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draftingteacups · 10 months ago

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I understand that Special Events are non-canon in The Eternal Blooming Flower. But say how would you let Glorious Masquerade play out in your What if?

I love the Glorious Masquerade event, but the way that the event would play out in my What-If goes like this:

The first thing that would happen in this universe is the fact that Soni would definitely look around the City of Flowers and go, "This feels very similar to old Kalosian architecture." Makes sense since the movie was based in Notre Dame, which takes place in France

Obviously, she does a little bit of research into the city before she goes there, mostly because she doesn't want to do a social faux pas in a place that really reminds her too much of Kalos. Either way, Soni looked at the city itself for half a second before she gets dressed in an ensemble that would definitely remind her of her more formal attire as the Grand Duchess of Kalos.

I like the idea of a mixture of dark blue and gold accents with black-purple being the main color of the outfit itself. I feel like Soni wouldn't get a mask (mostly because I can see her just taking it off and not putting it back one because she's not a huge fan of masks in general) and get something like a circlet instead (looks like Xerneas' horns with clear crystals on top of it).

Happiny gets taken along because Deuce can't bear to leave her alone for a few days, which means she gets her own little outfit! A small pink mask with little beads that look like Oval Stones and a small hat that allows her little ponytail to stick up. As much as I would love for Happiny to have a little scarf, it'll definitely drag behind her like a little cape.

I could have Sobble here as well as Morpeko, and they would be wearing something similar to what Azul and Ruggie wear respectively. Obviously, the first half of the day plays out similar to the event itself: invitation, gets shown around the city, and then meeting Rollo makes Soni just feel a little uncomfortable, especially when Rollo himself looked into the students themselves to the point of getting Azul's eye prescription because I'm sure that's looking into someone medical history and I'd be wondering why anyone would do that much and even lightly comments on Soni's lack of information in a roundabout way that set off alarm bells.

Rollo: "When making accommodations for all of you to enjoy yourselves to the fullest, I noticed that Miss Monet has made no additional requests beyond what was stated in the itinerary, despite being the sole magicless person of your group. Do you truly not have anything else to add that you may have forgotten to write down beforehand?"

And even when Soni says that she doesn't, Rollo says, "If anything comes to mind, I do not mind making time to discuss any details with you on anything you wish to say."

Soni finds it weird that he points out that she was magicless when most people outside of NRC didn't know that, but that itself could be chalked up to her shared student status with Grim as a two-in-one student. Also Grim might just say that Soni doesn't have magic from the get-go because "the Great Grim ain't a familiar!"

However, that last bit poked at her the most because it implied that Soni withheld information that she didn't want written down.

Which is exactly what she did, but for the reason of her privacy and safety because people looking into Soni would potentially use it against her. Not to mention, she listed any needed information (i.e. medical, emergency contact, etc.) and the like on the papers themselves, so it's not like she needed more than that for Rollo to see. To imply that she still had more to say when she didn't and that Rollo was subtly pushing for more information about Soni while disguising it as a gesture of goodwill makes Soni think of all the verbal maneuvering that she had to do as Grand Duchess with many businessmen doing the same.

When the dance in the city happens, I like to imagine that Soni is made to come along with the others, awkwardly following along to the steps with Grim just spinning around like he does in the rhythm game. Happiny is being danced with by Riddle and Deuce, bouncing around cheerfully in the process.

That's when Rollo appears with a specific look in his eye when he sees NRC using magic alongside the other magicians:

"When you first came here, magic was truly a baffling mysterious force as a magicless person, was it not?"

Soni looks at the guy, her tone neutral as it could be, "It was, but who am I to tell people on how to live their lives?"

"Does it not trouble you? With how dangerous it is?"

Soni shrugs, "I've dealt with worse."

Then comes the night where all the Crimson Flowers are basically everywhere. Students are falling over because their magic is being drained out of them.

Cue Rollo's big reveal, and suddenly Soni understands why he mentioned that. She very much dislikes the fact that everything looks like it is on fire.

When they all fall downwards, Soni releases Dior and Charlie, the former teleporting everyone within reaching distance to the ground and Charlie snatching as many people as possible.

If we want to do the non-Championship Team, Nimbus, being a large puffy cloud bird, basically released a whole lot of fluff from using Cotton Guard as a cushion. Honestly, the idea that everyone just falling from a huge height, only to flop onto a cloudy-like fluff without having to use any magic was very nice.

When the others have to deal with the Crimson Flowers and pull weeds, Happiny is very enthusiastic about it because Happiny picks wild flowers all the time, so this isn't very different from what she normally does.

Ruggie, yanking Crimson Flowers with dirt flying everywhere: "Put your backs into it!"

Epel veins popping out of his head: "I can pull these weeds faster than you can breathe!"

Happiny, literally pulls off an entire cluster of Crimson Flowers with her bare hands: "Hap Hap!" This is fun!

I imagine that Happiny's given chores in Heartslabyul, and one of them is weeding the garden. It certainly comes in handy now that there's a magic flower that's trying to take people's magic away.

Then comes the plan to storm the tower and ring the Bell of Salvation.

Obviously, everyone's got an entire plan, but Soni goes, "You're all forgetting that I've got no magic. Those flowers can't do anything to me. And from what I've observed, they don't effect Pokemon either."

And what they settled on was for Soni basically leading the charge with her Pokemon taking down as many of the Crimson Flowers as possible. Dior using Psychic to physically pull as many Crimson Flowers away as well as assisting any passerby in the process. Charlie obviously uses his Flamethrower to burn away the Crimson Flowers in larger areas and even provides aerial assistance with Epel when the Crimson Flowers try to capture them both.

And Happiny doing her best to weed as many of the flowers as possible. Obviously, she stays behind with Deuce when he gets hurt and basically starts ripping apart the flowers even more when they start trying to hurt him.

And while it would be more heroic for Soni and the others to try climb the tower like they did in the original game, they could just teleport up to the top with the help of Dior or fly up there with Nimbus and/or with Charlie.

And in the process of catching their breath from the few fights that they engaged with on the way to the top, they stumble into the private area where they find the diary of Rollo.

And of course, they still go up against Rollo in the process, covered in flames and all. Hearing Idia's speech is certainly one that Soni understands the core meaning, but it could've definitely been handled better.

Soni looks at Deuce when seeing Azul use Deuce's UM to punch Rollo: "You did what? When did you do that?"

Deuce: "Back in the main area..."

Soni: "I looked away for five minutes-"

Deuce gestures to his leg: "I wanted to hit him, and Azul offered!"

Soni: "And I would've done it for free. We are talking about this later when we aren't at risk of falling off a tower and being roasted alive."

Malleus dealing the final blow with his lightning magic left the thickest smell of ozone in the air with Soni's arm hairs standing up on end.

And skipping to the song that happens during the party, Soni has her time to dance with the others again, although she's not all that good with it. In the background, Happiny and the other Pokemon are equally enjoying their time together at the party.

Side Notes That I Couldn't Put In:

A comical Pokemon for Soni to bring along in this particular event is her Skiddo because one, it's a little goat and they would see such creatures around. Two, it can eat the Crimson Flowers as a free snack. I cannot confirm whether that the Crimson Flower is fit for Pokemon consumption.

Soni using Kalosian and basically finding little to no difference between French and Kalosian; funnily enough, I like to imagine that Soni manages to get better deals this way from people at stalls because she's getting souvenirs for the others (Ace would complain if he didn't get something; Soni bought him a mug that Milcery uses to sleep in).

And that's the general gist of the Glorious Masquerade event!

#ask #what if #glorious masquerade #pokemon x twisted wonderland #soni monet #rollo flamme #happiny #gardevoir #charizard #deuce spade

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madstronaut · 9 months ago

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guess wot my fellow hoes (fellhoes?) you’re getting a two-fer-one deal

obligatory alpha post link below:

because I have been deep in my werewolf/hybrid!CODmen fixation while I was drunk off reading moondrunk I decided to take a break...

....by reading johnny boy and i dont want to even look at that ao3 history stat that tells you how many times you've visited this story IT IS A LOT

my record for one of my comfort stories is 79 times and that was back in january last i looked, and it doesn't count the copypaste backup i have in my notes in case of airplane mode. don't look at me rn (cough obligatory @the-californicationist G&G reference/tag here)

ANYWAY MOVING ON 🐺🐺🐺

Reading: Moondrunk Monster by @ghostgorlsworld

so I went to watch the Love Death Robots episode referred to here and UNFFFF forgot how good that whole series was! wolflovers, go watch the Shape-Shifters episode from S1

once again i love a good fleshed-out reader backstory and this one is no exception

also as a certified graves simp the spittake I had to clean up at reading the phrase “Captain Graves”

also wolf-friendly pain medication? please i would happily read an appendix or endnotes/footnotes about the lore/worldbuilding here <3

"They weren’t used to humans being kind to them."🥺🥺🥺🥺

me to myself: tbh in many ways this is the world we are living in rn

that line about reader sleeping in the back of the med bay reminded me of this famous pic I saw way back when:

U.S. Army nurse Amy Stuart of the 5th MASH unit deployed in Saudi Arabia naps on a cot while hugging a teddy bear sent by her family during Operation Desert Storm (February 22, 1991)

getting a little too real but at my age, always hurts my heart and deeply disturbs me to see people younger than me who i consider children going off to/waging war COUGH ANYWAY SRY ESCAPING REALITY BACK TO FANFIC-

piney has such a succinct, tight way of writing to set the scene and story premise up so well - fucking salivating at ghost taking reader to their tent and him getting miffed at her sitting on soap’s bunk until she sits on his <3 LMAO I SEE YOU GHOSTY YOU LITTLE LOVESICK PUPPY YOU~

You glanced down, seeing the Scottish flag on the wall, the photos of a couple that looked exactly like Johnny. “Oh, sorry.”

ok but also johnny WOULD have selfies of himself up on his own bunk

“ahm easy on the eyes, aint i LT”

“shut it”

You were American, so you didn’t have much taste for tea unless it was iced and sweet.

me, a rabid tea swiller, raising my hand: UM NOT ALL AMERICANS HATE “TREE PISS” AS TED LASSO CALLS IT OKAY (okay but I love that show so much)

unfff wolf!ghost crowding reader into his own bed forcing her to sleep in it is just *so many chef’s kisses*

Gaz was healed within a day, coming to visit you with a Snickers bar as thanks. “I’ve been saving it for an occasion,” he said. “Wolves…well, we can’t really have chocolate without quite a bit of pain so I thought I would give it to you instead. As thanks.”

ok this was the most adorable loredrop ever also literally heartbroken at the idea they can’t enjoy chocolate!!!!

The adjustments were freezing slabs of raw beef and plating it up still half-frozen. this reminded me of this frozen organic dog chow i kept getting insta ads for after dogsitting for a friend (if u can hear this siri/insta ad algorithms, FUCK YOU RESPECT MY PRIVACY) anyway in the ad the way the person plated it for their dog and the way their dog ate it with such gusto made me, a human, want to try the dog food lol

“Not everyone in America lives in Texas, Soap.”

👏thank👏 you👏facts👏

You smiled. “A small town in Oklahoma.”

“Bloody hell, that’s just Texas.”

👏also👏 facts👏 (don’t come for me texans this new yorker will (lovingly) fuck you up; god bless amurica)

He was wearing gloves, as always, but they were warm when he pressed them against the scars, fitting his fingers into the obvious claw marks.

The 141 was silent, watching Ghost with a mixture of surprise and horror. Price looked as if he were about to intervene, his knuckles white around his fork.

i fucking l o v e this entire scene

They were still strangers to you, but the base felt too quiet without them, and your skin felt bare without Ghost’s stare upon it.

i am shivering at how good this sentence is

ghost: has a record for being more wolf than human and acts of aggression against humans

also ghost: makes tea for reader regularly when she can’t sleep

also reader if you’re having a eat-three-powdered-donuts-in-one-sitting kind of day, you eat that whole box girl no one will fault you for it <3

Ghost hummed, then came the unmistakable sound of licking the sugar off his fingers. There had also been blood on his fingertips, from the night’s previous activities.

You don’t want to think about why that makes your belly clench.

😏😏😏we love the feral ones

also unexpected gifts are some of the best ones

i felt the adrenaline of the humvee ambush like i was watching a live action movie - i could picture the entire scenes very easily in my head <3

and ghost taking off her boots >>>>>>>>

A man in a skull mask was asleep in the chair in front of you, his head tipped back against the wall, his legs relaxed and spread wide.

ah yes, classic submission position~

The meek little nurse that had put a Colonel’s son in the ER.

meek is one of my favorite words. i have heard an alternate definition for this as “meekness is great power under control” and it stuck in my head ever since; pls bow before medic reader my meek badass queen

Your heart raced. It was such a human instinct, to see a predator and want to either kiss it or run from it.

ah yes imho the heart of why wolf/hybrid and enemies-to-lovers etc. etc. etc. tropes and fics are so popular~

Ghost seemed to like your attention, his ears perked at the top of his head. It was oddly endearing, and you normally considered yourself a cat person.

hehe big ghost wolf, smol floppy ears - i will not let this image leave my head

ok and the wolflore about the recessive genes!! eating it all up <3

also i know this is a ghostfic but soap blushing and mumbling bout his coffeeshop crush is soo <333333333

"you’re too young to feel old and miserable like me.” Soap smiled, a bit of cheer back in his eye. “You’re only three years older’n me, lass, I wouldn’t call ye old.”

literally me to anyone <30/even a year younger than me

"ALSO, yes i'm setting up for a future soap/cafe!reader fic"

okay the unholy screech that erupted from me at reading this author’s note i’m-

Graves sat in a simple metal chair, cool, calm and collected without a single blonde hair out of place.

me fully knowing graves isnt even doing anything here, just sitting: go off, king

“I wasn’t going to let that boy take my soul, sir,” you said calmly. “Not for something as worthless as a career.”

well said indeed <3

You wondered if he would come visit you, if you asked. If he would sit in your dusty, frilly living room and drink from your pumpkin shaped mugs.

PUMPKIN-SHAPED MUGS <3 <3 <3

Price looked up from a paperback, a twitch in his brow. He preferred to keep out of conflicts between the pack, only interfering when blood was spilled.

oh please my headcanon for price is that he inhales gossip like oxygen and keeps it filed and sorted alphabetically and chronologically in his mind palace to pull up as needed

They were on active duty, for Christ’s sake, it wasn’t like he could bend her over against one of those cots and stake his claim, COUGHOMGWHYTHEEVERLOVINGFUCKNOTCOUGH no matter how badly he wanted to.

The 141 hunted at night, so during the day Gaz and Soap would occasionally bring you a muffin for breakfast or a stray cup of coffee. Even Price, the fatherly man he was, brought you one of his extra novels to read while you were awake during the night shift, one of those cheesy detective thrillers that helped you get through the night without passing out on a patient.

who doesn’t love familial!141 🥰🥰

it’s nice to remind yourself that you’re still a simple woman that appreciates a nice mani-pedi and a good hair day.

this is so real - taking care of yourelf/reminding urself to feel human is so important <3

You had the rank and the experience, so of course, you got the lion’s share of reports. ahem this a small almost throwaway line but much appreciated - LEADERSHIP IS FOR SERVICE. TO SHOULDER THE BURDEN FOR THOSE UNDER YOU, AND LIFT THEM UP. TAKE THE HITS SO THEY DON’T HAVE TO - ONES THEY AREN’T EVEN AWARE OF IF YOU’RE GOOD AT IT. anyway stepping down once again from my soapbox-

ah reader i can think of many MANY MANY spicy ways to motivate ghosty to do his patriotic duty~

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

AND ALSO Reading: Johnny Boy by @ghostgorlsworld

first off being thrown into the deep end of the incredible lorebuilding had me ready to swim and dive deep without even taking a breath of reality because the story!!!! the worldbuilding!!!! absolutely immaculate

a recurring daydream/brainrot scenario ive gone back to time and again with my blorbos through the years is getting knocked up with their spawn and having to escape and go on the run and hide the child then have an implausibly wild reunion, often with some physically impossible makeup sex and then birth my own private sports team's worth of children to build our world empire (drama, romance, intrigue, adventure - i would buy out opening night tickets to the movieplots my brain spits out, anyway ty for coming to my BedTedTalk) anyway this has such a unique niche in the CODfics ive read with the almost enemies-to-lovers-back-to-enemies flavoring with brother’s best friend trope in play

on that note, shaking tom’s hand vigorously for sneaking johnny back into reader’s life, then backhanding him with my other hand - also for sneaking johnny back into reader’s life

cute-ass mactavish sire emma needs to eat raw meat to survive? her supernatural senses make her an old soul in a child’s body? no further comments, absolute perfection. i love the explorations of “hey scenting/being a hybrid, ESPECIALLY growing up as one, ain’t all its cracked up to be and is not just all 100% sexy times and funsies” and her picking up on mom being sad all the time a certain someone is near and declaring “if mommy doesn’t like him, I don’t either” just UGGHHHH i just want to give her a hug and tell her it will all work out, shes is in good hands (including but not limited to her own!) also tear the throat out of anyone who would dare steal her childhood (fistbumping my fellow immigrant first gen firstborns&eldest daughters who had to grow up too fast/take care of adults)

also one of the reasons i love this fic is the very fierce and protective love reader has for her emma and their really beautiful bond <3 fanfic can be so healing and tender in very unexpected ways and their relationship slipped past all my walls and armor and just stuck me right in the feels <3

the conversation about grandpa jack haunting them and turning the book pages for him was so sweet i think my molars rotted away on the spot, 🥺🥺🥺 piney i will be billing you for my dental visit expenses; be prepared to pay cos ive always wanted to secretly try out grillz as a new yorker girlie

also random brainrot but 1000% positive grandpa jack was a fucking hottie in his glory days (underground fighting rings? picturing tyler durden rn)

also please give mama reader a fucking medal, cutting up raw meats and organs first thing in the morning (EVERY morning) is a feat indeed

also johnny/reader’s first meeting at the funeral home is absolutely exquisite, the perfect amount of drama and angst!!! raaaaaa biting my pillow and tearing it to pieces

- reader’s physical reaction to the “he’s behind me, isn’t he” revelation

- johnny’s physical glow-up described through reader’s eyes is just UNFFFF *chef’s kiss*

- reader going straight into panic/mama bear mode re: emma

- “it could have been longer, john” HOLY FUCKING SHIT MY ICE COLD QUEEN PLEASE I CANNOT KNEEL BEFORE YOU FASTER OR I’LL BREAK MY KNEECAPS

- “your voice so cold it stung your tongue as you spoke. The ache in your chest was overtaken by rage, pure and hot. “Excuse me.” i am f e r a l for this line, this is PERFECTION i can taste the emotions here like viscerally on my tongue

- honestly kudos to reader for not punching tom’s lights out when she’s running to get emma from him

“I don’t care.” You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to dig your nails into his skin and hurt him like he hurt you. “We don’t need you, we never needed you. I loved you, and you left for years . Deal with the consequences.”

Johnny Mctavish, a wolf, a soldier, flinched from you.

It wasn’t the victory you thought it would be.

AAAAAAAA YES THIS IS ME AS I READ THIS REVELING IN THE ANGST

also the last line of ch1 being “Forget him. John always runs.” and summary of Ch2 being “Johnny comes home.” ????? gonna run out of my lipstick giving chef’s kisses to piney here

the way piney fleshes out reader and her story and history with johnny just makes me want to give her a ginormous hug, also like an all-expenses paid weeklong vacation to the maldives or something for the absolute bullshit she’s endured (might have to join you on this though dear reader my salary/responsibilities working in [redacted] means i also need an all-expense paid weeklong vacation to the maldives)

also I FUCKING SUSPECTED JOHNNY WAS SECRETLY TRYING TO SCENT READER WHEN HE SNUCK UP ON HER TO GET CLOSE ENOUGH TO SURPRISE HER BY PUTTING HIS MITTS ON HER SHOULDER; i love that emma picked up on this through her nose

“Because you still smell like me, kitty.” brain going brrrr being overloaded with conspiracy theories about teh many layers what this may mean

wolves were different from normal men. Territorial.

me, reading about fictional territorial wolfmen on tumblr: 🥰🥰🥰

me, reading about IRL men being ‘territorial’: 🤢🤢🤢

“Grandpa was like me,” she said, loyal as always.

i’ll be totally honest the character i fell head over heels with in this story was not johnny taking first place no - EMMA MACTAVISH MY HEART <3 i hope my future children will be brave, kind, wise, funny and compassionate like you <3

It seemed that the only person suffering in this situation was you.

this line + the short almost throwaway line of reader “laughing wetly” just before it just ughhh my heartache! shoutout to all the hardworking parents/caregivers simply Trying Their Best And Getting No Recognition™️ (madstronaut sees you and applauds you, great is your reward in heaven and or the pits of tumblrhell, dealer’s choice)

“It wasn’t your decision to make, Tom,” you said, your voice reaching that pitch that made you feel like your mother. god this got too real, when i hear myself sound like my mother sometimes (esp. when im mad) i literally narrow my eyes at my own reflection and have to check myself before i wreck myself iykyk

also freaking love the lore about hybrids/wolves being discriminated against in society and johnny’s own experience and pitfalls navigating the world! lorebuilding>>>>>>>>>>>>

You were dressed more appropriately this time, a Black Sabbath tee and sweats, your work clothes of pencil skirts, trousers, and wool sweaters currently drying on the laundry lines in the backyard.

ok reader i see you my little rocker <3 you would love saint vitus bar in brooklyn; make tom or johnny watch emma so we can headbang to our heart’s content and you can enjoy a well-deserved night out <3 (on that note #REOPENVITUSYOUCOWARDS)

Emma two-handed it, just like you tell her to. It seemed she was trying to be on her best behavior, the little traitor.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH EMMA YOU LITTLE DEVIOUS ADORABLE SHIT (said goodnaturedly) I LOVE THIS LINE SO MUCH

Something in your chest squeezed when Johnny tucked the blanket around Emma’s skinny arms, more gentle than you had ever seen him.

ok though real talk men being gentle and tender, esp. around kiddos - hi, yes please sirs you can indeed help me mop my panties off the floor

Susan didn’t know what to do with a little boy that chewed on the furniture and got sick when she didn’t let him eat raw meat.

i physically need to see fanart of young wolf!soap gnawing on an armchair leg

This was why you liked Charlie, he was so, so reasonable.

hello charlie or as i like to call you “walking beige flag” the way i would roast him if i was bffs with reader..

also emma drawing that wolf catcher memory and waiting until soap was there to show it to both him and reader - AAGGGGH I freaking loved this and how clever this is i can do an entire pepe silvia conspiracy board meme breakdown of why and how much i loved this whole interaction

emma knowing it is a tough memory for her mama but choosing to draw and show it specifically to johnny - and waiting til they are all in each other’s presences (presence? idk)

i can see reader fighting (a losing battle lets be honest this is johnny fucking mactavish) tooth and nail so far to maintain the armor of assumptions and explanations she’s told herself to deal with the pain of being in love then (from her pov) rejected and how this has bled into how she paints johnny to emma despite her best efforts

and yet as they say sometimes the body says and knows what the mind/heart cannot say yet and 1000% sure that little miss wolf emma mactavish loves her mom but is also sure that momma isn’t sure on where she stands with johnny

also ALSO the fact that jack raised both johnny and emma HAS TO MEAN SOMETHING RIGHT - even though they’ve just met i love the little tidbits of the special wolf-to-wolf and father/daughter connection they have

AND AND AND so my grand theory here is that i believe emma made and showed this drawing to johnny because from what she knows - she perceives mama reader to despise johnny on the surface, yet still wants him - but based on what she’s told her about johnny, thinks johnny may not want mama - and drew this to prove mama is still worthy and a great protector - “You haven’t got any teeth or claws but it didn’t matter.” - and “showing her off” to johnny COUGH ANYWAY THAT’S WHERE I’LL END MY THESIS TYVM

also i love the bits sprinkled around the fic about johnny’s eyes sparkling eerie/brighter when he gets worked up

Perhaps all the war and killing really was good for his temperament.

HAHAHAHA OKAY SHIT, MAMA, WHO IS THE DELULU ONE NOW????????? (tbh it’s me, hi im the probl-)

johnny trying to find excuses to spend his PMC savings & money on reader + emma - IRL me and my bills & student loans crying laughing hysterically at reader turning this down

“Shut up!” Tommy said, frowning at you from the couch. “Fuck, lovie, he’s a friend from work.”

The man in the mask raised a hand in an awkward wave.

HAHAHAHHA SIMON!!! his entrance totally threw me off but ofc tom’s SHUT UP (true sibling energy right here, no greeting, just yells) and simon’s lil wave just UGGGGGGGHHHH such a nice palate cleanser from the intense but delicious angst - also tipping my hat at the subtle way to introduce Bi!Tommy with the “he’s not company he’s a guest” line 😏

You felt Simon’s eyes on you, judging, appraising. You were sure Johnny probably didn’t have the nicest things to say about you–most likely that you were an irritating little girl that followed him around for twenty years then proceeded to get pregnant and raise the child without him knowing,

would love to know what and how TF141 thinks of mama reader from how johnny has described her…despite her own misgivings <3

Johnny was an unsuspecting kind of violent, always smiling and laughing until he wasn’t, until it was serious.

Simon was different. He felt older.

aaaaaa this is SUCH a good characterisation of them both

You had missed him like a lost limb-

ooh i absolutely love this phrase! I have one person in my life i went through a friend breakup with (iykyk - these are more painful than romantic breakups imho) and we mended things and discovered afterwards we both referred to our break in our friendship as ‘having lost a limb’ to other folks (!) sometimes birds of a feather really do flock together

“It’s just…we’re adults, and adults have tricky feelings. preach mama 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️

but also pls mama i know you have a kiddo but putting on nail polish right before a date? nooooooooooooooooo though chanel polishes ARE superior cos of that fat brush so all is forgiven <3

also obligatory FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING FUCK to charlie for forgetting the date, do you EVEN KNOW THE SUFFERING WE PUT OURSELVES THROUGH TO GET READY FOR A DATE? TO GET READY TO FACE THE WORLD OUTSIDE OUR DOOR, PERIODT?

IF SOMEONE DID THIS TO ONE OF MY GIRLIES I WILL BE READY TO FUCKING SHOW SOMEONE’S BITCH ASS THAT YOU DO NOT NEED TEETH AND CLAWS INDEED TO GET RIGHT FUCKED UP

anyway climbing down from my soapbox on behalf of women everywhere, back to the fic

as a tiny tiny redeemable bit - charlie having weekly dinners with his gran is a huge green flag trait

He stilled, looking at you. His hand came up, pinching your chin like he used to. “You havnae called me Johnny in a very long time.” The rawness of his voice broke you down into someone you used to be, someone that loved him.

me, extremely pleased, reading this: ah yes, in vino veritas~

The alcohol had dampened the anger in your chest, you felt…open. Open to talking about it. Bleeding the poison from the wound.

<3 <3 <3 this line <3 <3 <3

irl sidenote: u can also do this without alcohol my friends <3 trusted friends, therapy, long retreats into nature, safe places, safe people all very effective and cutting right to the heart in the gentlest ways possible, painful but highly recommend over the alternative (and lesser) options of keeping the poison inside <3

Within a blink, Johnny was kneeling before you, his hands on your knees as his eyes bored into yours. You felt a chill, a whisper of fight or flight pricking your neck at his predatory stare.

ahem hello this is it

this is what does it for me

kneelng for your prey <3

also i love that their first real physical intimate contact after reuniting, beyond that hug after the wolf catcher story, is johnny LICKING reader’s tears off her face

“All I had was a picture and letters, but I could get off just from you writing that you missed me, just from your smell lingering on the fucking paper.” whats that phrase? marines make do? 🥰🥰🥰

me, reading about lacy underwear getting shredded: mmmmf yes sexxxxxyyyy

also me: ok i just know that was expensive, cringing inside at having to replace it

also fics that have men talking to ur pussy as they take care of it >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I CANNOT WAIT FOR READER TO WAKE UP AND SCREAM AT HERSELF SAW PT 7 POSTED WOKE UP SCREAMING BLACKED OUT AND CONTINUED MY FEVERISH RANTING ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS FIC IN REBLOGS BELOW

#madstrothought #FaFiCoWriMo #fanfiction #call of duty #simon ghost riley #moondrunk monster #johnny soap mactavish #johnny boy #ghostgorlsworld #BlackPinecreations #werewolf au #simon ghost riley x reader #johnny mactavish x reader

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turtle-steverogers · 3 years ago

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hi!! for the steve asks: trans!steve, especially in the modern day?? like, how would coming out look for him w the weight of the captain america legacy that's only grown since he went into the ice; how would he feel about being seen as the a pillar of masculinity, etc. i just like ur steve thoughts & u are incredibly galaxy brained. 😊

Oh my goodness, this is a hefty, multi-layered ask and I am ready to crack into it. Some disclaimers first, though:

-I headcanon Steve as a trans man who chooses to go through the medical aspect of transitioning! Of course, this is not at all a necessary part of the transgender experience, it is just how I personally reflect my own experiences unto him!

But anyway! First, a few questions-- was he stealth during the war? According to some research I did, testosterone was first isolated in 1935, then approved for medical use in 1939. As Captain America, I would imagine that he would be given general access to that sort of isolated medical practice, and I wonder if he would have started injecting testosterone during the war (this might be factually incorrect, take it with a grain of salt). That being said, the access to testosterone combined with the serum giving him an inherently more masculine build would probably allow him to be stealth during the war, which for personal and safety reasons, I imagine he did. The only people who knew he was trans were probably medical professionals who worked with him and Bucky and Peggy, and even then, I don't know how he would be treated medically. Would he just be passively accepted, but not fully respected?

Anyway, the point is: he's not publicly out in much capacity, unless someone decided to spill after his death, in which case... that's a whole other realm of angst to delve into. It's hard to say if it would have been something kept under tight wraps until much later after his death when files become declassified or discovered and, well, he's dead so historians decide to prop him up as a posthumous pride symbol on account of his gender identity and also his speculated relationship with Sergeant Barnes.

Which, of course, strips him of his already botched agency upon waking up from the ice. Not only is he shoved into this all American mantle, but he's thrown into a world where everyone knows he's trans before he can even catch up on queer history and safety. Forced to shoulder this responsibility and face vitriol from those who don't accept him before he's had a chance to process this all himself, I imagine that puts him in a sort of place where he puts himself into a mold of advocacy first. He's more than willing to be a voice for trans folk and the queer community, but I imagine that's hard when he's catching up himself and also is still seen as a masculine symbol when frankly, gender identity is rarely as straightforward as that. I think it would be affirming in a way though? Like, being that masculine symbol as a binary trans man would have its benefits, but it definitely leads to some delving into his own probably old internalized transphobia and what being a man actually means to him and further how he maintains his own personality through the lens of gender and shedding preconceived roles that he would have to shake in order to fully come into himself.

The point is, he would have a lot of personal reflection to partake in-- a lot of which he might not have the time, space, and privacy to do. I can see him also advocating for that and spending time reclaiming his identity as his own before it is a symbol and taking that space back for himself so he can fully become who he is versus how the world sees him. So he can finally come home to his own skin.

#steve rogers #trans!steve rogers #this turned into a ramble that probably makes no sense #but thank you friend! i loved this ask #steve rogers meta

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captainjimothycarter · 4 years ago

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I DIE for pregnant Peggy and Cap Steve where they don’t know one another.

New York traffic has always been a bitch and Peggy regrets her decision of thinking the subway would be better than the bus, but it seems her bad choices follow her even underground where they’ve been stalled for an hour in a stifling train.

She denies the need to sit down from a broad blonde whose wearing sunglasses despite they’re underground and a baseball cap that’s pulled low over his face. Despite how she can’t see his eyes too well, she can see he doesn’t agree with her choices but respects them none the less.

And why should he? She’s eight months pregnant and it shows with her rounder-than-life belly and all the wonderful side effects of carrying a pregnancy this far along.

“How long do you think we’ll be here?” She asks the stranger. He’s the only one closest to her and he seems nearly as on edge as she is with the antsty people. She’s lucky its not packed to the brim, all the seats are just taken and a few stragglers stand.

“Given it’s already been...” He sighed and looked at his watch for a second too long, as if he’s struggling to tell the time. There’s something familiar in his voice, but it could be the exhaustion in the same manner it is the Brooklyn accent she’s growing used to. “Half an hour and knowing the system it could be a whole another two hours. You sure you don’t want to sit? I don’t mind standing.”

“I’ve been laying down all morning, I need to stretch.” Her backs aching, but what else is new? She’s stubborn, but not to the point of self punishment. She needs to stretch it out at any rate. If the pain gets worst, she will. “Knowing the system...Crikey, I hope not. I don’t need to miss another appointment.”

He winces in sympathy and it tugs a smile on her lips. “I’m sure the doctor will understand - its New York. You can’t predict these things. Or anything for that matter. Sure has changed lots.”

There’s a whimsical note to his voice, like he’s longing for something, for the past maybe. For a life beforetime that she doesn’t know, it’s hard to tell without seeing his eyes. She tries to imagine what’s behind those glasses, but doesn’t try too hard. Surprises are plentiful in life.

They make small talk for a few and she learns more about this stranger who pauses a few times to pick a kid’s toy up and hand it back, open a stiff window when they won’t budge and even the emergency hatch to let fresh air in. She learns he works with a team - leads them actually and he seems proud of that. He learns she’s new to the country and recently gotten a job working in the library. He talks about his time spent in the library growing up and now and its almost lost on him, the need for something in his voice that craves a balm to the pain that edges it.

She wants to understand so much but she’s not liable to. This isn’t her place.

It’s the pain that makes her pause first, a familiar sensation of the contractions that have been happening more and more as of late. What surprises her is the fact she feels wetness between her thighs before there’s a clear sound of liquid hitting the floor. Her eyes widen and she looks to the stranger, not for help, but confirmation that her water just broke.

He’s all action and not taking no for an answer as he he takes off the coat and lays her back on it. Hat and glasses go next. That’s when she knows him. Captain America, she’s seen him on TV quite a few times. All uniform and smiles despite the pain he had to be in. She doesn’t even have time to be in shock when the next contraction hits. This baby is coming and it’s coming out now.

“Look at me - it’s Peggy, right?” he breathes, holding her hand as tight as she is. “It’s going to be okay. I’ve helped my ma deliver several babies. I called a few people, a team is going to meet us at the next station. They’re getting whatever is keeping us up taken care of right away.”

“Oh that’s comforting,” Peggy growns, brow knitting in pain. She hates the worried look on his face, but he hides it well with ordering people around. Give her room. Water. Someone gives them a blanket.

“You’re going to need to push,” he tells her in a voice that shouldn’t be calm when she’s understandably panicking. “It can’t wait. It’ll hurt you and the baby in the long run.”

She doesn’t want to push, not here, not without medical help, but he’s right and his voice is far too calm for her to ignore. She tries just to focus on his crystal clear blue eyes. She focuses on the specs of green, the freckles on his nose. How he smiles with a lopsided grin and encourages her through another painful contraction.

She’s out of her mind with pain and delusion, sweat burning her eyes. Someones wiping at her face while he holds her hand, still between her legs. She’s not even sure what she’s saying, maybe she’s cursing him out, maybe she’s asking to stop, she can’t focus enough. The pains fogged her mind, all she knows is to push. The instinct drives her to do so, a final scream leaves her lips, followed by another.

A heavy scream of an infant whose gasping for air, her first breaths of a long life. Peggy isn’t even aware she’s sobbing when Steve cleans the baby up best he can and lays her in her arms, against her chest. She’s even unaware when he cuts the cord [with her permission].

It’s a long few hours that fade in her mind before she’s fully aware she’s in the hospital. Steve was there the whole time, she knows. Covered in her mess, but still that boyish, lopsided grin on his lips the entire time. Pride radiating in his eyes.

The hospital says the baby is doing amazing and she latched on like it was nothing, suckling from her with a hunger that rivals her own. Steve still stays, calmly talking to her, talking to doctors and nurses for her. Someone asks if that’s his baby or if she’s with him but he denies it.

“There’ll be news about this tomorrow,” Peggy says weakly, thanking Steve when he lowers the straw from her lips. “Captain America helps a stranger give birth.”

“They’ll also speculate that it’s my kid and I’m an ass for making you stand, not having you give birth in Avengers Tower, and so forth,” he huffed, rolling his eyes. “Though, I’d be proud to call your little one my kid. She about busted my ear with screaming.”

“Yes, how terribly rude of you. I could’ve given birth in a plush bed instead of the dirty subway floor.” Her nose wrinkles when his ears turn a shade of pink, laughing softly. “She gets it from me. Still, thank you Steve. You didn’t have to stay.”

“I got nowhere to be and you need someone. No one should go through that alone.” His hand had returned to hers, a comfortable presence in the last few hours. “Have you thought of any names yet? No need to rush.”

Peggy’s silent, because she has, her entire pregnancy she’s thought of names but none seem to quite match the honor it is to carry her. Her eyes fall to the sleeping baby, knowing the nurses will take her soon. She has soft, downy brown curls. Her eyes are green, a soft shade that make her heart drop straight to her gut. There’s a powerful life in those eyes that challenges everyone she looks at. As if to dare them to try to take it.

“What was your mother’s name again? Sarah?”

Steve blinks beside her, his mouth formed into a perfect O. “Pegs, you don’t...have to name your daughter after my ma - she would be honored, yes but if you’re doing it to honor me...”

“Your mother raised a fine son whose done a lot for this world, she helped many people, including my family if history serves me right during the first war. It would be an honor to name her after Sarah after your mother.”

She’s sure Steve’s eyes are wet, but she looks away, giving him privacy as he lets go of her hand to clean his face up and looks down on the baby.

“Sarah it is, then. Hello, little one.”

Peggy’s lips forms into a small, exhausted smile, the wave of exhaustion washing over her. She hasn’t napped, but she wants to. She’s also afraid to sleep, if she wakes up and Steve or Sarah isn’t here...

“Go to sleep,” Steve tells her, his hand back in hers. The other tenderly strokes a curl from her face. “I think you deserve a nap or two. I’ll be here - Tony has made it clear with the staff that I am not to leave unless you kick me out. I’ll make sure little Sarah is safe.”

“Thank you, Steve,” she sighs once again, laying back into the cushion. Her eyes are struggling to stay open, its a struggle to keep them away, but she’s glad that Steve’s presence is there beside her.

#Steggy #StevePeggy #PregnantPeggy #CapSteve #Sorry for the post #I'm being annoying #There is Steggy brain #Can we stop?#captainamericapeggycarterismysexuality story idea

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ascenteen · 3 years ago

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Unfinished- Priyanka Chopra (Book Review)

Book Title: Unfinished

Genre: Memoir

Book Author: Priyanka Chopra

The Book in 5 Sentences:

• Be like water- Be flexible: Learn adjusting and acclimatizing to the new environments. Reinvent yourself and overcome the fear of new places/change by opening up to unlimited possibilities.

• Work Hard and Take risks: When given an opportunity, you must try your hardest to know that you gave your best shot. Take as many calculated risks as you can because when you are out of your comfort zone, you see opportunities knocking on your door.

• Be independent: Be your own person. Have an identity of yourself. Own your choices, and above all, have the courage of conviction.

• Being Different is your strength: Think out of the box and do things that are unlike the norm because that is your superpower.

• Be grateful

Impression:

Unfinished is an extremely authentic memoir I have come across. When you read the book, you can visualize the story manifesting in front of your eyes. Her use of a simpler language and then slowly transitioning into a mature way of writing helps us understand how different she was as a child and how far she has come. A few constant themes are seen across the book that I loved the most were that she took the opportunity to thank everyone as often as possible. She took risks and was extremely aware of her thoughts from such a young age. Her parents were constantly encouraging her to take risks not only when she was a kid but also when she was at the peak of her career. She took responsibility for her failed relationships and also analyzed her career failures instead of giving excuses and blaming others. Through her story we can see the importance of an open culture in our traditional society. The book was very inspiring, informative, and humorous, engaging the reader and making reading a fun experience.

Who should read it:

Instead of saying who must read this book, I am going to list few points on who must not read this book:

People who are PC fans and they know most of her life by watching movies, YouTube, and TV interviews because while reading the book, I felt like whatever was in the book was something I already knew.

People who want Juicy Gossip: Everyone can agree that we want to know more about Priyanka Chopra’s alleged scandals, but we must also respect her privacy to keep her personal life to her. When I read the book, I felt like this book was a way for her to revisit her History on her own terms and focus only on the parts that made her who she is.

My top three quotes from the book:

a. I have always felt that life is a solitary journey, that we are each on a train, riding through our hours, our days, our years. We get on alone, we leave alone, and the decisions we make as we travel on the train are our responsibility alone. Along the way, different people – the family we are born to and the family we choose, the friends we meet, those we come to love and who come to love us-get on and off the cars of our train. We are travelers, always moving, always in flux, and so are our fellow passengers. Our time riding together is fleeting, but it’s everything – because the time together is what brings us love, joy, connection.

b. One of the most astounding things about my parents’ marriage is that it was equal in all regards-from the way they made their home as newlyweds, picking everything out together, to the way they had mutual respect for each other’s careers, to the way they worked together to do what they determined was best for our family, to the goals they shared in providing medical care and supplies to those who couldn’t afford them. Both of them were also ambitious and they respected that in each other, which taught me that it was fine to have large goals and to work hard to achieve them, and that marriage or even parenthood doesn’t mean you have to stop dreaming big for yourself.

c. The idea that confidence is not a permanent state was crystallizing in me, and I was beginning to sense that the harder I worked at being able to access it when I needed it, the better it would serve me.

My favorite sentences from the book:

“Be like water,” he said. “Find the best situation wherever you are and make it work.”

Own your choices. Or, as my mother must have told me hundreds of times growing up, “have courage of conviction.”

When I saw how people were looking at me as if I were a fantastical, brightly colored unicorn-I realized that I wanted to see myself that way, too. I wanted to feel interesting and unusual and amazing, to feel that I was deserving of people’s gaze.

Not by far. I’d known the whole time that the one thing I wore best was my confidence- as long as I wasn’t comparing myself with the other girls, which I sometimes struggled not to do. I could speak in front of people, I could strike up conversation with strangers, whenever I did, I did it with conviction even when I was bad at it.

Once I’d garnered the Miss India World crown, I’d had to learn fast and under pressure. My toolbox was as full as it was ever going to get, and that knowledge gave me a sense of self-assurance. I knew what was required of me, and I knew, theoretically at least, that I should be able to do well.

“You should be someone whose word is your bond. When you’re finished with the commitments you’ve made and fulfilled the contracts you’ve signed, if you still don’t like the way things are done, then don’t sign any more contracts.”

I loved taking lines of dialogue and transforming them into a multidimensional person with a past and a future and a unique take on the world. I developed a hunger for seeing how many personalities I could create, and how different they could be. Wondering what kind of person I’ll be breathing life into next is one of the many things that keep me excited about this job of mine.

Knowledge is a key to confidence.

“I’m not going to ask you to stay,” he told me. “Not because I don’t want you to, but because if you could cancel, you’d have done it already.” Then he took my hands. “I’ll never be that guy, Pri. You’ve worked so hard for so many years to be where you are, and you know what’s best for your career. And I will never stand in your way.”

#nick and priyanka #priyanka chopra #priyanka chopra movies #unfinished #books & libraries #bookworm #bookaddict #book quotes #bookstagram #best seller books #booklr #bookblr #book #bookish #kindle books #boookqueenn #booksbooksbooks

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clovis-enthusiast · 5 years ago

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Lotsa Clovis headcanons that you can pry from my cold dead hands

Keep in mind that these are just MY HEADCANONS! None of this is canon unless specifically stated! Feel free to agree or disagree. I juts rlly love my boy and his cabin and will gush about them for hours if given the chance.

Since there is a lot, I’ll put them under the cut so as not to clutter ur feed with my rambling! So uh click ‘keep reading’ to see me babble about my all time favorite character! Hope u enjoy if u read em and always feel free to send me a message about ur own headcanons! (I’m always thinking of more, so this post might be updated every once in awhile!)

He is very French. He was born in France and lived there for a short while before he and his mother (the reason I say mother instead of parent is because it was hinted at in canon that he has a mother. my go to name for her is Camille) moved to the US due to monster related problems. (He has a French last name. Something like Valois is my go to.)

French is his first language but because he moved to the US when he was quite young, he is very fluent in English. He often switches between the two languages when he’s EXTRA sleepy without noticing leading to a lot of confusion (and you can bet that he DEFINITELY swears in French because not many people at camp can understand him when he does. Those who do have a newfound respect and fear for him.)

He was initially a longtime member of the Hermes cabin even though pretty much everyone could guess who his godly parent was.

Was DEFINITELY a part of Luke’s army at one point due to the fact that he looked up to Luke as the older demigod had always treated him like a little brother, AND his godly brother Morpheus was also on Kronos’s side of the war. However, Clovis did not stay with them for long once things began to get bad and returned to Camp Half Blood with time. (Morpheus and Clovis now have a strained relationship.)

Best friends with Lou Ellen Blackstone of the Hecate cabin. They were both temporarily on Luke’s side of the war and were held with suspicion and distrust when they returned to camp, so they tended to stick by each other while the other campers warmed back up to them. Because of this, they are now very close and are always goofing around (much to the annoyance of the other head counselors aside from the Stolls, of course.)

Definitely had a thing for Nico di Angelo in the past. As the two boys are both the sons of underworld gods, Clovis had already felt a certain tug towards him. When he heard Nico’s story from the camp’s rumor mill (thank Lacy and Mitchell for that one) he became utterly infatuated. Over time, his curiosity turned more into a little crush which then became a BIG crush, but as neither Clovis nor Nico are really all that great with normal human interaction, the son of Hypnos’s flirting techniques sort of went unnoticed. That’s why Nico seems to be the only one being pulled into Clovis’s dreams at any given time despite Clovis being a ‘very strong dreamer.’ The truth is that Clovis has full control over who enters HIS dreamscapes. He tries desperately to impress Nico and help him out wherever he can, but when Nico eventually chooses Will to be his boyfriend, Clovis, though a bit sad that his first crush in a long time didn’t share the feelings, is VERY supportive. He loves to tease Nico about how hopelessly head-over-heels the broody teenager is over his sunshiney boyfriend. And if the two were ever to break up for whatever reason in the future? Well, Clovis is definitely still up for a shot.

Clovis and Nico are still VERY close. Clovis is one of the only people that Nico feels comfortable enough to be himself around and often confides in him whenever his negative thinking gets the best of him. Clovis also plays a big part in Nico regaining the memories of his past when he’s ready which he will forever be thankful for. The two obviously spend a lot of time together in dreams and greet one another in a warm fashion whenever they come across each other by chance at camp. This confuses literally everyone because literally no one has ever seen them interact before?? How are they friends??

Has HISTORY with Drew. No one is really sure what kind of history (it seems as if there was a little bit of memory erasure throughout the camp on the situation... hm...) but most people speculate that the two shared a romantic relation at one point in time. Turns out, they were NOT compatible, and the whole thing went up in flames. Drew still holds a huge grudge against Clovis who acts as though he could honestly care less. He still treats her politely though there have definitely been some not-so-subtle nasty looks cast across the campfire towards her direction before.

Also very close with Lacy and Mitchell from the Aphrodite cabin. Lacy feels terrible about Drew’s trash-talking and rumor-spreading and eventually works up the courage to say hi. They became fast friends, and Lacy definitely has a bit of a puppy-dog crush on him, but she is much too young for Clovis. He sees her as a little sister and allows her to put makeup on him, do his hair, and even tries on dresses and such just to make her smile. Mitchell, on the other hand, became friends with Clovis out of spite in all honesty and ended up liking the sleepy blond a lot more than he thought he would. He might have a teeeeeny tiiiiiny crush on him. Don’t tell Lacy.

Close with Pollux of the Dionysus cabin. Pollux sees a lot of Castor when he looks at Clovis which is a huge comfort to him. The two counselors have a lot of deep talks late at night, and Clovis always makes sure that Pollux is sleeping well without being haunted by nightmares. Dionysus would never admit it, but he is very thankful that someone cares that much about his only son.

Good friends with Rachel Elizabeth Dare surprisingly! He helps her out often, and the two like to sit and chat about mythology, artwork, and prophecies in the big house and at the campfire.

Has allies and friends in high places. Due to his powerful dreaming, he’s been to quite a few strange places and met quite a few strange people... or you could call them the gods, I guess. He knows a lot of the gods and goddesses from all kinds of mythologies (though obviously more of the Greek ones than anything) and they seem to like him well enough for some reason. (Probably because he’s one of the only demigods who doesn’t want to strangle them and doesn’t mind listening to them complain about petty godly things.) He often has little chats with them where he keeps them updated with the going ons of Camp Half Blood and they keep him updated about... godly drama. He kinda lives for it tbh. It’s part of the reason why he’s so informed about the gods.(Annabeth is maybe just the tiniest bit jealous.)

He’s a year round camper because it would be much too dangerous for him to go back to living with his mother. He stays in contact with her via dreams, letters, and Iris messages though!

MUCH more powerful than he lets on. He just doesn’t like conflict.

One of his most frightening abilities is the ability to summon terrible creatures from people’s nightmares and use them to fight. He doesn’t like to do this as it can be very traumatizing for the people he uses it against, AND it’s not always a guarantee that the nightmare creatures will obey him.

His other more battle-ready powers are the ability to put an entire battle field into a deep slumber and memory alteration/erasure. He can use his memory alteration/erasure on monsters of weaker defenses AND demigods (though he feels much more comfortable using it on monsters.) He uses these powers to alter how monsters/enemies perceive demigods. Because of this, there are quite a few friendly hellhounds and scythian dracanae wandering about the camp. All of his powers are VERY draining and take a lot of concentration in order to work as intended. He will often sleep for days after a battle because of this.

He is also capable of fighting whilst asleep. In fact, his senses are heightened, and he tends to perform better this way. He also heals much faster while he is asleep.

It is speculated that he will either grow wings from his head or his back, but it will not happen until he grows older. It’s a rare trait that few Hypnos kids (and Thanatos kids) develop, but due to Clovis’s power level, everyone is pretty much waiting for it to happen.

He can change his appearance at will in his dreams, but his aura is still the same, so he can still be identified pretty easily by people who know him personally. (As a side note, his eyes pretty much change color on their own to reflect the mood of the dreamscape he’s currently in. Gold, emerald, and violet are the most common colors. His true eye color is blue.)

Doesn’t really care about gender all that much. He has absolutely no problem with people referring to him using any pronouns (she/he/they) and is quite comfortable with himself in general. Many demigods who are questioning their gender comes to talk to him about it, and he’s always open to hearing them out and giving them advice.

VERY bisexual. Likes girls, guys, literally anyone who can keep him awake and interested for more than five seconds.

The unofficial official camp therapist.The role used to belong to Will Solace, but the truth is that the son of Apollo is much more comfortable dealing with physical ailments and problems he can fix medically than he is with dealing with feelings and mental ailments. Clovis is a very good listener despite the popular belief that he’s too busy nodding off to actually hold a conversation with properly and has a very calming aura that helps people feel safe enough to be vulnerable with him.

The go to babysitter of camp. Due to his Hypnos kid vibes, he is able to keep even the most rambunctious demigod and satyr children under control. His nap times are legendary.

VERY big on respecting people’s privacy and boundaries. He tries his best not to enter any dreams uninvited, and he never talks about what goes on in people’s dreams ever. He also NEVER looks into people’s memories without their permission. He makes sure his siblings follow these guidelines strictly.

He literally lets anyone come into the Hypnos cabin at any time to get a good rest. The cabin has an open door policy.

New campers are often allowed to stay with the Hypnos cabin if they’d rather not face the chaos of the Hermes cabin.

Contrary to popular belief, his cabin is actually NOT the messiest cabin. The Hermes cabin wins that one though they’re followed closely by the Ares and Hephaestus cabins.

He and his siblings are some of the closest in the camp. They meet up and hang out in each other’s dreamscapes and have family nights. Clovis is the oldest AND is a head counselor, so he is very protective and responsible when it comes to his siblings.

Gives AMAZING massages. Leo and the entirety of the Hephaestus and Ares cabins are regular customers. Fight me.

Actually a very good strategist when it comes to battles and such given that he’s awake enough to actually communicate his ideas. If you get them on your Capture the Team game, you’re already doing good. Annabeth and the Athena cabin love the competition, and they’re nearly unstoppable when they work together with him.

Clovis suffers from TERRIBLE narcolepsy, even for a son of Hypnos. It’s gotten him into a lot of bad and dangerous situations such as falling asleep mid battle, mid conversation, and even in the bath once when he was little. He has developed a fear of heights and water due to his condition.

Holds a lot of frustrations towards himself. Frustrated that he ever turned against the camp that offered him a home, frustrated that he couldn’t help Jason restore his memories, frustrated that couldn’t help more in the war against Gaea, just... frustrated. He tries to sleep off these negative moods because he doesn’t like to bring people down.

Absolutely not opposed to cuddling with people who are okay with it (he always asks first!) It’s a surefire way to get a good night’s rest since you’re so close to him, plus he’s very soft and warm!

Has a good singing voice, but just isn’t confident enough with it. He pushes through his insecurities to sing lullabies to those who really need them though. His lullabies are unmatched.

Adores cats with all of his heart due to their lazy and relaxed nature, but he knows that he could never be able to care for one well enough.

ALWAYS wears pajamas. Like all the time. Chiron has given up on enforcing the dress code. He also made sure to have custom made camp bracelets instead of necklaces to be sure that none of the Hypnos kids are choked/strangled by them if they happen to fall asleep in a bad place or position.

Lives in the past. Old movies, old music, old slang, you name it. I mean, he practically sleeps for the majority of his life, so it’s not all that surprising that he’s a bit behind the times. He thinks the modern age moves much too fast for him to keep up with.

The demigods of camp take turns making sure Clovis and his siblings are taking care of themselves. Walking them to the showers and dining pavilion, making sure they get a little sunlight each day, and the bare minimum of training.

He is the best boy.That is the only FACT that I do not accept criticism on. Thank you.

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pointy-ears-kink · 5 years ago

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Today is IDAHOBIT!

International Day Against HOmophobia, BIphobia & Transphobia, May 17

First a bit of history:

Founded by Luis-Georges Tin;

Originally called just IDAHO, first celebrared in 2005;

Transphobia and Biphobia were added in 2009 and 2015, respectively;

The date, May 17, was chosen as it's the day Homosexuality was removed from the International Classification of Diseases in 1990.

A few things I wanted to say:

It's particularly important that on the occasion of a widely recognized day are recognized multiple kinds of discrimination, as everyone's struggles are different. It is vital for us to recognize that, and better understand them; the community is extremely varied and we must listen to each other so as to better offer support and help. We also have to understand and recognize when multiple kinds of bigotry ovrlap, causing a very specific discrimination, different from the mere sum of its parts. I'd like to dedicate this to all of you:

To the lesbians, who are constantly fetishisized and invalidated because such a misogynistic society can't accept the concept of a sexuality which doesn't cater to men in any way;

To the gay men, fetishisized as well, who are told to "man up" and showered in toxic masculinity, because loving another man is apparently unacceptable and means you failed your "duty" to originate a picket-fence-2.5-kids family;

To the bisexuals and pansexuals, who are constantly told they need to "pick a side"- usually, "gay man in denial" and "just an attention seeking straight woman"; whose struggles are often invalidated by the community itself because they "can pass as straight", constantly erased by both gay and straight people, often put in either of those boxes, and being accused of transphobia by each other;

To transgender people, often invalidated and silenced, or treated as a fetish, forced to have their privacy violated by medical professionals just to recieve treatment, seen as a sick people to pity and as if they couldn't know for themselves, dismissed if they don't "pass", victims of so many hate crimes- especially trans women;

And specifically, trans non binary people, who live their identity in potentially infinite ways, but are dismissed if they don't meet the expectation of "perfect" androgyny;

To the Aces and Aros, invisible, considered ill and pushed to "get cured", victims of "corrective" r*pe, aces dismissed as prudes, aros as promiscuous, aroaces as inherently sad, all told they need to "find the one" since society is amatonormative;

To all the people who use lesser know labels, agender, bigender, demigender folks and all others, who never know whether coming out will have them explaining their identity yet again;

To queer poc, underrepresented in an underrepresented community, victims of racism from and stereotyped by people within the community, and majority of the victims of hate crimes;

And to all those whose identity I've failed to address, and struggles to highlight:

You're valid. Dont let anyone take that away from you, You know your identity and are allowed to live with it in peace. Respect others', too, and everyone's pronouns.

We can make it through despite all the hate. We can make it.

I love you.

17/5/2020 Luca, he/him and they/them

#my tag #relevant #lgbtq #lgbtpeople #idahobit2020 #i care about this #IDAHOBIT

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banashee · 5 years ago

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Part 3 of my @badthingshappenbingo

prompt: “Accidentally hurt by a friend”.

Just because you can doesn’t mean you should

It starts out like any other, uneventful evening in the tower where all of them are present. Dinner, movie night, falling asleep on the couch - nothing unusual at all.

That is, until Natasha starts fidgeting and muttering in her sleep. Clint blinks awake, carefully running a hand over her shoulder in a soothing motion.

But when she doesn’t stop, doesn’t calm and instead, a cold string of Russian flows from her lips, he tenses up and curses out loud in a hushed voice.

"Everything okay?“ Steve asks from where he’d been dozing off on Bucky’s shoulder, sounding concerned.

It causes everyone else to look up as well, just in time for Natasha to tense up, muttering once more in Russian - Bucky tenses as well, since he’s got a pretty good idea of what might be happening. He keeps his eyes locked on her and Clint in understanding, while the expressions of their teammates range from confusion to worry and slowly dawning understanding.

“I need you all to get out of the room. This might get ugly and too many people here won’t help.”

Clint sits up, very carefully, and gets his feet on the ground in preparation for what he knows will follow soon - any further questions are cut off, because Natasha shoots up from the couch, angry snarl on her lips and then, without a warning, she kicks Clint into the coffee table with enough force for it to break under him.

The whole room erupts in chaos - people screaming, wanting to help and unsure what to do. Meanwhile, Clint forces himself up from the floor, blocking the next vicious blows from Natasha as she attacks him in a cold rage. It’s like she doesn’t even recognize him.

As devastating this whole thing is, it’s over in a matter of just a few minutes - but the room lies in shambles around them, furniture in pieces, shards of glass and spilled drinks on the floor. Blood splattered across a wall and the floor from when she broke Clint’s nose earlier.

Now, Natasha sits on the ground and in the middle of the wreckage, clearly shaken and very, very silent.

Her green eyes are filled with pain and sadness, shining suspiciously wet. Clint is sitting in front of her, dried blood on his face and one eye swelling shut - he’s moving very carefully, probably because of some cracked ribs. He’d fought off any attempt in medical care, simply shoving balled up pieces of tissue paper up his nose to stop bleeding all over the place.

The injuries don’t seem to bother him very much right now, because he keeps talking in the same calm and low tone of voice he’d used the entire time in an attempt to bring Natasha back to herself. He has one hand stretched out in between them, a calm offering of comfort, but Natasha doesn’t take it - not yet, not trusting herself, even now that the red fog in her head has cleared up and she is back to her own self. Back, but shaken.

The others had, despite that Clint asked them to, not left.

Usually, they respect each others requests to be left alone, but this is different. No one wanted to leave, too worried about Natasha’s state of mind and too worried about Clint getting seriously hurt to the point where he wouldn’t be able to fight anymore - and he’d refused to fight back, not wanting to hurt his best friend when she wasn’t in control of herself and even more so, refusing to use the trigger words that would stop her.

As it is, they managed to restrain her with Steve and Thor holding onto her, firm but as non-threateningly as possible while Clint had gotten a chance to catch his breath. He managed talk her down and back to her own self after the nightmare that triggered something in her. Even after she’d calmed down and gotten back to herself, and her friends stopped holding onto her, she’s still holding her arms tightly crossed around herself.

The team is keeping their distance now, but still worried and hovering. They want to give her privacy, while still staying close, just in case any of them is needed in some way.

As a compromise, they pile in the kitchen, where Bucky had gone first to make tea.

Natasha and him have history that dates back many decades - with her being back in a old mindset, he’d been unsure if his presence would be helpful or make it even worse. So he keeps his distance and keeps busy with preparing a mug of herbal tea with honey, just the way he knows Nat likes.

Natasha keeps her breathing carefully even. Slowly, she uncurls herself, scooting a little bit closer to Clint and finally taking his hand. The grip is gentle and reassuring - it feels warm, slightly rough and calloused. This is a feeling she’s associated with home for a long time.

She has told Clint about the trigger words years ago - told them to Phil, too. Just in case something or someone compromised her.

Neither of them have ever used this knowledge, not wanting to manipulate her. They always managed to bring her back without it.

Part of Natasha is disappointed that they willingly let her hurt them instead of putting a stop to it with the most efficient way they know, but another, slightly selfish part of her is thankful that they love her enough to try their damn best to bring her back without using any of this delicate knowledge - that they love her enough as to not mess with her mind, even when it would be for the best of everyone else.

It assures her in her decision to trust them with it in the first place.

It’s been years since she’s had the last setback into her red room programming - before they even formed the Avengers years, and right now, she’s slowly catching up to the damage she’s done.

Wrecking their home, probably scaring the team and most of all, hurting her best friend. Natasha feels sick, and wonders if that was it with her new life.

“What if they hate you for this” a mean voice in her brain whispers, smug and gloating, rubbing it’s disgusting little hands.

She doesn’t realize she must have asked this out loud - or maybe not, and Clint just knows her too well to not catch on.

“Nothing changed. You’re safe and all of us still love you. Promise.”

Natasha doesn’t answer, but she crosses the distance between them and wraps herself around Clint, holding on for dear life. It must be causing him pain, what with his newly damaged ribs because he can’t suppress a slight flinch at the sudden pressure there, but still, he simply hugs back, holding her close and pressing a kiss into her messy red curls, not letting go of her.

“I’m sorry I hurt ��you.” she mutters into his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I’ve had worse. Not your fault, Tasha.”

She wants to disagree, but it won’t get them anywhere. They’ve had this kind of talk many times over the years, so she simply holds on for longer.

When she finally lets go of Clint, pale and red eyed, there is a travel mug placed on the floor near her, but no one else is in sight. Natasha didn’t even realize it got placed there. It’s something that would usually never happen to her, because she always notices things around her, but this particular set back left her shaken.

She still recognizes the gesture for what it is. The ghost of a smile crosses her lips, and she takes a careful sip.

It’s her favourite herbal tea and it tastes perfect - sweet with honey and instantly calming.

Breathing is a lot easier now.

The rest of the night, she spends curled up around Clint in his bed. Part of her wants to fight it, too afraid she might slip back again and kill him in his sleep, but the part that wants to accept the offered comfort is stronger this time - they know the drill by now. It always works out, and Natasha wants the company.

Sleep doesn’t come, but she manages to doze a little bit at least and the next day, she feels a little better and shuffles off to the shower, stealing ancient sweatpants with holes in the knees and a cheesy touristy T-shirt out of Clint’s closet.

He simply puts a clean, folded towel on top of the pile of clothes, then he makes his way to the kitchen.

When Natasha joins him there later, she is greeted by the rest of the team. While this kitchen is a lot smaller than the common area downstairs, they all fit around the table - she knows they try and keep her away from that area until the damage is repaired, not wanting to upset her - she’s torn between being annoyed, because she can handle it for god’s sake, and being happy that she won’t have to deal with it.

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.” a calm voice in the back of her head gently reminds her, and it is no coincidence that it sounds very much like Phil - she still misses him.

All of them do.

But the team is here and everything is the same as always - Clint stands at the stove, cooking while inhaling black coffee straight from the pot. His injuries look worse now that bruises have formed, and some time in the night he actually managed to set his broken nose in place - his face looks horrible right now, a reminder of what she’s done. But she also knows he doesn’t blame her, and most importantly, despite looking banged up, he seems to be otherwise okay.

A cooking Clint is one who is feeling good, she knows. He’s also occasionally humming along to the song that’s playing faintly in the background, in between sips of coffee and flipping eggs and pancakes.

Steve, Bucky and Thor set the table, chatting away and greeting her just as happy as always. Bruce chops fruit into a large bowl, looking up with a smile and Tony is propped up against the counter, drinking coffee out of a giant mug and keeping an eye on the waffle iron - the only cooking task they trust him to do without supervision.

He’s using nicknames just as always, “Red Sonja”, “Itsy Bitsy” and all the other names that keep earning him her elbow into the ribs on a daily basis - it’s a comfort.

A comfort, and prove for what Clint promised her earlier - nothing changed and they still love her.

*+~

Square: Accidentally hurt by a friend

#banashee writes #Bad things happen bingo #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #natasha romanov feels #platonic clintasha #team as family #tw blood and injury

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peekaboongi · 6 years ago

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Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, fluff, angst, fluff, angst, fluff, etc. (in that order)

Warnings: Mentions of blood, car accidents, character death, probably inaccurate medical references

Word Count: 4.4k+

Summary: Your meeting with famous actor Kim Taehyung was no coincidence, and you find that your destinies are intertwined too intricately to ever escape your fates.

↳ alternatively late night car rides and conversations with Taehyung.

A/N: this has been in my drafts for over a month now I think. I also have a yoongi fic coming out for his birthday so look forward to that. or not, idk. i was listening to Tae’s cover of Someone Like You on repeat when I wrote this. so I guess if you wanna listen to that when you read this it wouldn’t hurt.

The first time you met him, you were fresh out of college, debt in tow. You had just landed a job as a journalist at a small newspaper, and he was your first assignment—the next big thing. Everyone wanted one of two things, to be him or to be with him—preferably in bed.

Your first interview was a disaster. It took place in a small cafe out of the public eye—as out of the public eye as it could be, given you were a reporter. He was captivating, his skin was glowing, and his eyes were warm and inviting. You almost (keyword: almost) forgot what you were there for. That is, until he waved his hand in front of your face to get your attention. It was like he was the only person in the universe, and his mere presence made you feel like you were drowning and soaring at the same time. When he asks to see you again (not for work), you don’t hesitate to say yes, scribbling your personal phone number down on a napkin.

It’s not the kind of date you expect Korea’s golden boy to go on, but it’s perfect. In lieu of driving up to your apartment in a fancy sports car that could pay your college debt thrice over, he pulls up in a nondescript car. He sports a pair of jeans that hug his legs in a way that makes your mouth water, and a simple sweatshirt. Even though he’s wearing a mask and sunglasses, there’s not a doubt in your mind that it’s him. There’s just something about him that you can’t explain, and it gives you butterflies.

He takes you to a small restaurant that he says he went to before his career took off. It’s the place he would go to late at night when he was trying to memorize lines or needed a good home cooked meal. He tells you where he’s from and about his childhood. He talks about how he always wanted to be an actor, and when he does, his eyes light up like those of a child who has yet to experience all the hardships that the world has to offer.

You tell him about why you wanted to become a reporter, wanted to help reform the industry’s invasive practices. You told him about your dream of starting your own publishing company that respects the privacy of celebrities, and how even if you were one person, you wanted to make a difference that mattered.

Your night goes by in the blink of an eye, the two of you talking about the mundane things in your lives like the fact that you had a neighbor that would ask to borrow sugar every single day, or how the thing that annoyed him most, was when people chew with their mouths open (which thankfully, you didn’t). When he finally dropped you back off at your apartment, he asked to see you again and the rest, as they say, is history.

By the seventh date, you know he’s the one. There are late night movies while you nuzzle your head into his shoulder, and desserts disappearing when you aren’t looking. There are walks in the park late at night with your pinkies intertwined, and there are days where you wake up early just to see the sunset together.

It’s just nine months later when the snow is melting away to reveal the budding flowers that Taehyung is walking to your shared apartment with a box that feels like it’s burning a hole through his pocket. In one hand is a bouquet of tulips, (because roses are too cliché according to you) and his other is running nervously through his hair.

He is so distracted by his nerves that he fails to see the little girl that runs in to the street, and the car that swerves away from her. He only notices the car accelerating towards him when it’s too late. The next thing he knows, he’s lying on his back and looking up at the sky as tulip petals rain down around him. He vaguely makes out the screams of people around him and the flashes from an ambulance, but his mind is elsewhere. His hand shakily reaches in to his pocket and he wraps his fingers around the box. The last thing Taehyung sees is your smile and the last thing he hears is the way his name rolls off your tongue.

Ironically, you hear about it from the news first. His name is splashed across every single news and tabloid site.

Famous Actor Kim Taehyung Victim of an Accident

You don’t have time to read the article before you’re getting a call from the local hospital, making your knees weak. With a sinking feeling in your stomach, you accept the call as you sink down to the floor.

“Hello?”

“Is this Ms. Y/N?”

“This is she.”

“Kim Taehyung passed away shortly after arriving. You were listed as his emergency contact and we were wondering if you would be able to come down to collect his belongings.”

You’re not sure what she says after that. Your phone has fallen to the ground as you begin to process what she just told you. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of you and your vision is growing hazy. There are tears streaming down your cheeks, as you are wracked with grief. You can’t tell if the sobs coming from you are screams or if they’re just a whisper. You had fallen, and Taehyung wasn’t there to catch you.

You can’t tell how long you sit on the floor of your apartment crying. It could be minutes, hours, or days. When you do finally manage to pull yourself together, you grab your phone off the ground and, locking the door, make way for the hospital.

The press are surrounding the hospital and for a moment, you wonder if they really have no boundaries before you remember that you too, are a reporter who would do almost anything to get the next big scoop.

You walk up to the front desk and ask what it is you’re supposed to do. They give you papers to fill out and tell you that you can sit in the waiting room. When you can barely write his name, you realize that it might have been a good idea to bring someone with you.

Handing the finished papers to the nurse at the desk, he hands you Taehyung’s belongings, on top of which rests a small black box. “These were the only things in his possession,” he says softly.

It’s with trembling hands that you open the box, only to be met with a ring that brings tears to your eyes. It is simple in design, white gold with a small sapphire surrounded by smaller diamonds. It’s the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen, and that just makes you cry more.

You leave the hospital and go back to your hometown without returning to the home you shared with the man who was evidently on his way to propose to you. Your mom is the one who opens the door, immediately embracing you.

It’s not until a full year later that you are finally able to visit his grave with a handful of marigolds. They were a start contrast to the apprehension that grows with every step you take towards Taehyungs final resting place in a cemetery in Daegu, the place where he grew up.

You make the trip every year on the anniversary of his death, marigolds and all. When your parents pass away, you move to Daegu so that you’re closer to the man whose smile was brighter than the sun, and who always knew what to say to cheer you up. It was a pity he was no longer around to lift your spirits.

You never realize your dream of publishing your own magazine, but you do dedicate the rest of your life to changing the way the press covered celebrity news, not wanting anyone to go through what you did, finding out about the death of someone you loved through the news of all things. It was cruel and inhuman to broadcast those things, to publish those things where loved once were constantly reminded of it.

You pass away in your sleep at the age of 87 with a delicate sapphire ring glimmering on your left ring finger.

The next time you encounter Taehyung, you are the daughter of a politician and he is the newly assigned bodyguard that your father (who you suspected was corrupt) had hired. It’s not until he whispers your name and throws his arms around you that you begin to cry again, the memory of losing him just as painful as it was the life before.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Taehyung comfortingly strokes your hair. “I’m right here. You’re going to be stuck with me for a while,” he laughs, and oh, how you missed it.

“You died, Taehyung!” You pull away from him to look at the face of the man you have missed so dearly. “Do you have any idea how I felt when they gave me the ring you were planning on giving me yourself?” You take a moment to collect yourself before continuing. “It was beautiful and perfect,” you say. “Everything our life should have been.”

This time around, you have Taehyung by your side for a couple of years. He was there when you needed him, and even when you didn’t need him. You had started out slowly, sneaking behind your father’s back. He would never approve of your relationship. You never approved of his political views though, so who was he to say anything?

Taehyung would whisper names and positions in your ear when you forgot who you were talking too, and you would give him clandestine kisses when no one was looking. You didn’t pick up where you left off, but you slowly and surely made your way back to it.

For your birthdays, Taehyung would give you tulips (because roses were still too cliché), and the two of you would sneak out of the house and go for long car rides in Taehyung’s personal car, not the conspicuous car your father had, should you ever need to go anywhere.

The drive is spent talking about silly things like unreasonable fears the two of you had, or what you thought his best quality was, and vice versa. To an outsider, the things you talk about might seem insignificant, but to you and Taehyung, they’re special, making up for the time you lost.

One time, Taehyung asks you what your life was like after he died. He asks if the dream of having your own publishing company ever came true, and he comforts you when you tell him you just didn’t have the heart to continue. You tell him about how difficult it was for you to visit his grave for the first time, the brightly colored marigolds doing little to raise your spirits, and you recount how empty your life had been without him.

It’s when he brings up the ring that the trickle of tears turns to a stream. You tell him how much you loved it and how absolutely wonderful it was, and about how you wore it until the day you died. When Taehyung says nothing choosing instead to rub circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, you wonder if it’s hard for him to hear about your life and about the things he never got to experience. If it is, he never says anything, and you don’t have the heart to ask him about it.

It was a month after your father’s reelection that it happened. Your father had dragged you along to a press conference with him about the healthcare reform—something you didn’t agree with—when gunshots rang out in the crowd, prompting Taehyung to step in front of you.

Everything happened in a blur and the next thing you know, security has found the culprit and has him on the ground with his hands pinned behind his back, but it’s not before you notice Taehyung holding a hand to his stomach.

You step out from behind him, and take a good look at him. He smiles at you and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear before he falls to his knees, a grimace plastered on his face. You see your tears before you feel them, making wet spots on Taehyung’s suit jacket.

“No, no no,” you cry. This wasn’t happening again. It couldn’t happen again. The two of you had already suffered, this was supposed to be your happy ending. You grab his hand in yours, startled by how cold it could be so quickly. “Please,” your voice cracks. “Please don’t leave me again,” you raise his hand to your cheek, desperate for the warmth that it no longer possesses.

You watch him as his eyes glaze over, see all traces of color drain from his face, and you see the last words on his lips. I love you.

From that moment on, you distance yourself from your father, even going so far as to run against him in the next election and winning. You undo all of the evil he did, exposing corrupted officials and making the government better one step at a time.

Once again, it takes you a year to visit Taehyung’s grave, marigolds in hand. And perhaps, as a politician, having a routine was a bad idea, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it when you are shot while visiting his grave on the fourth anniversary of his death. How could you, when you die with the man you love? Can he see you right now? Is he watching you? You wonder if this is how he felt when he died. When he bled out in your arms.

It’s not until your third life when you sit beside his hospital bed that you notice a pattern. You hadn’t even had the chance to talk to him this time. You were just finishing your residency when you were tasked with unplugging a patient from life support. You had never seen the patient before, but as you approached the room, the feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach grew, and you understood when you reach the room, the sign on the door reading Kim Taehyung.

Of course, you thought to yourself. Wordlessly, you begin to remove the tubes from his arm and the oxygen mask from his face, dreading the resounding beep that would ring through the silent room.

This is the first time you make it to his funeral. You had sneaked a peak at his files, and learned who he was in that life. He was an aspiring singer, and you wondered why you’d never heard him sing before, and it seemed like you never would. At least in this life.

You walk up to the open casket, and your moth goes dry. His hair is a vibrant blue but his face is the same as you remember it from the first time you met him fresh out of college. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was simply sleeping and would pop up to surprise you any minute. His hands were clasped around a bouquet of tulips, and you had to choke back a sob. When the ceremony is finished, you place your own marigolds on his grave as someone speaks up from behind you.

“How did you know him?” The question comes from a man with brightly color pink hair, and if you didn’t already have someone in your heart, you might have thought he was cute.

“I met him what feels like a lifetime ago. Nothing ever really went the way it was supposed to,” you smile at the man ruefully. “I’m Y/N,” you introduce yourself.

“Jimin,” he holds his hand out to you.

The rest of your years are spent with Jimin by your side, the cheerful male almost making you forget the ache in your heart. The two of you live closer than either of you would have guessed, and while free time is a foreign concept to you as a surgeon, the time that you do have is spent eating ice cream and watching rom coms at one of your apartments. And, when the anniversary of his death comes around, he is there with you, a marigold in each of your hands for the man who filled Jimin’s life with joy, and your past lives with love.

When you stare at the familiar engraved letters, you make a promise. If you are unfortunate enough to have another life, you vow to avoid Taehyung. Perhaps he’ll finally be able to live a full life.

Though your next three lives are free of Taehyung’s boxy smile or contagious laugh, you still find yourself thinking about him frequently, and wonder if he too, is thinking about you. Does he find someone to love and grow old with? Someone who can give him what you never could? While the idea might fill someone with jealousy, you simply find yourself pining for something you could never have.

These three lives amount to nothing special. You grow up in a middle-class family, you attend college, and you become a secretary for a man named Kim Seokjin at a company whose CEO is none other than the person who kept you company in your previous life. You were lucky (if you could call it that) enough that Jimin was still the same pink haired boy with endless energy. He doesn’t remember who you are, and you’re okay with that. It was probably for the best.

Seokjin, while chaotic at times, is a kind boss. He was understanding when you first started out, and he continued to be a caring boss until you were moved to the PR department. Even then, he would make sure to ask you how you were doing when he saw you in the hallways.

While you had been offered promotions, you had no interest in climbing up the corporate ladder, choosing instead to live a simple life. You savored the menial aspects of your day to day life, never sure when something (or someone) would show up and change everything.

Your second life without Taehyung is hard, and short. You grow up with loving parents who die in a house fire when you were seven. You had no relatives and ran away from the orphanage. You live on the streets until a man name Namjoon takes you in to a school of sorts. Maybe it’s the fact that Taehyung makes you a better version of yourself, but you without him in your life, you find yourself straying from your morals, even if it was for a good cause.

At Namjoon’s “school,” you meet Jungkook and Hoseok. The pair had also been found in a situation similar to yours, and you bonded over that. It was hard to believe that even after the world had abandoned the three of you, none of you had turned bitter. The four of you steal from the greedy and rich, donating it to non-profit organizations around the world, keeping only enough to live comfortably. It is a lackluster life, but when you realize that you’re helping children avoid what happened to you, Hoseok, or Jungkook, you realize that it was, ironically, a life of giving.

Your last life before being reunited, you work at a small record label under a man named Yoongi. At first, he was terrifying. He would glare more than he spoke, and it would send shivers down your spine whenever it was directed at you. It’s not until you make a habit of working late that you begin to notice his softer side. He would walk over to you with cans of coffee, or sometimes take-out for the two of you to eat together.

You briefly wonder if settling down with the stoic music producer wouldn’t be a bad idea, but Yoongi never makes a move, and you were content to leave things the way they were. The man seemed to understand you in a way that you yourself never understood. You’d asked him what his story was before, but he had ended the conversation abruptly, and you never revisited the topic.

Despite keeping quiet about his own struggles, he was always there to listen to yours, and it seemed like he always knew just what to say. Even when you would drunkenly mention things from previous lives, he never seemed the least bit perturbed.

When Yoongi retires, he offers you one last piece of advice. He tells you that running from your problems will only hurt you in the end.

It’s your seventh and current life when you see Taehyung again. Or rather, when he sees you again and though he had never seen you as a child before, he knows in his heart that the girl he sees sitting on the swing is you.

When someone cover your eyes while you’re absentmindedly sitting on the playground swing, your first thought is that it’s your friend Taeyeon. So naturally, you act accordingly. You remove the hands blocking your eyes and turn around with your hands on your hips. “Taeyeon, how many times have I told you not to do that anymore,” is what you were planning on saying, but when you are met with a smiling boy who is all too familiar, your words get caught in your throat and your arms fall to your side.

The smiling boy standing in front of you was undoubtedly Kim Taehyung, the man you loved and killed time and time again. Oh, how you want to wrap your arms around him and hope that it will keep him from leaving you again. But you remember your vow to stay away from him, and it’s that promise you made decades ago that has you running away from him as he chases after you and calls out your name.

Taehyung doesn’t see you again after that. Not before he leaves to become a singer in Seoul with six other boys with dreams like his.

The next time you see him, is on the cover of the magazine you write for. The familiarity of the situation makes you yearn for simpler times when Taehyung was just an assignment and not the person you love.

“Y/N! I need you to interview an up and coming singer at the awards show tonight.”

“Sir, couldn’t somebody else do that? I have a deadline tomorrow,” you make an excuse. Unfortunately, your boss is a dick and threatens to fire you if you don’t go. And so, when the time of the awards rolls around, you reluctantly grab your belongings and head out.

When you talk to Taehyung’s manager about the interview that your boss had scheduled a week before, to say that it was a slap in the face when he said there was no such interview scheduled, would be an understatement.

“Please sir, my job depends on this,” you make an attempt at appealing to his manager’s emotions, but only receive a cold glare in response.

“Miss, if you won’t leave now, I’m going to have to call security on you.”

“I understand, I’m sorry.” Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise. You didn’t want to have to see Taehyung, and you boss was a major prick anyways. Maybe this was better for the both of you.

When you bump in to someone on your way out and hear the “sorry” that escapes their mouth, you realize that you might have been counting your blessings too soon. “I didn’t see you there,” his voice trails off when he sees just who he ran in to.

“Y/N?” He says it almost as if he cam’t believe that you’re really standing there in front of him. “Is that really you?” His hands find your face, and you nearly nuzzle in to the familiar warmth.

“Hey Taehyung,” you say softly.

“You look…good,” he says, pausing to find the right words and while he is usually very adept at saving awkward conversations, he’s not quite sure how to do that in the moment.

“I—I have to go,” you look down as you walk around the man in front of you, but it’s made clear that you weren’t quick enough when his fingers wrap around your wrist, effectively stopping you.

“Why?” He looks imploringly at you. “Why did you run away from me when we were kids, and why are you running away from me now?”

Looking at him forms a lump in your throat and you try to push it down. “I don’t really think I need to explain myself to a stranger,” you attempt to distance yourself from the man.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” His grip on your wrist tightens, almost painfully, and the frustration is evident on his face. “You’re lying.” He knew it, you knew it, if there was anyone else with the two of you, they’d know it too, the way you avoid looking Taehyung in the eye, your own shifting around nervously.

“I won’t do this again,” your resolve breaks as you yank your wrist from his grasp and start walking outside. “I can’t,” you say softly. “I can’t do this again,” you reiterate.

“Can’t do what?” Taehyung follows you outside where it’s beginning to rain.

“This! I can’t love you and watch you die because of me over and over again,” you choke out.

“Is that how you’ve felt? Like all of my deaths have been your fault?” His voice, though it’s a mere whisper, is heartbroken. “Nothing that has happened to me has been your fault. The first time I was careless. The second time I chose to do what I did. The third time, well, I was already gone.”

“I had to watch you die! I watched as the color drained from your face and the light faded from your eyes! Call me selfish, but I can’t do that again."

“Please,” he begs. “Please don’t do this to me. I can’t live without you.”

“But you can’t live with me either, Tae. You don’t know what it feels like, to watch the person you love more than anything die right before your eyes,” you smile at him sadly and, as a car loses control when you cross the street, Taehyung learns exactly what it feels like.

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jardin-de-l-imagination · 5 years ago

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#1/?

I'm kinda planning of writing a Percy Jackson fic? So excuse my rant here of what I have planned I just kinda wanna have it written out and given some feedback hopefully before I really start. Some stuff might be triggering for some people. Including drugs, alcohol, rape, abuse, and self hate so far. Percy isn't a go happy guy, and hasn't been for awhile in the books. Btw REALLY LONG OMG.

Percy is gonna be a bit younger because I for some reason wanna have it cross over with marvel. Sorry. And ship him with Peter. Also sorry but not really.

The first changes is gonna be with Sally and a little bit of how she raised Percy. She teaches him of mythology and languages because she also knows many and knows it'll do him good because they're in the same area of where Greek is commonly used. Italian, Crotian, and Romanian, her family went around and had good taste. I wanna have Sally be a Roman legacy but I'm not sure of who just yet.

The second chapter would be his early preteens and his love/addiction of blue food. Kinda innocent and his relation of blue foods and his love for his Ma. As he grows older and Gabe gets in the picture his addiction of blue foods changes to drugs and alcohol from Gabe threatening them. He wants them to depend on them and him. The rape starts from the beginning of Gabe's relationship/marriage with Sally to be honest. Maternity rape is real and I doubt she always meant yes but would say it so he wouldn't hurt her more. He definitely would threaten the other (Sally / Percy) of harm of the other (Percy / Sally) if they were to misbehave. He'll eventually get himself out of it and help Sally recover while they're still stuck with Gabe. He goes back to loving blue food and uses it as a replacement whenever he has a craving.

The third would be his experience with school. Dyslexia and ADHD shows up right when he starts and some teachers reach out to Sally on ways to "fix him". She doesn't wanna have him depend on medication, definitely happy with that when Gabe happens, so he suffers with explaining " yes I have ADHD and dyslexia, no I'm not making it up to not pay attention" to everyone in every school he ever goes to. Some schools he has good teachers that believe him and wanna help him find ways to learn with his different types of dyslexia because of course he'll have more than what's common in a demigod. Sometimes he wouldn't get expelled from school but would have to deal with a suspension and have to find a way to hide it from Sally and Gabe. He learns better with facial reading and lying throughout these years. He'll have good relations with history, language, tech, and music teachers. Also the lunch and security and front desk people. He got along better with people older then him than people in his class.

The next might just be various moments with Gabe and his friends with either Sally saving him, one of Gabe's okay friends helping him, him turning things for the worse before he learns "the system*1", or with Gabe winning. Includes him learning how to apply makeup to hide bruises, lying about marks and cuts, how to heal stuff quicker, getting rid of smells, sewing, packing clothes tightly, and emergency numbers and places. Thoughts of running away and making things better for his Ma. Self hate and doubt of his reasons for living any longer. Decides running away would be better but he can't bring himself because he loves, is loyal to, her. That's brings MONEY MAKING. I grew up with people making money selling anything in school so he will too and will market off of this for any emergency because Gabe always takes his and Sally's money. Selling simple things like pencils and gum, later cool erasers that teachers confescated that he stole in return. Eventually he had to stop and find new ways to make money, and what's one quick way in New York? Drugs. NO!!.

*1 the system is based on what I learned growing up. If I had a good morning then I'll have a terrible night, Terrible morning then a good night. But sometimes you had to look for signs when it might just be a bad day overall. Conversations, how the person is acting (agitated, short temper, not patient), moody with everything from; lights, sounds, smells, how things are organized, nothing is good enough, privacy. The slightest thing that was good meant nothing when that person had more control of how your day would go. Of course this is my experience personally and I'ma add this in this fic.

He goes about using his talents with music to make some money. He can't risk Gabe, his friends, or even sally recognizing him so he always hides himself and would freestyle on the violin or guitar that he is able to keep at school because he's part of band. It keeps his away from home till Sally is out of work. He got into music because it was always calming to him and helps him concentrate. Sally was able to get him a chance to learn some before Gabe stopped them. Sometimes if there's a piano he'll play that too. Once he's makes money he carefully and reluctantly uses some for better equipment such as speakers and a microphone. His friendship with Peter is helpful with making it easy to bring around or stash at his place once he drops out of band or doesn't even joins his new schools band.*2. They would sometimes go out and just be dumb boys and fool around, Peter for fun and Percy for future possible survival and fun. Who can I connect with that will give me a discount? Who is less attentive of their stock? Where does the best wallets come from? Who accepts homeless and when? Libraries?

*2 this goes with my headcannon of Percy having more power, specifically pertaining to Sirens. Overall his voice is pleasing to listen to. When he's young it's nothing exceptional and are expecting someone to try and make him famous but as he grows up and sings more and gets more comfortable his voice is more smooth and silky. The mood of the songs can also affect people listening and draws people's attention and usually leads to him having people crowd around him whenever he's performing. He sometimes works with Peter with him dancing. He doesn't typically do pop songs since he likes rock music more so he'll change songs to him mood and tempo more fitting to what he enjoys.

He meets Peter when he and Sally are recovering. To disguise their time using money for drugs they'll go around walking or making up for lost time. She treats Percy as a silent thank you to a trip to the aquarium in Queens. There he meets Peter who is recovering from his traumatic friendship with Skip. They make quick friends and Sally and May and Ben make plans because they haven't seen their kid be this happy in a long time.

He becomes insomniac pretty early on even before the horrors of being a demigod. Someone once broke in their apartment and Gabe took it out on them so now he's even more sensetive to any sounds he hears at night. Either from his Ma crying, Gabe and his friends, or nightmares keeping him up. He usually sleeps under his bed because of Gabe putting his stuff on his bed and trashing his room. He'll wake up and go under the blankets when he hears Sally's footsteps coming to his room to not worry her.

Going to school is a blessing and a curse because that means no Gabe but that also means no Sally sadly. He constantly has to make a choice be happy for now? Or prepare for when that happiness goes away later. Meaning, do I hang out with Peter or do I go and make money street performing. Do I go to a school far from home so that I don't have to see Gabe but not see Sally, but that means she won't have to worry.

Once he finds out he's a demigod imagine all the self hate he gets. Any possible talents he thought he had. Anything that made him him, his love of blue, the sea, his features ( sure Sally would say he looks like his father he hoped he still had something that was from her, something that was just him ). But nope it all connects to Poseidon. Everything he likes and was confident about came from him. He wasn't anything special. He was just made to be used for their wars and fights and prophecy since they can't be involved but they don't wanna die from at the same time.

He knows of mythology with the help of his small closest group of friends and family, not what's taught at camp. He treats Medusa kinder and begs her to understand why he needs to continue and relates to her pain and apologies for what his birth father did to her. She allows him to kill her for a way to get rid of his pain Gabe. At camp he puts on a different kind of mask because he has no idea who he is at the beginning. A demigod? What the fuck?? What does that mean for him then? He's lost so he dumbs himself down. He has street smarts so he needs to get a layout of the place and the people. What's the stereotypes of groups. Who's the outliers. Where can I be me and with who. With Clarisse he hides what experience he has with fighting to seem weaker, the talk of prophecy can't be good and he didn't want anything with it. And with the talk of prophecy from the girl with blonde princess curls, and he feels used throughout their journey for a bit because this is what she wanted isn't it? To go out in the world and use her brain for better things. He's worried that she'll be like this onwards that this friendship is temporary just for her gain. Thankfully she stays. Watching his mother "die" from the Minotaur hurts him terribly because of course it's gonna be his fault that she dies. When he falls from his fight against Ecihdina and Chimera it pushes him to embracing the water side of him more and look tried gettingcontrol of it. Although the trap set by Hephaestus is rigged it doesn't push for Aphrodite to ship Percy with Annabeth. She can see he has doubt of even friendship and she stays respectful of that. Not everyone can cope with grief with romance. He meets Nico and Bianca at the casino but isn't able to pull them out. He doesn't make the connection till the next time he meets them. His loyalty brings him to the underworld wanting his mother back and his growing loyalty to the camp with the date drawing near for the solstice. He knew Hades couldn't be at fault and explaining so to him and Persephone builds his future relationship with them. His fight against Ares is helped by Posedion but also his growing anger of him wanting to endanger his friends. Luke still betrays everyone and everyone knows. He returns to his mom and Peter and life goes on.

Okay this a part one for a planning rant I'm going to sleep now

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #peter parker #percy x peter #marvel #triggers #up coming fanfic #possibly #highly likely #anyone interested?#spider man

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firekissedpiper · 5 years ago

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— ✗ AIRSICK

— ✗ Time Period: EARLY FEBRUARY, 2020.

— ✗ TW: Funeral, pregnancy loss/miscarriage, depression.

The funeral had been just as bad as she thought it would have been honestly. She had gone in knowing it would be wrenching staring at that empty wooden casket, forced into thinking of all the horrible possibilities of what had really happened to Gabel. And of course, watching Gabel’s father talk about family strength and unity hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park either, considering she was almost certain he had something to do with Gabel’s death.

On top of that it marked the end of something. Maybe things had been horrible near the end. Maybe they’d been fighting. Maybe their fiery personalities had finally combusted. But she loved him. He was the first man she’d ever truly loved. For every bad thing he’d shown her he’d taught her how to open herself up, at least a little bit. And for every time she found herself yelling at him, she knew she’d really just been trying to push away the one thing that reminded her of the broken shell she’d been.

And of course there was that one rather sizable elephant in the room - the fact she was carrying his child inside of her. Ever since that morning she’d woken up to him gone, she’d lost contact. Sure, she still had that one old phone number, but she hadn’t been willing to call. Then she’d discovered she was pregnant. Somehow, someway, she was always finding a way to put off telling him. She was too scared. Scared he would reject their child, scared he’d just continue on his crusade for revenge and their child would be caught in the middle of it.

So many excuses. So many reasons not to open her mouth. Now all she wanted was a chance to take it back. Gabel had probably gone all alone, thinking the few people who were tasked with protecting him had left and abandoned him. He hadn’t known the truth, that even in the moments when she hated him she still cared about him, at least as a friend. She was starting to think this was a cosmic punishment for what she did - pushing people away. It was hard not to think she deserved the suffering she underwent so often.

She’d spent two days in the Maldives, holed up in this small little bed and breakfast. She was trying to keep a low profile and not be noticed. The last thing she needed was Gabel’s family coming after her and realizing she was pregnant. It was bad enough that his father and her mother had already united forces to spill every last secret to the news. The truth of Ella’s parentage, what she’d done to Tomas, what Tomas had done to her, her history of drug use and the pregnancy when she had when she was just a teenager. They’d stripped her bare, and guessing from where Gabel ended up, they would do a lot worse than that if they knew she was in town.

Piper hadn’t brought the girls. The last thing she needed was the girls seeing her in this state. She also knew that they were in more danger here than they were with Mateo, and that it was going to make her far less inconspicuous. It pained her every moment she wasn’t with them, but this was something she had to do alone. She had allotted herself those two days to mourn. That was it. She’d go home, put her big girl pants on and go back to raising her daughters.

It had been a quiet cab ride back to the airport. She had gotten in the back, clad in a pair of black ripped jeans and opted for a short sleeved shirt as opposed to her usual long sleeve. It didn’t exactly hide her bump but now that Mateo knew, she knew that there wasn’t much point any longer in hiding it. Soon everyone knew. She’d probably resort to the same quiet excuses about the child’s father if her pregnancy became a focus in the press like Ella’s had been. Nobody could know that she was carrying Gabel’s child.

“Did you get a chance to go to the beach during your visit?” The cab driver asked. She looked up, her paranoia flaring up as she internally questioned how he knew she was visiting. It took all of a few seconds to use her logic to realize she had a somewhat obvious accent.

“No, I was here on business,” she commented rather quietly. So many people had probably flocked in for the funeral. She imagined the cab and limo companies had been packed with customers. All the royals pouring in from all over the world to come ‘pay their respects’.

“Perhaps next time,” the man said as he pulled up to the airport terminal. He seemed nice enough, but she wasn’t about to trust anyone from here that quickly.

“Perhaps.” She had no intention of returning here. Somehow, even if she had not experienced the pain and torment of Gabel first hand - this place almost reeked of bad omens. Maybe she was just paranoid. Or bias. Probably both.

Handing up the money and quickly stepping out, Piper headed for the already open trunk. She took her dufflebag and slung it over her shoulder. The brunette headed into the airport. It wasn’t as busy as it’d been when she’d first arrived. She supposed not as many people were as quick to leave as she was. They were likely visiting the beaches and enjoying the warmth of the sun. She didn’t have that luxury, at least not here. Two days had already been pushing her luck with not getting caught.

It didn’t take long to find herself in the right spot. Baggage check, a flash of her passport. Soon enough she was in the small seating area, waiting to get on the plane. Even the short time felt like too much. Ever since she’d arrived she felt like it was only a matter of time before someone was going to be bursting down her door to drag her off somewhere horrible.

Soon enough, it was time to load onto the plane. She poured into line and headed down the hallway that led to where they were boarding. One more check of her ticket told her she was somewhere in the back in the commercial seating area. She was on the end of the seat alongside two other passengers. They seemed to be friends from what she could tell in her short few moments sitting down there. They weren’t paying much attention to her, thankfully.

Piper got as comfortable as possible and tried to settle in. The last few days had been so exhausting. Somehow, she managed to find herself drifting off. She fought it for a while, trying to force her heavy eyes open. It wasn’t going very well for her. Eventually, the sleepless nights caught up with her and she couldn’t fight it any longer. Sleep took her.

She didn’t know how long that sleep had lasted. It could have been twenty minutes or two hours for all she knew. She was so tired that for once she didn’t spend her entire nap stuck in a seemingly endless night terror. For once, she was actually enjoying the rest she was having. A rather sharp pain took her from waking up. Like someone had stabbed her with a dull blade.

Piper’s eyes flew open and she sat up rather straight. It seemed to make her stomach ache more. A little groan left her and her hand went straight for her stomach. It would appear that the gas pain of her first trimester wasn’t ending any time soon. She had hoped that maybe she would luck out and have a more simple last two trimesters. Given she didn’t want to show the weakness to the two passengers sitting beside her, she stood up and headed for the washrooms, a place where she could whimper freely and try to soothe herself in privacy.

She had to wait a moment, lingering by the flight attendant who looked a lot like she was ready to kill her for getting out of her seat. She was in pain the whole time. Those cramps fading in from intense to soft and barely noticeable. Every time she thought they were gone, they came back twice as hard, rolling waves of agony crashing into her. She was growing dizzy.

It took a great deal of effort not to stand and tap her foot. Time just seemed to be dragging by. Every moment felt like an hour. And every hour might as well have been a week. She was getting irritated. Well, more irritated. It seemed these days she was living in a state of constant irritation and constant depression. The wait just seemed to be getting longer somehow.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Piper asked, breath labored and voice raspy. She was probably the bane of the flight attendant’s existence as it was. But she couldn’t be bothered about such a thing at that moment.

“Yes, of course,” the flight attendant’s overly chipper voice might have sounded inviting, if not for the fact that she could see what appeared to be disdain in her eyes. Or the fact that she knew even if it was part of her job to smile, that she would much rather the passenger wasn’t sitting in what was traditionally her seat. “Surely your seat must be a little more comfortable though?” There it was.

“I just need to get to the washroom,” Piper breathed out as she sat down on the little bench. It was inmalliable, not the slightest bit of give or forgiveness. It didn’t make things better exactly in terms of comfort, but it wasn’t as exhausting as standing was. Piper rubbed her stomach lightly, hoping maybe she could come the little being inside of her. Maybe if she could manage that, said little being wouldn’t have her stomach rolling with pain and nausea.

“Do you need to see a medic?” Some of the annoyance seemed to flicker off the flight attendants face, replaced by a mix of guilt and concern. “I can call her down,” the flight attendant offered. Piper supposed even if she had chosen an economy class seat the flight was still lavish enough to have an on board medical attendant.

“I’m fine, just a stomach ache,” she snapped. The words were just reflex, a common behavior she’d done for ages to avoid seeming weak. She knew that attitude wouldn’t help her now. Especially when she caught a glimpse of the look on the attendant’s face. “I’m sorry,” she said, struggling with the words. They weren’t her favorite choice of diction. She wasn’t usually one to apologize unless she’d really done something wrong.

Piper clutched at her stomach when a new wave hit her. She was ready to start cursing and beating on the door of the washroom, even if she was starting to believe this was definitely a bit more than a bit of nausea and a few gas cramps. She muttered Greek exploitives under her breath, mentally cursing whoever was in the washroom. She imagined someone with air sickness of some kind. She wished they’d just leave and go vomit in the provided bag like everyone else.

There was the slightest break in the sharp, stabbing pains in her lower abdomen. Her eyes closed, her hand released her stomach briefly. She felt like she could breathe. A rush of warmth between her legs followed this relief. She just about snapped. Her eyes flew wide open and she looked down, seeing the blood spreading along the material of her jeans around the inner thighs.

Her breath started to climb higher. Where relief had been adrenaline and anxiety began to thrive. The panic pumping through her body had her limbs shaking. Mentally, she begged every god she knew of not to do this, not now. She couldn’t handle this now. The cramping started once again, and she knew that the gods she prayed to had other plans.

“Miss, are you okay?” The flight attendant asked. Piper couldn’t bear to answer. She knew when she did she would snap. She knew when she finally acknowledged what was happening she would lose her strength. Another moment passed by, empty silence hanging between Piper and the strange woman.

“I think you should call the medic,” Piper finally said, voice breaking, the tears she’d been holding back finally set free to slide down her face.

“This is quite a common occurrence,” the doctor told her, setting the clipboard chart into the little slot at the end of her bed. “Unfortunately miscarriage affects about 1 in 5 of a hundred women.” A textbook answer of course. It was probably scripted. All those new rules on how to inform patients of a loss were in effect. Piper stayed silent as she watched the doctor’s reserved sympathy routine. Her eyes felt raw from the tears she’d cried in the last day or so.

“Now, the injection we gave you has helped to expel the remainder of the…” the doctor trailed off, clearing her throat, “fetus.” Piper couldn’t be bothered to get angry at the cold distance. She knew it was their job. And what had getting angry over everything brought her so far? “So a D&C won’t be necessary. Though we’ll monitor to ensure your uterus still looks good.” All very clinical. “We’ll send you home with a week of antibiotics and a reference card for a pregnancy loss counselor.” She knew the card would end up lost at the bottom of her purse somewhere.

As soon as her mother caught word of the little incident she knew she’d never be allowed to have the luxury of a therapy practice, let alone a public health one. She didn’t bother speaking anyway. She was in shock she supposed. Was this shock? She felt numb, like her body was tingling almost. A part of her wanted to move, to speak. But she couldn’t quite summon the energy to do so into being.

“Any questions, Princess Mykonos?” The doctor asked, folding her arms and eyeing Piper. She’d been forced to give up the truth of her identity somewhere in between the panic on the plane.

Piper didn’t respond. She just looked at the floor, blinking every now and then.

“I’ll leave you alone for a while. When you’re ready to go, just ring that bell and we’ll start your discharge,” the doctor said, nodding briefly before dismissing themselves.

Piper found herself alone in a silent white room. The fluorescent lights made it near impossible to ignore the starch features of the room. There was no real sign of life. She wasn’t sure she even counted as a sign of life at this point. The brunette sat, feet hanging over the edge of the bed, just staring at the same small stain on the floor.

#royalpainsrp #rpg #rp #solos #mindthetriggerwarnings

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jmariellewrites · 5 years ago

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Barbara Jane Edwards (Morrison)

Family Bonds and Connections

Before I even knew what the word truly meant I knew that I was adopted. My mother had always told me that another woman had given birth to me. I had an older brother and knew he was also adopted and that he had different birth parents. These memories go back to my earliest childhood. It's a relatively complex concept for a three or four year old. I didn't really understand the nuances of birth parents or adoption at that time. Later I just knew that I was grateful I had been told at that age so it never came as a shock to me. Beyond that, I simply was aware that I had a family, a warm bed at night, clothes, toys to play with and food on the table, even if some nights it was only pancakes and eggs or macaroni and cheese.

My first years were spent on a small farm in Port Angeles, Washington where I was born. My mother and father had both been born in Burlington and Edison in western Washington state respectively; however, my father had been transferred to Port Angeles for his job so my adoptive parents were already living there before my birth. It took a few hours to reach Burlington by car and even ferry, but we made the trip frequently on weekends to visit other family, most of whom lived in Burlington. We made the trip even more often when my father was transferred briefly to Olympia and especially when we moved to Bellingham, which was a relatively short drive away. Often we would pass by or travel to Mount Vernon, which is just to the south of Burlington.

Skagit Valley is a large, fertile agricultural district. The two largest towns are Mount Vernon and Burlington. Back then they were both sleepy little communities. At that time there were massive strawberry fields, pea patches, apple orchards and other fruit, vegetable and flower growers scattered throughout this lovely valley that most people had never even heard of. In the Spring through the Autumn there were endless farm stands offering fresh picked produce, berries and even dairy products.

The views in this valley are always glorious no matter where you look. The Skagit river flows through the entire valley, and there are views of majestic Mt. Baker far off to the east. Skagit Valley is now famous for the endless tulip fields and annual festivals held there each year, and has become a thriving bedroom community for Everett and even Seattle.

As my family and I would travel on US Highway 99 and then later I-5 after it was completed, we would pass by a large farm that was situated just off the highway. I don't know why this farm, out of all of the hundreds of farms in the area, stood out to me but it did. The entire valley was nothing but farms that were scattered along the highways. There was no logical reason this one should have me take notice, however, this is the farm that spoke to me. It was not noble or colorful. There was nothing spectacular about it that should have made it exceptional compared to the surrounding farms, yet to me it was a grand and magnificent place.

The expansive farmland just had an unremarkable home and an even more unremarkable barn and some other outbuildings that looked like so many others in the area. Yet to me it was special. I didn't know why it was special, it just was. I could sense something. As we drove by I would just stare at it to the point that my mother would ask why I was so fascinated with it. I didn't have an answer. My enchantment was always with horse ranches, not produce farms. There were no horses in sight here, so that added even more to the mystery of why I would just focus on this stretch of land. Occasionally as we approached this farm she would say something along the lines of, “We are almost to your farm, Nanie (her nickname for me when I was very young). Are you looking?” I was. I always looked. I always stared.

We moved to Alaska when I was still in grade school, but we would fly into Seattle every summer while I was growing up. We would drive up along I-5 to Burlington to visit relatives. As soon as we approached Skagit Valley I started looking off to the right. Yes. It was still there. My farm, as beautiful as special as always was still there. It seemed as if there were endless green fields of various crops surrounding it. If I had been old enough to drive, I would have just stopped the car and looked at it, but I never had that opportunity.

As I became an adult, I moved to Maui. I would occasionally return to Skagit Valley to see family. My travels would take me north on I-5 again and right past my farm. It was the first thing I looked for when I came down the hill to the valley floor as I drove north of Seattle, and it was the last thing I wanted to see when I traveled back to the airport on my way south before the road started to wind up the gently sloping hills leaving the valley. I was too shy to actually approach the farm house even though I wanted to tell the owners that they were so fortunate to have such a special piece of land, a lovely home to live in and to be surrounded by such a peaceful setting.

I traveled this road less frequently as the years passed and life events interfered, yet every time I journeyed that way, I always checked out my farm. Additionally, during all of these years I had always wondered about my birth family. I knew there was at least a mother, however, I wondered if I had siblings and even an entire other family out there. I wondered if my mother was still alive, what she was like, and especially wondered if she ever thought about me. I always wondered about my heritage and who else was out there. Were other family members still alive? Was there a medical history I should know about? Where were they and what were they doing? Was there anybody at all still alive that was related to me? Was I the only one who was looking?

I had a great adoptive family and was so fortunate to have a wonderful mother and father who had always worked hard to provide for us. Yet, for me, there was something missing. I never felt truly complete. There was a curiosity about who I really was. I didn't even know what nationality I was. Was I French, German, English? Some or all of the above? None of those things? Perhaps I was even part Asian? My mother had always thought so because of my fascination with Japan and its culture from the time I was very young. I had no way of knowing. I would ask my mother occasionally about my birth mother. She would say that she didn't know because the birth records had been sealed. The two mothers had never met and nothing about my birth mother had been disclosed to her. The questions I asked bothered her as if she was insecure about me wanting to know. I had room in my heart for two mothers, yet it was difficult for my adoptive mother to understand that. I tried not to ask often because it would even rattle her a little if I asked questions out of the blue. All I knew is that I was on my own on this quest, I would need an attorney to even try to uncover my adoption records, and it would be expensive, and may not even yield any results.

Then, in 2012, Washington State opened up adoption records for anyone born before 1975. My parents had both just passed so I didn't have to hide my actions from my mother. I immediately sent for my actual birth certificate looking for some answers. I waited for two weeks for the document, and opened the official looking envelope from the Washington State Department of Health Statistics with a trembling hand. I was looking at a nearly blank piece of paper when I unfolded it. All that was on the birth certificate was my mother's name, Barbara Jane Edwards, her approximate age of 17 and that perhaps she was from Oregon. Nothing else. The rest of the certificate was a complete blank. No father, no address, actual birth date, nothing else at all. However, now at least I had a name to start with.

I started looking but there was precious little to go on. I didn't even know where to begin looking. I had been told that my mother probably didn't ever actually live in Port Angeles, so I didn't have a starting point. I found no clear direction as a reference, no leads or anything whatsoever that guided me to her. She could have come from any state in the United States, or perhaps even Canada. Given that proving identity back in those years was so very different, I began to wonder if she had even given her real name or if she had checked into the hospital under an alias. Her name seemed to be completely elusive. I knew that if she had married, she had most likely taken another name, so that complicated my search even more.

Completely apart from this I had my DNA tested through Ancestry about the same time. I was so curious about my heritage that I wanted to know the answers to my questions about ethnicity. As part of that, Ancestry then shows you close DNA matches. It was an unexpected bonus when I realized I might be able to use my test results to help find blood relatives. Nothing closer than a possible 3rd or 4th cousin appeared in my matches for years. If a lead looked promising, I would send a cryptic message to someone asking if they had ever heard of Barbara, but no one had until in December of 2017 when a first cousin by the name of Scott Edwards appeared. Edwards! The same last name as my mother. It was the very first time that had happened, and he lived in Portland, Oregon, just south of the Washington border.

I sent a brief message to Scott, never mentioning that Barbara was my birth mother, just asking if he had ever heard of her. I told him to not bother responding if I was invading his privacy or if I was otherwise being intrusive. This was a couple days before Christmas of that year. I heard nothing back for a few days. Then shortly before New Year's day I received a message from Scott. Barbara was his aunt. Most important to me was that in the message he gave his phone number and said, “We need to talk, cousin!” He told me to call him as soon as I was ready to do so.

Scott and I spoke for over two hours when we first connected a couple days later. I was shaking and my nerves were rattling. I was experiencing such a wide range of emotions I didn't even know what to think. Scott filled me in on many, long lost details and told me I also had an Aunt Evelyn, an Uncle Clarence (Eddy), and two other first cousins by the names of Steve and Stephanie, who were his siblings. Then I found out I had two half brothers and a half sister, Keith, Darrin and Jill. The half brothers were farmers in Skagit Valley just south of Mount Vernon, and my half sister worked as an electrical engineer and lived east of Seattle.

Scott offered to call my half brothers and half sister and make all of the introductions. He would tell everyone about me as a way to break the ice for me, and said he would do that within the next two days. And so he did. Within two or three days, news of me had spread like wildfire through the family. I learned that the family name of my siblings was Morrison. Things started to click a little, but I didn't quite make the connection just yet. I had over fifty friend requests on Facebook from cousins, half brothers, my half sister, nieces, nephews, aunts and uncles and even second cousins. I was totally overwhelmed and didn't even know who belonged to who as I attempted to piece together names and family connections. It seemed as if half of Skagit Valley was related to me, as well as several people scatted across the country as far reaching as Texas and even the Eastern seaboard.

I learned that my Aunt Evelyn, my mother's older sister, had kept the secret of me her entire life. She had never told a soul. She was the only one who knew about me. She was delighted to hear that we as a family had finally connected after 64 years. I asked her once if she had any idea about who my father was, and she just chuckled. Her reply was, “Oh, Honey, your Momma was in the back seat of a car on a lot of Friday nights after school dances and such. It could be anyone from the captain of the football team to some wheat farmer's son! Your Momma was always out having a good time.” I had to laugh along with her. That also explained why there was no father listed on my birth certificate.

I spoke with my half brothers first before I spoke with my half sister. Both Keith and Darrin told me about the family farm and that they were 5th generation farmers and had Morrison Farms, a large operation that grew potatoes, grass and spinach seed, barley and other crops over a vast expanse of land. Keith described in general terms where they were located and asked if I remembered the area. As he spoke I nearly dropped the phone. Morrison Farms was precisely where my farm was located. Could it be? How was this possible? He was talking about my farm. He was calling from the farm I had been fascinated with from the time I was a young child.

While I was talking with them, I would start to describe the house and barns to them as we spoke. I described just about every detail to about the last leaf on the tree outside the main farm house, which is now where Darrin lives with his lovely wife Marily. I had chicken skin as I recalled the farm from my childhood and even adult days. Darrin and Keith were both silent when I described the farm. Keith was utterly fascinated. It was Darrin who said, “How did you know? When was the last time you were up this way?” I said that it had been a few years but that I knew the farm well. I tried to explain that it had always held a fascination for me for some unknown reason that was now perfectly clear. My mother had always been there as I gazed upon the farm, as were my half brothers and half sister. Back then I didn't know what I knew. I just knew that I sensed something. I sensed family. I could feel the connection deep in my bones. I didn't know how to process that information as a child. As an adult, I assumed the connection I felt was simply a fond childhood memory of a place special to me.

Over the next year few months I would grow closer and closer with my family, as would my adult son. My half brothers became true uncles to him. Their wives became his aunts. My half sister and her husband connected with us too. It was amazing. We all actually ended up meeting in the fall of 2018. Everyone traveled to Nevada to spend time with us and meet us, bringing along the best potatoes I have ever eaten, fresh picked out of the fertile farm land of Skagit Valley by their hands. My half sister actually wanted to spend her 50th birthday with me as part of her celebration. We had all developed a closeness and a bond that was remarkable. I had been welcomed by absolutely everyone with open arms and I was treated as a sister as well as a dear friend. I was part of a new family. It was as if we had known each other our entire lives. Marily and Wendy, Keith’s wife, were more like sisters than sisters-in-law. Paul, Jill’s husband, became a brother. It was all just so remarkable.

I don't know what there is about a blood bond, but it feels different. It is something tangible, something you can feel down to your bones. Blood is definitely thicker than water and it means something. During this period of discovery I was fully aware that these meetings and introductions could have gone either way. The doors could have been slammed in my face. But that did not happen. The opposite was true. I was accepted and welcomed by literally everyone as if we had known each other all of our lives. Even the man who would have been my step-father welcomed me and said that he wished he had known about me all along so we could have met sooner.

My birth mother -- I was too late to meet my mother. It was destined that we were never to meet. She had suffered a stroke some years previously and then had developed dementia. I had dealt with dementia first hand with my adopted mother so I knew the endless challenges surrounding that. I did not want to confuse her or do anything that might agitate her, even though it was suggested I could go visit with one of the family and just be introduced as a friend they were bringing along. I felt that was too risky as I knew I would not be able to keep my emotions from showing. Besides, all of us had remarked that I looked like her more than anyone else in the family. What if by some miracle she recognized who I was? How would we explain that? In the long run we decided against a meeting. We didn't want to shock or upset her when she was in a state of mind that might not fully comprehend what was happening.

At least now I had countless photos the family had brought to me or shared through email, and had heard endless stories of her and her wonderful life, generous spirit and gracious manner. I now knew who I was and where I came from and knew the story of my birth family. It would have to be enough. It was enough, yet there will always be a sense of wondering what it would have been like to actually have met her when we were both younger. Everyone in the family remarked that it would have been wonderful if we had found each other sooner. It just was never meant to be.

Passages happen. Events in life don’t always play out the way you would wish them to. My birth mother Barbara Jane Edwards passed peacefully on September 21, 2019, after a rapid decline in her already failing health. She was surrounded by family who were playing soft music for her. The end had finally come. She had been so frail for so long no one was sure how she had held on for as long as she did. She finally let go and passed away without knowing I was asking about her and talking to her family every day, sometimes twice a day during her last week and hours on this earth. No, she never knew I had finally found her or that I had connected with her lovely family.

My wish is that somehow she did sense on some level that I loved her and never held anything against her for giving me up for adoption. She was only doing what a young woman of that day and age was expected to do. I hope she knows that I admire and respect her and above all, that I thank her for giving me life -- a good life. I know it’s a long shot, yet I hope she sensed me even as I sensed her when I drove by that farm many times and felt her presence. Perhaps she looked out a kitchen window or glanced up from a flower bed just as the car passed by that I was riding in, and perhaps she smiled at me, wondering why it was that particular car that grabbed her attention out of all of the other cars on the road. It is my belief that she did.

#Adoption #Finding Family #Birth Connections #Family Connections #Lost Family

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stonefvced · 6 years ago

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ANBU Reformations

This shit is long. Read at your own discretion.

ANBU duties and purpose

The ANBU is, first and foremost, an intelligence branch. Secret service, if you will.

Intelligence gathering is it's primary mission. Not only do they gather information but they pass on critical information and act as messengers when the message is too sensitive to trust a summon or any other body with.

Further, ANBU focuses on who is a threat to this peace, who could become a threat, and who could become an ally. It keeps an eye on high-ranking people, previous convicts, radical groups, and so forth. It also gathers information on how the smaller countries and villages function, what they may need, could they be helped, and whether they wish for help.

ANBU can be deployed as personal security detail for important figureheads such as the Hokage and is at both the Daimyo's and Hokage's request for themselves or anyone they deems necessary to assist. Due to the peace among the five great villages, it is not unheard of that ANBU have been requested for other Kage’s and other important personal from friendly villages.

Members of ANBU perform extraction missions, rescue missions, infiltration, and investigations that are far above the Police Force pay-grade. There is a time and place for interrogation; there will always be a need for elimination, but the priority is always to bring a target to fair justice if possible.

There is no gender restrictions to become a member of ANBU or any of it's sub-sects. People are no longer "grown" into ANBU or any sub-sects. Children are not hand-picked and bred as tools.

Primary Criteria Includes

i. No person may become ANBU without prior rank of Chunin. ii. A Chunin or Jounin must have at least one year experience within the respective rank. iii. A, applicant must have completed five successful missions with at least three being B-rank missions; if Jounin, 1 A-rank mission. iv. An applicant must pass an intensive background interrogation ( performed by an ANBU member ). v. An applicant must pass a psychological examination ( performed by a specialized medical nin ) vi. An applicant must have inherited the will of fire: Love is the foundation of peace. The village is a family and every Konoha shinobi loves, believes, cherishes, and fights to protect the village, their fellow shinobi, and the common people, as previous generations had done before them.

A person can bypass these criteria under the following circumstances

i. The person has the equivalent experience listed above but has not moved official rank ii. The person has explicit support from the Kage and council iii. The person is not below the age of 14.

Any person under these circumstances must still have performed at minimum three successful missions ( one must be B-rank), pass an intensive background check, psychological examination, and have inherited the will of fire.

Upon Meeting Criteria

Those who meet the primary criteria will begin the examination process. The first examination process is split up into three different exams.

i. Written exam to determine intelligence ii. Physical exam to determine endurance ( both mental and physical ) iii. Physical exam to determine level of skill

A passing mark must be above 80% for written exams. Endurance exam is assessed by a professional team including medical nin. Physical exam is assessed by a team of ranking members.

If a person fails these exams they have 48 hours to try again. In the case of another failure, they must wait one year to reapply.

First Round of Training

Those who have completed the initial examination are taken to a remote location where they will undergo intensive training for two weeks with each weak having one day to rest and recuperate. While this is primarily a physical training program, they are designed to push the threshold of a person in all aspects -- physical, mental, and emotional.

Trainees are not only tested on grounds of physical skill but also mental wit and ability to make difficult decisions under pressure. After two weeks have been completed, trainees are returned home. People will be notified whether they have passed or failed within the coming week.

Those who have failed will not be permitted to continue forward within ANBU but may be contacted with another more fitting job offer. Those who still with to be a part of ANBU will be handed a full analysis of their performance and reason for their denial. They will be allowed to retry in one year but must start all over from the beginning.

Second Round of Training

People who have completed the first two weeks of training are then moved forward to another remote location where they spend an entire month honing both physical and mental skills. Within the month, mock up assignments are given to trainees to further assess their abilities within potential ANBU scenarios. These include anything from recon, to extraction, to interrogation, and more.

Although not all ANBU members will be part of the same sub-sect or have the same specialty and focus, all ANBU members must be able to perform each task as if it was demanded of them to perform any and all tasks an ANBU may be assigned to at any given time.

This training is monitored by ranking ANBU & Tobirama himself. Every now and then, he shows up as a proposed enemy or drill instructor during the training. At the end of the month participants are given a pass or a fail.

The same as the second round, those who have failed will not be permitted to continue forward within ANBU but may be contacted with another more fitting job offer. Those who still with to be a part of ANBU will be handed a full analysis of their performance and reason for their denial. They will be allowed to retry in one year but must start all over from the beginning.

Those who have passed continue on.

One on One Skill Training

Once a trainee has completed the three modules of training they are required to take a week of leisure before returning for their last training module before official acceptance into ANBU.

Here is where they choose which sub-sect and key roles they would like to work in. Each sub-sect and key role has its own form of hierarchy. Some higher ranking roles are not available for new members but are rather grown into.

The one on one skill training is a three day intensive that goes into further details about rights, duties, and potential dangers encountered within the specific role and sub-sect.

First Day as ANBU: Creating A New Person

Once a person has completed the three day intensive they are handed their mask and uniform and welcomed to their sub-sect leader. Each sub-sect has it’s own specific pledge to usher in a new member.

The first day as an ANBU is spent filling paperwork and creating their new identity. As some of the work done may be dangerous to a member’s friends or family, members are required to create a new identity to keep their privacy.

Members must create a new name for themselves as well as new critical information such as date of birth, age, and so forth. New paperwork and intel is created detailing family and personal history. None of this information is permitted to be rooted in truth. It is encouraged that members incorporate other ANBU members within their history to increase chances of capturing opposing intelligence workers as well as decrease chances of casualty to common civilian or shinobi.

CONGRATULATIONS. YOU ARE NOW A MEMBER OF THE ANBU.

#⟴ h e a d c a n o n #⟴ n a v i g a t i o n // m o b i l e

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im-the-king-of-the-ocean · 6 years ago

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It’s rather late, but this is for Day 4 (Crossovers/AUs) for @talesofarcadiafemslashweek. It’s a crossover I’ve been itching to do for a while, so subsequently took me longer to settle on what I would actually write for it :-)

Universes: Trollhunters, The Dragon Prince

Pairings: Barbara/Nomura, Amaya/Opeli

There is an air of expectation in the courtyard. There always is when General Amaya happens to be present, but today it is more than even what she usually brings. For the duration of their visitors from the Kingdom of Arcadia’s visit, there was rumors—expectations—that General Amaya and the Queen-Consort of Arcadia, Commander Zelda Nomura, would engage in a sparring match.

General Amaya’s fighting prowess is a well-known fact amongst the citizens of Katolis, so those that get to see her in action cherish the opportunity. The people had less…certainty in Commander Nomura’s abilities, at first. At least, until an incident involving assassins and Nomura’s very public neutralizing of them. Then they were just as awed by her.

The crowd around the edges of the courtyard is thick as the two woman face off at its center.

Amaya smirks at Nomura. She readies her sword and shield, and then gestures Nomura forward.

Nomura unsheathes her curved blades, smirks back, and charges.

Nomura’s blades hit Amaya’s shield, sending reverberations through it. Amaya grits her teeth. She thrusts her own sword at Nomura. Nomura blocks with her second blade.

Sparks fly off the weapons. When the combatants move away, a Crown Guard steps in to stomp them out before they can set the weeds growing between the cobblestones aflame.

Amaya and Nomura parry again, and again, and again. Neither manages to get a true strike on the other. Their blades collide. Sparks fly. They jump away from each other. Catch their respective breathes. Circle each other seeking an opening to strike. Strike.

“Had enough?” Amaya signs over to Nomura when they pause.

Nomura shakes her head in return. “I’m just getting started,” she says. Gren steps forward to interpret her words for Amaya.

Nomura wipes sweat off her forehead. “Hold these.” She hands her swords to Gren.

“Um, okay, why—?”

A flash cuts off the young man’s question. People murmur. If any of them were to speak honestly, they would admit this is the real reason why they wanted to watch the sparring match.

The Queen-Consort of Arcadia, as well as others from her kingdom, have an unusual ability. The ability to transform themselves—naturally—into creatures they call trolls. ��Since the first day of the Arcadians visit, it was the talk of the capital city. A form of magic, human magic, that isn’t Dark Magic. It fascinates many, particularly young Prince Callum, who refuses to leave the Arcadian Crown Prince (who also holds the ability), Jim, alone until he answers all his questions.

Now a tall, pink troll with lengthy black hair and brilliant green eyes, Nomura takes her swords back. She leaps an inhuman height up in the air and hurls herself at Amaya.

Amaya grins. This is what she’s been waiting for.

Up in a tower overlooking the courtyard, a woman wearing the regal Arcadian colors of gold and purple and a crown overtop her red hair, rolls her eyes. “Showoff,” she mutters at her consort in the courtyard. The corner of her mouth twitches up in a smile, though. “My love.” She adds.

Queen Barbara watches the sparring match for a moment longer before turning her attention back to the matters at hand in the room. She examines the medical equipment High Priestess Opeli set out on the table. All of it intrigues her greatly. Medicine is an area she holds much interest in. She takes care not to show it. As a queen in a land she had no treaty with and was only just visiting for the first time, it is best to display an air of caution.

“Your majesty,” Opeli addresses her. “If I may? I have heard rumors that, in your kingdom, you use enchanted stones for healing. I admit, I am curious on to how that works. Have you found a way to connect with one of the Primal Sources?”

“In a way, I suppose.” Barbara pulls up her sleeve to reveal a bracelet of polished gemstones. “These perhaps are connected to Earth magic. Though my people do not think of magic in the same way as you. The trolls showed us how to cut stones to unlock their hidden powers.” She looks up at Opeli. “But it is not the same as the Dark Magic you know. No life is stolen by this. That’s not to say that isn’t possible.” She hesitates. The war with Gunmar is not something she desires to bring up on her first diplomatic visit to Katolis. “We do not harm innocent beings, but our history is long and I will not hide the darker aspects of it. There have been those in the past who have sought power through such means. My rule started when I beheaded the last of them.” Well, that was one way of putting the destruction of Gunmar.

A knock at the door grabs both women’s attention before Opeli could respond.

Amaya walks in, followed by Nomura, who holds up a picnic basket.

“We have come to whisk our loves away from their very serious discussions for a romantic ride and picnic,” Amaya signs, and Opeli interprets. The two come together and softly kiss.

Barbara looks away to give them privacy. She feels Nomura’s familiar grasp as she wraps an arm around her and pulls her in for their own kiss.

“You know, it’s not a contest between you and the general to see who kisses their significant other better,” Barbara whispers to Nomura.

“Oh, and here I thought you were enjoying this. Would you like me to stop?”

“As your queen, I command you not to stop.”

#toafemweek #trollhunters #the dragon prince #barbmura #opaya #barbara lake #zelda nomura #general amaya #tdp opeli #crossover AU #i feel like it could be longer #but i kinda want to let this one rest #and maybe do more with the four of them later #whirls writing

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