#he NEEDS a cat. or else he'll die. a second time
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
torn between "i need to draw my ocs at their lowest moments, suffering in agony, covered in blood, etc" and "i should draw my ocs in their dream home surrounded by loved ones and petting a cat"
#psst wanna know a secret. this is#fhr posting#because i'm thinking aboutttt#taliesin becker#i've drawn tal suffering like. idk 4 times in the last few days#but what if they could like. have a comfy bed and get a good nights sleep#they love spoon but i think they're a cat person deep down#i'm no telepath but my cat has the same effect on me as Spoon does on sidestep#she's sitting here slow blinking at me rn#this post is also about#al a kazam#he NEEDS a cat. or else he'll die. a second time#he already died once and i bet it was because he didn't have a cat /j#jk it's because a cop shot him. well they shot at him once and missed and he probably made fun of them for it and then they didn't miss#but i bet if he had a cat he would've had more self preservation
7 notes
·
View notes
Text



bf! hamzah x reader headcannons (sfw!)
- i feel like his love language is acts of service. if you guys don't live together already, he definitely acts like you do. need to go run errands? he'll drive you. hungry? he'll cook you something. in fact, he has all the cabinets memorized so he really never has to ask you where anything is. he knows what you like and don't like, and obviously if you have any allergies, so everything he prepares is to your liking. stressed? he'll run you a hot bath, complete with candles and a laptop sitting on a table for you to watch movies. he would even sit down on the floor next to you to keep you company, just in case you wanted to talk. how sweet!
- though he's a busy man with his podcast and youtube channel, you rarely feel like you come second to his career the more the relationship progresses. although you probably reassure him that it's okay if he stays a little late to finish editing or filming, he makes it up to you by bringing you some food or flowers. he genuinely feels bad when he has to be kept away from his girlfriend, so he tries to make up for it afterwards by showing you that he thinks of you even when you're apart.
- he would definitely play games with you when he can. i feel like you'd get a random text from him while he's filming that says something along the lines of him playing a game with martin that he wants to play with you. if it's a horror game, he'd definitely have you sit on his lap. with each jumpscare, he holds you tighter as you both jump or possibly scream. you secretly know that it's just an excuse for him to hold you, but of course, you don't mind.
- whenever he watches you holding or petting red and blue, his heart melts a little. he enjoys when you take care of his cats since they're literally his children. there are times you'll sleep over and wake up to the sight of hamzah, red, and blue all cuddled up next to you.
- speaking of cuddle, hamzah seems like the type to have such a heavy grip on you when you're asleep together. i can imagine you trying to go to work or school and attempting to get up from out of bed but he simply doesn't let you. the grip he has on your waist is tight as SHIT like he's acting like he'd die if he let go. eventually you squeeze out of his arms and get ready, but he soon wakes up and asks you why you left him there.
- you are passenger princess. always. he HATES it when you drive because he doesn't see the point. he's always available to take you places and enjoys being your own personal chauffeur. he understands that you can do things on your own, but he wants you to understand that you don't have to since he's in your life.
- i feel like he's heavy on communication and comprehension. in the beginning of the relationship, he was probably scared to tell you when he got jealous or when you do something that bothers him, but over time he realized he has to talk or else nothing would change. if something's bothering him, he won't hesitate to talk to you about it in a respectful and meaningful way. he isn't accusatory, but talks to you with softness in his voice. you guys are a team. afterwards, he just basks in your existence and spends time with you to reassure you that you guys are alright.
- when you guys are out together, he acts like he hates when you baby him. he tries his best to seem as masculine and strong as possible when you two are in public. in private? the complete opposite. he prefers being little spoon and resting his head on your chest while you stroke his hair. he loves when you kiss him on the forehead and when you call him cute pet names. he looks at you with so much adoration when you treat him like he's your baby.
- when you're upset, he definitely tries to cheer you up by making you laugh. whether it's cracking joke after joke or pretending to fall or finding a funny game to play with you, he will not stop until he sees you smile. he hates seeing a frown on your face and will genuinely do anything to take any sort of discomfort or pain away from you.
--
authors note
i decided to write at 1:24 on a school night because i NEEDED more hamzah fics. ts is kinda ass tho but we thug! take care of urselves lovelies mwah i will write more soon!
#hamzah fic#hamzah imagines#hamzah x reader#hamzahthefantastic#hamzah fluff#hamzah x y/n#hamzahthefanatasticxreader#slushy noobz
469 notes
·
View notes
Text
To Love A Lannister
chapter 2 | chapter 3
The crowd had gotten louder the moment you opened your eyes, squinting at first against the sun. You wanted to shield your sight but with your hands tied behind your back, all you could do was wiggle your head to the opposite direction. And when you looked to the sides, there Cersei stood, her lips curved into an evil smile, along side her son, King Joffrey. The sound of a man grunting beside you made you turn your head. A masked man was pulling some kind of rope beside you. Your eyes followed where it leads, ending on a machinery located on top of you. It only took you a second to figure out it was a guillotine.
Thwak!
You abruptly woke up, grasping your neck as if on instinct if it was still connected to your body. You weren't scared to die, not for now, anyway. But you'd have a far chance getting killed from drowning rather than execution.
It was only a harmless threat, you thought. Cersei was known for it. And even when you knew what you were getting to in the end, it couldn't hurt you a little less to try, that maybe the endless looks you get from Cersei during dinners and passing meant something other than distaste.
Sleep was hard to get by after that. With nothing else left to do, you decided to wake up for the day.
Oberyn and Ellaria were still fast asleep so you tried to find food for breakfast. And if luck permitted you, you might bumped into the Queen herself.
It was not the Queen you met by the courtyard near the Kitchen's Keep but Tommen, her youngest son. It appeared he was chasing something that scurried further away into the bushes.
When he didn't see you standing behind him, he bumped into your chest. "Apologies My Lady, I was just chasing my cat."
"No worries, My Prince," you greeted back as you bowed. "In fact, I saw him running towards those bushes. I'd help you, if you'd allow it."
"Please, I don't want to bother-"
"Nonsense," you said, then you and Tommen crouched unto the dirt and began looking for his cat. Fortunately, a sliver of gray caught your eye before it jumped to the nearby fence.
"Got you," you said as you caught the furry cat, brushing its fur as you returned it to a smiling Tommen.
"Thank you, My Lady," he said.
"Does it have a name?"
"Ser Pounce."
"An honorable name."
"Do you think so? Joffrey doesn't think so," he said sadly. "He always says he'd kill him and make me eat it."
"I'm sure he's only kidding, My Prince," you said, though you didn't doubt Joffrey wouldn't do it. "If you need any place for him to hide for the meantime, you can always ask me."
Tommen smiled from ear to ear. And that was when you finally noticed you two weren't alone.
"It's time for breakfast, Tommen," Cersei called, her hands tightly clutching against the post. The Queen possessed a kind of beauty no one could compare. And you were completely enamored.
"Your Grace," you greeted, bowing your head.
"Coming, Mother!" Tommen answered before turning back to you. "Would you like to join us for breakfast, My Lady?"
Before you could reply, Cersei added, "I'm sure Y/N has something else to tend to this morning-"
"Of course, I'd like to dine with you," you interrupted, chuckling softly. "I feel famished myself already. Tommen here can tell me more about Ser Pounce and how he became a knight."
Tommen laughed as you walked together towards the dining hall, ignoring Cersei's warning glare she was sending your way.
Luckily, Joffrey wasn't around to join. And that meant Tommen was free to discuss with you about his cat and about the cats in Dorne. You had shared with him how you used to have a pet cat who died due to old age. You mentioned it was your late cousin Elia's cat.
"That's terrible, I don't want that to happen to Ser Pounce," Tommen said as he brushed the furry cat on his lap.
"I'm sure he'll live a long life, My Prince," you assured him. "In fact, Myrcella has also gotten herself a cat in Dorne."
The mention of Cersei's daughter made the Queen drop her spoon.
"Really? I can't wait to meet them. Mother, can we go visit Myrcella in Dorne?" Tommen asked.
Cersei could only force a smile. You didn't mean to put the Queen on the spot so you eventually changed the topic.
When Tommen had excused himself to chase after Ser Pounce, who suddenly jumped from his lap to chase a mouse, the air in the room grew thick.
"You seem to have gotten close to my daughter," Cersei began, after sipping her wine. "I'm glad hospitality is still being practiced in Dorne nowadays."
You smiled at her. "Yes, Your Grace. Myrcella's a bright girl, kind and exceptional. I loved having her around when we're reading scrolls about the night sky and the history of Dorne."
"She doesn't need to know the history of Dorne, when she'll be back to the Capital once she's of age," Cersei said.
"Well, Myrcella always seems curious. And there's no harm seeking more wisdom when there's nothing left to lose."
There was utter silence as you both continued to eat.
"She misses you, Your Grace," you said sincerely. This softened the Queen's stature. It even brought a little smile on her face.
"Mm, we do send each other letters from time to time," Cersei answered.
"You know no words would be tantamount to physical presence-"
"Are you suggesting I should visit Dorne?" Cersei asked, chuckling.
"Why not, Your Grace? I, myself, could give you a tour."
Cersei laughed softly. And it was the kind of laugh that didn't sound evil. It was a genuine one. A soft one. One that's full of longing.
The conversation went on as you both talked about Dorne, about Myrcella, about Cersei's travels when she was young, how being a Queen caged her from exploring and how she once had a dream she had a boat of her own and she'd be the captain.
It only ended abruptly when Jaime arrived, setting his helmet on the dining table rather loud and harshly, as if he was intentionally interrupting your conversation.
~~~
Later that night, Tywin held a small dinner for the guests. You would have enjoyed it, however, the sight of Cersei and Jaime rather close together only made your stomach churn with spite.
And there was King Joffrey, boastfully showing off the wild boar he had caught earlier that morning. You knew he had ordered a servant to do that for him. You were about to counter his speech but decided against it, remembering how you had promised to control yourself around Cersei's first son.
The only time you couldn't pretend to be happy were the times Cersei was with Jaime. Jaime came back a week ago with a decapitated hand. You felt pity for the man who had suffered being a hostage by the Starks yet you couldn't help feeling bitter whenever he and Cersei had gotten close.
You knew the rumors. Drunk Tyrion even confirmed it one night you accompanied your cousin in certain brothels. That Cersei was truly involved with her twin brother Jaime. That the King was not the true heir. Even Myrcella. Or Tommen.
You decided to ignore them when you could still control yourself. One wrong comment from you would make your nightmare come true.
And then there was Ser Loras Tyrell from Highgarden, brother of the bride to be Lady Margaery, the one Cersei is arranged to be married.
This made you feel more hatred as if you had any right at all.
Cersei was staring outside the window alone with a glass of red wine in her hand when you noticed Loras approached her. She immediately dismissed him the soonest he opened his mouth to talk before she went to watch by the next window instead.
The disappointment on Loras' face brought comfort in yours.
This was the time you finally approached Cersei.
If she'd dismissed you like the way she did to the poor guy, it was probably a sign from the heavens to give up on pursuing after her.
"Your Grace," you greeted, bowing your head before standing beside her by the window. The celebration had spread outside the Red Keep, where you could see a couple of people drinking loudly and yelling outside their houses.
"Parties in Dorne are different," you commented. "It's lively and thrilling."
Cersei snorted before she sipped her wine, her eyes still on the horizon. "And what of the Capital?"
"It's dark and dull, the complete opposite to be honest, but I mean no offense, Your Grace," you replied.
"If it was such a bore to you, why bother come?"
You smiled. "And miss this chance to meet you, Your Grace? I wouldn't trade it for anything in this world."
Cersei's cheeks flushed but your eyes could only be imagining it for the torches inside the castle could be playing tricks on you.
She licked her lips before speaking, "What do you want?"
"What?"
"You've been certainly making it your priority to catch my attention," she went on with disdain in her voice. "Sparing with Joffrey, getting close with Tommen and Myrcella. Is it Tommen you want? I'm sure Dorne won't tolerate such a thing."
It made you laugh. "I believe you're right, Your Grace."
Cersei chuckled darkly. "I'd better be dead before I'd allow your marriage to my youngest boy."
You quickly shook your head, still laughing. "No, Your Grace. It was just to catch your attention."
"To what end?"
And you only stared at her as if you had nothing else to say.
She scoffed, suddenly realizing. "You must be out of your mind. In fact, I believe you want to get yourself killed."
"Dorne is amazing," you reasoned. "In fact, richer and more powerful than Highgarden. And we all know Ser Loras is a pillow biter. And. . . Myrcella already loves it there in Dorne-"
"I don't think you have noticed one wrong physical aspect. How would you even gift an heir to my father?"
You smiled. "Trust me, I have no problems with that, Your Grace. I'm sure the rumors about me have also spread upon my arrival."
Cersei only fell silent as her eyes quickly darted to your crotch back to your face before gazing out the horizon.
"If you think I'd entertain such a ludicrous idea then I suggest you guard your doors at night because I myself will slice off your tongue. You're not even a known Martell. What makes you think degrading myself to your level would even be a fair comparison as to marrying Loras?"
"Forgive me, Your Grace." You bowed, hurt upon the admission. "I didn't mean to offend-"
"Offend? You insulted my family name."
"Cersei, a word?"
Both of you turned to Tywin's voice.
"Apologies My lady Y/n, I have something to discuss with my daughter."
"Of course, Lord Tywin," you said, then you looked at Cersei, avoiding her eyes. "Your Grace."
154 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stolen Stars Characters: ✨Solaris✨
Hiii there✨
This post is about my starboy Solaris. I recommend reading this post about wishing stars first so you understand a few points here✨
-----------
Design:
Solaris's design is inspired by these concepts:



His hair, fingertips and the ends of his cape show that he's entirely made of stardust, he has glowing golden hair which is kind of messy, his outfit makes him look like a prince
His cape has sparkles that constantly flow down, representing shooting stars (based off this material)
The inside of his cape is basically like a window to outer space, the star in the front and back of his cape is the the star we see from earth
Final design:
Personality:
-Kind
-Shy
-Compassionate
-Forgiving
-Humble
-Innocent
-Pure hearted
-Curious
-Playful
The poor boy is very clumsy, especially when he needs to get used to walking in the beginning.
Solaris loves tight spaces. He could sit in a box or closet covered in blankets like a cat. He also loves sunlight a lot.
Even though he is very afraid of humans, he's still interested in what they can create (art, music and stories).
Something to keep in mind is that Solaris could never hurt someone. Or let someone die.
Powers:
-Light he emits affects animals and humans
-Heal himself and others
-Create things out of stardust
-Remove curses on others, but the curses are then stored in him. Which affects him negatively (Makes him weaker, tired)
-See and feel people's wishes (unless their wish was taken)
-Levitation
-Bring someone back to life, but he can only do that if the person has been dead for a few seconds (he can't bring someone back who's been dead for an hour)
When he revives someone, he gives them his energy, meaning he'll collapse and pass out shortly after reviving someone so he can get his energy back.
When he revives someone, his magic looks like tendrils. The best example I have is this scene from Tangled:

Weaknesses:
-Negativity
-Curses
-Dark magic
All these can either make Solaris weaker, overwhelm or hurt him.
Backstory:
-Solaris was born as a pure hearted wishing star after someone saved the life of another person they didn't like

(Here is a sketch of Solaris as a child, bc why not✨)
-Since he was a pure hearted wishing star, he was more "human" than normal wishing stars
-Solaris has never been to earth before, and never granted a wish
-Solaris never had true friends, only other stars he could talk to. You could say he was being politely tolerated. He was following others around like a puppy
-The only other star who ever truly wanted him was The Blue Fairy, or Evangeline, who was like a mother to Solaris
-Over the years many wishing stars he knew went missing after going down to earth to grant wishes
-When Solaris was eight years old, Evangeline went down to earth and never returned, which made him fear humans
-A while after Evangeline went missing, Solaris had a dream with a human girl in it, who was very sad after her father died. Despite his fear, he still comforted her
-Solaris spent most of his time alone in the asteroid belt in the solar system, there he waited for Evangeline to return
-Over the years, Solaris stopped trying to form connections with other stars. He believes that no matter how hard he'll try, he will never fit in
-One day, Solaris was once again in the asteroid belt, but this time a green light grabbed him and pulled him down to earth, and he landed in Rosas
The Curse:
-Prevents him from leaving earth or Rosas, if he tries to leave, he get's shocked and passes out
-If he uses his powers the curse hurts him and makes him weaker
-When feeling negative emotions his face is more distorted
-He has to sleep every night to keep the curse contained in a way, or else it will spread and make him weaker
Solaris's appearance changes when the curse affects him more. His hair starts to turn green and his colors become more muted and grey.
How do you remove this curse? Only the royals know.
What Solaris represents:
Solaris represents the purest type of love. The kind of love that exists without expectations, judgment, or conditions. This love accepts someone as they are and simply loves them because they exist and it loves people without excepting anything in return.
-----------------
Well, that's it. I hope you like Solaris! I certainly do. He's such a bean✨
Oh, and here's a little fun fact: Solaris is inspired by Snow White. They're both sweethearts and represent the good in the world. And also inspire people to improve themselves.
Tbh I always thought it would've been a better reference if Star was more like Snow White instead of Ricky Rodent- uh, Mickey Mouse. But oh well😔
Thank you for reading✨
@jojo-ker06 @your-ne1ghbor @spectator-zee @rascalentertainments @chillwildwave @gracebethartacc @a-storytellers-wish @oh-shtars @evestarsart @pinkninja0708
#Also since I didn't mention it#Solaris is 16 years old#I think he's the youngest starboy in the wishverse lol#wish#wish rewrite#wish reimagined#wish au#stolen stars au#stolen stars solaris#wishing stars#wish rewrite fandom#wishverse
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
ok i lied its not gonna stay in my drafts
tagged by @nongunktional for the bossfight thing that my other friends/mutuals are also doing!! thank you this is super interesting to think about :D ok im gonna tag @windupaidoneus @fandaniel @worldoshaking for this! no pressure <3
ok well the thing about fai first is that he is very, very hard to find. mostly because he likes to hang out in really ulu* places like il mheg or ultima thule or somewhere high like kugane tower (which i havent climbed yet but you get the idea) if he's in a city. you'll first have to track him down with a randomised treasure map-like thing (maybe like that quest The Greatest Story Never Told?) which doesnt have map/quest markers to guide you, depending on which zone he's currently in. kinda like a wandering boss (like monster hunter) ! anyway the point is you gotta pre-game him. and once you find him thats where the fun starts!
phase 1 :
phase 1 is pretty straightforward and simple, since he's still surprised anyone even found him in the first place. he'll start with red mage, and start with tankbuster towers (Grand Impact) that the tanks have to take. then, a raidwide with addle, giving everyone a temporary magic vulnerability debuff before splitting the arena into a quarter-circle with rose thorns (Vice of Thorns). each healer needs to take a side or some will definitely die. he then targets each dps with a marker (Verthunder/Veraero) and either makes a puddle of thunder on the ground for the rest of the phase or sends them flying. he alternates between each area, not just staying in the centre, and periodically knockbacks the tanks with a tankbuster (think black cat mechanics but he's not throwing you, he's pushing you towards the thorns). theres also occasional raidwides (Verthunder) & dual stack markers (Verholy) ( go riiiight to the edge of the rose thorns to take them with everyone else ).
(yes i am making raidplans for this. this is vaguely what the arena looks like in phase 1)
transition into phase 2 :
the rose thorns disappear, returning the arena to normal and he'd start charging up an enrage (rdm lb3) and he's still probably at about 70% hp here? ish? his weapon becomes targetable and you have to knock it away from him in time, so its a dps check. he'd be pretty annoyed at his weapon breaking and/or landing out of the arena, so he'd just switch to another job, and that would be the transition into phase 2. he'd do one final knockback on everyone, with a down for the count debuff and switch to white mage.
phase 2 :
he'd start floating and do the job switch. he'd look up, brandish his staff and start off with a holy III, filling the arena with light and shrinking it into a circle. its also a raidwide, that reduces hp of everyone to half, and if everyone's not full in a few seconds they'll get a permanent damage down for the rest of the fight. next, two rectangle aoes (blood lilies) will telegraph at both sides of the arena, splitting it in half temporarily, and will start going to the other side slowly (like 9s's missiles in the nier raids). two stack markers (glare iv) will spawn above each healer's heads and the party will have to split to each side of the arena like so.
the stack markers will go off right as the aoe's finish moving.
after another raidwide (holy |||) and then the next mechanic, where he'll become un-targetable, pull either tank to him (rescue) and chain them next to him, while he charges Aether Absorption, which will instakill the tank if they arent out of the chains. two dps will constantly be targeted by a continuous aoe marker (like cloud of darkness in WoD) while the rest will have to break the chains on the tank. if they fail, the tank will die and will not be able to be rezzed afterwards, leaving them useless for the next phases, and also giving fai a chunk of his hp back. chains will repeat, (but this time with two people chained rather than just one) until either the whole party is picked off, or they manage to break the chains. generally the priority here is tanks > healers > dps. chains will eventually seize the whole party, aether absorption will go off, where the party will have to escape with a QTE. he'll say "so we're not done yet..?" he'll almost be back up to 90% hp and then will transition to his next phase.
phase 3 :
not really a traditional last phase, but he'll throw away his staff, leave the arena, and start casting Ego Split, which will spawn two manifestations of him, both splitting the arena into half and throwing each half of the party into each halves. (like diamond weapon and O8, but permanently)
(imagine the gap is a chasm and thats the arena!)
the tanks have to make sure the Manifestations NEVER see each other. otherwise they'll tether to each other and give each other buffs that will make them impossible to beat down. mechanics from previous phases will repeat, like the one with the dual stack markers and tankbuster towers from phase 1. after a while, the two Manifestations will each start casting their own enrage, which the other light party on the other side will have to stop. one side will get adds that they will have to kill, and the other will have aoe markers that will spawn, and also aether crystal pickups that they will have to throw out of the range of the manifestations. failing to do either will fill the aether gauge up, making the enrage cast fully. after successfully avoiding the enrage, fai will re-appear and will sheepishly pull the Manifestations back to him. he'll shake his head and say "we're done here. you've seen enough, haven't you?" and he'll leave.
#*ulu means a remote place with little human traffic#no drk bc umm. yeah. spoilers#ill add to this once the comic's at a certain point :)#fai sephir
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Vlad jumps universes.
Why? Well, his empire crumbled because of a certain wizard, who marked his fall as 'collateral damage' and Vlad?
Vlad was PISSED.
As a last fuck you from that same wizard, Vlad was turned into a cat, before that wizard croaked and died. So, Vlad jumped universes since everything he built crumbled and there was literally nothing tying him to that universe anyways.
So, he stepped foot in this new one and decided he would build his empire from the ground up, just like his old one. He will admit, it was a bit harder than he expected, being a cat closed a few methods for him to acquire what he wanted.
So, what to do?
Take a random, down on his luck man, and make him a deal he can't refuse of course. Lost the love of your life? Your family cut off all ties with you? Lost your home in a house fire and in crippling debt?
Well, does Vlad have an offer you can't refuse!
He'll give you everything you could ever need! Anything you would want, could be right within your grasp! You could change your fate with this one simple choice.
This is a deal you can't refuse!
Did he actually think he had a choice in the matter? When Vlad said he can't refuse, he meant it. Vlad will bring whatever you want within reach, fulfil your wildest dreams and give you a life of comfort you wouldn't have even believed a few moments prior!
Vlad then goes on to use said guy as the 'CEO' of his company, ripping multiple businesses out of the hands of the unwary and rebuilding his empire one block at a time with a human puppet as the face.
Said human puppet feels like he made a deal with a demon in the guise of a cat. But hey, he gets a lavish life and paid off debt so he's not really complaining about it. Could be worse, like asking for his soul or to gather a bunch of sacrifices to summon some greater demon god or something.
Then they pull up to Gotham for a Gala, the guy is unsure about it, but Vlad couldn't care less, and wants to smack the guy over the head with his paw because you think he would let you die while he was there? No, you're currently too useful for something like that.
He does roll his eyes though.
The guy wants to feel happy about it, but is slightly concerned and then decides not to think about it.
So, a while before the gala, Vlad goes out because he was curious about Gotham. Making no attempts at hiding how well-maintained he looked, or the expensive collar around his neck, that he willingly got himself thank you very much, because he goes the extra mile to play his part.
Of course, in a city like Gotham, such a thing doesn't go unnoticed. Resulting in multiple attempts to try and catnap him, not that they ever work, in fact, apparently seeing his powers just make him even more valuable.
Something about him being easy pickings since he doesn't belong to a Familia (Heard Robin call them that and it just caught on with everyone else) and that they could sell him off if they were quick.
Them? Sell him off? Tough luck.
After about... the fourth? Time that this happened, a few cat interrupted before he could do anything and then suddenly said cat gets shot, stands back up and goes back to fighting said humans who then ran away when another cat with power over electricity pulled up a few seconds later and they decided it wasn't worth it.
He could have taken care of himself, but it was interesting nonetheless, and because of that interest, he was now following the immortal cat who was constantly yapping his ear off with questions out of curiosity, bemusement, and interest.
Kevin the Deathless.
Is apparently what he was known as in the underbelly of Gotham city, known for his sheer recklessness and to be quite a pain in the ass since he would get back up no matter what you throw at him.
Vlad's interest only grows.
When asked for his age, he reveals it very easily since he didn't see any point in hiding it. 176, an age that shocks the cat, which is obvious, and then he's told that he's older than 'Gramps' and that he's 150.
Vlad pauses. Then resumes in the next second on the way to the warehouse that is home to Kevin's Familia.
Then he finds the Head to be Danny, and suddenly isn't as surprised anymore. Though for Danny to be the lead for an organization? Never thought he had it in him.
Danny is about as enthused to see Vlad as Vlad was enthused to see him.
Which is not at all.
Most of it due to the awkward tension between the two because of their past and outliving their friends and family and then just never getting around to trying to fix it. But Danny asks why Vlad is here, Vlad says for a gala, Danny then clarifies that he meant in this dimension.
And why he's a cat.
He gets a good laugh out when Vlad explains because of a wizard, which was the same circumstance as him but still, he didn't expect a wizard of all things to topple Vlad's empire and turn him into a cat. Said wizard is dead now, but details, details.
Vlad questions where he got Kevin, and Danny is like: "No you can't have him." While hiding Kevin under him, or trying to at least.
Vlad is like: [Wrinkles nose] "I don't want him you imbecile. I'm just curious."
Then they talk for a while, Vlad being filled in a bit about the different Familias around the city, Vlad is impressed that so many cats have what this dimension deems as meta-abilities. Then Vlad goes back, a few days later, and the Gala starts.
Then that Gala was held hostage and Vlad has never been so... done. In his life. The urge to smack his puppet grew, because this guy just wouldn't stop worrying about it.
Vlad is literally with him, why the fuck is he worrying? No harm would come to him when Vlad is around, the idiot.
So, due to losing patience, he went to take care of them. Fur changing from grey to black as night as he used his powers to take care of them.
Whatever fallout happens, he'll leave to his puppet to deal with. for worrying so much.
258 notes
·
View notes
Text
౨ৎ⋆ ˚。⋆ kitty itadori yuuji / gn!reader ©mariademetal 2024

cw ... yuuji calls reader babe, blood(?) but nothing violent and no vivid description of a wound, if there's anything else lmk note ... haiii welcome to my lil established relationship yuji fic in which he is a stupid cat dad this is HEAVILYYYYY based on my experiences with kittens (every single kitten i've ever owned has shat on my bed once, as if just to get it out of their system before devoting themselves to a litter box) and the many fatal injuries i've received from them..... word count ... 3.1k

At first, you're the one that's apprehensive about bringing the cat home.
It's a little brown thing that ambushes you at the foot of your apartment's stairs, and who was very fun playmate for the first twenty minutes it followed you around, but got to be a little more trouble than you thought it might be worth after locking into climbing you like a tree and tearing a hole in your jeans in the process. At which point, you decided that while your hangout sesh was a lot of fun, it's time for your friend to go back to its mother.
To its fortune, just as you steel your resolution to leave your new friend at the bottom of the staircase on which it first attacked you, Yuuji shows up— of course he does— and decides as soon as his eye catches the claws hanging off of your shirt that he will simply keel over and die if the two of you don't foster the kitten.
"What if her last owners neglected her?" He pleads with you, looking you with the most convincing sad brown eyes you've seen in a moment while he speaks. (All while his new best friend bites his finger like it's made out of something positively delicious.) You're in the worst place in the world for this discussion, you think, still sitting at the bottom of that damned staircase. The fact that Yuuji will have won the moment you move into your apartment with that kitten keeps you in place at the price of your pride.
"Look at how fat she is, Yuuji," you gesture to her, and you can't even remember at what point in your heated discussion it became her. "What if her owners love her dearly and are waiting for her to come home? I'm not going to... catnap her."
"What if her mother died and she's looking for a new one?" He keeps asking these stupid hypothetical, rhetorical questions that prove nothing but still annoy you to no end. Not to mention the way he's cradling her in his arms— you have no doubt that by new mother he means himself.
"We already have a kid," you grit out. By kid, you don't mean an actual child, but rather a betta fish that Inumaki dared you to buy six beers deep and who you, unfortunately, discovered you could not return the morning after, nor ever. Yuuji stepped up as his father when you proved to be a little bit too absent as a single parent to him, and he's alive and thriving to this day, albeit in a tank you doubt is quite the recommended size. "What if she eats Fish? He's my pride and joy."
At this, Yuuji stops and thinks. "Aren't Nobara and Maki looking for a cat?"
"I think so," you hum, and tentatively reach over Yuuji's lap to rub your little enemy's stomach.
"Lets just take care of her until they're ready to take her," he smiles at you, tight-lipped and hopeful. "I'll make sure she doesn't eat Fish. I'll scoop her shit and feed her too."
You take your hand back to allow another tenant to pass between you and Yuuji and lean your head against the railing with a sigh. It's a bad idea and you know it. As much as you'd love to think you and Yuuji are ready to take care of a cat, dedicate the time and care it needs to it, you just can't. But if Yuuji says he'll take care of her just for the meantime, you know he means it. "... Alright. But the second she fucks with Fish, she's gone."
As it turns out, Kitty, as you and Yuuji have intermittently named her to match with Fish, is an only slightly worse roommate than Yuuji. If you were to rank everyone in your apartment by how much you all contribute, it'd go something like this— Fish in first place, obviously, for all the joy he gives you and Yuuji, as well as causing the least mess; you in second, for feeding and raising Fish up; Yuuji in third for cooking and paying the bills; Kitty at dead last for shitting all over your comforter on the first night she stays with you and having the audacity to beg you for food come morning.
Yuuji had prepared in every way he could think of— he bought her a litterbox, plenty of food for kittens, a collar (just until Maki or Nobara take her to get chipped), and enough catnip to plant a field. And, for what it's worth, when you’d first brought her into your apartment, just before Yuuji left to buy her supplies, she was an angel. She was the calmest you'd seen her the whole evening, carefully sniffing the floor of your apartment, sneaking up behind corners, checking for any harm that might come her way. So preoccupied with discovering this new, unknown land that she doesn't even acknowledge Fish's existence. It was only after she'd settled in that he ran to get her kitten things.
Naturally, Yuuji didn't think to check if Kitty actually knows how to use the elegant litter box he'd so diligently set up for her in your bathroom, so where you were expecting to sleep in and wake up to your boyfriend peppering your face with kisses, you instead wake up at the asscrack of dawn to the feeling of him jerking your blanket off of you (and the rest of your bed, you suppose), Kitty watching him from the floor with what you can only describe as morbid curiosity.
"Yuuji, what...?" You croak out, wiping the sleep from your eyes.
Then, the smell hits you, and you're confident you're not falling back asleep.
While Yuuji washes your blanket and lectures Kitty on the proper, sanitary way to relieve herself, you sprinkle some food in Fish's tank.
You stare down Kitty, who, in Yuuji's temporary absence, has taken to frolicking around your flat, as if she isn't a criminal, as if she didn't ruin your favorite duvet, and with a glare that softens by the second, you scoop out a can of cat food into a bowl and put it on the floor for her, despite the fact that Yuuji swore he’d take care of feeding her.
For what it's worth, you have to appreciate that, at the very least, she hasn't so much as glanced in Fish's direction. Despite how vehemently you're denying it at the moment, Kitty is, in fact, tearing and clawing and shitting her way into your heart— but if she does come to stay with you for any extended period of time, you'd rather it be one in which you don't have to constantly move Fish further and further away from her reach in order to keep him safe.
Fish, your first and beloved son— an accident, sure, but the happiest you've made in your life. There have been nights where you have been one dry heave away from throwing up your stomach in its entirety, and the only thing that could get you to stand up and drink some water was Fish, blub-blub-blubbing in his own, urging you with bulbous eyes to take care of yourself (because if you don't, you can't take care of him).
He's a selfish child, but all children are, you suppose. It’s their right.
Kitty finishes her food with a satiated meow and barely makes the three-foot journey to your coffee table before dropping down onto her side and passing out. It's an adorable sight, obviously, but one that also reminds you that that could've been you this morning if only she hadn't emptied her bowels onto your blanket.
Yuuji comes back to your apartment, empty-handed and head hung low, and you already know what he’s going to tell you; “Your blanket didn’t make it, babe.”
All you can do is sigh and throw your arms up. “I’ll pick up another one after work.”
Thankfully, after that fateful morning, Kitty didn’t have many other shit-related accidents. It was incredible, really, how easily she managed to fit into your life, how easily she forced you to carve time out of your day to spend with her instead— she sleeps on your couch since you tragically banned her from your bedroom, wakes you up like an alarm clock, consistently, to give her breakfast, and lazes around your apartment in tandem with you and Yuuji scurrying around to get ready for your respective days. You have class in the morning, he has work, and you always come come back just in time to deliver Kitty and Fish’s lunch. You’ve also found that Kitty has a taste in television— she screams at you whenever you put on Rupaul’s Drag Race, out of excitement or prejudice you can’t quite find out, and curls up into a ball in the crook of your elbow whenever you watch Seinfeld. Then, Yuuji comes back from work and if you don’t have plans, the four of you eat dinner together like a bonafide family.
Tonight, you don’t have plans, but Nobara, who has been promising to call you about Kitty for the past month you’ve had her has finally caught you on your phone.
“Of course I want her,” she insists, and you can see her bob swaying along with her head as she jerks it around in your mind's eye. (You love her dearly.) “It’s just… not a great time for Maki and I.”
Maki and I seems to be her favorite thing to say nowadays— you don’t think you’ve seen one without the other in some months. “That’s fine, but me and Yuuji can’t foster her forever, you know,” At the sound of his name, Yuuji whips his head around to see what you’re doing. Once he clocks who you're talking to, he mouths to you to tell Nobara he says hi. “Yuuji says hi, by the way.”
“Yeah, tell him I say hi too,” Nobara sighs. “We’re moving into Maki’s folks’ place, and I don’t know how they feel about cats and stuff.”
“Maki’s folks’ place is so big I doubt they’ll ever even see her.”
"I'm sorry, but can you just keep her until we're settled in?" Nobara asks with a politeness that's very out of character for her. Then again, if you had to live within a mile of the Zen'in compound, you'd be worn out, too.
It must be a sign from God, from Buddha, from the universe, or maybe just fate that before you have the opportunity to mumble out an uncertain I don't know to Nobara, Kitty wraps herself around your calf. She's gotten so big, you think to yourself— it feels like just yesterday she was small enough to fit in your shoe, but over the month you've fed her and scooped her shit, she's become big enough to play with your shoes.
"Yeah, of course," you splutter out. You press your phone against your shoulder and lean down to pick Kitty up while Nobara chatters away in your ear about gratitude and just hum when she asks you this or that. For a moment, just a moment, you wonder if you should be selfish and keep Kitty for yourself. Then you reprimand yourself, because she's still, for all intents and purposes, Maki and Nobara's cat.
Still, as you come to terms with the fact that Kitty's stay in your apartment will certainly be longer than you originally planned, it seems Kitty comes to the same realization— you and Yuuji discover that she's pointedly decided to make herself entirely at home. She was never well behaved, not really, what with the way she'd pounce on Yuuji whenever he fell asleep on the couch, or the way she'd dig her nails into your thighs whenever your petting skills failed to meet her standards, but it seemed that you, at the very least, had an understanding when it came to respecting the space you're all sharing— your apartment. She didn't scratch your couch, didn't spray litter all over your bathroom, and seemed to ignore fish in his entirety.
Now, though, she's picked up possibly the worst hobby of all— knocking shit off of other shit. Pens off of your desk, detergent off of your washing machine, cups off of your fucking kitchen counter. Yuuji, guilty for anything and everything he is physically capable of being guilty for, has cleaned up after her with a vigilance that you feel genuinely bad about. Unfortunately, he doesn't do it as carefully as you wish, which is why you're picking glass out of his hand with a tweezer at one in the morning after he stumbled out of your room to find what you and him had neglected to put away (what Kitty had managed to knock off of a counter) this time and found out the hard way. By tripping on the culprit in the darkness and falling hands-first onto the scene of the crime.
"Are you sure you can go to work tomorrow?" You ask, voice soft, and Yuuji, who has been smiling since he woke you up with a yelp, finally falters.
"I think I'll be alright," he murmurs back. "Nanami won't be happy, but..."
"When is he ever?" You snort.
"He likes Kitty, too."
"You've shown him pictures of her?"
"Of course! I've shown pictures of her to everyone in the department," he grins, and you can picture him, heavy in his uniform, lifting his phone up to his stoic boss' face with a picture of Kitty, asking Isn't she cute? Then him adjusting his glasses before nodding, Yes, Itadori, she's very cute.
You suppose that's the effect Kitty has on people. Yuuji, too.
He's sitting on the edge of the tub, you're sitting on the toilet seat, paper plate balanced on the sink beside you to drop the fragments of glass onto, Kitty passing and curling around your and Yuuji's feet. It feels odd to say it, but he got off lucky in this situation— only a few pieces of glass burrowed themselves deep enough into his skin to bleed, and the rest are just stuck on the surface. Still, you're pretty confident Yuuji's in a lot more pain than he's letting on.
"Really, Yuuji," you huff, "I think you should stay home tomorrow. Just so the swelling goes down and it'll be less painful the day after."
"It doesn't hurt," he starts speaking with his whole chest, but once he clocks the look you're giving him of complete and utter disbelief, his confidence wanes. "... that much."
"I know you're worried about money, but I'm worried about you," you start, and try not to wince with him after pulling out a particularly deep shard of glass. "And besides, if this gets worse because you went back to work too early, we'll have to pay for that, too."
He hums. "I guess so."
You wrap his hand up diligently, pepper his face with kisses, and shoo him away to your bedroom so you can pick up all the glass on the floor that didn't end up on that paper plate. He calls in sick.
You get through your classes like a zombie being pulled along campus by a leash. As it turns out, staying up until the early morning making absolutely sure that there wasn't any glass left on your floor did not prepare you for success when it was time to leave. Still, Yuuji solemnly swore to spend his day focused entirely on healing, so you achieved one little victory, if nothing else.
When you get home, before you can even grasp the doorknob, you hear Kitty yapping away, Yuuji sniffling, and something being shuffled around your living room. You don't know quite what you're afraid of— an intruder, Kitty growing to the size of King Kong, or Yuuji having shrunk of Kitty's height, but after peeking your head into the door, you can confidently say that it is none of the above. You do, however, see the assortment of Kitty's things gathered right by the door.
You step into your apartment, kick your shoes off, and greet Kitty as she practically jumps into your arms.
"Yuuji?" You call out to him, and realize he's in the bathroom, probably figuring out what the best way to remove Kitty's litter box would be. "What're you doing?"
He walks out of the bathroom, eyes red, bandage on his hand freshly, but messily changed, and his head hung low. "We have to give Kitty up," he says, and you immediately clutch her tighter in your arms.
"What're you talking about?"
He just gestures to where Fish is— rather, where fish should be. His tank isn't just empty, it's gone. You realize what happened.
"Did she eat Fish?" You ask. Your voice is calmer than you really are, but you don't want Yuuji to think you're mad at him for Kitty coincidentally killing Fish the one day he happened to stay home.
"No," he insists, and points to a red Solo cup he's placed on top of your bookshelf. "He's there. She... knocked his tank over. I saved him before he could die, but..."
You look down at Kitty, who is similarly looking up at you— it's like she knows what she did, like she knows exactly what your one condition to let her stay is, like she's pushing the rules just to see what you'll let her get away with before kicking her out. But Fish is not dead, albeit traumatized and certainly not thriving in his temporary home. You realize that you think you'd forgive Kitty if she clawed your eye out. You've been denying your truth— denying that you love Kitty like she's yours, because she is— for far too long.
"I-I remember what you said about only fostering her if she doesn't mess with Fish, and I agreed, so—"
"I don't want to get rid of her," you interrupt Yuuji, and his expression goes from distraught to severely confused.
"No," he insists. At first, you were the one who was apprehensive about keeping Kitty. Now, the roles have been reversed. "She messed with Fish. I get it."
"Yuuji," you say, softer, and walk towards him. You look at his hand and realize he must've worked so hard on his day off, to clean up the glass of Fish's tank, to clean up the water, the decorations, the plants, and how scared he must've been that Fish would die. How scared he must've been that you'd be mad at him. You love him too much for that. "We're not getting rid of Kitty."
"We're not?"
"Of course not. Do you want to?"
"Of course not!" He huffs, and makes a face at Kitty that she must not like, because she takes a swipe at him from all the way in the crook of your elbow.
"So... do you want to tell Nobara?"
"Hard pass."
#not edited icl#this stems from my deep dark desire to raise a cat with a himbo#jujutsu kaisen#itadori x reader#jjk x reader#yuuji x reader#yuuji fluff#jjk fluff#itadori yuji x reader
59 notes
·
View notes
Note
plsplspls beggnig for more wyllachstarion theyr like crack to me 😩😩😩 can you do the spooning
Karlach is way too excited for the night to play hard to get with Astarion who spends the rest of the day pretending that he's aloof and not interested in touching her, as if he didn't try to seduce her on their second night together at camp.
Then of course he tried it with Wyll and it also didn't work because Wyll is such a gods damned romantic. And now Astarion is over by his tent, drinking whine and reading a book while definitely not looking over at them. Not even a little bit.
Karlach adores his adorable pouting face so fucking much, it's giving her cuteness aggression.
She's sitting with Wyll—he's sitting between her legs so she can hug him from behind and put her chin on his shoulder. Karlach is brimming with so much joy that she doesn't really know where to put it. This is literally the best thing. She is hugging her boyfriend and she can kiss his cheek without giving him burn marks and he's leaning against her as he throws a ball for Scratch who keeps excitedly bringing the ball back to them.
Karlach thinks she could die happy right now.
Well, it would be even better if Astarion was over here as well, but she's sure that he'll come around at some point and there's no sense in pushing him round. It takes time and Karlach understands.
Yes, she wants to go fast, fast, fast, but she gets that not everyone can go as fast and burn as quickly as her. For now Karlach can revel in how Wyll's skin feels against hers, how his hair tickles her cheek, how soft Scratch's fur feels under her fingers whenever she touches him and how exhilarating it is to press kisses to every inch of naked skin she can find on Wyll right now.
One of her fingers slowly makes its way along the waistline of Wyll's pants to feel the coarse hair leading from his belly button down into his pants and she can hear him suck in a breath. It makes her smile so wide.
Fuck, this is the best.
She nuzzles her face into the side of Wyll's throat and breathes in—gods, he smells so good. Like sandalwood and woody smoke. Karlach doesn't know what Astarion smells like yet, but she wants to learn. She hopes he'll let her.
When she glances over to where he's sitting his eyes are on them and gods, they're like bright burning embers, glaring holes into the two of them snuggled over there. Karlach chuckles into Wyll's skin.
"He's looking, isn't he?", Wyll asks and turns his head to press a kiss on Karlach's cheek.
"Yeah", she breathes. Wyll laughs quietly.
"Do you think he'll let us...?", Wyll asks, trailing off. Karlach hums. She doesn't want to get too hyped up about Astarion joining them for the night but man, she wants it so much. She wants to hug him, touch his hair, kiss his insane cheekbones... Fuck.
"I dunno. But fuck. I really want to."
Wyll swallows and nods slightly.
"Yeah. Yeah. Me too."
They go to bed without Astarion who keeps glaring holes into the sides of their heads the entire evening while pretending to read his book and Karlach that it wouldn't help to invite him over. Astarion is like an angry cat who needs to sniff your metaphorical hand at least a hundred times before pushing his head against you.
Karlach can wait. She can do it.
She spoons Wyll and almost cries again with how good it feels to hold him like this. There's no way she can sleep. She has to revel in how this feels. And if her arm falls asleep it doesn't matter because there's no universe in which she'll let go of Wyll.
Wyll on the other hand is fast asleep in her arms, his ass pressed against her crotch which. Well. She can live like this. She can be normal. Karlach tries to concentrate on other things instead when she hears quiet footsteps approaching the tent and then the flap is opened and cold air sweeps in.
Karlach doesn't have to turn around to know who it is.
"It's fucking cold", Astarion complains without saying hello or anything else. Karlach chuckles and gently detaches herself from Wyll who makes a soft, sleepy sound.
"Our little grumpy cat is here", Karlach whispers and Astarion huffs full of offense.
"I am not a grumpy cat", he hisses, proving her point before climbing into the space between Wyll and Karlach. Karlach can tell that this is new for him. He moves stiffly, clearly not knowing what to do or how to act which makes her heart break for him.
Gods, she will cuddle this man so fucking much. As soon as he warms up to the concept of nonsexual intimacy.
"Do you still need to drink?", Wyll asks, his voice bleary from sleep. Karlach can feel the pause in Astarion's body, the moment he thinks about this question and what it means—what it implies.
"I had a bear", he mumbles and flinches as soon as Karlach presses against him from behind, wrapping her arm around him to pull him close before doing the same with Wyll so they're all pressed together as close as possible with Astarion in the middle.
He's not moving, maybe he's scared to.
"If you want you can have some of mine tomorrow. Dunno if it tastes okay, though", Karlach offers. Astarion doesn't say anything but Karlach doesn't mind. She presses a soft kiss to the back of his neck and hears him suck in a breath.
"Alright?", she asks, not sure if she overstepped.
"It's fine", Astarion mumbles, a million underlying tones in his voice. Karlach kisses him again and again, touches his soft curls and walks her fingers up his arm. Only a few moments later his breathing evens out and Karlach smiles against his back.
Yeah, she's not going to sleep. She has to savor this for as long as it lasts her.
feel free to send me more of these <3
#kissing you with tongue anon <3333#wyllachstarion#bg3#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii#bg3 fic#astarion ancunin#karlach cliffgate#wyll ravengard#mi writes
49 notes
·
View notes
Text
not a study in scarlet
Works-Not-In-Progress 2/∞
So sometimes the best inspiration for fic is spite. But then sometimes we I don't actually write the spite!fic, because wtf, I don't actually know how to plot a mystery?
so please enjoy this nonsense instead. (Yes, I did put Toby in my collection of evidence photos/moodboard, mostly because I love Toby, but also because I love Magnus and cats. Yes, there's also a Paget illustration and cigarette ash, and NYC stuff because NYC is legit a character in Shadowhunters, even more so than London is for Holmes imo, and there's a pentacle for Magnus' magic and an archery target for Alec, and idk, I have lost my train of thought here?)
ANYWAY: spite!fic
Once upon a time, I ran across several Sherlock AUs for Shadowhunters in a row, and every one of them had Magnus Bane as Sherlock Holmes and that is, just. Not Right.
Like! I understand the impulse, when trying to translate soldier and power dynamics and etc. that you'd put Alec in the Watson/respectable member of society role, and Magnus 'never met a question he couldn't deflect with a smile' Bane in the vaguely incomprehensible detective role
But I counter!
WHICH of our heroes is in fact:
socially adept
extremely skilled at his preferred profession even though it comes up less often than one would expect in canon
has a completely incomprehensible romantic history
is ride or die two seconds after meeting someone because they are both smart and pretty
hates war and conflict (has been grievously wounded by same and yet always keeps going)
and yet, is in fact deeply petty and ready to throw down at the slightest provocation
can effectively (metaphorically) murder someone with a look or a phrase
can also literally murder someone but usually doesn't
is incredibly loyal but hates to admit it
is very compassionate and incapable of not helping someone in front of him (unless you have previously landed on the grudge!list, see above re: incredibly petty)
is perhaps the world's MOST unreliable narrator but no one ever calls him on it!
That would be Magnus Bane, and that would make him Watson, sorry, Watson is deeply unhinged but fakes it so well that people think he's the sane one.
AND THEN, of course, for Alec/Sherlock, he:
has only made a good first impression one single time in his life, but it was the time that mattered
is brilliant and tactical and very few people are able to keep up with him (and yet almost no one appreciates it, they're all, oh when you put it that way it's obvious, even tho none of them could do it on their own)
is abrasive in company; he's CAPABLE of walking the fine line of polite behavior and proper etiquette he just thinks it's stupid
(he will tell you to your face if he thinks you're an idiot, but if he needs to, he'll do it in such a way that you don't realize that's what happened until much later)
clearly has a traumatic backstory he does NOT want to talk about
partly given away by how aware he is of the way people around him can be hurt/persecuted whether anyone else wants to admit it or not; he is good to people no one else bothers to believe
has less than no patience for perceived stupidity in the people around him who ought to know better and will yell at them to get out of his way so he can do their jobs better than them
(unless he has taken responsibility for you and then he is delighted to explain every possible way he can make things better regardless of whatever you did that might have exacerbated the situation)
effectively intimidating when called for
effectively violent if that didn't work
secretly a marshmallow and if you tell him you like him and he did a good job he probably won't actually cry but if you know him well you can tell it was a close call
So yeah, pls enjoy jilly's unhinged Holmes feels despite her complete inability to write a Holmes!AU in fic?
#jilly wnip#moodboards instead of writing#shadowhunters#sherlock holmes#spite!fic#idk now to tag this nonsense#weirdly I do NOT actually ship holmes/watson#I like them more as platonic lunatics always in search of adventure TOGETHER#(aka very like parabatai)#but obviously in a shadowhunters au they would be together#because malec#is my eternal weakness#john watson#alec lightwood#magnus bane
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Dog House
Day 15 of @taznovembercelebration and I got "playlist"
Read below or on Ao3. Missed yesterday? Catch up here.
-
"Taako?"
Music thuds out of the kitchen, loud, bouncy, and accompanied by the sweet scent of vanilla and spices wafting in the air.
"Taako?" Kravitz tried a bit louder.
Nothing.
There is absolutely no way for Kravitz to compete with ‘Bake, bake, bake, bake, ba, bake it’ and be heard. He knows, he’s tried before. The volume is an important part of the process.
Although... Maybe that will actually work in his favour. Kravitz pulls out his phone, juggling the warm lump in his arms to do it. It’s worth a try, if nothing else, Taako would see the funny side.
He hits record and smiles lovingly into the camera. "Hello love, I'm just here at the house and I have something big to ask you." There's no reply from Taako.
"If you don't reply, I'll assume it's okay, but can we get a dog?" The music thumps away in the kitchen.
"Specifically this dog?" Kravitz readjusts slightly to get the pomeranian into view. "He's very fluffy."
"Okay, well, as I haven't heard anything from you, I'm assuming this means Fluffums can stay."
Fluffums' tongue pokes out adorably and he flops his sweet head to the side. Kravitz can't resist planting a little kiss on it.
"That's the name he came with by the way. Magnus… well, you know. Anyway... I'm glad you..."
"Magnus did this?" Taako says from behind his right shoulder.
Fuck.
Kravitz should have known better than to assume he'd get away with this, Taako always knows somehow, but also, he'll kill or die for this dog… Well, be sulky about it if Taako says definitely not because obviously two yesses is important, but maybe he can live in the Astral Plane part time again, Taako’s really into this sleeping stuff. Fluffums licks his hand reassuringly.
Kravitz smiles as innocently as he can and stops the recording… Maybe if he edits it down Taako’ll forget that he heard the last bit? He didn’t say anything when Kravitz said to anyway - you couldn’t object to a wedding three months later could you? Probably not. He’d have to look it up before he used that as a defence, but it sounded solid.
“Magnus didn’t do anything. He just showed me Flu…”
“No. We’re changing his name.”
“But what if he…”
“He doesn’t. He’s not attached to it. Taako is not calling anyone Fluffums.”
“Even m…”
“Especially not you… Unless you ask nicely.” Taako breaks his serious face to smirk at Kravitz and goddess damn it all if that doesn’t still make him want to kiss Taako stupid.
He has to concentrate though, he can win this. He just needs a compelling argument.
“Look at his little face.” Kravitz elevates The Dog Formerly Known As Fluffums to eye level with Taako. “See.”
“Yip!” Says No Longer Fluffums in the most charming tone (even if Kravitz does say so himself.)
And, it’s only a split second, the smallest of glimpses, but he sees the softness in Taako’s eyes.
“He needs a home, somewhere safe.” Says Kravitz.
That argument’s how Taako got all the cats here.
“And what about the ca…”
“He loves cats.”
“But couldn’t eat a whole one?” Taako tries to look stern, he almost manages it.
“Taako! He would never.”
“Mr Mittens is going to fight him.”
“Mr Mittens fights everyone.”
“Not me.”
“Well of course not, you’re perfect, Mr Mittens fights everyone else.”
There’s a long pause, then Taako stares intently at The Dog Who Couldn’t Be Fluffums, the dog stares right back, pink tongue poking daintily out of his mouth. Kravitz wants to snap a picture, but he really shouldn’t ruin the moment and he’s already taken so many…
Taako wrinkles his nose. “He’s not sleeping on the bed.”
Kravitz can sleep on the sofa once Taako is asleep and sneak back to bed before he wakes up, that’s completely fine.
Kravitz nods seriously.
“He can’t climb on the furniture.”
Kravitz isn’t furniture. Ergo, if he was sitting on the chair then anything sitting on him wasn’t on the chair. That was just science.
“That seems fair.”
“You need to do all the research on how to look after him.”
Taako says that like he thinks there’s a chance Kravitz hasn’t already done an intense Googling session at Magnus’. Like he didn’t stop at the pet store on the way home. Like he hasn’t already rifted everything they could need and more into his closet.
“Of course I can do that.” He pauses, waits for any other conditions, but none come, Taako must love him. “Does that mean we ca…”
“Yep.” Taako tries to look ambivalent, he fails.
It’s not that Kravitz ever really thought Taako would say no, but it’s nice to have official confirmation.
“What do you think of Fluffernutter?” Taako asks suddenly.
“Conceptually, or?”
“For him.” He nods towards Kravitz’s armfull of dog.
Kravitz considers it for a moment, he’s definitely fluffy and sweet, peanut butter is nice, he’s nice. Kravitz likes fluffernutter, he likes the dog. “Yes. I think that’s right, love.”
Fluffernutter nuzzles happily at the crook of Kravitz’s arm as Kravitz draws Taako into his free arm. “I promise to still love you just as much.” He says, grinning over Taako’s head.
“You’d better. Cha’boy refuses to lose out to anyone.” Taako’s hand strokes idly at Fluffernutter, the dog nuzzles his hand and wiggles towards him.
Kravitz gives it a week before Taako’s the favourite. It’s okay, he’s Kravitz’s favourite too.
-
I hope you enjoyed! Wanna see the next prompt? Find it here.
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
you ever play a roblox game thats story is so good and so fruitful that you wanna make fanart but literally no one else Cares about it so.
the game was called "life purpose" and it went from a trolley problem to a guy burning down his entire village, so. 10/10 game i recommend it
tw for: heartbeat sounds, feeling of being watched, one (1) jumpscare, murder, blood, war, depression, psychological horror (?), religion (mostly buddhism and talk of rebirth and that stuff), it switches from third person to first person for the Spook sometimes (mostly in The Cave)
ahh god nevermind im just. im gonna talk about this under the cut Just. spoilers for the game if you wanna play. it took me around 30 - 45 minutes (i didnt really have a timer so it mightve been less/more idk) its Really good
^ the link. okay imma ramble about this game. play it for yourself if you wanna not get spoiled cuz imma about to do a play by play
--- IF I GET THE TIMELINE WRONG I APOLOGIZE!!! ---
okay okay so. it starts off with a trolley problem. this red ball thing (imma call him Red from now on) is here, telling you that "oH whAT a cLASSIc tRolLey prOblEM !! :)" and theres 4 people on one side, one on the other. you, the mc, cant really move anywhere, theres invisible walls. Red keeps going on and on about how this guy, the one guy, is such a loser, and nobody likes him. and oh, hes a serial killer, so he DESERVES to die, and oh, Red changed the body of the one guy into a more curvy body (im guessing male to female, congrats on the transition) and is all like "😳 i bET yOu doNT wANNa pULl tHE lEVer nOw" and then at the end, when Red is done explaining how this guys a loser and nobody likes them and theyre a serial killer yadda yadda yadda, he then goes "You have no choice. Pull the lever." and then you and the mc are forced to watch the guy plead for their life, as the train squashes them.
but good news! it was just a dream. :) he awakes in the afternoon in his cottage, on top of the hill. he looks down below at the village, monologuing about how hes alone and how the villagers probably hate him. the mc then says he wants to go to the cave. this is where it gets spooky.
he gets down to the cave. as you go forward, the perspective shifts to first person, and the movement slows. you get down to the bottom, to see a body hanging from a rock. the mc says "he got what he deserved". he exits the cave, now nighttime. the villagers are shooting fireworks. he sleeps, disgruntled.
Red is here again, and we are now in the barracks. a line up of soldiers and one of them is looking over the edge. Red then says like, "oH thIS gUy iS verY hOPEfuL" blah blah blah (sorry Red i dont really wanna paraphrase everything you say) and then the guy gets shot in the head and Red laughs about how he falls in a weird way. and then all the soldiers charge and you are forced to just... stay there. Red mocks you for that.
the mc wakes up. checks the cave. a woman has found the cave. he decides he need to kill her. he chases her, but the woman is too fast for him. he checks the house she ran into, and oops! both you and the mc get jumpscared by a cat. you cant find the woman anywhere. we then go home and sleep, anxiety building.
another dream. the mc is in a room, thats a jail. a guy is laying on the ground, kinda out of it. Red says he was framed, but he'll die because the "good" people thought he was a "bad" person. hes been in the cell for 9 years. "hE is aLIvE, buT heS bEeN dEAd a LONg tIMe" <- Red wtf does that mean. the cell then breaks, revealing three statues; a buddha, a cross, and the kabba (Buddhism, Christianity, and Islam). the screen fades to black after a couple of seconds.
a buncha stuff happens. The Spooks increase. i dont remember much for this section, it kinda just blurs together, sorry. but i do know that there were black roses that kept whispering threats, giant heads that smiled at you, and the moon was a giant face that was too scary to even describe. ughhh i hated that. i hated the moon face >:( but it fit! it fit the story!! oh and also the mc killed a monk in his dreams before that.
cut to the mc talking to his dad on a bench. they talk about life, its purpose, and then like, at the end of the convo the dad is like "what did you do after i passed away" and the mc lied and said he did good. then it cuts again, dad gone and the village burnt down, with everyone dead. Red is here, in the real world, and they talk about starting over. Red, despite loving chaos, agrees that the mc should be better. they agree to travel to a new village, where theyll be good this time. screen fades to black.
the end. :)
can you tell i loved this game. i didnt tell you NEARLY enough about this game, but if youre okay with psychological horror and a weird red energy ball calling you a loser, i think its Great!!! (also me he/him-ing Red is purely the vibes i got from Red, i dont think that thing has a gender)
#miles per hour#long post#really long post#stares at the screen. i wrote so much for this game does anyone even care lol
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thunderstorms and Thieves - 6k Words
One stormy night, a Bandit wakes a Sheriff with a knock at his front door, and they don’t talk about what happens after.
A03 Link
"It's two in the morning, Martyn. Why are you at my house?" Jimmy says, giving his least favorite bandit an exasperated look. A loud knocking on his door had woken the Sheriff up early in the morning. Safe to say, he was not pleased to find the knocker to be Martyn, instead of someone else he actually liked.
"I just stole like, ten pounds of gold from Stratos," The Bandit says, two very heavy looking sacks being held in both his hands. They seemed to be weighing him down quite a fair bit, his shoulder hunched downwards with their weight. The Sheriff has to wonder how he carried that down a floating island and all the way to the mesa. "Mind if I hide out here?”
The rain is also pouring, Jimmy might add. So it makes him look even more pathetic and soaked, like some kinda soppy stray cat left out to die. Almost like Martyn had made it rain himself, because he knew it would tug on the Sheriff's heart strings a little. Maybe that's why he stole from Stratos, to make a thunderstorm happen.
"Stealing from Joel is really funny," Jimmy begins, eyeing Martyn up and down. He's going to make the conversation as long as possible, just so the other blonde can get more cold and miserable. As cruel as that may seem, and how wrong it may feel. "But you're also a wanted criminal in my town. I should arrest you right here and now.”
"The jail is open at two am, innit it?" Martyn mumbled with a sigh, clutching his bag of gold tighter. His hair was plastered to his skull by now, and Jimmy was starting to feel slightly bad. Which meant the criminals' dastardly plan was working, dammit.
"Yes. But I don't want to walk in the pouring rain." Jimmy says, moving out of the doorway where he had been standing. "So I guess you can stay 'till mornin’ time.”
"Oohhh~ getting to sleep with the Sheriff. How lucky am I?" Martyn smirked, leaning forward a bit more. And subsequently had the front door slammed on his face. It was far too early, or perhaps late, for all of that.
Though a minute later, he opened the door again, the Sheriff's empathy having overridden his common sense once more. And seeing Martyn still standing there, even more soaked than before, well that wasn’t helping. Damn the rain and his sense of right and wrong, damn them both.
Jimmy moved out of the doorway again with a heavy sigh, knowing he'd probably regret this come morning time. “C'mon.” He mumbled, and led the bandit into his house. The blonde also mentally prepared himself to have all his valuables stolen when he woke up again, thrown right in the bags with all of Joel’s taken gold.
Martyn follows behind him after a bewildered second, his movements a little cautious. And as soon as he steps in, there is water drenching Jimmy’s nice wooden floor. He should have been anticipating that really, with how hard it was raining, but he still internally groaned and grumbled over the wet wood and the possible water damage.
“Let's get you a few towels, yeah?” Jimmy says over his shoulder, already walking into the living area. He hears the click of a door behind him, and a few slow footsteps after it. Like Martyn can't believe he'd got what he asked for. Like the Sheriff would actually leave him out there to get rained on and get sick and whatnot. He wasn't that heartless, now was he.
“Yeah…” Martyn mumbles out a response, setting his two bags of treasure down with a low thunk . Jimmy ignores the sound, and whatever other noise his guest makes, and heads towards the bathroom. He figures he'll need at least four towels, with how drenched Martyn and with how heavy the rain was falling. So he grabs as many as he can, and heads back out to the living room.
When he returns, Martyn is standing right by his stolen goods. He hadn't moved an inch, likely not wanting to ruin any of the Sheriff’s furniture. Or the rest of his floor. Jimmy walks over, silently relieved that his couch has stayed dry, and wonders just what he's going to do with this criminal come morning.
“Here.” He says, handing Martyn one of the towels. Before the other can even respond, he's already placing two more on the floor around his feet, hoping it does something for the now soaked wood. It probably won't, and he'll probably have to inspect his floor later, but a man can hope.
“Thanks.” The Bandit replies, clutching the towel in his hands for a second. He seems awkward, standing in Jimmy’s house late at night. The Sheriff can't blame him, he knows he would be off put if the roles were reversed and he was in Martyn’s house. They are kinda enemies, after all. Kinda being the keyword there. They don't act like a Sheriff and a pesky criminal are supposed to, and both men are very painfully self aware of that fact.
Neither of them say anything, as the thief starts to dry himself off. They just let the awkward silence and the sounds of rain fill the space as Martyn begins to move. The first thing he does is remove his boots, a gross squelching sound accompanying the motion. Jimmy cringes at it, and hopes there isn't too much water in there. The blonde seems to reserve a towel for just that, soaking up any water in his shoes, before moving onto his wet face coverings. The masks that usually covered his face were just as drenched as the rest of him, and had to be uncomfortably sticking to his face. Distantly, the Sheriff wondered if the other was even comfortable showing his whole face around him, and finds that question will be answered as soon as he asks it.
Martyn slips his mask off, well, er, his masks . There's one covering his eyes, which is the first to be removed. It's the one he only wears on occasion, when he's not thieving locally. The authorities in the mesa know to look for him, regardless of what he wears on his face. The other mask, the one hiding the bottom half of his face, is the mask that never comes off when he's on the job. And Jimmy can't help but stare when he slips it off, and throws it on one of the wet towels below.
He's never…..he's never seen Martyn’s full face before. It's quite a pretty face, even when only slivers of it are showing. And the full thing is absolutely gorgeous. His face looked soft and plump to the touch kike the rest of him, his rounded yet sharp features seemingly perfectly molded to fit him. Like the blonde had been sculptured by a God themselves, one that wasn't stuck on floating islands. Jimmy would be lying if he said the wet hair, falling right onto Martyn’s face, wasn't adding to the effect.
Lord this man was pretty. He was so, so fucking pretty. The Sheriff couldn't stop himself from staring just a bit.
Martyn noticed him staring after a minute, drying his wet hair best he could with the towel he'd been lended. “What?” He asked quietly, glancing up. They made eye contact, and the Sheriff felt his breath hitch just a little bit. His eyes were very blue, and very nice to get lost in.
“N-nothing, let’s just…” He mumbled, face burning, forcing his eyes away from the criminals and back to the floor. “Let’s just get you dry, okay?”
Martyn raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment on how red the Sheriff’s face must be. “Okay.” He mumbled, running the towel he was holding through his hair once again.
Jimmy cleared his throat rather awkwardly, then backed away a bit. “I'll…go get you a change of clothes.” He explained, heading back towards the bathroom. His bedroom was right next to it, and he made a mental note to snag an extra towel on his way back. Just in case.
“Okay, thanks again.” Martyn says, muffled as he finally starts to dry his face. Properly this time, more than just slipping the wet and gross fabric off his face.
“Don't mention it.” He calls over his shoulder, and disappears into his room for a few minutes. He digs through his dresser for a lot longer than intended, all his old and now unused clothes a little buried in the drawers. But he does find them. And eventually Jimmy walks back out, another towel in his hands as well as some gray sweatpants that are far too big for him and a faded t-shirt. He thinks it was a cream color at one point, but now it's turned into some weird off white color after years of use. He hadn't worn it since he became Sheriff, now always wearing his work uniform, and was sure Martyn wouldn't mind the band clothes. His other option was soaking wet, after all.
“You can get changed in the bathroom.” He says, handing the clothes for the bandit; once their face to face again that is. Martyn has left the drenched towels on the floor in the neatest pile he can, while being dried off the best he can. His shirt has been unbuttoned somewhere in the process, and is showing some of his chest. Jimmy tries not to stare, and keeps his gaze pointedly fixed on the other’s face.
“Yeah, okay.” Martyn hums out a response, reaching down to pick up the drenched fabric from the floor. He doesn't quite know what to say, and the Sheriff doesn't either. So he lets the other man scurry off in silence, dry clothes and wet towels alike clutched in his arms as he goes ro get changed. Jimmy watches him go for a few moments, before turning back to the rest of the room. There's still some stuff to handle in here as well, even with the perpetrator gone for the next few minutes.
There's still wet floorboards and bags of gold to take care of, but Jimmy can really only do something about the latter at the moment. So that's what he does, temporarily alone in his living room and the rain still falling outside. He crouches down, and opens the bag of gold. It needed to get sorted sooner or later, and now is a pretty good time to do so. The blonde might even be able to return some of the riches to Joel and curb his anger a bit, if he's lucky.
He tips the bags on their sides gently, ears flicking as the treasures inside them clink with every movement. Martyn might’ve been right with his estimate of ten pounds, both bags required a good bit of effort to push over. Nothing too strenuous, but enough to make him wonder exactly what was in there. And there was only one way to answer that question as well.
He retrieves a few pieces of treasure from the first bag, inspecting them before setting them to the side. If he's going to sort through this much stolen gold, he's gonna need an organization system. Especially since of the few things he pulled out, half of them are far more valuable than their counterparts. He wonders how the bandit got all this, and where he even went to get it. Stratos wasn't a small empire by any means, and hard riches scattered across all its upper islands. Either the elf knew where the vault was, or he was really good at stealing from multiple buildings in one night. Both of those options seemed very likely, knowing the man's track record and his rather impressive lock picking skills. (Which I'd why Jimmy wouldn't have taken him to the jail anyways, because he'd have to sit in there all night to make sure the prisoner actually stayed in his cell. )
“What're you doin'?” Martyn asked, now standing in the doorway once more. He had managed to walk out of the bathroom unnoticed, probably because of all the sneaking around one of his jobs required. Jimmy looked up in surprise at the sound, and nearly dropped the gold he was currently holding.
Martyn stood there, somehow snug in clothes that shouldn't fit him. He looked…. nice in the Sheriff's stray t-shirt and sleep pants. He looked really nice actually. Enough that Jimmy had to stop himself from staring. Not to say he didn't look good in his normal outfit, no, Martyn looked good in practically anything . Jimmy felt his cheeks starting to turn red again, and had to look back to all the gold scattered across the floor and towels. He could think about why the Bandit looked so good in his clothes later, when he didn't have pounds and pounds upon stolen goods still sitting in his house.
“I thought I would sort through the gold.” Jimmy explained, separating another small pile of it with his hands. “Try and return some of it, to get Joel off your back a bit.”
“Thanks.” Martyn blinked, sounding surprised at the last bit. Like the Sheriff would never help him with his crimes. And yeah, he was a criminal, but he was one of the few people that hated the Sky God with a passion. And those people gotta look out for each other, in Jimmy’s mind, to keep each other from getting struck by lightning. Or maybe that was his poor defense for actually liking the bandit. Just a little bit.
“Lemme help you.” Martyn says after a moment, crouching next to the Sheriff. Close enough that they could touch, if they really wanted too. Jimmy feels their tails brush for a minute, and hesitantly flicks his own away. The bandit says nothing, just opens the second bag of gold and gets to work. He seems to have already understood the Sheriff’s organization method, quickly tossing the items into their correct piles. Jimmy blinks, a little impressed, and decides to get back to work. They can't get this over with quickly if he just stares all day, like some kind of idiot. And the staring would probably make Martyn uncomfortable, which he doesn't want, if he wants the other to stay in his house. Not that he wants Martyn to stay over, no, never that. He would just…..feel bad if he kicked him back out into the worsening storm. Yeah, yeah, that's all.
The two of them sorted through the stolen goods in near silence for several minutes, the sound of the storm outside becoming a nice ambience. The rain beat down in the windows, seeming to pick up in its intensity. Jimmy has to wonder if Joel has already discovered the crime, or if he's still asleep. If he has, then the storm is truly getting worse. If he hasn't, then it will worsen before dawn and maybe continue its anger into the next day.
The God of the Sky wasn't very pleasant when crossed, and the Sheriff had plenty of first hand experience and needless damage to his town to back that up.
The gold was sorted into three piles. The first was for plain ole golden coins, ones used for paying people with. The second was for actual treasures, the things embedded with diamonds and other gemstones. There was a fair amount of jewelry in here, jewelry the Sheriff is sure Joel never wore, so he wondered just what exactly the God was doing with all of this, other than just letting it sit around and collect dust probably.
The third pile was a miscellaneous pile. Anything that didn't quite fit into the previous piles went there. Any damaged coins or trinkets, ones that weren't worth much anymore, were the main contents of the pile. Plus any item they were unsure about. This pile was definitely going back to Joel, and he didn't even need to ask Martyn to know that. It would probably be the only pile left unstolen from as well, unless the thief sees something shiny or cool looking in the scarps that he wants.
There's quite a few things in here Jimmy himself will be keeping, at least until Joel comes storming by. Items Martyn probably didn’t mean to steal, based on their appearance. And he finds one in the first bag, buried under more coins than the Sheriff’s ever seen in his life. For a brief second before he finds the item, he truly considers pocketing some gold all for himself. He thinks about taking a couple hundred and then blaming it on Martyn, because he knows the God would probably believe him, his hatred for theft stronger than his distaste for the Sheriff. But the thought causes guilt to shoot through him, even if he is stealing from Joel , one of the richest men in the world, and he has to put all the treasure back in its correct pile. Before he does something he truly regrets, since letting a known criminal into his home apparently isn't one of those things anymore.
“This isn't Joel’s” Jimmy says into the silence, after picking up a small pedant; the item that's buried under all those coins he kinda wanted to steal. It was made of gold, like the rest of the treasures were, but in the middle was a small H. And there was only one person on those islands to whom this thing could belong too.
“Oh,” Martyn says, catching sight of the small necklace in Jimmy’s hand. Guilt flashes across the bandit’s face when he sees the small H in the pendent, and he frowns. Martyn won't steal from children, a fact the Sheriff mentally notes down for no particular reason at all. “I didn't mean to steal from Hermes.”
“Figured.” Jimmy says, separating the pendant from the other three piles. That's the fourth pile now, in case something else of Hermes’ had ended up in those two bags. Which is a real possibility, because he knows half of this stuff is from at least three different floating islands. “I'll keep it, and give it back to Joel when he comes by.”
Martyn goes back sorting with a question, his tail now comfortably resting closer to his side. “How do you know he'll come by?”
“Because he knows you live here, and will accuse me of stealing. Or sending you to steal it.” Jimmy says, already imagining the things he'll be called come morning, right as the stolen goods pass through his fingers. Heh, if Joel knew about this, they'd both get stuck to hell and back by lightning. Probably. Especially if he found out about Hermes’ pendant.
“Fair point.” Martyn huffs, having sorted about one third of his bag by now. Jimmy is momentarily surprised at his speed, and then remembered the life he lives and how many bags of treasures he's probably had to sort through while on the run. “I thought you didn't like his kid, though.”
“I'm not gonna steal from a little kid.” The Sheriff flicks his ear, annoyed for a very brief second. He thinks Hermes is an annoying little brat, but he won't steal from her. He's like, not even ten. And if Sausage gave him that pendant, then that's another emperor he would have pissed off in taking it. And both Joel and Sausage are already scary enough on their own, nevermind combined. “I'm not that mean.”
He changes the conversation topic with a huff, giving Martyn an inquiring look. “Why'd you steal from Joel anyways?” He wants to know why the puny, bandit mortal is picking fights with the local God, other than shits and giggles.
“Because he's an asshole. No one deserves that much gold, especially not assholes.” Martyn mutters grimly, sounding like he has personal experience with some rich assholes. Jimmy makes a mental note of that, and files it away for later. “I don't like how he vandalizes the town either.”
“You know those are all targeted at me, right?” Jimmy asks, raising an eyebrow. He sorts through another handful of golds, pushing it to the side and keeping it far away from Hermes’ stuff.
“Yeah. And?” Martyn raises his own eyebrow in turn, sorting more gold into the second pile without even looking.
“...Nothin’.” Jimmy mutters, feeling the way his breath hitches a little. He decides they're done talking for now, actually, lest he get even more flustered than he already is. This gold won't sort itself after all, and talking just slows them down. He ignores how Martyn is near halfway through his bag when he thinks that, and he's just got to the one third mark with his. Yep, talking sure slows them down. Yep…
They keep sorting in silence, listening to nothing but the falling rain and the clinking of sorting coins. The Bandit begins to hum a steady tune to himself, and Jimmy could not help but work to the beat. It certainly made everything go a lot quicker, so much so that he didn't even notice the other man had finished sorting through his bag. The elf there for a minute, looking at the piles of his loot, before he makes up his mind and turns his attention to the Sheriff.
“Lemme help, it'll go quicker.” Martyn mumbled, scooting over. Scooting a lot closer . Like enough that the two men were near flushed against each other. And Jimmy was being very normal about a pretty man sitting mere centimeters away from him. He's very, very normal about it, thank you very much. Totally not red in the face or anything….
“...Okay.” He said, ear flicking a few times. Martyn just gave a nod, grabbed some gold, and started sorting. Jimmy tried to do the same, but found the task had suddenly gotten a lot harder, all thanks to the elf presence. How close they were….closer than they'd ever been. For a fleeting second, the Sheriff dumbly wonders why he was feeling all this stuff and getting so flustered, over Martyn of all people. Then he remembers how the other is dressed at the moment, and suddenly understands all over again, another trinket being sorted into the pile as he does.
Their hands kept brushing as they worked, and Jimmy tried his damn best to ignore it. It was pretty hard after all, since they were sitting side by side and working together. But Martyn never said anything, only occasionally hummed to himself as he sorted through who knows how many pieces of gold. Jimmy tried to help best he could, even in his flustered state. He wasn’t able to do much, with his current state of mind and also how fast Martyn was with this whole sorting thing. It feels like the blonde did most of the work actually, for both of them, which bothered the Sheriff just a little. He didn't really like being unhelpful, or deadweight, but there wasn't really anything he could do about it. Plus he was far too tired too, considering it was probably nearing three in the morning now. Maybe even four, with how long they'd be at this and how much golf they'd had to sort.
It seems, as they finish going through the bags, that Joel has finally become aware of what's happened. It took him a good few hours, but still. Outside, the rain gets even heavier, and it sounds like hail pounding against the window. The God has to be right pissed then, to make the storm that much worse. Suddenly, thunder sounds off in the distance, making the Sheriff jump a little. Martyn’s reaction to the noise, however, is a lot more intense.
The Bandit jumps, dropping the last pieces of gold he's holding and scattering them all across the floor. His tail curls in, and his pointed ears flatten back in what has to be fear. The Sheriff gives him a surprised blink, and scoots a little closer before he even realizes what he's doing.
"Are....are you okay?" Jimmy asks, hesitantly reaching out. He didn’t touch Martyn, but lingered a few inches away, in case doing so would scare him even more. The blonde wasn't sure if that was a normal reaction to random lightning, or something more serious. Though he felt like it was the latter.
"Yeah I just..." Martyn mutters shakily, clearly trying to steady his breaths. "I just don't like thunderstorms…” He runs a hand through his probably damp hair, like the action is grounding or comforting to him. Jimmy scoots even closer, resting his hand a mere inches away from Martyn’s other one, the one still resting by the lingering pieces of gold.
"Oh, okay.” Jimmy mumbles. The bandit seems surprised by his easy acceptance, like he expected to be called dumb or childish for his fear. It’s the surprised glance he gives Jimmy that really gives it away, and Jimmy decides he won’t have that. Still being scared of storms is very valid to him, especially when you're regularly upsetting the God of the Sky.
“I'm still freaked out by dogs.” He offers, hoping it provides some kind of comfort. Martyn blinks at him a few times, puzzled, as he begins to shuffle the gold he’s taking (which is most of it) into the bags. Only the things for Hermes’ remain untouched, and a few hundred to a thousand, give or take. Jimmy had still pocketed none for himself.
“Why?” The bandit asks after a quiet moment, seeming to realize what the other is trying to do. It took him a good few minutes, but he got there eventually.
Jimmy shrugs, watching as the two bags become full of Stratos’ gold one more. He wonders how much money is truly in those bags, and if Martyn had really hit the jackpot like he appeared to have. “Dunno, just never liked ‘em. Especially the big ones.”
“And now you have cats.” Martyn noted, halfway done with his work already. The Sheriff half wonders if they’ve lost a few pieces of gold to the floorboards, or if any were lost to the rain. He sleepily wonders if there’s a trail of gold leading Joel right to his doorstep.
“Yep. They're probably hiding from the rain.” He mumbles, a small giggle escaping him. His two cats, Norman and Flick, were very silly little things. They also hated rain, like Martyn, and would probably emerge from their hiding place as soon as the storm was over, begging to be fed and played with.
“Neither of them are scared of me?” The bandit says, curious. It makes sense why he’d think the cats were scared of him, since they hadn’t seen hide nor hair of either of them since the blonde had arrived. Thinking about it, the Sheriff had barely seen them since before he originally went to sleep, as they were being skittish that day. Maybe they'd sensed the upcoming storm…
“Nah, they're pretty friendly to people. Not dogs though.” Jimmy says, remembering how friendly his boys were. It wasn’t unusual to see them hanging around town, or his office, getting all the pets and attention from anyone they could while the Sheriff was hard at work. The spoiled little things they were…but they were his number two and three deputies for a good reason. And it wasn’t just the fact that they were cute, Jimmy sowre that up and down whenever anyone asked, and he wasn't going to stop insisting that now.
Martyn giggled at that, but is promptly interrupted by another loud clap of thunder. The elf jumped once again, tail flicking wildly behind him, and it sounded like he cut himself off from screaming. Jimmy’s eyes widened, and he moved even closer to the other out of concern. Thankfully, all the gold was now done being sorted, so none had gone flying when Martyn jumped this time. Thankfully, the Sheriff thought as the elf pressed against this side, their work was done and they could finally rest. Maybe spare Martyn some feat and sleep through the rest of this storm.
“You can sleep on the couch, if you'd like?” He offers after a few minutes of sitting, the two men pressed together, now that the gold is all put away and the bandit’s nerves are starting to calm a bit. It’s late, raining, and would probably benefit both of them if they went to sleep now.
“Y-Yeah, that would be-” Martyn stammers, and is cut off by a loud strike of lighting this time. And after seeing how he reacted for a third time, after seeing the way he jumps and his whole body goes rigid with fear, the Sheriff knows he just can’t let him sleep on the couch like he originally suggested. He can’t leave this poor man to face his fear alone, especially with the extra knowledge that a pissed off God (who also hates the both of them, no less,) is causing it.
“Nevermind.” Jimmy sighs, grabbing the Bandit’s hand. Martyn startles at the touch, but lets it happen. He leans into it, actually, if Jimmy isn't imagining things. “I can't just leave you alone.” He manages to pull them both up from the floor, and ignores the way the elves face turns a bit red at his strength. That's one of the million other things from tonight he'll have to think about later, it seems.
“Thanks..” The blonde mumbles, letting himself be pulled towards the bedroom without much complaint. Which was a little unsettling actually, because this was the type of thing he'd make some inappropriate joke about. Maybe reprise his earlier remark about sleeping with the Sheriff and how lucky he is. But Martyn says nothing, and is perfectly content to stay silent as they enter the bedroom.
It's a bit awkward at first, when both of them sit on the bed. But the storm makes another noise, lighting or thunder Jimmy couldn't tell, and the bandit jumps once more. Next thing both of them know, Martyn’s pressed himself up against the Sheriff in his temporary panic, looking for anything that was warm and comforting. Apparently, Jimmy was the latter thing to him. Another thing he could think about later, after the night was long over.
Jimmy makes a comforting humming sound, because if Martyn thinks he's comforting he's going to be so, dammit. The Bandit is curled into his side, kinda like a cat, ears flattened from the loud sounds of the storm outside. Without either of them noticing, his tail ends up tied with Jimmy’s, and the Sheriff doesn't care when he does notice. It's actually kinda….nice, being this close to Martyn, regardless if the others fear. He wonders if the blonde thinks this is nice, and if it would nicer on any other night. A normal one, without stolen gold and a raging storm, a night just for them to spend together alone.
“Any reason why you're scared of thunderstorms, or….?” He mumbles, resting his cheek against the other’s head. He's tried and ready to go back to sleep, so the bandit will have to be a good pillow for the next little while. He does have work in the morning, after all, like he has every day….
“I just….always have been since I was little.” Martyn hums. He sounds throughly rattled, and tries to get closer to the Sheriff with every loud noise. Noises that are probably louder for both of them, due to being hybrids and having better hearing and all that stuff. Jimmy knows the thunder and lighting hurts his ears a bit, and can't even imagine how loud it might be for poor Martyn.
“Mm, okay.” He mumbles in response, eyelids starting to droop as he once again remembers his own childhood fear of dogs that'd stuck around. Yeah, Jimmy could feel his brain shutting down, and the rest of his body begging for the sleep it probably really, really needed. Which was the Sheriff’s sign to start slowly laying the both of them down, Martyn still snugg aganist him as his own head hit the pillow. “Try to sleep?”
“Yeah, I'll try.” The bandit mumbles, and stays tense for the next few minutes. And Jimmy know he won't be able to sleep if Martyn can't, and just lays there upset on his arms. So, after a little hesitantion he starts running his fingers through slightly damp hair, an action that he hopes will calm both of them down, and lull the two gently into sleep. Normally, the Sheriff doesn't think he'd be doing any of this, but it's like, three am and he'd gone to bed late. He's functioning on an interrupted four hours of sleep, and doesn’t have the brain capacity to think why being so affectionate with Tumble Town’s most troublesome bandit might be a bad idea, actually. That , like a lot of other things, sounds like a thought and a problem for morning Jimmy.
Thankfully, maybe due to the touch, Martyn relaxes despite the roaring storm outside. His breathing slowly but surely evens out, and before Jimmy knows it, the blonde is fast asleep beside him. Sleepily, a smile forces its way onto Jimmy’s face, and within the next minute or so, he’s fallen asleep as well; fully comfortable in the presence of a criminal. (He doesn’t mind it, he finds as he drifts off, even though he should. Something about this one is very, very different, he thinks. In a good way, a way he wants to cherish and keep close, despite everything. Despite all the stolen gold in his living room….)
__________________________________
In the morning, the Sheriff wakes up to the two of them tangled together. Sometime when they were sleeping, Martyn had ended up laying his head on the cow’s chest. He’s sound asleep, and snoring gently on top of it. Jimmy holds back a noise of amusement at that, and spares a glance at the window. The storm has calmed since they went to bed, and it seems to be past sunrise already. He doesn’t feel very well rested, not after his early morning interruption, but he’s awake and has stuff to do today. Feeling well rested is a luxury for a certain type of people, and Jimmy has never been one of them.
He starts to sit up slowly, feeling a little guilty for dislodging the person on top of him. Martyn barely even wakes up at the movement, most likely tried out of his mind from the previous night. He just snuggles closer to Jimmy, clinging onto him like a damn koala clings onto a tree, and buries his face back in the Sheriff’s chest. The Sheriff just makes another amused sound, and shifts again, hoping it would wake the bandit up this time.
Thankfully, that is finally what rouses Martyn from his slumber, though he doesn’t stop holding onto the Sheriff like a lifeline. He murmurs something into Jimmy’s shirt, something all bleary and unintelligible, and a surge of fondness goes through the Sheriff’s chest at the sound. Maybe he does actually like Martyn, just a little bit.
“Good mornin’” Jimmy mumbles quietly, pressing a quick kiss against his bandit's forehead. He feels his cheeks burn a little, and kinda wants to do it again.
Martyn doesn't notice the affection, too focused on snuggling even closer to the Sheriff. If that was possible. And he was probably too out of it as well, considering he woke up only a few seconds ago. “Morning….” He mumbles back sleepily, reaching up and pressing his face into the crook of Jimmy’s neck.
The blonde lets out a huff of fondness despite himself, and absentmindedly runs a hand though the others hair. “You gotta get up, I have work to do.” He mumbles into Martyn’s hair, already starting to shift the other off him.
Martyn makes a mumble of protest, putting a bit of a whine into his voice. The Sheriff had no idea he was this clingy before today, and was already thinking of how he could weigh this over the bandit in the future. In case he tried any of his more extreme shenanigans around the town. “But I'm tireddd.”
“C'mon, you know Joel's gonna be here by noon. And I can't get caught with a criminal in my bed.” Jimmy reasons, now properly sitting up. Martyn slides off him with a grumble, but doesn’t protest. He seems content to just lay in the sheets for a few minutes longer, still blinking the sleep away from his eyes.
“As far as that God and the people are concerned, I'm the bartender right now.” Martyn mumbles, his blue eyes meeting the Sheriff’s own for the first time that morning. There’s a small smile on his face, and the cow hybrid can’t help the warmth he feels upon seeing it.
“There's bags of gold in my living room.” He points out, gently poking the bandit on the forehead. Martyn scrunches up his nose in response, and makes yet another attempt to snuggle closer to him. Jimmy resists the urge to roll his eyes, and makes another point he’s pretty sure will work. “Fwhip's coming over at nine.”
“ Fine.” Martyn huffs, sitting up instantly. His own distaste for the deputy was enough to get him up, just as Jimmy suspected it would be. He wasn’t sure why the elf disliked Fwhip so much, but it was working in his favor right about now. The blonde is moving off the bed before even Jimmy is, his feet hitting the floor with a dull thud. The Sheriff watches him, curious, as Martyn prepares to leave for the day.
“I’ll get the gold and be gone in a few minutes.” Martyn says, doing some quick stretches. Likely in preparation for all the distance he'll have to cover with those bags in toe, even if Jimmy’s sure it's not a hard task for a bandit of his caliber. “Cover for me? When Joel comes by?” He fixes Jimmy with a look when he's done speaking, one the Sheriff knows he couldn't say no to, not in a million years; even if he was already going to agree in the first place. He kinda wants to get lost in it, if the blonde's being honest.
“Of course.” Jimmy nods, stretching a little himself. “You can keep the clothes by the way, I don’t wear them anymore.” He adds, once again finding himself flustered by the bandits outfit. He shoves the thoughts down as quickly as they come, and tries to focus on going along with his morning.
“Oh, thanks.” Martyn murmurs, sounding surprised. He slowly begins to shuffle towards the door, looking like he doesn't know what to say after last night and the last few minutes; now that their not as sleep deprived and bavk in their right minds. Which is understandable, there's a lot of things Jimmy wants to say as well, but doesn't know how. He really wishes he had the words for it though, because he felt important. He wonders if Martyn does too. “Well…..see you later.”
“Yeah….see you later.” Jimmy says, watching the other leave. He can't help but stare as the elf retreats, and the bedroom door shuts behind him. The sounds of moving fills the quiet house, the cats having yet to emerge from their hiding places. Or they hadn’t decided to be vocal yet, one of the two. More than likely, one of them (probably Flick) was intently staring at Martyn from some hiding spot and watching him leave, like the little weirdo he was.
There's the sound of the bandit shuffling around in the bathroom, probably retrieving his other clothes. Other clothes, because Jimmy’s old ones were now his. Judging by the sounds, he then moved into the living room, and started to carry his two bags of stolen gold out. The Sheriff had to wonder if Joel would even miss all that gold, or if he was just gonna make a fuss about it just to fuss. And throw insults at his two least favorite people, but that's a question for later in the day. Right now it is morning, and everything feels oddly still and somber as Martyn leaves his home. It's also far too quiet, but Jimmy makes no effort to change that. He doesn't know what sound would be appropriate to fill the silence. And so no one else, human or cat, made a sound as the house's temporary visitor departed.
Jimmy hears the front door click shut as he stands, and almost wishes he'd kissed the (his) bandit goodbye.
#ron.fic#jimmy solidarity#martyn inthelittlewood#mirror birds#solidwood#trafficshipping#empires smp#bandit au#empiresshipping#empires smp s2#martyn littlewood#martyn itlw#inthelittlewood
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
from a journal found on a fallen Shanian archer
Most of the 'glorious Shanian army' are serfs and were never trained to fight. They gave clubs to those who didn't bring a staff to fight with. (I am a lordson, but as the youngest, I was pressed into service, but I brought a bow and a sword. The sword I gave to someone else of good character, but whose staff was already cracked.) Those who survive battle are encouraged to pick up weapons and armor of the fallen. I am very grateful for the weapons training I received as a child; as a bowman, I am allowed to keep distance from the enemy. I have survived three assaults on the Green Wall. Only two other men are still alive from the group I came in with, Aaron and Tisdale, both slingers. Many of the men here are criminals, and serve here as punishment. Imagine that, my fate the same as a common criminal.
The northern front along the Green Wall is terrifying. First of all, there's the Tortles. These gigantic creatures possess speech and intelligence, yet possess the claws of beasts, AND are ferociously strong AND are essentially covered in half-plate armor. Second, the Lizardmen, aren't much better. Their scales can deflect arrows and blades, and their mouths are maws of razor-sharp teeth. They're monsters, too. I've witnessed Lizardmen *eat* men alive. Some can even spit acid. Third, there's the Frogs. They cover their weapons and arrows in a poison that makes your heart stumble and often stop entirely. Lastly, the Marsh elves are very different than our own. They're not dark skinned, but are instead pale with brown hair, and they can just vanish. I've seen Marsh Elves disappear in the rain, as if melting into the air itself. And some of them can grow their fingers into talons that melt your flesh and leave terrible scars. Our commander has one such a scar across his face.
I've heard rumors of cat people, but I've never seen one.
I'm going to die out here, I just know it. I wonder if my soul will be destroyed if one of the necromancers turns my corpse into a zombie. I try not to think about it.
Sometimes I think the Monsters have built the forward towers just for us to have something to do. The towers have archers and wizards atop them, shooting at us through killing holes. And by the time we capture one, everyone inside has disappeared.
They're wooden, but we never use fire on them. Maybe because fire spooks our flesh golems. I hate the golems. They look like giant people but their eyes are dead. Not-People. The clay golems that watch over our camp aren't so bad; they just look like statues. But the flesh golems are clearly made of dead men. Our own men. The golem wranglers handle them and repair them with lightning. They're tremendous on the battle field, I admit. I've seen them actually kill Tortles and Lizardfolk, literally tear their arms off, but still... they send shivers down my spine. Geoffrey, who's been here for much longer than me, said he saw one go berserk once. It started killing everyone close to it. So that's the rub, you're more likely to survive by staying close to the killing machine--so long as it doesn't freak out and can no longer tell friend from foe.
This is pointless. We almost never even get to the Green Wall, and it's never been breached. Even if and when our catapults damage a section of it, its mostly repaired by the time our men can get there. The earth erupts in front of us as they charge, causing the men to stumble and fall. You have to run through the mud, because any patch of grass near the wall can come alive and hold you in place for their javelin throwers or archers to pick you off. When the fog appears, you run. Marsh Elves are invisible in the fog and can gut you like a fish in an instant. And the Frogs hide in the fog, too, with their poisonous arrows.
I swear the monsters must have trap doors and underground passage-ways like they use in the theatre. I need to talk to the Commander. Maybe he'll listen to a Lordson.
#d&d story#dnd#dnd campaign#ttrpg podcast#dnd podcast#dnd shenanigans#dnd stuff#thosenaturalones#podcast#butch's blog
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
this got too long for the tags, sorry op you just get this up here now. Anyway, do yall wanna know??? Yall wanna know?!! GET READY HERE IT GOES
background: I, college aged adult, live with my parents and younger siblings. The economy is in shambles okay. I’m glad though because it means I was able to help out with this nonsense.
January 2nd starts with driving my grandma to a faraway hospital for foot surgery. Stop to see her husband Pop (she is in memory care and he won’t move out of their house) HE IS SICK AND IN KIDNEY FAILURE. Meanwhile at home, two kittens go into heat a month early and are peeing around the house. We have to install a pee watch cause if they get on the carpets, it is the literal end of the world. At 11 pm, we pick up a cat cage for them to spend the night in, we can’t get a vet appointment for a couple of days but at least that’s earlier than we hoped for. Meanwhile, we have to force Pop to go to a hospital by calling an ambulance on him. He was literally two seconds away from dying surrounded by his own pee filled diapers. That’s the 2nd day of 2024 and it only gets worse from there.
the rest is under a read more cause it got too long, just like this year
hospital visits hospital visits hospital visits, rehab, physical therapy etc etc etc. We can't let Pop go home now that we’ve got him out of the house or else he'll never leave again. He can’t live alone and he lives over an hour away from us. His house is also a hoarder nightmare we’ve been trying to clean for 5+ years. In March, we finally move Grandma into a memory care closer to us, they say Pop and his 2 cats can move in with them (we had been searching for the last five months for an affordable memory care to take them both- if he could ever manage to convince him to move + cats).
Now, Pop is 90 years old (a fact he is fond of saying) and ready to die (a fact he is also fond of saying) so he makes vaguely threatening suicidal comments (which he has in fact been making for the past 50 years). Memory care freaks out and says he needs a psych eval before he can be admitted and IF HE IS they can still kick him out anytime cause he does not have an official dementia diagnosis (bc he hates doctors). Pop is also pretty much deaf and refuses to use hearing aids plus he has a catheter in (because of the kidneys) so extra fun times. Now, the memory care place tells us to take him to the ER for a psych eval. We get there at 2 pm bc this literally happened MOVE IN DAY. At 2:30 am, we finally return home and since pop has no place to stay and we have no room he sleeps on the couch in our living room. Father HATES this. I could understand at this point. He is a neat freak and pop is unequivocally not. He is the exact opposite. He's Pigpen from Charlie Brown.
Anyway, A WEEK LATER, memory care says ok he can come in. Over this uncertain week, we have come to terms with the fact that they could kick him out again at anytime for anything + pop has an aversion to doctors and hospitals + this will be a living hell for him. Like the man hasn’t been to a dentist in over 50 years and pulled his own teeth out rather than go to see them, he is DETERMINED. We make the decision to finish the basement. It is the only spare room we have available and finishing it would make it livable for a 90 year old man. Plus, with him helping to pay for it and if we budgeted really well it should be possible THIS IS STILL MARCH, LIKE MARCH 25TH, THE YEAR HAS BARELY EVEN BEGUN YET.
We ask uncle (oldest son of pop) to help as he is only other living nearby sibling. Uncle is handy man so can help with basement and thus help pop save money since he is also paying for wife/grandma memory care. He says yes. His wife and our SIL is also like my father. She is a neat and control freak. Pop goes to stay with them while we begin construction mostly bc we have to fill the living room he’s sleeping in with stuff from the basement. My bedroom is in the basement, so I move out of it out and sleep with my littlest sister- who sacrifices graciously with little complaining about the invasion of her personal space. Our SIL on the other hand makes our lives hell for the next two months, constantly complaining about his presence and not being able to do stuff she wants AND that we are taking her husband from her, who btw only came down to our house seven days total to help and that was spread over weekends across about two months. This is all done in passive aggressive fashion over group texts?!?!? Uncle is a really great guy but overestimates how much we can do ourselves. We have to finish with contractors but still got a lot done, thank you uncle, plus we learned how to diy drywall and mud. We still paint the basement ourselves to save money, finish in 3 blistering days and I ache in every way imaginable BUT. JUNE. IT IS FINISHED IN RECORD TIME. Pop is in the hospital again (since around the end of May) bc of an infection. When he is discharged, we take him back. We get his catheter out after a prostate shrinking op, which is wonderful! No more pee on couches from the occasional faulty catheter leaking.
Meanwhile, we have been cleaning out their house, trying to find what is actually salvageable and meaningful in their hoarders nest of a house cause we need to sell it to keep Grandma in memory care cause that is PRICEY. Pop isn’t a perfect house guest but if you leave handwritten notes or ask him not to do things he will comply (like we had to ask him not to clean what little remains of his teeth out with toothpicks in the living room and to not then spit the food bits??? Onto the carpet??). Gentle reminders and wordless gestures pretty much communicate well. He is also always saying thank you and making funny jokes which more than makes up for the downsides. Sometimes he has fits of old man temper, as he is 90 now, but that is to be expected. His brain is going and he is no longer quite the Pop we once knew and loved. Father doesn’t get this and is constantly seething about what how filthy he is. Familial strain is at an all time high because these are the grandparents his children love immensely because they were a) always willing to help- like Pop literally wired our house and b) were always around and always helping us and c) very loving and doting grandparents. However, bc of father's discomfort, we decide to ping pong Pop back and forth with uncle and SIL (they have a massive house and much older kids all moved out except one) theoretically every six weeks. We also finish cleaning out their house as much as possible and sell it. Lots of crying. This is the only house they’ve owned, as dirty as it was, they lived there for sixty years. Mom grew up in it. I practically grew up in it. It’s gone now.
August 16th we send him to uncle and SIL so we can have a break. Our family has given up a lot, especially mom who stopped her part time job + helping out at church + doing things she loved. Shoutout to my mom actually for being the best daughter in the world, I cannot compete. We all just need a minute to breathe from this.
But two days later he’s broken his hip at Uncle and SIL's house. We coordinate hospital operations and get him into a rehab near us. Then move him back in. Since both me and Pop now sleep in the basement, I spend these months sharing a bathroom with him and helping monitor his health. I sometimes wake up and, hearing that he isn’t coughing, go to check on him and make sure he’s alive.
September 16th, Grandma is in the hospital after a fall. After a lot of consultations, it is found that she needs to be on hospice. She doesn’t have long. We spends the next few weeks visiting her a lot and taking pop to see her.
October 8th. Grandma dies. We have to tell Pop. We coordinate and plan her funeral.
December, we need a break so we cautiously send Pop back up to stay with uncle and SIL. Pop has a doctor's visit almost a week and a half later so mom goes with SIL bc she is basically his medical manager and SIL doesn’t really know much.
We've known that his heart could fail at any time and that they could fix it with a surgery (which pop wouldn’t want. He has remained adamant that surgeries are not an option for him, he only got the prostate op done cause it wasn’t invasive at all). There is also a minimally invasive operation for his heart that might give him longer to live, but he needs his teeth fixed first. That will never happen and pop would not want it ever. So, our only option is, he needs to go on hospice. He also needs a short hospital stay (because his heart can’t pump properly so his lungs are filling with fluid, which will eventually kill him if the fluid isn’t sucked out periodically. He is drowning on dry land, it’s horrifying). SIL tries to dump him back with us because of this, she does this without asking or saying explicitly just by bringing all of his overnight stuff back to our house. Uncle simply comes down himself a couple days later to get pop from hospital and his stuff from our house. I am privy to more family drama than I have ever wanted to know.
Anyway as of today 12/31, he is still alive and well and due to come back to our house early on the 1st so uncle and SIL can go on a family cruise. I say Pop for 2k25, he can do it!
THINGS THAT I FORGOT:
-grandma was constantly in and out of the hospital bc of falls cause she forgot she was wheelchair bound and tried to stand
-having to find our grandparents cats a new home which almost didn’t happen and was a huge source of stress because for a time we were afraid that we'd have to give away these sweet creatures to a shelter
-constantly having to drive grandma to wound care that was an hour away because of her foot operation
-in December we also helped my oldest brother move from his apartment to a house and painted his living room and bedroom in three days bc we have painting experience now 💪
-the kittens refusing to stop licking their incisions from their operation and absolute refusal to wear cones and us scrambling to find a solution for that. They hated it but they didn’t lick the glue off and we got to take pictures of their misery so ha


-one heart stopping twelve hours where we thought one of our cats got rabies but he just got out and ate a bug. apparently cicadas can make your cat foam at the mouth PSA everyone
-I finally found another job and I started school back up
-my mom was so stressed her body decided to screw her over and give her vertigo for a few horrible weeks where she couldn’t drive anymore
So TLDR; 2024 was not my year
and grandma and pop I’ll love you forever

#funny#i guess it’s very funny really if you think about it#fiji ramblings#happy new year#i am throwing 2024 out the door#YOU CAN STAY OUT FOREVER DONT COME BACK#2025 pls#We need this#Also why I haven’t written any fanfic for a year#And barely posted#This is where I’ve been guys#tw death#tw medical#i guess???#I feel like this is too much gross medical info for some XD#but also not really anjsks
32K notes
·
View notes
Note
One word: torn
~gk
Ken groans and swipes a hand across his gritty eyes. Cheddar mews worriedly beside him, but his free hand remains glued to the bed. A chill cuts through his bones, and he shudders violently. Even under three blankets and Cheddar's comforting weight, the bedroom is freezing.
If it's so cold, then why is his hair damp, his entire being slick with sweat?
It all started a week ago. He'd been tired, but thought nothing of it. Work has been busy. Exhaustion is normal for humans, right? Then came the tickle in his throat, the heaviness in his chest. The cough hurt, but none of it was unmanageable.
It wasn't supposed to spiral out of control. Work and life don't stop for colds, right? There weren't any shoots scheduled; it'd been editing week, so why shouldn't he go to work? He likes going into the studio. There's something calming about being the only one in the building, in putting on his work playlist and focusing. No television to distract him, phone on silent mode, no temptation to stop every thirty seconds to play with Cheddar.
The studio is a safe haven. A home away from home. But the hours can get long, self-care nonexistent. The tickle in his throat soon turned into a sharp, stabbing pain every time he swallowed. The headache pounded behind his eyes.
And the tiny, annoying cough soon turned deep and rattling, chest searing with pain every time he dared to take a deep breath.
Lungs crackle and ache with every breath. Is that normal? He doesn't think so, but he stopped trying to figure it out when WebMD told him he had lung cancer. But a cold doesn't do this right?
Colds don't normally cause fevers. So why is his temperature 102.5?
Ken slowly opens his eyes, wincing against the bright light, and sits up. The action sets off a coughing fit, and for a horrifying moment, he wonders if he'll stop breathing. He hasn't been able to breathe for days. What if this is it? He tries desperately to focus on the weight on his legs, Cheddar remaining a steadfast companion. He's all alone here. Colt's in Atlanta; Sundays are Barbie's self-care days. He'll choke and die and he'll be all alone and don't cats eat their humans after they die?
Okay, get a fucking grip. The fit passes, and he slumps against the pillows. The apartment feels lonely. He's always prided himself on his independence, hard won after decades of reluctant dependency. The illness is unknown, but it's definitely not a cold. He can barely drag himself out of bed to feed the cat. There are weights crushing his entire body, making it impossible to move. Turning over the wrong way sets off a coughing fit.
He can take care of himself. He doesn't need help. He's been managing just fine, hasn't he?
Ken chews on a hangnail and glances at his phone, torn. Old anxieties start to creep to the surface. Colt can't help, but Barbie can. What if she gets annoyed? What if she resents him for needing her again, when he's been doing so well? After becoming human and building himself from nothing, after Patrick and rebuilding his entire life, this is what does it. An illness that everyone else can probably handle, but he can't. Worthless, useless, overly dependent. Can't you do anything by yourself?
Ken shudders at the sound of Patrick's voice. It's been over a year since his escape, but the ghosts still linger. It's been hard to sleep with his feverish mind constantly replaying the worst parts of that relationship.
Maybe with Barbie here, sleep will be easier. He won't be alone, and someone will look after Cheddar. He glances down at the orange furball curled up in his lap. She's helpless and relies on him for everything. Someone has to take care of her.
That makes it easier to pick up the phone. He's not asking someone to help him. He's asking someone to take care of Cheddar. It's different.
Barbie picks up on the third ring. "Hey, you. I've been worried about you. You keep declining my calls."
Ken swallows and immediately regrets it. There's another coughing fit brewing. If he doesn't spit the words out now, they'll never come.
"Barbie? I need help."
1 note
·
View note
Note
Ask ya back 24, 41, 67, 76, 105
Yippee!! Answer under cut
24. How does your Tav feel about Mol and her friends?
Briar super doesn't care. She didn't meet Mol at the Grove because she just ignored all of the children entirely. She was too focused on "get this tadpole OUT" to talk to pretty much any of the tieflings because she just didn't care. For some reason (I think because she didn't stop Rolan from going to Baldur's Gate on his own?), none of the kids besides Mol made it to Last Light. When she does talk to Mol she lowkey likes how much spunk the kid has but overall has no strong feelings one way or the other.
Molli however LOVES the kids. She accidentally pissed Mol off at first by walking into the hideout (then Mol lied to guards and got Wyll arrested it was funny af), but Molli wins her over when she's nice to all the other kids and saves Arabella and Mirkon. Molli thinks Mol is a smart kid with a big heart who just needs to find a better outlet and to stay the FUCK away from Raphael. Kinda reminds her of her sister. She would die for those kids.
Ferox has no idea how to act around the kids. He doesn't trust himself around them. He's worried that Mol is going down a bad road that's gonna get her into a lot of trouble someday.
41. Which way did they take? Did they run into Elminster? What was their opinion of his news for Gale?
Briar took the underdark because OF COURSE she did. She didn't even go back and do the creche. Ran into Elminster without Gale in the party, which is very very funny because he uses nothing but $10 words and a solid 30 seconds to ask "Do you know Gale?". Briar hates Elminster so so so much for the same reasons she hates Gale and honestly would have tried to just walk on past but someone else let it slip that they do, in fact, know Gale. She spent the whole conversation between Gale and Elminster wishing she could kill both of them, if not herself. She super does not care about Mystra's order for Gale. Glad they won't have to feed him magic things anymore. Thinks he had better not detonate that thing at a time that's inconvenient to her. Briefly starts idly fantasizing if there's some way she can use this to murder a whole bunch of people at once.
Molli's path choice was a little more complicated. She and the party all agreed that the underdark sounded like the better bet, but she also needed to go do the creche first. After things at the creche fell through, she went back down through the underdark, hoping that it would have a path directly to Moonrise. Molli was star struck meeting Eliminster and didn't mind him mooching all that cheese because that's *Elminster* (and also because she would do the same thing). Soured on him a bit with the Mystra stuff though. Like she knows it's not *his* idea, but she thinks that he was too accepting of Mystra's command as reasonable. She refuses to accept that Gale blowing himself up is the only way. There's GOTTA be something else.
Ferox's gonna do the mountain pass and probably avoid the underdark entirely unless something compels him to backtrack. He'll think Elminster is a little pompous and presumptuos. He's gonna be more accepting of Mystra's order though. He thinks it's bullshit and that gods *shouldn't* be able to command that kinda thing, but also that she's not *wrong*. If a god says that they'll need to blow up the Absolute to beat it, it might end up being true. It's sad that Gale would be the price for that, but war and battle has its prices.
67. Does your Tav meet Tara? What's their opinion?
Pfffff Briar met Tara, immediately recognized her as Gale's cat he wouldn't shut up about, and then deliberately scared her off to be a bitch.
Molli hasn't met Tara yet, but even if she doesn't do it the official way in game, I want her to stumble across Tara somehow anyway. Molli likes Tara, thinks it's charming to see her treat Gale like she's his mother.
Ferox would honestly think that it's a little weird that a *cat* is acting like Gale's mom. He just can't get over the fact that she's a *cat*. But fine whatever he won't judge.
76. Does your Tav tell Dame Aylin about Lorroaken? Do they help her fight him?
Briar let Shadowheart kill Dame Aylin... she rolled up into Lorroaken's tower, told him "lol that relic you wanted so bad is super dead k bye" and then robbed him blind.
Molli is definitely gonna help kill that mother fucker.
I haven't decided for Ferox yet. It'll depend on which way Shadowheart ends up falling. If Dame Aylin survives Act 2, Ferox is definitely killing Lorroken though.
105. Anything you want to say about your Tav! Give a random headcanon, answer a random question, say whatever you want!
I am SHOCKED that I haven't gotten an opportunity to say favorite food anywhere so I'm gonna do that. Briar likes fried chicken hearts (or, you know, just hearts in general), Molli likes baked brie with jam, and Ferox likes grilled leeks and dwarf meat.
1 note
·
View note