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gloomwitchwrites · 1 year ago

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Dark Knowledge: Part Two

Miraak x Hermaeus Mora x Female Dragonborn Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): brief blood, body horror, horror elements, alien / eldritch anatomy, suggestive themes

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Part Two of Dark Knowledge

The Dragonborn and Hermaeus Mora make a deal.

Part One // Part Three

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // dark knowledge masterlist

Sticky. Stringy.

When you blink—or try to—it’s thick, as if someone smeared honey over your eyelids while you slept. You try again, but whatever covers your eyes resists the pull. Shaking your head, you attempt to throw off this shade. Perhaps it is something tangible that simply needs to be dislodged.

No luck. It stays.

Slowly, you reach out, lightly pressing around your eyes. Immediately, just along your cheekbone, you discover a gluey substance. You recoil, but your fingers stay, stuck in the muck. A distressed whimper leaves your lips as reality starts to set in.

You are in Hermaeus Mora’s realm. You are alone. You are captured. A fox in a cage. And you are unable to see.

Panic sets in and then you start clawing at the sticky substance, nearly growling like a feral animal in an attempt to remove the gunk from around your eyes.

“Stop,” comes a masculine voice. It isn’t deep, but on the higher side, and the tone indicates concern. You immediately pause, chest heaving, waiting for this person to speak again.

They do not.

Licking your lips, you tilt your head in the direction in which you think the voice came from.

“Who are you?” you ask hesitantly.

A long moment of silence follows. It stretches, and the uninterrupted quiet chills you to the bone. Sorrow and despair threads through your nerves, but then the voice comes again, this time much closer.

“Don’t rub it off. It’ll help.”

You clench your fist, the muscles in your arm tighten with the anticipation of throwing a punch. Even though you’re blinded, you want answers. “Who are you?” you ask again.

“I am but a servant.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” you growl.

Of all the strangeness you’ve experienced while in Hermaeus Mora’s realm, the silence is the oddest. Even though you cannot see where you are, there is no sound other than what you and this man make. There is no dripping water, no chirping of bugs, or the squeak of rats. Nothing. Just absolute silence that fills the space between breaths.

“My name is irrelevant,” comes his reply. “And it has been lost to time. I could not tell you.”

He is close, but you’re not sure how close. This man—this servant—is near enough that he doesn’t need to go above soft speaking. Which means, he might be in range of your hand. You’ll have to play this right. Keep him talking. Rely on other senses.

“All this knowledge around you and you don’t know your own name?” you mock, voice dripping with cruelty. The idea is absurd. How could you dwell in a realm like this with no knowledge of who you are?

“In order to do my work for my master, I had to relinquish the ties I had to the mortal realm,” he answers, as if it’s so simple.

Slowly, you draw your hand away from your face and to the floor. Rock. You shift a bit and then frown. Your feet are bare. You didn’t notice before. Reaching out, you grab your foot, and then your naked ankle. Horror seizes you as you quickly take note of your body.

You make it to mid-thigh before you find clothing. From there, you realize that what you have on is just a sack. Your armor and weapons are gone. The fact that you’re in different clothes means someone stripped you. Someone’s gaze was on your naked body.

Before you even have the chance to demand where your stuff is, the man answers as if already knowing your question. “It’s all somewhere safe. I saw to it myself.”

Fury burns in your veins. It doesn’t matter that you might be in an actual cage. You’re ready to rage.

“You put your hands on me,” you growl, venom seeping into every word. This man will die for touching you.

“Earthly needs are unimportant to me. They have been since I entered my master’s realm.” He says it blandly, like he cannot believe you’d even imagine such a thing. “You are His guest here, and will remain unspoiled unless he wills it.”

Unspoiled. As if you’re a piece of ripe fruit ready for the knife.

“What a benevolent master,” you mutter, seeking out with your fingers, your hands slowly sliding across the floor.

The man hums softly in agreement. “The paste on your eyes needs a bit more time.”

So far, you’ve only found more stone beneath your palms. “What is it for?” You check both ankles, wrists, and neck. There are no chains or restraints.

“To curb the madness.”

You freeze. “The what?”

“Hermaeus Mora’s influence starts to take effect the moment you enter his realm. For those of us who serve him, the influence is desired, but Lord Mora suspected this is something you did not wish for.”

Slowly, you drop your hands into your lap. Master Neloth mentioned black spots in the eyes as a sign of Hermaeus Mora’s influence in the body. Perhaps this is what the paste prevents.

Even though you wish to slit this man’s throat, you restrain some of the rising violence, opting for a more civil tone. “That is generous. Thoughtful.” The words taste foul on your tongue.

“Lord Mora understands many things.”

You don’t answer him. Instead, you sit in the silence, awaiting your opportunity.

Time passes, and you have no idea for how long. But the stranger eventually speaks again. “I do believe it is time to remove the paste.” There is soft jingling, and then the creak of hinges.

So, you are in a cage.

This stranger claims you are a guest of Hermaeus Mora, but guests are not kept in cages or stripped of their clothes. The weapons are understandable. You can forgive that but not the sack that drapes your body.

What was it that Hermaeus Mora said on the bridge just before you slipped into unconsciousness?

You are in my realm now, Dragonborn. Apocrypha will be your home. You will converse with me and I cannot wait to know your secrets.

What does the Prince of Fate mean by that? Will the two of you actually talk? Or will he pull your memories from your mind, turning you into one of his followers? The very idea makes your skin crawl. Autonomy is important, and though you’ve completed many quests and tasks for some of Mora’s siblings, none of them will truly be able to claim you in the afterlife.

You are Dovahkiin. After you are gone, your soul will dwell within the Hall of Valor in Sovngarde. But if you are trapped here, in Hermaeus Mora’s realm, will your death not ascend your soul to Shor’s mead hall?

You’ll need to play along for the time being. An opportunity will present itself, and you will escape this wretched place with its sickly green sky and tentacle-infested inky waters.

“Crawl forward,” instructs the stranger. “The door is a bit low.”

The act of moving toward this man on your hands and knees is degrading, but you do it anyway, reaching out to get a sense of the cage that you’re in. This servant of Mora is right. The door is low, and you nearly knock your head on it but prevent yourself from doing so when your raised hand clips the top of it.

“Very good. You’re out now. I’ll start cleaning around your eyes.” His voice is calm, almost fatherly, and it only makes you want to claw his eyes out. Why is he trying to comfort you? Did Hermaeus Mora tell him to? Does the Prince of Fate want you soft and compliant?

The moment the stranger’s cold hands touch your face, you lunge. It’s more of a reaction than anything, the instinctual need to protect yourself burning like a hot iron. Your hands wrap around his throat and squeeze.

The two of you fall together, and then you’re bashing his head against the floor in sharp blows that bring the scent of blood to your nostrils.

It’s over quickly. Not because you kill him, but because you’re prevented from doing so.

Long, thin fingers with sharp nails grab at your arms and effortlessly toss you aside. You roll into it, landing on your knees. You pivot, bare your teeth, ready to lunge again.

It doesn’t matter that you cannot see. You’ve fought in true dark before and yet came out alive. This is no different.

A rippling burst of air slams into you. It’s not enough to send you to the ground but you do recoil from the sudden blow. Another crashes into you, and then another. This time, you do start to bend.

Throwing your arms over your head, you tuck in and take it. Perhaps it’s only seconds of time, but they eventually recede, and then you’re shaking. You feel drained, as if your very soul has slowly been extracted from you through a small hole. The energy within you is limited, but you still have something none of them can take away.

Your Thu’um.

Rising to one knee, you inhale sharply, ready to unleash an unrelenting force of power. The moment you exhale—the moment your lips shape the words—you choke. All breath is snatched from you. Lungs shriveled. Unable to take in oxygen.

Panic spikes, and you try again, only for you to choke harder.

“I advise against it. You’ll only hurt yourself.” It’s the man, but his voice is distant and shaky, an almost moan of pain when he speaks.

You don’t care if this act won’t allow you to speak again. Your Thu’um is your lifeblood. It is the thing that beats underneath your skin alongside your heart.

This next attempt chokes you to the point that your hands come up and claw at your throat. It is agonizing, a squeeze so tight that even with the paste over your eyes, you still feel the formation of tears.

You do not try again, and the invisible grip on your throat eases.

You collapse to the floor, chest heaving. Those thin, long fingers with sharp nails curl around your forearms. There is no strength left in you to resist this time. You’re lifted off the floor, guided to your knees, and then human hands are on your face, a damp cloth moving slowly over your eyelids.

“Stay still,” comes the voice, and it is not the same man who you’ve been talking to. It’s a different one.

Slowly, the stickiness fades, replaced with a cool dampness from the cloth.

“It is done.”

You blink, and this time you see the black stone beneath your knees. Your eyelids flutter, and your gaze shifts from the floor to the person standing before you. They’re bent at the waist, a damp cloth balled up in one hand.

The man before you, who is old enough to be your father, peers into your face. He is completely bald and wears simple black robes that stop at his feet. The signs of madness that Master Neloth spoke of is evident. There are dark spots in the whites of his eyes, but that isn’t the only unsettling aspect.

The dark spots aren’t perfect circles, more blob-like in appearance, just like Hermaeus Mora. The dots that linger near the edges of his eyes seep outward onto his skin. From there, they form black lines, like dead veins under his skin. They stretch away to create little webs across his flesh.

He smiles, showing his teeth. They are stained with ink.

You immediately recoil but the man doesn’t seem to care that you’ve drawn back from him. The sudden movement startles whomever is holding you. The sound they make is not human. You twist enough to glance over your shoulder and find one of those creatures you’ve slain.

Its face tentacles flare slightly in agitation.

“You killed several Seekers before you were subdued. They’re not particularly happy to see that you’re alive. Or that their master spared you.”

The corner of your lip curls as you turn back to the man.

Now that the paste is gone from your eyes, the room you’re being held in becomes clearer. Just behind you is the cage. It’s all gnarled black metal. Embedded into the metal are jagged spikes that jut outward. It’s clear that they are meant to keep things out rather than the captive individual inside.

The room itself is relatively small. The walls are books including the support pillar in the center of the room. Within the ceiling are holes, and through it, you distantly see Apocrypha’s green sky. There is no door but an open archway.

At the stranger’s feet, but off to the right, is the man you choked. His eyes are vacant, staring up at the ceiling, a halo of blood crowns his head. The new stranger’s gaze follows yours and then he sighs when he lands on the dead man.

A Seeker floats in through the open archway and heads for the dead man. Using its four hands, it grabs hold of the man, dragging him out, the blood smearing across the stone.

You swallow, and your saliva sticks in your throat. “What happened to my Voice?”

The bald man in black robes bows slightly, and then straightens. “Welcome to Apocrypha, Dragonborn. I am one of the endless Ciphers of the Eye. Lord Mora asked that we look after you until we bring you at his summons.” He steps around your question.

“Why can’t I use my Thu’um,” you prompt, wanting an answer. You’re far more willing to cooperate if he’d just be reasonable. “Have you taken it?”

“Taken it?” he asks with a hint of surprise. “No. The Prince of Fate cannot steal your Thu’um. That is a gift bestowed upon you by another, and is not in his realm of control.”

“And yet, you silence me.”

The man inclines his head. “He did. But it is temporary. I assure you.” That does not bring you any comfort. “I am to escort you to him.”

You don’t need to ask to know who him is. “Now?”

“Indeed.”

You lick your lips and find only dryness. “Where are we going?”

“One of the many scriptoriums of Apocrypha. It is where we prepare the Black Books for our master. It is rewarding work. Few ever witness it from an…outside perspective.”

From the open archway, two more Seekers appear, mandibles flaring.

The Cipher bows slightly to the Seekers and takes a step back. “You will not be chained if you behave on our journey. It is not far. This I promise.”

He could promise you your release and you still wouldn’t believe him. Without your Thu’um, you’re almost powerless. While there are magic basics you understand and can control with ease, you are no mage. This man, this Cipher, may wield magic, and you have nothing to defend yourself with other than your fists.

You are vulnerable, and the bareness of this reality is tar that sticks to the skin.

Instead of pushing the issue, you comply reluctantly, following the Cipher through the archway as three Seekers drift behind you.

The walk to the scriptorium is short. The Cipher was honest about that, and you appreciate it even if you’re hesitant to do so. You also remain unrestrained, and no chains are brought.

The entrance to the scriptorium is a wide yet short bridge with two archways. One is rather simple, while the other is more intricate, narrower, and the black rock has a green glow deep within in. When you pass under it, you enter one of the many massive towers you noticed when you first entered Apocrypha.

This entryway is large, the ceiling of which juts upward sharply. From the ceiling, black tentacles hang, swaying softly, their suckers pulsing with a faint green glow. There is a simple stone pathway and it’s covered in worn, rotting paper. On either side of this stone path is that inky black water.

It’s completely still. Silent. And that is somehow even more ominous than the water that roils outside this hall.

At the end of this small path is a massive double door, the symbol of Hermaeus Mora carved into the center. The tower itself is built from stone and an endless number of books. You’re not sure if the books are the wall or the stone is. It’s all fused together.

Your small herd moves toward the doors, and as you approach, they start to open. The sound the doors makes as they open is awful. There is no creaking of metal hinges or wood, but a wet, slippery sound, like you’re trying to hold onto a wiggling eel.

As you, your guide, and your guards pass through, you’re spit out into an open atrium. You’re outside again, but it’s clear that won’t be for long. From the atrium are multiple bridges and pathways, all of which connect to various towers.

In the center of the atrium is a stone statue of a person seated on a throne. Their hands rest on the arms of the throne, but their head is covered by an open Black Book as if the tome has suctioned itself to their face.

This image calls back those brief moments before the Black Book sucked you into Apocrypha. Darkness bled from the binding only for tentacles to follow, wrapping around you tightly to drag you into Hermaeus Mora’s realm.

All around the statue are more books. Some are neatly stacked while others appear tossed. But there is little time to linger. You’re only in this atrium for a minute.

The Cipher leads you on, taking a bridge to the left. When you enter this tower, you arrive in what has to be a workshop. Your guide mentioned that the scriptoriums are places where Black Books are made, and that few outsiders ever see the process.

You are an outsider, witnessing the creation happen in real time.

Seekers and Ciphers work together. There is a mechanical-like efficiency to the whole process. The two groups work in almost near silence, as if their communications are all done internally, almost like a hive of worker bees.

There are vats of bubbling ink and some that might contain a clear glue. All the mortal helpers are bald and it is a varied mix of men and women across multiple races.

“This way,” murmurs your guide, and the two of you branch off into a much smaller room.

This one is still littered with books, all stacked high and part of the architecture. But here, it’s warmer, with actual lanterns hanging from various points around the room. The ceiling is fairly low, and there are several stone tables, all of which have stacks of books on them.

“Leave us,” comes a deep, primordial voice.

Hermaeus Mora swells into existence before you. He is not nearly as large or imposing as on the bridge, but he isn’t any less creepy.

The Cipher bows deeply, his bald head nearly touching the stone floor. He keeps his eyes turned downward as if looking on Hermaeus Mora is a privilege. He backs out of the room slowly, never turning his back from his master. The Seekers follow suit.

Hermaeus Mora floats nearer, and his form shrinks a bit more. The large eye in the center blinks slowly.

“Are you rested?”

“One cannot rest in a cage,” you snap.

The eye blinks again, followed by an amused chuckle. “A necessary precaution.”

You run your tongue over your teeth and frown. “Are you afraid of me, Prince of Fate?”

The low rumble from Hermaeus Mora is surprisingly human-like. “I’ve watched you for some time, Dovahkiin. The lure of Apocrypha is too great to ignore. Not when it is tied to your fate.”

“Then why do you wish to talk? It sounds like you have all the answers.”

“You are Dragonborn, like my servant Miraak. You are following in his footsteps, seeking power that is your birthright.”

Miraak. So, he is a servant of Hermaeus Mora. Does he walk these halls? Would you find him if you looked? Would you find him if you asked Hermaeus Mora?

Evading his questions or even outright lying won’t do you any good. He will know, maybe not completely, but he will see through a deception.

“You called to me through your book.”

“Did I?” he replies, almost breathy with surprise. That large, center eye blinks slowly again.

“Is that not what happened?” You take a step back and reach out to place your hand on a nearby stone table.

“All who seek after the secrets of my world are my servants. Willing or not. By opening that book, you served me. You…worshipped me.” That word—worshipped—rolls out in a purr. It slides over your skin as if invisible tentacles roam over your limbs.

“How do I worship you?” you counter. “I enter your realm without permission. I slay your servants. That does not sound like a loyal devotee.”

Hermaeus Mora’s form ripples like he’s shaking off a shiver. “You’ve come for secrets. You’ve come for knowledge. You’ve come for answers. All of which can be provided.”

You take another step and position yourself on the other side of the stone table, creating some sort of distance between yourself and the Daedric Prince.

Within Hermaeus Mora’s mass are smaller eyes. They blink at random, some of them disappearing entirely before returning. “Your journey towards enlightenment has finally led you here. To my realm. To me. As I knew it would.”

Storn Crag-Strider talked about how Hermaeus Mora likes to possess things just for the sake of possessing them. If Miraak is like you, if he is Dragonborn, then you are one more object for the Daedric Prince to hoard.

He called Apocrypha your new home, but you’re not interested in staying here, falling to the same madness the Ciphers have.

As if sensing your unease, Hermaeus Mora retreats a bit more, his form receding in shape. Like this, he isn’t nearly as frightening, but you still know who he is, and that is enough to ward off any attempt to bolt.

“What can you tell me about Miraak?” You want to divert this line of conversation to something else. Hermaeus Mora is too focused on you, and you do not care for his wandering eye. It moves in the socket, assessing, and it gives you a sense of objectification, like he’s trying to decide how valuable you are to his goals.

“Does my form disturb you?” he asks gently, not answering your question. “Would you prefer something more familiar to your mortality?”

Before you have the chance to object, Mora turns inward, his tentacles folding in as if he’s being pushed through a keyhole in a door. It all melds together and then drips to the floor. Those tentacles unfurl slowly in an upward arch, binding with each other to present a humanoid perversion of Hermaeus Mora.

He has two hands. Two feet. Two arms. Two legs. The Daedric Lord stands tall in this form, easily closing in on seven feet tall. These features are the only normal parts about him. His entire body is shiny, reflective like the inky water of his realm. Briefly, you consider whether or not it would part like water, or if it’s solid like skin. There are no anatomical features like nipples. It’s all smooth, including the space between his legs.

In the center of Mora’s face is a large, singular eye. There is no mouth, but that isn’t a surprise. Even in his true form, Hermaeus Mora has no physical mouth from which to speak. He simply does.

“Is this more pleasing to you, Dovahkiin?” Hermaeus Mora extends his hands outward, flexing each finger. A lone tentacle appears from behind his back to slide over and around his right leg. It stays put.

“Not particularly,” you answer, knowing that the truth is best.

“You offend me,” he laughs softly. Mora isn’t insulted at all. It’s clear that your discomfort amuses him. He strides forward, and there is a purposeful swagger. It’s very… human.

His hand reaches out toward the stone table, the tips of his fingers brushing along the curved edge as he circles the rocky slab. Instinct has you walking backward, but this version of Mora is tall, and his stride covers twice the distance yours does.

“You didn’t answer my question about Miraak,” you state, the fine hairs on your neck standing on end as Mora’s humanoid form advances into your personal space.

“All that he knows, he learned from me.” Hermaeus Mora’s hand reaches up, the tip of one finger running along the curve of your jaw. He is not cold or hot. In fact, there is no temperature, but his touch is tangible like flesh.

“That is not an answer and you know it,” you retort.

That large eye softens, the eyelids closing slighting as if your stubbornness is something to be enjoyed. “Miraak has been my loyal servant for many years. He has served me well, but he…grows restless under my guidance.”

Another tentacle appears from behind Mora’s back. This one wiggles upward before sliding over his shoulder and around his neck like a collar. It stays in place, shifting only when he does.

“Miraak desires to return to your world. It would spread my influence more widely across Tamriel, but it will also release him from my direct control.” Mora demonstrates his meaning by lifting a clenched fist and releasing the tension in the muscles, exposing his open palm. Within the palm, the blackness parts, and an eye appears. It briefly glances in your direction before retreating.

The finger tracing your jaw shifts into his hand. Mora steps closer and you have to crane your neck upward to see him properly. “It may be time to replace him with a more loyal servant. One who still appreciates the gifts I have to offer,” he purrs, the touch becoming a caress against your cheek.

For a moment, you lean into the touch, your body surrendering to his power. It lasts for only a handful of seconds. You’re quickly thrown out of the pull to submit, reality and awareness slamming into you like a battering ram. You stumble backward, nearly fall, and only steady yourself by reaching out to grab the stone table.

“Your words are poison,” you hiss.

“No,” replies Mora. “I am your freedom.”

He is still so close, and you need to find some distance. If that means you need to stay on the other side of the room, then that’s what you’re going to do.

The second the muscles in your legs tighten with tension, Hermaeus Mora’s gaze narrows. You begin to walk backward, moving away from the Daedric Prince, but he is having none of that.

Four large tentacles shoot out from his body, each one grabbing hold of your arms and legs. He draws you back to him, your body floating above the floor. The Prince of Fate is dangerously close. If he were truly human, the two of you would likely be touching noses.

“I know what you want,” he says softly even as the tentacles tighten around your limbs. “You want to learn a Word of Power. You want to use you power as Dragonborn to bend the world to your will. You. Crave. Power.”

You have always served others. You have always done everything for everyone else. When have you stopped to do something just for you?

Hermaeus Mora’s words are tempting, a sweet song of promise that lulls you slowly into compliance. What were those symptoms Master Neloth spoke of? Signs of corruption? Signs of madness?

Loss of will.

Have you lost it? Are you being influenced by Mora or is this your own desire finally floating to the surface?

“An exchange, Dovahkiin. What say you?”

It’s not like you have anywhere to go, and you’re not sure if your Thu’um has returned. Even if it has, would it truly do anything against the Daedric Prince of Knowledge and Fate? Doubtful. In his realm, he suppressed your Thu’um for a time, which means he could do it again. Why tempt fate when the odds are not on your side.

“I’m listening,” you whisper, hating that you’re giving in to him.

His shoulders soften with pleasure when you acquiesce. “Knowledge for knowledge. I bestow upon you a missing piece, and in return, you give me one of your secrets.” Hermaeus Mora clarifies his meaning by running the back of his hand down your throat.

There are worse things. There are worse deals. And this will be temporary. You will make it so.

You swallow, and deal the killing blow. “I will serve you in this way in exchange for your knowledge.”

Hermaeus Mora’s humanoid forms swells with pride. “Here then is the knowledge you need. Although,” he laughs. “You did not know you needed it. Not until you came to me.”

That massive singular eye of his closes. The tentacles around your limbs draw you closer until the two of you are almost touching. Then, the Daedric Prince clears the distance, resting his forehead against your own, joining your flesh with his.

“The second Word of Power. Use it to bend the wills of mortals to your purpose.”

The connection is immediate. It’s a blow to the face. A sharp tug on your hair. The strike of a sword against a shield.

The language of the dragons’ batters against your skull. The Word of Power appears before you, and your body immediately responds, absorbing all its knowledge and memory into yourself. It tastes like fire, and everything vibrates with a thudding thrum like the beat of dragon wings.

Your body takes it in, melts the Word of Power down into blood, and injects into your marrow, fusing yourself with the innate ability to wield it. It is your history. It is your truth. A piece that has always been with you.

Your eyes snap open and there is Mora’s singular eye.

“Now, Dovahkiin. I would like that secret.”

Part One // Part Three

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lumine-no-hikari · 15 days ago

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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #331

I woke up relatively early today. J had a dentist appointment. But yesterday, he had a COVID shot, and he was feeling really weird, both emotionally and physically, when he woke up. So I went along with him. It's relatively far away, and sometimes when his brain gets a little weird like this, it's best if he's not left to his own devices, or he'll start to feel disconnected from everything.

I got a couple neat pictures along the way...

We stopped for pizza afterwards. And then we went home. On the way, in one of the little patches of grass on the side of the road, I saw a skinny black stray cat. On the other side of the narrow patch of grass is a plaza with a bunch of different stores. It's not a safe place for a stray cat to be; not only are there far too many cars, but also, hawks hunt there; you can see them chilling out on the street lights during the day. So M and I tried to go back to see if maybe I could coax the cat into coming home with us...

...But it has a healthy mistrust of humans. That is good, because lots of people in my world really dislike black cats, and think that they're bad luck; it's ridiculous. Still others will be very mean to them, capture them and try to hurt them, and worse; it's too sad to talk about.

Despite being armed with catnip and very popular cat treats, the cat fled from me. I wonder if the thing to do is to get another humane trap, cover it in blankets, fill it with catnip, and check on it every several hours...

...It's getting colder outside. And it looked so thin... And is it spayed/neutered? I feel like I should at least do that much; it's better for the cat in the long term, even if it can't be properly socialized, and it'll prevent new kittens from being born into cold, starvation, and death.

...I'll talk to M and J about it. My brother asked to borrow my humane trap some time ago and an opportunity for him to give it back never arose, and likely never will. This isn't a problem, really. He can have it. I'll just get a new one, if M and J feel we can spare the resources for one.

...Cats shouldn't be homeless. They're not native to this continent; they're native to the deserts of Africa and Asia. They were brought to temperate environments by humans, where they wreak havoc on the populations of small birds and small mammals. Ultimately, it's not the cat's fault that it's in an environment that it wasn't built for; the blame for that goes back thousands of years. But I can do something in the now.

...Besides... I think it could get used to having a warm place to sleep, good food, and nice scritches, maybe! I'll see what M and J think about it tomorrow...

I went to my friend BB's house after that. We decided that once a week, there should be a “Get Stuff Done” day. The idea is that I go over to her house and help her get on top of things she had been putting off. Today, we went to the store and got her an angled broom and some bleach. Push brooms are nice for covering wide areas, but there are gaps in between the bristles and they're not very good for precision work (like sweeping corners) in the way that angled brooms are. And bleach is essential for getting grime out of places like sinks, tubs, and toilets; let diluted bleach sit long enough, and it'll do most of the work for you.

Once that was done, she swept N's study. I showed her how to bleach a sink. It's simple stuff; you just put a plug in the drain, pour in a little bleach in – enough to fill it up an inch or so (or 2-3cm) – and then fill it the rest of the way with very hot water. Let it sit for at least a half hour to allow the bleach to work its oxidizing magic on whatever gunk is in there, then pull the plug and scrub out whatever remains with a melamine foam pad, and you're good! We can clean a toilet in the same way! We got the sink cleaned up this way, and all 4 of her toilets look a lot better now, too!

I put on a playlist while we worked to help keep old memories from creep-creep-creepin' into my skull. Here's what I used this time:

Oh!! Right!! When working with bleach, make sure you use gloves that are meant for household cleaning. Bleach is a strong oxidizer, and it does not discriminate between sink gunk and human skin; the stuff is corrosive for this reason. Keep yourself safe.

We also reorganized her kitchen a little; some bottles and cans of juice and sodas that were out on the floor are now in a large cupboard that was mostly vacant except for a single small bottle of wine. The wine got moved elsewhere, and now the soft drinks live in the once-vacant cupboard. We threw out some things that needed to be thrown out, too, and moved some other things to more appropriate places. The whole area is a lot less cluttered now!

I also cut up a pile of plastic pack rings (these are used to bind together bottles or cans in groups of 4 or 6) that BB had been meaning to get to, but hadn't gotten to due to other stressors. It's important to cut them up before disposing of them, because if you don't, and if they happen to find their way out of waste management systems and into the wilds, an animal can get their head stuck in them, and then they die horribly. We want to try to avoid that.

...Ultimately, it'd be best if companies found a better way of binding their cans than those plastic rings, though...

We got quite a lot done in only a few hours! I'm looking forward to going back next week to see if I can help her with additional things!

I was pretty hungry by the time I got home, though, so I fixed myself a plate of various random things; want some?

I warmed up one of those pumpkin spice English muffins and spread some cream cheese on it! I got a few slices of ordinary lunch meat, too, and some apple pudding that J made, and some of the pumpkin seeds that I made not too long ago!

And I made another tea to go with it; hopefully the cream swirls are a little better this time, haha...

youtube

I changed out to my fourth set of braces after that. I'll show you the new ones as compared to the first; the first is on the left, and the fourth is on the right:

...It's starting to become a little easier to see the differences between the sets, at this point. Though, admittedly, this set doesn't seem to be fitting me quite right. It seems like there's a bit of space between the plastic liners and my actual teeth; I can feel it when I bite down. It's annoying, in the same way that it's annoying when your sock slides down in your shoe and bunches itself up into the arch of your foot.

...Hey Sephiroth? Has that ever happened to you? Like, your sock falling down in your big tall boots, and getting itself wedged awkwardly between the arch of your foot and the insole of your boot? How do you deal with that when it happens? Do you fix it right away, or do you just deal with it until you get home? And if you fix it right away... how do you do that? Because your boots don't look like they're easy to put on or take off. Or maybe, do you have extra special awesome socks that don't get bunched up to begin with? I wonder...

...I sent out a bunch of asks recently, trying to see some of people's favorite music. I've gotten a couple of responses so far!! I wanted to go through and listen to all the songs I got, but... it's getting pretty late. I have to try to get my butt in bed. So I think I'll do it tomorrow!! I'll make up a playlist full of the songs I got and everything! And I'll add to it as I receive more answers to my asks!

I'll get started on it tomorrow, after I call the orthodontist to make sure my current set of braces is fitting properly! And maybe I'll doodle while I listen, too! It'll be good!

Hey. I love you a whole lot, and I'm thinking kindly about you all the time. So please keep striving for that normal life. You can have it. You don't need to become a god in order to be loved. You don't need to break everything in order to find peace. All you have to do is improve your boundary skills, stay away from people who intend to hurt you, and improve your conflict resolution skills so you can come to a mutual understanding and find a wholesome solution when, inevitably, someone missteps and hurts you accidentally. Surely, these are achievable goals for someone as smart, brave, and adaptable as yourself, right?

Please stay safe out there. Don't throw your life away. I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

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grailfinders · 10 months ago

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Grailfinders Viewers' Choice #24: Dark Sakura

today on Grailfinders we’re making the big bad of Heaven’s Feel, Dark Sakura. she’s Sakura, but dark! I admit we haven’t played F/SN yet (heresy, I know), so if we get any lore wrong I profusely apologize. she’s got that grail gunk all up in her, so you know we had to give her the ol’ sorlock treatment. she’s a Great Old One Warlock for that GOO, and a Clockwork Sorcerer to get some of her own power. with those two in place, we have everything we need for omnipotence! maybe.

check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Ancestry & Background

Sakura’s a Human, or at least she was before the goopening, and she grew up with a special pattern on her that’s teaching her magic. that’s a Mark of the Sentinel if I ever heard it, giving her +2 Charisma and +1 Dexterity (thank you Tasha), as well as the Sentinel’s Intuition for a d4 bonus on all Insight and Perception checks. the most important part of hiding yourself from people is making sure they don’t know if you know that they know what you know, y’know? you can also use the Guardian’s Shield once a day for a free casting of the shield spell, and you’re a Vigilant Guardian, letting you throw yourself between an ally and an attack once a day. we’re not really using that last one here, but maybe you’ll use it during Today’s Menu for the Emiya Family, who knows. bacon grease really hurts, so maybe that counts as an attack?

you also get an extended spell list, but we’ll just go over the ones we want as we get them.

you’re also a Haunted One, because dear christ is the Matou family fucked up. on the plus side, you’re proficient in Arcana and Religion. that totally makes up for the trauma, right?

Ability Scores

your highest stat is Charisma. if you want people to think you’re doing alright, you need to lie to them constantly, and that’s a lot of charisma checks. also, your magic comes from within, and also from a cup, and also from a cup within, and all of those are charisma based. second up is Constitution. you can keep fighting with like, 80% of your body gone, so yeah. you’re pretty tough. third is Intelligence, as magic in Fate is a mix of sorcery and wizardry- it would feel weird to have this low, even if we don’t need it. this means your Dexterity is just okay. as implied by that bit about your body getting torn apart, you clearly don’t get out of the way of attacks easily. which kind of makes sense, you’re still just a teenager with magic powers. speaking of, your Wisdom’s low. I don’t want to assume as to how you got a grail stuffed inside you, but I will say it probably makes it hard for you to focus on stuff. that means we’re dumping Strength. you are a teenage girl. plus you’re going to have plenty of minions to do all the heavy lifting for you. I hear one of them is the strongest in the world.

Class Levels

1. Warlock 1: starting off as a warlock gets you proficiency with Wisdom and Charisma saves, as well as Deception and History. you also get an Awakened Mind from your GOO! (that’s Great Old One btw, but both work to describe grail mud) that gives you an Awakened Mind, letting you speak telepathically with anyone nearby as long as they know at least one language. I know the grail let Medusa speak Japanese but wouldn’t it be funny if it didn’t? now you’re prepared.

The grail will also give you Pact Magic like all warlocks, allowing you to cast spells using your Charisma for the spell modifier and save DC. You only have one first-level spell slot at the moment, but it recharges each short rest, and you’ll receive more and stronger spell slots over time. Eldritch Blast gives you a basic ranged attack that any caster should know, while Infestation allows you to call upon the grail mud to poison a nearby creature while also forcing them to move one space in a random direction. If your DM is fond of pits and hazards, you will be fond of this spell.

For your leveled spell, you can bring the mud to bear against anyone near you with Arms of Hadar, attacking friend and foe alike around you, while also preventing them from making reaction. For your second spell, go on the defensive with Shield of Faith giving you or an ally +2 AC for up to ten minutes. Any damage avoided is effectively damage healed, if you think about it.

2. Warlock 2: Second level warlocks get Eldritch Invocations to shape the grail mud to your liking. with these you can don an Armor of Shadows for free castings of Mage Armor on yourself, instantly adding an extra 3 points of AC while not wearing armor. you can also use Agonizing Blasts, adding your Charisma modifier to all damage done by your Eldritch Blast.

Speaking of dealing damage via Eldritch Blast, your new spell this level is Hex. With this spell, you deal an extra 1d6 necrotic damage to your target every time you hit them, and they also get disadvantage on all checks made with an ability of your choosing. If your target falls to 0 HP before your hour is up, you can even move it to another target! Given how many attacks Eldritch Blast can fire off in a single turn, this is a great boon to any killer of humanity.

3. Warlock 3: At third level, warlocks receive their Pact Boon, an extra special gift from your patron to shift the tides of battle! When you enter the Pact of the Talisman, anyone can wear it and add a d4 to a failed check up to your proficiency times a day. If you know what’s coming, you can be better prepared for it. Failing that, you can at least pretend you were prepared for it and make your rolls better anyway.

You also gain second level spells this level, and Hold Person is a doozy! One creature of your choice needs to make a Wisdom save, and if they fail, they’re paralyzed for up to a minute, or until they make another Wisdom save at the end of their turn.

A paralyzed creature is Incapacitated, and fails all strength and dexterity saves. In addition, all attacks against them gain advantage, and attackers within 5’ of the creature always deal critical damage whenever they hit. If you want to kill a humanoid as quickly as possible, this is how you do it.

4. Warlock 4: At fourth level, warlocks gain their first Ability Score Improvement, allowing us to round out your Dexterity and Charisma at the same time! We still can’t summon Saber Alter just yet, but you can use a Sword Burst for more or less the same effect. You also gain your first pseudo-summon this level thanks to Phantasmal Force. This illusion can be of anything you wish, but if you make an illusion that would deal damage to the creature, they will take a little psychic damage each turn.

5. Warlock 5: Fifth level warlocks learn third level spells. Counterspell will allow you to no-sell just about anything in the game, when it works. Countering the right attack or escape attempt can instantly make you the MVP of any encounter, which feels appropriate for a holy grail.

You can also don a Cloak of Flies thanks to your new invocation. With this, you deal poison damage to every creature within 5’ of you while also gaining advantage on Intimidation checks, at the cost of disadvantage on all other forms of charisma. You can use this once a short rest, and it has no time limit! it’s literally free damage.

6. Warlock 6: In contrast, your new Entropic Ward is free anti-damage. Whenever a creature attacks you, you can react to give it disadvantage. If this causes the attack to miss, your next attack against the attacker is made at advantage. You can only use this once per short rest, but I’m sure most people would prefer to have as few stab wounds as they can manage.

You can also further spread the mud’s influence thanks to the Hunger of Hadar, making a 20’ radius sphere of darkness that slows movement within it and deals damage to anything that starts and ends its turn within it.

7. Sorcerer 1: now we’re going to jump back to Sorcerer real quick and pick up some regular Sakura spells. you can argue we should’ve done this class first then, but I wanted the extra HP. so yes, you have Spells, you cast them with Charisma too. these refresh on long rests, but you can use warlock spell slots for sorcery spells and vice versa. this also doubles your cantrip count with the addition of Fire Bolt, Frostbite, Lightning Lure, and Chill Touch so this level isn’t 100% regular Sakura. you can also use Magic Missile if you like multiattacking but hate missing, and Silvery Barbs for another way to make the infinite power of the grail work for you. react and force someone to re-roll an attack, save, or check. if they fail, you can give an ally advantage on their next attack, save, or check. it’s great.

speaking of roll fuckery, you’re a Clockwork Soul, which lets you Restore Balance. 90% of the time grails are doing the exact opposite, but whatever, it lets you remove advantage or disadvantage from a d20 roll you can see Proficiency times per day. you can make the grail do literally anything, so everything we do here is 100% canon. people will believe that, right?

8. Sorcerer 2: second level sorcerers get a Font of Magic, so you can burn spell slots to make sorcery points and burn points to make sorcerer spell slots. if you’re not aware of the “coffeelock” gimmick, this lets you turn warlock slots into sorcerer slots, then short rest to regain the warlock slots for infinite magical power. as long as you can stay awake and not die in the process, at least.

to help you not die, here’s False Life! it gives you temporary HP! that’s almost as good as healing!

9. Sorcerer 3: third level sorcerers get Metamagic! it lets you customize spells almost as much as your invocations let you customize you. Heightened spells give one creature in their effect disadvantage on their save for 3 points, while Quickened spells let you cast an action spell as a bonus action. you blast hard, and you blast fast. it makes sense, given the magical reactor you’re stealing power from.

also you can cast Alter Self now! I don’t know what your cool red and black dress thing is supposed to be made out of, but if it’s made out of you, now you can make it by using the Change Appearance option. you can also choose an Aquatic Adaptation or Natural Weapons if you want.

10. Sorcerer 4: fourth level sorcerers get an ASI to max out your Charisma for the strongest spells, as well as the cantrip Mind Sliver to mess up human brains even more, and Maximillian’s Earthen Grasp for a sorta giant. why make a giant the size of a mountain when you can make a giant out of a mountain? think smarter, not harder. (it restrains a creature for up to a minute if it fails a strength save and you can make the hand crush people while grabbed.)

11. Warlock 7: Seventh level warlocks can use fourth level spells like Dominate Beast, turning any beast you can see into your loyal companion for up to a minute, forcing it to obey any command you give it. Most of our enslavement tactics only work on humanoids, so if you have to fight Hessian Lobo, this can help bring him into the fold.

If that’s not beastly enough, you become a Sculptor of Flesh this level, letting you cast Polymorph once a day with a warlock spell slot. This will transform you into a beast with a CR equal to or lower than your level for up to an hour. This is effectively summoning a giant to fight for you while also giving you a much larger HP pool to work with. You can’t cast spells while polymorphed, but I don’t think you need to if you’re a T. Rex.

12. warlock 8: at level 8 u get another asi, this time you’re getting lucky! congrats, some people have to stay up all night for that one. with this, yu can re-roll a creature’s attack, check, or save (as long as it directly affects u) up to 3 times a day! you can’t loop the whole war, but you can loop an attack or two. or three, if you were paying attention!

you can also summon a guardian of faith now, it’s only large so pretty small for a giant, but it blocks an area and stabs stuff for radiant damage! plus these are concentration free, so you can make as many as you want!

13. warlock 9: ninth level warlocks get fifth level spells, and if you really wanna make a shadow giant, then you need BIGBY’S HAND!!! it makes a big hand you can control. sure it’s not the whole thing, but all the cool giant boss fights only let you hit one body part anyway. also yer eldritch blast is a lance of lethargy now, so once a turn you can knock 10’ offa someone’s move speed for the next turn. that’s why this build’s so late!

14. warlock 10: tenth level warlocks can toll the dead and deal extra damage to anyone not at full health, but more importantly you get a thought shield! your mind cant be read by anybody you don’t wanna deal with, and you get resistance to psychic damage bc the amount you block gets launched back at the sender! you’re mostly mud by this point, i think. you ever try to make mud freak out? doesn’t go well.

15. warlock 11: leventh level warlocks get a mystic arcanum, a fancy way of saying you have normal spell slots now that only work for the one spell you get them for. no upcasting allowed past this point! now you can create undead! wit this you can turn up to three corpses into ghouls that’ll stay under your control for 24 hours. you can refresh this control with another casting, or you can just let them run free on the populace, your choice. boom, creepy skeletons, done!

16. Sorcerer 5: fifth level sorcerers got Magical Guidance, giving you another way to boost failed checks if you got the points for it. also, you can dispel magic now. if you couldn’t counter it, at least you can cut through it after the fact! (kinda ironic you died to rulebreaker, huh?)

17. Sorcerer 6: at sixth level clockwork sorcerers become a Bastion of Law, letting you spend sorcery points to give yourself a barrier to block up to 5d8 incoming damage.

18. warlock 12: at twelfth level you get your last asi, makin you tough! that’s 36 hp now, and another 2 every time you level up from here on out! if you want to heal a lot of hp, you need a lot of hp. or not, you can just turn into a huge giant crab if ya want. you also get the protection of the talisman this level, letting whoever is wearing it get an extra d4 on their save proficiency times a day! you’re just better than everyone, huh?

19. Warlock 13: a thirteenth level warlock gets a seventh level arcanum like Finger of Death. it kills people and can turn them into your zombie minions, just like the grail mud.

20. Warlock 14: all of this is nice of course, but it’s not warping a servant to serve you indefinitely. thankfully, that’s why you can now create thralls! you can use your action to touch any incapacitated humanoid and charm them indefinitely, or until they get hit with a remove curse spell. as long as you two are on the same plane, you can also talk to each other with your minds!! just. convince someone to play Saber. alter them. boom, salter.

Pros & Cons

Pros:

Create Thrall is a huge boon, letting you turn just about anyone into your minion for practically free. there’s no save, even! while finding an incapacitated humanoid sounds daunting, it’s easier than you’d think with a liberal sprinkling of heightened Hold Persons. suck a servant into goop and make them your servants. or zombies, or just lie to them!

as a sorlock you get infinite magic as long as you’re willing to work without sleep, which lets you blast away with your strongest spells without issue. well, not your strongest spells since those are arcanum, but still, infinite upcast Magic Missiles and Hungers of Hadar. it’s nice!

of course if you want to talk defense, infinite spell slots means infinite sorcery points means infinite shields. your infinite magical power makes Bastion of Law just a silly power to have, with no limit to the number of times you can use it outside of how much mana you have to burn meaning you can block up to 5d8 damage every turn with no limit outside of your patience. this is on top of your decent (for a caster) hp, as well as an ungodly number of ways to block, disadvantage, and stymie attackers at every turn. if someone somehow manages to fight you directly, it’s going to be a while before they can even pretend to land a hit on you.

Cons:

it a good thing you have those shields, because your AC is terrible without them. 15 AC isn’t bad, of course, but it means you’ll have to use every trick in your book if you get cornered by someone with actual fighting experience.

also, that big pro I put up there with the Bastion of Law? it takes a bonus action to burn a slot into points, then an action to make the shield. that’s your entire turn gone every time your shield needs to be refreshed. if someone really gets you on your backfoot, you can last a while, but that’s about all you can do. this is why you need the minions.

but now that I brought up that “ungodly number of ways to block attacks”… you have an ungodly number of ways to block attacks. that means not only do you have to be really paying attention to the DM’s turns, you need to keep an eye on all those methods of defense so you A) can use them well, and B) you don’t burn through them too quickly. complexity isn’t a death sentence, but you should know it before going all-in on a build. some people just want to relax in D&D, after all.

#fgo #fate grand order #D&D 5e #DND #Sakura Matou #Sorcerer #Warlock

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jahnavisurenda-21 · 9 months ago

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Jujutsu Kaisen||Nanami X Reader||For Every Moment||Moment Part 1.||Fluff, Peace

Daydreaming while studying again, And I got another character who I wanted to spend my evening with. Drink Water. Don't stare at the screen too much. I have seven drafts.

You worked as a Data Scientist, in the company, you just got off from a very unplanned overtime shift, but you just wanted to have your weekend free. So, you took on that shift.

Your eyes felt strained and needed something more relaxing, as usual, every Friday you visited the bookstore and headed to the romance section,

Your reading goals were to try and indulge in books your long-term boyfriend often reads in the morning to newspapers or non-fiction, but after a long day, you just want to hurl yourself into your comfort zone, maybe on your next day off you would borrow a few of his books to make him proud. You smiled at the thought.

You searched the aisle to see if you would find any titles you had put down on your BTR.

You didn't maybe there were some on the other sections, but you just sat down at one of the reading corners, to simply scheme the book.

You got a book you liked and were just about to head out when you noticed the skies had darkened out quite a lot and it was starting to pour.

Your car was at service, so you swiped up your phone, to dial your boyfriend's number.

"You're going to start to worry me when you don't even inform me about a late-night shift Y/n, where are you right now?"

"At the bookstore."

You heard an audible sigh from the other end of the line. Nanami got up from the couch and loosened his tie before taking it off, you heard the keys jiggling, "Don't go anywhere Y/n, I'm coming to pick you." Nanami instructed.

"Thank you."

The line got cut when you noticed how heavy the rain poured, maybe a few minutes had passed when you felt incredibly drowsy.

When suddenly you felt a shuffle too close to you, you flinched you stepped back a little when you were shocked at this man, yeah, he was the one who was at the romance section he had asked you for a recommendation. You didn't think he was approaching you again to ask for another recommendation.

It creeped you out, you just hoped your boyfriend would feel like he had done enough overtime and hit the escalator a little harder.

Then you started recalling all the times, your boyfriend would ask you to not wander, and all the wise words you failed to follow flashed before your eyes.

"Hey, the book you had recommended to me I didn't buy it." The guy gave a smirk, which could mean all the wrong things. "You know why?"

You deduced, this guy was up to no good, and decided to buy some time for yourself, "Why?"

"Because I had that one, I have to say you have great taste. The spice. the Romance." He emphasized the word, 'Spice' more, which made you all the more uncomfortable.

Then he began really pushing the boundary when he started walking up to you, this was going to get really ugly, one piece of advice from Nanami you could use, what was it?

"Whenever a cursed spirit approaches it not only comes to devour the soul, but if it is a male and it sees a woman, it cannot see them as a human being. You must run."

So, you did, not that you're classifying this man as a cursed spirit, but all your primal instincts screamed to run, just don't look back.

To your horror he chased behind you, you were afraid you might slip the footpath was slippery with mud and gunk. Which made it difficult to really run with your professional attire and pencil heels, The bookstore was quite far from where you came.

Then you bumped into someone, and you sighed so much again and again, a wave of relief, gratitude, and a thousand blessings felt like had washed over your breathless body, and shaky breaths, your ankles felt like they would scold and yell if they could,

Nanami, steadied you with an arm around your back, as you still looked scared and shaken up, his face remained as usual stoic, and calm. You fell onto his broad chest, and as he did not remove the arm around, you the other arm carried an umbrella that loomed over your frame.

"Thank god..." You whispered again, and again breathlessly. You saw that guy had come with two of his friends? Partners? You didn't want to find out.

When he saw those three, had chased you down one look at them and then you, he understood the entire story. He protectively pushed you behind him, "Is there a reason you're chasing her?" He asked his voice cold as the howling winds.

Nanami had a frighteningly cold and unforgiving demeanor, "Just who are you exactly?"

"Listen, she's my sister okay, she acts crazy--"

"Enough. Go." He ordered.

Nanami ushered you inside the car before he got behind the steering. "Don't think too much Y/n. Your alright."

"Because of you..."

When Nanami hit the brakes at one of the signals, he turned to check on you, he leaned from his seat to kiss your forehead,

"Do you want some hazelnut, chocolate, the one with marshmallows? I'll get you some cookies as well."

You smiled, "Yeah...I would like that, Thank you Kento."

"I'm just relieved you're alright."

#lovestories #romance #beauty #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu sorcerer #jujtusu kaisen #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanamixy/n #nanami x you

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hockeynoses · 2 years ago

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Calling In

Another Ste/ddie snz fic! 😅

Summary: Steve is sick and hopes that he won’t have to call off of work tomorrow. Eddie thinks he’s delusional. 1k.

Warnings: Some coughing. Not too much mess (nothing like what I sometimes write, anyway).

Notes: I wrote a rough draft of this for myself a month or two ago. I came across it today and decided to clean it up and post it. At this point, I’m a one-trick pony, but the “heart” wants what it wants. 💖

~*~

Steve had been forced to stay home today, having been taken down by a terrible head cold. Eddie came home from work to find him bundled up on the couch, looking like he’d just woken up from a nap. It pulled at something in his chest, seeing Steve so vulnerable like this.

After having dinner and catching each other up on their day (not that Steve has much to report), they’re snuggled back on the couch, watching TV.

“Baybe I’ll be well enough to go to work toborrow…” Steve muses hopefully.

Eddie shoots him an incredulous look. “You think you’re going to be better enough to work tomorrow?” His eyes flick to the pile of tissues currently surrounding Steve. The man can barely make it through a sentence without sniffling, sneezing, or coughing. He’s constantly holding a bundle of tissues up to his face because his nose is totally out of control and lord knows what might come out.

“Idt could happedn!” Steve says indignantly, into the aforementioned wad of kleenex. He gives a productive blow while glaring at Eddie, eyes tired and red-rimmed.

“Okay, we’ll see how you feel tomorrow morning,” Eddie relents. It isn’t worth it, and he doesn’t want to start an argument that would stress Steve out when he should be taking it easy. Steve nods like the matter is settled. Then he tilts his head back, eyes closing, inhaling a shaky breath before – “haaah…hah’ESSSHH’oo!” With the soaked mass of tissues still pressed to his face, he sheepishly looks at Eddie and asks, “Cand you bmake be some tea?”

Eddie chuckles, giving him a soft look. “Sure, sweetheart.” He pushes back the hair that had fallen into Steve’s face before heading into the kitchen.

[…]

The next morning, Steve wakes up feeling just as bad as yesterday – if not worse. Blearily, he comes to, his nose somehow both crusted over and still running. It’s even on his pillow and he feels disgusting. He draws in a breath, throat dry from a night of mouth-breathing and no water, and immediately breaks into a crackling, chesty cough that makes him curl into himself. He tries his best to cover with his hand, which is now a mess, having just used it to wipe his nose.

As he’s catching his breath, the fit mostly over with, Eddie steps into the room, still in his pajamas and holding two cups of coffee.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Concern shines in his big eyes. “You sound awful.” He sits on the edge of the bed next to Steve, setting both mugs on the nightstand and grabbing several tissues from the box there, handing them over. “Here.”

Steve takes them gratefully and presses them to his poor nose. “Tha-ahhh- hih’KISSSHHH’uu! Ugh. Thaggs.” He blows his nose, which tickles his throat and causes him to cough up more gunk from his lungs. When it’s over, he turns to lay on his back again, groaning. “Oh god…”

Eddie pats his hip through the covers. “Still feel like going to work today?” he asks, trying and failing to keep a hint of smugness from his voice.

Steve groans again, this time in frustration, as he rolls over and buries his face into the pillow, hiding from Eddie. “You’re so bmean.” His words are muffled into the plush fabric.

Eddie laughs. “Hey, I’m not mean! I brought you coffee.”

Steve peeks an eye open, reminded of the mug on the nightstand next to him. He can barely smell, but what he can, smells good.

“And I have the day off, so I can stay with you all day.” Eddie gives him a little poke through the thick comforter.

“Are you gonna be nice?”

“Baby, I’ll be so nice it’ll blow your socks off. I’ll get you anything you want.” Eddie pauses, carding a hand through Steve’s messy hair. “Should I get the phone so you can call in?”

“Ha-knxxgt! SNF. Yeah.” Steve pouts a little in defeat. Eddie’s vindication over being right is dulled a bit by how pathetic Steve looks.

“Okay, I’ll be right back. Sit tight.”

Steve sits up and tries to clear the grittiness from his voice so he’ll sound somewhat human. It only makes him cough more. Grabbing his coffee off the nightstand, he takes a few sips, the warm liquid helping to soothe his throat.

Eddie comes back and hands him the cordless phone, picking up his own mug and settling into the other side of the bed. Steve dials the number.

“SNF. Hey, Robidn.” His voice is a rough croak. “I thigk I’b godda have to stay hombe agaidn. I’b still-hah…. still- ihhh-hih’ERSSSH’IUE! Ugh. Really sick.” He moans and rubs his nose. Eddie presses a tissue into his hand, which he gratefully accepts. “Yeah. I’b – hih….heh’AESSSHOO! I’b sorry.” He buries his face into the tissue and gives a couple of soft blows. Robin’s voice filters through the line, tinny.

“I dod’t wand to get adyone else sigk,” Steve responds. “And besides, Eddie would probably kill me if I tried to combe idn today.” He glances at Eddie with a tired smile. Eddie nods his head in silent agreement and sips his coffee.

“Okay. Hih’ISSHHH’ah! I will. Thaggs.” He ends the call and sets the phone down on the side table. “Well, that’s done.” He has just enough time to snap the ruined bundle of tissues back up to his face before – “ih’KISSH! Hah’TISSHSH!” He gives an exhausted blow before clearing his throat. “I thigk I bmight go back to sleeb.”

“Can you stay awake long enough for some breakfast? You should probably eat.”

“Just – hih’AEESSH’UE! Just wake be up agaidn whedn it’s ready.” He lays down again, curling onto his side.

“Alright, baby, I can do that.” Eddie rubs his back. “You have any requests?”

“Hmm… pancakes.”

“Pancakes?” Eddie says dramatically. “It’s a high ask, but your wish is my command.” He presses a kiss to Steve’s shoulder before getting up to make breakfast.

#snzblr #snzfic #snz fic #can't get enough of my fav characters describing how miserable they are it's always 💯💯💯🥵#snz fics #snzfics

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foreverlilmeowmeow · 2 years ago

Text

Showering for You (Junkrat x reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary: Junkrat wanted to shower because you had asked Roadhog where he had been. What Junkrat didn't know was that after burning himself in the shower, you were the one to save him.

Warnings: Nothing that I can think of. There's a slight talk about him being butt naked under shorts but other than that its pretty safe

Words: 1,225

~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was nervous.

He had never taken a shower for anyone before. He loved playing in the dirt, covering himself in anything and everything that was around him. Soot would be the most recent thing he was covered in as he was making bombs for his latest experiment. He and his friend were about to try them out when his best friend and partner in crime came in and spoke to him of y/n looking for him. He froze.

“T-there looking for me?”

Roadhog, 7’3” and 550 lbs man, nodded his head as Roadhog didn’t really speak but for some odd reason the short man of 6’5” could understand them.

“Did they say why they were looking for me?” Jamieson, also known as Junkrat, asked.

Roadhog shook his head as if to indicate that he didn’t know and that they were just looking for them.

“Do you know whereabouts?” Junkrat asked as he was starting to get more nervous. He was covered in soot and grime that it would take days, no, weeks to get the gunk out of places it shouldn’t. Why now was y/n wanting to talk with him. It just seemed abnormal to them.

“The mess hall.” Was all that Roadhog had said. He looked over at the other junker that was in the shop and sighed knowing he would have to be the one to clean up if Junkrat wanted to go and see y/n.

“Right… the mess hall… where everyone will be… thanks…” Junkrat said as he waved to the junker that was helping him and headed back to his room so he could change and clean up. The thought of taking a shower seemed horrible. He hated taking showers and felt like they were a waste of time, but he really wanted to make a good impression on you so he was going to take one.

“Now, how does this bloody thing work…” Junkrat mumbled to himself. Sure he had taken showers in the past because he had too, but this shower in his room was a bit more fancy and not a hose you would see outside the walls of your home.

“Ah! This should do the trick!” He smiled as he turned the knob on the right side first and waited a bit before sticking his hand under the water. The water felt like ice. Colder than normal temperatures and nearly made his left hand go numb, “Maybe I should turn this one first. Maybe this one will do me better.” He mumbled to himself as turned the right one off and went to the left one, turning it all the way and waiting. Steam started to roll from the mouth of the faucet and his eyes started to see that maybe it wasn’t the right one but decided to stick his left hand under it and cry out nearly burning his fingers to what felt like to the bone.

“How does one find the right temperature? Roady, well he usually likes his a bit warmer than I do and from what I heard from the others they like it colder.” Junkrat started playing the knobs once more as he was trying to figure out how to get the perfect middle, “How does one find the perfect middle?”

“You okay in there?” y/n’s voice came from the bedroom as Junkrat froze in his spot, “I heard someone cry out and I just wanted to make sure you or whoever was okay.”

“Yeah! I’m fine!” Junkrat panicked as he thought y/n was supposed to be in the mess hall with the others. What were they doing here?

“You sure? I mean I can come help with whatever you need help with. I know how much of a pain the bathrooms can be.” Y/n said as Junkrat’s cheeks brightened at the thought of them walking in here and seeing he was struggling with the bathroom tub.

“No, that won't be necessary! I’ll be just fine!” Junkrat said as when he turned to look at the door where y/n stood. Their bright colored eyes just smiling away and their h/l colored hair neatly tucked away behind their ear.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize you were about to hop into the shower Jamie! I just wanted to make sure you were okay!” Y/n said as their cheeks were a bit red from seeing that Junkrat was still fully clothed but just the thought of them getting ready to undress brought their cheeks to a beautiful pink color.

“It's okay! I didn’t realize you were passing by and should have kept the door close to the bedroom. I honestly forget sometimes that others can pass on by and see everything that is going on that it's sorta embarrassing to forget such a little thing.” Junkrat admitted as he looked away from y/n and tried not to stare. They were extremely beautiful and it made Junkrat’s heart skip a beat after every time they called him by his first name instead of his code name. Junkrat really wanted to impress them, but standing here in the bathroom with them was not how they wanted to impress them.

y/n laughed, “Well, what were you trying to do?” They asked.

“I was trying to start the bloody shower but it got too cold at first and nearly froze my hand and then turned it too hot and nearly burned myself. I can’t find the perfect medium.” he said as y/n nodded their head and moved over to set them temperature for him. He watched carefully that they turned the left one first and then turned the right one making sure that it was still warm and that even though it was a bit cooler than how they took their showers they wanted to make sure that Junkrat was comfortable with this and that if he wanted to change it he could turn either knob to make it more comfortable.

“There, how is that?” y/n asked Junkrat.

“That’s perfect!” Junkrat smiled as he ran his hand under the water and smiled that it wasn’t hurting him nor freezing him, “Thanks y/n!”

“It was my pleasure, Jamison, I was just happy that I could help out.” you said as you made your way back to the door of the bathroom.

“Hey, y/n, before you go.” Jamie said as he removed the belt that was across his chest and shoulders, “What did you need me for? Roady said you were looking for me.”

“Oh! Uh… it was nothing! I had seen Roadhog and didn’t see you so I was just curious about where you were. Nothing too important.” You mumbled as he smiled seeing you were the one now stuttering.

“Are you sure?” Junkrat asked before he was about to pull his shorts down and if you could see the look on your face right now, Jamieson was butt naked under his shorts and that made your face go redder than any tomato you could find on the spaceship.

“Y-yeah! Just wondering where you were!” y/n said as Junkrat nodded. He waited for you to leave and then sighed hopping into the shower thankful you were gone.

“Now, how about we think about what our next experiment with them shall be… hmmm….”

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #junkrat #junkrat x reader #junkrat x gn reader #showering #shower #x reader #overwatch x reader #jamison fawkes x reader #jamison fawkes x gn reader #jamison fawkes x you #junkrat x you #junkrat x y/n #jamison fawkes x y/n

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theflowerofthecommonwealth · 2 years ago

Text

Power Armor Punch Part Fifty Six

Masterlist

Teshteal: *gets a little lightheaded from the smell but rakes up a whole bunch of gunk- a good chunk of it in fact. He scrapes it all out the door before falling against the frame from how dizzy he got from the odor* Th- the smell-!

Joyce: “Yeah, I know it’s horrendous but luckily Ma knows how to get rid of the stench off our clothes. It’s one of the downsides of living on this island, but at least we know what’s on it and can monitor what comes in. Unlike the mainland, anything can get you there.” (Continues the clean up, raking up as much gunk as she can get so they can be done with the worst)

Nick: *cracks a smile at her at the compliment* I try my best.

Ma: “Well, please keep it up.” (Gestures at Jazzy as she dabs her forehead with the cool cloth once more) “She’s deserves a good father figure to look up to and to care for her.”

Jasmine: (Half asleep again and completely relaxed all cozied up in her Dads arms, getting lulled by the motion of the chair rocking and the gentle rubs on her stomach. It reminds her of that one time a very bad virus went around town when she was about four, bad enough that even she herself caught it and started suffering. Her mother had sat in the family’s rocking chair and rubbed her tummy while singing along to the radio)

Nick: *it occurs to him that he’s going to have to discuss leaving her with Ma and Donovan if he’s going to go to the vault. Mutters* That’s going to be hard…

Gardio: *soon has the kitchen and dining room spotless and the food all put up. He starts to clean the livingroom some*

Teshteal: *has a pang of guilt and shame for stopping* I’m sorry. *starts to help again but has to stop after a few short moments because his sense of smell is too strong to handle it. Swears* I’m so fxcking useless-

Joyce: (Stops and turns around when she hears Teshteal mutter something she couldn’t quite pick up) “Hm? What was that?” (Sweet smile on her face) “Do you need a break? We are almost done anyways.”

Jasmine: (Listening to Nicks internal workings gurgle and churn as she cutely snuggles against him and sniffles)

Ma: (Stands straight again, being lost in her own thoughts) “I’ll head back down to finish up, sanitize the med room and get the supplies ready for later when Donny gets back. Need anything else? Or shall I just leave you two in peace for a moment?”

Nick: *flashes a smile* I think we’re all good here.

Teshteal: *feels even worse for not finishing the job when they’re almost through. Sadly admits defeat* Yes. Sorry. I’m just slowing you down…

Joyce: (Waves a hand) “No you weren’t, without Donny here it would’ve taken me ages to finish up.” (Gives him a grateful smile) “Thank you. I know this job reeks but you made it better.” (Looks up at the sky in thought) “Am I doing compliments right? Am I overdoing it? Or under doing it?”

Ma: (Warm smile at the caring father gently holding and comforting his daughter) “Alright then, I’ll take my leave.” (Walks out of the room)

Jasmine: (Would suck on her thumb to soothe herself further but she can’t. She instead starts slowly drinking from the bottle again, taking in more water than last time while she shifts in discomfort from the sensation of eating/drinking)

Nick: *happy she’s at least drinking a little water*

Ma: (Absolutely beams with delight when she sees the kitchen and dining room clean and sparkly) “Goodness me! You did this?” (Heads up to Gardio)

Gardio: *pauses from sweeping the living room* Well, yes. It’s the least I could do for what you’ve done for us. Especially for Lucille and I.

Ma: (Gives him a grateful pat on the back) “Thank you, it’s a big help. And speaking of your daughter, how is she doing now? I didn’t get the chance to speak with her earlier and I’m not quite sure where she is now.”

Teshteal: *puts a hand on her shoulder hearing that familiar tone of uncertainty* If you absolutely mean it, then you’re doing them just right. *apologetic smile* If I seem hesitant it’s because I’m not used to receiving them. It’s not you at all.

Joyce: (Pats his hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze) “Eh, neither am I. At the Institute, you don’t get recognized much for your work unless you screw up the it’s the whole, “Maybe you need to be reset!” Or something like that.”

Teshteal: *blushes at the contact but his eyes widen hearing about how she was threatened with resets. It reminds him of his time in the vault* That’s terrible. *hesitates and winces because of it* I was in some sort of experimental training program before the war. If you even stuttered they’d nearly kill you just to prove a point. *stops himself and smiles kindly to lighten the mood* If it helps, I think you do amazing work keeping the animals happy and healthy.

Jasmine: (Opens her eyes and stares up at her Dad, shifting in discomfort without pulling away from the bottle) (Signing weakly) “Hot. Dizzy. Suffering.” (Too tired to make full sentences, so she just chose one handed signs that got the point across)

Nick: *whipes her forehead down with the rag again* I know, doll. I know. Wish there was more I could do for ya. *sets it aside to let it cool again* Just keep drinking your water. Maybe it’ll help you cool off.

Gardio: She seems to be doing better. I haven’t had the chance to really talk to her myself.

Lucille: *inspecting around the attic. Thinking of ways to improve on the place to make it more hospitable in the long term*

Ma: (Starts heading off to clean the med room) “Perhaps you’ll get a chance later. If you don’t mind me saying, I think your little group is overdue for a long and thorough chat. Communication is key to maintaining a healthy and close-knit relationship, otherwise the pressure keeps building up until it explodes in everybody’s faces and then nobody is happy.” (Stops and sighs sadly, in the doorway to the med room, eyes gazing off in thought)

Joyce: “That sounds harsh, I’m sorry to hear that. Donny has told me about vaults, so many were just downs right awful, Im glad I didn’t have to live in one of those.” (Picks up a large branch that blew into the pasture) “And that I am now free to do what I please.” (Under her breath to herself) “Mostly…” (Starts dragging the branch out the gate) “That includes keeping these guys happy and healthy.”

Teshteal: *catches the “mostly”* What is it…? What can’t you do but want to?

Jasmine: (Whines to signify that she’s not enjoying the sensation of drinking the water, but she keeps doing it anyways because what else can she do other than complain and cry)

Nick: Ssh, doll. Ssh. You’ll be alright…

Gardio: I hope so, too. Perhaps once Nick’s own daughter recovers from this recent ordeal we can all sit and clear the air. *goes back to sweeping up*

Ma: (Heads into the med room and starts mopping up the spilled blood from yesterday, getting misty eyed at the thought of poor little Rosalinda almost bleeding out before her very eyes. She can’t get it out of her mind, the vision of the bubbly spunky little girl running down the street with passion in her strides and the prettiest smile on her face, that’s all almost melted away… She knows Donny most definitely feels the same)

Joyce: (Waves it off again as she continues to drag out sticks) “Nothing, Donny says not to worry about it so there is no “maybe”, I am free to go and do as I please.” (Confident smile at her new friend)

Teshteal: *takes her hand and cups it with his in a plea of concern* Please. I want to help if I can. I can't do that if I don't know what's going on. *quietly* From one refugee to another, will you let me help you...?

Jasmine: (Hums a somber note, nuzzling in her Dads shoulder while she drinks her water a little faster and focuses on the rocking of the chair and Nicks gentle rubs)

Nick: That-a-girl. Good job.

Jasmine: (Closes her eyes again, drinking her water at a steady pace while her hands grip on Nicks shirt, encouraged by his words. She’s gotten about half of it down by now)

Gardio: *cleans up the livingroom. He's got nothing better to do at the moment.

Lucille: *comes walking down to get some tools and scrap from her pack and goes up to the attic. She's going to patch up all those cracks and holes permanently for Ma and Donovan*

Donovan: (Comes in through the side door with a small cooler in hand. He nearly broke the damn sound barrier getting to the Harbor and back) “I’m here! And I’ve got the fluid!” (Nods at Gardio in greeting as he heads to the med room with the cooler)

Ma: (Halts her cleaning when she hears her son return and grabs her IV kit and pole, shuffling to bring it out)

Donovan: (Puts down the cooler on the newly cleaned table) “Don’t worry about it, I’ll bring everything up when it’s time to hook Rosie up. But I assume that actually getting the IV in her is going to be the challenging bit.”

Ma: (Nods as she starts up the stairs with just the IV kit. She taps on the doorframe of her room and gives Nick a look) “Everything is ready…”

Donovan: (Followed her up the stairs but won’t enter the room because Jasmine doesn’t have her nightgown as she puked on it earlier and is burning up)

Nick: *nods* Alright. *to Jas* I'm going to need you to try and stay calm for me, alright? *picks her up and carries her into the med room*

Joyce: (Sad smile at Teshteal as she holds his hand back) “You’re so darling, but you can’t help me with this one, Teshteal. Donovan and Ma are already handling it for me, and I rather not speak about it.” (Gestures at the house, tugging on his hand) “I need a drink, wanna come?”

Teshteal: Sure. *smiles and follows along*

Joyce: (Continues to hold his hand and lead him back into the house, only letting go when she needs them both to wash her hands in the kitchen sink) “I think we have some Tarberry water leftover in the fridge.” (Turns on the sink and offers Teshteal some soap so he can wash up too)

Jasmine: (Unaware that she is getting an IV as she was too out of it to listen earlier so she just shifts uncomfortably with a noise of confusion at what’s happening, gripping her Dad tightly)

Donovan: (Runs to make sure that the bed is all set to place Rosie on, or that the chair is out in case Nick wants to sit with his daughter in his lap. He’s unsure on how this is going to go, or how well Jazzy will take it)

Ma: (Follows Nick, frowning) “I take it this won’t be an easy task either? I recall you saying she’s not a fan of needles and I’ve come to learn that Rosie is still very passionate about things she doesn’t like, more so than she was before.”

Nick: You guessed correctly. It took restraints to keep her from ripping out the lead last time. *sighs* I think I'm going to have to hold her still unless she realizes how crucial this is for her survival. *decides to sit in the chair*

Teshteal: *blushes when he realizes she keeps holding his hand when she doesn't have to. He's not even really keeping a tight hold on hers. Shyly* Yes, please. *takes the soap and washes up. Thinking to himself "Does she actually like me? Is this my programming playing games? Why don't I question myself like this with the others accepting me-" He stops when he glances over and sees her smile while she finishes washing her own hands. He can't stop blushing at how geniune it is*

Gardio: *smiles, spying on the pair from the livingroom he's cleaning. It's obvious the little gremlin has a crush*

Joyce: (Wipes her hands dry and heads over to the fridge to take out a pitcher of water and two cups. She seems oblivious to how hard Teshteal is blushing) “Here you go.” (Holds out a cup to him when she finishes pouring the water in)

Lucille: *insulating the attic. When she's done she makes a small space heater out of stove parts she picked up a while ago and sets it up to run on a makeshift battery until she can wire it to the rest of the house*

Jasmine: (Whimpers and squirms when she hears about the IV line, her heart starting to beat a little faster)

Donovan: (Leans on the wall of the med room, waiting to see how Jazzy reacts and if he’s needed)

Ma: (Snaps on some gloves) “Please, hold her as still as you can.” (Bends down by the chair and pulls out a tourniquet) “Sorry Rosa-Marie, you might feel a tight squeeze.” (Takes the trembling girls arm and ties the tourniquet around the upper part, feeling the crook of her arm for a good vein)

Jasmine: (Knows this process all too well and starts crying out loudly while trying to swat Ma away) “No! No! No! No!”

Joyce: (Looks towards the med room with concern) “That poor girl. She’s been screaming and crying since last night, I heard it from my room…”

Teshteal: *frowns* She's always like this when people take care of her... *sadly* You kind of get used to it because there's nothing you really can do. *drinks his water*

Joyce: “Oh…” (Frowns and takes a sip of her water, wondering what happened to the teen to make her behave this way)

Nick: *takes her arms and holds them tightly* No, doll.

Ma: “I know baby, you don’t like this one bit. But I promise it’s for your own good.” (Finds a good spot and releases the tourniquet, starting to wipe down the area with an alcohol wipe)

Jasmine: (Screams bloody murder as she knows the needle is next)

Donovan: (Leaves the room, he can’t stand to see her cry anymore as it makes his heart race to see her in distress. Besides, it seems as if Nick has the teen under control)

Ma: (Ties on the tourniquet again, lower this time, and gets ready to prick the girl) “Take a deep breath for me, sweetheart.”

Jasmine: (Absolutely freaking out and would be fighting with everything she’s got if she wasn’t restrained by her Dad)

Ma: (Punctures Jas’s arm and releases the tourniquet when she gets the new IV in place, holding it with her finger) “There we go, the hurtful part is over.” (Takes out the clear medical tape and starts securing it, working extra careful despite Jazzy’s shrieking)

Donovan: (Makes his way over to Joyce and Teshteal in the kitchen, forcing a smile at his sister) “Hey JoJo, how are you feeling?”

Joyce: (Gives him a sad smile back, putting down her cup) “Better now. I’m taking a break from cleaning the pasture with Teshteal here who’s been keeping me company. And you? How are you holding up?”

Donovan: (Briefly looks behind him at the med room where the screams can be heard from) “I’ll be fine, I’m just worried for Rosie…” (Shakes his head) “This isn’t her, I know she’s not like this. I don’t know what to do…”

Joyce: (Sets down her cup) “Aw, you must love her a great deal to be so worried.” (Wraps her brother in a loving hug to cheer him up)

Donovan: (Softly chuckles as he puts his arms around Joyce) “I do. And I missed her more than I can express.” (Sways her from side to side as he remembers the horrible day Jas was ripped away never to be seen again by those she loved except him and Ma)

Teshteal: *winces hearing the screams but keeps drinking his water knowing she’s not in any real danger*

Nick: *keeping her arms still as Ma prepares the IV for blood transfusion* Ssh, Rosie. You need this.

Ma: (Flushes Jas’s IV with saline) “While we are here, we should probably clean and rebandage her wounds again. Her getting an infection isn’t something that we want or need.” (Gestures to Teshteals salve on the table along with the bandages as she gets up to prepare the pole with a bag of blood)

Jasmine: (A hissy and spicy shrieking mess as she tries to peel off the newly placed IV in her arm)

Joyce: (Thinking about her former boyfriend while they both sway in the hug) “We were supposed to go dancing…” (To Donny, tugging on his arm) “Take me dancing, I still wanna go.”

Donovan: (Quietly laughs down at her) “You sound like Rosie demanding me to dance with her. She wouldn’t leave me alone until I did, stare me down with her doe-eyes to crack me down and get me to cave.”

Joyce: (Perks up with interest) “The little girl can dance too?”

Donovan: “She’s the one who originally taught me. Heh, you remember that school dance off story I told you?”

Joyce: (Groans when she recalls the story and how Donny had described Jas being marvelous on the dance floor at eight years old) “So even the kid can dance better than me?”

Donovan: “The little girl has been living longer than you and could outrun a high schooler when she was nine, so its not a fair comparison.”

Teshteal: *perks up hearing the two discuss dancing* I can dance, kind of. Well… in a deadly way. *remembers the way he tore up those ghouls* I wouldn’t mind dancing for fun.

Nick: *holding both of her wrists* Stop this!! *it’s times like this he wishes he could use the Reset code if it didn’t traumatize her*

Jasmine: (Hisses at her Dad when he tells her to stop and starts kicking up a storm) “No! No! No! No! No!”

Ma: (Stops what she’s doing to hold down the girls legs again) “Rosalinda, please calm yourself sweetheart. The sooner you cooperate the sooner we can be done.”

Joyce: (Beams at Teshteal) “Really? Not many people know how to dance anymore. Donny has been teaching me how to slow dance for awhile now and I think I’ve got the basics down enough.”

Donovan: “She’s only steps on my toes three times per song now, a new record all things considered.”

Joyce: (Glares up at him) “I’m still tryna get the hang of it!” (Back to Teshteal) “We could learn together! Maybe hold a dance in the living room some time!”

Teshteal: I know ballet and a few other solo dances. It was one of the few things I secretly enjoyed in the Vault- learning to dance those dances. *frowns at the memory of his dance partner- one of the staff usually, shocking him or beating him if he stepped out of time or didn’t keep up. Morosely while holding himself protectively* It would be nice to learn to slow dance with someone who won’t hurt you if you mess up.

Nick: *grimly to Ma so she doesn’t freak out when he uses the command* I’m about to use something that should only be done in circumstances like this- when she dangerously won’t respond to reason. It will make her completely unresponsive without putting her to sleep but she’ll also be terrified. I’m letting you know because I don’t want you to get the wrong idea- I don’t take using these commands lightly but if it saves her life I’m not 100% against using them.

Jasmine: (Too busy throwing a tantrum and screeching at the top of her weak lungs to listen to what Nick is saying about using commands)

Ma: (Eyes widen a bit when she hears this, then she looks at the feral child who’s uncontrollable. She silently nods in response, still a bit unsure on what’s about to happen but she’s seen how much Nick cares for his daughter, so she trusts him to make the right call)

Joyce: (Looks very concerned about Teshteals previous situation in the vault) “Oh, no. I promise I won’t hit you… I may step on your toes by accident but never on purpose.”

Donovan: (Also very concerned upon hearing this) “Where exactly did you come from?”

Teshteal: Originally? Boston, Massachusetts. I was a cop before the war. I signed up for an advanced training program cause I got tired of being the worst cop on the force.

Gardio: *eyes widen hearing this. He had no idea his reputation affected him that badly that he felt pressured to sign up for a training program*

Teshteal: Turns out, it was a actually a front to abduct people who could be viable supersoldier candidates- people with combat training and skill. Rosie and I were both taken by the same people.

Gardio: *covers his mouth, more at the realization a that his friend only ended up there because of all the mockery from the rest of the precinct. Feels guilty for not standing up for him*

Donovan: “You and Rosie were in the same place? The same vault? How? Why? Rosie is just a child-…” (Stops when it hits him that Jas was always athletically and academically talented, always the best out of the best) “God no, is that why she was taken…?”

Teshteal: *nods* I believe so. *heavily as he examines his water* We never saw each other and she was in there a lot longer than I was. My “programming” was never complete so I’m more sociable than Rosie. I have my own baggage, though. I can’t even hear the name my parents gave me without cowering. *staring at his reflection in the water*

Nick: *nods at Ma then loud enough for Jas to hear* A-001. Reset. *starts laying on the reassuances thick as soon as Jas goes limp. He lets her know she’s not in trouble and that she’s safe. He tells her that they need to give her blood via IV to help her regain her strength. He explains everything as calmly and as he can.*

Jasmine: (Went completely limp with a whimper, her vision going white and her ears ringing with the heavy thud of her heartbeat as it did previously. She can’t hear Nicks words clearly yet, but she can tell that they are soft and assuring, not rough and angry as she’s used to)

Ma: “Oh my….” (Covers her mouth with one hand, shocked at how quickly the girl went limp and got a lost look in her eyes. She’s now completely submissive, like she doesn’t even care)

Nick: *to Ma* She’ll be like this for a while. I hate using it cause it robs her of her agency… *gently brushes a strand of hair out of Jas face* I just have to remind myself that it’s for her own good. That if I don’t use this command she won’t get the help she needs in time to save her life. *apologetically looks down at his daughter*

Jasmine: (Just staring off while she slowly and blankly blinks, taking the time to rethink her situation by going through the previous events. She was hurt badly in a fight, Nick, Donny and Ma patched her up, she woke up sick, now they are giving her an IV and she hates those things. She fights because that’s what she’s suppose to do, but her Dad is the one allowing this to happen…)

Donovan: (Just stands there, processing all of Teshteals words and piecing as much as he can together)

Joyce: (Doesn’t have wise words to share to perk up her new friend, but she does have warm hugs. She wraps up Teshteal in one as she did with Donny earlier, swaying from side to side)

Teshteal: *freezes as he’s hugged. His instincts roar at him to flip her over his head and send her crashing through the floor but he refuses to do that. He takes a deep breath and leans into the hug, frantically telling himself she’s safe to get close to. Tells himself to let him get close to someone new*

Joyce: (Almost lets him go when she felt him freeze but hesitated when he leaned in) “Sorry, too much?”

Donovan: (Spins on his heel and heads back to the med room to check on Jas, now realizing that she stopped screaming)

Nick: *to Jas, still* Ma is going to hook up the IV to get some fresh blood in you. It’ll be quick and painless.

Jasmine: (Whimpers quietly as she goes through the correction stage, anticipating a slap, whack, or even the crack of a whip at each correction she makes on her fighting form or decisions on how she handled things)

Ma: (Silently moves up to hook the girl to the blood bag, setting it to a slow drip that she’ll increase over time just to be sure that Jas doesn’t have any bad reactions to it)

Donovan: (Steps into the med room, halting when he sees the dead glare in Jazzy’s eyes) “What’s going on?”

Teshteal: Huh-? *realizes he was in a stupor go for a moment* No, I was caught off guard. *finally relaxes and gives her a tight hug back but is careful not to squish Gilbert’s pouch. His tail gently sways up and down at the comfortable gesture he’s letting himself experience*

Joyce: (Brightly) “Okay then!” (Continues to hug the little devil gremlin man, still swaying from side to side as that is how Donny and Ma hug her and she hasn’t hugged very many other people)

Nick: *explains the command and why he had to use it. Essentially the same explanation he gave Ma.*

Donovan: (Looks at Ma, then nods in partial understanding. He leans back against the wall while he waits, still not looking at Jas for too long)

Ma: (Steps back with her hands raised slightly) “There, all done…”

Jasmine: (Breathing a little faster now, still waiting for the feeling of harsh pain on her skin from a strike, or worse. She continues to correct her mistakes bit by bit, edging back up to this very moment. It’s difficult to think clearly, her head still feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton balls)

Nick: *hushes her and pets her hair* You’re going to be okay, doll… You’re going to be just fine.

Jasmine: (Finishes her assessment of herself and its not too pretty, there were plenty of things she could’ve done much more efficiently. She tenses and quietly mewls like a small feeble child would, closing her eyes tightly while some tears drip down. She’s in her protective state now, again limp like a Raggedy Ann doll while waiting for the worst to occur, although she’s partly aware that it isn’t necessary anymore as her Dad is holding her)

Ma: (Reorganizing everything and giving the remaining few bloodied spots a thorough wipe down)

Teshteal: *blushes a little and rests his head on her shoulder, letting himself get lost in the safety of being held by someone so kind. He wonders briefly why he’s suddenly become so attached to Joyce*

Gilbert: (Squirms in his pouch when he wakes up from his slumber, scratching at the zipper to alert everyone that he is now awake and in need of a snack)

Joyce: (Frowns at her ferret who ruined the moment) “I think he’s awake again.” (Pulls back from Teshteal and unzips her pouch) “It’s his feeding and play time. Hold on, I’ll be right back after I go put him up in my room. Don’t go anywhere!” (Smiles at Teshteal then rushes to run up the staircase)

Teshteal: *makes a small wave with a small smile, blushing slightly still from the close contact of the moment*

Gardio: Looks like you have quite the crush. *leaning on the mop with a wry smile*

Teshteal: *face flushes more. He didn’t realize how love struck he was until the old ghoul pointed it out* That’s what this is? *runs his hand through his unkempt hair in a panic* I shouldn’t get any closer-

Gardio: Why? You seem happy.

Teshteal: *paces, tail twitching in agitation* Yes, but what if this is part of my programming? *stops to face the glowing one* What if these feelings aren’t genuine?

Gardio: *smirking knowingly* I saw you tense up and I’ve seen you easily toss people over your head when they grab you. You were about to do that but you stopped. *points at him* You stopped because you wanted to protect her from yourself.

Teshteal: What about when I’m close to her?

Gardio: Do the voices stop?

Teshteal: *freezes for a moment* What?

Gardio: I’m assuming this programming makes you hear voices. Do they stop when you’re around her? Does it feel like they’re trying to get you to do something for them? Or do they quiet down?

Teshteal: *blinks with some sense of clarity* They… stop. Mostly. At least when we were hugging just now, they were drowned out. It felt safe. *hugs himself a little to mimic the gesture*

Gardio: Then what do you think? *goes back to mopping the floor*

Teshteal: *blushing again and covers his mouth at the realization that he might be genuinely infatuated with Joyce*

Nick: *stroking her hair still to reassure her that she’s safe*

Jasmine: (Sniffles and covers her face with her hands, whimpering as her confused mind tries to debate whether or not it’s actually safe or she should stay in her protective state)

Joyce: (Settles Gilbert in her room, making sure he and the two puppies are well fed and have plenty of toys to play with) “There we go…” (Looks at her window at the bright blue day, a shadow darting in the trees catching her attention) “Uh oh…” (Rushes down the stairs) “Donny!”

Donovan: (Rushes out of the med room and meets her by the stairs, motioning for her to lower her voice as go not startle Jazzy) “What is it?”

Joyce: (Points outside, speaking in a whisper) “I think I saw them again past the trees, though I’m not sure…”

Donovan: (Swears and rushes to grab his coat and gear from the closet) “And we’ve got mirelurks on the shore that blew in from the storm…”

Joyce: (Also tries to grab her stuff so she can help him)

Donovan: (Stops her by placing a hand on her shoulder) “No Joyce, I’ve got it. You stay here and help Ma if she calls for it or if they come back. Maybe they’re just sniffing around again.”

Pirate: (Whines in anticipation, sitting by the door with her tail thumping)

Teshteal: I can help. *wild grin at the thought of fighting a few mirelurks* It’ll go by a lot quicker if I go! *crouching and swaying his tail like a cat watching a mouse*

Nick: You’re okay. You’re safe. We’re just giving you some blood so you can get back on your feet faster. *smiling down at her. He rubs her stomach again to soothe some of her anxiety*

Jasmine: (Malfunctioning, her mind can’t seem to make up its mind on what to do at the moment or even make much sense on what’s happening. So she just goes into cuddly kitten mode and puts her arms back around Nick while snuggling close to his chest, focusing on the soothing motion of his hand to help ground herself)

Nick: *keeps up the gentle gesture*

Donovan: (Slings his rifle over his shoulder, giving the gremlin man a nod) “The mirelurks are an easy fix, we just destroy their eggs and wipe them out. However, we’ve got some Trappers who recently moved in and are camping out nearby at the quarry, or more accurately Trappers-In-Progress as they aren’t fully insane. They haven’t been hostile to us yet, but we have seen ‘em sniffing around the farm. It’s better to be safe than sorry, only a matter of time before the fog takes ahold of them completely.” (Opens the front door, scanning the lawn for any sign of someone hiding)

Pirate: (Goes bolting outside, barking like crazy as she starts sniffing around)

Teshteal: So they can be reasoned with, then. I can tail you if things get nasty.

Gardio: Or I could follow. *to Teshteal* Sorry, Tesh, but your horns and tail are more noticeable than the glowing cracks of my skin.

Teshteal: *pouts*

Gardio: Hey, don’t be like that. This will give you more time with your new friend. *smiles warmly at the little devil*

Teshteal: *glumly* I suppose you’re right.

Gardio: Besides, we still don’t know if the vault’s hunting you or Jasmine. It would be safer for both of you.

Teshteal: *freezes in terror at the mention of the vault. Shaky whimpers as he cowers, his tail wrapping around his body for security* I hadn’t thought of that.

Jasmine: (Matches her breathing with Nick’s gentle rubs to further secure herself in reality, clawing at his shirt with a whine because she’s tempted to start scratching at her skin for her previous mistakes)

Ma: (Keeping a close eye on the girl, thinking about increasing the speed of the blood transfusion as there seems to be no negative reactions)

Nick: *Takes her hands in his to keep them occupied, rubbing small circles on the back of hers* Ssh. No need to punish yourself for that.

Jasmine: (Raises her head to gaze up at her Dad, her situation still not clicking in place yet but at least she’s not breaking down or panicking)

Donovan: “Wait- What?!? This vault could be hunting you and Rosie right now as we speak!?”

Joyce: “How did you get out in the first place then?”

Teshteal: *backs away with his tail between his legs at Donovan’s yelling* We were all put in cryostasis in the vault and I thawed out earlier than we were supposed to. I tried to get to Rosie but the security measures were too strong for me to combat at the time. I couldn’t even save the others in the vault. *clutches his hair with a whine at the guilt* I couldn’t even save them. *shaking his head in distress* Useless, useless, useless Linus. Can’t even protect an innocent person and now we’re probably all in danger-!

Gardio: *firmly to Teshteal* Stop. You’re not useless. You haven’t done anything wrong. *to Donovan* We don’t know. It’s a possibility. Now I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t yell at my friend.

Teshteal: *still clutching his hair, trembling like a leaf at his past mistakes*

Donovan: (Gives Teshteal an apologetic look as his face softens and his voice lowers) “Apologies, I didn’t mean to yell at you nor be angry with you as you have done nothing to warrant that.” (Rubs his forehead) “With all that has happened, getting Rosie back and seeing how far she’s fading, it’s taking a toll on me. I’ll try to keep better control of myself from here on out.”

Joyce: (Hesitantly shifts closer to Teshteal, opening her arms to offer another hug) “You’re not useless to me…”

Donovan: (Still terrified at the thought that someone could come and drag Rosalinda back to hell as he witness them do over two hundred years ago, he could never get the pleas or the screaming out of his mind…)

Teshteal: *No response. Just muttering* I left them behind. I left them behind and they’re probably dead because of me. I left them behind… *keeps beating himself up. Stuck in a loop*

Gardio: *to Joyce* You can hug him. He said he felt safe with you. *To Donovan* I think it’s best we head out, now, to make sure it’s just trappers and not something worse. *already put his holster on and has a pistol ready to go*

Nick: Hey, doll. *still warmly smiling down at her*

Jasmine: (Blinks at him, not responding while her eyes search his comforting face)

Ma: (Ups the speed on how fast the blood is trickling into the girl)

Jasmine: (Eyes widen when she registers the blood filled line going into her arm, crying out as she paws at it with one hand. She’s not ripping it out, just lightly patting it to express she doesn’t like it)

Donovan: “Alright then, let’s see what we’ve got out lurking out here.” (Leaves the house and follows Pirate into the woods)

Pirate: (Sniffing the ground as she follows a scent of a human)

Gardio: *follows him, keeping an ear out especially for ghouls. Maybe he can get some information from the locals if there are any ferals about them. He grips his gun tightly*

Joyce: (Silently moves in to swoop Teshteal in a warm hug. She’s a taller than him so she slightly bends down in order to press her forehead against his)

Teshteal: *freezes and looks up just to be sure who’s hugging him then tries to pull her down closer to his level so he can hug her back, and pretty tightly too. He quietly cries, the guilt clawing at his mind and how he could have done better*

Joyce: (Recalls when Donny or Ma would hug her whenever she would break down badly, remembering what they would do. She carefully guides Tehsteal to the living room and onto the sofa so they are both seated, letting him hold her tightly) “Hey, it’s gonna be okay…” (Has only known him for less than a day, but she still feels a strong connection to him)

Nick: Shh… It’s alright kiddo. *takes her hand again* We need to do this so you’ll get nice and strong again. Alright, doll?

Jasmine: (Whines and starts lightly kicking her feet like a toddler to further emphasize that she doesn’t want this IV in her) “No…”

Donovan: (Hears a branch snap when they get deeper into the forest and holds out his rifle infront of him) “Who’s there?!?”

Pirate: (Growls aggressively and gets into a fighting stance, ready to pounce)

Trapper: (Squatted down behind a tree a few yards away, cackling maniacally to himself while muttering nonsense to nothing)

Donovan: (Slowly starts approaching, keeping his guard up) “It’s the same bloke from last time, he tried to jump our fence while Joyce was out in the yard…”

Gardio: *nods and keeps his gun ready in case he gives them any trouble*

Teshteal: *shakes his head, his voice muffled in the fabric of her clothes* You don’t understand- I could have saved them! I had the opportunity but I chose Rosie instead! I could have saved them. Useless. I’m still the worst.

Joyce: (Hugs Teshteal tighter, leaning backwards so they are both laying back on the sofa) “Hm? And why did you choose Rosie?”

Nick: Rosalinda, please. You need this blood. *rubs the back of her hands again with his thumb* Just a bit longer. Okay, Kitten?

Jasmine: (Stops kicking and fussing, blinking down at the IV line in thought. She gives another soft cry and buries her face in Nicks shirt while putting her arms around his shoulders, not fighting any further but she still isn’t happy about it)

Ma: (To Nick with a sad smile) “It’ll take about an hour or so for the transfusion to finish. In the meantime I have some things to take care of, do you need something before I go?”

Trapper: (Looks up, slowly rising to his feet) “You-?!? the Fog hasn’t taken you yet?”

Donovan: “I’m a ghoul and we have fog condensers, no it hasn’t. Were you just on my property? I thought I warned you to stay away.”

Trapper: “Why? It’s only a matter of time until the Fog gets ya and your girls, or the Island sends it worst your way and everything gets ripped to shreds.” (Steps closer with his hands out like he’s going to grab them) “So what’s the point in waiting around?”

Donovan: (Points his rifle between the Trappers eyes) “Don’t. This is your only warning.”

Trapper: (Stops in his tracks, edging closer as if he’s testing the two men)

Gardio: *has his gun trained on the trapper*

Nick: *Shakes his head at Ma then pats his daughters head* That-a-girl…

Jasmine: (Grips her Dad’s shirt tightly with her small hands while she softly sniffles on her tears)

Ma: (Leaves the med room to let the two rest in peace. She quietly slips by Teshteal and Joyce in the living room, noting that Teshteal seems to be having a breakdown. She takes her large bucket and several smaller ones, leaving to milk the cows)

Teshteal: *sniffs* She’s a kid. I heard her screaming for help before we went on ice. *doesn’t realize how intimate the situation looks from the outside because he’s so wrapped up in his own trauma. He’d be bright red with embarrassment if he were more aware*

Joyce: (Pets his hair, avoiding his horns. She’s also oblivious to how intimate the position they’re in is, she’s just comforting her friend like Donny and Ma do with her. It’s the only way she knows how) “You wanted to save a screaming and crying little girl from being tortured? That sounds very noble to me, you couldn’t have known that the security would be too tight…”

Trapper: “So, you gonna shoot me this time?”

Donovan: (Still has his gun trained) “Do I have to? What were you doing back here?”

Trapper: (Only laughs at his question)

Donovan: (Frowns) “Where you scouting out our home? Checking to see if we had left or were taken down by the storm?”

Gardio: *glares at the Trapper*

Teshteal: *sniffs and buries his face in her shoulder* I could have done better…

Joyce: “You did your best, and it’s obvious that you care about her so that secures that claim.” (Racking her brain for something to say, she’s still extremely young and doesn’t have much wisdom through life experiences gained yet. She wishes Donny or Ma were here to help, but for now she just curls up close to Teshteal with her leg partly slung over his for extra security and comfort. Again, she’s oblivious to how this would look from the view of someone walking by)

Trapper: (Frowns back at them, shaking his hands in the air) “You could shoot, you know.” (Takes two steps back) “I can just walk away! You’re gonna let me walk away?”

Donovan: (Growls lowly) “If I see you or anyone from your group around my home ever again, I’m putting a bullet between your eyes no questions asked.”

Gardio: *frowns. The guy reminds him of Teshteal in a way. Only unlike Teshteal his morals are a bit dubious*

Trapper: (Backs away, laughing maniacally again) “You might come to regret that, buddy.” (Starts strutting off)

Donovan: (Gets defensive) “Is that a threat!?! Are you threatening my family!?!”

Trapper: (Walks backwards and raises his hands, mocking him) “Who knows? You decide!” (Keeps walking away back to the quarry)

Donovan: (Snarls, half tempted to shoot the man in the back just to be sure he’s not reporting anything. Although, that just might send the others running over)

Teshteal: *seems to settle down a little more. Suddenly feels like he needs to come clean about his feelings* Joyce…? I need to confess something to you. *sniffs* Promise you won’t get mad?

Joyce: (Sweetly) “Hm? Yeah, sure! I’ll keep an open mind!” (Glowing brightly, emerald green eyes peeking down at him behind her wavy blonde hair that’s fallen over her face)

Teshteal: *turns his head to face her, eyes just a bit red and puffy. He reaches up and tenderly strokes the hair out of her face. For a moment he’s stunned by bright emerald eyes. Reminds him of Gardio’s before the war- he always thought he had nice eyes despite just being friends* I know we’ve only known each other for less than a day but I think I might be infatuated with you. *watches her expression carefully for disgust or pain*

Joyce: (Eyes glow brighter with excitement and adoration while a warm smile blooms on her face) “What does infatuated mean? Does it mean what I think it means? Do you have a fondness for me?” (Notices that his eyes are red and her face fills with deep concern) “Oh no, are you alright?”

Gardio: *whispers to the other ghoul* Might be wise if we take turns keeping guard, Donovan.

Donovan: (Doesn’t let his guard down) “Just what I was thinking.” (Waits until the Trapper is out of sight before turning to Gardio, motioning to head back) “I’ll give the turrets and the wall a quick once over to reinforce our security.”

Pirate: (Follows alongside her dear owner protectively)

Gardio: *follows him back, taking note of the surrounding area* If you have any scrap, I recommend making more turrets to bolster your defenses. Lucille seems to know about robots from how she handled Nick breaking down. Maybe ask her to build one for defense? Just some suggestions, Donovan. *shrugs, not sure if he’ll even take them*

Donovan: (Gives him a nod) “That’ll work if she’s up for it. I brought everything from our farm and only do some maintenance here and there.”

Teshteal: I’m fine. I was crying, remember? *smiles a little and nods* To answer your question, yes. I have a fondness for you. Romantically, in fact. It’s still too soon to tell if anything will come of it. Hell, I don’t know if you feel the same.

Joyce: (Radiating light as she shines with excitement at the confession) “Romantically like me? And you don’t even want something from me? You’re not pining for that kinda stuff, right? No skipping to third base.” (Quietly to herself) “No of course not Joyce, he’s not like them.” (Turns her attention back to Teshteal, blushing cutely as she squeezes his shoulder) “I think I have an attraction to you too. Although, I’ve only been alive for four years, and only one as my own person…”

@lucilleandherrobots

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #nick valentine #fallout original character #fallout oc #fallout roleplay #fallout rp

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misty-zzz · 10 months ago

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Chapter 9

Finally writing block had let me go, off to its next victim 🤷

It’s a tad bit of a shorter chapter, but I think it’s a nice one :)

The Wubbox offered its gifts. Shiney clear stones, filled with potential. Dragong steals them right as he lays eyes on the valuables. He shut his eyes, but his concentration was halted by Auglur. They motioned some towards Dragong, he immediately remembers what he’s supposed to do. Not for the gems. He places the three gems on the goopy ground, and clears his throat.

“Thank you… for these supplies…” his eyes scatter around, avoiding any sort of eye contact. Auglur pushes him foward. “And, uhm- these will be a great help for me, and… I am appreciative of it.” He smiles quite awkwardly. Auglur eyes hint in a faint smile. Can’t tell too much of emotion in a floating eyeball flower. Tootoo smiles back, “It’s our pleasure!” She says.

“Anyways, back to this, I’ve finally remembered what I had to do.” Dragong crushes the crystals under his weight. He continued until it was fine dust — but it was just what he needed. He gathers the pile of dust up, and spits right into his palm. This is what magic is like for the monsters. A tad bit strange, but what’s needed.

Fiddlement seemed a tad bit disgusting by the now ball of spit and fine dust. Dragong carefully shapes the mixture into a round fire emblem, somehow able to with his cymbal hands. “Magic for us is weird. I’m not sure how our ancestors found out about this.” Dragong finished the reshaping of the mixture. So he does as he remembers, and places it on top of his forehead.

The orange sludge seeps into his skin and scales, his eyes are shut, and there was a faint glow of red radiating from him. His eyes peel back open. His magic was back, at least for fire balls.

“Did it work?! Fiddlement eagerly tilted forward. Dragong moves over to an area with no one. He draws out the same symbol mid air.

The symbol makes a light carve in the air, quickly becoming a cloud of fire. It shoots out, blasting the wall of the workshop. Gunks of the wall goop fly in every direction. “I did it!” Dragong’s wings burst up. “Oh how I missed magic!” He grins with his sharp teeth.

There were a couple of more explosions from Dragong. Eventually they decided the time had to come. Dragong was going to leave the hole. He’ll miss the triple element ethereals, sadly they aren’t able to join along.

“Don’t tell them about us.” Auglur plead the four. “I don’t want us to be found out by the mythicals. Especially after all I’ve heard from Dragong.” She sighs. “I promise, only we will know.” Tootoo assured her.

“Maybe I’ll come back here every once in a while.” Dragong thought out loud.

They headed off to the outside. Finally Dragong will smell some fresh air. For someone who had been trapped in a cave for so long, he really was a bundle of energy. He bounces on the walls, exploding everything in his path. The only area Wubbox forced Dragong to stop was the areas with the cave paintings.

Along this area, Dragong had a moment to slow down. “Sorry about that, way earlier.” He starts apologizing for seemingly nothing. “For what?” Fiddlement questioned. “That thing with auglur, how she made me say thank you and that stuff.” Dragong grumbled. “We’ve been working on our manners, I guess.” He went on “We knew that eventually we would have to see other monsters eventually. And we didn’t want them to see us as rude or anything.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that!” Tootoo exclaimed. “I’d rather have someone be kind than to be mean when I first meet them!”

“I guess I just kinda saw it as awkward.” Dragong drags along the dirt path.

With a few back rides on Dragong, and a whole lot of walking. They had done it. Now Dragong will reintroduce himself. A new era for him!

He takes his last breath of cave air, and his first in a while of ethereal air. But everything besides the air was ethereal. A group of monsters stood a couple of feet away.

“A little tweedle told me that someone was going inside that cave.” Laughed the small, stout, orange monster. “Is that-”

“The mythicals!” Dragong cuts off Tootoo. “Why in the name of galvana are you here?” Dragong snapped. He hated that Buzzinga. “For you, of course. Eventually you would wake up, we knew it wasn’t permanent.” The edges of his mouth curl. Something bad was about to happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some silly notes::::

GUYSSSSS AAAAAHHAHAHAH

I’m SO excited to write the next chapter, FIGHTING AND ARGUING, LETSSS GOOOO!!!!

Also I kinda want to write a part 2 to fate of the stars, but then there’s another one shot in my mind too. Augahagah. I think I’ll write part 2 when all the adult celestials are released. Okay I think I’m going to go insane. 💃🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼💃🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼💃🏼💃🏼💃🏼💃🏼

#msm #my singing monsters #broken titan au #msm broken titan #msm au #au #fanfic #fanfiction

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twignotstick · 6 months ago

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TMNT: SECOND SHOT - Arc 1, Chapter 1: Introductions and Invitations ✉️

Notes at the end :)

Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): vague descriptions of bodily functions?? nothing is described grossly or anything (turtles don't only hide in their shells as a defense mechanism, mah boys aren't quite all there yet) (be kind) (he will be mocked at a later time 💀), sort-of homelessness, feral behavior

Words: 3,480

Summary: April really just expected a normal day.

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

April hadn't expected her day to end with hauling herself out of a manhole, with unmentionable gunk and liquid caked into her pants.

But, then again, she hadn't expected the day to start the way it did, either.

She had been finishing the same breakfast that her and her roommate had been reheating for the past 3 days: a batch of muffins that they had bought at a gas station for wicked cheap. Said roommate, Irma, was pulling her pants on and talking to the room about all the things she was going to do with her Friday.

When April got to college, she thought she might not be straight. When she met Irma, she knew she wasn't. Irma was a tall, Latina woman, with a muscular build. She always had her frizzy hair up in a messy bun on top of her head, and half of it was constantly falling out around her face. April didn't want to date her by any means, but Irma was hot. And very straight.

“Soo, what do you say?” Irma said, leaning over April's shoulder and snapping her out of her distant stupor.

“Uhm, sorry?” April stammered, pushing her cat eye glasses up and grabbing her empty plate. “I don't think I caught what you said.”

“Uuuugh, come on Roja-” Irma groaned, flinging her head back, “I said there's a party tonight at Taylor's! You should totally come out! We'll get you wasted!”

Irma was a party animal, and yet she excelled in all her classes in pursuit of her medical degrees (general physician with additional studies on the side). April, on the other hand, worked her butt off for Ds and Cs. In journalism.

April stood up and brought her plate over to the sink to rinse before putting it in the dishwasher. “I don't think that'd be that good of an idea, Irm. I don't turn 21 for another few months, and I'm not exactly,” she held her hand out flat in a shaky gesture, “party material..?”

“Party material?” Irma gasped, shoving herself into April's view looking into the dishwasher. “Girl, you could decimate that place. Besides, Casey's gonna be there…” Irma finished, raising her tone slightly and speaking over her shoulder.

April's eyes suddenly widened. “You mean CJ, right?” she asked, moving to grab her jacket by the door.

“Well, CJ too, of course, but…” Irma turned to grab her backpack off the floor by the couch. “I mean Cassie Casey Jones.”

Trepidation showed itself as April pulled her jacket on. “I'll… think about it. I have to check some spots tonight, but if I have free time after, I'll come.”

“Ooooo, I knew you wouldn't let me down, Roja!” Irma squealed, grabbing around April's torso from behind and lifting her to give a tight spinning hug. “I can't wait to see you there!”

As Irma rushed out the door, April tried to call after her, reminding her that her attendance was tentative, but Irma was long gone by the time she had the chance. April was left to sit in their messy apartment for just a moment longer. After looking around and promising herself that she'll clean up over the weekend, April headed out to her first class.

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

After her final class had ended, she waited on a bench for a while until CJ finally showed up. CJ had been April's best friend since day 1 of college. Sure, they didn't have any classes in common, and CJ was in studio arts and not journalism, but they stuck together like glue. CJ always wore baggy clothes over his lanky limbs, and today was no different. An oversized gray tie dye t-shirt covered more than half of his frame, with a screen printed design of a tiger on the front that he had made. Below that was a pair of huge baggy black cargo pants, almost entirely covering his white Vans. His black bangs hung limply on his face, and as soon as he appeared, April got up and they started walking.

The two had a schedule. Every Friday, after CJ got out of his last class, they would meet in the same spot and walk down to their favorite pizza place to eat dinner and talk. Sometimes they'd go get Chinese instead, if they were looking for something different. Usually the walk over would be when they talked about what already happened that day, and future discussions would wait until they had food. This was not one of those days.

“So you're seriously going to a college party?” CJ asked, slouching his posture to make the conversation a bit more comfortable for the shorter one. “How did Irma talk you into that?”

“Well, she said you're going too,” April mumbled, stuffing her hands in her jacket pockets before speaking up again. “Wait, you are going, right?”

“You think I'd leave you there alone to get eaten alive?” CJ said, smirking. “But seriously, you've never wanted to go when I mentioned I was going to a party.”

April's face reddened just a bit as she turned it away, and CJ caught the subtle change.

“She told you Cassie was coming, didn't she?”

“So what if she did!? I'm allowed to want to go to a party to hang out with a pretty girl, okay?!” April blurted out, scowling in CJ's face before turning away and crossing her arms across her chest with a pout.

April had met Cassie shortly after CJ. Well, “met” was a strong word. It was more “saw from a distance and stared in awe”. That was when she really figured out she wasn't straight. A beautiful, cute, tough girl who plays hockey and has a brain? What more could she ask for?

Maybe a tough enough spine to talk to her.

CJ just laughed and wrapped his arm around April's shoulders. “You should just let me set you guys up already. I mean, I think she thinks you're-”

“No!” April whined, grabbing CJ's shirt with the arm that wasn't being wrestled behind his back. “You can't do that! That's weird! I can't just get you to set me up with your cousin, she's gonna think I'm a weirdo, CJ!”

CJ sighed and pried April's hand off his chest, holding it to look into her eyes and halt their pace forward. “You're already being a weirdo, Apes. You've had one conversation with her. You'll never know unless you try.”

April clutched a little tighter on CJ's hand and looked to the ground between them. She was being weird, wasn't she? Normal people don't show up to hockey practices just to watch from the sidelines, even when the guy she usually talks to isn't there. Normal people don't hurry to leave when they see their crush's car pulling up to pick their best friend up. Man, she really wasn't being subtle, was she?

“Promise me you'll come. I'll get you guys talking. Sound good?” CJ said, lifting April's hand a bit to get her attention up to his face. He showed her a gentle smile, a smile reserved for just her.

April let out a sigh of defeat. “Fine, I'll be there,” she said, changing her hold on CJ's hand so they could continue walking side by side to go eat.

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

April was one of many students that helped with the school's public news. They liked getting local stories, and students could get those pretty easily. April had just, coincidentally, been stuck reporting on one of the seediest parts of the area. She had already been almost mugged twice, actually mugged once, and suspiciously stared at more times than she could count. And she had only been scoping out the place for a week.

April had actually found a really nice place that had really nice food, but the blind owner didn't seem to realize how many terrible things happened just outside its walls. She decided that tonight, that would be her first stop. She still had yet to find any good stories to post that wouldn't get someone arrested or her in trouble, but maybe Murakami would have some good news for her.

As April opened the door to the small establishment and heard the ding of the bell, she was welcomed by a heavily accented voice. “Welcome in, please sit wherever you like.”

April quickly pulled a stool out at the bar to sit on. “Good evening, Mister Murakami,” she said, tapping a bit on the table to get his attention. “How are you?”

The blind man's face brightened by leaps and bounds at the familiar company. “Hello again, Miss O'Neil. I was not expecting to see you back again this soon.”

Murakami had a friendly face, wrinkles only deepened by decades of smiling and laughing. The hair on his head was thinning, and there was an obvious bald spot in the center of his scalp. Usually, April would see him wearing a pair of dark, circular sunglasses. Tonight, however, she saw that the lights inside the building were dimmed, and Murakami's thin gray eyes were on full display.

“I was hoping I could talk to you,” April said, settling her bag off her shoulder and onto the floor beside her. “I still haven't found a good story yet.”

“Oh,” Murakami said, handling a bowl and putting it to the side of a tall boiling pot. “I am sure you will find something soon. You are such a curious girl.”

April shifted in her seat. “Uhm, Mister Murakami?” She said, leaning forward a bit. “I was wanting to ask you about anything interesting going on? Something local I could write about? Maybe about you?”

Murakami's eyebrows raised at the question. He started ladling soup from the large pot into the bowl in his other hand. “Oh, Miss O'Neil, I don't have anything interesting going on,” he said with a chuckle, “I am not an interesting person!” He laughed for a moment, before his face shifted to be more contemplative. “Well, there is my trash…” he mumbled under his breath, putting the filled bowl of soup in front of April. “Eat up, it's on me.”

“Oh, thank you Mister Murakami!” April said, happily grabbing the ceramic spoon presented to her and taking a scoop of soup to blow on. “Uhm, what did you mean by ‘your trash’? Could you elaborate?”

Murakami looked confused by the word choice.

“Could you tell me more?”

“Oh,” Murakami said, continuing to ladle the soup out. “It is nothing exciting, just a little odd, really.” He scooped silently for a moment, filling a few packages to be sold by the door so they could be reheated. April admired the business model.

“My trash has been getting looked through by someone every few days for a few years. I figured it was just some person in need. I even saw them once! Not well, of course, I haven't seen well for many years. Very brightly colored clothing.”

“Okay,” April asked, pulling her phone out to take notes. “What about this is odd?”

“Well,” he continued, “as of a few months ago, I have reason to believe that…” Murakami paused, closing the lid of a plastic container tightly. “That whatever is searching through my trash is not human.”

April sat more upright on the stool, stopping her motion to take a sip of the delicious soup in front of her. “And what reason is that?”

“A strange smell left behind,” Murakami said, stacking the packages of soup and moving them to the side, “and claw marks, deep enough in the walls that I could feel them. Mostly near my fence. And recently, it has been taking more. It must be getting hungrier.”

April lowered her spoon into the bowl. “And you said you saw it?” She asked, receiving a nod in reply. “How big was it?”

“Oh, at least the size of a child. That's why I thought it was human,” Murakami said, starting to clean the space around him. “That, and the fact that it always opens the bags so neatly and leaves no mess.”

Her fingers moved rapidly as April jotted down every note she could. “You said it comes every few nights. Do you know when it might come next?”

“Well,” Murakami said, a gentle smile returning to his face, “I have not seen it in-”

He was cut off by a soft clang sounding through the wall to April's left. Murakami's smile only widened as he moved his blind gaze back in April's direction. “What is that saying,” he said, gesturing with his hands, “if you talk of the devil?”

April quickly finished the soup in front of her and shoved the stool back, slinging her backpack over one shoulder. “Wait,” Murakami said, halting her swift movement to the door. “Use the employee door, back here. It will get you closer. Perhaps you can see it before it runs.”

April followed Murakami's lead toward the back of the store, with excitement filling her veins, to a door bookended by two metal shelves full of ingredients. “Thank you, Mister Murakami,” she said, gliding around him to reach the door.

“It is no problem, Miss O'Neil. I wish you luck,” he said, giving a small wink before turning to go back to the front of the store.

As quietly and slowly as she could, April opened the door. As soon as it was even subtly ajar, the rumbling and shuffling of trash being thrown around became more audible. The door opened in a way that meant she would have to open it all the way to see the dumpster, so she elected to open it just enough for her body to peek out. That meant less light would shine out, anyway. As she finally got it open enough, she stepped onto the concrete step down in front of the doorway and peered around to spot the culprit.

It seemed that during the time April took to open the door, the creature had already rifled through the dumpster as much as it wanted to. She could see a few trash bags still pulled slightly open within, with small punctures left around their openings. She had to look further around the door, further left, to actually find the thing.

It was turned away from her (thank jesus), but April was able to get a view of the bright colors mentioned by Murakami. It looked like some sort of black and orange heavy duty backpack, shaped to mimic the shell of a turtle. The rest of the figure was obscured by the darkness and the other trash bags on the floor, a few showing obvious signs that they were previously searched through. Next to one of the already scavenged bags sitting behind the creature was a purple soft cooler, with scraps of fish and discarded vegetables filling it.

If this thing wasn't human, why was it using a cooler?

April started easing the door closed as she stepped off the concrete step, just as the figure lifted its head, hands full of more scraps of meat and vegetables. April could hardly see the figure as the little light from inside started to vanish, but she swore she could see scaly, dark gray and red skin, and a beaked face.

That wasn't a backpack, was it? It was a shell. A real shell.

The thing in front of her was a giant, freaky turtle. The size of a person. In the shape of a person.

And now, it was staring her dead in the face with round, glazed over eyes.

If Cassie didn't think she was a weirdo yet, there was no way she could deny it after what she tried to do next.

She took in a deep breath before speaking in the softest whisper she could muster. “Hey, little guy..?” she said, moving her leg the slightest bit to step closer. “Are you hungry?”

The monster- no, the turtle before her flinched and sat up slightly when it noticed the movement. Its head started jerking up and down, as though analyzing if April was a threat. It started to move to the side, rearing up and-

“OH EW! EWEWEWEWEW-” April shouted, stumbling backwards into the brick wall in her attempt to avoid the warm liquid flung at her to no avail, as she watched the dark spots form on her sweatpants. “DUDE THAT IS SO GROSS!!!”

The beast made no response, just rushing to the fence to April's right and beginning to climb along the chain links. It moved at a speed that surprised her. Not like an Olympic rock climber or anything, but much faster than the average person. Much faster than April could.

As the creature was closer, she could finally make out more details about it. It was definitely the size of a person, maybe taller than her even, and looked like it had a similar anatomy. Its hands had thumbs, but only two fingers. That seemed to carry down to its feet as well. Its giant shell was covered in scutes that each showed a black and orange gradient, and its skin had a dark gray to orange-red pattern to it. Its eyes were small, and looked almost youthful. Obviously scared, of course.

April almost fell over trying to get away from the fence, but quickly realized she shouldn't do that unless she wanted to fall right into mystery turtle monster pee. While stabilizing herself, she took a glance back to where the monster had run from, only to spot that the purple soft cooler had been left behind, practically overflowing with scraps.

She carefully jogged over, closing the lid and zipping it so she wouldn't have to look at that anymore, before grabbing the shoulder strap and turning back to where the turtle had run to. “You forgot your-”

April was shocked into silence when she saw it staring back at her from a few feet past the other side of the fence, about as far from it as she was. It was hunching down onto all fours, staring at the cooler dangling in her grasp with longing, desperate eyes. It was making a clicking sound, chirping softly, almost under its breath. April stepped forward, wanting to offer the food out, but the creature quickly startled and started rushing off again.

This is the stupidest thing I've ever done, April thought as she slung the strap over her shoulder and started rushing after. She quickly opened the swinging door in the chain link fence and followed where the turtle had turned to the right. She found a manhole cover in the alley spinning on its sides, next to an open entrance into New York's sewer system. Can this day get any grosser?

As she slipped her legs into the manhole, placing her feet on the metal rungs descending down, April caught a slight flicker of movement rushing away. She quickened her descent and almost fell as she jumped down the final few steps. Her shoes immediately squelched against the muck spread across the sewer floor, and she had to hold down a gag as she looked up in the direction of where the turtle went around a corner. She started to move quickly after, but after only a moment, the sound of reptilian feet pattering away abruptly stopped and a soft thunk echoed in the dim tunnel.

April let herself slow a bit and glanced around the corner. For a moment she thought she had lost the creature, but then she saw the vividly colored shell sitting unmoving a few feet ahead. She slowly approached it, slipping the cooler off her shoulder.

“Here's your food, buddy,” she whispered, leaving the cooler about 6 feet away from the static shell. “I'm sorry I scared you. Feel free to come back for more.”

April was just about to turn back and walk away when she had a realization. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, made sure her flash and sound were off, and took a quick picture of the shell and cooler. The dim light of the sewer was barely enough for her crappy phone camera to pick up the shapes and colors, but she figured it would suffice.

She was totally bailing on CJ. She was going to need a good excuse, and even better proof.

With that, April turned on her heel and started walking back to where she came from, stealing quick glances every few seconds to see if the creature would peek out. To her disappointment, it didn't seem to feel safe enough, and she had to leave without knowing if it would even take the food she had willingly come into the sewers to give to it.

That didn't matter now. She needed to get home before Irma, and figure out what to do with the unmentionable gunk and liquid caked into her pants.

○●○●○●○

Yippee! Chapter 1! The first arc should last maybe 12 chapters at most? I've already nearly got like 10 of them written, and I think this chapter was literally made last October. so I've got a bit of a backlog (-﹏-; )

There's so much I want to talk about in this story, especially the totally spoilery stuff, but a lot of the exposition will come from this arc, so I must keep my lips sealed. I'm very excited to share it with the world :)

Chapter 2: Shared Hallucination 🧠 ->

#tmnt #tmnt au #tmnt fanfiction #teenage mutant ninja turtles #original character #tmnt oc #tmnt fanfic #tmnt fan iteration #twig writes #tmnt: second shot #i might post some stuff from later in the story soon anyway seeing as that's what all of my doodle pages are :/#but getting this arc out is priority number 1

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fruchtfleisch-art · 1 year ago

Note

Something like ‘home sick from work’ or ‘picnic’ could be interesting prompts for the microfics! :)

Three things: (1) my friend Danny has a lovely illustration/microfic of a Kirashino picnic here, please go admire it and the absolutely insane top-down angle it was drawn at.

(2) I apologize for how long this took... I started writing and then immediately got sick myself, which helped me come up with descriptions but really hindered my ability to write them down 😭.

(3) If it wasn't obvious by the slow post rate of these last few prompts, my free time is back to being somewhat limited, so this is the last microfic! Thank you so, so much to everyone who sent a prompt in! I'll definitely run something like this again someday, it was really fun :) This batch will be posted up on AO3 soon, after I rest a bit.

Kirashino microfic #6/6?: Home sick from work

It’s a proven fact: Yoshikage Kira does not take sick days.

That doesn’t mean he’s never been sick, necessarily, but he’s not the type to laze around in bed when he doesn’t feel well. The last time he caught the flu bug circulating in his office, he set a nighttime alarm for his twice-daily dose of fever reducer, wore a mask all week, and stayed out of the break room. His supervisor had praised him for his commitment and excellent work ethic.

“Kawajiri Kosaku”, on the other hand, has called out sick for three days, and is completely fed up with the whole ordeal. It just doesn’t make sense. He’s young, he has a strong immune system, and he takes excellent care of himself. He should be feeling better by now, or at least a bit less like week-old roadkill.

Three days in, and it’s all Kira can do to lie on the Kawajiri’s couch, desperately craving sleep he can’t have. Every time his eyes slide shut and his mind goes quiet, the tight, sharp ache in his throat prods him back to listless wakefulness, forces him to sit up and hack another wad of bloody phlegm into the nearest tissue. It’s miserable work. His chest hurts from coughing.

Time passes in sludgy fits and starts, the dawn light outside growing steadily brighter. The next time he rolls over to cough, it’s agonizingly bright, and Shinobu is standing in the doorway, a shopping bag tucked under her arm. When did she get here?

“Sorry,” she says quietly. “I didn’t mean to wake you up. How are you feeling?”

Instead of leaving, she comes in to tidy up his sick den, picking up trash and empty cups. It’s irritating. The whole point of him staying downstairs is to prevent infecting the one healthy person left in the house. What’s he supposed to do if she gets sick?

“Shinobu,” he tries to say, but his voice breaks with a raspy squeak. He tries again and nothing comes out.

“Hayato is feeling a lot better today,” Shinobu says cheerfully, giving no indication she heard him. “So I’m sure you won’t be far behind.”

Kira doesn’t want to hear about the disease vector she calls her son, doesn’t want to even think about him. The idea of Hayato contaminating him, of his virus squirming its way past his immune system, replicating, clogging his airways with gunk and boiling his brain to fevered mush is…

Another thick, sticky cough bubbles up and forces him forward, tears pricking his eyes as mucus shifts painfully in his chest. Shinobu is there with a pack of tissues when the cough is finally productive, brings a glass of water when he’s done with the tissues.

“That sounds awful, sweetie. Can I help?” She brings her shopping bag over to the couch. A thin blue box emerges from the shopping bag. From the box, like magic, emerges a fresh bottle of SS Bron.

Shinobu! Wonderful woman! His own Florence Nightingale. He didn’t even know they were running low on cough medicine. He watches her measure out a few milliliters of cola-colored syrup into a spoon, the harsh sunlight bouncing off the rim in a blinding white circle.

The light.

“T-” Kira says. Swallows hard, throat working a slimy circuit. Tries again: “Time is it?”

“Almost noon. Why?”

His last dose was at eight o’clock, not even four hours ago. It hasn’t been nearly long enough for him to have another. Didn’t she read the label?

Horrible woman! Is she trying to give him brain damage? Kill him?

He bristles, ready to admonish Shinobu for her carelessness, but the moment he opens his mouth she brings the spoon to his lips. A barely-there sweetness trickles over his tongue.

“Don’t worry about that. You need the rest,” she says, smiling fondly at him. “I’m not keeping you on a schedule, honey. You just work on feeling better.”

That’s not it, not at all! Kira isn’t worried about oversleeping. He’s worried about missing too much work and contagion and how he has, just now, possibly overdosed on codeine. He would happily explain this to her, but his throat is packed with ground glass and forcing out anything louder than a sigh is painful, terribly painful.

Shinobu bends down to kiss his cheek, then places a cool hand on his forehead. He closes his eyes as her fingers push through his sweat-sodden bangs, scratch lightly at his scalp.

It’s humiliating, being petted like a dog, or a… something. That’s it. Humiliating.

He’s too sick to move, though. So, so, sick.

Might as well make himself comfortable.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #shinobu kawajiri #yoshikage kira #kira yoshikage #kirashino #an extra 200 words because i suffered for this one... i lived it (sort of)#i had no nice housewife to buy me cough syrup unfortunately 😔 kira you lucky bastard #i also found out while researching that american cold meds like nyquil are banned in japan bc they're classified as illegal narcotics #while japanese cold medication often contains caffeine to help people who are working... i would not like to take that stuff lmao

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renegadesfic · 2 years ago

Text

I'm Vax, She's Vex

Another little thing from me! This one is fully self-indulgent and has the twins both being trans, Vex a trans girl and Vax a trans guy. AO3 link is here - send me comments if you like it! Note: there are a couple of lines that mention Syldor being physically abusive, so if that's not something you can stomach even in small quantities, be careful!

Full fic text under the cut.

“You look stupid in a dress.”

Vex’ahlia straightened the fabric out, tugging at the seams to try to loosen the stiff material. It clung tightly to her frame in some places and hung too loose in others, her body starting to grow and change in ways she was already tired of, in ways she’d been dreading since she learned about them.

“I know, but it’s not like I can go out there in anything else.” She sighed. “You look stupid in that too, that… whatever that is.”

“I think Father called it a tuxedo?” Vax’ildan shrugged, fidgeting with the fabric in a way not dissimilar to how his sister was wriggling and shifting in her too-fancy dress. “Do I look that bad…?”

“Not like, ugly bad. Just weird. It doesn't suit you.”

“I never thought I’d see you in that many sparkles,” Vax giggled, moving to tug at one of the sequins on his sister’s dress. “I wish I could wear it for you…”

“I would wear yours if I could. I hate this thing.” She adjusted it again, wincing as she heard a sudden ripping noise. “Oh, gods, did I-”

“Are the both of you done yet?” That was, of course, their father. It took no effort at all for Vex’ahlia to hate him, not since the day they met - not since the day he stole them away from their mother. Vax’ildan had tried desperately to please him, but it was obvious it wasn't working, his frustration with them ever-present, his distaste clear in every interaction - or lack thereof, Vex couldn’t bring herself to say out loud.

“Yes, Father,” Vax called from inside the room they were changing in. “We’ll be ready if anyone comes-”

“You had better hope they don’t,” Syldor snapped back. “If anyone comes to speak to you, they’ve already made more mistakes than I can bear. Just keep yourselves quiet and do not, under any circumstances, bother the guests. Understood?”

“Yes, Father,” Vax reiterated. “We won’t.”

“See to it then.” The sound of footsteps could be heard for a few moments down the hall, before their father turned a corner and the footfalls became too far away to hear. As soon as the sound faded, Vax began to cry. Quietly, of course, desperate not to be heard as he had been instructed. But it was plenty audible to his sister.

“You should take the stupid thing off,” Vex offered, trying to comfort him. “It’s not like anyone will come.”

“But if someone does…” Vax stuttered through tears. “Then we’re in so much trouble…”

“I don’t care if we’re in trouble! He’s so annoying and mean, I don’t care if we make him mad. He’s mad all the time anyway, so who cares!”

Vax flinched at the shift in the volume of his sister’s voice, the sudden gesture she made. The cause of that flinch, that fear, was not lost on Vex - she knew perfectly well that Vax took much more of the physical torment their father inflicted than she did, despite him protesting louder. He was easier to walk on, maybe that was why. Vex certainly didn’t like to let herself be walked on. She’d rather get kicked on her side than roll over.

But that did her no good in this scenario, so she swallowed her frustration and moved to wrap her arms around her brother.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.” She tangled her fingers in his slicked back hair, trying to pull a little of the gunk loose.

“It’s fine… don’t pull on my hair, it’s fine.” He grumbled, pulling away. She didn't move her hand fast enough, and tugged a little too hard, causing a yelp from her brother. She winced at that noise herself, sick of hearing him in pain, sicker that she could inflict more on him even by accident.

“Sorry…”

“It’s fine. Just…” He trailed off, looking down at the fine fabric of the tux he had on, fitting in all the wrong ways.

“Just what?” Vex pried. “It’s fine, you can say it.”

“I just wish he hadn't put this stuff in my hair, that’s all.” That was definitely not all, but Vex had to tolerate it as an answer for now. Instead of pushing further, she took a brush from the stand beside her and dunked it in water, starting to run it through her brother’s hair.

“What are you doing?” He squeaked, an undignified noise that made Vex giggle. “You’ll get this thing wet!”

“Not like anybody’s gonna see it before it dries. And you said you wanted the goop out, so I’m getting it out. It comes out with water, right?”

“I didn’t say- you shouldn’t take it out. I don’t want him to be upset-” Vex shushed him, continuing to run the brush through his hair, the gel slowly starting to release the strands from the glued-together mess it had caused.

“Looks like it does,” she said. “Almost got it. Relax.”

“Fine…”

“Vax?”

“Yeah?”

A silence hung in the room for a moment. Vex swallowed around the lump in her throat.

“I wish I could be like you.”

“What do you mean?” He turned around, a little bit of water slinging off his hair. “I thought you hated how I act around Father-”

“Not like that,” she cut in. “Like… how you look.”

“You want to wear this thing? Trust me, it sucks. It’s stiff and uncomfortable and pinches and-”

“No! Well, yes, but… no. More than that.”

“What, then?” Vax tilted his head, confused. Vex swallowed again, desperately trying to bury the anxiety in her chest.

“I wish I could be a boy.”

There. She said it. It was out in the open.

“Well, I wish I could be a girl. So I guess we’re even.”

Wait, what?

“What, what?” His response drew Vex’s attention to the fact that she had said that out loud, and she turned her face away, trying to hide her expression.

“You also want to change?”

“I… yeah…” His voice was nearly a whisper, clearly harboring the same fear she felt, though she tried her best to hide it from him. “Are you… mad at me…?”

“No! No, I… I just wish…”

“I would trade with you. If I ever could.”

Vex nodded, a silent affirmation that she would do the same.

“Do you promise I look bad in this suit thing?”

“I thought it was called a tuxedo,” she responded.

“I’m serious, Vex…”

“Sorry,” she shook her head, clearing the smile from her face. “Yes, you look terrible. Like, hard to look at terrible. Mostly because you’re clearly miserable… a little because it’s wet, but mostly because you're miserable.”

“The wet is your fault,” he retorted, “but… you mean it?”

“Yes. I do.”

He smiled at that. There weren’t words for a moment, the room silent and still - and then he pulled her into a tight hug, water from his hair dripping onto her dress.

She didn’t mind, she thought, if it got ruined.

“Good,” he finally said. “I’d much rather look good in yours.”

“If I can manage to get out of it after, you can try it on,” she smiled at him. “If I can try yours, anyway.”

“You can try it as long as you keep me from tearing it off myself first.”

“It’s that bad, huh?”

He nodded. Yeah. Yeah, it was that bad.

“Brother, just take it off. You look so miserable.”

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped, anger crossing his face. That anger quickly replaced itself with fear as he realized he’d responded too quickly, too harshly.

“I… what?”

“I didn’t… I mean…”

“Don’t call you brother?” She pushed.

“... Yeah.”

“Does it hurt? When I say it like that?” She grimaced. She hated the idea of hurting him.

“... A little, yeah…”

A pause, and then-

“I won’t anymore, then.” She proclaimed. “From here on out, forevermore, you are my sister.”

She expected her brother - sister, she corrected herself - to react in… some way. She wasn’t sure what she expected, actually.

But whatever she thought would happen, she didn’t predict him - her? - bursting into tears.

“Are you okay?” A pause. He - she - kept crying. “Sister…?”

“It’s good,” she finally forced out. “It’s really, really good.”

That was good, then. That was fine. She could work with that

But…

“Sister?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I change too? Can I… be your brother?”

“Yes,” a snap response - not angry, just immediate. An immediate, emphatic yes. He could be her brother, and she could be his sister. And everything…

“Everything can be okay,” he said out loud.

“Everything can be okay?” His sister - his sister - responded with a question, not a confirmation.

“Yeah,” he said, the same immediacy to his answer. “Everything can be okay.”

“He’s going to be furious.”

“I don’t care. You're my sister. And I love you. And nothing else matters, gods dammit-”

“Don’t swear!” She admonished, falling into the same thing their father always said when her brother - brother - made the same mistake.

“Nothing else matters,” he finished. “As long as I have you.”

That was a good enough finish for her.

“Brother?”

“Yes, sister?”

“I don’t want to be Vax’ildan.”

“Well, I don’t want to be Vex’ahlia. So I propose a trade.” Her brother smirked.

“A trade?”

“Yeah. A trade. I’ll take your name, and you’ll take mine. I’ll be Vax, and you’ll be Vex - I’ll be your brother, and you’ll be my sister.”

“I’m Vex, he’s Vax,” she said. Her brother - Vax, her brother Vax, the name no longer hers - laughed, a real, loud laugh that they weren’t allowed to do in their father’s presence.

“I’m Vax, she’s Vex,” he stated, sticking his chin up in the air, proud of himself.

“I like that, I think.”

“I think I like it too.” He grinned. “So, sister…”

“What, brother?” They were both grinning now, the euphoria of it all setting in.

“I think it’s time we get out of these clothes. They clearly don’t match us, and that just won’t do.” He giggled again. Vex - that was her name now - looked at the ground, fidgeting with the fabric.

“Right?” He pressed, and finally she nodded.

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Cool,” her brother said, and dragged the dress up over his head, discarding it and moving to pick up the shirt he’d had on before.

“Not that,” Vex shook her head. “Put this on.” She held out her shirt to her brother - not a blouse, just a shirt with a low, slight collar to it. Far too boyish for her, she thought. But maybe not for him.

“Trade me, then,” he said, holding the still-too-fancy blouse out to her. Wordlessly, she accepted the offering, tugging it on over her head.

“This looks so much better,” Vax grinned, turning around from the mirror he’d been looking at himself in. He drew a short gasp when he saw his newly christened sister in the silky fabric of his old clothing. “Oh, you…”

“Is it bad?” She winced.

“No. No, you look…” he paused, not sure what to say for a moment. Then: “You look pretty.”

“I… do?”

“Yes.” An affirmative nod.

“I’m pretty…” she smiled. “I’m pretty. I’m pretty!” His sister spun around, the blouse flaring out just a little at the bottom, barely noticeable were it not for the fact that they were both fixated on its existence upon her.

“You are,” he said, “and I’m dashingly handsome.”

She shoved him, gently, on the shoulder. “Gross,” she giggled. And then… “Father’s going to kill us.”

“Father won’t even notice.”

“He will when you start… growing, and I don’t. Do you really think he wouldn’t catch on before that?”

“Well, considering your voice is still high enough to sound like a girl, and I can lower mine, he definitely won’t notice that. And he doesn’t pay nearly enough attention to us to notice anything else.”

“He’ll find out eventually,” she sighed, a dark look crossing her face.

“We’ll run away, then.”

What?

“What?” She said out loud.

“We’ll run away! We’ll pack our things and leave, and go back to Mother. And she’ll love us exactly how we are.”

“Do you really think that will work?”

“It won’t not work.”

She smiled.

“I’ll have to trust my brother’s advice, then.”

“Don’t worry, sister. I’ll fight off all the terrible beasts in the forests.”

“With what, the kitchen knives you keep stealing?” She laughed.

“Something like that!” He grinned, puffing out his chest in a distinctly boyish way.

“Well, you'd better steal some more. And some bags for our things. We’ll need them.”

“We will.”

A pause.

“Vex?”

“Yes, brother?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. You’re the best brother in the whole world.”

“You’re the best sister in the whole world.”

There was comfort, then, in holding each other, in feeling the fabric on each other’s skin, smooth silk on her and rougher, soft cotton on him. Comfort in knowing what no one else knew - knowing she was Vex, and he was Vax, and they were exactly how they wanted to be.

They were good at keeping secrets. And someday, they both thought, they wouldn’t have to keep them anymore.

#vax'ildan #vex'ahlia #critical role #the legend of vox machina #tlovm #vox machina #they're both trans your honor

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