't have a chance to orient himself properly. His back colliding with a tree, effectively snapping it in half from how hard you threw him.

“Fast, but still not fast enough!” You called out.

You redirected your attention at a disturbance in the debris. From the dust kicked up came the boy in green. He made a dash forward, preparing to strike you. In what must've been the last second, he changed his attack. He jumped back on his hands and kicked as hard as he could towards your stomach.

“You won't get very far with cheap tricks.” You scolded before grabbing his ankle.

He tried to use his other leg to swing, but you stopped it easily. Using the new leverage, you spun in a circle to gain momentum before sending him flying upwards.

He gave a cry of surprise that quickly became annoyance. You were just tossing them around like footballs. Effortlessly.

From behind you Killua rebounded. Instead of attacking, he used his Echo Rhythm in the hopes it would disorient you. Doing laps around you as fast as he could. Yet somehow your eyes managed to linger on the real him.

If there's no opening, make one! Right????

There was a shout from above that startled you. Less than a fraction of a second you'd looked away. But it was enough. He lunged forward.

In the split second you glanced up, you saw Gon punch upward. A shockwave sending him straight for you. He used his physical strength to propel himself down.

They were coming in from both sides. There was no way you'd be able to avoid them both. Just when they were about to touch you, you vanished. Both of them looking at the blank space with surprise that quickly turned into panic. They were about to collide with each other. Killua twisted his body to the left. Gon to the right. Blows barely skirting around the other.

They recovered from the confusion and stood back to back. Waiting anxiously for any sign of you. A shadow from the corner of their eye. But it was too late. A sharp pain resonating on the sides of their skulls.

You had slammed their heads together. You gave a slight wince seeing them fall over and cradle the spot that hurt. A beeping from your pocket signaled that today's session was over.

“Alright. Five minutes is up.”

They gave sounds of protests as they sat up.

“We almost had you that time!” Gon exclaimed. He saw you this time. His reaction time was just slow.

“Yeah, let's go again! I didn't even have time to break a sweat!” Killua agreed.

Pure determination in their eyes. They were getting better, but another round would probably drain them. They'd be out of commission for a week.

“You two know the rules. One match a day. Then it's sensory training. Then it's meditation.”

“We know, we know. It's hearing today right?” Killua complained.

“Sulk all you want but it's a helpful skill. I picked up on your first attack because of it.” You responded.

He stuck his tongue out at you.

“Okay Dumbo. And did you really have to throw me that hard?”

Truthfully, you didn't mean to use that much force. It was a knee jerk response-and a very light one at that.

“You think that's hard? I could've sent you at least 35 meters easy. Hell, I almost sent Gon into orbit.”

“Yeah but he didn't get tossed through a tree.”

“I'd rather be tossed through a tree than stuck all the way up there,” Gon argued.

“Let's test it out then!”

“You're on! I'm gonna send you flying!”

“You wish!”

You tried to hide a smile as they bickered. It was two weeks ago when you first started their training.

You took baby steps with the boys. Starting off with something they were familiar with: speed training. The plan was to build up their physical strength before moving onto aura. Well, Killua would be improving his nen. Gon would just have to adapt once Knuckle’s APR expired.

It took them five days to master speed training. Both of them being quick enough to dodge every pebble you flicked their way. It improved their stamina drastically. Actual speed, not so much. If you just had the time, you would've been able to teach them properly. Right now you were skipping a few steps. But if you knew anything about these boys, it was that they were quick learners.

You were combining lessons three and four of your clan's methods. Sensory training was meant to enhance sight, smell, hearing, touch, and taste. The five senses. Everyday, one sense would be taken away. The other four would be used to figure out the scenario. It makes the individual more perceptive to their surroundings. A slight change could be picked out easily. Today the boys’ hearing would be taken away.

Combat training was meant to gain experience. There were two stages to this lesson: physical strength and nen strength. However, no matter which stage the student was in, they had to challenge someone undoubtedly stronger than them and fight them full force. Just until they became the same level as their teacher, or close enough to them. The boys were currently on the first stage.

Usually to advance, they would actually have to land one direct hit on you. But since you were pressed for time, you had to alter the condition.

“If you can get me to use my nen within five minutes, we'll move onto the next level.” You informed.

“What's the next level?” Gon asked.

“Actually fighting with your abilities against mine. Gon, you should be able to keep up. If anything, you'll probably end up getting stronger than me.” you explained.

It really was a blessing in disguise Knuckle took away his nen. His physical strength would increase leagues than what it was. If he could keep up with you at your best, for sure he'd beat you if nen was involved.

“Really!?!” He beamed up at you with excitement.

“No fair.” Killua pouted.

“It's nothing personal. We need to stick to your strengths,” you reassured the small assassin.

“You're more calculated in fights. You like to analyze your enemy's moves. You know when you're outclassed and tend to flee if it's more favorable. Despite your upbringing, nen combat is what you excel at. It's easier for you to control and predict.

“Gon's the opposite. Physical combat comes easier to him. His impulsive movements make for great offense. He charges right in, leading to the best surprise attacks. More or less, in a fight you'd be even. You'd probably outclass me in speed depending on how you applied your ability.”

“Faster and stronger than you? In just a month?” Killua questioned.

“In less than a year if we had the time. In a month, you might come close to overtaking me. In your respective categories that is. To fully max out on the categories you're weakest, it would take another six months.”

“What about seeing auras? Would either of us become as good as you at that?” Gon asked.

“You could probably do it now. That's baby stuff.”

“Hey!” The duo said in unison. Both equally as offended.

“Right, my bad. I mean it'll be easy. It's one of the first things I was taught…Then again, my eyes are pretty special. Who knows?”

Yup.

The boys still had quite a way to go.

—--------------------

Nights had become the hardest part of your routine. Everytime you closed your eyes you'd see him. You'd see her. If it was a particularly rough night, you'd see them. You haven't had this problem since Greed Island. The sleepless nights plagued by the worst your mind could come up with.

You used to stay up for days on end. Hoping when you finally closed your eyes, they'd stay shut. But you didn't exactly have the luxury of exhausting yourself right now. You couldn't afford to waste your energy. You had to be in top condition when the time came to face the ants.

The boys were experiencing a similar problem. Whether it was the stress of the situation or the pressure to get stronger, they were unable to sleep through the night. Often they'd wander into your room (where you sat on your bed, already awake thanks to tonight’s terror) and sit right next to you. It quickly became a habit.

Wait for the sun to come up, train, then take a nap out of pure exhaustion. The night would drag on while you waited for the next day to arrive. It wasn't healthy. However, tensions were too high to do anything else.

You had an idea though, of how to fix the problem.

“You've both earned a break,” you announced.

Both boys eyed you suspiciously.

“A break? Like right now?” Killua questioned.

You gave a nod.

“I don't think we can risk taking a break. We have to keep training. We need to get stronger.” Gon persisted.

You understood where he was coming from. But the harder he pushed himself, the less focused he'd be. It was only a matter of time before mental fatigue kicked in.

“You are getting stronger, but if you focus all your time training, you'll be exhausted when it's time to fight.” you explained.

“I know you want to keep going, but rest is important. You need to be in top shape both mentally and physically.”

The duo sat in quiet for a moment. Weighing the pros and cons of your offer. They looked to each other and nodded.

“Okay. What did you have in mind?”

—----------------------

The sand was warm under your feet.

You don't think you've ever been to the beach before. It was…nice. The air was saltier than you were expecting. And despite the sun beating down on you, it felt decently cool. There were more people than you were expecting, but you supposed you could tune them out.

You used to envy normal kids when you were little. Childhoods filled with amusement parks, aquariums, beaches, carnivals. An oblivious innocence to everything around them. You used to yearn for a piece of that normalcy. But the clan always came first.

Now you were actually here.

And there was nobody to stop you from enjoying it.

“Alright. Go, uh, go beach.” You ushered the boys forward.

“Go beach? You're like an alien who's never been to earth.” Killua teased.

“Hey!”

It wasn't your fault you didn't know what to do. Something something sand? Swimming? You'd figure it out. What mattered was that you were here to relax.

“Come on. Let's go before they figure out how to ‘beach.’” Gon laughed out, quickly pulling Killua away.

“Rats!!! You're both little rats!” You shouted after them.

They made a break for the water. Loading up the squirt guns they brought and splashing each other. You donned a pair of sunglasses and sat back. As long as they didn't drown each other. The little goblins. Maybe you could finally take a decent nap while they fooled around.

From where you sat, they actually looked like kids. They looked their age. It made you smile seeing how carefree they were. The stress of training long forgotten. And when Killua put Gon in a headlock for spraying his face, you had to stifle a laugh. You could sense nothing but content from the both of them.

You wished it could've been like this all the time. Maybe it would if things turned out okay.

“Kids are such a handful.”

You jumped at the sound of a voice next to you. It's what you get for letting your guard down, you supposed. You looked up and saw a woman in her thirties if you had to guess. She stared towards the ocean fondly.

A mother.

It wouldn't hurt to engage in conversation. You were here to relax after all.

“No kidding,” you responded.

You held back a grimace seeing Gon break free from Killua and body slam him into the water.

“Are those your boys?” The woman questioned.

You hesitated to answer. Technically, they weren't. Not by blood, at least. But did you consider them yours? Without a doubt they were one of your own.

“Yeah, those are mine.”

“Really? They don't look like you. Adopted?”

“Kind of. I'm a temporary caretaker.” And before she could ask what you meant by that, you quickly changed the subject.

“Which one's yours?”

She pointed slightly to the left.

“The little girl with the sunhat.”

Sure enough, there was a kid hanging into a dolphin floaty. Laughing along with another small girl. They looked peaceful, unlike your two demons who were currently wrestling. The contrast was almost enough to make you laugh.

“I heard that girls were easier. Is that true?” You asked.

The woman gave a small hum in thought.

“I personally don't think there's a difference. I mean, we raise them and love them the same,” she started.

“They're both stressful as babies and toddlers. They both end up becoming moody teenagers. Sometimes they get upset because they don't understand the decisions you make. Sometimes they don't even know what they're feeling and lash out…Boy or girl, parenting isn't easy. It's full of struggles no matter what.”

You don't know why, but her words made you feel relieved. Maybe a part of you was worried you were doing something wrong. That you weren't fit to take care of the boys. Maybe it was nice to hear your emotions were valid and normal.

“That's good to know.” You said after a while.

The woman smiled kindly at you. Heat rising to your cheeks at the small gesture.

“Enjoy all the precious moments while they're little. They'll be grown up before you know it.”

You were completely unaware the boys had stopped their roughhousing. Glancing towards you to give you a wave before they noticed you were already with someone.

A woman who was way too close for comfort.

Gon sent a small glare her way. He didn't like the way that woman was so friendly with you. He certainly didn't like the way she was touching your arm. Why were you letting her? He'd never known you to be social. So willing to engage in conversation with a stranger. What could the two of you possibly be talking about?

“Gon?”

He snapped from his thoughts at the call of his name. He looked towards Killua who seemed equally as uncomfortable.

“I don't like this. She's being way too touchy,” he responded.

And you were being way too reciprocal.

“Right? I mean I don't mind if Y/n makes a friend, but that's not friendly. She's too close. She's practically leaning on them,” Killua agreed.

Normally they weren't so protective of you. But something had changed. Seeing their friend being used as a chimera weapon had done it. A combination of not wanting to get involved with more people and defending his honor.

You weren't supposed to be with her. You were supposed to be with Kite.

The question now was: how were they gonna get your attention?

—--------------------------

You'd heard the frantic splashing of water first. Followed by your name. You stopped mid conversation and used your eyes to scan around. Yet before you could fully analyze what was going on, there was another cry of your name.

“Y/n! Help! Gon's drowning!”

You were in front of the duo in an instant. Using nen on your feet to stay above the water’s surface. Without wasting a second, you plunged your arm into the water and lifted Gon up. You expected him to be sputtering out water. Gasping for air. Struggling to breathe. Instead he stared back at you in bewilderment. Then excitement.

“You can walk on water!?!?”

It took you a second to process what was happening. Looking back and forth between him and Killua. The latter staring at you with equal shock.

No panic from either of them.

They duped you.

You promptly dropped Gon back into the water. Crouching down right after and grabbing the both of them by their cheek.

“How dare you! What possible reason could you have for scaring me?!?! You shouldn't play around like that!!!”

They both mumbled out a ‘sorry big sib.’

“Sorry’s not good enough! Explain yourselves!”

It was Killua who broke first this time.

“Why were you letting that lady flirt with you?!? I thought you were a boy kisser.”

All your frustration vanished. You were left baffled and flustered instead. The term ‘boy kisser’ completely catching you off guard. You were getting too old for this.

“Shut up! You're a boy kisser. You like boys.”

It wasn't something you'd said out of seriousness. Just a way to get the boys to leave you alone. Yet the moment the words left your mouth, Killua's face went red.

“Nuh uh!” He waggled a finger in your face, trying to play his reaction off. He shouldn't have said anything because he knew that you knew. You could see him, even if you weren't trying.

The deceit in his aura.

Oh.

You didn't really know how to handle this. If you should even address it. Yet, you were already talking before your mind could catch up.

“Aw, sweetie. It's okay if you like boys.”

You realized you were digging your own grave as a choked sound left him. He looked between you and the boy in green, trying to gauge his reaction.

“Or girls! That works to! Or both! Both is an option too. Maybe neither?” you cringed with each word that left your mouth.

You were making things worse judging by how the small assassin hid behind his hands. There was gratitude in there, but it was mostly drowned out by embarrassment. Before you could open your mouth again, Gon spoke up.

“I don't think it matters. Like who you like, that doesn't change anything between us.” He flashed Killua a reassuring grin.

Atta boy.

“Oh look sand! We should go over there.” you quickly changed the subject. More for Killua's sake than yours.

The duo waded towards the shore with you walking next to them. It was quiet for a bit. And then-

“So are you a girl kisser?”

“I was not flirting with that woman!”

—--------------------------

Now this was what you were picturing when you offered to go to the beach. Sandcastles. Except much less chaotic. Did you know the sand had to be wet before building? No, no you did not. Did you think the structure would crumble if you poured a bucket of water over it? Also no.

Why was this so hard?

You let out a noise of frustration, attracting the attention of the boy in green. He offered to help you out, and because you had absolutely no idea what you were doing, you accepted. His strategy was similar to yours, except he actually wet the sand before building with it.

You did your best to sculpt the sand in a point. Hoping to give it that castle feel. Not even a second later the top collapsed in. You slapped a hand to your forehead.

“Yup. I'm cursed,” you muttered. Prompting a laugh from the boy next to you.

At least he was having fun.

You looked over to your right. There was a kid no older than five putting sand in a bucket. Only to dump it back out in a perfect castle shape. Then they'd used a little metal tool to make windows.

“That kid's cheating!” You pointed out.

Gon followed your line of sight. He tried to hide his amusement at what had you so upset.

“Right. I forgot they made tools for the sand. Maybe next time. But hey, ours isn't too bad.”

You redirected your attention to what looked like a mound of dirt with indents. Despite being a complete failure, a part of you swelled with pride. You made that. And there would be time to improve later anyways.

“What is that? A mud hut?” Killua teased.

You were about to give a rebuttal, but it died in your throat seeing what was behind him. An actual castle with so much detail, it left you speechless. Even the little bricks were etched into the sand. And was that a moat!?!? The kid had talent, you'd give him that.

“How the heck did you do that?” You gestured to the castle behind him.

He beamed up at you before manipulating his hand to be razor sharp.

“I used my nails. Pretty cool, right?”

Pretty cool? It was spectacular. You didn't even think most adults could make something that detailed.

“Anyways, what went wrong with yours? Did you two even try?” He joked.

You feigned a glare at his words.

“Not all of us can change our hands at will. And you know what? You're not invited to the mud hut. Isn't that right munchkin?”

“Yup. In fact, we're raging war against your castle.” Gon played along, lifting up his water gun and aiming it towards the detailed structure.

Killua quickly stood in front of his castle. Using his body to shield it from any potential harm.

“You better not! It took me ten minutes to make!”

Okay, bragger much.

“Can't we just have a truce or something?” He tried to sway.

You pretended to give it some thought.

“50 percent of all your gold imports and we have a deal.”

“50 percent? My people will starve!”

Gon gave a warning shot, slightly missing the castle.

“Okay! Okay! We have a deal!”

You gave a small nod, telling Gon to stand down. The two of you watched as Killua started to build a little bridge. It took him no time at all to connect the structures, standing up right after and dusting himself off.

“There. We're allies.”

The difference between the two castles was almost enough to make you laugh. The mud hut standing strong against the palace. You were about to open your mouth to say something, but you quickly shut it seeing Gon light up at something in the distance.

“You two wait right here! I'll be right back!” He called out before running off.

He came back carrying something big over his head. Something that had…flippers????

“Is that a fricken turtle!?!? Put him back right now!” You scolded once you saw what it was.

He placed it down in front of you and Killua, holding it back by its shell.

“Are you scared?” He teased.

“It's a turtle why would I be-”

The turtle lunged its neck forward. Jaws open in an attempt to bite you.

“He just snapped at me!”

Gon leaned down to stare it in the eye.

“No! Bad turtle!”

Said creature hung its head down low. As if ashamed. Hunters and their damned animals. Of course it would play nice with him. Then again, you never were good with animals.

“Don't reprimand him! Just set him free!” you ordered.

“He probably senses your hostility. Maybe if you were nice to him he wouldn't wanna bite you.” Killua observed, though there was a mischievous glint in his eye that let you know he was messing with you.

“Senses my butt. That thing is just out for blood.” You huffed out.

Gon lifted up the turtle one more, holding it up right as he started talking.

“This guy is a leather back. And you see it's tail? Super short, right? Well that means it's actually a girl. She probably came to lay her eggs on shore.”

This was the most excited you've seen him in weeks. He was in his complete element when it came to nature. Most likely due to his upbringing. You supposed you could deal with this animal hating you, as long as he was happy.

“Let's put her down and see where she goes.” Killua suggested.

Gon set the turtle down and let it go. She shuffled back next to him for a second, surveying the beach for any threats. Then little by little she made her way forward. It took her about ten minutes to reach the spot she wanted. Using her back flippers to dig a sizeable hole in the sand. She stilled when she was done, presumably laying her eggs. Finally, she kicked the sand back in place and made her way back to the ocean.

But not before throwing a hiss your way as she passed you.

The boys stared in awe. You, not so much.

“I think we just witnessed a birth. Is that like, legally binding?” Killua asked.

You bonked the back of his head.

“Gremlin. Alright, let's give the little lady her space.” You ushered the boys away from her nest.

A few hours later, you found yourself being buried in the sand. A form of retaliation after you forbid the boys from going back in the water, not yet over the drowning prank they pulled. Plus, they'd gotten bored finding shells and giving them to you. All of which were currently in your pocket. You prayed they didn't crack under the pressure.

Your poor sunglasses were tossed to the side. By now your legs were completely covered. They wanted to move onto your torso. Pestering you to lay down so they could continue piling sand on.

“Just lay back.” Killua pushed you back lightly.

“No. You're gonna toss sand in my eyes. Those are my money makers.” You argued.

“We won't. I'll cover your eyes with my hand if that'll make you feel better,” Gon offered.

You were on the cusp of giving in before a beeping filled the air. All at once, the smiles left the boys’ faces. It was time. Somehow it’d slipped their minds. They'd gotten so caught up spending time with you that they forgot.

It was as if the life had been sucked out of them. Reality once again crashing down. It was nice to just be kids for a moment. To have a simple life. But they had a responsibility to fulfill. You had a responsibility.

They avoided your gaze as you got ready to leave. Truly, they tried to talk you out of it the first week. They didn't like you going over there and coming back injured. And they certainly never hid the way they felt about it. But you were nothing if not true to your word. And they knew that.

“I'm sorry. I'll be home soon okay. If you want-” you started but were quickly cut off.

“We'll be fine. Don't worry about us.” Killua dismissed.

“Go do what you have to do.” Gon added.

You sent them an apologetic look before you left.

—-------------------

You stood in front of the metal door anxiously. It felt reminiscent of your first time seeing it. You didn't know why you were so nervous. You've been coming here everyday to see him. Maybe a part of you was scared something changed. For better or for worse.

You unlocked the door and pushed it open. With bated breath, you took a step forward. You could feel the agony and malice return. A sickly feeling you became familiar with. It meant nothing had changed. Your routine would continue on to the next day.

You approached ‘Kite' slowly. Right before you entered his attack radius, you sat down. You promised the boys you wouldn't let him hit you anymore. Not since he'd broken your arm.

“I'd say having my leg broken was worse than my arm. Couldn't run for shit,” you said aloud.

You figured if he couldn't kick your ass everyday, the least you could do was stay and talk. You didn't want to leave him by himself. Even if he couldn't hear or sense you. You had no clue if you were helping him by doing this. If subconsciously he was listening.

You hoped he was.

That you were a useful distraction to the torment he was currently going through.

“We went to the beach today,” you started.

“The little ghouls pretended they were drowning because they thought some lady was flirting with me. Why that bothered them, I couldn't tell you. It pissed me off though. I made sure they weren't allowed near the water again.”

By now ‘Kite' was at the edge of his radius. Standing in front of you with jerky movements. Try as you might, your nen couldn't suppress the movement.

“We made sandcastles though. Or at least, Killua made one. The kid's crazy talented. He made little windows and everything. Me and Gon? Not so much. It looked like something a toddler would do. And you know what? I was very proud of it. Never messed around with sand before. It was nice. I also met a turtle today. She was super mean though. I mean I can't blame her. She just wanted to lay her eggs.

“I got gifted some nice shells. I think I'm gonna keep them in a box for safe keeping. Maybe turn a few of them into a necklace. We'll see when this is all over.”

You stared up at him looming over you. Strangely, you weren't threatened. It was almost comforting.

“They looked…so sad when I had to go. I think they genuinely forgot about it. About everything. That's supposed to be good, right? Why doesn't it feel that way? Why did it feel like I made things worse?”

You wrapped your arms around your knees and rested your head on them.

“I don't know what I'm doing with them. I don't know what I'm doing with myself. It always looked so easy when I was growing up. The adults making all the decisions. Like they had everything figured out. Maybe they did. Maybe I'm what's wrong. Wouldn't be the first time.”

You let out a drained sigh. Looking up from your arms and searching for his eyes.

“Every decision I make feels like the wrong one. Some days I just want to give up. Run away like I always do. But I can't…I don't want to. I want to be strong. I want to be enough. But right now, I don't know what to do. I haven't for quite some time. I just don't want the boys to end up like me.”

You didn't want to push them too far.

You sat there for a moment. Letting the silence be your comfort. You'd usually ask how his day was, even if you knew he wouldn't respond. Yet you couldn't find it in you to keep talking. You'd sit here until time ran out. Then do your best to put yourself back together before you went home.

You got in a crouching position. A shuffling sound making you go on full alert. You directed your attention towards the noise, focusing your eyes on the dark corner.

An aura. An empathetic aura.

“Who's there?” You called out.

A rookie mistake. If you sensed something, go on the offense. Take the element of surprise. Had you been so off your game that you forgot one of your most basic principles?

“No need to get so defensive. It's just me.” From the shadows emerged Morel.

Was he wiping away a tear?

“What are you doing here?” You asked. You were standing up by now, your back to Kite.

Never turn your back on an enemy.

You didn't perceive Kite as an enemy, Morel noted. Confidence in your own abilities perhaps? Or was it something else entirely? Something soft judging by the tone you used talking to him.

“It's my turn to watch Kite. Usually Knuckle and Shoot know when you're coming to give you your space. I thought you'd be another hour.” He answered.

He could see the tension leave your shoulders. You were protective over Kite. No. You were protective of the vulnerability you shared with him. His eyes only. Like that smile you gave him.

Knuckle and Shoot were scared of you?

You were more bark than bite. He couldn't sense any hostility from you despite your guarded exterior. That didn't mean you would back down if push came to shove.

“You were watching me,” you said after a while.

It didn't sit right with you that he could've revealed himself at any time and chose not to. Yet you couldn't sense any ill intent from him. So why just stand there until you were finished?

“I didn't mean to. You just looked like you needed to let that out. Call it a hunch.”

Hunters and their damned instincts. A part of you upset that he wasn't wrong.

“You two are lovers?” He gestured between you and Kite.

Immediately your face flushed. You tried to sputter your way through a response. Glaring when you heard him start laughing.

“Guess not then. You just seemed to care a lot about him.”

The atmosphere had lightened. Your defensiveness being chipped away the longer you talked. A gut feeling telling you to let down your guard completely. But you weren't ready for that quite yet. Your trust had to be earned.

“We're friends. Plain and simple,” you finally got out. Only for your face to burn impossibly hotter with his next choice of words.

“But you have feelings for him?”

The heat spread to the tips of your ears.

“Why is everybody interested in my love life?” You mumbled before answering. Why were you answering?

“Yes, I like him. And maybe he feels the same way, or felt the same way. Doesn't really change anything currently, does it?”

You looked up at him, watching as he tried to stifle laughter. The same way you did when the boys would get into petty arguments.

“Dickhead! Don't laugh at me!”

You realized then that you were closer to him. Since when had you moved forward?

“Okay, okay. How about a simpler question? Do the boys get along with him?”

It took you a second to answer. Trying to collect your thoughts after they'd been scattered.

“Are you kidding me? Gon absolutely adores him. The happiest I've seen him is when he's talking with Kite. They really bonded over Gon's father. Personally, I think the guy's a dick, but hey, it's something…It's sweet in a way, how much he looks up to him.” You stopped talking when you realized you were rambling.

You briefly glanced over at Morel. He was looking at you expectantly. Waiting for you to continue on. Not at all bothered that you strayed from the topic.

It was oddly reassuring.

“Killua didn't really like him at first. I guess he wanted Kite to earn his approval. Usually if Gon trusts someone, Killua will as well. Not this time though. He did eventually come around. I think seeing Kite help me out so much put him at ease. But my God, the teasing from both of them. Literal torture. I wanted to pass away and have my spirit evaporate.”

You covered your face with your hands once more. Doing your absolute best not to relive those moments and block out the embarrassment. Completely missing the way Morel's features had softened.

If it hadn't been clear before, it sure as hell was now. The three of you were close. Inseparable even, judging by how things played out the last time they were here.

“You really love those boys, don't you?” He asked, though he already knew the answer.

You uncovered your face with your hands. Your expression was more serious this time. More somber.

“... They're my family. I'd do just about anything for them.”

You were very different than the person he first perceived you to be. You were strong, despite running away from a fight. It made sense in context now given your response. You'd protect those boys at any costs. Even if it meant leaving someone behind.

Even if it meant losing your life.

You also had more guts than most pro hunters. Cussing out the chairman, and then scolding a group of hunters for the situation the boys were in. Then there was the fact you scared the crap out of his students. One look was all it took. You were a fiery one for sure.

Most importantly, you'd made a promise and stuck to it. You were here everyday. You would spend about an hour here with Kite. Although you stopped letting him hit you, you still found a way to be near him. He had no doubt you'd eventually find a way to fix him.

“To be honest, I thought you were a coward when I first saw you,” Morel admitted.

“A broken body barely alive after fleeing from a battle. Not even trying to fight before you already made up your decision. It goes against everything hunters stand for. But…”

He paused and flashed what looked like an amused smile.

“Those boys are deathly protective of you. Killua chewed me out for calling you a loser. He valued defending your honor more than protecting his pride. If looks could kill, he'd have vaporized me and Knov on the spot.”

He was hoping to get a positive reaction out of you from that. But you only looked down and clenched your fists tightly. Yet it wasn't anger that radiated off you. It was guilt.

“You weren't wrong about me. I am a coward. I ran away because I was scared. I was…”

You didn't know how much you wanted to reveal. If you should reveal anything at all. You looked up to gauge his reaction. It was the same patient expression from before. Waiting, but not wanting to push for information you weren't ready to give.

“Go on, little one. What happened next?”

It felt like you were small again. Admitting to something you were ashamed of. Like you were talking to Father before your revelation about your clan.

You felt safe.

“I was reminded of my past. I needed to get out of there. I really think I would've left Gon and Killua behind if they weren't right in front of me.”

You were shaking when you finished. Trembling with guilt. So strong and yet so utterly weak.

“You're just a kid.” Morel said at last.

You sent him a small glare with no real malice behind it. If anything you were frustrated with constantly being looked down by these people.

“Don't talk down to me, old man. I'm a helluva lot younger than you, but that doesn't make me a kid.”

A ‘guess not’ leaving him as you leaned against the wall before ultimately deciding to sit down again. You didn't know when you got this close to the other side of the room. When your feet started moving you forward. It wasn't good to have your body in action while your mind was elsewhere.

Surprisingly, Morel sat down next to you. He glanced at Kite, then back to you. As if weighing the pros and cons of something. If he should ask you the question burning in his mind.

“Why do you keep coming back here?”

And there it was. Your body tensed up. You didn't know how to respond.

“Are you hoping something changes with Kite? Or is it something else?” He continued interrogating.

You were frozen. Your very being shutting down. You wanted to get up and leave. Yet you were unable to move from your spot on the floor.

“Are you punishing yourself for running away?”

He hit the nail right on the head. He knew he did judging by the way your eyes had widened. He couldn't help but pity you. You'd been broken down over the years. It was obvious with your way of thinking. That you had to make amends for the smallest of mistakes.

“Shouldn't I?” you asked. Your voice was small, as if you truly couldn't fathom a world where it wasn't your fault.

“I'm responsible for this. Shouldn't I deserve to suffer for it? Shouldn't I deserve the worst for causing this?” You gestured towards Kite.

This glimpse of your true thoughts, of how far you'd been conditioned to spiral, it was upsetting. Beating yourself up when you were already down. All of it had to come from somewhere. From grief.

“You won't last long with that kind of attitude. Sometimes things go wrong that are out of our control,” he scolded. He gave a small sigh before continuing to speak.

“It's funny, you know?”

“What?” you forced yourself to say.

“You sound just like that Chimera ant we met. His name is Colt. He blames himself for his human sister's death. For the queen’s death. Now he's got a little one to take care of, and you know what he said?”

You shook your head no.

“He promised he wouldn't make the same mistakes with her. That he would protect her at all costs. Now who does that sound like?”

You could feel your eyes start to burn. There was no way. No way you could ever relate to one of those things. After all the pain and suffering they've inflicted. And yet you did. Eerily so.

“You lost someone too, didn't you? It's why you're hard on yourself. You haven't forgiven yourself for what happened.”

The coincidence was almost enough to kill you. One tear. Then two. Then three. Then multiple at the same time.

Kari.

Your Kari who was ripped from you far too soon. Whose face you were starting to forget with age. Who had been the light of your life.

“...I lost my little sister. I could've saved her. I could've saved her, but I ran away. I was too scared. I'm a disgrace. I'm worth less than nothing.” You buried your face in your knees in an attempt to hide yourself.

You didn't want anyone's sympathy. You refused to let anyone see you cry if you could help it.

“Really? Those boys seem to think you're worth more than gold. They'd rather die with you than live without you. Why do you think they wanted you to use your nen on them?” Morel countered.

“Because they're stupid,” you sniffled out.

He had to stop his eyes from rolling at your comment.

“You don't get it. If you told them to jump, they'd ask how high. If you decided right now not to go through with the extermination mission, they'd walk out with you.”

You could probably murder someone in cold blood right in front of them, and they'd find a way to excuse it. Their trust in you was unwavering. It was clear they held you to the highest standard.

Yet you still couldn't see that. Believing the worst in yourself because it was how you were brought up. The trauma inflicted on you from such a young age. You had to come to terms with it eventually. You had to accept it was never your fault.

“I know who you are” he admitted.

You'd stiffened up once more.

“The things you went through when you were a kid. Don't let their teachings warp your perception on life. You are deserving of love. And you have it. That clan's been backwards for years.”

You lifted your head up. If you weren't so vulnerable in the moment, you would have snapped. Instead you'd looked scared.

“How much do you know?” you hesitantly asked.

“We had to do our research when putting together the extermination team. You weren't hard to find with the name Netero gave. They've still got your missing photo up on the hunter website. The reward is still there too.”

You would never be free, would you? Forever tethered to the ghost of your past.

“They're still looking for me. They never gave up.” It was said more to yourself than Morel.

They were lying in wait somewhere. Or perhaps they really did forget. A part of you was grateful for the information. A heads up to be more careful. You weren't out of it yet. When this was over, you'd get rid of your nen entirely. Rid of the risk.

“The boys don't know, do they?” Morel questioned.

“No. And I plan to keep it that way.”

“You should tell them before someone else does. They're bound to find out through other means. And I doubt they'd think any lesser of you.” He tried to convince.

“... I'll think about it.”

You were reminded of Netero and how he greeted you so casually in front of them. Using a name you'd long discarded. It was only a matter of time before something else came out.

“Be easy on yourself. If it helps, I know someone who does counseling for hunters. You weren't kidding about the stuff some of us experience. I can put you in contact with them if you ever want to talk about something. The boys too. I think it'll be good for them after this is over.”

You wondered what he got in return for helping you? Was it just because, or was there something he was after? People rarely did favors without expecting something back. The only person you met who did was Kite.

“Why are you being so nice to me, old man?”

He smiled at you as he pulled out a cigar from his pocket.

“We're all on the same team here. Besides, it can't be easy taking care of two kids. I'd say you're doing a pretty good job, though.”

He lit the cigar and took a puff, blowing out perfect smoke rings. He extended his arm out, offering it to you.

“Do you smoke?” he asked.

“No, but I could give it a try.”

You reached for the cigar, and just as your fingers grazed it, he pulled it away.

“I forgot. You've still got the boys back home. They'll get sick with the fumes.”

You internally thanked him for his hindsight. With Gon's heightened sense of smell, he'd get lightheaded in minutes. And you doubted either of the boys would appreciate it if they knew you smoked. They'd probably scold you too.

“Yeah…You're probably right.”

—---------------------

You got home later than you expected. You supposed it was inevitable you'd lose track of time. You just need a moment to process things. To cope with the decision you made.

You mulled over it again and again. Trying to convince yourself out of it, to no avail. You looked for every possible excuse, but you could find no good reason.

You stood in front of the small home. Unlocking the door and finally stepping inside. You could hear the two boys conversing quietly in the kitchen. You hoped you hadn't ruined their day by leaving.

“I'm back!” You announced as you approached them.

They turned at the sound of your voice. A few take-out boxes littered the table. One going completely untouched. Good. They remembered to eat.

“We saved you some. It's from that one place you said you wanted to try, remember?” Gon offered.

Truthfully, it was a way for both of them to make amends for earlier. They hadn't meant to show their disappointment. It was just hard not to when the three of you were finally spending real time together. They knew how important this was to you. The last thing either one of them wanted was stop you from going.

But every time you did, it took a toll on you. Today more than others, it seemed. You looked miserable. The circles under your eyes had darkened impossibly worse. There was an undeniable heaviness in your expression that wasn't there before you left.

Did something happen with Kite?

“How was he?” Gon asked.

The same thing he asked every time you came back. A part of him hoping something changed for the better. That there was an improvement. But this time was different. He wanted to know what went wrong for you to be so despondent.

“He was…the same.” You said slowly. Resting your head on your hand.

“You're not hungry?” Killua observed.

You hadn't made a move to grab your food. You always ate when you came back. Even just a little bite. Something was wrong.

“I’m just thinking.” You responded.

“About?” He prodded.

You let out a drained sigh. Looking between both boys before deciding to just rip the band aid off. If you didn't tell them, they'd eventually find out some other way. You wanted them to hear everything from you.

“Can I talk to you two about something serious?” you asked.

Serious usually meant bad. And judging by the way the color drained from the boys' faces, they certainly thought so. You were quick to explain that wasn't the case.

“It's about me. I think I'm finally ready to tell you everything. My life before.”

Morel was right, and you were tired of denying them reasons for your actions. Tired of leaving their questions unanswered.

“Are you sure? You don't have to force yourself.” Gon assured.

You had come this far. No going back now.

“I'm sure. The question is, will you both be able to handle the truth?”

Handle knowing and not being able to act. Their reactions to Kite offered some much needed insight. Seeing the aftermath of what happened caused a rageful vengeance in one of them. What would hearing about what happened to you spark?

“After all we've been through, you think-!” Killua went to argue, but you stopped him with a raise of your hand.

You didn't mean for it to come off like you thought they were weak.

“I know you two are strong. I mean, promise you won't do anything rash. I don't want you getting mad or angry. Or try to hold anyone responsible. Nobody can change what happened.”

They sat in silence for a moment. You were willing to trust them with this. To finally open up under the condition that they would control themselves. It was difficult not to be alarmed with your words. What exactly did you go through?

They didn't dare speak. Fearing if they said one wrong thing, they'd never get another chance to hear you out. Instead they both opted for giving you a small nod.

So you finally began to explain everything. How you came from a respected clan of hunters. One that was primitive for the most part. Exceptions being made only for the most valued members.

You talked about what your role was. How you were trained since infancy to be the best of the best. To be strong. To be utterly devoted to your clan. You explained that you were a prodigy. The best tracker among your peers. Your eyes more precise than Father's. You were chosen as one of three potential candidates to become the head.

You told them about your best friend. How he was right with you in terms of trajectory. How the two of you hated each other at first. How you were able to get past your differences when it mattered. Forming a rivalry rather than a feud.

You talked about the old man who used to give you sweets. How he made you work for them by quizzing you on trivia from his time growing up. You talked about his daughter who used to sing the kids songs. Who might've been the closest thing you ever had to a mother. Carrying around her tunes to this day.

And finally, you talked about Father Reik.

The punishments you were given for failing. For lying. The isolation. The darkness. The starvation. The hitting. The people who blindly revered him.

All the death and suffering your clan caused. How you tried to stop it, but couldn't. The way lives were taken without a care because ‘it’s nothing personal.’ The moment you realized you didn't want any part of it anymore.

How you made a plan to flee.

How they all turned on you.

How your little sister was murdered right in front of you.

How you hid all these years in fear of the same thing happening to you. Why you kept running away. Why you refused to fight.

To prevent the same fate from befalling them.

“I used to hold a grudge. But now I'm just glad to be away from them.” You admitted.

You could sense that your words were unsatisfactory. A feeling of disbelief washing over both boys. You forced yourself to elaborate further.

“I…I don't hate them. Despite everything they've done to me, I don't hate them. They took me in. They fed me, gave me a home. They made me strong. Strong enough to protect the ones I love.”

“They abused you.” Gon said.

He had been clenching his fist tightly. Trying his best not to let his anger get the best of him. But he just couldn't accept you’d forgiven them. That you were still making excuses for them. After everything they did to you.

He couldn't fathom being grateful to them. Why? It didn't make sense. Could they still have a grasp on you? Or were you truly done with it all?

“Yeah. Yeah they did.” You agreed.

“I don't want to excuse their actions, but it's not something that's black and white. My people were brought up to be the best of the best. To endure the worst hardships and persevere. From generation to generation. The outside makes you weak. You start thinking instead of focusing on what's best for the clan. It's a backwards sort of thinking that takes years and years to unlearn.”

Why were you giving them your sympathy? They didn't deserve it.

“It takes so much energy to hold a grudge. I should hate them. I should hate him. I should want them all to suffer.”

Yes you should! You should be angry! You should denounce their actions entirely! You should-

“But I don't. That doesn't mean I forgive them. Just being far away from them is enough.”

Your words were soft. The tone immediately snapping him out of his harsh thoughts. He promised he wouldn't get mad. That he wouldn't try to hold anybody responsible. He promised to be passive and listen. Yet here he was, getting worked up on your behalf.

You just wanted peace. To be left alone. Considering everything that happened, it was the bare minimum you were asking for. And if that's what you truly wanted, then somehow he'd manage to let it go.

“You're little sister, what was she like?” Killua questioned, diverting the subject to something lighter.

Something he'd been curious about for the longest time. The name you always mumbled in your sleep before reaching out. The girl who you completely shut down at the mention of.

Kari.

He wondered if she was anything like Alluka. If the way he treated her was anything like the bond you shared with your sister. Was he doing as good a job as you?

“She meant the world to me.”

You used your nen to conjure two small figures. One was taller than the other. They picked the smaller one up on their back.

“There are things I remember about her. Things I could never forget. Her hair was always a mess of unruly curls.”

The smaller figure sprouted curly hair. Jumping off of the taller one and proceeding to run in place. The taller one joined them, throwing its head back in what looked like laughter.

A silhouette very reminiscent of you.

“I tried brushing it out once, but the comb snapped in half. She said she was tired of her hair not doing what everybody else's was. After the third comb, I convinced her she didn't need to look like anybody else. That I loved her the way she was a thousand times over any approval from our peers.”

That sounded like you. Encouraging and soft when you wanted to be. Good to know that hadn't changed over time. But maybe a small part of the boys ached that they hadn't been the only ones on the receiving end of your affection.

The two figures sat down. Little fingers folding into signs Killua could not read.

“Her eyes were a light brown. So light, they were almost gold.”

The color of honey.

“But little by little, her face is starting to get blurry. And I know that one day I'll forget completely. The last thing I have of hers is our promise. What remains of her aura.”

Your promise not to fight. And you were willing to break it for them.

“We had a list of goals we wanted to do once we left the clan. Get a dog. Get a house. And ride a Ferris wheel. Stupid, but hey, we were five and seven. To us that meant a life well lived. I only lasted this long because I wanted to live for the both of us.”

You really loved her, didn't you?

A dejected feeling settled in both boys. Would either of them ever hold a candle to your sister? It looked like she took up your whole heart, leaving minimal space for anyone else. She drove you forward. Did they hold you back? Did you regret crossing paths with them and having the life you dreamed of on hold? Did you-

“But now I have you two. I have purpose. And I'd do anything to keep you safe. Even if it means you hate me for it.”

No. You loved them just as much as you had loved her.

How selfish to be insecure over someone you cared for deeply. How shameful.

Things had been out in context now. Especially your tendency to flake when things got rough. And for the small assassin, he couldn't help but feel like he was the worst. He didn't know. You just wanted to protect the both of them and he'd snapped at you. He said awful things to you. Things that he didn't know tied back to something so terrible.

And you'd forgiven him anyway.

“I'm sor-” he tried to apologize but was cut off.

“Please don't apologize to me. I don't want any sympathy. I'm not telling you all this so you can feel bad for me. I'm telling you because I trust you. You've never hidden anything from me, so I figured it was time for me to do the same.” You explained.

There was really nothing either of the boys could add to that. You'd told them about your upbringing. Now you wanted to focus on the future. A future they promised you'd get to fulfill your goals in. Where you'd be safe to live out the life you wanted to. So instead they said-

“Thank you for trusting us.”

—-----------------------

Fun Fact #16: Y/n’s new ability is called Playtime, in which they summon two marionettes. Each composed of a full half of their nen, leaving them completely exposed to outside attacks when both are summoned. Either can be used for defense or offense. When in offense mode, the marionette attacks its opponent relentlessly despite its small stature. Being able to avoid most critical hits and move with agility. When in defense mode, the marionette is used to block oncoming attacks by switching places with Y/n. The move is called Substitution. If Y/n is able to use Substitution consecutively three times, the marionette is able to steal the opponent’s ability for one hour. They will only disappear for three reasons. Y/n unsummons them. Y/n dies. Or Y/n passes out.

Tags: @fandomhoe101 @justxiao @bekataylorgriggs @zellwa @rainbowpr1sm @shun-nie

if you'd like to be tagged please let me know

MASTERLIST

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An: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

It's here, after two months. We've almost reached the end game now. Fun fact- "You can't die, I won't let you” will come back to haunt us in future chapters 😃. I just love foreshadowing don't you? Also, our fun fact of the day is a mousekatool that will come in handy later. I just don't think I'll find the space to do explain it during our next two chapters, but we'll see.

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH ✨🌈💕

And Happy Father's Day 👔👔👔 (because let's face it, y'all are the dadiest of daddies 🤤)

#hxh #hunter x hunter #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter x reader #hxh x y/n #hunter x hunter x y/n #gon x reader #killua x reader #mayhaps a kite x reader???#big sib reader #older reader #x reader #platonic #moon and sun insert #found family

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weministertomonsters · 7 months ago

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M Werefox (Harcourt) x F reader - 1

➤ Pairing - M werefox x F reader ➤ Wordcount 1.9k

A lovely reader on Patreon liked Harcourt and asked about a Part 2 for this story and of course I said yes! I had to rewrite Part 1 though, so here it is! Part 2 is coming soon as well.

I don't think I've ever posted this to Tumblr because this story was from my glory days on Wattpad before my book got deleted. (If you’re reading this on Wattpad, maybe you remember it? Idk)

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It's your twelfth birthday and the sun is shining and your friends are due to arrive in an hour for your little party. Suddenly you hear your mother yelling outside.

"Shoo! Out, out!"

You scamper into the backyard to see what the fuss is about and find her chasing the scrawniest werefox kit you've ever seen away from the chicken coop. He's got egg yolk clinging to his chin, an undeniable sign of his theft. His black-tipped ears pin to his head as he deftly dodges the dishcloth your mother is wielding and leaps over the backyard fence, disappearing into the brush.

"I've heard all about him from Pansy down the street. She says she's also missing eggs now and then," your mother says, putting her hands on her hips and blowing her hair out of her eyes.

"But Ma!" You wail, "he's hungry! Did you see how thin he was?"

Your mother pats your head. "He's different from us, darling. Those creatures are half wild. I'm sure there's plenty of things in the forest for him to hunt."

"But he's so small," you reply anxiously. "Not much bigger than me. Maybe he can't catch anything."

"How did he even get in?" Your mother murmurs, checking the latch on the coop, and then tutting in dismay as she sees the side of the coop, where the kit has scratched and chewed through the thin wood planks, making a hole to squeeze through.

"Oh dear. This is going to take a while to fix," your mother sighs and peeks into the coop. "And now I'm a few eggs short for your cake. At least he didn't go after the chickens."

You hardly care about your cake now. "If he comes again, can we keep him?"

Your mother purses her lips together in the way she does when you ask her a question she doesn't know how to answer.

"He might be wild, but he's not an animal," your mother finally replies. "He'll grow just as big as you, and you can't keep him as a pet."

"Why not?" You whine. "He doesn't have a mommy or a daddy, does he? He's all alone."

"You don't know that, darling," your mother says.

"Pleaseee?" You hop from one foot to another and stare up at your mother with pleading eyes.

She smiles, but she doesn't say yes. "My soft-hearted girl," she says and hugs you. "Come, let's see if we can still put together something sweet for your birthday."

You pout for the rest of the week, but she doesn't budge, like any sensible mother. The little werefox has to have a den nearby and you hope the next time you see him, you can follow him to it. The next Saturday your mother is visiting the Pansy down the street with some soup for her sick son. You're alone at home, swinging in the backyard and trying to see how high you can go. Your stomach swoops as the swing brings you down, and just then you see a flash of russet through the corner of your eye.

The werefox boy sits down and pries at the planks on the newly repaired coop, bracing one hindfoot on the wall as he begins to pull. He's stronger than he looks, and you hear the wood beginning to splinter. You leap out of the swing and misjudge your timing, crashing onto your knees in the dirt. The noise startles him and he jumps up.

"Wait!" You clamber to your feet.

He hops over the fence and scurries away, darting glances at you over his shoulder. You grab your half-eaten ham sandwich from the porch and race after him. He's fast and agile, darting into the trees and leaping over fallen branches while you straggle behind, still calling for him to wait for you. You lose sight of him when you're forced to stop and catch your breath. The lettuce has fallen out of the sandwich, but you're pretty sure he wouldn't have wanted it anyway. You walk aimlessly in the direction he went, wondering if you'll be able to find him.

You come across a hole between the thick roots of a tree that looks just about big enough. You kneel and look into the hole. The dirt has been scraped away and smoothed down to make a tunnel.

"Hello?" You call down. "Is this your den?"

There's a rustle, and the werefox boy pops his head out, his eyes alert. You sit back on your haunches and look at him.

"Why are you following me?" He asks, his ears constantly twitching as he listens to the forest.

"You can speak?"

"Duh," he replies.

"I brought you this." You hold out the sandwich, which is crumbly now.

His eyes narrow and he leans forward to sniff your hand. He snatches it from you and scarfs it down, his pupils widening as he tastes the ham.

"Is it good?" You ask.

He nods and eyes your greasy hand. He leans forward and presses his muzzle against your hand, licking the taste of ham away.

You giggle. "You're like a really big puppy!"

He pulls back and disappears into his den.

"Better come inside. It's dangerous out there," he mutters.

You clamber happily in with no regard for your safety. His den is like a secret treehouse, but way cooler. The floor is lined with dry, crunchy leaves and soft downy chicken feathers.

"You might get in trouble for killing people's chickens, you know," you say, crossing your legs and getting comfortable.

There's just about enough room for the two of you.

"I'm not," he says. "I gather the loose feathers when I... You know." He looks ashamed.

"Where are your parents?" You ask. "They should be taking care of you so you don't have to steal."

"I don't know," he says, lying down and curling his tail around his thin body. "I ran away."

"Ran away from your home? Why?"

"It wasn't a home, it was a traveling circus." He stares at the dirt ceiling of his den. "We went to so many different places."

You glimpse a scruffy, dirty collar chafing the fur around his neck.

"Was that from the circus? Why are you still wearing it?"

"I can't work the latch," he says.

"Can I help?"

He squirms and shivers, but tilts his head to let you try. In a few seconds, you've removed it. His eyes brighten and he rubs the fur on his neck.

"Thank you," he says shyly.

You nod. "What was the circus like? Did they poke you with sticks like they do with the lions? To get you to do tricks?"

His shoulders quiver and he makes a barking sound that seems equivalent to a human laugh.

"No, I pickpocketed the crowd. I was small and quick, so nobody really noticed me.

"Where the circus people mean to you? Is that why you left?"

He shakes his head. "They were okay. But we were always in the cities when all I wanted to do was be in the forests and look up at the night sky. I couldn't leave because I had a contract, so I just ran away."

"And now you're here."

He nods, idly scratching the matted fur on his neck where the collar was.

"You can't steal any more eggs," you tell him. "I'll bring you food instead."

"Why would you do that?" His gaze follows you as you crawl over to the entrance of his den.

"Because we're friends," you tell him. "I have to go home now, or else my Ma will wonder where I am."

"Okay."

"You never told me your name. Friends need to know each other's names," you tell him.

"At the circus, everyone called me Harcourt, so I guess that's my name."

"So fancy," you giggle and tell him your name in return. "See you tomorrow!"

You keep your promise, showing up the next day with a whole sandwich this time, and a brush. You show him how to use it and help him pick twigs and clumps of dirt out of his fur. He hates the water, but you convince him to try it. Once he's dry, you brush him until he's fluffy and soft, and the sun dances in his fur. He begins to smile, and you never mind how sharp his teeth are. As time passes you grow apart from your old friends, but Harcourt remains close.

Your mother notices that the eggs are never stolen again. One day as you head out for your daily "walk" she packs some extra food and puts it in your hands.

"How long have you known, Ma?"

"Do you think I'd let my girl leave the house almost every day without making sure you're safe?" She says with a twinkle in her eye.

You wrinkle your nose, trying to picture your mother sneaking after you.

"So you don't mind?" You ask. "Harcourt and I are friends now."

"So his name is Harcourt..." She murmurs. "Just make sure to come home before dark, my child."

That's how you made- and kept- your unlikely friend. You spend most of your free time in the forest with Harcourt, eating sandwiches and drinking cool water from the spring nearby. You taught him how to swim and look for shapes in the clouds and in return, he showed you how to forage for berries and edible mushrooms. You brought some blankets out to his den and on cold days you would curl up together inside his den and you would read to him with the light of a lantern.

He began to put on a little muscle and get taller than you. He was also moodier, and would sometimes growl when he was in an extra bad mood. You got testy yourself, and sometimes you would argue and end up storming back to your house in angry tears. You had always told your mother everything and that didn't change. She listened to you, smiled, and sometimes even shed a tear at your woes.

She never complained about your friendship with Harcourt but as puberty hit she got more cautious, often poking around embarrassing subjects, which embarrassed you to no end. You would tell her it wasn't like that and you were just friends, and then you would run to your room and blush angrily into your pillow, wondering why she even had to bring that up.

Eventually, you had to leave for the capital to further your education. You cried the hardest that day, soaking Harcourt's fur with your tears and promising that you wouldn't forget him. You wrote him letters and asked your mother to read them to him. Your dear mother even wrote back for him now and then. Harcourt's letters were filled with stories about fishing, expanding his den, an incident with a badger, and even working in town to make some money. He had learned to read and promised to learn to write as well.

Half a year later he fulfilled that promise. His handwriting was chicken scratch and hard to read, but you stuck each one to your dorm wall and looked at them often. Your roommate got to hear the whole story from you, and would often tease you and tell you that you were definitely in love. After a while, you stopped denying it.

Finally, you completed your last year and graduated. You could hardly contain your excitement as you packed to go home, looking forward to seeing your mother, breathing in the crisp countryside air, and meeting your good friend again. You headed to the train station and before you knew it, you were on the way home.

#exophilia #terato #monster x reader #monster lover #monster x human #monster boyfriend #werefox

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randomrabbidramblings · 5 months ago

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Other new Sparks of Hope concept art!

And now for my usual overanalyzing ramblings, lol.

Woodrow has something interesing in his page:

A pot with yet another umbrella (red instead of black, though), a branch for some reason and interestingly enough: multiple walking sticks as well as a cane. The walking sticks may be used for his strolls in the woods, but the walking cane? He's seen walking (or better, gliding lol) without aid in the game, so was it used after his accident when he had to adapt to his new tall body shape? Or is he supposed to be older than we thought? Or more presumibly, he really does have rheumatisms from all the humidity in his house and needs it from time to time?

Also, his book and pen. Remarkably, his book' cover is stitched up and has a ruined corner. And of course the pen tip is a Rabbid face, lmao.

Augie is also interesting because: is that him with an actual crown wielding an actual weapon?? It can't be his father because he has lightining shaped eyebrows and a totally different beard. Could we have had an actual demigod Augie (and by "actual" I mean "competent", lol)?

Honorable mentions:

Sullivan's... interesting way to use his whistle (maybe he's part balloon too, lol).

A rolling Sillyfish.

Sweetlopek and the Dryad (especially that second picture, the Dryad is literally coming out of the tree).

Bea's majestic swing.

Da Da being cute :3

Goober face moments before an unsuspecting Rabbid slips on a banana peel in the middle of a pumpkin field.

#rabbid #rabbids #mario + rabbids #mario rabbids #mario+rabbids #sparks of hope #mario rabbids sparks of hope #mario+rabbids sparks of hope #mario + rabbids sparks of hope #my rambles

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cyren-myadd · 5 months ago

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Let's talk about the first look at Avatar 3 (pt 1)

🚨SPOILER WARNING FOR AVATAR 3 UNDER THE CUT!🚨

Last night at D23, James Cameron unveiled the very first real sneak peek of Avatar 3: Fire and Ash. I honestly wasn't expecting to get anything more than a title or synopsis, so I was so stoked when I saw the concept art they shared! I posted the images here last night, but I was too hyped up to think straight so I decided to wait a bit and process everything before talking about it. Now I'm ready to share my thoughts on each of the four images!

First off, we have Varang leading the Ash People on the backs of flying creatures!

The Ash People appear to be very similar to Forest People, with thin builds, blue skin, and big yellow eyes. However, I believe their skin is slightly paler and/or duller than the Forest People, it's hard to tell with the lighting. In the other picture of we have of Varang, they also appear to have long, sharp claws, and shorter, slightly thicker tails that are completely hairless. So even though they're overall pretty similar to Na'vi we've already seen before, they do have different physical traits, they're just not as drastically different as the Reef People. I'm excited to see how their different physiques help them in their environment! Perhaps they spend a lot of time climbing on rock, so they evolved big claws, and maybe they don't need long, thin tails to balance while swinging through trees, so their tails changed shape over time.

Just like their riders, the Ash People's also mounts appear similar to their forest banshee cousins, but with a few differences. The "Ash Banshee" looks paler and thinner than forest banshees and I notice it has a lot more of the dragonfly like sections on their wings. This might make them more agile in the air, able to adjust the shape of their wings to pull of more drastic turns than forest banshees can. In the real world, bats are much more agile in the air than birds because bats have more bones in their wings that allow them to change the wing's shape as they fly. The ash banshee also looks like it has some kind of a horn on its head as well as little fleshy tendrils on the sides of its face. I hope we get to see an aerial battle between ash and forest banshees!

Varang herself looks very stunning and intimidating with that dramatic red headdress and war paint. It reminds me of the frill some species of lizards use to frighten enemies- varang's frill probably has a similar purpose. She also appears to be wearing skin-tight black pants, probably something similar to the purple leg guards Neytiri wears during long flights. I also see the tip of a bow peeking out from behind Varang. If Varang uses a bow, I hope we get to see a showdown between her and our favorite archer, Neytiri!

The Ash Na'vi also all appear to have their kurus intact, so that disproves the theory that they would cut off their kurus because they hate Eywa. But speaking of them hating Eywa, I notice the warrior directly to Varang's left is carrying a large gun, which means the Ash People know how to use guns and are okay with doing it. The logical conclusion from this is that someone is supplying them with guns and/or teaching them how to use them. Either they're stealing from the RDA and teaching themselves, or Quaritch has taught them to use human weapons. Another possibility is that Jake reached out to them to join the war effort and taught them human weaponry, but they ended up turning on him.

In BTS footage, we've seen both Quaritch and Neytiri seemingly dressed in Ash People clothing, so it's possible that Quaritch or Jake and co. have tried to ally themselves with the Ash People.

The last thing of note in the picture is that this is likely our first look at the Ash Na'vi's homeland. Sadly, since we're looking at the sky, there's not much we can tell other than that it's cloudy and there's rocky formations in the background. Maybe the Ash People live in the rock formations.

What do you guys think of this image? Are there any details I missed?

#Avatar #avatar 3 #avatar fire and ash #cyren myadd theorizes #varang

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blueskittlesart · 1 year ago

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Hey it's the anon who wants to play BOTW but is egregious bad at video games again. I took your advice and I've shocked myself at how much progress i've made, I got to the goron village, korok forest, and rito village. One current issue is that I am still. SO bad at the combat. Like SO bad. I panic immediately and lose all coordination (which I already had very little of). I managed to get myself killed before I could even get to the point where Sidon GIVES YOU the quest to get to Zora's domain. I completely fumbled through a minor test of strength.

Any tips for improving general combat capabilities. HELP

hi! first of all, i'm gonna go over the basics of combat and how/when you should use them. the game does technically tell you these things, but they come up early game and are pretty easy to miss imo. you might know some of them already tho!

the first thing that's probably going to be really helpful to you if you don't already know about it is enemy targeting. this locks the camera in place on a specific enemy, even within a horde of them, giving you free reign to abandon the right stick and focus on button pressing. to target an enemy, get close and press the left trigger (ZL.) this will also equip your shield if you're using a one-handed weapon, but the targeting is the most important. Once you're locked in on one enemy, so long as you keep the trigger pressed, the camera will auto-lock into a straight line from link's back to the enemy, so there's no need for you to worry about camera controls. if you DO touch the right stick while targeting, the target camera will jump to the next closest enemy to link and auto-lock again. in general, when fighting, your left pointer should be pressing the trigger to target at all times, your left thumb should be on the stick moving link around, and your right thumb should be pressing Y and shouldn't move from that button. that's the basic combat configuration and there aren't a lot of scenarios where you're going to have to do much more than that (except maybe the right trigger for your bow.)

next is weapon classes. there are 3 different melee weapon classes in botw--swords, greatswords, and polearms. each weapon class has a different attack pattern and speed, and each class has its own strengths and weaknesses.

swords are any weapon link swings one-handed. (examples include the master sword, broadswords, tree branches, boomerangs, small boko clubs, etc.) they have a decently fast attack pattern and when they're equipped link can also use a shield in his left hand with ZL. this is my favorite weapon class, as it's pretty middle-of-the road, usually they have mid-range attack points, as previously mentioned their attack speed isn't too slow, and they come with the added bonus of being able to use a shield. if you're fighting something like a guardian where shielding is necessary, you should always aim to be using a sword-class weapon as it's the only weapon class that link can also hold a shield with.

greatswords are heavy two-handed weapons (examples include claymores and bigger boko clubs.) they usually have very large attack stats, often in the 50s or above, which makes them tempting, especially early game. however, they have several noticeable drawbacks that make them my least favorite weapon class. because of their weight, their attack speed is very low, and because they're two-handed link can't shield when he has one equipped. I personally stay away from this weapon class early-game--imo they're only worth it if you have both hearts and stamina to spare. I only ever use them for hard-hitting charged attacks after stunning an enemy, and will almost always switch back to a sword-class weapon for regular combat.

polearms are long, light two-handed weapons that link holds like a spear (examples include spears, halberds, and tridents.) these have the fastest attack speed in the game, but because they're two-handed link still can't shield with one equipped. these weapons also usually have a longer reach than swords and greatswords, so they can be useful if you don't want to get too close to what you're fighting (however you forfeit the more reliable protection of a shield in order to get that benefit.) these are useful in a pinch, and personally i won't actively discard them like i tend to do with greatswords, but they definitely don't have the same versatility and ease of use as a sword-class weapon.

for early-game, i'd try to stick to sword-class weapons as much as possible, and ALWAYS have your shield up with the left trigger/ZL when you're in combat. this alone will make you harder to hit and let you last a lot longer. with the limited weapon slots you have early-game, i'd focus on collecting weapons that are easy for you to use rather than the ones with the highest attack stats, especially since they're going to break anyway. be willing to sacrifice a high-attack greatsword for a lower-attack one-handed sword in a pinch.

as for the actual mechanics of combat, there are plenty of fancy things you CAN do, but very few of them are actually necessary to beat the game. you can get through 90% of all combat in botw by just targeting with ZL and mashing Y, maybe occasionally sprinting with B to avoid enemy attacks. there are shrines and npcs that will teach you fancy things like backflips and perfect-dodges, which are useful if you can reliably perform them, but if you're someone who gets easily confused when you have to perform a lot of button presses in quick succession, it'll probably be more useful for you to just stick to Y attacks.

the one special combo attack you ARE going to need to learn in order to get through the game is a perfect shield parry, which is going to sound scary and difficult when i explain it but i promise it becomes like second nature after a while. this combo is the easiest way to combat anything that has a laser-beam attack, like guardians and certain late-game bosses. you hold your shield up with ZL, (this combo can ONLY be performed if you're holding a one-handed weapon, and make sure you're targeting the enemy attacking you and not just holding your shield up at nothing) wait for the laser to lock onto you, (the target line will blink rapidly and then disappear just before the laser fires) and then, right when the laser hits your shield, hit the A button to redirect the beam back towards the enemy. there is some level of danger here, because if you press A too early the beam may hit you, but most of the time if you fail to perform a perfect parry the beam will still just bounce off your shield and not do any damage to you. there are plenty of stationary guardians on the map you can use to practice this skill until the timing is ingrained into you, and i would highly recommend practicing it as it's super useful late-game.

as a final note, remember that botw is a game designed for versatility. it seems like you're doing everything very by-the-book--fighting whenever the game tells you to fight, regardless of whether you really WANT to fight. and there's nothing wrong with that, but it's also by no means the only way to get through the game. if you find yourself struggling with melee combat, there's nothing stopping you from buying a bunch of bomb arrows and just firing them off at enemies from afar, or even just eating a shit ton of stealth food and sneaking around them. certain combat scenarios are going to be unavoidable, but botw is a game that prioritizes player innovation, meaning that very rarely is there going to only be one way out of a situation. if you're struggling with melee combat, try something else! try your bow, or a rune, or avoiding combat altogether, until you find something that sticks and makes the game fun for you. there's no wrong way to play!

#also worth noting--if you get scared by the quick weapon-switch mechanics mid battle you can literally just pause and open your inventory #to manually switch if your weapon breaks. you don't NEED to use the D-pad for anything except runes if you don't want to #asks

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the12thnightproject · 4 months ago

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Chapter 20: The Ewok Operation - Okatsu tries to alert Nobunaga about the approaching danger; Mitsunari devises a plan to stall the invaders; and Mitsuhide makes a sacrifice.

Mitsunari x OC; Nobunaga x Mai

Previous Chapter

Logline - In order to protect a political alliance, Katusko and Mitsunari must pretend an engagement. But this “all business” arrangement is threatened by a coup against Nobunaga… and by feelings.

From the Military Notes of Ishida Mitsunari…

Allocation – a good commander knows when to allocate his resources and personnel in order to achieve their objectives.

Personal comments – Okatsu has been trained as a courier and in reconnaissance. She may be one of the best archers I know. However, while sending her out on a mission makes good strategic sense, I am terrified that she will not return.

This may be the first time I have truly understood the personal costs of the tactics written of in texts. “Resources and personnel” are not simply words and concepts … they are people.

I’d been fast… but not fast enough.

I was close… but not close enough.

Iekane’s men were indeed preparing for a nighttime raid on Genba. Could I still find a way into the castle to warn Nobunaga? The only obvious entry was through the gate, but Iekane showed no sign of abandoning his post. Perhaps I could these-are-not-the-droids-you’re-looking-for my way past him and simply stroll in... no... not wearing these clothes. He'd wonder why I wasn't dressed as Okatsu.

Still, I refused to give up without trying. Maybe there was a hidden way in. If I crept along the outer wall toward Genba’s tenshu, maybe I could find another route. I would have to avoid the wall sentries, of cou-

Where were the sentries?

They ought to have been posted along the walls, but no one was visible. Had they joined Iekane’s troops? Or were they being held prisoner somewhere? Overall, the situation appeared increasingly dire for anyone in Genba, although at least the missing sentries should make it easier for me to get to the tenshu unnoticed.

I found a tree that hung close enough to the wall to allow me to swing over, then ducked out of sight. Keeping my body low, I flattened myself against the stone, crawling slowly toward the tenshu, staying alert to any sound that would indicate an approaching guard.

It was eerily quiet.

Not until I reached the first guard tower did I understand why – the sentries were sprawled out under the tower, bodies stiff and cold, faces frozen in agony, a broken tea pot at their feet. Lady Yone’s calling card. Apparently she had found a use for the torikabuto after all.

I had been too late for these men, too.

Picking up the pace, I hurried toward the tenshu, looking for a door, window, any way in. There was nothing. The window slits were far off the ground, and too small for any human to climb through.

The most frustrating thing? I could even see Nobunaga’s quarters from where I stood. The window slits revealed flashes of green where Hideyoshi paced back and forth, his posture a picture of frustration. Probably he was upset because Mitsunari and I hadn’t come back yet. Nobunaga was sitting calmly, and though I was too far to see the look on his face, I expected that it was reflecting his amusement at Hideyoshi’s agitation. If only I could get one of them to look out - really look - out the window.

In the midst of my churning thoughts, one thing came to mind: "what would Mitsunari do?”

First, he would take stock of his inventory. What did I have with me? My bow and arrows - both my old arrows and the heavier tipped arrows I had purchased in Azuchi. My sword. The war fan Mitsunari had given me. Two daggers. A few acorns. The note the mysterious Kunoichi had slapped into my hand – had that been just yesterday?

Second, he would determine whether the inventory would be useful. Potentially ... could I shoot an arrow into Nobunaga’s room and get his and Hideyoshi’s attention?

Yes of course I could. I’d already tested the blunt tipped arrows and they could easily travel the distance I needed.

Could I manage not to hit Hideyoshi… or anyone else in there? Hideyoshi paced like a dervish, but Nobunaga was holding still. I also caught the flash of Mai’s light purple kimono, but she was sitting down, so she too would be easy to miss.

I would have to time things perfectly to ensure no one got hit. But, if Hideyoshi saw an arrow fly into the room, he was most likely to think it was meant to kill Nobunaga (he already saw assassins under every rock). It was possible he would alert Mouzi and Iekane that Genba was under attack. That was the last thing I wanted.

If I had a brush and ink (my country for an actual pen) I could use the paper from the kunoichi’s note and write a new one... or…

I reread the note: “Hikosane is in danger. Protect him at all costs.”

I tore the note into strips. Now I had a piece that said "In danger." Using my dagger, I cut off a length of material from my kimono. I wrapped the paper around the shaft of the blunt tip arrow, then secured it by tying the fabric around that. It would have to do.

Hideyoshi should recognize the arrow as one from Azuchi, Mai would recognize my kimono fabric.

“In danger" ought to speak for itself.

Plan in place, “all” I had to do was get the arrow through the narrow window slit.

I braced myself against the wall and took careful aim, trying to account for the slight weight of the fabric, waiting for Hideyoshi to clear the window. I would not get a practice shot – I had to get it right the first time.

I was a still as a mountain.

I listened for the wind, but it was a calm, still day.

I pulled back on the string…

Focused, picturing in my mind the arrow zipping easily through the slits…

Breathing into my belly…

And…

Now!

I loosed the arrow.

The shot was true and zipped through the tiny space (ha! The next time someone needs a shot to go through an air duct in a Death Star, they should call me). From my vantage, I could see Hideyoshi immediately throw himself in front of Nobunaga and Mai. He pulled them both below the sightlines of the window.

After a long moment, he cautiously peered through the window. I could tell from his posture the exact second he spotted the dead sentries, and beyond that, the warriors creeping through the trees.

Before I could wave to get his attention, I heard a single set of footsteps and the rattle of the lacquered armor Mozumi’s sentries wore. Was this someone simply investigating why the call to change the guard hadn’t gone out? Or did they already know? At this point, it was impossible to tell who was with Iekane, and who was not. Either way, I did not want to stick around to explain. Hopefully I had given Nobunaga and Hideyoshi enough warning to either escape or to barricade themselves inside and hold out until rescue.

Three days.

Three days for Masamune and Ieyasu to arrive with reinforcements. Until then, our small group would need to find a way to slow down Iekane’s forces and try to assist Nobunaga from the outside.

I retraced my steps along the wall to return to the cover of the trees, but the tree branch I had used to swing to the top of the wall, had, without my weight, sprung back out of reach. Climbing down the wall was my only option. I found a portion of the wall that was in deep shadow thanks to the mountain and the angle of the courtyard, and descended as carefully as I could, before letting go about halfway down to drop quietly to the soft grass.

It was about twenty meters to the cover of the forest. If I was going to be seen or caught, it would be while I was running through the patch of open land. I could cover that distance in less than five seconds. As long as no one was looking in my direction… I could manage that.

If I was lucky.

Anxious that at any moment I would hear the shout of a guard or the crack of a musket, I sprinted for the forest, my breath in my ears, and the pounding of my feet seeming loud enough to echo through the mountains.

When I was safely above ground again, clinging to the upper branches of a friendly cedar tree, it was all I could do to not wrap myself around the trunk and never let go. But… I’d made it this far. I could make it back to Mitsunari.

As quietly as I could, I crept over the men who were hunkered down throughout the forest around Genba. Although they weren’t especially loud, they weren't trying to be quiet either. Their ambient noise was enough that I was able to pass above without attracting any attention.

Once I passed the initial ring of camps, there were fewer soldiers to avoid, which made it all the more shocking when I heard the words, "--have no interest in you. I was tryin' to retrieve a runaway horse."

It was a peasant’s dialect.

It was Mitsuhide’s voice.

I froze where I was, as the voices grew louder, clearer.

"A runaway horse? Yours?" Unfamiliar voice, faint coastal accent-which would make sense for one of Iekane's vassals from Tsuruga.

In another moment Mitsuhide appeared, acting unconcerned by the fact that he was surrounded by several armed men, one of whom I recognized as one of Iekane's personal guards.

Should I try to rescue him? I knew how Mitsuhide would answer that. He would say no. I wasn’t certain he even needed rescuing. Mitsuhide was wily. Maybe he could get out of this on his own.

"Not my horse. It belongs to my master, and if I want to keep my head attached to my body, I need to get her back before he notices she's gone.” Mitsuhide made a move to leave, but the men had their swords out before he could take a step.

"Your master ... that would be Oda Nobunaga, would it not?" Iekane’s guard was neither unobservant, now stupid. "I've seen you talking with him in the stables."

Well. Hell. He might need an assist after all. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t had to assist from a tree bef--? … a wave of dizziness passed through me while in my head, there was a vision, as clear as memory of sitting in a tree, my arrow trained on a group of ronin who were menacing hapless travelers. But. Though it was clear as memory… this had never happened.

Why was it in my head?

In my distraction, I shifted forward, and the sudden change in balance rustled the tree at just the wrong moment.

At the sound, Mitsuhide’s eyes flicked upward. Though I had immediately pressed myself backward, nearly out of sight, I know he saw me. He tromped loudly on a piece of dead wood near his feet.

“Oda pays my salary, yes. A man’s got to eat.” Mitsuhide spit on the ground. "Doesn’t mean I have to like it. Or him. Wouldn’t care if I threw my lot in with you, if the pay ain’t bad.”

What?

Was Mitsuhide actually the traitor history had made him out to be?

No, that couldn’t be right. He’d seen me. If he were a traitor, he would have revealed my hiding place. Without looking again at where I was hiding, Mitsuhide made an obvious show of scratching his his nose. Was he signalling me? The nose scratch was a signal that Aki and I often used – it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch of the imagination that Mitsuhide was aware of Aki’s signals.

Message received. I didn’t like it, but Mitsuhide, for whatever reason, wanted to stay with these men. Maybe he was playing along to learn more details about Iekane’s plans and assets.

I stayed motionless on my perch, hardly taking a breath, until they moved on in the direction of the castle.

It was only after the woods were quiet again, that I realized I didn’t know if Mitsuhide had managed to contact Kyubei before he encountered Iekane’s men.

“We've got problems,” had been my blunt way to announce my return. “More problems.” Probably I should have built up to that, but my entire trek back to the camp had been a mental recitation of everything that had already gone wrong or that could go wrong.

Despite my announcement, the look that I received from Mitsunari was one of relief. “It’s been a long time since you left.”

“Mitsunari was pacing!” Hikosane looked up from where he had apparently taken over the cooking. Well. He couldn’t do any worse than Shohime who had cajun-cooked the rabbit, or Mitsunari who thought that his tea leaf stew was drinkable.

“Oh. I’m sorry … it didn’t really feel that long on my end. I was too busy with… stuff.” I explained about Mitsuhide, repeating everything I had overheard. “He knew I was in the tree, listening, so for whatever reason, he intends to stay with Iekane’s army for a while.”

"If he was with them, then he will do his best to learn as much about their assets, then destroy them from the inside until he can find a way to escape.” Mitsunari glanced down at his notebook which he had already filled with various plans. “I trust he knows what he is doing. However, I wish he had told me what he intended.”

Generally, I was less trusting than that, but there wasn't a lot we could do about Mitsuhide at this point anyway, "I don’t know if he made it to Takayama to get a message to Kyubei. Iekane's men are creeping all over the woods. He could have run into them anywhere.”

Mitsunari was silent for a long moment. “We will proceed as if he made it. Because the alternative is too bleak to consider. What is the situation at Genba?”

Otherwise known as: Okatsu delivers bad news part three. “Iekane was at the castle gates. I couldn't get near enough to personally warn Nobunaga either.”

"But... you did something didn’t you." Mitsunari stated it calmly, confident that I had figured out a plan. I wanted to bathe in that confidence.

Before I could respond to him though Hikosane asked, "Do you think that he will attack my father?"

"He might, if he thinks your father is in the way of what he wants." Honestly, I wasn’t sure if Mozumi was still alive. The fact that the sentries had been poisoned suggested that he wasn’t aware of Iekane and Yone’s plans, although I didn’t have any solid evidence of that either. I didn’t want to upset his children any more than they were already. Instead, to Mitsunari, I said, "I was able to shoot an arrow into the room where Hideyoshi, Nobunaga and Mai were. I stuck half of the ninja's note on it; the part that said 'in danger! Hopefully that will be enough of a warning."

Mitsunari’s confidence extended to Hideyoshi and Nobunaga. "They will understand. Hideyoshi will try to get Nobunaga out, or if he cannot, he will protect him with his life." I wished I had his certainty. Mitsunari must have read my expression, for he added, "I acknowledge the situation is not good, but I am hopeful we can devise a strategy to help them until Masamune and Ieyasu arrive with reinforcements.”

"Then. Let's get to work. We will be... like..." I could think of no example that he would relate to.

"Like?" He prompted me with a gentle smile.

With a sigh, I finished with the word, "Ewoks." Before he, or anyone else could ask, I hurried on to say, "they are in a story from my village. Their fighters were outnumbered. But they were in their home forest and they knew the land. They were able to use small, directly focused attacks to delay the enemy until the main force was able to destroy the enemy’s base."

"Ah, so this strategy can be titled 'the Ewok Operation.’ " Mitsunari wrote the words down in his notebook.

Sure. Why not?

"We must acquire more fighters, weapons, and tools." Mitsunari said. "The armies generally keep supplies in their rear guard. If we can capture one... or more of those, we'd be in a better position." He turned to Shohime. "Will any of your father’s vassals fight against Lady Yone, or will they assume that any instructions she gives them come from Mozumi?

Shohime frowned. "Yone is not popular. Many of my father’s vassals do not live in Genba Castle, but in manors and a garrison further down the mountain. They may not be aware of the current situation."

"I'll alert them!" Hikosane jumped to his feet and was halfway out of the clearing before Shohime grabbed the back of his haori and pulled him back. "I can do this. They'll know me."

The warning note about Hikosane’s danger was still fresh in my mind. I didn’t know where it came from or if he was still under threat, but there was no way I would be letting him go off on his own. In fact, I wouldn’t send any ten year old out into the forest, especially not at night. The sun was already setting, and it would be fully dark before he got very far. "Then I'm going with you."

“No.” Mitsunari’s prior gentleness was replace by a firm order. “We will all go.” His tone said, ‘don’t argue.’

I argued. “Hikosane and I will be faster if it’s just the two of us.”

“We split up before and lost Mitsuhide. Okatsu, I know you are strong. Capable. I do not doubt your skills. But… waiting for you to return.” He tapped his chest. “It hurts in a way that nothing ever has before.”

It’s impossible to win an argument of logic against someone’s feelings.

Hikosane led us along a narrow trail down the mountain until we reached the manor of Susumu, who Shohime assured us was loyal to the Kanamori. “He is my mother’s cousin and has no reason to follow Lady Yone’s orders.

While we waited for the gates to open to us, I looked around. The manor was small, but neatly kept up. Someone here appreciated order and, if the statues of Raijin and Fujin were any indication, had a healthy respect for the weather. But what I didn’t see, was evidence of a personal guard or a lot of vassals. Maybe Susumu would be willing to aid us… but how much aid could he afford?

Though it had gotten late, Susumu was still awake, and he was in his receiving room writing letters by the light of two lanterns. When he saw Hikosane and Shohime, he immediately bowed low. "Lord Hikosane, Princess Shohime, this is unexpected." He turned a questioning look at Mitsunari and I.

Hikosane hastily introduced me as, "This is one of Oda Nobunaga’s trusted vassals, Ishida Mitsunari, and his fiancée, Oda Okatsu. Not only is she a Princess, she’s one of Nobunaga's kunoichi."

Field promotion! (Though Nobunaga, not to mention Hideyoshi would be shocked to learned he employed a kunoichi). Hikosane knew the Mozumi vassals better than I and if they were wont to be impressed by titles and female ninjas, I was not going to argue.

Before we could get trapped in a polite small talk rabbit hole, Shohime jumped in. “Lord Susumu, we need your help. Genba is under attack.” Interestingly, I noticed she had abandoned her helpless princess act. There were no tears, no handwringing – this Shohime was all warrior.

“What?” Susumu looked from Hikosane to Shohime with confusion. “How?”

Hikosane gestured to Mitsunari, who expertly relayed the situation as only a military commander could. Susumu, nodded along, his knuckles tightening on the edge of his desk as the import of the crisis sunk in.

"How quickly can you gather my father's vassals?” Hikosane asked, once Mitsunari had finished.

Susumu frowned. "By sunrise, however the problem is few of them are left to be summoned. Your father ordered General Makino and over one hundred men to accompany the latest shipment of silver to the coast. He said he’d received credible information that the shipment had been targeted by robbers."

Damn it. The orders must have come from Iekane. Lady Yone, or maybe they had convinced Mozumi that that had been necessary. But now was not the moment to worry about that. If we couldn’t convince Susumu to help us, then we had lost before we began. "How many are left? It's unfortunate that your general has gone with the shipment although Mitsunari is an expert strategist.”

A quick smile bloomed across Mitsunari’s face at my praise before he put his ‘serious strategist’ expression back on. “If I know our resources, I can deploy them where they will be most effective. Mozumi’s vassals know the territory. Iekane’s mercenaries do not. This is to our advantage.”

"I believe there may be up to twenty vassals and an additional dozen support staff." Susumu strode into the corridor and requested a waiting page to round up every man in his household. "I'll send out messages to the others.”

As the page departed, a young woman entered the room. She bowed low to us. “Susumu, why did you not alert me that we had visitors? Lord Hikosane, Princess Shohime, I must apologize for my husband’s lack of manners.” Susumu’s wife appeared to be much younger than her spouse, but she looked at him with affection and trust.

“Lady Hana. Do not trouble yourself on our account.” Shohime again blew past the small talk. “We are not able to stay.”

After pressing a kiss on Hana’s cheek, Susumu relayed a series of household orders that Hana nodded at with enough familiarity to suggest this was not the first time he’d needed to go off to war in the middle of the night. She headed directly to a wall, where several swords were displayed, removed one, and handed it to him with the competence of a soldier.

And… I had a thought. “Lady Hana, are you much of an archer?”

Without prompting, the much-smarter-than-anyone-knew Shohime picked up where I was going. “She’s very good. As are many of the wives and daughters in the Kanamori clan.”

“How many of these wives and daughters would be willing to,” I paused, because willing wasn’t going to be enough in this era. “And, um, permitted to join us?” I glanced at Mitsunari, hoping he wasn’t upset that I had just usurped his authority.

“Trained archers would be very useful,” he agreed. “On a voluntary basis, of course.”

Susumu and his wife looked at each other, in one of those long, silent marital conversations. One that Hana apparently won, for he sighed and nodded. “If the situation is as you said, we will need them. I would trust her to defend the house, and therefore, I will trust her to help defend Genba.”

That decided, Mitsunari began to herd us out. “Thank you, Lord Susumu. We’ll leave you to make your preparations.” He turned to Hikosane, who appeared to be on the verge of pouting at being left out the recent discussions. “Do you know of an adequate location for everyone to meet?”

"Iekane’s men have the castle surrounded," I reminded Hikosane.

“I am not likely to have forgotten that.” Alright, someone has apparently taught this child sarcasm.

Hm. That someone may have been myself.

"Thirty men plus an unknown number of female archers." If he was disappointed, Mitsunari didn’t show it. "If we can capture some of their supplies, that will make their siege more difficult. We can then send out smaller groups on hit and run missions to harass Iekane's army."

We had returned to our old campsite, as Mitsunari had determined that most efficient place to meet with the Kanamori vassals was at the crossroads. Eventually, though, our base of operations would be moving to an old Takeda signal tower. Though the Takeda no longer held any territory around here, the towers still stood. Mitsunari had determined that both would be useful for our purposes. “We can use one as a line of defense for our small forces and the more hidden one as a place to keep the wounded."

My initial relief at getting the vassals dwindled. Wounded. Yes of course there would be wounded. Hopefully we'd be able to get some medical supplies when we attacked their rear guard. "We have a little while until sunrise, what would you like me to do?" It had become second nature to defer to Mitsunari in matters of military.

"Sleep. You must be exhausted by this time." He patted the ground next to him. He'd built up a small bed of leaves and spread his cloak on it. "If you won't listen to me as your fiancé, then consider it an order."

Well... I didn't like it, but I knew better than to break the chain of command. Still, technically it was Mitsuhide who was my boss and… "What are we going to do about Mitsuhide?"

"I have to trust that he knows what he is doing." Again, he patted the ground. "I need you alert later, so sleep now."

That argument made enough sense to me that I lay down as directed and closed my eyes. I didn't know if I could manage to sleep, but what Mitsunari didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. I felt him scoot closer to me, then his fingers combed through my hair the way he had that first night we were in Genba castle, when all we'd had to worry about was keeping up the act. But his hands were as strong and sure as before and I found myself relaxing under the gentle rhythm of his touch, until I drifted off...

When I woke up some time later the first thing that my conscious mind registered was the low tones of Mitsunari discussing strategy with...

Was that Sasuke's voice?

I sat up quickly, trying to shake off the specter of sleep; but the first person I saw wasn't Sasuke. Sitting just a meter away, his hands on his knees as he watched me was-

"Toshiie?!"

@bestbryn @lorei-writes @katriniac @lyds323 @briars7

#TBTMND #A mitsunari night's dream #ikemen sengoku #fanfic #ikesen mitsunari #ikesen mitsuhide #fanfiction #ikesen fanfic #ikemen sengoku fanfic #mitsunari ishida #oc: katsuko #katsuverse

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hirazuki · 6 months ago

Note

Hi! Re: the WIP folder game, please could you share more about...

Fate/Postscript

lemon balm and salvia, blue, mairon & maedhros

tsukuyomi (curious about this one bc i've also got a scene coming that mentions tsukuyomi-no-mikoto skdjas)

Hii!!

Fate/Postscript is a Fate series (TYPE-MOON) fic that follows the universe of Fate/Zero and Fate/Stay Night, and veers a little into the El-Melloi II Case Files territory. Not sure how familiar you are with this franchise (always happy to give you more details!), this is basically an OC/Sasaki Kojirō | Assassin story, because my favorite character from this franchise is, once again, a minor side-character with precious few fics to his name and needs some love nevermind that this has been languishing in my drafts since like. 2017, let's ignore that

“At any rate,” he said after a few moments, “I really do recommend that you keep your visiting hours with me late at night.” She looked over her shoulder at him, confused. He pointed to the crowds of people walking up and down the stairs. “It does not do for a young woman to appear to be talking to herself.” She cackled, loudly. “Why should I care what people think? I’m not even from around here. And besides,” she continued, after a few more swings with the sword, “some of us actually sleep at night.” “A pity,” he said, closing one eye. “When there are other things you could be engaging in.” She spun around again, attempting to take a swing at him. Before she even knew he had moved, Kojirō leapt up, drew his sword and, flicking the tip under her sword’s edge, cleanly disarmed her. Her blade went flying vertically in the air, and he caught it easily. He flipped the edge towards himself, and held it out for her to take. “Come now, allow a man a little harmless flirting.” She snorted, amused, as she took back her sword from his outstretched hand. “There is nothing harmless about you.” “Maybe so,” he conceded as he sat back down. “But I am bored, and you are the only one I converse with.”

lemon balm and salvia, blue, mairon & maedhros ... ahaha *hides face in shame* This is a tumblr writing prompt that @celebbun sent me... over a year ago... *weeps* T_T

First Age, 465 He's bleeding out. How will he go back to Angband, in such a state and with such news? Himring... Himring is not far. Closer than Angband. Perhaps... perhaps he could -- He shakes his head free of the delusion a moment later. He cannot. Even were Fëanor's eldest inclined to humor his plea after everything, his own loyalty and sense of duty will not allow him. He curls up tighter, further into the dark tree hollow, and closes his eyes and falls into fitful sleep, to thoughts of red hair and white fire.

Tsukuyomi is a Naruto fic! (this probably won't be its final title). Again, not sure how much you know about this series, but basically at one point, almost all characters are put under a virtually unbreakable illusion (the name of this technique is Infinite Tsukuyomi, hence the name of the WIP) where they are trapped in their own dreams, and they experience their perfect world as though it was their reality. We get to see a good number of these dreams, and they give us a really neat window into the supporting cast, for instance, with whom we don't necessarily spend too much time with in the main story, getting to see their hopes/fears/what makes them tick, etc. We don't see everyone's obviously, and Orochimaru's (one of my faves) tsukuyomi dream is skipped over, so this would be my take on what his ideal world would look like. I've got some ideas jotted down as to what it would include, but don't have anything actually written down yet ^^

#thanks for asking!! ♡#i hope you enjoyed the snippet of my 2017-style of writing XDD. i haven't touched that fic in ages!#i am 100% intending to finish that mairon and maedhros prompt. it just got a lot more complicated and unwieldy than anticipated #(read: we're going through the entire First Age with a fine-tooth comb)#so it's taking some time ;___;#bun if you are reading this: i think about your prompt every day. e v e r y. d a y.#my writing #hira writes tolkien #hira writes naruto #hira writes fate #fic: fate/postscript #fic: lemon balm and salvia blue

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youlikefanficdontyousquidward · 1 year ago

Text

Teeth for hire

Part one! Next

Summary: Jack's enjoying his time off at the cabin with an old friend and a new one but troubles brewing! A half vampire is at their door and looking for help.

Jack x Vampire!Reader

Kinda a continuation of this but you don't have to have read that

The months past in bliss. Jack was enjoying his time away from hunting at a little cabin he kept. Deep in the pacific northwest forests under cover of dense pines and low hanging clouds. It was nestled in a shady reserve off the beaten paths, far from any prying eyes.

There he was free to enjoy Ted's company without fear of pitchforks and torches. All the while still close enough to towns that he could pick up sushi and coffee for his big friend.

"Come on Ted! I want to get this set up before sunset." Jack called over the clearing. The back of the cabin lead into a small pine needle littered space. Far enough back from the trees that a fire pit had been dug out years earlier. Now Jack had had it set up with log chairs and warm fairy lights.

"Oh because they'll certainly fall head over heals once they've had a s'more right?" Ted grumbled back. Jack spun on his heals, almost dropping his supplies. His mouth bobbled open and closed a few time whilst his face grew uncomfortably hot.

Ted had a point, he'd been smitten since meeting their vampire friend. He'd jumped at every chance to dote on them, spoiling them with anything they'd missed out on. Turns out they were a hunter too, an old clan of vampires set on making sure their kind behaved. That being said you'd not had much time for fun and were relishing in it now.

The sun tipped bellow the hills and trees, casting a last dim light through the forest. The night sky was awake and stars began to twinkle over head. The cabin door opened and you shuffled your way out into the crisp night.

You were thrilled by the sight ahead. Fairy lights lit, a bonfire and your new friends roasting marshmallows. The sleep shook off you quickly as you made your way to them. You grinned widely as you took a seat by Jack. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't grown especially fond of your werewolf.

He'd been hesitant to allow you to help but after the first months escape you'd proven useful. Since then you'd been on watch for him during the full moons. Spending those nights by his cage and the next mornings helping him whilst it'd weakened him.

He was amazing, kind, thoughtful, just all around the kind of company you'd been craving. He didn't even wince away when your smile revealed more fang than intended. Just warming your heart again with another goofy grin.

Ted grumbled amused ahead of you. Despite your time together it hadn't helped you learn to understand him. Though you'd greatly improved at understanding the tone of his speech.

"What?" You laughed with him, wondering what had him so amused.

"Oh it's nothing." Jack interjected, coughing. You frowned at him before taking your flaming marshmallow from the fire.

"Oh come on! You actually get to understand him! Least you can do is share?" You nudged a shoulder into Jack. Ted laughed again shifting his hand to gesture at Jack.

"No, no, he's just making fun of me!" Jack huffed. You laughed nudging against him again, Jack smiled and knocked you back.

"Well I'm sure it was very funny. You know one of these days I going to figure it out too." You boasted. Ted grumbled appreciatively and you went about setting your marshmallow on fire again.

The night wore on and you'd made your way through most of the bag. You didn't really need to eat anymore but it was nice to try and fun to play with them. Ted had set up his old record player and was now playing some old swing music.

"Wait how old is Ted?" You asked Jack. He hummed raising his head from his s'more.

"Oh he was born in the 60s I think? Why?" He smiled. You jumped to your feet rushing over to Ted. He turned to you as you gripped both of his hands.

"I'm older than you!!" You cheered as you excitedly jumped ahead of him. Ted grumbled something that sounded like a jab and his clawed hand took yours. He spun you before pulling you back. It'd been a long time since you'd danced but you were enthusiastic. You leapt and twirled like you remembered seeing in dance halls, laughing wildly.

Ted's claws let you go and you went flying, landing in a crouch. He looked away into the woods distracted so you turned to Jack. You gave a mock curtsy before extending him a hand. He chuckled but rose from his chair to come to you.

At that moment you caught a scent in the air, spinning back to where Ted still stared out into the gloom. Jack joined you at your shoulder and sniffed the air.

"Strange... it smells almost like..." Jack was cut off when you shoved him to the ground. A silver blade now embedded itself in the dirt where he'd stood. Jack scrambled into a low stance, preparing to fend off this attacker.

The man strode out of the darkness, katana sheathed and cloaked in darkness. Jack made to move but your arm whipped out in front of him. Confused he looked to you but your face was calm. The man kept coming forward, sunglasses perched on a handsome face and leather coat billowing in the breeze.

You stepped forward placing a gentle hand on Ted's arm to calm him. Your old acquaintance reached the edge of the fire light, face stern but without the air of threat you'd seen on him.

"Evening Blade."

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

Jack didn't like this. He didn't like this guy in his living room, didn't like the way he touched his things, didn't like his dirty boots on his rugs. Worst he didn't like the way he looked at you.

At least Ted seemed equally put off by this man. Choosing to stay rooted in the corner, following him with piercing red eyes. It wasn't exactly friendly the way he looked at you. More like he was sizing you up for something. If you noticed you didn't care instead making yourself comfortable in the living room.

"So what do we owe the pleasure to Eric?" You asked. Eric rounded the room finally settling in the opposite sofa to yours. Jack stayed leaning against the door. This guy smelt like a vampire too but off somehow.

"This a nice place Y/n, you retiring?" He said.

"More like taking a break." You answered. "Not that I don't love your company but please? What is this about?" You probed. Jack suppressed a curl in his lip, he didn't like this guys tone. Nor the way he could smell anxiety begin to roll off of you.

"Your sire s' been spotted, thought you'd be keen to take him down." Blade said, keeping his eyes fixated on you. Jack didn't miss the way you'd suddenly tensed, the anxiety spiking immediately.

A sire? Sure he was aware of how vampires operated or at least the gist of it. Vampire bites you, you turn, well unless your already something else. Sire was just the term for who made you. So why was your sire so troubling to you.

"Need your help on this one Y/n." Blade sighed. You chuckled lightly at this, dropping your head before meeting his eyes again.

"No you don't." You smirked.

"No, I don't." Blade grinned back at you. "Still I like my chances better with you." He admitted. You groaned rubbing your forehead. Jack came forward, moving to stand just over your shoulder. He kept his eyes on the other man dipping to speak to just you.

"You wouldn't be alone, cariño..." Jack whispered.

"I can't ask you to come." You turned your head suddenly, meeting his eyes just inches from you. Jack flushed at the proximity but stayed in place.

"You don't have to." He breathed. A slap of leather on leather startled you both back. Jack jumped away as Blade rose from his chair and headed towards the door.

"I'll meet you in town." He said before pausing in front of Ted and pointing up at him. "He can't come."

#jack russell x reader #werewolf by night #my fics #blade #ted

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finitevoid · 1 year ago

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HI BLAKE 💕 I just got in from the theatre so I'm a bit late BUT some prompts for you (Descendants or TWST or even OC, whatever speaks to your soul): 1. the light we strayed from, 12. sunlight sadness, 16. when the trees sleep 25. paper thin reality (no pressure to write all these ofc, just take what vibes <3)

HI SPARROW don't apologize for being late there was no pressure to respond in the first place. also what did you see at the theater. Anyway I went with TWST mostly because it lives in my brain at the moment.

the light we strayed from

"Shit," Silver hisses, jerking his thumb in surprise. He examines his hand with a cold sort of calmness, watching as a blot of red appears on the pad of his thumb. He observes the cut quietly, a strange fascination in his eyes. He doesn't appear to be in pain; then again, Lilia can't recall Silver vocalizing pain since he reached adolescence.

It was sort of unsettling, watching him spar with the equivalently aged Sebek. They would tussle and fight, and when Sebek won, Silver would stand tall, bruises shining purple in the light. But when Silver won, Sebek would sit on his rump and cry until Lilia or Malleus graced him with a healing spell.

"Goodness me," Lilia says, pressing a theatrical hand to his chest. "My little boy? Swearing?"

"Please, father," his beleaguered son sighs, pulling out his magical pen. He taps the bleeding hand twice, and then the skin is knitting itself back together.

Lilia observes as Silver hooks his pen back into his belt and sets about washing the excess blood from his skin. "That was probably the first spell I ever taught you, wasn't it?"

"Yes, to help with my training," Silver replies absently, distracted by getting soap underneath his fingernails. The running tapwater almost drowns out his voice.

"No," Lilia says, a little sharp. "It had nothing to do with your training."

Silver shuts off the water to turn around and raise an eyebrow at Lilia. "What? No? Sebek and I would use it after sparring, remember? We had to learn it so we would be allowed to use real swords."

Lilia smiles a little, because that's what Lilia does when the world gets a little too complicated for their little family. Lilia swings himself up onto the counter beside his son. It makes him taller than him, again; it felt like the blink of an eye, the time it took for Silver to go from tiny and toddling to grown and towering.

"I taught it to you when you were very, very young," he taps Silver on the nose, who startles, blinking at the offending finger, "because you kept sneaking out of my house and going off gallivanting through the woods. I was so worried you were going to get hurt," he sets a hand on Silver's head, who ducks a little, submitting to the affection. "But everytime I found you, you were talking to the birds."

I wonder where that little boy went, he thinks, but does not say. He knows. That little boy was lost in the grain and grooves of a sword.

2. sunlight sadness

“I miss the sun,” Ruggie sighs wistfully, tipping his face towards the faux sky of the Savanaclaw dorm. He’s splayed out on the sand, dressed in his dorm uniform, sans the boots.

“What are you talking about?” Jack asks, staring at him incredulously. “This is the sunniest dorm in the school. We don’t even have that shaded awning Scarabia has,” he’s baffled. The Savanaclaw dorm is a desert— magically made or not. It’s modeled after the Sunset Savanna, in everything from its hot sand to its palmy plants to its scorching afternoons. Sometimes Jack feels like the only member of the dorm from somewhere where it’s actually cold.

“It’s not the same.” Ruggie says, with a sarcastic sort of finality. His eyes are shut and his face is stil pointed up, letting the sunlight drip onto his cheeks.

“It’s the sun.”

“No, it’s not.” He gestures widely with an arm. “It’s magic.”

“It feels like the sun to me.”

“Magic has a smell,” Ruggie tells him, opening his eyes. He curls his knees up to himself, and he sets his chin on top of them. It makes him look extraordinarily small. “It has a taste. A tang, really. If one of the dorms was snowy,” he continues, “wouldn’t you be able to tell the difference?”

Jack shifts in place, his silence conceding Ruggie’s point. With a sigh, he sits next to him, crossing his arms. He tilts his head up towards the sun, and let’s it cover him the way it’s covering Ruggie. It still doesn’t feel right.

“Have you ever been to the Savanna?” Ruggie asks. He’s setting his cheek on his knee, blinking inquisitive eyes at Jack.

He looks at him out of the corner of his eye. “Why would I have?”

Ruggie points to his ears. Then, he points to Jack’s. Jack smacks Ruggie’s hand out of the air. “I know that. You can’t possibly think all Beastmen live in the Savanna.”

Ruggie shrugs. “It just seems like a shame, is all.” He turns away, and then all Jack can see is the wavy poof of his hair, covering his profile. “You actually like Leona, and you aren’t even from the Savanna. Maybe if you were…” he’s quiet. “Maybe I should stop talking.” He chuckles.

“I wonder a lot why the mirror put me here,” Jack replies, unsettled. “But I think it’s because of him.”

“Maybe,” Ruggie concedes. “Maybe.”

I’ll do the other two in a few, thank you for the prompts, Sparrow <3

#my writing*#twisted wonderland #twst Silver #lilia vanrouge #ruggie bucchi #jack howl

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theladycarpathia · 2 years ago

Text

Celebration

Prompt: Steve Harrington’s childhood tree-house

Billy begins to laugh as he sees where they’re headed.

“Seriously, Harrington?” he asks, somewhat gleefully, tipping his head back to stare upwards into the trees. “This is where we’re going?”

Steve heaves the basket up and tries not to slip on the damp grass in the dark. It’s fucking heavy and as the birthday boy, Billy’s carrying nothing but lube and an open can of beer. Steve’s lucky that they managed to skirt around the pool without falling in head first. Or Billy pushing him in.

“I know it’s not exactly where you thought for your eighteenth,” Steve says hesitantly, because it’s not what Steve had fucking planned either. But his parents were home, and even though they’re out for dinner right now, it would be just Steve’s luck to be balls deep just as they arrive through the front door.

So plan B - Steve’s old tree-house, with a picnic basket, a thick blanket, and some lights. He’s going to give his boyfriend some romance on his fucking birthday if it’s the last thing he does.

“But with my folks home, I had to find another option. And the quarry isn’t that special and I know we can't really go out given…” Steve trails off, not wanting to even mention Neil’s name on Billy’s day. But Billy just grins, an eerie flash of white in the bright moonlight.

“It’s cool, Harrington,” he drawls and Robin asked once if it was weird that Billy often calls him that. But it’s not. It’s just Billy and something about the way that Billy says it, all low and hungry, makes Steve’s stomach dip every time.

He didn’t tell her that he prefers it this way. It makes the lines easier for when they have to pretend that they don’t mean what they are to each other. That Billy only uses his name in quiet, dark spaces, pressed into Steve’s bare skin. When Steve’s name is less like a tease and more like a prayer.

“Just wondering how you can call this a tree-house,” Billy continues and Steve flushes.

“You think my old man was going to let me have some shitty thing put together in a weekend?” he asks, even though that’s what he thought he’d get when he was a kid. Something that they’d put together and maybe Steve’s dad would have to spend time together with him for once.

But no. Men came and built something more akin to a wooden fortress up in the oak right at the back of the Harrington’s yard. Steve’s dad didn’t even look at it when it was done.

Steve is going to fuck Billy in that tree-house and it brings him more than a little satisfaction.

“Your dad is a dick,” Billy comments, before he bounds the last few feet to the base of the tree and the faintly swinging rope ladder. Steve nudges him out of the way before he can begin to climb.

“I know it’s your birthday but can I go first?” he says, getting a good grip on the basket. Thank God he put the blanket and shit up there earlier because slipping and breaking something is not the cool move he’s trying to make.

Billy dramatically bows and takes a step back.

Billy has no fucking patience because he’s right behind Steve up the ladder. Steve only just has time to drop the basket down and flick on the Christmas lights he’d strung up earlier. He’s just beginning to light the assorted candles with the lighter when Billy’s head appears through the hatch.

It’s worth it to see the look on his face.

“Okay, I take it back,” Billy says, staring around. Because it’s a fucking Harrington effort, it’s suitably furnished as well - beanbags that are a little musty, a table in the corner, a small shelf of Steve’s old games. Billy picks up one of the toy cars on the table and flicks it’s wheels. “This is cool.”

Steve grins, setting down the candle. There’s a suitably atmospheric glow now, the flickering warmth of the candles, the twinkles of the old Christmas lights. There’s the big red picnic blanket that Steve stole out of the attic and it must have been one of his mom’s random purchases, because they’ve never been for a picnic. He padded it out with a few strewn cushions, and a blanket from his room. It’s too cold to stay here all night but Steve doesn’t want cold air on his bare ass after.

Steve pulls up the ladder - his parents barely come into the garden but better safe than sorry - and closes the hatch. They’re locked away in their own private world for a few hours.

Billy drops down onto the blanket and there’s something strange about his expression. They’ve only been dating six months but Steve knows that look. So he just opens up the basket and begins pulling out the food: tiny sausages, potato salad, fancy cheeses…you know. Stuff that won’t matter so much if they get distracted halfway through. Billy’s predictable. They never usually make it the whole evening before they fool around.

Steve digs out the two plastic glasses and the bottle of champagne with a flourish. His parents probably won’t notice it missing from their cabinet. If they haven’t yet noticed the vodka that he replaced with water, they sure as hell won’t notice this.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Billy says quietly, as Steve carefully tugs at the cork. Steve winces as the sound echoes through the night and he licks the foam from his hand before he begins to pour.

“You only turn eighteen once,” he says, because he knows how hard this is for Billy. It’s not like anyone really makes an effort in the Hargrove house, although Max tries. But she’s only thirteen and her birthday contribution was a cupcake and a mix-tape.

Steve doesn’t feel like he’s doing enough anyway. It’s pilfered champagne and a set of new candles, borrowed rugs and lights, an impromptu picnic in the middle of March. Honestly, the only bit where Steve feels like he’s really contributing is later, when he can carefully take Billy apart piece by piece.

He hands Billy a glass and holds his own up. “Happy birthday,” he says, gently clicking their glasses together. He desperately wants to say more but he keeps it in for now. Billy’s always better at taking compliments in the afterglow.

Billy offers him a wavering smile before tipping the glass back.

“Shit,” Billy mutters, staring at the half empty glass like he’s had some sort of religious experience. Steve hides his smile.

They eat, while Steve frequently tops up the champagne. Billy is gorgeous in the dim light and it makes it hard to focus when Billy licks mayonnaise off his bottom lip. When he sucks on a carrot stick is the moment that Steve knows that he’s doing it on purpose.

“Okay, do you want to have sex now?” Steve sighs, unable to ignore the heat in his belly or the way that Billy’s eyes carefully flick up every so often to make sure that Steve has noticed.

Billy grins, all teeth and impatience, and shoves the paper plate aside.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he says lasciviously and tugs off his shirt. He doesn’t even wait for Steve to take his sweater off before he’s kissing him, pressing Steve down into the rug.

Steve lets him, willingly pinned under Billy’s body while they kiss. He can feel the hard line in Billy’s jeans already and he wonders what has Billy so keyed up. It can’t be down to frustration - they saw each other only yesterday, parking the Camaro up by the quarry, their go to space when Steve’s house isn’t safe. Steve had shucked his jeans and climbed into the backseat, letting Billy sit over him. Actually fucking in the backseat isn’t that comfortable so Steve had brought lube, dribbled it over his hand and their dicks, sliding them both together, while Billy held onto Steve’s shoulders with his eyes closed. It had been perfect, watching every flutter of his eyelashes, the desperate little pants from his parted lips. Billy was so gorgeous and Steve had dragged it out, every slow flick of his wrist, his free hand digging half-moon imprints into Billy’s hip. They don’t often do this and the novel experience of just rubbing against each other made everything seem heightened and hazy.

The memory of Billy’s groan as he came over Steve’s fingers is enough to have Steve flip Billy over. He bends over to kiss the annoyed look from Billy’s face, his hands quickly working the buttons on Billy’s jeans.

“It’s your birthday,” Steve reminds him, tugging down the denim and Billy’s boxers in one easy motion. Billy looks a little stunned to be lying there in his socks, before a pleased grin comes across his face and he hurries to strip those too.

When he’s lounging back, fully naked on the blanket, one arm tucked under his head, Steve sits back on his heels to admire him. His angular wrists. The firm planes of his stomach. Dick flushed a pretty red against miles of beautiful golden skin.

Billy makes him feel breathless every single time.

And Billy knows it too, because he smirks and widens the spread of his legs. An open invitation.

“Like you said, it’s my birthday,” Billy says smugly. “Hop to it, babe.”

But Steve doesn’t. Not this time. He traces the lines of Billy’s hips and stomach muscles with his tongue. He presses his mouth to the flesh of Billy’s thigh. He runs his hands across every bit of skin he can reach while he swallows down around Billy’s dick. He wants Billy to be overwhelmed and rapturous and loved.

When he reaches the lube, Billy is already flushed and on the verge of begging. Steve slicks up his fingers, nothing with amusement that he’s still half dressed. He slides in his fingers slowly, pushing Billy to the absolute limit as he fucks him. Billy scrabbles for purchase on the rug, his back arching as Steve hits just the right angle.

“Baby, please,” Billy whispers, sound completely fucked out. Steve’s been very careful to make sure that Billy doesn’t get too close to coming- no sense in the fun being over too early.

Steve stills his hand, leaving his fingers buried inside while he stares at Billy. The tension is razor tight, confusion and lust flickering over Billy’s face. Steve gets it - he’s never been like this before. This devoted, this intense, this kind of focus purely on Billy. He’s barely even noticed the strain against his own jeans which is probably a good thing.

Steve carefully removes his fingers, his dick twitching at the desperate little whimper that Billy makes as he does so. He removes his clothes slowly, making sure that Billy watches every step as he shrugs off his t-shirt, his jeans, and hooking his fingers into his underwear. The feel of his lube-slick hand around his dick nearly does him in and it’s only the look in Billy’s eyes - and the promise that something more pleasurable is on offer - that keeps him going.

Neither of them make a sound when Steve slides in - it’s almost too intense for that. Billy winds his arms around Steve’s back and Steve captures his open mouth for a kiss. He doesn’t move, not just yet. He would freeze time like this, if he could. It’s so completely perfect that Steve feels like he’s being crushed with the weight of it. The pressure, the expectations, are always there and the thought that at some point he’s going to fuck it up is like a constant specter at his back. That he’s going to say something stupid or insensitive, or Billy will need support in a way that he doesn’t know how to give and Steve will lose the best thing he has.

And the worst future is one where Billy just…leaves. Steve knows that he’s bound to Hawkins in a way that Billy just isn’t. That Steve won’t be reason enough to stay.

Billy’s eyelashes flutter every time Steve thrusts in, his mouth open in a helpless pant. Steve hates that Billy’s quiet in bed, too many years of having to train himself to keep silent. Every little moan or broken sound of Steve’s name feels like a triumph and Steve longs for the day where Billy can scream all he wants.

Normally Billy’s a greedy fuck, rocking back against Steve like a demanding brat, but today he lets Steve set the pace. And Steve does, deep and slow, determined to drag out every last second. He wants to keep this feeling going, the taste of Billy’s mouth, the pull of Billy’s body around him, the drag of Billy’s leaking dick against his belly.

But the end is inevitable and when Billy finally sighs his name into his skin, Steve is helpless against following him.

They lie on the rug, sweat and come cooling on their skin until they start to shiver. Steve reaches past Billy’s head for the blanket he had prepared and tugs it over them. Billy’s eyes are closed, breathing slowly and Steve curls up against him. He wonders if Billy’s falling asleep until an arm winds around his back to tug him even closer.

“Thanks,” Billy murmurs sleepily against his hair. Steve presses a kiss to Billy’s salty cheek. It’s not like it was hard. As far as he’s concerned, Billy deserves the world.

“Happy birthday,” Steve says, because he’s not quite ready for the words yet, no matter how much he feels them. Billy’s not ready for them yet either, despite his warm eyes, the gentle stroking against Steve’s hip.

But when Billy shifts in Steve’s arms to pull the cupcakes out of the basket, gleefully shoving half of one straight into his mouth, Steve feels like maybe this will be the first birthday of many that they spend together.

#harringrove #harringroveweek #billy's birthday bonanza #it's billy's birthday!#ending on a happy one #steve harrington #billy hargrove #I need to add these to ao3

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