#despite being stuck at home for 2 days due to the snow it was so nice being alone for a few days

[endlessdreaming]

back to our regularly scheduled program

[sonicasura]

Headcanons #2

Next pair of headcanons folks! Now, any headcanons retaining to gore or bodily injuries will be put under the read more tag. I'm stating this cause of the last two characters for this list! Let's get started!

Link (Post!OoT/MM)

Has severe cases of dysphoria due to his journeys. Unintentionally ducking or moving as if his body is bigger (Adult Link, Goron Link, Zora Link, Fierce Deity), flinching at dogs (Deku Link), and often gets stuck in cramped places(Deku Link is smaller than normal Link).

Built up his own sense of identity to compensate for his trauma. There are days where Link cross dresses. Some days he uses the Transformation Masks as his own body feels so foreign at times.

Avoids Hyrule Castle and the Lost Woods due to painful memories of his first adventure. Link constantly expresses any bottled up emotions to the Fierce Deity Mask whenever things get too much. Lives in a homemade 'fox' den, eventually moves into Lon Lon Ranch when Malon accidentally falls into his home.

Monkey D. Luffy

Only kind of cooking he can do is grill or roasting over a fire. It isn't very complicated for Luffy to do than trying to boil water. (He WILL make soup explode.) Decent at seasoning.

Type of person to accept heartfelt gifts or food. If someone close gives Luffy something he doesn't like, he'll still happily take it. In the case of food, he'll eat it. His nakama gave it their all with said present so why would Luffy throw away such effort?

Scrapbook kind of person. Luffy has a souvenir or photo for each island they go on. All are stuffed neatly in a box with some help from Nami. No food items cause he would eat them.

Strangled Steven and Miki

Resurrecting his Charizard Miki turned him into a demon and his dear partner undead. Steven has a monster form is unable to use it, only peeks of it come out through rage. Miki loses her Fire typing due to state of decay on her body and becomes Ghost/Flying. Still fly despite her wings being rotted to point bone is partially visible. Tail flame is non-existent since only alive Charizards have it.

Both are passive and can be befriended. Although it's best to avoid certain topics unless you are very close as Steven is easy to anger. If someone has his game, their actions judge whether he harms them or not. Make fun of said demon's pain is the quickest way to die while pity angers him.

Very possessive if befriended, more so if it's an actual relationship. Can actively haunt whoever holds the Strangled Red game, beginning being a three meter range but grows larger over time. Will threaten or attack those that get too close to 'affixation'.

Will delve into any knowledge of necromancy or any kind of revival. If Miki is fully revived, then Steven avoids putting her in battle whenever possible. Miki can possess any toys that are based on Charizard while phones or Nintendo systems are accessible to her trainer.

Snow on Mount Silver Blake and Typhlosion

Quit his career as a Pokemon Trainer if saved from Mount Silver. Has a fear of heights, the cold and Pikachu afterwards. Barely leaves his mom's house much less on his own. Has a prosthetics such as a metal leg and arm, wears an eye patch. Haunted by his Typhlosion's spirit that's mostly benevolent. Only aggro around sudden harsh cold or Pikachu. Lost it's Fire Type and is only pure Ghost. Holds decay related to frostbite such as missing patches of flesh, carved out eyes and torn mouth.

His Typhlosion can be reborn as a Hisuian Typhlosion if brought to Mount Coronet's peak. It's takes a lot of time before Blake decides to climb the mountain. His Pokemon will have some decay despite being reborn such as a missing eye and rings of scars around the neck.

Blake haunts his videogame alongside his Typhlosion, both keep malevolent Red and his Freakichu at bay. (The latter two will inflict harm on the game's owner.) Quite friendly and befriendable but Typhlosion becomes hostile if certain topics are brought up. Possible to transfer both spirits into a different game via compatible Pokemon games or Nintendo systems.

Just like with Strangled Red, Blake is possessive(not as bad as said demon) and his haunt radius grows over time. Learning about Hisuian Typhlosion opens a 'special quest' for Pokemon Legends Arceus called 'MaKiNG ThInGs RiGHT'. Completing grants the Player an item called Second Flame which boosts the power of Hisuian Typhlosion.

One last thing, Pokepasta entities like Blake(Lost Silver or Snow on Mount Silver) and Strangled Red can haunt other Pokemon games as a 'phantom NPC'. Kinda like a Co-op but depending on their view of the Player affects how nice they'll be.

Neither can kill your Pokemon unlike in their own games but will rig the difficultly or catch rates if they don't like you. Like gym leaders having LV 100 Pokemon or you can only find a Magikarp type of trolling.

That's all I have for now! Until next time folks, I'll see you later!

Next part

[iamvegorott]

Happy Family Pt. 2 of 8

Family Bonding

It’s either pants or a dress. You’re not going bare-bottomed.” Google said with a little chuckle. 

“Why not?” Etta asked, pouting on her bed. 

“Not allowed,” Google said as an explanation. “Now, do we want the sunflower dress or rose petal shirt and pants?” 

“Why is it not allowed?” Etta pointed to the dress, knowing it would be the closest to being ‘bare-bottomed’ as Google called it. 

“Just how it is. I’d walk around pantsless as well if I could.” Google joked as he started slipping Etta’s dress on her. 

“I know plenty of people that wouldn’t complain,” Bing said with a shimmy, setting Etta’s packed bookbag on the bed. He’s been coming over almost every morning for the past few months, helping to get Etta out of the door and giving Google time to get dressed and pack a lunch. 

“I’m-” Google cleared his throat when that came out as a squeak. “-I’m not so sure about that.” He could feel his face going a bit warm at that. Bing seemed to be able to do that more and more the longer they worked together with Etta. He wasn’t sure why it happened, but he wasn’t complaining since it felt, the best way to put it, nice. 

“All of us go bare-bottom!” Etta squealed her suggestion.

“Now, that would be a sight if we all went pantsless together.” Bing laughed. Google found his thoughts going elsewhere, somewhere they shouldn’t have, and his face went an even brighter red. 

“Time for those shoes, little one,” Bing said, not seeing how he had flustered Google as he scooped up a giggling Etta and finished getting Etta dressed. 

x~x~x

“Are you doing homework?” Bing asked as he came into the kitchen of Google’s home. He was over to help with dinner after Google texted him that he was running behind on everything and needed extra hands. Bing was happy Google was getting so much more comfortable with reaching out and asking for help on his own. 

“She’s just tracing the alphabet a few times. I read some articles saying that the younger you get them started on writing, the more confident they’ll be at school.” Google explained, sitting at the table with Etta. “Don’t forget this one.” He pointed to the letter she had accidentally skipped.

“Whoops!” Etta said, giggling and tracing the letter. Her hand moved slowly and precisely, trying hard to trace perfectly or at least as close as she could.  

“Homework’s still homework. Etta’s not even in school yet.” Bing chuckled as he went ahead and opened the cabinets to see what he had to work with. He practically lived there now due to how often he was there. No complaints from any of them, though. They all enjoyed the extra company. 

“Can’t get better without practice.” Google gave a playful little wag of his finger toward Bing to add to his point. 

“Gotta practice!” Etta echoed, doing the same finger wiggle as Google, or at least she tried to. 

“Alright, alright. I give, I give.” Bing fully laughed, pulling down a box of pasta and two cans of tomato sauce. “Garlic or cheese.”

“Cheese! Cheese!” Etta squealed.

“Should have known,” Bing said with a grin to Google, getting a chuckle from him.

“Cheese is always the answer.” Google flipped the paper over. “Just a few more letters to go, and maybe Bing will let you help him cook.” 

“Chef Etta!” Etta threw her hands up into the air. 

“Only if the paper gets done first,” Bing said as he used the sink to fill a big pot with water. Etta nodded and went right back to work. The tip of her tongue stuck out from the corner of her mouth as her face hardened with concentration.

“Thanks,” Google smiled softly at Bing and turned back to Etta’s paper, not seeing the little flush on Bing’s face. 

x~x~x

“No, no, no!” Etta screamed, tears rolling down her face as Bim tried to help get her jacket zipped up. 

“It’s snowing out there. You need to bundle up.” Bim used a gentle tone, despite having the little girl swatting at his hands. Etta’s had a bad day. She’s cried since the moment Google left, not wanting to play with others and wanting to be left alone. There wasn’t a fever, and Etta said she wasn’t in pain. It seemed she was just not in the mood for the world. Sometimes you have a rough day, so they mostly let Etta be and checked in on her every now and again. 

“No!” Etta likely didn’t even know what Bim was saying. She was just so done with everything and wanted to be home. Thankfully the day was over, and they were getting the last few kids ready to leave. Bing had finished getting his kids ready and came over to help.

“Let’s get your jacket on, and you can go in the beanbag corner.” Bing knew Etta loved that spot. She has napped there plenty of times. Etta continued crying, not screaming ‘no’ anymore, but still struggling. 

“Is everything okay?” Google asked as he came in. 

“Daddy!” Etta called out and ran over to him, hugging his leg. “Wanna go home!” 

“Daddy?” Google had to take a moment to recover. Etta has never called him that before. 

“She called him daddy,” Bing whispered as Bim got Etta’s bookbag and handed it to Google.

“Is everything okay?” Google asked when his brain came back to him. 

“She’s been off all day. I think she just needs to get home and rest,” Bing explained. 

“Me and you both, Etta.” Google softly chuckled. “Let’s go home, shall we?” 

“Please!”

“Want me to come over tonight?” Bing asked.

“That’d be great,” Google said.

The two shared a moment, a smile, and it almost felt like it was them and only them in the room for a moment. 

“Daddy!” Etta’s cry pulled them out of that daze. Google gave another smile and a wave as he went off. Bing waved back and happily sighed after the two were gone.

“So…when are you going to tell him?” Bim asked.

“When the moment is right.” 

x~x~x

“Big bear!” Etta squealed and giggled as she pointed at the fluffy creature in the enclosure. 

“He is a big bear,” Google said in agreement, face showing that he didn’t like how close they were to the bear, a fence being the only thing separating them. “Very big.” He repeated as he gently guided Etta to stand further away. 

“It’s not going to get you, Googs.” Bing teased, crouching down to get a closer look at the bear. 

“Can never be too sure,” Google said softly, keeping his distance. 

“Want to go look at the fish?” Bing suggested as he straightened up, catching the tone in Google’s voice and showing he was getting overwhelmed. 

“Fishies!” Etta squealed and giggled. 

“That sounds like a nice next step.” Google gave Bing a thankful smile as he took Etta’s hand and walked with them toward the aquarium part of the zoo. 

“Pretty!” Etta giggled and rushed to one of the smaller tanks that showcased a specific kind of fish. “I like the stripes.” She said as she pointed toward the fish, taking care of not tapping the glass, something she remembered being told plenty of times by Google with the little aquarium they had at home. 

“That is an angelfish,” Google explained, moving down to Etta as Bing had done earlier. 

“Angelfish,” Etta repeated, leaning towards Google with a smile and bright eyes. Bing felt his heart warm up at the sight and took a little step back, pulling his phone out and snapping a quick picture of the two. “Can I look there?” Etta pointed towards one of the much larger displays for some of the biggest fish. 

“Yes, you may. Bing and I will follow.” Google had a clear view of the wall from where he was and was comfortable with Etta taking the lead, wanting her to feel like she was exploring freely on her own a bit. 

“Okay!” Etta perked up and took right off, walking in a way that wasn’t technically ‘running’ but was still faster. A little trick she learned from Bing. 

“I see a big guy making his way to us,” Bing commented as he and Google walked over, staying a little back to let Etta enjoy herself and to let Bing get a picture of Etta pointing up at the fish.

“Look, Daddy!” Etta squealed. 

“I’m looking,” Google said with a chuckle. He watched as a different little girl went to the glass wall and looked up at the fish. Etta smiled at the other girl and kept pointing, helping the girl see the massive fish.

“On a family outing as well?” A young woman asked Google and Bing, doing the same thing as them and staying back with a young man they assumed was her husband. “It is a nice place for a little date while the kids look at the animals.” She added with a giggle. 

“Date? Oh, we’re not-”

“It sure is.” Bing cut Google off. 

“And she’s off again.�� The woman playfully sighed when her child went off for the next display. “Have fun.” She waved to Google and Bing before she and the man followed their child. 

“She thinks we’re on a date,” Google said. 

“Well…” Bing had a bit of a blush on his face as he took Google’s hand with his own. “I don’t think she’s too far off.” 

“Y-Yeah.” Google’s own face went red as well. “I think…I think she’s right.” He gave a squeeze back, taking a small step to be closer to Bing.  

----------

Prev: Link

Next: Link

[organdon3r]

The art of him isn't good😭 my friend did one so much better!!

ALSOBIM BEGGING PLEASE.IGNORE HOW HIS LORE ISNT ACCURATE TO THE GAME I KNOW EASTERMAN DIDNT ARRIVE AT SINYALA UNTIL 1955😭 I REALISED AFTER I'D WRITEN HIS LORE

His name is Taylor and was taken to the Sinyala Facility in 1947 at 22 (the image above portrays him in the "present" year of 1959 at 34!

His parents both died due to the Great Depression of 1930, which hurled him into the "foster system" at the age of 5. Of course, at the time, the system was a hit and miss - and, due to Taylor's trauma of being trapped in a house with rotting corpses for days until he managed to scale out of the house and be found by a dear old lady, the boy would spend most days surrounded by toys or in a playroom. This became a bigger issue as he grew up because the trauma still stuck even at double digits; he was also thrown around different homes because people, mostly, believed he belonged amongst the "insane" and didn't want a crazy person amongst the other children. This occurred for years until, at 16, Taylor was put into an orphanage because nobody would want him - and still, nobody took him into his care.

At 17, Taylor was booted out of the orphanage to make room for more children in the year 1947: many children were left without parents due to the Second World War, and they were still being affected 2 years after it had ended. Due to the circumstances, Taylor was left with no home, no money, and no food to his name and fended for himself on the streets. He couldn't even find a place to learn, but they would hire anyone for a job, wouldn't they? Apparently not, any and all jobs he looked at weren't hiring. Taylor was practically at a dead end. There he was, Taylor Blair Cunningham (in no relation to Jeremy Blaire), sleeping on the streets and eating whatever rubbish he could find. But then he found it, the *one* thing that could change his life - in the billowing snow, in the dimly lit nighttime lighting... a poster, a pink, battered, piece of paper with the prettiest lady he'd ever lay his eyes upon. "WE WANT YOU" in big, bold, white lettering. Someone wants me, that's all that went through Taylor's skull. And that would've been the first mistake of many.

He met my friend's reagent, Penny, at some point in his time - Taylor joined the facility when she was 6! The two quickly hit off and became inseparable, unless there was an ex-pop rocking up - then Taylor would usually book it and leave Penny to deal with despite him housing the stun rig. After a few years of dealing with the constant trials, he began to grow premature grey hairs due to the neverending stress - he could've always just released himself into the real world but something in him told him to stay with Penny. So he did. Eventually, Taylor grew his hair curly, ditching the hat so he could resemble Penny more! The two, despite Taylor being years older than his friend, had a mother/son relationship - which was sweet in hindsight but the two both had irreversible trauma that sort of made them stick.

During the trial, Kill the Snitch, when the two were fleeing out of the basement - Penny lifted the large garage door with impeccable strength and went in, ready to pull Taylor through (who was close behind, staying after Penny to throw Coyle off their tail). However, just as Taylor slid through the door, it crashed down on his arm. At first glance, Penny thought Taylor was just being stupid so she laughed but swiftly realised that her friend was in actual agony with the metal crushing his elbow to a pulp. After a bit of struggling with the door, the two managed to get Taylor's arm out... not particularly intact. Despite Taylor telling Penny that they weren't far from the end of the trial (they were), Penny forced him to leave it with her. Having to explain *that* to Emily wasn't the most fun and, days after that, Penny spent all her time in her cell sobbing about laughing at Taylor's injury. But he did get a badass bionic arm from it. It always got awkward when Penny would ask if he wanted to arm wrestle...

Injury number 2 occurred when the duo were dashing to the shuttle at the end of Vindicate the Guilty. Coyle was practically breathing down their neck, Taylor doesn't think he's heard Penny squeal that much ever. The button was pressed, the shuttle was coming - it arrived but Coyle was about to deplete Taylor of the last of his health. No bottles, no bricks, only a stun rig. With a hesitant display of stupidity, Taylor smashed the rig into Coyle - however, due to the prime asset literally stepping on his heels, the explosion also caused Taylor harm as well. He didn't exactly see what, but all he knew was that his face felt tingly and Penny looked like she'd seen a ghost as soon as he staggered into the shuttle. Explaining that to Emily, again, was awkward.

Throughout many years of running after crazed witnesses and throwing bricks at enlarged grunts, there's one thing that sort of kept a piece of the "old" Taylor intact. Dr Futterman. That stupid, loudmouth puppet attached to Phyllis Futterman's arm. Well, maybe not him exactly. Step into his cell and you'll find many items - like toys and papers filled with childish doodling - scattered amongst the figurines and plushies of Futterman himself. Presumably a bit of the childhood Taylor never got to grasp peeking through that toughened exterior.

I DIDNT MEAN TO START YAPPING LMAO😭😭 BUT YAYY TAYLOR LORE!!!

A photo of what he ACTUALLY looks like ingame🐀

Enough with the discourse and negativity.

Reblog this post with your outlast trials OC (including reagents obviously) / favorite characters and tell me about them / or saying anything you love about the game.

Feel free to dump any lore, headcanons, and fanart. Have fun with it

[tittyinfinity]

It's starting to look like the mold in this house might not be the issue (it's mostly in both bathrooms and under the sinks, took care of most of it in the bathrooms but idk bout what to do with the sinks).

After listening to some other people's experiences, I think I have long covid.

I got really sick 2 months ago. No positive tests, but the at home tests were old, and I couldn't make it to the doctor. I couldn't see straight for days. I had a seizure a couple of weeks later, and the blurry vision returned for 2 more days.

I thought that my issues were worsening due to being at my mom's since it started happening just a couple of weeks after moving back in. Granted, yes there are things here that are worsening it.

I only recently found out that I have fibromayalgia. I've had this all over body pain for a couple of years, but the pain has worsened so much that pain medication isn't helping and I'm stuck in bed way more than I used to be. The pain wasn't this bad a few months ago.

Food is extremely hard to eat now. I have to starve myself to the point of desperation to be able to eat without it coming back up. Everything aounds disgusting to me, despite the fact that most things don't really taste different. Weed used to help me eat since I have a low appetite in general, but even that isn't working now. The most noticeable taste difference is that things are spicier. I first noticed it with pepperoni pizza. The sauce and the pepperoni were spicy. I suspected that maybe I had developed a tomato allergy, so I tested it out on other foods. Basically all spices burn more, even shit like oregano. My favorite hot sauce is nearly unbearable now. It's devastating.

I get short of breath much more often. My doctor says it's from me smoking and vaping, and sure, it could have something to do with it. But I didn't have lung issues until after I got sick. I've been smoking 7 years. My mom is a pack a day smoker and started at 11 years old and she's not having this issue.

My eyes are always itchy now. I'm having cold sweats all the time. I'm showering less often. I'm lethargic or fatigued most of the time. I have constant headaches. My vision is worse now in general. The words I'm typing here used to look sharp to me, but now I see a blurring glow around the text. More visual snow, too. Tinnitus got worse. Everything is worse.

I blame it on the fact that I hadn't had another booster shot for about a year or so. Plus our at home tests were from 2021. I managed to go 3 years without covid despite everyone around me getting it. Now I got sick for a few days a couple of months ago, and everything is worse.

Sigh.

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

It's Still You and It's Still Me

Day 2: Reunion

Fandom: Altered Carbon, Takeshi Kovacs (Ryker Sleeve)

Word Count: 2222

TW: language

Note: Comfort/Fluff prompt

@amonthofwhump

As you walked through the streets of Bay City alone, you couldn’t help but be disgusted at what civilization had become. You had been awake now for months, your mislabeled stack accidently inserted into a Meth’s sleeve. After escaping the resleeving facility, you had managed to transfer as much money as possible from the Meth’s account to your new account before your access was locked. But it didn’t matter. The amount of money you took could keep you hidden for a thousand years, yet you doubted the Meth would even notice it was missing.

But the shock of waking up from stasis was nothing compared to the shock of what this world had become. Everything you had worked towards changing, on improving as an Envoy, had just gotten worse. The division between the wealthy and the poor had just become further apart, to the point the wealthiest of citizens no longer even lived on the ground but floated high above the crumbling filth of the city.

And despite the loneliness and pain of their loss, part of you was happy that you were the last remaining Envoy. What would Quell think of this place? Or Desoto or Reileen or any of the other residents of Stronghold? What would Tak have to say about it?

Even thinking his name sent a sharp stab of pain through your heart. For the first few weeks, you had held onto some crazy hope that the mix up that happened with you could also happen with Takeshi. Afterall, you had both been captured and “killed” at the same time. If there had been a mistake in your storage, it was reasonable to assume there could be a mistake in his as well. But that hope had soon given way to realism. Tak was gone. And you were on your own. But even though you had accepted that fact, the ache of his loss never got any less.

Especially on nights like tonight. As snow began to drift softly around you, you couldn’t help but think about the last time you saw swirling white dust falling from the sky. Back when it had been the ash of your burning home as you watched as Stronghold was destroyed. But that was when you still had Takeshi at your side, in your arms.

You stuck out a hand to catch a flake as it twirled to the ground, and you were startled by the limb that reached out. All the other Envoys had been used to jumping from body to body, but this was the first time you were in a new sleeve. The first time you are in a skin that you weren’t born into. And even after all this time, you still hadn’t gotten used to how different it is: the coloring, the height, the shape, the level of fitness. You wondered what Tak would think of you now. Another stab of pain hit you as you approached your hotel.

As you entered The Raven, you were shocked to find blood soaking almost every surface of the lobby. You had chosen this place as your hideout due to its rundown appearance and lack of other guests, but this was taking things a bit far. Poe noticed your arrival immediately and materialized at your side.

“Madam, I am terribly sorry, but we had a bit of an incident tonight.”

“Yeah, I can see that. What the hell happened?”

“We have a new guest.”

You just grunted in response. So far, you had been the only resident of The Raven and you liked it that way. But you had known there was always the possibility of other guests at some point. However, the worried look on Poe’s face seemed to point towards something more.

“What else?”

The AI looked nervously at the floor. “Well, you see, this gentleman made a specific request…. A room on the top floor.”

Your voice grew hard and deadly as you glared at him. “And what did you tell him?”

“I told him that floor was reserved for you…. But he insisted. He is being funded by one of the most powerful Meths in the city, so I wasn’t in a place to deny his request.”

A low growl sounded in your throat. You had grown accustomed to having the entire floor to yourself and you were not going to give it up without a fight. Especially not to some Meth lackey. There were hundreds of floors for this new arrival to pick from, but the top one was yours and yours alone. Of course, you could always move instead, but your Envoy intuition reminded you that the top floor was the best strategic location for both defense and offense. So, that left only one option.

“What room is he in?”

“Madam, I can’t just giv-”

“Room number Poe. Now.”

As you rode the elevator up to the top of the building, you tried to calm yourself. It wouldn’t do any good to go in there guns blazing right off the bat. But you had already lost so much already, you weren’t about to give up this safe haven you had made for yourself.

The second you arrived at his door, you loudly and firmly pounded on it. When nothing happened, you raised your hand to try again, but just then the door swung open. Standing before you was a breathtakingly handsome man, whose features only seemed to be enhanced by the blood and bruises that littered his face. His damp hair was hanging limply over intense, hazel eyes. Even from here, you could tell he smelled like a strange mix of soap, blood, and cigarettes. As you trailed your gaze down, you could see both new and old scares scattered across his bare, broad frame all the way to the towel wrapped around his waist.

Reluctantly, you drug your eyes up to his face once more as you snarled, “Get the fuck off my floor.”

He didn’t even flinch at your attitude or your words. He just tried to silently close the door in your face, but you jammed your foot in the crack before it could close all the way. “I said. Get. The. Fuck. Off. My. Floor.”

The man met your furious gaze and calmly growled back, “No.” He put his hand on your chest and gave you a firm shove, catching you by surprise. As you stumbled back, he quickly took this opportunity to slam the door shut.

Furious, you steadied yourself before once again approaching the door. Fine. If he wants to be like that, two can play at that game. After quickly making a few mental calculations, you smashed your foot into the door right at its weakest point. It shattered, sending shards of wood scattering across the room as the remaining hanging piece swung open.

The man stared incredulously at what was left of his door as you calmly entered the room. “You know, that’s no way to treat a lady.”

“What the fuck! How did you do that?”

“Meth upgrades. Nice, aren’t they?” You flexed the muscle in your arm as you gave him a cocky smirk.

Suddenly, Poe once again materialized in front of you. “My monitors showed a disturbance in this ar-” The AI caught sight of what was left of the door. He sighed heavily. “Another one, madam?”

You shrugged. “I told you before. I’m still getting used to this new sleeve and I don’t always have control of my own strength. Just add it to my tab.”

Poe sighed wearily before muttering, “Very well.” And in a blip, he was gone.

Turning back to the man, you placed your hands on your hips, once again giving him the most intimidating glare this sleeve could make as you nodded towards the broken door. “Now, get the fuck out, or I’ll do that to your spine.”

The man rolled his shoulders as he shifted into a fighting stance. “Just try. You have no idea who the fuck you are dealing with.”

You smiled confidently, as you took your own combat position. “Bring it on, big boy.”

He launched himself at you and you dodged with a perfectly timed tuck and roll. Leaping up, you hurled your fist at his face, only for him to block it a split second before it made contact. He tried throwing you aside, but you used the momentum to gracefully flip over and land behind him. Sweeping out your leg, you attempted to throw him off balance. However, he predicted this action and he jumped just before you could knock him over.

Blow after blow was blocked. Maneuver after maneuver thwarted. It was if you anticipated his next move, your body reacting before your mind could process what was about to happen. However, he seemed to be doing the same thing.

You had never seen this man before in your life, you were sure of that. However, since when did that matter. This sleeve could be inhabited by anyone’s stack. Even…. No, it couldn’t be…

You froze as the idea hit you like a speeding bullet. You didn’t want to let yourself give into that hope once more, but only one person had ever fought against you like this.… As you hesitated, the man’s fist connected harshly with your jaw, sending you sprawling to the floor. But when you looked back up at him, the tears in your eyes were not caused by the pain of the impact. “Tak? Takeshi, is-is that you?”

For the first time the man seemed taken aback, his guard lowering just slightly. But whether it was by the name or your sudden change in demeanor, you weren’t sure. Before he could respond, you stood and cautiously reached out your hand. He flinched but allowed you to touch him.

Placing your fingers gently on the center of his forehead, you ran them across his hairline then down the side of his face, following his jaw. Then, just before you reached his chin, you lightly grazed them over his lips. It was the same gesture you had done a thousand times to Tak, your way of telling him I love you and I’m here for you.

The man licked his lips where your fingers had been seconds before. He stared at you intensely, not moving, not blinking. But just as you felt the blossoming hope in your chest start to wilt once more, he hesitantly whispered, “Songspire?”

Your heart exploded in your chest at the sound of Tak’s name for you. You fell into his arms, clinging tightly to him to make sure he didn’t disappear again. He ran his hand over your hair, down your back, clawed at your hips, trying to prove to himself you were real, not just another hallucination.

Tears in your eyes, you managed to choke out, “How? How are you here?”

The man – Takeshi – clutched your face in between his large palms. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“There was a mix up with my stack. I got spun up on accident then I managed to escape and I’ve been hiding out ever since. But what about you? Poe mentioned you’re working for a Meth?”

Tak grunted. “Not exactly by choice.” His voice was so much deeper and gruffer than you were used to, but now that you knew the truth, you could begin to feel your Tak underneath. “They needed someone with Envoy abilities to help track down who murdered one of them. It was either help them or go back on ice. I was planning on leveraging my help to get you a new sleeve, but I guess it’s not really necessary anymore.”

You pressed your forehead firmly against his. “Tak,” you whispered his name, still not fully believing any of this is real. “Please tell me this isn’t a dream.”

He shook his head. “It can’t be, because every night in my dreams, I lose you. But I will never let that fucking happen again.”

His lips crash into yours, the weight of 250 years of separation behind them. You returned the kiss with just as much passion. But as magical as this moment felt, it also seemed slightly strange and uncomfortable. Your new sleeves didn’t fit together the same way anymore. He was taller than before, broader and more muscular. And try as you might, you couldn’t figure out how to get comfortable against him. Everything just felt out of place.

Tak noticed your hesitation immediately. When he saw your face, he looked at you with complete understanding in his eyes. “The sleeves?” You nodded guiltily, but he just held your face in his hands. “It’s okay. I forgot this was the first time you had been resleeved. It takes a while to get used to how everything is different. But it’s still me and it’s still you. And that’s what matters.”

And you could see it, slowly but surely. As hard as it was to look past the gorgeous face in front of you, you could see the man underneath. The man that you loved. So, looking deep into his hazel eyes, you whispered, “Can you show me?”

Takeshi nodded as he gave you a wicked grin. Then he swept you into his strong arms as he carried you to his bed.

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

I am very much considering making this a series so if you would like to see more, please let me know! Thanks!

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 16

The Darkling x Reader

'It's work-related Baghra, I'm not here because I miss you'

'Then get to it.' She snapped and walked around you, settling in her seat by the fire.

'How is Alina getting along?'

'Like a wounded animal' You sighed. As much as you hated the woman, she had a knack for training Grisha and always succeeded so this wasn't good.

'How bad is it?'

'She can't light a doorway on her own without Aleksander clutching her wrist.'

'Surely she's not that weak. Maybe you're just losing your touch'

'Get out.' She snapped.

'The Fete is 2 weeks away, it would do you well to make sure she doesn't embarrass herself' You let a subtle threat slip into your words but in reality, you couldn't touch Baghra, Aleksander forbade it himself.

'Or else what? You'll wrap my own shadows around my neck and wring me to death?'

'Perhaps.'

'Foolish girl. You have a pretty face but deep down you are uglier than the Black Heretic himself.' Baghra always seemed to have a paramount of new insult ready to throw your way.

'Well isn't it lucky that I share a bed with him'

'You are absurd'

'Only the best of us are.' With that, you left the blistering heat and made your way back into the palace, your mind drifting back to your first ever encounter with Baghra.

----

'You'll train with Baghra' General Kirigan said as you awkwardly stood in your lavish suite, feeling the ill-fitting Tidemaker kefta weighing heavily on your shoulders.

'I can fight already there's no need' You didn't want to be here, you wanted to go back to your regiment in the First-Army and sleep on an uncomfortable cot surrounded by your friends. The Palace reminded you too much of your old family home to the point of it making you uneasy.

'Not that kind of training' As handsome as the General was, you didn't let yourself succumb to his looks or that faint smile, even if it did erupt small butterflies in your body. Don't trust him.

'Do I have to wear this coat?' It was the first time you'd put it on and although it was very well made, you didn't think it suited you.

'That's your uniform from now on I'm afraid.' He gestured to his own black kefta. It was magnificent.

At the time, you hadn't yet known you could possess more than one Grisha power, but that was about to change really soon as he led you down the narrow steps leading to a hut.

It was nestled deep in the Palace gardens, and you longed for the same privacy. It wasn't anything like the Little Palace with its dull exterior and homely interior. But the heat, oh the heat, it was scalding. You fiddled with the kefta belt and buttons, tugging the thick coat off of you as you looked around, awaiting the woman the General referred to as Baghra.

'Hello?' You folded the blue coat over the back of a chair, feeling too awkward to sit down.

'You must be the Elemental, child you stick out like a sore thumb' An old woman appeared in the doorway. Her hair was graying and her clothes looked worn.

'An- wha- elemental?' You tested the words on your tongue, were you not a Grisha?

'Sit.' You did as you were told as she sat opposite you, leaning forward and having a good look at you.

'I've only ever met one of you, you're very rare'

'What am I' The urgency in your voice was strong.

'You take powers from other Grisha. You don't have any of your own.'

'So I'm not a Grisha. Why am I here then?' You scoffed.

'Just because you can't conjure up on your own doesn't mean you are not Grisha'

'I don't want to be here.'

'You've made that quite obvious.'

The room stilled as you thought about which questions to ask next.

'Is it hereditary?'

'Most likely. One doesn't don't know they are an Elemental until they touch a Grisha who is conjuring, hence why you're so rare. There's no test for it.'

'I don't fit in'

'No. You don't.' At least the old woman agreed. 'But don't let that be the reason you flock to change. There are those out there that would kill to have you in their ranks.' She eyed you again, a hidden meaning in her words that you couldn't decipher.

'I can be more than just a Tidemaker?'

'You can be much more, but only if you know how to control it.' She gripped your wrist suddenly, and a weird feeling spread through you, much like the one when General Kirigan touched you. It was like a rush of calm and surety.

'You have potential, a lot of it.'

'How are you going to train me if you've only ever known one of me?' You didn't mean to sound as harsh as you did, but you were growing impatient.

'Grisha science is simple child, even for those who come from Merzost.'

'Merzost?'

'Maybe in due time, Y/N. Maybe then I'll explain.'

-----

She never explained it, never mentioned it to Aleksander, never taught you properly. She held you back constantly and consistently. It was only when you left and almost died did you learn the true reason behind your kind and it still made you apprehensive.

You had yet to dabble in Merzost yourself even though your whole being came from it. You had felt drawn to it sure, but you understood that there was always a price to pay. Like Aleksander with the Fold, or Ilya when he created the amplifiers. You weren't willing to satisfy that silent thirst just yet if it meant sacrificing something dear to you.

The Palace was swimming in life right now despite the brutally cold air. The children had just finished school for the day and were running around playing in the snow while the Summoners were practicing on their grounds. It was nice to hear their laughs and content conversations, a stark contrast to the life you led a mere month ago.

The Little Palace wasn't perfect, but it was the sanctuary Grisha needed and you took pride in the fact that you helped achieve that. Aleksander may have done the bulk of the work, but you put blood, sweat and tears into ensuring that all kinds of Grisha felt safe in Ravka.

You watched as the young Tidemakers used all their might to break through the thick layers of ice on the lake. They worked in unison and in silence as the water shot up and behaved as if it were their puppet and they controlled the strings.

'Reminiscing?' Aleksander appeared at your side in his dramatic black cape.

'When I first came to the Palace, I truly thought I would be stuck as a Tidemaker forever' You laughed at your childish insolence.

'What's so wrong with being a Tidemaker?'

'Hmmm, maybe the fact that East Ravka is land-locked?'

'We have a lake' He pointed out with an amused grin. 'How is Alina?' He changed the topic.

'Your mother is doubtful'

'Isn't she always' His eyebrow raised in a sign of annoyance.

'Claims Alina cannot do anything without an amplifier by her side.'

'She's holding back.'

'Alina or Baghra?'

'Both.' You turned away from him, returning your gaze to the Tidemakers.

'You think she's up to something?'

'When is she not up to something, I fear your return has made her antsy.' You couldn't help but let out a giggle.

'Baghra is unnerved by me, my life goal is complete.'

'She thinks you corrupt me.'

'Does she know it is the other way around?' You mused and took hold of his hand, the action hidden behind his cape.

'I'm offended Ms.Y/L/N. I was under the impression we are both as bad as the other.' He squeezed your hand back, the cool silver ring pressing against your skin. You shivered, cursing yourself for not bringing a cape.

'I think I have to go back in' You said as you watched your breath leave in a cloud of fog.

'I think that's best.' He gave your hand one last tight squeeze and let go, leaving a brief kiss against your temple. You watched the elegant sway of the black material as he made his way to Baghra's hut.

You ran back to the warmth of the indoors and requested a food tray be brought back to your chambers while you dealt with stationing new Grisha around the camps. It was tedious and boring but once you got this done, the rest of the day was yours to do whatever you wished. The library was calling your name, but so was the banya. You had spent so much time in the Little Palace covered in mounds of work you completely forgot to enjoy yourself.

As you signed the last station order, you leaned back into your chair with a sigh and sipped the rest of the kvas in your glass. It wasn't even dinner time yet but you found yourself stifling a yawn. Your mind wandered to Aleksander for the umpteenth time that day. Why did he go to Baghra?

-------

His steps were loud as he descended the stairs into the main part of the hut. Baghra was still sitting in her chair from her previous talk with Y/N when she heard the door squeal open.

'Mother.' His voice echoed throughout the small building alongside the crackling of the fire.

'Have you come to ask about your Sun-Summoner? if so then the Witch has already beat you to it'

'Don't call her that, she's your Deputy now'

'I will call that brat whatever I please.'

'Baghra, I am warning you.' He didn't care for her petty games.

'Do you not see her for what she is Aleksander? She hasn't changed. You cannot go back from the atrocities she has committed.'

'Have you forgotten who I am, who we are?' He spat through his teeth.

'But you have a cause Aleksander, she craves power for the simple reason of it being addictive.'

Baghra had tried to reason with her son countless times about the girl. She pleaded with him when he'd first given himself to her, she's a monster, she will ruin you.

'I have shown you so much mercy Mother, am I not kind enough to you? Must you curse the woman I love?'

'Love is foolish my son and it never got you anywhere. She is trouble, let her go.'

'You would be an amazing court jester' He laughed and sat down beside her leaning in closer 'I am an arm's length away from finding the stag and when I do, the sun-summoner will be at our disposal and Ravka will be ours.'

'The stag is fictional. A myth. You are wasting your time.'

'If a Sun-Summoner walks amongst us, a magical stag isn't in the least a doubtful tale.'

'I'll believe it when I see it. Besides, your biggest worry right now is getting rid of the plague that haunts this Palace.'

'And what would that be, do enlighten me, mother.'

'The woman who came in here earlier bragging about sharing your bed.' Aleksander's heart leaped in his chest. She wasn't ashamed to admit it.

He leaned in closer to his mother, taking her worn hand into his.

'I suggest you find a way to get over your hatred for Y/N before it's too late. Nobody disrespects the Queen and gets away with it'

He got up and made his way to the door, ignoring the look of fury on his mother's face. He was too far away to hear her whisper;

'My boy, you will never get either of those things as long as I live.'

-----

Part 17

Taglist (tell me if you want to be added to the Little Witch taglist!!)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess @lunas1x1 @lifeisingrey @edithsvoice

[carryon-anon-fest]

ART

I Just Wanna Dance With You (G)

The Prom AU

Firebreathing Simon (G)

Make A Wish (G)

G/T+

The Best Laid Plans of Magazines and Men (T)

Helping Baz learn to flirt with Simon in a healthy way seemed like a brilliant idea. Unfortunately, Dev and Niall's plans and their friend's capabilities are a bit of a mismatch. 'A bit' being an egregious understatement. Hilarity, predictably, ensues.

Craziest Season (T)

Baz is bringing Simon home for Christmas this year, so he can finally meet his family. The catch? Baz is not out to any of them yet, contrary to what Simon originally believed. They end up pretending to be just roommates, but it's fine, really. It's only for five days. What can possibly go wrong in only five days? (Everything, apparently.)

When We Fight We Fight Like Lions (But Then We Love and Feel the Truth) (T)

Simon and Baz are secret agents, working for W.A.T.F.O.R.D (the Worldwide Agency for Threat Flagging Operations, Reconnaissance and Defence) They have to go on their biggest mission yet, to infiltrate a top-secret weapons convention. The only problem is, they have to do it under the cover of a newly-wed couple...

The One My Soul Loves (T)

The “Worst Chosen One” has a gift for technology. What if that had been encouraged instead? This time, he and Penny stop the Humdrum before eighth year. Simon finally has time for his dream project: a soulmate finder app. Others find love, but Simon’s match won’t download the app. Can he find peace with this? Why is Baz acting strange? What will happen when an unhappy user curses Simon, driving up the stakes to find his soulmate?

Classroom Politics (T)

At twenty-five, Simon Snow’s life is finally on the up. He’s got his magic back, people listen to him, and he can draw the Sword of Mages. A lot of people think he should lead the Coven. But not everyone. The Old Families still see Simon as their enemy and they’re quite willing to quote obscure magickal law to stop him ascending to Mage. Simon’s never backed down from a challenge, though, or let anyone stop him doing what he needs to do. He’s not starting now. Even if it means going back to school.

However Souls Are Made (Ours Are the Same) (T)

Fiona wants to come out and shock her parents, so she enlists Ebb to help. Ebb agrees to fake-date Fiona for the hols—they're best friends, aren't they? She can help Fiona out a bit. Except Ebb has been half in love for years and Fiona is plotting, as is the Pitch way.

Why We're No Longer Allowed to Do Boardgame Nights (T)

After a disaster on the night of 2 February 2019, I have decided to conduct a report to look into a case that ended horribly, after starting as a simple boardgame night. This report is constructed entirely of witness statements. Let’s begin. (Aka, The Gang decide to have a night of Monopoly, Twister and other such things, and it goes tits up)

The Kind of Love I Want (G)

An awkward conversation between Simon and Agatha leads to new revelations and a friendship reborn.

Happier Memories (G)

In which Simon decides to plan, and Baz decides to do something impulsive.

Here, Kitty-Kitty... (G)

Simon adopts a cat. Baz pretends to hate him. It's probably safer for everyone this way...

In the Middle (T)

Simon should be overjoyed at his Penelope's engagement, the second of his sisters to be so fortunate, but all he can think about is Mr Grimm-Pitch. He fears he has ruined the greatest chance of happiness he could ever have hoped for.

Today Is Tomorrow (T)

Simon Snow's having the worst day of his life... over and over and over again.

Mirror, Mirror (T)

For all the Mage's claims that Simon Snow was the World of Mages' prophesied savior, the Humdrum certainly wasn't the only danger their world faced and Simon certainly wouldn't save the world alone.

The Coolest Part (By Far) (G)

When Penny leaves for a study trip, Simon and Baz are left all alone. And who can blame them for getting a kitten? In their defense, they were left unsupervised.

Hallmark Presents: Amid the Winter's Snow (T)

Big city businessman Baz Pitch just wants to get the promotion he's been gunning for. When he travels to his quaint hometown for Christmas, he (literally) runs into the most handsome man he's ever seen and ruins his day. Thus begins the animosity of a lifetime as the town prepares for the annual Christmas Eve Ball. Baz never asked for love. And he definitely never asked to discover the True Meaning of Christmas.

How I Find Myself Without You (T)

At a dinner party with friends, Penny, Shepard, and Agatha come clean about their relationship...and about where Agatha's been living all this time.

If You Wanna Be My Lover (T)

It's the week before graduation, and former roommates Simon and Baz run into each other at a particularly lively karaoke night. In between terrible renditions of "Brown-Eyed Girl" and "Mr. Brightside," they just might begin to realize what it is that they really really want.

NSFW FICS BELOW:

So Close, We've Always Been (E)

Simon Snow has worked in security for most of his life, having dealt with some of the most difficult clients. None has come as close to being as frustrating as Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. The man is stuck-up, arrogant, and a complete arsehole. He's rude, careless, and Simon really should have quit months ago. Until there's something more that keeps him by Baz's side... Namely him being the best shag Simon's ever had. He may insist that the nights with Baz mean nothing, but not even he can prevent the feelings that start to flicker beneath the sheets.

Hard to Get (M)

Dev needs a favour. Baz agrees despite his better judgment. Because it really wouldn't matter to anyone, especially not to Simon Snow Salisbury. Or would it?

Kiss Him, Then Go. (E)

Tomorrow morning, Simon Snow will face his lifelong nemesis on the battlefield. But tonight, he sneaks into the Pitch family compound, and seeks out his former roommate.

Feed Me I Live (Drink I Die) (M)

Off the sofa, out of the flat. That's Baz's only goal when he brings Simon along with him to a house Fiona discovered on her vampire hunt across the country. There was only supposed to be books there. Baz knows books. Simon knows how hungry creatures grow.

Midlife Crisis (E)

Following his midlife crisis, Baz finds himself in the middle of the countryside. It’s plenty annoying as it is, without the trouble of him meeting the local constable Simon Snow, whom he somehow finds attractive. But that is only due to the bloody fresh air, right? Not in one hundred years would Baz fall for someone like him.

[bitchapalooza]

Hetalia nekotalia headcanons(covering just a few of them)

It seems weird that the cats would just be called "Italy-cat" by the actual nation whose name is already Italy so I wasted my time in figuring out their possible breeds and searching up acceptable names(unless stated otherwise) for them that the nations may pick for them and even where the nations obtained these cats. I think they've come to value these cats on the same level as themselves due to how long they may have been around(the same goes for whatever other pet(s) they may own). I thought this was a fun thing to do and honestly it was! :)

Might do more when I get the time again~

***Tw for mentions of animal abuse***

Americat:

Domestic long hair, possible Maine Coon mix!

I think America adopted his cat in the 1980s. He was just a kitten, abandoned outside a supermarket in a box with a sign with one other kitten inside. At least 2 months old. America, having a big heart and soft spot for animals of any kind, took them both in. However he was already struggling to buy proper food for his other animals so he needed to find a different home for them. America ended up keeping one, as he fell absolutely head over heels for him, and named him Liberty— for obvious personal reasons. America raised him for the majority of his life as an indoor cat but with how much energy he has he decided to train him to be an outdoor cat as well, even teaching him to use the doggy door. This gave him enough room to actually grow faster into the adult cat he is now compared to if he'd ALWAYS be around America(as in staying small due to the slow aging around America).

Canacat:

Domestic longhair, possible Maine Coon mix!

Canada adopted him after America offhandedly asked. Canada was pretty stuck when it came to naming him. It was 4 weeks into owning him, mostly calling him a range of names such as Paul and Rookie but never sticking to one for even one whole day, but when Canada was just sitting there eating breakfast before leaving for his daily duties, just a normal quiet morning it came to him. Again, he was just sitting there. That is until the kitten figured out how to climb onto the chair next to him that is. He sat there meowing and pawing at Canada's thigh for 10 minutes while Canada ate. And then he tried to jump onto the table 3 times in a row. Canada gave in and allowed him up there for a minimum of 3 minutes. Not even 1 second passed and suddenly the little rascal is trying to steal the last couple bites of pancake. That was apparently what he wanted. And so Canada named him Pancake! Pancake was an energetic little kitten that a spring in his step but he did mellow out as he grew into adulthood. He's mainly an indoor cat. Come winter time when it snows, Pancake has a tendency to forget the existence of snow so he goes bolting for it only to regret it later.

Germany-cat:

A black or gray German Rex!

Germany isn't exactly a big cat person, he prefers dogs. But after this kitten followed Prussia's cat all the way home and noticed how thin he was he couldn't resist taking care of him. Germany ended up naming him Maus in reference to how tiny and often silent his meow was as a kitten. Now it's just a hilarious name as he's grown quite big and has a very strong meow! Maus is a very well behaved cat although it seems he doesn't favor being played with. He's most often seen at the top of his cat tower or in the window basking in the warm sun. As he was previously found as a stray outside he still does favor being outside. He tends to escape whenever Germany unlocks the doggy door or when Germany let's the dogs out in the backyard to run around for a bit. Maus may be a very mellow cat but he does tend to be loud when he wants food and doesn't want to wait for it. He also tends to attack people when suddenly being pet.

Prussia-cat:

An albino German Rex!

Prussia adopted him in 1998 after his and Germany's new home became a little overrun with mice. Prussia affectionately named him Gunther. Gunther was a spunky little kitten, in fact he was the runt of 6 other siblings and noticeably different to his siblings in appearance(originally thought to just take after the father's white coat despite the orange coats of his siblings and mother). Prussia chose him, the teeny little runt, after watching him easily sneak up and take down his bigger sister and win the play-fight he started. Prussia proudly took him home and trained him to catch the mice! Some years later, Gunther apparently got curious and brave and got loose outside. He was gone for weeks. He came back with a limp, a fresh scar, and a kitten clinging to his side. Gunther rarely escapes outside anymore. Prussia didn't know Gunther was albino until took he took him to the vet for his shots.

Itabby and Romano-cat:

They're both European shorthairs!

When the Italies were freshly unified and everything was still pretty awkward they were forced to go bond by taking walks every morning. Veneziano didn't mind this, he enjoyed the morning and even more so the countryside around them. Romano however could care less about it all and just wanted his bed back. Veneziano was all conversation, very observant of his surroundings as he commented on them to strike up an interesting conversation. And that's how he noticed a man cruelly stuffing two kittens into a sack on their way out of town. After alerting his brother, the two confronted the man. The man claimed these two were sick because neither were getting any of their mother's milk like the rest. Romano demanded he hand the kittens over or else he'd regret it. Veneziano annoyed him with his whining to the point where he gave in and handed them over quite harshly. Once they got them safely away from the man they took a look at the 1 week old kittens; they were both terribly skinny but clearly hanging on for dear life and the brothers both agreed, for once(well more like Romano kept saying "whatever the fuck you want"), that they wanted to help these poor creatures. Luckily for them they knew a stray cat that just had another litter of 3 and could perhaps try to get her to accept two more. And she did! Well it took a day but she did eventually take them in and feed them. Veneziano immediately decided that once they were old enough to eat solid foods he was going to keep one of them and name him Gino! It took a while for Romano to warm up to the idea of keeping even one but he eventually did. He took the other kitten and named him Sonno. They've lived so long due to just how clingy they are to the brothers. Their aging was so slowed down because of how often they're near the Italies that they didn't become fully grown adult cats until some time around 1932.

Japan-cat:

Japanese bobtail!

Named Yoshi* for being Japan's little lucky charm. Yoshi was left behind by his previous family after they moved away. He left his home and began wandering around until he got to Japan's house. Taking notice of how the cat stuck around his house, Japan began feeding him. And feeding him. And feeding him. And eventually he accepted the idea that he was now a cat owner. Not knowing his previous name, Japan decided to rename him Yoshi. Because of Yoshi, Japan began to come outside more and more each day as he is an outdoor cat that seldomly comes inside anymore. What's more is Yoshi came into his life in 1999, just a few months before 2000— aka when The Lost Decade was coming to an end as well as his personal on and off string of depressive episodes. Japan spoils Yoshi with treats and only the best cat food he can afford!

*The real name given to him by Himaruya is Tama, most likely a reference to calico cat Tama from Kinokawa, Wakayama Prefecture, Japan(that's at least what I've gathered). Before I knew this(in my early fandom days) I headcanoned his name to be Yoshi, as I said above it was a reference to luck(I didn't have as easy and unmonitored access to the internet as I do now so I never had a steady way to look these things up). I like Tama as well but I still can't get the name Yoshi out of my mind! I'm not sure if Yoshi and Tama can be combined like some names here in America can be combined(like Lilian Pad[as in Lily Pad] or Patches Poo) and I don't want to attempt it in case I get it wrong no matter how much research I do.

Austria-cat:

Domestic longhair!

Austria has quite the soft spot for this kitty surprisingly. He was born on his estate after his mother wandered in and settled between a couple bushes in his garden. He was born one of three kittens, almost entirely identical to his mother. Austria ended up giving names to all the cats but this one specifically was named Mozart— for very obvious reasons on Austria's part. The mother cat and two of the other kittens ended up moving along a year later after Austria decided to renovate part of his house; however the only one to stick around was Mozart. Austria would let Mozart come inside if only he could manage to pick him up. Mozart will jump into his lap outside, brush up against him, greet him in the morning, allow him to come near(especially with food and clean water) and even pet him but he won't ever peacefully allow Austria to carry him. Mozart was originally thought to be a Ragdoll however it was France who identified him to be a simple domestic longhair instead.

China-cat:

Burmese cat!

Originally a stray that endlessly bothered a shop owner and his own cat, China attracted his attention when he fed him only once. This cat followed him all the way to the hotel he was staying at not far from the little shop, which annoyed him greatly but honestly gave him a little laugh as well. As his car ride home was only going to be an hour at best he decided to at least attempt to bring the little fella home for proper care and attention. And obviously it worked. On his way home he decided a name like Zhi seemed perfect for him! Something told China Zhi was used to car rides and being around people, which told him Zhi was originally in a loving home. Feeling a little sad that this nice loyal cat was living on the streets he began to pamper him. Now Zhi expects to be brushed twice a day, let out at least once a day to soak in the sun's warmth and lay in the soft grass. He's fed the best food possible, has more toys that he knows what to do with. China's cellphone is overrun with videos of Zhi playing fetch— a trick he didn't teach him which, to him, is further proof he had a previous owner.

Russia-cat:

Siberian cat!

Taken in from a rescue shelter, at first fostered, then adopted. Russia kept the name the shelter gave him, Boris, as it fit him very well considering his past. Boris was unfortunately neglected when his previous owner was around. His fur was matted, he was skin and bones, upon pick up he had an eye infection. He was terribly scared of people. After being treated and showed kindness, it wasn't very long for him to open up. When Russia came along and took him in to give him all the proper attention he lacked, Boris fell in love with it. And Russia fell in love with having a cat around. Before anyone could swoop in and try to adopt Boris, Russia already put in to adopt. Now Boris is a happy healthy cat who's favorite toy to play with is Russia's supply of yarn. Boris loves bird or feather based toys the most, however, and will often drag his favorite feather wand over to Russia so he'd play. He's not much of an outdoor cat but after being kept mostly in a small cage since birth he does enjoy at least laying on the porch outside.

France-cat:

A Sacred Birman with light creamy point colouration!*

Obtained as a newly born kitten in 1992, France had offered to help nurture him as his mother had died shortly after giving birth. France named him Minou, more so in honor of his deceased mother Minet rather than it being a common French cat's name(some assume he was lazy with his naming). Minou grew up to be properly spoiled and loved by France. From the time he could see and walk properly, France began putting light outfits and accessories on him for very small amounts of time(like hats and ties mainly to avoid overheating). Minou often silently greets France at the door whenever he comes home, barreling through the hallway or off the couch in order to get some much needed love and attention. He surprisingly gets along very well with France's pet birds, only ever going after them once as a kitten. Minou can be found in his luxurious cat bed made of cardboard from the cat tower's box and a quilt France had crafted long long ago that's now drastically torn in various places. OR he can be found planting his fanny on France's face at night, nearly suffocating him. Minou seems to have a likeness for Russia and England.

*I know France-cat doesn't have any visible point colorations to him but him being a Persian doesn't fit him in my opinion, especially a blue eyed white cat. There's a high percentage of blue eyed white cats being deaf. However a common trait in Birmans are blue eyes so that, to me, fits better.

Iggycat:

Scottish fold-American shorthair mix!*

Obtained through a small litter from a colleague. England named him Lopsy  immediately upon seeing him, completely falling in love with him. Due to Lopsy's health concerns(osteochondrodysplasia) he's strictly an indoor cat. He's not very playful due to the pain he endures so he's prone to lay about, especially in England's lap, in his cat bed that sits directly under the window to reach the sunlight, or under England's bed. Despite being on them for so long, it still takes quite the struggle to give Lopsy his medication as he's come accustomed to when England is preparing to give it to him. As he's not very active, Lopsy isn't too fond of France's, America's, or Canada's cats— all of which tend to love playing together. However there are times when Minou is in non-playful mode where Lopsy will lay near or eat with him, but will absolutely refuse to lay with since Minou does have a tendency to attack another cat's tail without warning.

*The reason I see him as a mix is due to the major health concerns breeding two Scottish folds together can bring. However, breeding a Scottish fold with an American shorthair or British shorthair is often the better choice as there's less issues involved. There's talk about banning the breed all together. Even with this talk, breeding persists, preferably for cat shows from the sound of it. There's even research going into fixing these health concerns but it seems incurable due to the Scottish fold disease seeming to be a very dominant trait no matter what secondary breed it's bred with. Scottish fold disease doesn't always occur in a litter, mostly being a 50% change.

Spain-cat:

European shorthair!

Named Vivo for his lively personality, this little guy was found in the rain, drenched and hungry. He looked to be roughly 3 months old, very well fed and groomed so Spain assumed he had a family he ran away from for whatever reason. Without any other solution, Spain took him in until someone came to pick him up. A few weeks go by without anyone coming to claim him, so Spain opted to keep Vivo. Vivo is very loving, he possess a strong purr and often falls asleep purring. He's a lap cat but also has a tendency to curl up on or near Spain's shoulder when he's on the couch. Vivo is mainly an outdoor cat, often chasing mice or other vermen away from the garden without ever destroying it. Spain is pretty grateful to of found him as it had gotten quiet with Romano gone and all. And Vivo defiantly brought some noise to the house! He's not always vocal but when he is he tends to run around happily meowing for attention. He's surprisingly very territorial however— when introduced with then young kits Gino and Sonno, the Italies' cats, Vivo almost attacked them. It took small steps forward to get the three of them to warm up to each other. It also took a while to warm Vivo up to Minou and Gunther.

[gryfon-spanish-werewolf]

Uuh dunno if you would like this prompt : Anna and Elsa as a mythical creatures.

Would love too see what you will write them as ^^

@like-redhead-probably I sat thinking about this ask for a long time, because while I IMMEDIATELY thought of one for Elsa, Anna’s absolutely eluded me. And I know you were probably looking for a story, but I am unable to stop myself from first EXPLAINING my choices xD

I was already thinking about the myth of the Hulder (or huldra if we’re speaking of the creature in general instead of the specific Norwegian myth) for other story-related reasons, and as I did more research, I felt like the Hulder REALLY shared similarities with Elsa.

Generally speaking the huldra is a Scandinavian myth of a pale skinned, blonde or brown haired, attractive young woman who lives in the wilderness, often luring men away with song or dance to be killed or misled, stuck wandering forever. Sometimes she’s connected strongly to water, and instead of making men lost, she drowns them. Sometimes she is described as similar to an elf or fey-like creature, with characteristics related to other Huldufolk (we’ll get to them later) such as living in a parallel world, or a world Underground, and therefore preferring caves or appearing and disappearing suddenly. Sometimes she is depicted as having a hollow back, or a cow’s tail, which she hides out of embarrassment or to conceal her true identity. Which… how cute is that?

Before the 11th century, the myths were focussed more around the Huldufolk, which literally means “Hidden Folk”. There are lots of stories as to why and how the Huldufolk came to exist, but for the purpose of Elsa I think it most appropriate to look at the Christianization of the myths. Why?:

Frozen and Frozen 2 are modern movies made by an American company and Christianity is nigh untanglable with American culture, they take place in ~1840s Norway, F1 has a dedicated place of Christian congregation depicted in said movie, an official royal crowning overseen by a Christian faith leader, and the adaptation of Frozen generally comes from author Hans Christian Anderson and therefore should take his life and society into account, etc.

The Christianized myth says that one day Eve was washing her children (presumably after Cain, Abel, and Seth) in the river, when she heard God approaching. Ashamed that He would see her kids unclean, she hid the half she wasn’t done bathing, and when God asked, “Where are the other children?” Eve claimed that she had all of them present, indicating the clean ones. This gave God pause, but in the end He said, “Then let all that is Hidden, remain Hidden.” The children that Eve lied about became the Huldufolk, unable to live among humans. These people would eventually become characterized as dwarves, elves, fairies, etc., as time and interpretations rolled on, the huldra being just one of many mythical “species”.

So. Who is Elsa? She’s a:

fictional, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, fair-skinned young woman who led thousands of men wlw to wander helplessly into the dark caves and wildlands of social media with a power ballad and a jaw-dropping transformation sequence

Okay I’m joking… mostly…

In fact my interest in choosing the Hulder for Elsa lies purely outside of any romantic or sexual appeal, especially since Elsa as a character exhibits next to 0 romantic or sexual interest across two whole movies and an additional two shorts. Indeed, there’s a reason people headcanon her as either asexual, aromantic, or both! No, the reasons I chose the Hulder are:

Elsa’s name

Her upbringing

Her duty as queen, and

Her general behavior, specifically in regards to Frozen 1, as Frozen 2 Elsa is, at times, an almost completely different character

Elsa’s name was chosen very specifically by the filmmakers because it means “God is my Oath”. Oaths are binding, heavy, and invoke the maker’s or subject’s actions and personhood in the future. In Elsa’s case specifically, it invokes divine witness: perfect for a queen, someone born to rule. A promise to be fair, to uphold, to protect, to lead, to be a dignified and honorable face for the country. And Elsa was so ready to be that… except for the powers of course. Or at least, when they became something other than a magical gift of wonder and joy. When they became dangerous. Then there comes another oath, spoken to powerful creatures of magic, the Trolls, and born from parental fear: “She can learn to control it.”

Binding, heavy, invoking of Elsa’s future. As she grows, Elsa becomes closed off, quiet, hiding in her own home. She still takes her duties seriously, but now that she has been Other’d, taught to hide herself and her curse, she is just as much shadow as person. To young Anna, Elsa must have been almost ghostlike, disappearing right when Anna thought she’d cornered her, only to reappear sometime later down the hall, out of arm’s reach.

God promised Adam and Eve that their children would inherit the earth, even after leaving the Garden of Eden. Then suddenly that changed, due to Eve’s fear and shame of her unwashed children, and some would now inherit Underground, or somewhere else entirely. The lost children of Eve had become Other’d, needing to hide, disappear, and resort to inhuman tactics just to exist. Maybe they’re jealous, maybe they're just tricksters. But it’s not their fault. And it wasn’t Elsa’s either. Another reason they are similar.

Now, it’s not all doom and gloom for the Hulder, or for Elsa. While the Hulder is generally known for her more chaotic and negative attributes - just like our favorite snow queen, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. There are a few myths that say burning a charcoal fire -instead of a coal or gas one- is most pleasing to the Hulder, that she’ll even watch over it during the night, and wake the sleepers in case something happens. If a traveler leaves supplies behind with a note or offering for the Hulder, they will travel safely. In fact, some people leave caches for her, as though to cater to specific requests. Coming across the Hulder by chance can have a multitude of outcomes, but if an astute observer spots her cow tail and mentions it, she may become shy and run away. Don’t mention the empty back though, that’s almost certain death.

Basically my point is… trade out the word “traveler” for the name “Anna” and we can draw all the similarities we want. Anna did all of those things, in a way. Anna gave Elsa a little gift of their favorite snowman every Christmas. Anna knocked on Elsa’s door and spoke to her, treated her kindly despite the distance between them, literal and metaphorical. It’s not hard to imagine that Anna left little notes around the castle, hoping Elsa would find them, read them, and know that Anna still loved her, still missed her. And, well, hopefully Anna wasn’t setting any fires and falling asleep next to them - but Anna always kept a light on for Elsa, in her heart. And it flickered and wavered sometimes, but it was a strong fire most days. And we know Elsa was always drawn to it, drawn to Anna because she loved her right back. Loved her first, even. And because it was a warmth that pleased Elsa, she tended it, quietly, carefully, warmly. Like putting a blanket over an Anna that had fallen asleep in the painting room, refusing that slice of chocolate cake so Anna could have two desserts, and listening, for hours and hours, days and days, for the sound of Anna’s glorious bonfire-like soul outside her bedroom door. Even when her secret was revealed, Elsa believed that the best way to protect Anna’s life, her flame, was to distance herself, running to a secret, special place all her own - much like the Hulder might run away back to the Underground.

And this last part’s just me, but I’d like to think that if the Hulder was treated kindly, respected, and given dignity, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if someone came across her accidentally. That instead of being instantly drowned, or the Hulder becoming sheepish and attempting to run, it would feel recognized. It could be called by name. And instead of feeling the need to hide it’s Otherness, it could be treated as part of it, and cared for just the same. I don’t even need to be subtle here: Anna called Elsa by Name, really saw her, and reframed her darkness into light. Anna hasn’t fought God yet, but she did walk through hell and back for a sister that everyone else saw as a threat, monster, and sorcerer. A category 9 Other. Too bad for them, Anna’s got a Category 10 heart.

Speaking of. We finally got to Anna.

Anna was difficult to pin down because to me, Anna is so very, very human. That’s what makes her special! Yes, yes, you could throw any mythical creature at Anna and the fun part would be trying to make it work within her personality and characterization BUT since the question was Anna AS a mythical creature, that changes the game! The word ‘creature’ itself tends to conjure something distinctly INhuman. So I…. tried, and cheated maybe a little. Because I picked for Anna the Norse Valkyrie.

Most people know what Valkyries are so this one takes significantly less explaining. Valkyries are women that are warriors, shieldmaidens, and the hands of Odin, and they choose who lives and who dies during battle. Their chosen dead ride with them to Valhalla, while those they choose to live are usually granted honors in life. There are the darker sides of Valkyries that paint them as blood hungry maidens waiting on the sidelines before a war, singing the names of who will die with glee… but generally speaking the version of Valkyries that most people know and admire today are accurate! And thank goodness because attempting to depict Anna the other way would probably give me an ulcer.

Anna, much like the Valkyries, is a woman of valor and strength, who is perceptive, guides others, sees into people’s hearts and reveals their goodness. Valkyries are also warriors of prowess themselves, and Anna in Frozen 2 with that ice sword? We all know she was ready to use that for real. She also exemplifies traits that Valkyries both look for and have! Bravery in the face of danger: hello Marshmallow, Elsa’s own blizzard, Hans’ lethal sword strike, LIVING MOUNTAINS, and a damn collapsing.... dam. She also defends those who cannot do it themselves: saying publicly that, “My sister is not a monster… she was scared, she didn’t mean any of this,” even if that cast suspicion or doubt on herself, and the crown, as a whole. Anna knew and believed in Elsa, despite all the years and heartbreak and anger. Despite the impossible magic that literally just happened before her very eyes. Belief in character, despite appearances. And once they were reunited, Anna made every effort to stay by Elsa’s side because she STILL had that faith in her. Anna’s name means “Grace” or “of Grace”, and damn if she didn’t extend that to the person others found most unworthy, even to Elsa herself. Valkyries see what others don’t, and their decisions are final.

[Deep breath] SO! You asked for Anna and Elsa as mythical creatures. You got… a small academic paper, by social media standards xD. I intend to write a little piece about a Valkyrie who encounters the Hulder on the edges of a battlefield and… realizes she never made a choice about this particular woman. And wonders why she can’t ;). BUT I didn’t wanna leave you hanging any longer. Hope you like my choices!

Oh also, nobody asked, but Kristoff is a werebear. No research required

[simp-for-spencer-reid]

Flavor shot: Holiday Blend- Blue Christmas: Part 1

Series Masterlist

“See you in like a week?” Cate wasn’t sure if she was comforting Spencer or herself with her words. Despite only being a week and a half ago, it had felt like months since they had admitted their love for one another. The two had spent every night leading up to this morning with each other. Alternating between Spencer’s apartment and Cate’s to make sure Shrimp didn’t get too lonely on his own, though he did prefer the quietness of an empty apartment. 

“Yeah, I’ll uh…” Spencer gestured to his gate at the airport. He had begun to walk towards it but turned on his heel back towards Cate. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go back to New Hampshire with you?” 

“Go see your mom for the holidays!” Cate gently pushed his shoulders. “We’ll be fine! I think we can stand to spend a few days apart.” she laughed as Spencer drew her in for one last hug. At least, that’s what they had said the last few hugs. With a final quick peck on the lips, Cate stepped backward, extending a hand, barely gripping Spencer’s fingers. “Tell her I said hi and that I wish her a Merry Christmas.” Cate smiled as she finally dropped Spencer’s hand. 

Their plans for the holidays were to celebrate with their respective families: Spencer was flying home to Vegas and Cate was going home to New Hampshire to see her family and she would drive back to Quantico with her car so she could have it back in DC. 

Cate’s own flight was booked for the next day. She was all packed for her 3 day trip back to her roots. Marta would be checking on Shrimp, feeding him and making sure he was all set while Cate was gone. Marta was also going to be Cate’s ride to the airport. 

Her flight was scheduled for noon, which would put her in New Hampshire around 2:30. And that’s where she stood right now. Standing with her carry-on and her tote bag, she looked for her dad’s pick-up truck in the terminal. Instead of a truck, she was surprised to see her older sister’s silver SUV. 

“Beth!” Cate’s face broke into a huge grin as she ran to give her sister a hug. The girls embraced each other tightly.

“It has been too long!” Beth pulled back and gave a stern look to her younger sister. “You need to call more.” Cate shrugged, her face flushing.

“I know..” Beth helped Cate put her bags into the trunk of the vehicle and they scuffled into the warmth of the car. Traffic from the airport to their home was brutal. Of course, that’s only typical due to the holidays. But, it gave the girls plenty of time to catch up.

“So, how’s the big city treating you? Still working with Marta?” Beth asked, giving a quick glance to Cate from the driver’s seat. 

“Yeah, it’s great there. It’s busy and it seems like everyday there’s something new.” Cate laughed. “I got a cat, too. A little orange one, his name’s Shrimp.” At the stop light, Cate showed Beth a picture of Shrimp on the couch, nestled in between two pairs of legs. Beth grabbed the phone, and zoomed into the hand that was mid-pet on Shrimp’s back.

“And who is that? Are you holding out on me, sis? You have a man and you didn’t think to say anything?” the light turned green. Beth shoved the phone back at Cate and continued driving. Cate blushed, turning to look out the window at familiar scenery.

“I did meet someone. His name’s Spencer.” Cate thought of Spencer, playing fond memories in her head.

“Am I gonna have to twist your arm to get more information?” Beth laughed, lightly punching Cate’s arm. “How long has this been going on?” 

“Officially?” Cate thought back. “A few months.” 

“So there’s some unofficial business in there? Let me guess, a one night stand and then friends with benefits but you caught feelings for each other?” 

“No!” Cate laughed. “Not like that at all… We were just friends for a while.” Beth gave Cate a pointed look to dish more details. “We’ve known each other for a year! You do the math!” Cate swatted Beth.

“Watch it! I’m the driver! Don’t you want to live long enough to see *Spencer* again?” Beth teased. The girls opted to sing along to the radio for the remainder of the ride. Beth asked a few more questions about Marta and Cate’s apartment back in DC, which passed the time quickly. 

Beth’s SUV pulled down the long driveway up to their parents’ house. Snow covered the ground and glistened in the afternoon sun. Cate grabbed her bags from the trunk, and followed Beth up the walkway to their backdoor. When the door swung open, Cate was met with the smell of vanilla and the warmth of the inside. Kicking the snow off her boots, she entered the house- filled with the sounds of laughter. Immediately, she saw her younger brother playing with their niece and nephew, Stella and Finn, but she was really looking forward to seeing her mom. Cate’s mom was found in the kitchen, baking sheets filled with cookies and dough waiting to go in. Once spotted by her mother, Cate opened her arms, which were still carrying her bags. 

“Hi, Mom.” Cate’s mother bounded over, slinging a dish towel over her shoulder. Cate wrapped her arms around her mom, tucking her head over her mom’s other shoulder. “I’ve missed you.” Cate closed her eyes and she felt like she was a kid again, back in her hometown and living with her parents. Her house still smelled the same. 

“Catherine.” Her mom said gently. She still looked the same to Cate: same pale skin, just a bit more wrinkled at the corners of her eyes, same dark brown hair, but with some grays starting to peek through. Her mother held her out at an arm’s length. “You look too thin, have a cookie.” Cate took a cookie from her mom with a smile. As she bit into it, Beth waltzed into the kitchen too. With an announcement.

“Cate has a boyfriend!” Beth looked smugly to Cate, while their mom looked between the two of them, before settling her gaze on Cate- who was coughing after almost choking on her cookie.

“Beth!” Cate coughed out.

“Wha-? Since when? See, this is why you need to call more!” Cate’s mother was now in interrogation mode. And make no mistake, she would get all the answers she wanted. She sternly held a finger pointed to Cate. “Who is he? And where is he?” 

“I haven’t even put my bags down yet and you’re already on my case!” Cate tried to diffuse the attention on her. Leaving her mother sputtering about Cate’s love life and confronting Beth for all she knew, Cate escaped upstairs to her childhood bedroom. 

It was still painted the same color green. A sheet set of stars and constellations were on her mattress, with a black comforter dressing the bed. All of her old posters still littered the walls and some frameless photographs were taped about the walls in the empty spaces. A smile was brought to Cate’s face, thinking of all the memories this room held. Cate set her bags down on the bed, and slowly walked downstairs. The ambush was partially her own fault. She should’ve kept her mother updated in her life. Cate had no good explanation for not calling her mom. 

“Okay now what is this about a boyfriend?” Cate’s mother was back by the oven, her cream colored apron lightly stained from the years of use. Cate settled into a stool at the island. Beth had disappeared into the living room to watch Stella and Finn wrestle with her and Cate’s younger brother, Robby.

“You’d love him. His name is Spencer and he’s smart, kind, and he-” Cate cut herself off, “He has a good job.” She wasn’t sure if she was allowed to disclose that sort of information. Cate’s mom raised her eyebrows, interested. 

“He sounds wonderful. Is he spending time with his family this Christmas Eve?” 

“Yes, he’s in Vegas visiting his mom for a few days.” Cate informed her mom. She played with some flour that dusted the countertop. 

“Well, you’ll have to come home sometime so we can all meet him.” Her mother smiled, placing a hand on Cate’s. Cate smiled at her mother. “Now, round up your brother and father to go get our chinese food. Wouldn’t be a Bennett Family Christmas without it.” Chinese food had been a staple for their Christmas Eve since Cate was a little girl. One year, Cate’s mother decided to try and cook a Christmas ham paired with mashed potatoes, candied yams, and homemade cranberry sauce. Well, Cate cooked just about as well as her mother, so it’s safe to say that that year, the house was full of smoke on Christmas Eve. The only thing salvageable was the cranberry sauce. Since that year, They’d always stuck to just baking cookies for Santa and ordering chinese food. 

Cate slowly walked to the living room, taking her time to relish in her home. She noticed new pictures framed on the walls of her niece and nephew. There were a few new knick knacks on shelves and hallway tables. The couches in the living room had been rearranged and the old wooden television stand was gone and now the tv was mounted on the wall. 

Beth was perched in the middle of the love seat, a blanket with a christmas pattern draped over her legs. Robby was kneeling on the ground- one arm outstretched and holding Finn at bay from a tickle attack and Stella was on his back, his other hand tickling her feet while she giggled uncontrollably. Cate’s father was sitting on the corner of their large couch, trying to read on his tablet, but getting distracted watching his grandchildren and his son play.

“Robby, Mom wants you and Dad to go get the food now.” Cate couldn’t keep in a chuckle. 

“Nice to see you too, Catherine.” Robby said as he rose from the carpeted living room floor. Their dad looked up over his glasses at Cate.

“Hi, Dad.” Cate met him in the middle as he brought her in for a hug.

“My Catie Girl, how is the big city life?” He asked, parting from her. 

“Oh, you know, busy and nothing like home.” she shrugged. Cate smiled at him. He placed a hand on her shoulder before going to retrieve his coat and some boots to get their order of food. Her brother Robby followed. 

Cate knelt on the ground, opening her arms as her sister’s children each ran into an arm. Embracing them both, Cate expressed how much she missed them and how big they’ve gotten. 

“Auntie Cate, I lost a tooth!” Stella bared her teeth at Cate, displaying a gap where there should have been a bottom tooth.  

“I grew one!” Finn smiled largely, showing a new tooth growing bigger than the rest.

“Oh my goodness! You guys are getting too big!” Cate smiled at them. She pulled her phone from her back pocket, swiping to find a specific picture. “I got a cat! Maybe one weekend you can come visit with your mom and you can meet him in person.” Stella and Finn’s eyes lit looking at Shrimp.

“He looks so soft!” Stella cooed.

“I bet he catches all the mice!” Finn yelled. 

“If there were any mice in my apartment, I bet he would.” Cate laughed. 

It became tradition for the family to sit on the living room floor, gathered around the spread of takeout boxes on the coffee table as a classic christmas movie played on their television. This year, they had voted and Cate, Stella and Finn won with their pick of The Polar Express. 

It was dark outside and everyone had piled their plates with fried rice, crab rangoons, teriyaki chicken and beef filled egg rolls. They shared laughs and stories of the year’s happenings with each other, catching up and making jokes like old times. 

Once filled plates were now over halfway done, Stella and Finn were both slowly falling asleep on the loveseat with Beth sitting in between them. The Polar Express was still playing, Cate’s parents were nestled together on the couch. Robby was laying on his side, leaning against the loveseat. Cate had her back against the couch, a christmas blanket wrapped around her. The house was peaceful and cozy with the glow of the christmas tree and the flicker of the movie. 

A knock on the door disrupted the lull in the living room. Cate’s parents looked quizzically at each other, not expecting anyone. Beth placed a protective hand on each of her children. Cate was the first to stand up, walking to answer the door. She presumed it was a neighbor, coming to wish them a happy holiday, despite how odd that would be.

Cate opened the door to a shivering Spencer, holding a large leather suitcase. A scarf wrapped multiple times around his neck and face muffled his voice.

“What are you doing here?” Cate couldn’t believe her eyes, but was happy to see the tall, long haired man. She let him into the house, closing the door behind him. “How did you figure out where I lived?” He set down his suitcase and unwrapped his scarf.

“I might have asked Garcia to track your phone for me.” his voice seemed off, but Cate would ask him about it later when her parents and siblings weren’t peering into the foyer from the archway into the living room. Cate and Spencer acknowledged them after staring at each other for a moment.

“Spencer, these are my parents.” Cate gestured to her mother and father, who were walking into the foyer. 

“Bill.” Cate’s dad reached out a hand to Spencer. Spencer hesitated, but figured shaking hands would make a better first impression than a spiel about germs. Cate’s mother on the other hand, brought Spencer into a hug.

“I’m Jacqueline, but please, call me Jackie!” Cate’s mother was as short as Cate was compared to Spencer. He had to bend his back far forward in her embrace as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He felt comforted by her motherly mannerisms. 

“Please, come in and help yourself to some takeout! Cate, take his things to the guest room and Spencer, I hope you like chinese food!” Her parents shuffled back into the living room as quick as they had nosed their way to the front door. Cate softly took Spencer’s hand and gave him a smile before starting up the stairs. 

The guest room was two doors down from Cate’s room on the same side of the hallway. The only thing in between them was a bathroom. Spencer felt like he walked into a cabin; the walls were a tan color and the bedspread was a quilt. Cate sat on the bed and patted the bed beside her. Spencer placed his things down on the chair in the corner before joining her on the bed. 

“I’m sorry I just showed up. I know you were spending time with your family and I was supposed to be in Vegas but I just couldn’t be alone tonight.” Spencer spilled out. 

“It’s okay, you’re more than welcome to stay. I want you to stay.” She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles. “Is everything okay?” His eyes began to water, but no tears spilled out.

“I, um. My mom was having one of her bad days when I got down there. She didn’t-” his voice cracked. He closed his eyes so that he wouldn’t cry. Cate brought him in for a hug. She tried to say the right thing with her limited knowledge of the situation.

“You’re not alone, Spence. It’s hard, I’m sorry.” Cate moved her hand along his back. She fought back her own tears. Now wasn’t the time for her to cry. They held each other for a few moments and when Spencer felt confident that he wasn’t going to cry, Cate led him back down to the living room where he introduced himself to Cate’s brother and sister. He picked a bit at some of the chinese food, but he wasn’t in the mood to eat. Cate’s parents could tell something was up, but didn’t pry. 

After the movie finished, Robby and Beth carried Stella and Finn up the stairs to bed. Jackie and Bill had gone upstairs to bed as well. This left Cate and Spencer downstairs in the living room. Cate was cleaning up the coffee table and Spencer helped a bit. He was the first to break the silence.

“My mom has Schizophrenia and Alzheimer’s.” Spencer said as he placed some paper plates and empty takeout boxes in the trash. Cate tried not to look at him sympathetically, but she could only imagine how hard that must be.

“Spence, I’m sorry.” Cate paused in her cleaning of the kitchen counter. She made her way over to him, taking his hand in hers. “I’m here for you.” 

“She’s been fine for a while, when I write to her it’s easier because she knows it’s me, but when I was there earlier, she didn’t recognize me at first. Usually, the fog goes away after an hour, but even after I went back in the morning she didn’t know it was me. I just. I’m not ready for her to forget me yet.” His voice trailed off to only a whisper. Cate squeezed his hand.

“You’ll never be ready for that, Spencer. You’re doing the best you can for her and that’s what matters.” Cate tried to comfort him, but knew that there was nothing she could say that would make things better.

Once the rest of the cleaning was finished, Cate led Spencer up the stairs to his room again. She gave him a mini tour quietly as she whispered who was behind each closed door and where the bathrooms were if the one in between their room was occupied. She left Spencer in the guestroom to get changed and acclimated while she went back to her room to change into some sleep shorts and a bigger shirt. 

When she got back, Spencer was sitting in the bed with the side table lamp on. He had his glasses on while he read his comfort book- the same one his mother used to read to him growing up. Cate smiled and walked in, closing the door behind her. As she slipped under the covers, she knew her mother would kill her if she found out that Cate was in bed with her boyfriend under her roof, but that didn’t stop Cate from burrowing into Spencer’s side. He raised an arm to rest over her and he began to read aloud quietly. Before she knew it, Cate was sound asleep.

[stixxxy]

Merry Siegemas All! Day 12.

Sorry for posting so late, but I finally got home- thank you so much to @dualrainbow for allowing me to take part in Day 12 of this fun r6s writing event. :D

And apologies in advance incase there’s any grammar errors- I write and grammar check myself.

Fun Short Story; about 1.5k words.

Promt: Unexpectedly spending the holidays together

——

"You'd recon these people have at least some families for Christmas," James 'Smoke' Porter sighed, rubbing his hands together in trying to warm up to the cold Northern British atmosphere.

The north was never actively warm, which actively meant that late December would (as James would say) cause you to "Freeze your tits off", it got cold and dark quickly with wind and rain but alas no snow, snow was rare to see despite the country's cold atmosphere. It was a few days before Christmas as well; so instead of being home or in the base with friends- Porter, Mark 'Mute' Chandlar, Dominic ‘Bandit’ Brunsmeier, and Sébastien ‘Buck’ Côté had been sent to the Shetland isles in hope that they could work on developing a secret base so to speak just as a last resort. The place wasn't so bad- it was just extremely freezing but at least the town was quite nice. At the centre there were bright lights hanging from the olden wind beating buildings, a large festively decorated tree sat in the opening besides the shore. Moods were high throughout the few townsfolk they saw- 2 days before Christmas always brought either stress or glee, which you clearly could tell by how the people commuted.

"They're terrorists," Mute responded, "they hate happiness. Be thankful we're just sorting out a base."

Mark spoke in a tone that was almost as bitter as the northern air which prickled at James’ skin. ‘Even if the white masks didn’t kill us before we get to the base, the cold sure would have’ the Londoner thought. James didn’t get why they needed yet another base- they already had England and Greece, they were about to colonise an island in north Scotland next. Harry had insisted that the base was meant for training in ‘harsher environments’, and since Russia probably would say no to a military group that wasn’t theirs, the next best thing was Scotland.

“I still think we could have bribed Jordan to come,” The voice of the German operator piped up, as he and their Canadian coworker, Sébastian, jogged up the small hill with their kit.

Smoke turned his head towards the duo approaching, “And have him complaining nonstop?”

“Source of entertainment I call it.”

Buck looked at the three other operators, “what did I do wrong to be picked with you people?”

——

The trip was originally scheduled for the 4 operators to camp overnight, get a feel for the place and then decide whether it would make a decent enough area for training with harsher/colder environments. The harsher and colder had already been challenging before the group even reached their site- there was no denying that fact. Sébastian had been the only one who hadn’t complained yet, that was until a certain shorter than average Brit accidentally got his clothes wet.. which lead to Mark reluctantly lending Buck one of his hoodies. So the trip was going swell.

“If i give you £20 will you let me share your sleeping bag?”

“Piss off.”

After the request, James received an elbow to the his side- a smile growing oh his face but again they returned back to their quiet. Sounds of the ocean they sat lulled the silence, distant talking and cars came and went as the minutes went by.

“How’s lily?” For a change Mark initiated a conversation, putting his phone down on the grass besides him.

James let out a sigh, bringing a hand to go through his hair. He paused.

“I promised her this year I’d be with her for Christmas, like- the whole 2 weeks she gets off,” he started, turned to his hands which he was fiddling with his sleeves with. “I don’t know how Zofia can do it- do this and then be a mother. What kind of parent am I if I barely even see my kid?”

Silence once again filled the air, Mute leaned back- his arms supporting his body as he thought. He was never one for emotional conversations, he could ramble about computer science for hours but the second it gets touchy and feely- his brain shuts off. Mark turned to James who’s face was the opposite of how he usually was, a frown plastered on his lips and his normally bright eyes were tinted dimly.

“I’m sure she understands, it is your job after all. She’s 16; when I w-“

“-She’s not like you Mark,” James snapped, turning to face the younger, “You’re practically a child genius who has no manners socially, Lily’s... you know what the kid’s like.”

James nuzzled his chin into his scarf, in a way to both shut himself off and to try warm himself up before he started to cry and freeze his cheeks off. He never felt homesick, James loved his job, but he just hated that he couldn’t keep a promise.

“At least you’ll be with her for Christmas Day.”

The only response was a small breath and a nod.

——

Sharing a tent with 3 other men was not Sébastians initial plan for Christmas eve’s eve- likewise having to borrow one of the others’ clothes because his own got soaked by a prank. He knew he wouldn’t get to visit home this year but spending Christmas with his friends wasn’t so bad, Sébastian was just lucky he had managed to visit Canada for his birthday a few months prior.

“Fucking freezing out here,” the words of Dominic alerted Séb from his book, a hint of tiredness in his voice.

“It’s not too cold,” Buck smiled, moving in his seat besides the small campfire.

The German scoffed, “because you have a hoodie which is too big, a beanie and gloves. My gloves to be exact.”

“You offered.”

Dominic pushed Sébastian’s beanie over Séb’s face as he walked by to sit on the seat besides his teammate. A small laugh coming from him while he watched the Canadian huff when he reorganised his beanie.

“Before I forget; Harry called- there’s a storm coming to welcome us a merry Christmas,” Séb knew where this was going. Bandit dipped his head and then leaned back, “he thinks we’re going to be stuck here for a few days longer than expected.”

“Typical.”

Dominic kicked his legs up onto the stand besides the fire, “he did say we could stay at a friend of his rather than risk being killed by the high winds of Scotland.”

“How thoughtful.”

It wasn’t long until Mark and James returned, the news hit James hard; being in the middle of nowhere for Christmas was never ideal- at least they weren’t alone in the middle of nowhere.

James sighed, sitting up in his sleeping bag- the wind was already starting to pick up and the rain was battering the tens thin material. Silent breathing from the sleeping people continued, unfazed by the storm brewing. Smoke lay back down, staring at the green above him. Butterflies fluttered around in his stomach- anxiety from both Christmas being the next day and the fact he couldn’t keep a single promise towards his daughter. If only it wasn’t raining he could at least walk the nerves off.

—

“For professionals you all like to sleep in.”

A Scottish man let out a laugh, watching the four Rainbow operators crawl out of the tent in dampened clothes as the tent got ripped after something bumped into it due to the high winds the previous night.

“You try sleeping in a leaking tent,” The pleasant morning voice of Mute spoke, “then we can talk about ‘sleep in’.”

A hearty laugh came from the man, “well if it means anything, I’m sorry about your situation.”

Sébastian stepped up, apologising for the other three’s attitude- making some small chat to the Scottsman who was called Duncan.

—

“Hey Lilypad,” James stood in the hallway- looking around at the tinsel wrapped around the staircase, “so plans changed, I’m sorry.”

“You promised dad-“

“I know.. I know- there’s a storm and the boats been cancelled-“

Dominic appeared from the doorway, “Porter?”

“I’m coming,” James mouthed then turned to the phone,” I’ll hopefully be back for Boxing Day- we can get Gramps and everyone over. I’ll, I’ll make it up to you Lils.”

“It’s... Sorry’s not good enough okay?”

Before he could even mutter another ‘sorry’, the line went dead.

James sat on the staircase, letting his head fall into his hands. It was the one thing he and Lily had been looking forward too, 2 weeks together for Christmas and having the family over; god how he missed his own parents. A person slid down to sit a stair above, resting a comforting hand on James’ shoulder.

“Coming from someone who’s been through the same thing as Lily, she knows it’s not your fault,” the Quebec man let out a small laugh, “of course she’s hurt, but you’re her dad; she loves you and as long as you both have each other- she’ll forgive you. Just let her process.”

James nodded, inhaling a shaky breath. He patted the hand on his shoulder and stood up.

“Let’s make this a good Christmas from what we have,” he turned to Séb who promptly followed him down.

“You gehirnverweigerer! Just tell me what the fucking thing is! The zucker! STOP LAUGHING JUST TELL ME WHAT IT IS!” The voice of a very angry Dominic came from the kitchen.

Buck smiled and wrapped an arm around the English man, “Merry Christmas James.”

“Merry Christmas to you too.”

[jenniferdiazisatransgirl]

My Journey

Hey everyone, As you will likely know by now I am a trans woman and I live in the UK where lately trans people have been under significant scrutiny by the press, government and groups claiming to be acting in the name of feminism.

One of the arguments used when not directly attacking trans people, is that the medical institutions that help us in the UK fast track us through transition, even the NHS and I know so many trans people in this country that I can say without a shadow of a doubt this is not true. This includes a significant number who have been under the care of Tavistock and Portman, the under 18s service which was recently banned from giving its patients hormone blockers without the approval of the courts.

But anyway, I’m gonna share my story and how lengthy the process actually is and I will warn ahead of time this deals with suicidal ideation, gatekeeping, mental health, etc. So proceed with caution. This will also be a long post.

September/October 2008

I can’t remember which month but it was just before my 16th birthday, my Dad encouraged me to go to my GP regarding my gender dysphoria. I lived with my transphobic Mum at the time and had to go behind her back which was terrifying to say the least. I saw a doctor called Dr Moulsher and explained everything I was going through and his response was, “I don’t think the NHS funds any of this.” He was very ignorant on trans issues but it actually fortunately worked out in my favour, I got lucky, I know, but he just wanted me off of his hands.

I explained in Sheffield there was a GIC (gender identity clinic) operated by the NHS known as Porterbrook and he was just like, “Oh right. Well I’m more than happy to refer you but they likely won’t see you till you are 18.”

He asked me some questions, wrote up a detailed report and put in the referral to “get the ball rolling” as he worded it.

I was terrified at the time of the referral letter going to my home address though and he was like, “Well it needs to be sent somewhere.” So he agreed to send it to my grandparents address.

Later That Year

About a month or so later a letter arrived at my grandparents saying I had been accepted onto Porterbrook’s waiting list, explaining it is substantially long, that they wouldn’t be able to see me till I’m 18, etc. Your typical boiler plate stuff. Also as I understand it they don’t typical accept referrals for under 18s so I got lucky there. I remember getting so excited when I got my letter though, that I took it into school to show all of my friends.

Back then it was a requirement that I have a mental health assessment while on the waiting list though. So I returned to Dr Moulsher who I had become rather comfortable with and had made him my regular GP. He made a referral to the local mental health clinic and that was that.

January/February 2009

A letter came in the post asking me to ring to book at appointment at the local mental health clinic. I couldn’t ring from home cos my Mum would overhear and she was spying on me a lot at the time due to really being against the fact I’m trans. My school - which was a Catholic school shockingly enough - had already decided my home environment had become so toxic that I needed removing from my Mum’s care. They would be a process that wouldn’t be completed till June 2010 but yeah, it had got that bad. Anyway, I ended up asking the school receptionist if I could ring on their phone to book the appointment. That was booked for February.

The appointment was a weird one to say the least. The doctor asked me a quite a lot of questions but these are the ones that stuck out.

So with this first one, I am going to preface with that as far as I am aware, I am white and of white ancestry for all the generations I know of. However I do have remarkably curly hair that left to its own devices grows into an afro (or at least what looks like an afro). So the first set of questions that stood out; Dr: What’s your mother’s ethnicity? Me: White British.

Dr: Sorry, did you say Afro-Caribbean? Me: No. White British. Dr: And your father’s ethnicity? Me: White British. Dr: Sorry, was that Afro-Caribbean?

Me: Nope. White British.

Not really sure how you can get Afro-Caribbean and White British verbally mixed up but he seemed very adamant at least one of my parents must be Afro-Caribbean.

He then later goes;

Dr: Do you have a partner?

Me: Yes.

Dr: Are they male or female?

Me: I have a girlfriend.

Dr: Then you can’t be trans. You can’t be trans if you like girls.

Me: What about lesbians?

Dr: That’s beside the point.

Shockingly, in the end he agreed with my GP’s assessment that I am trans but Jesus, as you can probably guess from above that mental health assessment was a minefield of weird.

24th October 2010

In June 2010, I was finally removed from my Mum’s care at the age of 17 and placed in supported housing and on the date about I got a phone call from Porterbrook GIC on my 18th birthday no less, inviting me to my first appointment in November.

22nd June 2012

I legally changed my name and title by deed poll to Miss Lily Nichole Robinson.

22nd October 2012

I’d now been at Porterbrook for almost 2 years, had lots of appointments, most of which repeated the same mundane questions and it had started to feel like nothing was ever going to change. I had become increasingly depressed and suicidal and I had decided that if nothing had changed by my 20th birthday I was going to take my own life. I did not want to enter my 20s still living my life as a man. I didn’t want to lose another year of my life.

I remember this date exactly, not because I marked it in my calendar but because Taylor Swift’s album “Red” came out that morning. Despite everything, I was dancing along to 22 that morning while ironing some clothes, before I headed off to Porterbrook. I didn’t really feel like it mattered, I was going to kill myself 2 days later but I figured what is the harm in going through the motions one last time.

I sat there, trying not to let on how miserable I was, didn’t see the point in letting them in on how I was feeling. Nothing would change.

I remember being asked some really gross questions that day though. I got asked if I masturbated and I just declined answering. When challenged I was just like, “I maybe trans and I may hate that equipment but I’m a human being. I still have sexual urges. What do you think the answer is.”

The appointment though, shockingly ended with them telling me they were going to put me on hormones. I was gonna get my estrogen. It was enough to give me a reason to keep on living.

But just bare in mind how close I got to taking my own life there. 2 days away from my 20th birthday. Also it took almost 2 years for them to say they’d be placing me on hormones.

January/February 2013

In January, I had my bloods taken to get a baseline and I was told about options for storing gametes. I did decide to consider this but in the end it ended up being too costly for me at the time. So in February, on a day it was snowing I got the train and was adamant the snow was not stopping me getting to Porterbrook and I had an appointment with the head clinician, Dr Kevin Wylie.

He oddly listed all the testosterone blocker options to me with side effects and risks and all the estradiol options to me with side effects and risks. In the end I chose Cyproterone Acetate for my blocker and Estradiol Valerate pills for my hormones.

50mg per day of Cyproterone Acetate and 2mg per day of Estradiol Valerate. I was ecstatic and took them both the second I got on the bus 😊

May 2013

Slightly unrelated to the medical process but just 3 months in and my mental health had improved drastically. Since I was removed from my Mum’s care I had become a bit of a shut in. I didn’t have any friends, my anxiety was through the roof, I was insanely depressed and I just avoided everything and everyone, only leaving my house for work. Hormones changed that though, I just felt so much happier and I also remember that Spring just being like really vividly aware of the colours of all the flowers and plant life for like the first time in my life. I actually wanted to go out and social and make friends and there was a local LGBT youth group for 18-25 year olds that I decided to join and I started to have and social life again. And by September 2013 I started university and soon came getting drunk with the LGBT Liberation Group at the various socials. I was happy and finally starting to feel like myself.

2013 - 2016

Porterbrook became very gatekeepy in the final stage of my transition. They didn’t like how I dressed. Apparently girls wear dresses while I preferred jeans, t-shirts and hoodies. I didn’t like wearing make-up. I wasn’t the 1950s image of a girl that Porterbrook seemed to expect. I actually have a trans guy friend who around the same time had been told he couldn’t start on testosterone unless he cut his hair short, cos apparently men don’t have long hair.

It pissed me off to no end because I transitioned to be me, not to be a performance of how the world thinks a woman should be. I refused to give ground on how I dressed, etc but in the end I ended up telling a few white lies to get past the final level of gatekeeping. And I can’t remember most of this dates as they happened while uni was going on in the background. But eventually Porterbrook gave me the go ahead for surgery, about 6 months later I had my second opinion and then I was referred for surgery.

January 2016

I had my pre-surgery assessment at Nuffield Health Brighton and I was told if I wanted I could have my surgery as early as March 2016. Due to university though, this proved a bit too soon and the date was pushed to June 2016.

22nd June 2016

The day before the EU Referendum I had my gender reassignment surgery. I don’t actually remember feeling all that ecstatic after the surgery. There was lot of pain and I was on a lot of drugs. But a friend, Rosie, who I hadn’t seen since high school lived in the area and she was at my bedside when I woke up. I was in hospital a week and had 3 months of recovery ahead of me.

Post Surgery 2016

Having surgery had been great, things finally felt right. My entire body felt right for once but I had tunnel visioned my life towards surgery and put a lot of stuff on the back burner and had some major post-surgery depression so I sort counselling at my university to get through these issues and once that was sorted I felt a lot more stable in myself and like nothing was in my way.

October 2016

I put in my application for my Gender Recognition Certificate only for it to get rejected because they did not like the assessment from Porterbrook GIC and Dr Wylie who wrote the assessments was off on leave. Me and a nurse had to sit down and look through my medical record to find a medical report they might accept and we finally found one. However they wouldn’t say what was wrong with the original which made Porterbrook kinda stumped on what was wrong.

February 2017

I received my Gender Recognition Certificate and my new Birth Certificate.

March 2017

I was discharged from Porterbrook GIC.

For those who are under the impression gender reassignment is a fast process it isn’t, it took me 8 years and 6 months start to finish, from initially seeing my GP at 15 to finally being discharged from Porterbrook GIC at the age of 24. It is a long ass process with a shit tone of gatekeeping and honestly going through the process as it stands isn’t something I’d wish on my worst enemy. When I was discharged from Porterbrook GIC in 2017 my first thought was, “I’m free. I’m finally in control of my own life.” As up until that point, I felt I had no autonomy and that my life and happiness was in the hands of doctors. It was miserable.

But there it is.

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Comfortember Day 4: Aerophobia

Summary: Written for Comfortember Day 4. Set after Httyd 2. Hiccup never thought he would ever be afraid to fly. Today, that is a fear he has to conquer.

Rating: General

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless, Astrid, Snotlout, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, Tuffnut

Pairing: Hiccstrid

Words: 2 029

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “Anxiety”

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: This was an interesting one to work on, mainly because you wouldn't expect Hiccup, of all people, to ever be afraid of flying.

Constructive criticism is appreciated!

Enjoy!

Ao3

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

Hiccup has to take a deep, deep breath to calm his racing heart. The saddle creaking beneath him, the feeling of the handles in his hands, his dragon's powerful muscles moving, and the deep guttural sounds in his throat. He never thought any of these things would ever make him feel as nervous as they do now, but here he is.

"Are you okay, Hiccup? You know this can wait, right?" Hiccup looks towards Astrid as she sits on top of her own dragon when she talks to him. She and Stormfly are waiting for him and Toothless to take off.

Toothless gazes at his Rider from over his shoulder, crooning questioningly.

"I'm okay, I'm... I'm about as ready as I'll ever be." Hiccup tells the two of them and Stormfly, too, as her eye nearest to him focuses on him. She has quite bird-like behavior.

"Are you sure? Because you haven't flown in a long time. This is your first time since... Well..." Fishlegs asks as he worries. Not that Hiccup hasn't proven himself as the most veteran dragon rider, but it has been a while. And not only that, but it's what preceded the long period of no flying that plays a factor in Fishlegs' worrying, too.

Hiccup had a crash.

And while Hiccup isn't unfamiliar with crashing, that one had been particularly hard on him. A rogue dragon had ripped him and Toothless from the sky. A fall from that height should've killed him, but it hadn't. What it had was broken damn near every single bone in his body, his back included.

He still remembers waking up in the snow, his friends nowhere to be seen, Toothless nowhere to be seen. In pain and unable to move, he waited for hours in the cold until he was finally found.

By the time they did, night had fallen. And by the time they brought him home, there was some frostbite to treat due to the unbearably freezing temperatures. He hadn't been able to breathe properly either due to his ribs, which had gotten him sick on top of being terribly injured.

It had taken him a long, long time to recover from his injuries and still the hours of lying there, in pain and uncertain, haunt him. At some point early on, they even feared he would never walk again. His recovery has been nothing short of a miracle.

Today will be the first time he takes back to the sky and he's been both looking forward to it as well as dreading it.

Instead of answering Fishlegs' question about whether he's sure or not, Hiccup simply smiles his way. No, he isn't as sure as he would like to be, but what better time to fly than the present?

This past week or so, he's been nervous. Or rather, he's been anxiously awaiting this day to come.

He's been having bad dreams about falling again and again, his years of experience notwithstanding. And even when he's awake, whenever he thinks of the mere act of flying, there's a painful pounding inside his chest, it becomes hard to breathe, and he sweats heavily out of nowhere.

Usually, they come in waves of ten minutes to a full half an hour. Today, it's been present since morning.

Sitting on top of Toothless' back, Hiccup looks up at the sky he once called his home, too. Toothless is still patiently waiting on him to decide when they can take off, he won't do it unless Hiccup wants him, too. If Hiccup ends up deciding that taking back to the sky isn't for today, he will respect that as well.

He, himself, is itching to go, though. He's been grounded for as long as Hiccup has, barely using the automatic tailfin Hiccup told him to use while he recovered, stuck in bed for at least the first few weeks.

But he understands Hiccup's reluctance. If he were a human who survived a fall like that, he would be a little reluctant, too.

Hiccup takes his eyes off the sky and looks at Astrid and Stormfly who stand next to him and Toothless. Then he looks behind them, at the other Dragon Riders. They're all waiting, ready to take off alongside him and complete their group once more.

Having them all here with him just to help him feel safer, it makes him feel better about this.

So Hiccup turns his attention back to the cliff they're all standing on, one outside of the village.

There is no time like the present.

"Come on, Bud." His anxiety is still choking the life out of him, but he forces those words off his tongue. Toothless sinks to the ground, wings prepare for take-off, and his strong legs push him off towards the sky. The air catches his wings and they're off.

"Yeah, woo!" Snotlout can be heard behind him, his voice quickly cut off because of the wind in his ears.

Hiccup doesn't look behind him, instead focusing on keeping a tight grip on the handle and the quickly approaching clouds high above;

Toothless isn't planning on getting too high, just high enough that his Rider gets to feel that he's definitely back in the air again.

Once they reach the desired height, Toothless levels out and Hiccup allows himself to breathe. His heart is pounding in his throat, blood rushing to his ears, they're all things he hasn't felt since the first time he and Toothless flew together.

"Okay, we're up in the air." Hiccup wants to pet his Bud, but doesn't dare let go of the saddle.

"You doing okay?" Astrid asks as Stormfly levels off next to them. The other Dragon Riders are right behind them.

"Yeah! I mean, I definitely feel like my heart might actually give out on me, but yeah, I feel great!" Hiccup replies, his nervousness oozing out of every spoken word. Astrid smiles at him, seeing the stiff and not at all relaxed pose as he holds onto the handles of his saddle with a death grip.

"Just remember what you told us during our first lessons!" Barf and Belch come flying overhead, rolling through the sky. It's Tuffnut who talks to him.

"Just relax and let the dragon and the wind guide you!" Ruffnut reminds him, thoroughly enjoying the freezing winds of Berk for emphasis.

Hiccup chuckles breathily and watches them disappear from sight.

But she's right. He just needs to relax and then maybe this constricting sensation inside his chest will ease up on him. Maybe.

Toothless has a slightly more direct approach.

He roars and that's about the only warning Hiccup gets before he climbs higher with a plan in mind. That one warning is enough for his Rider, who's grip on the saddle grows with apprehension.

"Uh, what's Toothless doing?" Snotlout asks as the Night Fury leaves them all behind.

"Hopefully something that won't massively backfire," Astrid says with the beginnings of a scowl. She trusts Toothless, but the deal was that they would take this slow to avoid stressing Hiccup out as he transitions back from a life on the ground to one in the air.

His fear of experiencing another fall like the one that had grounded him for months was palpable to them all the past week.

Though he'd promised himself not to look down on his first flight, Hiccup looks back at his friends as they become smaller and smaller until they are mere dots in the distance.

"Are you sure about this, Bud? Toothless?" Hiccup has to shout in order to be heard and his dragon roars back affirmingly. To him, this is the best possible plan.

Hiccup can feel that his heart is ready to burst out of his chest and can't look at the height anymore, instead choosing to stare at his saddle, which he lies flat against to reduce the drag.

He closes his eyes, consciously breathing in and out to keep himself calm as he feels Toothless take him higher and higher. He can feel the rapid change in pressure.

And then he stops and Hiccup has felt the familiar feeling of passing through a cloud, his hair and face now coated in a thin layer of water droplets.

Toothless croons loudly and Hiccup opens his eyes, finding the two of them above the clouds stained with orange and yellow from the setting sun.

Hiccup holds his breath, but not because he's anxious. The breathtaking beauty of the sky has enraptured him once again and he realizes how much he has missed these views.

"And now down, Bud?" Hiccup asks with a tone that sounds a little more filled with hope than dread.

Upon hearing this, Toothless, filled with determination to correct a wrong, turns his nose down and dives. Wings folding, body straight, he dives as fast as he can and Hiccup is merely there for the ride.

Though his chest is ready to burst open from the pressure inside, Hiccup can't say it's from fear or the anxiety that's kept him hostage for the past week.

They break through the cloud barrier and the vast ocean comes closer and closer. Night Furies are fast and that means the grey body of water is coming even faster than with any other species of dragons.

Still, despite the speed and his fear, Hiccup lets go of the saddle with one hand and lets the wind guide him, exactly like Ruffnut told him to.

A rush is pumped through his veins, elevating him to a high nothing else can. Before long, a cautious grin presents itself on Hiccup's face in preparation for what's to come.

Once they get close enough to the ocean, Toothless begins to roll and roll, forcing Hiccup to flatten himself against the saddle or risk being thrown off by the sheer force of the wind.

Toothless unfolds his wings and brings them higher again, giving Hiccup a slight break before he makes a loop. The blood rushing to the human's head as he's thrown and dragged along. It's rough, it's wild, and it's soaring Hiccup's heart higher and higher into the sky.

Toothless isn't going easy on him and that he can hold on and predict every next move is a testament to Hiccup's skill as the most experienced of the Riders.

"WHOO, YEAH!" His voice rings out loud in the sky, reaching the Dragon Riders who they'd left behind as Toothless takes his human on a precarious mission to restore his love for the sky.

They watch and see Toothless' direct approach pay off, happy to hear those cheers of joy.

After taking his Rider on a wild ride, Toothless levels out again, panting from the exertion. Hiccup lets go of the handles to straighten in his seat, hands on his lap. He has to get the last of his rush out with laughter.

"Ah, that was great. I've missed this, Bud. I've missed us." Hiccup pets the Night Fury on the head, the affectionate gesture turning into a scratch behind his ear at the end.

Toothless rumbles happily, briefly shaking his body.

Hiccup smiles and gazes at their surroundings, at the ocean below, and the village in the distance. He can see people watching them from the edge.

"I guess we're not the only ones glad to see us back in the air again, hug, Bud?" He asks.

"No, you're definitely not," Astrid replies as Stormfly catches up. All the Dragon Riders do.

"That was quite a show, Haddock!" Ruffnut commends him.

"Yeah, really happy to have you back." Snotlout admits and Fishlegs and Tuffnut share this sentiment with him.

A grounded Hiccup just hasn't been the same as the Dragon Rider they all know and love. Now here he is again, the weight of his fear lifted by his love of the sky.

"You know, I don't think Berk expects me back for the next few hours. How about some tricks? A race?" Hiccup suggests and how can the Dragon Riders possibly refuse?

"Race!" The vote is unanimous and the decision has been made.

"A race it is!" Hiccup says and off they go.

[bangtan-madi]

Year of the Rabbit — Three: Hwajeon

Pairing — Jungkook x Reader, Hoseok x Yoongi, Taehyung x Jimin

Tags — best friend!Jungkook, non-idol au, flower shop au, gym au, florist!MC, gym owner!Jungkook, brother!Namjoon, friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining

Genre — fluff

Word Count — 2.6k

Summary — Blame it on the storm or the secret feelings or the snow-in, but one thing is for sure: a lot can happen to two best friends when they're confined to their stores overnight. 

Warnings — language

Part — 3 / 7

A/N — I anticipate this series being 7 parts if it continues at the current pace, so it will most likely be 2 parts longer than I originally thought! :)

Previous — Next

The flower shop is one of many that line the historic street in Seoul. You're occupying one of several dozen that connect via old brick and mortar. They're all small and quaint, snuggled together in your favorite part of the city. Due to the closeness, you know your neighbors well. When facing the front of the shop, there's a supermarket on the left and a small department store on the left. Both make last-minute ideal when you're running behind on errands.

What you'd forgotten is that all the shops connect through shared attic space. It's not easy to access, but the space above each store provides useful space for storage. You've seen Yoongi tinkering with the heating units and plumbing from time to time. Jungkook pulls the panel down from the ceiling, and a retractable ladder folds out. You immediately get the impression that has also done this quite a few times before.

"I'd forgotten we even had that," you murmur. "W—Why are we going up there?"

Jungkook turns back to you with a smile. "I have a hunch. You wanna go first or me?"

Glancing up at the ladder rising into the dark and cold, you shake your head. "You first."

Your best friend laughs at your hesitation and props one foot onto the last tier of the ladder. With assured movements, he pulls himself up until he disappears into the pitch-black. 

A hand extends from above. "C'mon. Grab my hand." Though still unsure, you slip one hand out from under your cocoon of warmth and take hold. "That's it," Jungkook prides. "I got you."

Moments later, you're up in the attic space with him. His cellphone is in his other hand, and he uses it to light the way. Around you are large, clunky pieces of equipment and hundreds of feet of plumping and wires. Some good they're doing now, with the power shut off.

Jungkook taps his ear while looking at you, as if telling you to listen. "Do you hear that?"

You do as he gestures, focusing on a soft hum in the distance. "What is t—that?"

Motioning to the other side of the crowded opening, the brunet says, "Your next-door neighbor is a supermarket. When the power shut off, I'd bet you a hundred-million won that a separate, backup generator kicked in. A lot of supermarkets have them nowadays."

Hope returns to your eyes as you realize what he's saying. "What, really? So they should have power!"

"Maybe not full power, but definitely should be warmer than your place," Jungkook agrees. He tightens his hand around yours and nods to the other side of the attic, where a similar floor-door is. "Let's go find out."

Jungkook descends through the supermarket attic entrance. His steps are careful as he enters the neighboring shop. It's as dark as your shop, but the air is warmer. 

"Looks like it opens up in some sort of utility closet," he says, looking around as you scuttle down the ladder. 

"It's warmer, though." You land cautiously on your feet.

Your companion walks towards the door, and you follow behind. As he opens it, a huge grin appears on both of your faces.

Though not as illuminated as it normally is, the supermarket is covered in a dim glow. A few of the overhead lights are casting a yellow glow on the open space, and there are emergency, neon blue lights that line every walkway, shelf, doorway, and register. Add to that the white light coming from several freezers, the magenta hues from the bakery display section, the evergreen flickers from the neon signs on the windows, and the scarlet lights of the Lunar New Year decorations at every corner of the store: the entire place looks like a carnival or rainbow colors.

"This is one of those rare times I'm totally fine with you being right."

Jungkook snickers and enters the neon-glow of the supermarket. "Doesn't look like anyone's here either." He tries the front door, seeing it's locked from the outside. "Your neighbor must've closed up early for the Lunar New Year." 

"Can't blame him," you whisper. 

He turns to you with a wide, bunny-like grin and announces, "I promised you dinner, didn't I?"

"Are you serious? Wouldn't that be stealing?"

He gives a flippant wave of his hand. "I'll leave money and a tip for the trouble, don't worry. What's the alternative? We're in a supermarket. The power's out. We have no way to get home, and from the looks of it out there—." He gestures to the large windows that line the front of the store. The snow is only coming down heavier, measuring almost half a meter by now. "—we're going to be here at least for the night. So yeah, you're damn right I'm serious."

As if on cue, your stomach makes a gurgling growling sound. Jungkook cocks and eyebrow, and you offer a sheepish smile. "Maybe I am a little hungry. What're you in the mood to cook, Kook?"

"It's the Lunar New Year, and I'm not about to miss out on that. How does Tteokguk sound?" At your ecstatic nod, he skips over to you and tugs at the corners of your blanket hoodie. "Are you warm enough to go shopping with me?"

"Only if we make Hwajeon, too!"

"You and your sweets, I swear." 

"Promise?"

Jungkook places his hand over his heart, looking adorable despite his tone. "Cross my heart and hope to not burn down the supermarket."

You shrug. "Good enough for me. At least you're not my brother."

The brunet lets out a sound halfway between a groan and a sigh as he bounds away to retrieve a shopping cart from beyond the register. In his absence, you wander towards the baking section. At the end of the aisle, you spot exactly what you need. Edible flowers in all colors and varieties line the end-cap. You select several to your liking, admiring how they mirror the ones in your shop.

"Namjoon almost burnt down my gym," Jungkook says as he returns, finding you with half a dozen containers of edible flowers in your arms. "How do you even do that? There's nothing flammable!"

You place your findings in the cart, pulling the blanket tighter around you after you finish. "Hell if I know. Who can explain the god of destruction that is Kim Namjoon?"

"Where is he this year? Off exploring the world still?"

You nod, replying, "Yep. He's traveling with Seokjin still. Those two will be bachelors forever if they don't stop hopping from country to country, but they seem happiest with each other so..."

"You miss him?"

"Every day," you chuckle. "He's my brother. We fought like brats when we were younger, but he's pretty awesome now. Even if he did try to burn down your gym."

Your heart feels a little heavier at the thought of your brother. You were trying to not think about family over the Lunar New Year. With your parents still in Ilsan and your brother god knows where, you were alone in Seoul with only Elizabeth the 3rd and Jungkook to keep you company during constant work and school. Even your beloved co-workers were on vacation.

It's the first New Year you've spent by yourself. Well, mostly by yourself.

Seeing your mood shift and your eyes stare off, Jungkook walks up behind you and scoops you up into his arms. You let out a squeak of surprise but aren't able to make a response before he sets you down into the cart.

"You know the ingredients for Hwajeon?" he asks.

Shaking off those negative thoughts, you look at your best friend over your shoulder. Both of you are fully aware of what he's doing, but neither of you has a problem with it.

"Yep! Let's get flour while we're in baked goods. Then we'll need honey, salt, cinnamon powder, and sesame oil. You by chance know Tteokguk?"

Jungkook pushes the cart forward, allowing you to search the shelves from your seat in front of him. "You're lucky I helped my mom cook Tteokguk every New Year for almost fifteen years. It was my dish to make, so I have it memorized."

"Don't bore me, just steer me in the direction and tell me what to grab."

"You're awfully bossy," Jungkook murmurs.

Tossing a playful yet sharp glance at him, you turn towards the flour on the shelf. As you reach the glutinous rice variety, you ask, "What are Jimin and his boyfriend doing for the holiday, do you know?"

Jungkook gives a loud laugh as he pushes you along to the next item on your mental list. "Probably doing gross stuff on my sofa. Perks of living with your business partner and childhood friend are great. Jimin's awesome and he's always been like a brother to me. But holy shit, ever since he and Taehyung started dating, it's gotten awkward a few times. They have non-stop sex. Non. Stop. I hear it and..." He gives an involuntary shiver. "Let's just say I'd rather be stuck with you in a supermarket with only edible flowers to eat."

"Awww, how sweet. I'm honored."

"I'm serious!" he exclaims, eyes widening and hands moving with his words. "You call me the Gym Bunny, but they're the rabbits."

You turn and grab the salt that's to Jungkook's right, locking eyes with him in the process. "You jealous, Kookie?"

His throat moves as he swallows, something that doesn't slip past you. "Jealous? Why would I be jealous?"

You retreat back to your seat in the cart, placing the salt to your side. "Don't know. Just thought you might've wanted to spend the Lunar New Year with someone special."

"I am. I'm with you, aren't I?"

You lower your head and pull the heated blanket around so it hides your face. The last thing you need is for him to pick up on your blush or hidden feelings. "You know what I meant. It's been a few months since you broke things off with your ex. I would've thought by now you would've met someone else."

Your best friend takes the observation in stride, offering a response of, "Just haven't met anyone that great, to be honest. I broke things off with her because I wasn't feeling it anymore. I didn't love her, and I don't think she loved me either. We're way better off as friends."

A lump forms in your throat at his words. Is that how he sees you? A friend and never anything more? You're unsure if you're comforted by this thought or horrified.

"I guess that's fair." After grabbing the sesame oil from the shelf around the corner, you turn to Jungkook and ask, "Your turn. Show me what to get for Tteokguk."

Over the next twenty minutes, the pair makes the rounds through the supermarket. By the time you've gathered the ingredients for Tteokguk and Hwajeon—along with some soju and makgeolli that make every holiday meal better—you're both hungry and dying for something to eat. 

"We're gonna need a portable stove-top," you state as Jungkook adds banana milk to the cart with a greedy and childlike giggle. "The camping variety should work. Maybe we can plug it into the generator if we can find it?"

"There may be battery-powered ones, too," he says. "You go grab a couple of saucepans and cooking utensils. I'll get the stove. Meet back here in two?"

You nod, then lift your blanket-covered arms towards the brunet. "Up, up!"

Though he rolls his eyes, Jungkook leans down and scoops you up. Your arms wrap around his neck. His strength is effortless as he lifts you out of the cart and places you on the floor. The blanket catches on your toe, causing you to become off-balance. Jungkook reaches out and places his hands on your hips to ensure you don't fall. Your arms tighten around his neck.

"Whoa, you okay?" he asks.

You turn your gaze towards him, nose almost brushing against his in the process. You hadn't realized how close you both had gotten during the near-fall. Not that you're complaining. Your heart is hammering as his eyes search yours, that breathtaking brown that makes you want to melt.

God, you love his eyes.

Jungkook's lips tug upwards in a teasing expression. "Thanks, but that's not my best feature."

You shake your head a bit, not understanding what he's said. "What?"

"You said you love my eyes. I mean, they're great, but I think my personality is my best feature."

Your stomach sinks as you realize the accidental slip of the tongue. A wave of intense heat rises from your chest, up your neck, and covers your face. You break away from Jungkook and fix the blanket so it doesn't block your feet any longer.

"Fuck, I must be tired," you snigger. "I'm sorry, that was weird. Ignore me! I'll meet you in front of the bakery in two. That's the most open space." 

Without waiting for him to respond, you grab the cart. Not another moment goes by before you speed towards the kitchen equipment section. It's on the other side of the supermarket, but that gives time to hide with your proverbial tail between your legs.

Searching for a set of pans to use is the last thing on your mind when you arrive. Quickly finding a pair that will work, you grab the nearest set of bowls, chopsticks, and cooking tools. It takes much less than two minutes, and you use the rest of the time to recover from your blunder.

"'I love your eyes'? Really?" You rest your forehead against the edge of the shelf, letting it press against the cold metal. A groan slips past your lips. "My god, I'm such a fucking moron."

You've been trying to ignore these feelings for a while. They've been creeping in over the last year. But none have been more difficult to hide than when you first returned to Korea after a time abroad. Jungkook glued to your side the moment you returned, and you'd spent more time together over the extensive holiday season than ever before. You had convinced yourself it was a silly crush before you left. When you returned, you told yourself that it was just a relief to be back in the arms of your best friend.

But these feelings haven't left, and they're tired of being pushed to the side. One way or another, you have to face the truth. And if there ever was a time more perfect to do some self-reflection, the Lunar New Year is a perfect time.

You breathe a heavy sigh and close your eyes. Deep down, you know the truth is evident. It has been for months. There's no point in kidding yourself any longer.

You've fallen in love with your best friend. Slowly but surely, over years and years of friendship, in a way you never expected: Jeon Jungkook has stolen your heart.

"Shit," you curse, shaking your head to yourself as your eyes flutter back open.

There it is. There's the truth you've been running from. Out in the open for all parts of your being to see. The next question to ask is even more difficult to face, and you gnaw your lower lip at the thought of it.

What are you doing to do about it?

Taglist — @kookie-off-his-kookie​

[epiphany-of-a-madwoman]

The Last Dragon | The Witcher & Game of Thrones

Chapter 2 | A New Life

Summary: Visenya Targaryen is the eldest and only surviving child of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell. When Robert Baratheon’s rebellion was won, instead of being slaughtered by the Mountain like her mother and siblings, she was saved by Ned Stark and taken as his ward. Years later, after she’s killed at the Red Wedding, she wakes up outside Blaviken. Now she finds her destiny intertwined with the White Wolf on her quest to go back home.

Note: Here’s chapter 2! Thanks for all your comments and love. I was kind of shocked at how many people would want to read this so thank you! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for this story. P.S: Find the season 8 reference 

Slowly, Visenya’s eyes open, her vision hazy and muddled as she’s stuck in between distant dreams and the waking world. One blink, two blinks, three blinks. The room is much brighter than the darkness in sleep, her heavy eyes begging her to succumb to it once more, if only for five more minutes. Sunlight floods in through the window, cleansing away the darkness and the nightmares that come with it. The bed beneath her is lumpy and uncomfortable, leaving much to be desired in terms of comfort. The distant shouts of patrons in the tavern below only slightly muffled. Due to the thin walls, it sounds as if someone is screaming from behind Visenya’s door rather than from the floor below. A low grunt leaves her mouth, head pounding like a drum. Pain faintly shoots through her jaw as she slowly unclenches it. A loud pop echoes in the small room, Visenya’s arms stretching towards the ceiling. Lying in bed for a moment longer, she stares at the ceiling with a blank mind.

A year.

It’s been exactly a year since she showed up here. And despite that, she’s never grown used to it. A piece of Visenya still believes that this is all an elaborate dream. Perhaps she’ll wake up and be back in camp, fighting a losing war. Or maybe she’ll be in Winterfell, tucked away in her bed as she huddled under her furs to keep away the cold. All the Starks will be alive and well, and Visenya can laugh with them over breakfast as she chases away the bizarre and dark nightmare.

But the other half of her knows that idea to be false, nothing but a fantasy that’s just out of her grasp. This is real, and so are the actions that led to her showing up in Blaviken. She can still see it too, in the depths of her mind. The last image of Robb burned in her head as his body was paraded around the burning camp, his head cut off and replaced with Greywind’s. The unspoken apologies bubbling out of Visenya’s mouth, all the words she never got to say to him and never will.

No, this is all real. And the sooner Visenya accepts that the sooner she can move on with her life.

She just hasn’t learned how to.

A crash from below and a slew of muffled curses bring Visenya out of her thoughts. Metaphorically and physically, Visenya shakes her head in an attempt to clear away the lingering melancholy. With a heavy sigh and the popping sound of bones cracking, Visenya pulls herself out of the bed, throwing aside the thin, itchy blanket. The cool wooden flooring on her feet is a stark but welcome contrast to her warm temperature. With the grace of a drunkard, she stagers over to the small dresser shoved in the corner of her room. In the process, she tosses off her old nightgown and trades it for a simple blue dress. She haphazardly tosses it on, unbothered by any wrinkles. It’s one of the few dresses she owns. She managed to sew it - after many pricked fingers and a storm of curse words. She received the fabric from the local tailor. One of the local men was harassing the tailor and Visenya offered to get him off her hands in exchange for some fabric. Needless to say, the man - who turned out to be usual at the tavern - had a beautiful black eye for a solid week. It’s a win-win for Visenya; she gets free fabric and the men think twice about harassing her.

If they’re smart, that is.

She still owns all the things she brought with her from Westeros. Her clothes and sword were cleaned, various holes patched until they appeared brand new and her sword shined brilliantly. Her clothes lie in a chest, carefully folded and tucked under her small bed. The sword lies beside it in its sheath waiting to be used once more. Visenya had been unable to get rid of the items but couldn’t bear to look at them. So they’re neatly tucked away, collecting dust as Visenya pretends they don’t exist.

Some nights, when riddled with melancholy and sorrow she’ll pull out the chest and unsheath her blade. The fine dress, embroidered with small flowers and details of silk alongside the deep blue cloak adorned with a fierce dragon and a proud direwolf gets drenched in salty tears. Sobs tear through the silence of the room, echoing in Visenya’s mind until it’s the only thing she can focus on, blocking out the sounds of screams from that night. She’d trace her sword, feeling the dragon on the hilt beneath her fingertips. It was both a source of pain and strength for her. It reminds her of what she lost in Westeros but it also reminded her of who she is - what she is. A dragon; and a dragon is unbothered by the sheep.

With a halfhearted ruffle of her tangled hair, the previously silver locks now dyed a mud brown. In fear of sounding vain, she hates the color. The golden - silver locks were always her pride and joy. It was soft as silk and shined like fine jewels, reflecting beautifully in the sun as it glittered like gold. The light bouncing off the alabaster snow made her glow. Sansa used to adore braiding her hair, styling it in southern braids. Now it was dry, tangled, and dull; never styled in the intricate braids she used to wear.  

But the dye is a necessary evil. Despite not being in Westeros - or anywhere near it - silver hair isn’t a natural color for women her age. And the people in Blaviken don’t take kindly to anything different. So, in an attempt to not garner any attention to herself, silver became brown. And with each application of the dye, Visenya feels a piece of her old self being chipped away, whittling away until there isn’t much left.

Another crash.

She turns around, another sigh escaping her mouth. She moves towards the door, swinging it open as she moves down the hall. It is bare and empty, with no patrons stumbling out of their room blindly. Her room is the closest to the stairs, often hindering Visenya from getting a restful sleep if the tavern below is in full swing. The floorboards creak beneath the weight of her, the sounds lining up with each breath she takes.

Every day is a challenge to keep her head down and mouth shut. The patrons are rowdy and crude, many of them before even having a drop of ale in their systems. Insults would hang at the tip of her tongue, thrashing at the patrons like an angry serpent, ready to land a deadly strike. Her palms covered in crescent-shaped scars from clenching her fists for so long. And sometimes she’d let go and allow her temper to flare and get the best of her. But the risk is never worth the reward, and Aldred has proven to not be a kind boss.

So with a deep breath, Visenya steps down the last set of stairs and sets off towards the bar. The scent of stale alcohol and farm animals mingling with the aroma of food hits Visenya’s senses, causing her nose to wrinkle in disgust.

“There you are! Took you long enough to get down here.” Aldred, the innkeeper loudly exclaims upon seeing Visenya. She mutters a quiet sorry as he shoves a tray of drinks in her hands. “Quit your apologizing girl. Just take these drinks to that table.” He motions over to a rowdy group of men, all donning dyed red leathers. A group of bandits - or mercenaries, Visenya doesn’t care to find out. They came in last night with a woman named Renfri, and haven’t shut up since. She manages to balance the tray in her hands and takes over to their table, dropping it with a thud.

“Enjoy.” she sarcastically mutters, already moving away before any of them have a chance to speak. A scowl automatically places itself on her face as she begins another day of work.

“Do you ever smile Jane?” Isadora, another one of the serving girls says as she passes by to bring another table their drinks. She’s kind enough but the biggest gossip in this backwater town. You can count on anything you say to her being passed around Blaviken within the next hour.    

“Only when bathing in the blood of my enemies,” she mutters to herself, quiet enough that no one should hear. The small chuckle that leaves a woman Visenya was passing, Renfri, told her she was unsuccessful. Visenya pauses to give the woman a quick glance before moving back to the bar, where Aldred already had another round of ale ready for a different table. She picks up the serving tray, careful to not spill the drinks ontop.

“You always so grim?” Renfri asks Visenya as she walks past her to serve a table. This time Visenya doesn’t pause but does answer the woman.

“Only when my heart beats,” she nonchalantly says in a deadpan tone. She hears Renfri stifling another laugh, but if she said anything else, Visenya didn’t hear.

“Here ya go boys,” she mutters, once again dropping the drinks carelessly on the table. Some of it splashes out of the cups and creates small puddles. A few of the men scowl at her as they grab their respective drinks.

“You always do have the most lovely smile Jane.” one of the men pipes up. Jerald, he’s here far too often and spends too much coin. It doesn’t help that he also smells like he’s never been introduced to bathing. Then again, that is most of the people in this town, Visenya has unfortunately discovered. Jerald, feeling brave from the copious ale he’s already consumed, reaches a hand out to grab Visenya. The anger bubbling under the surface of Visenya snaps, the fire inside her flaring to life. With the speed and ferocity of a roaring fire, she grips his hand that rests on her arm.

Without a moment of hesitation, she bends his wrist back until the back of his hand hits the table surface. He lets out a strangled cry of pain as she holds his hand in an uncomfortable position. The men around them let out various cries of surprise but do nothing else. The previously jovial atmosphere in the tavern dissipates, silence smothering the room as everyone stares at their table. She tightens her grip on his wrist, bending down until her face is a few centimeters away from his. Like a snarling wolf, she bares her teeth at him.

“Touch me again, and I’ll show you something far nicer,” Visenya said, a threat thinly veiled in her words. His eyes stare at her, closely resembling a spooked deer, fear speckled in his gaze. She holds him there a moment longer before releasing his arm. Without another word she swiftly moves back to the bar. Multiple pairs of eyes continue to follow Visenya as the atmosphere slowly returns, the chatter in the room picking up. And by the time she reaches the bar, the only two pairs of eyes on her, Aldred and Renfri. Aldred’s beady eyes follow her, a scowl resting on his face while Renfri watches her with a critical eye mingled with a look of approval.

“They always like that?” Renfri asks her, casually leaning again the bar counter, nonchalantly tossing pieces of her breakfast in her mouth. She lazily watches Visenya circle around the bar until she stands across from Renfri. Visenya’s gaze moves from the counter to meet Renfri’s. They quietly watch each other, Renfri waiting for an answer, and Visenya contemplating giving an answer.  

“All men are the same when they’ve got ale in them.” Visenya smoothly replies, breaking the silence and ending their stare-off. She grabs another cup and fills it to the brim with ale, sliding it over to Renfri. The woman merely raises an eyebrow at Visenya before tipping the cup up towards her mouth. Visenya watches as she finishes the ale so fast she could’ve given Robert Baratheon a run for his money. She slams the cup down, wiping away any residual ale on her face. Visenya says nothing, opting to begin eating an assortment of meats, cheese, and bread.

“Renfri.” she simply says, holding a hand out to Visenya.

“I know,” Visenya says, placing her hand in Renfri’s. “Jane.”

“I know.” Renfri mimics, giving her a teasing smirk. Visenya returns the gesture. She takes a moment to get a good look at Renfri. Shoulder length brown hair that’s almost as messy and unkempt as her own; a red blouse - matching the red leathers of her band of men; and a rather large brooch of a sword going through a circle with glittering gems on it.

“Nice broach.” Visenya simply says, removing her hand from Renfri’s grip.

“I think so too, it’s why I have it.” she smugly says. Visenya simply snorts with a snarky retort on the tip of her tongue, when they’re interrupted.

“You stupid girl, the fuck you think you’re doing? Get back to work!” Aldred bellows as he moves towards the bar, gathering the attention of any nearby patrons. “I swear you’re more trouble than you’re worth, Jerald and the boys said you attacked him again,” he sneers, resembling a boar preparing to attack. Visenya subtly rolls her eyes, eliciting a snarky smirk from Renfri. Aldred always did have a way with words.

She grabs two plates of food, probably prepared by Isadora. Without glancing in his direction she glides past Aldred, taking them to their respective tables. She drops the plates on the table. Without waiting for either of them to speak, Visenya turns back to leave. Before she can get back to the bar, the tavern door swings open. A large figure donning a cloak enters the tavern with heavy footsteps, his hood concealing most of his face. But Visenya manages to get a decent look at him before he moves from view. Sculpted face, piercing amber eyes, and snow-white hair. He quickly approaches the counter, where Isadora currently is. Visenya’s too far to hear what’s being said, but the pair are quickly interrupted when Aldred swiftly approaches them His face is nearly red with anger, making Isadora immediately move away from the two. At this point, everyone in the tavern has gone dead silent. Visenya moves closer in an attempt to better hear the conversation. One of the men with Renfri had already stood up, venomously shouting something at the stranger.

“Go; on your own or at the end of a rope. Your choice.” Aldred spits at the man, his arms crossed over his chest. He’s trying to appear intimidating, but the man before him is easily twice his side. Plus, Visenya doubts Aldred could overpower a half-dead chicken.

“Not a hard choice.” the man replies in a smooth voice. He turns to face the man that had spoken to him earlier. Visenya continues to move closer until she’s nearly behind the counter.

“Fuck that, kill him with your bare hands if ya have to,” Aldred says. After he says this, the rest of the men in red leather stand up, getting into a defensive stance. Visenya silently rolls her eyes at the situation. As far as she’s concerned the man hasn’t done anything wrong, and now they’re threatening to kill him. She carelessly glides behind the counter, trying to distract herself from the current tension.

“Probably why business isn’t so great,” Visenya mutters to herself, starting to pour another cup of ale, ready for this mess to be done with. She can feel the flames slowly building as her temper does - the same way it did the night she died. If they didn’t stop this nonsense, Visenya imagined she would be the one doing the killing and not on her own volition. Though the only thing she’d be mourning here is free room and board.

“Come on Witcher, you’re not scared of us are ya?” he asks in a mocking tone. A few of his men begin to step up beside him. The stranger just continues to stare at them. “Show us what ya got.” he goads, obviously looking for a fight.

“Can you not leave it alone for a moment?” Renfri interrupts, dramatically turning to face the group, throwing her food back onto her plate.

“Witchers can’t be trusted,” Aldred says through his gritted teeth.

“I’m not speaking to you,” Renfri says, not bothering to look at Aldred. “I apologize for my man’s interference in your day.” Renfri continues, nodding at the stranger whose back was turned to her. “Hopefully he can improve his behavior by tomorrow’s market.” Renfri finishes, her tone implying the words had a deeper meaning. The stranger and the man in red leather continue staring tensely at each other before he speaks up.

“Sorry Renfri.” he simply says, still staring at the stranger before swiftly turning back to his table.

“Beer for my friend and one for me,” Renfri calls out to Aldred, turning back to the counter to finish her food. Aldred simply huffs and crosses his arms, staring down the stranger - resembling a petulant child. “I am speaking to you now, good sir!” Renfri calls out to Aldred louder, slightly leaning against the bar. The stranger, who now faces the counter pulls down his hood, revealing tangled white hair that goes below his shoulders. His current position also lets her see his black studded leather armor and a wolf pendant that hangs from his neck. Visenya, who’d been at the counter pouring drinks into cups, without looking to Aldred for confirmation, simply slides two drinks their way. One for Renfri and one for the stranger. Aldred glares daggers at Visenya, but she can’t pretend to be bothered. With the tension in the room slowly easing, so is the fire that was bubbling inside of her. Something Visenya is grateful for. Renfri simply gives Visenya a nod and turns to the stranger. He also nods his head in acknowledgment of her but does nothing further.

She moves to grab a cup of ale that Aldred had loudly slammed on the counter, his intention to get Visenya’s attention. As she grabs the mug he harshly glares at her but says nothing as she moves past him. The volume in the room has returned, but the tension is still there. Everyone seems to be uncomfortable with the presence of the stranger.

“Jane! Another round if you will!” Renfri calls to her as Visenya was making her way back to the counter. As she passes Aldred who was still standing in the same position as earlier, she gives him a sickly sweet smile. The smile that was only reserved for arrogant Lords that visited Winterfell and Robert Baratheon, when he came to ask Lord Stark to be his Hand. On her way past him, she grabs a pitcher of ale. As she moves around the counter, she replaces Renfri’s cup with the pitcher.

“We both know you’re going to drink it all. Might as well cut the middle man.” Visenya teasingly tells Renfri. Renfri gives Visenya a sly smile, but it doesn’t match the broody expression on her face. She picks up the jug and moves towards the stranger.

“More and more monsters wherever I go,” she says, her tone sounding defeated, before leaving the tavern. Visenya watches her for a moment before turning her gaze to the stranger, who she now stood before. Even sitting down he was still taller than her. His gaze moved from Renfri to Visenya. His expression is unreadable, not sure what to expect from her.

“Jane.” she simply says. The stranger raises a dark eyebrow at her. Strange, it doesn’t match his head. “That’s my name.” she finishes. He gives her a gruff ‘Hmm’ before taking another drink of his ale. “This is normally the part where you tell the other person your name.” Visenya quips.

“Geralt of Rivia,” he answers after finishing his drink. Visenya nods in satisfaction.

“You made quite a stir coming in here,” Visenya says, already pouring him another drink.

“It happens,” he replies shortly.

“It must be the hair.” Visenya sarcastically quips. Geralt quietly chuckles.

“Must be,” he replies, his voice gravelly and rough. She opens her mouth to respond with something witty when they’re interrupted.

“How much coin for you kikimora then.” Marilka, the alderman’s daughter, interrupts, leaning against the counter beside Geralt.

~

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