#he makes me want to change my diet (to worms)

[spacebetweenheartbeats]

to all the boys i loved before: two

he was my classmate. he was one of my best friends. he was also my first love - still is.

dear ayush bhatt - where do i start with you?

i will do my best to write about him, to make you know and love him as much as i did, but forgive me if i fail to do so. he shines as bright as the sun - and i might be unable to capture his brilliance with my words alone.

i met him seven years ago, in fourth grade, but we only talked two years later, as two ambitious sixth graders hoping to achieve great things in this world. despite belonging to the same section, and the same friend group, we'd never talked before. shocking and unbelievable, but true.

we sat together at school, and we quickly became the best of friends; we were both witty, shared a lot of interests and i thought he was one of the most charming people i'd ever met - still is. i'll never get over how quickly he wormed his way into my heart, even if as a friend.

he quickly became my best friend - he was smart, and kind and was willing to listen. he probably didn't understand much as to why i was so worried about the way i looked or my diet at age eleven, but he'd listen. and that's what i wanted. i wasn't looking to be judged or given advice, i just wanted someone who'd let me ramble for hours.

somewhere between the shared lunch hour and the whispered conversations to avoid being caught by the teachers, i fell in love with him.

if you've ever heard the quote - 'i fell in love with him the way you fall asleep; suddenly, and then all at once' - it would be apt for my situation at the time.

i don't even know how he wormed his way into my heart, but he did. i'm willing to bet it wasn't even that hard for him - he probably just smiled at me the way he always did, like we had a secret nobody else knew, and i fell.

i kept quiet throughout the year, of course - it was 6th grade, and everybody was confessing to their crushes. if he had rejected me, i don't quite think i could have dealt with the fallout and the ruination of a friendship i held so close to my heart.

and then we got shuffled, and we stopped talking.

we both made new friends, and our promises of remaining friends and eating lunch with each other and exchanging books soon fell by the wayside. we drifted apart - while we still said hi and exchanged small talk, our previous closeness had been eroded. he had new female friends, i had new male ones.

it was ok. i dealt with it the way you'd deal with a handicap - by ignoring it and working your life around it. i stopped going down shared corridors, choosing to go by the longer path - stopped going to the basketball grounds because i knew he's going be there, excelling as he always did at basketball. i hid away in the library, or in corners of the school nobody frequented.

in 2020, i made the decision that i would put him behind in my past and leave him as nothing more than a good memory. and then the lockdown hit.

the lockdown in india made it a lot easier to strengthen that decision. there were online classes, and we didn't see or talk to each other during that two year period. for all purposes, ayush bhatt and mira harris were no longer, and had never been anything.

when schools reopened for tenth grade, he wasn't the first thought on my mind. he was maybe the fiftieth or sixtieth, no one's counting. and then i saw him at school, and it hurt.

he'd grown taller - before, i was taller than him, and always made fun of him for that - and while his height changed, his smile hadn't. it was still beautiful, and it still bewitched me and made my heart ache for the things and time i'd lost.

i saw him around after that - we assumed the relationship of two acquaintances who were friendly enough with each other. every time i saw him, it would feel like somebody kicked me in the gut and the air had left my lungs and i'd have to start taking deeper breaths because i didn't want to cry in front of him.

i didn't have to worry about that after a while - the board exams happened, and we stopped talking completely. no time to - we were constantly studying, and revising and trying to do our best. we both did well, of course - he scored a 100 in math and 93.8% overall, and i got 94%. and now i've left school for fiitjee (derogatory), and he stayed back at school.

where are we now?

i know you probably expect us to have stopped talking completely. this is supposed to be a post about the one who got away, a boy i used to love before and miss to my heart's content.

but we haven't.

we still talk, over emails. ridiculous, but true - it takes nearly two weeks for him to respond to any of my mails, but he does reply. we talk about our lives - four years ago, i used to know a lot of things about him. i know that he got into playing chess, got sucked into the iit dream, and got a girlfriend. now, he knows quite a lot about me; my depression, dislike for MPC and the little things that make my life worth living.

i don't think he knows he's one of them.

i love him even now. he'll never know i loved him, or still do - to him, i will be a casual friend he drifted away from, and nothing more than that.

he's a little like the sun. he shines so brightly, i can't even look at him without flinching - and he's not mine to belong to, because the sun belongs to nobody. i don't regret any moment of it - i'd do it, live 2018 all over again if god let me.

maybe i will meet him in person again. maybe in another universe, i'll fall just as hard as i did in this one.

i love you. i'll find you in another universe.

[luckys-rw-rats]

Rain world ocs #2

Another batch of rw ocs, this one is gonna be slightly longer since I got stuck on the Noodle Lizards and I really wanted to include them in the second batch, but this post is probably just gonna get longer I continue so,, Spoilers below; ranging from mid game to the end of the dlc.

These will not be in creation order this time since I have honestly forgotten the order and even tho I can check it, there's so many guys here that I will not.

Base by DuoTrauma, design by me. The Generator (Battery) was created by Wilted Leaves to do small tasks. It was not marked to avoid it being noticed by other iterators, with one of their first tasks being to steal a rarefaction cell from his group senior, Rickety Bridge. Battery was successful in this task, tho afterwards it failed to do any missions it was sent on due to the communication barrier, and eventually WL got feed up with them. He merged the stolen rarefaction cell with the slugcat. The Battery survives this, tho their now in constant pain and on a timer. They can end their story by ascending, or burning up to the power of the rarefaction cell.

Next up is The Fetcher, another one of Wilted Leaves' creations. An in-between of the miros bird and miros vulture, Fetcher was created to bring creatures to WL. They were specifically made to bring WL Companion, tho it was used to bring other creatures aswell (with a successful catch being Battery). Its beak is much more controllable than on other miros species, allowing it to not kill its catches.

Another one of Wilted Leaves' creations; Echo Mimics. Not much to them story wise, they're just a sub species of vultures that resemble echos and emit gas that causes hallucinations.

Design by Five-Pebbles, with a small redesign by me (the tail spear). The last of Wilted Leaves' creations (for now); The Stinger (Liar or Angel). The Stinger was created with the intention of luring Spearmaster closer to WL's structure so that Fetcher could bring it to him for blackmailing purposes. But Stinger ended up becoming attached to SM and ended up becoming another one of SRS' pets.

A slugcat created by SRS for Stinger and SM; The Abandoned. After being raised into adulthood and SRS' structure collapsing, their parents go on to ascend due to being around for many cycles, and they lost hope on finding enough echos for their pup aswell.

Next up is Four Sparks, the youngest iterator in the local group. She is the first to die from the group.

The Plague, created by For Sparks. After becoming aware of the situation in Moon's group, Sparks seeks to find a transportable way to deal with the rot, and started experimenting with a slugcat, forcing it on a rot only diet. This however resulted in an aggressive form of the rot that sprang back to life in the slugcat's body. The Plague goes on to infect Shallow River, resulting in her eventual death.

The wire, created by For Sparks. Not much going on for them, just a pet left over from the ancient's time.

And the last of Four Sparks' creations, The Bird Tamer. A messenger who ends up bringing FS the illegal information given to Pebbles, which FS reused to create weak rot samples.

A pair of hybrids I mentioned on my previous oc batch, the garbage worm x slugcats; created by Shallow River. They're The Cleaners. Made to eat any debris in SR's structure so that the Noodle Lizards could not be harmed.

The last 2. These guys will likely be redesigned atleast a bit, so consider their current designs placeholders.

The Firework, created by Rickety Bridge to be a messenger. They end up bringing RB a new rarefaction cell from Shallow River's collapsed structure after WL's lil heist.

They will mostly have a pattern change as I find their current pattering not completely fitting.

And lastly, Cycle Ender. A slugcat x yellow lizards hybrid that does not originate from this cycle. They were spat out by the void sea here, and they're gonna make that everyone else's problem.

They will get a complete color swift + plus a furless form. I find the current version too similar to Saint, and while they are partly made with Saint's DNA, Id still rather they looked more distinct, as they are very different personality wise.

And that's it for now! Links below go to their toyhouse pages with more detailed info as I didn't want to just copy-paste everything from there. Next post will hopefully contain the noodle lizards, along with some other creatures Ill be keeping in the dark, for now. It will also be shorter than this one,,

The Generator The Fetcher Echo Mimics The Stinger The Abandoned Four Sparks The Plague The Wire The Bird Tamer The Cleaners The Firework Cycle Ender

[dirt-str1der]

I close my eyes and all i see is kiryu with a pawful of worms and squatting on the dirt while slurping them up with the most casual expression ever , like how you tense your face when youre sucking up like a noodles or something but hes got his perpetual frown on

Check out this poem

[myperfectdad]

38. Reinforcements

Out in the real world, I was usually invisible. I preferred it that way. When no one is paying attention to you, there’s no one to disappoint. No one makes your life miserable just because they’re bored, and they’ve decided to make you their free entertainment. At my job, I was just another junior copywriter, one of a dozen laboring away in identical cubicles. At my favorite bookstore, I was just some brainy nerd who knew everything there was to know about the Diet of Worms. In my group of friends, I was the quiet one who always showed up on time, and who always left behind extra cash to supplement everyone else’s embarrassingly small tips. In the real world, I was ordinary and unremarkable. Maybe even forgettable. 

But at home, I was Master Paul, the young, dominant owner of three hot, submissive, older men. Every morning I woke up to one of them gently kissing me awake, while another ironed my work clothes and the third prepared breakfast. Everywhere else, I was just another mild mannered twenty something with too many student loans and a goatee that never quite grew in right. But here, I am the Master and what I say goes. They’re all 20 years or more my senior, and each of them is a respected professional in their field. But at home, they’re my property.

After two years of living together, my subs and I had our weekday morning routine down pat. Shower sex, grooming and dressing, then a quick breakfast before we all went our separate ways for work. Frank, the eldest of my subs, used his military training and natural commanding presence to keep the other two, Max and Nick, on a tight schedule in the mornings so none of us would run late. Turns out it required a fair bit of logistical planning to get four grown men out the door and off to work on time.

“You’ve hardly touched your coffee, Master Paul,” Frank said one morning at breakfast, after I’d been uncharacteristically disengaged during our shower session. “Is something troubling you, Sir?”

Truth be told, something was, but I didn’t want to talk about it. “It’s nothing,” I said.

“Of course, Sir,” Frank said. “It’s not my place to pry. But if you change your mind and it’s something we can help you with, please tell us.”

“Yes, Sir,” Max and Nick chimed in. I had always tried to keep “Paul” and “Master Paul” separate. I didn’t want to muddy the waters of the amazing thing I’d created with these subs by folding in talk about my professional struggles or personal disappointments. But the way they all looked at me, genuinely concerned that I didn’t seem myself, made me change my mind.

“There’s this guy at work who’s been giving me a hard time,” I said finally.

The sound of creaking leather and boots striking the floor sent pleasant chills up my spine. All three of them stopped what they were doing—Frank making coffee, Max packing lunches, and Nick washing dishes—and closed ranks around me. Each of them wore a similar look of concern on his face.

“I don’t like the sound of that, Sir,” Max said. “What is this punk doing that’s bothering you?”

Telling my subs about it was cathartic, because I hadn’t spoken of it to anyone prior to that. I told them how one of my new coworkers, a dude bro called Andrew, had been taking credit for my work and cracking jokes about me behind my back. Things had reached a new low the day before, when I overheard Andrew telling our boss that he had fixed a bunch of errors I’d made in a document, when it was the other way around. 

With each word I said, my subs’ muscles tensed and their hands clenched into balled-up fists. If I didn’t know them better, and they weren’t my obedient property, I’d have thought they were getting prepared for a fight. They stayed silent for several moments after I finished telling them all my beef with Andrew, until finally Frank spoke and broke the rising tension. 

“Sir, I’d like to drive you to work this morning, if I may.” 

“Me too, Sir,” said Nick. 

“All of us can go,” said Max. 

“No, men,” I said, using the authoritative tone that signified to my subs that the discussion is over. “I will handle this on my own, but I appreciate your support.” 

“We are yours to control, Master Paul,” they recited in unison. 

Things at my job got worse over the next few days, and back at home, my men could tell. True to their word, they didn’t try to force the issue or convince me to let them intercede on my behalf. On Friday, however, they did have my leather uniform laid out on the bed and a new pair of spit-shined boots resting on the floor just beside. I smiled when I saw what they’d prepared. Friday night was Bear Night at Buddies, our local bar, and my subs decided to treat me to a night out to blow off some steam. 

It worked. Buddies was the exception to the rule of Paul being invisible in the real world. Everyone who came to Buddies on Bear Night knew about Master Paul and his three older subs. I don’t want to say I’m a local celebrity or anything, but when a 24-year-old guy takes on three 40-something leather men as property, word gets around. By last call, I’d almost forgotten about Andrew, the obnoxious bro who’d been giving me such a hard time at work. Until, that is, when my men and I were walking back to our car and we saw Andrew coming out of Silver House, one of a half dozen identical, anodyne bars in the neighborhood where boring straight people like to congregate. I stopped and held out a gloved hand, which signaled my subs walking behind me to stop, too, but it was too late. Despite the dim streetlights and my head-to-toe leather gear, Andrew recognized me. 

“Hey guy,” he said, his attention already on the trio of big, beefy, leather clad men flanking me. His cocky smile wavered somewhat. “Having a good night?” 

“We were,” I said. I don’t know what came over me, but the combination of the alcohol, the company of my subs, and the evening at Buddies where Master Paul held court for hours just went to my head. “Men, this is the guy from my job I was telling you about.” 

All three of them closed in on me. Frank tilted his head upward to view Andrew from under the brim of his Muir cap. “Is that so? Looks like an overgrown frat reject to me.” 

Nick grunted in agreement. “Are you enjoying cosplaying as a real man?” 

“Listen,” Andrew said, “I’m not looking for any trouble.” 

“Too late,” Max said, grinding leather fist into a leather palm. 

Andrew tried to walk past me, but my men blocked his path. “Let me just go to my car, erm, Sir,” he said, looking uneasily at Frank. 

My men laughed. “No, you don’t call me Sir,” Frank said, then clapped me on the shoulder. “You call him Sir.” 

Andrew looked confused, his eyes darting back and forth between Frank and me. “Maybe if you apologize and ask him nicely,” Frank continued, “he’ll call us off.” 

I felt calm and in control as Andrew looked at me one more time. I knew he would comply, just like I knew my submissive leather men would comply with my orders. For the first time, the distinction between “Paul” and “Master Paul” seemed to blur. And for the first time, I didn’t seem to care. 

“P-Please, Sir,” Andrew stammered, “would you call of your men and let me go to my car?” 

I leaned in close and spoke to Andrew in a voice so low, I doubted my men would hear. “It’s Master Paul and Sir from now on. We clear?” 

Andrew nodded. I crooked my neck to signal my subs to let him pass, and we continued our way down the sidewalk. I was rock hard from putting my work bully in his place, and I wondered why I’d wasted so much time trying to keep “Paul” and “Master Paul” separate. As I looked at my submissive men, each of whom looked like he’d take a bullet for me if I asked him to, I decided there’d be no more double life. My men were my property, and I would show them off as I pleased. 

[beewithknee]

mirror image

david x angel hurt/comfort

You sat in front of the mirror. Counting, just counting. That's what you always did. You counted each imperfection and noted how you could make them better. You had done all manner of things; you tried dieting, working out, make-up, different clothes, haircuts. everything. But nothing seemed to work. You always just looked wrong. You honestly didn't know how David stayed with you. He needed someone strong and brave. He needed another werewolf, someone who understood all their customs. Someone not like you.

You were too caught up in your own head to feel the silent stars that tracked down your cheeks. Your chest physically ached. You thought that the changes to your body would make you feel better, but it only added to it all. You just didn’t understand why anybody as perfect as David could love someone… someone like you. A choked sob caught in your throat. Your hand came up to your mouth, desperately trying to muffle the sobs that were beginning to escape. Your lip quivered and your lashes shook. Your torso had folded over, curling into yourself. You had put up walls after years of rejection, but then David came into your life. He smashed them down and wormed his way in with ease.

How dare he? How could he so simply destroy everything you worked for?

Said man was silently stalking up the stairs, trying to find his hidden lover. He had a small smile resting delicately against his lips. You two had moved out of your cramped apartment and into a proper house, you needed the change and David was more than happy to comply. You were still curled into your chest, body heaving with the sobs that wracked through your body. You had bitten the corner of your hand in a futile attempt to keep silent. You were gasping for breath as he entered. The hot tears blurred your vision, you clamped them shut, not having the energy to even look at his blurry form. You had not at all considered the fact that your lover might be wondering why you were taking so long to get dressed. His footsteps were silent, landing on your dark carpet softly. A hand latched onto your shoulder. You jumped, stumbling into the back of your cupboard door. You clutched over your booming heart.

“Jesus Christ david. You nearly gave me a heart attack.” You sniffled, turning your head and wiping ‘discreetly’ at your cheeks and nose. "What's wrong, Angel?” He whispered, sitting on the floor opposite you. You brought your knees up to your chest, resting your head on them. Everything hurt and you really didn't want to have to explain all your shit to him. You stayed silent, not meeting his gaze. David sighed, shifting closer and putting his cold hand on your calf. “Angel, you don't have to tell me now. I do wanna talk about it later, but for now we can sit. Or we can just go lay on the bed. Whatever you want” He offered, seeing how tense and uncomfortable your form was. You nodded, mind still a war-zone. It wasn’t a war you wanted to get your wolf involved in, but you knew you had too. It was slowly killing you, like a long acting poison spreading through your veins. Infecting your limbs, leaking out into your everyday life. It wasn't fair to either of you.

“I just… I don't know why I'm like this.” You sighed tearily, feeling the familiar sting in your eyes. You tilted your head up, bringing the edge of your jumper to the corners of your eyes, ridding the final few tears. “Because we're people. And feelings are… they’re complicated and messy and frustrating. I don't have all the answers. But what I can tell you with 100% honesty is that I love you and that you are my mate. That may not help a lot, but it's the truest thing that I know you’ll believe right now.” He whispered, hauling you up into his arms. He kissed your forehead, sighing at your exhausted body laid against him. “Let's take a nap, okay?” You nodded, too tired for words. David climbed in first, opening his arms as you slid yourself next to him. You got comfy, shifting before you rested against his chest, practically on top of him. You feared you would squish him but he simply tightened his arms so there was no way you could escape.

“I love you, for you. I love you because you’re my Angel. My gift from heaven. My perfect saviour.” Nothing was that okay… but you let yourself believe that there, in his arms, maybe things could be.

[i-need-entertainment]

Haikyuu!! Boys and whether or not they’re picky eaters

Characters: Akaashi, Washio, Konoha, Kita, Suna, Ushijima, Yahaba, Iwaizumi, Futakuchi, Daishou, Numai and Iizuna

Warnings: Mentions of being beat in Futakuchi’s but it’s not abuse or anything like that, choking on food in Daishou’s

**I am a very picky eater, so I tried to be as unbiased as possible in this one!!**

Akaashi Keiji: A little

It’s not super obvious, he eats a fairly broad range of foods.

He has fruits, vegetables, meats, etc. That he likes, so the amount of things he doesn’t like gets overlooked.

He isn’t super vocal about it either, he just subtly doesn’t eat the things he doesn’t like.

He strikes me as someone who doesn’t like raw vegetables, like raw broccoli or cauliflower. 

He likes them cooked, just not raw.

Washio Tatsuki: Not really

Doesn’t really have foods he doesn’t like.

He can find something he likes pretty much anywhere, his palate is pretty diverse.

The only food he really doesn’t like jello.

Part of it is the texture, the other part is it’s just too sweet.

But other than that, he doesn’t really dislike many things.

That’s not to say he’ll eat anything, he’s pretty open minded when it comes to food, but he has his limits.

So ‘weird’ things are off the table for him.

Konoha Akinori: Y E S

Getting him to eat anything green is near impossible.

His family constantly brings up how hard it was to feed him as a child.

Like, the only vegetables he would willingly eat were green beans and carrots.

Everything else was a big fat no.

And to be honest, it really didn’t change as he got older.

LOVES junk food and anything sweet or unhealthy, but if it’s labeled ‘healthy’ or ‘organic’ he won’t touch it.

Unbeknownst to him, his mom’s been feeding him the burgers with the veggies mixed in for years lol.

Kita Shinsuke: No

Granny didn’t raise no picky eater.

I wouldn’t say he was forced to eat certain foods.

But there was no negotiating going on.

As he grew older, it just made sense for him to eat balanced and healthy meals, since diet is key to good health.

I just can’t imagine him being super picky when it comes to foods anyways.

But the one thing he absolutely hates is radishes.

Doesn’t know what it is, but he’s never liked them and he never will.

Suna Rintaro: Yes and No

Will eat anything and everything put in front of him.

Except for certain things.

Like, he’ll eat all beans except Lima beans.

Or he’ll eat all fish except salmon.

You get what I mean?

He’s not considered picky because he does eat a large variety of things, and most things.

But the things he doesn’t like he absolutely will not touch. There’s no ‘trying it just in case’ if he didn’t like it before, he will never like it.

Ushijima Wakatoshi: Nope

Will eat anything and everything put in front of him.

Doesn’t so much as question it.

Like Kita, he’s mindful of his nutrition and diet so he eats pretty healthy.

But he seems like someone who likes pretty much everything.

Sure he has his preferences and things he’s not a fan of.

But he can’t really think of anything he despises.

Most often if he doesn’t like something prepared one way, he’ll like it prepared another way. Like Akaashi with the raw/cooked vegetables.

Yahaba Shigeru: No

He seems like someone raised in a stricter household, or at least it was strict when they were kids.

His parents rule for the dinner table was ‘you don’t leave until you’ve finished your food’ so he learned not to be too picky of an eater after that.

He seems like someone who likes to cook and try new things, so he’s pretty open minded and experimental to new things!

Will try the ‘weird’ foods because he’s genuinely curious, even if they seem inedible.

Iwaizumi Hajime: n o

Like Ushijima, he’ll eat anything and everything put in front of him.

But I do think for personal reasons, he doesn’t like carrots.

When he was a baby he ate so many carrots his nose turned orange, and after that he wouldn’t so much as touch them.

Also isn’t a big fan of nuts, like peanuts, almonds, those type of things.

He likes peanut butter, but not peanuts.

Futakuchi Kenji: YES

Has a good 20 foods he will for sure eat and most of them come out of a box.

I mean, his favorite food is sour gummies.

I think that speaks for itself.

The only vegetable he really does like is tomatoes.

Everything else elicits an ‘over my dead body’ response from him.

Has just about daily battles with his mom over food.

Her trying to not to beat her teenage son, and him trying not to have to eat his peas.

His mom fed him the veggie-infused burgers until he figured it out.

Daishou Suguru: No. He just doesn’t eat certain things.

Isn’t picky, he holds grudges.

If he and a food ever had a bad experience, he will never, and I do mean never ingest it again.

He choked on a jelly bean when he was like 8 so he never touched one again.

Or if he ever found a worm in an apple, he’d only eat cut up fruit.

Also seems like someone who doesn’t like slimy things, like snails or jelly sticks.

Numai Kazuma: Nope

If it’s edible, he’ll eat it. 

He’s really not picky when it comes to food, just so long as it tastes good.

Food wise, he’s the perfect guy to bring home cause no matter what your mom makes or how good/bad it is, he will eat it with a smile on his face and give good compliments.

The type to order something from a restaurant and make 0 changes.

Absolutely none.

Will also eat anything off your plate that you don’t like, so if you’re a picky eater, he’ll be happy to take what you don’t want~

Iizuna Tsukasa: Yes...?

Has a lot of foods he doesn’t like, but it’s only because he is extremely susceptible to textures.

Doesn’t like fish, well he likes some fish, just not most fish.

He tries to avoid anything with a squishy or mushy texture.

Like, when fruit gets a little past ideal eating, but it’s still perfectly edible, he can’t eat it cause it just feels so...mushy.

Has no problem with most vegetables, fruits, meats, most foods actually.

But he is relentlessly picked on by his sisters for the things he doesn’t like, since they seem like normal things, and his reasons for not liking them are weird.

[anyoneseenadam]

The Moon Spirit - One

Dorian x reader (throne of glass) (future fenrys x reader)

Description: When you’re taught to be a queen from such a young age, nothing could go wrong. But when the king starts to fear your growing power you find yourself thrust into a world of faeries, evil magic and powerful men, learning to stand on your own can be harder than it seems.

warnings: blood, graphic descriptions of violence, objectification, gross old men, Dorian is a ball of love and niceness however, angst, fluff, possibly smut in later chapters

word count: 4.5k

a/n: ahhhhh I’m finally writing this!! This has been in my head for so long now so I’m so glad I’m finally getting it down and I’m really excited to develop it further and possibly go into some poly!dorianxfenrysxreader but that shall all be revealed soon lmao, pls comment and let me know your opinions and theories and shiz it always makes my day!!!

—————————————————————————-

“Wake up.” You felt insistent tapping on your forearm, groaning as you shook it off, turning onto your side and burrowing deeper into your soft duvet. “C’mon wake up princess,” your brain barely registered Dorian’s whining as you groaned in return, throwing and arm out behind you and batting at his firm chest.

“Go away.” You moaned as you felt a firm body land on top off yours. Dorian pressed his face in between your shoulder blades as his arms wormed their way beneath your stomach, warm fingertips massaging the skin of your belly as you cracked open an eye, albeit reluctantly.

“I have to say all those lessons in ladylike manners sure paid off.” You heard Chaol’s sarcastic voice and turned your head just enough to glare at him as well as he sat comfortably on the armchair next to your fireplace.

“I also have lots of lessons in stabbing rude boys, shall I demonstrate those,” you grumbled, flipping him off before shaking your clingy boyfriend away, sitting up in bed and glaring at both of them as they laughed at your disgruntled expression. “What do you want and why are you waking me up?”

“Well, my love,” Dorian moved behind you to gently start brushing your hair as you hummed in delight at the attention, both of you ignoring Chaol’s eye roll, “It is your birthday isn’t it?”

“So you choose to torment me?” you asked as Dorian stood again, smiling at you boyishly as he moved around your room, tidying away clothes.

“Well seventeen is a big one,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you and Chaol moved to translate as you stood and made your way to your bathroom where a bath had already been run for you, the hot water smelling of expensive soaps and salts.

“We have to make appearances today, and there’s a ball tonight.” Your shoulders slumped as you realised what your day entailed.

“Appearances?” you gave your friend a pleading look, but he just shrugged his shoulders sympathetically.

“Carriage through the city, the whole point in the public seeing you so much is to dampen any threat of revolution and they haven’t seen the two of you together recently. Your birthday is as good a time as any.” The older boy explained as your dark-haired prince moved closer to you, wrapping his arms tightly around you and kissing your head.

“I know it sucks princess, but if we make the rounds this morning, we’ll have all afternoon to ourselves before the ball.”

“I don’t like being a show pony.” You grumbled as the familiar frustration prickled behind your eyes, tears forming on what was supposed to be a happy day for you.

Chaol and Dorian averted their gazes at your words, both feeling a deep sense of guilt over something they truly couldn’t control. You had spoken of this before, only in confidence to them; Dorian the love of your life and Chaol alike a brother to you, you had told them how you felt like a toy, a shiny thing for the king to display, waved around in front of the public until you were drained, and they were putting artificial colour onto your face. You had once described it as being alike a corpse in makeup, dragged around for others entertainment as you slowly rotted and decayed until you were unrecognisable.

“I’ll be there the entire time my love, when it gets too much I’ll drag the attention away from you okay?” you nodded as he stroked your arm reassuringly.

“I love you,” you said to him as you leaned up to kiss him gently.

“I love you too baby, happy birthday.”

Chaol walked past as he left the room so you could clean, ruffling your hair as he passed. “Maybe next year you’ll grow,” he mocked, narrowly missing your smack as the three of you laughed.

“Clean up, we’ll be waiting when you’re ready,” Dorian pressed another kiss to your head before he was dragged out of the room, his grin easy as you waved him away.

--

You washed quickly without the help of the maids that usually surrounded you. You presumed that was a birthday present from Dorian as he knew how much you despised the bustling groups of women that would preen over your every feature.

You spent half the bath scrubbing off layers of dead skin and the other massaging your hair until it had no option but to shine in the morning light. Cleaning your face and dragging a razor over any visible body hair as you repeated the rules you were taught in your head.

1.      Never look anything less than perfect. A queen must look put together.

2.      Always stand straight.

3.      Never smile with your teeth.

4.      Wave to children only, adults get a polite head bow.

5.      Speak once spoken too and only if given permission from the Crown prince…

The list went on for what seemed like hours and at one point you had it written down and pinned on your wall next to your mirror, reading it every day. The first four years you had spent under the king’s care were the same. Lessons followed by more lessons, restrictive diets, and waist training. They broke you down and remodelled you into the perfect queen, and throughout those lonely years you never once saw Dorian, excluding the first time you met as children.

Only when you were twelve did you see him again, and from then on you did everything together. When he sword trained you practiced ballet, when he read, you read, when he ate, you ate. You became one person, never doing something without the other, Chaol turning your duo into a trio soon after.

When you turned fourteen he kissed you. You both knew you were to be married one day, but one snowy day he had pulled you aside and kissed you quickly, face as red as the roses your mother used to grow every summer. He had asked you to be his girlfriend, speaking so quickly you barely heard him as you held in laughs at your usually so composed prince. You had nodded in response and he kissed you again, holding your hand tightly as the two of you escaped the castle for the night, determined as he was to take you on a real date.

You dried quickly when you got out the bath, rubbing your favourite lavender scented hand cream into your hands and neck. You towelled your hair off and dressed quickly, mindful of the delicate necklace that always hung around your neck, the one that secured your place in the glass castle. Even if you didn’t know why.

Your dress was dusty blue with silver stitching, the king and queen liking when you and Dorian sticked to a theme. You thumbed some silver earrings in and adorned your wrists in similar dainty, silver bracelets, finally twisting your hair into a low bun and pinning away the loose strands, applying minimal makeup.

You heard a soft knock at the door before it pushed open, a familiar mop of dark hair appearing at an odd angle from behind the door. You smiled when you saw him, unable to escape the rush of feelings that appeared whenever he walked in a room, all easy smiles and suave manner.

He sauntered over to you with a cheeky smile, his hands hiding something behind his back.

“Maybe Chaol was right about the height thing,” he commented when he reached you, your similar heights long gone as you both grew into your bodies, the days of being young and without consequences gone.

You jabbed him in the rib jokingly, “It’s my birthday and all I’ve gotten so far is abuse.”

“Let me change that then,” he pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw, and you shut your eyes, revelling in the attention from your lover. He pulled away and revealed the flat box he was holding. “I know you can’t take your necklace off, but I thought this would go nicely with it,” he opened the box in your direction, and you looked down at a beautiful gold necklace with a circular pendant showing an opalescent crescent moon with three stars on the gold plating it rested on.

“Oh Dorian,” you whispered, picking the necklace up gently to admire it.

“Of course I have a million other presents waiting for you later, I have to treat my best girl,” he scrunched his face up in the way that always reminded you that he too was just a boy, despite his lessons. You loved these gentle moments when you both let your masks drop, and instead focused on the true love you shared, a lack of care for the way it was pushed. You instead focused on the luck that had given you a man you could truly love, through all the pain and harsh words, the world had given you someone to endure its hardships with, and for that you would remain grateful.

“Put it on for me?” you smiled at him, biting your lip gently as he turned you around, clasping the necklace that sat perfectly under your crystal behind you neck, his fingers soft and gentle as they trailed down the chain and settled between your collarbones, his touch almost wary of the stone as he moved to stand in front of you.

He seemed like he was about to say something but clearly decided against it, instead reaching to tug some strands of hair down to frame your face, twirling them in his long fingers.

“We’ll be fine today, it’s only an hour or two.” He said, his voice steady and sure, his courage coursing through you as he cupped your face lightly.

“We will be. We always are.” You moved away and sat to pull on your shoes as Dorian checked his sword was hanging safely from his side still before he picked up a light shawl, slinging it around your shoulder and linking arms with you.

“The city awaits my love,”

--

Chaol was escorting you through the courtyard when you were surrounded by a fleet of soldiers, exchanging a worried glance with Dorian.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, his arm tightening around you as he and Chaol both scanned the area.

“Yes your highness, however a rather dangerous prisoner is being taken to the king, so we are simply on high alert.” A guard you recognised said, Dorian frowned but you all continued onwards, only slowing when you passed an ever-larger group of guards. When you passed them you looked to the centre where a beautiful girl with a tear-stained face stood, being dragged along, her blonde hair matted with blood and dirt. She locked eyes with you, and you felt a pulse of power go through your body, her turquoise eyes widening for a second as time seemed to slow around you, a soft glow emitting from your neck. However before you could ponder it she was dragged away, and Dorian was asking you a question.

“Huh?” you asked quietly, mind occupied by the strange, beautiful girl.

“What do you think she did?” he asked, his grin cheeky.

“Maybe she steals princes hearts and eats them,” you joked, nudging his side even though your smile didn’t feel real, hiding your shaking hands behind the pleats of your skirt.

“Shame mine has already been stolen,” he flirted, and you laughed genuinely as he helped you into the carriage, pushing down the thoughts of the girl and the anxiety that surged through you as you prepared to plaster on a fake, placid smile.

“I haven’t eaten it yet though,” he laughed, joining you and squeezing your hand.

“Save it for dessert.”

--

The rest of your day passed slowly. Practiced waves and polite conversation taking up a majority of your morning as you tried to keep a pleasant facial expression when all you wanted was to curl up with your very cute boyfriend and sleep your birthday away.

You hated being put on display, the way you were shown off like a shiny toy and your hand was frequently finding Dorians, holding his tightly while you dug your nails into the palm of your other hand, the biting pain reminding you that you were in fact human.

By the end of the long, slow loop of Adarlan your shoulders were aching, and your mouth hurt from the still, soft expression you had kept it in. However you didn’t let your shoulders drop as you moved swiftly through the castle, Dorian by your side and Chaol a pace behind. Instead you only let your shoulders fall when you reached your room as you squealed, clapping your hands together and turning to Dorian with wide eyes when you saw the copious amounts of presents laid out for you.

“Dorian this is too much!” you exclaimed as you tackled him in a hug.

“Nothing is too much for you angel.” He muttered, kissing your head as you practically swooned in his arms.

“You read too much romance,” you said, ducking your head to hide your heated face.

“Plus a solid twenty percent are from me,” Chaol said, and you turned, hugging the tall man tightly too.

“Thank you!” you held your hands to your face, biting the tips of your thumbs like you used to as a child as Dorian led you to the seats where the presents were placed.

“I think this one needs to be opened first,” he said, a glint in his eyes that you couldn’t place as he passed you a large but light box. You opened the lid cautiously as Dorian exchanged excited looks with his brother. You were met by a ball of white fur, bright blue eyes blinking up at you and you gasped.  

You placed a hand over your heart as you reached into the box, picking up the kitten that was roughly the size of your hand and cooing gently as you stroked it, tears filling your eyes. You looked up at Dorian and he smiled at you as you pressed the furball into your chest, nuzzling its soft head.

“I found it abandoned on a street and had to take it home,” he explained, “He doesn’t have a name yet.”

You wiped away a tear that had escaped as they laughed at your emotional state, “Amaris,” you whispered, still choked up, “My little ball of light.”

You leaned into Dorian’s arm and kissed him gently in thanks, his head coming over your shoulder as you cooed at the small kitten that was pawing at your hand like new parents.

“As sweet as this is we’re going to be here for hours if you take this long on everything,” you stuck your tongue out at Chaol, placing Amaris in your lap as you were passed more presents. You ended up opening many presents for Amaris, Dorian sheepishly explaining that he got slightly carried away, countless books, dresses, hair pins and bags filled with sweets from all over the world.

By the time you were finished you all felt slightly sick from the taffy you had shared but the aches left from your smiles were real this time. Maids came in to clear away the wrapping paper and dishes Dorian had ordered up when he realised you hadn’t had any substantial food yet that day.

“I should go, we’ve got dinner then the ball in an hour and I can hear the maids outside,” Dorian said late that afternoon, his arms tight around you as you snoozed on his chest, Chaol having left to complete his duties for the day, not having the luxury to laze around like you and Dorian, and Amaris curled on Dorian’s chest next to your head.

“Do you have too?” you whined, and Dorian laughed,

“Yes, now c’mon. Wear the gold dress tonight,” he was referring to an intricate rose pink and gold dress he had bought you, currently hanging on the screen in your room, the matching tiara in a velvet case on your vanity. You looked over to it with heart eyes, wondering how you got so lucky before you sat up and Dorian marvelled at you, eyes puffy from your nap and lips parted and pouty. He reached up and stole a kiss, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth before deepening the kiss with a hand on the back of your head. He pressed into your body, his tongue seeking out yours and you moaned softly into the kiss, his grin a promise of more to come later in the evening.

He pulled away too soon, leaving you breathless and left with a wink as you were surrounded by a sea of flustered maids, getting swept up in the lace and satin, the rush of the room silencing your mind for the time being.

--

You sat next to Dorian on a velvet seat, Dorian’s hand protectively resting on your knee as you spoke to the duke and duchess of some shit you didn’t care about. They were speaking about their fifth horse when you felt a sharp gaze on you and turned to see the king staring at you with his cold eyes, and for a second you felt that pulse of power again, the Duke cut off mid-sentence as the world slowed. You tore your eyes away quickly, clenching them shut as the image of the blonde girl came back into your head, Dorian gazing at you with worry as he excused the two of you.

“What happened?” he asked, leading you to dance as you forced yourself back into your practiced facial expression, the mask slipping on hiding your fear.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned into his embrace, “I need to talk to you about something that happened today,” you whispered low enough for him to hear.

“Are you okay? Did someone do something?” he asked, grip tightening slightly as he led you in a waltz.

“Not quite, I’ll tell you when we can go somewhere more private.” You peered over his shoulder and met the kings’ eyes again, watching as he spoke lowly to Chaol who turned slightly pale before bowing and making his way over to you.

“May I but in,” he asked, and Dorian nodded, still watching you cautiously as he passed you to Chaol.

“The king wishes to speak to you after the ball, he says it’s the first thing you have to do.” He told you quietly and it took all your training to mask your fear.

“Did he say why?” you asked, taking a deep breath when he shook his head. “Okay, that’s fine. Thank you for letting me know.” You finished your dance with Chaol before carrying on with Dorian, occasionally having to entertain a noble who would breathe heavily in your ear for ten minutes before Dorian found an excuse to steal you back, giggling like the teenagers you were as you did.

When the ball ended and everyone began filing out, all wishing you a happy birthday and you and Dorian a happy future you felt the ball of anxiety that had been in your stomach all night grow, consuming your entire being and swallowing you whole.

“Are you sure you’re okay going alone?” Dorian asked for the fourth time and you faked a laugh to appease his nerves.

“He probably just wants to let me know of new duties now I’m older, I’ll not be long.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“But why won’t he let me or Chaol escort you,” he looked concerned, his trust in his father depleting as he grew older.

“Probably because you’ve both been drinking,” you squeezed his hand as his shoulders slumped, “I’ll be fine.”

“Come up to my room as soon as you’re done okay?” you smiled at his concern, placing a hand over your new necklace, and walking back, away from him.

“Promise.” You blew him a kiss, “see you in a minute, I love you.”

--

You knew something was wrong even before you walked in the room as you watched the queen walk out, eyes red. Her breath stopped when she saw you and she looked as if she were about to come over to speak to you, but shook her head, continuing on with a tight smile.

The guards opened the doors to the large throne room, escorting you into the dark room.

The king sat alone.

The room was dark, lit only by the light of the full moon coming in from the glass walls and ceiling. He sat on his burnished throne; his crown lopsided on his head as he swirled a goblet of blood red wine.

You stepped forward, head bowed, posture never faltering as your mind travelled back to the way you had watched your grandmother stand up to him as well, only to pass away less than a month later leaving you with no real family.

“It’s a shame really,” he started, voice low and gravelly and you stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. “You were truly doing so well, and Dorian the poor boy, this will affect him greatly I presume.”

You fought the bile rising in your stomach at the implications of what he was saying, but kept your mouth shut.

“And I have been nothing but fair, giving you all you could ever dream of and keeping you on a tight leash. But I suppose teenage girls will always want to disobey.” He stood then, motioning to the guards who came and kicked you down, landing on your knees harshly with a yelp as you looked up at the approaching king with fear in your eyes.

He reached you, his hand stroking your cheek lightly before trailing down to your necklaces, gently twirling the stone between your collarbones before holding the one Dorian had gifted you tightly.

“Hmm, tacky,” was all he said before tugging harshly, ripping the necklace of you, and throwing it to the side. “I guess I’ve dragged this out enough now.”

You were shaking were you sat, tears slowly trailing down your face but still to afraid to say a word, even as a guard you didn’t recognise approached you, drawing his sword as the others held you tightly. Your eyes widened, fear seeping in as you started fighting the guards, desperately thrashing in their grips as you met the kings’ eyes.

“You can’t do this,” you begged but it was futile as he laughed in your face, “Please it will destroy Dorian, he is your son please don’t do this.”

“It builds character, a strong king needs to be broken.”

“What about the public! They will figure it out, you can’t spin this one.” You were pulling at strings, but you had to try anything you could.

“I AM KING! WHATVER I SAY GOES, WHATEVER I SAY IS THE TRUTH!” he exploded, and you started sobbing, begging for your life as the king turned away, gesturing for the guard to continue. You were shaking, pulling away from the guards as you fought against their death grip.

You watched the guard raise the sword above his head, squeezing your eyes shut as you sent a prayer to any god that was listening. As you prayed, clutching your necklace letting loose sobs and cried for Dorian you failed to notice the glow emitting from you. You heard the guard step forward to slash down and raised your hands to brace for the blow, a blow that never came.

You looked up to see the three guards that were next to you were all sliced in half, blood spilling onto the floor. You screamed pushing away, slipping on the blood as you tore away sobbing as the king turned to you, face white with fear and rage.

“GET HER!” he screamed but you had already begun running, skirts bunched in your hands, the glow around you shielding you from their arrows as you tore through the doors and into the courtyard, running as fast as your legs would allow, dropping yours arms as the full force of the moons light hit you. You saw a path you and Dorian often took to sneak out and headed for it, hiding behind the mock door that was covered in shrubbery, a hand pressed to your mouth as you muffled your sobs hearing the guards stopping nearby, speaking in hushed tones.

You felt something wet press against your leg and almost screamed, looking down to see Amaris gazing up at you with those bright, unblinking eyes. You held in your sobs, picking him up and pressing him into your chest as you quietly made your way down the path that led to the woods, walking in the moon veiled forest.

Your dress was bloody and torn, your delicate heels had snapped, and your feet were tearing from where you stepped having removed them. You ran through the woods, heading as far away as you could get, however you eventually had to slow walking and holding in your sobs as you realised what you had done.

Not only had you used magic, but you had also killed three men and left Dorian. You held Amaris tighter to your chest as he licked at you gently, your necklace still glowing even thought your entire body ached, ready for rest. But you ploughed on, coming out of the forest onto an empty dirt road.

You sat down for a second, letting Amaris down as you sobbed into your hands until you had no tears left, your entire body still shaking. But you forced yourself to stand, picking up Amaris and walking down the road, luckily finding a small farm with horses.

You quietly took a horse, placing down your tiara in its place, wishing you could apologise more but instead mounting the horse and leaving, riding into the night, tears drying on your face as you held your light close with one hand. You wished you could just wake up, wrapped in Dorians arms as he comforted you after your bad dream, but the pain in your body suggested that wasn’t going to happen.

You wanted Dorian but you needed a plan. And you needed a drink.

--

Chaol stood in the throne room, his hand clenched so tight his knuckles were white as he watched the king spin his story of your sudden disappearance, the sound of Dorians silent cries breaking his heart.

When they were excused he dragged Dorian to his room, where he finally broke down, falling to his knees and sobbing into his hands, muttering about how he should have protected her.

“Dorian I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but I think something bad happened to (y/n).” he said, approaching his brother cautiously as he looked at him with wide, tear filled eyes.

“What?” he asked, his voice breaking in his throat. Chaol finally unclenched his hand and passed what he had been holding to Dorian.

The gold necklace was caked with blood.

[kitkat1003]

Tower Tales

3: Well, they’re not sad all the time, are they?

I posted this on AO3!  Diversify ur platforms kids.  Read the first two chaps Here, it’s kind of integral for ur understanding

@asilcorner sent me some ideas for this fic.  Give them love!  They have a great webcomic @ghostboyscomic that I love, and their art is so friggin cute.  ANYWAY TO THE FIC

(also the Dot section lowkey has a song and im v nervous about so pls b gentle I’m fragile)

They’ve started drawing up plans.  

For the Tower.  Why not put it together better, why not make the space a home now that it has to be?  Yakko refuses to let his siblings live in squalor, not when they have the ability to make it better.

Yakko is surprisingly adept at architecture, though Wakko can’t make heads nor tails of it.

“It’s just art with a little math,” Yakko shrugs off Wakko’s incredulous look with a smile, and Wakko frowns.

“I hate math,” He’s never had to do it in a classroom setting, but at this point he’s certain.  He lets Yakko continue to try and figure that mess out, idly chewing on his mallet as he glances up at the tall expanse of the tower.  

Yakko’s been thinking about expanding the kitchen and bathroom.  Dot says she wants a space for herself, but there doesn’t seem to be room for it between everything else.  Yakko tells her this kindly, though they can tell he’s not at all pleased with having to do so, and while she isn’t mad at him, she is upset at the situation.

“A proper lady is supposed to have a place to beautify herself,” She almost whines, but beneath the simple complaint is something closer to hurt, like this is another reminder that they’re trapped and they don’t have the luxury of comfortable space.

The frown lasts on her face longer than Wakko is comfortable with.  She’s his baby sister, she’s not going to be upset on his watch, unless it’s funny and not from a place of real hurt.  He glances up at the tall, tall ceiling.

Hmm....

Wakko grabs the lightbulb that appears above his head and tosses it into his mouth, crunching on it.  

“Careful, if it isn’t funny you’ll cut your tongue on the glass,” Yakko calls over his shoulder.  Wakko shrugs, and starts rifling through his gag bag.  It looks like he’s got plenty of material, and while Yakko keeps writing up plans Wakko gets to work.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It’s a couple of hours later that Dot looks up from her book and she sees an entire second floor being built-scratch that, being finished.  By Wakko.  Alone.

“Holy Cow!” She can’t help herself from exclaiming, and Yakko jumps out of the intense scene of concentration he was in and looks where Dot’s pointing.

His jaw hits the floor.

The first floor, now.

“Hi guys!” Wakko waves from the entrance to the second floor, nailing down the last spiraling stair to it.  “I got bored so I figured we could use a second floor!”

He skips down the steps and despite his rather hard stomping on them they stand firm.  The craftsmanship is impeccable; Yakko and Dot meet in the middle of the first floor and glance at each other in shock.

“What have you guys been up to?” Wakko asks, completely innocent, as if he hadn’t just made an entire second floor on his own in the span of a few hours.

“How did you do that?” Dot asks, incredulous.  Wakko looks confused, for a moment, and so she gestures wildly to the second floor.  He shrugs.

“Just thought we had a lot of ceiling space, so we could use another floor.  I think we have enough room for a third, but I thought I should take a break,” Wakko looks up at the new ceiling proudly.

“What measurements did you use?” Yakko asks, and Wakko stares at him blankly.

“Uhhhh...I kind of just started making stuff.  I’m not good with numbers,” he responds.

“But how did you even get the materials for this?” Dot rebukes, and Wakko pulls out a burlap sack.

“It’s all in my gag bag, see?” He reaches in and pulls out a long wooden board, showing it off before shoving it back into the bag.  “Easy peasy.  And look, Dot, now we have room for your girly stuff!”

“I protest to the fact that looking good must be described as girly, but regardless-I’m so excited!” She rushes forward and wraps Wakko in a tight hug, spinning him around.  When he’s set down he stumbles a bit, dizzy.

“Glad you...like it,” he mumbles, accent a little stronger, before shaking his head and coming back to himself.  “Do you guys wanna see the upstairs?”

Yakko, who has been previously speechless, jumps into action.

“Heck yeah I do!  C’mon!” He lets Wakko lead them up to the second floor, and they marvel at the open space.  Dot keeps pointing at places where she wants her stuff to be, and Wakko rolls his eyes, but it seems her joy brightens his day more than he though it would.  She was the reason he started building this, after all.  Yakko is already dreaming up new plans, thinking of how to best utilize the space they now have.  The kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom can stay downstairs, but they can make the living room smaller and put extra entertainment space up here.

“But, uh, yeah, that’s all,” Wakko has the audacity to look sheepish, and Yakko won’t stand for it.

“Wakko, this is beyond words,” He kneels down to his level.  “This is a great help.  Now, I think I should make something for us to eat, cause building this had got to have burnt up some calories, but do you think you might want to teach me how to build something later?” He smiles, and Wakko’s eyes go wide.  Teaching his big brother something for a change?  It’s a dream come true.

“Would I!” He tackles Yakko in a hug, and when Yakko catches him, just for a moment, he forgets the situation they’re in, and focuses on Dot’s giggles and the excited pattering of her feet on the new wooden floor, and on Wakko’s prideful expression and smile.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Yakko has never had an issue with food before.  He’s learned to make it, because Wakko needs it and Yakko would never not be able to do something for his family’s needs, that’s ridiculous.

But right now he’s certainly regretting ever ingesting anything, because they’d had a sundae party to celebrate the third floor being made-a celebration type picked by Wakko, who had headed the third floor expansion-and now he can’t sleep, because he feels like he’s going to vomit.

His stomach feels like he just ate a bomb, and not for fun like Wakko sometimes does.  He curls in on himself, trying not to make a fuss, but he opens his eyes and both Wakko and Dot are leaning over either side of him, mirrored looks of concern on their faces.

“Yakko, you look terrible,” Dot deadpans, but he can hear the slight tremor in her voice.  She still occasionally hovers over Wakko, though has relaxed as he’s gone from eating like a normal person to his more “typical” unusually voracious appetite.

“It’s just some...,” he winces.  “Some stomach pain.  It’s nothing,” He smiles, even though he feels awfully sweaty and nauseous.

“I thought my problem was just stomach pain too,” Wakko rebukes, and, well, Yakko can’t really argue there.

“But we’ve been eating with you, Wakko, it can’t be that.  And it couldn’t be bad ice cream, or we’d be sick too,” Dot puts a finger to her chin and thinks, but can’t come up with anything.

“Don’t humans have that thing where they can’t drink milk?” Wakko suggests, and, well, doesn’t that make too much sense.

“Thanks for the plot mover, Wakko,” Yakko groans from his place on the bed.

“I’ll go get you some water.  Maybe if we flush it out with other stuff, it’ll go away quicker,” Dot hops off of the bed and off to the kitchen.  Yakko’s stomach groans in displeasure, and Yakko curls up tighter.

“Guess this means no more milk, huh?  Oh well,” Wakko shrugs, and Yakko half glares at him.

“I’m not banning milk from the house just cause I can’t have it,” He says, a growl in his voice.  Wakko shrugs again.

“Who said you were banning it?  I just don’t think we need it anymore,” He smiles, almost Cheshire.  “Don’t have the craving for it anymore, right, Dot?”

“Right!”

Yakko almost jumps when he feels the bed dip down with Dot’s weight, surprised by her return, but he shifts to face her and takes the glass of water offered with a smile.

“Thanks, sis,” he takes a few sips, and while it doesn’t change much, he gives her a thumbs up anyway, so she’ll feel like she helped.

“Wakko, you need calcium in your diet,” he goes back to arguing, and Wakko leans back on his hands.

“Pretty sure toons don’t have certain diet they need.”

“Pretty sure toons don’t need to eat at all, but,” Yakko raises a brow and lets the sentence hang.

“Touche,” Wakko admits.  “And hey, we’re broken body buddies!” He raises his hands up and grins, and Yakko tries for a smile, too, chuckling to himself.

“But I’m pretty sure we can get calcium in other foods.  Just saying,” Wakko finishes, and Yakko gets it, but he isn’t going to deprive his siblings of pizza and ice cream just because his body can’t handle it. 

But it’s an argument for another day, because Yakko’s stomach makes another very unpleasant noise, and he slowly sits up and starts crawling his way to the end of the bed.

“Where are you going?” Dot asks.

“The bathroom,” Yakko says, and his voice sounds weak even to his ears.  “Don’t wait up.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

An hour and a half later, Yakko stumbles out of the bathroom, drained, and he slumps in on himself as he shuffles back to bed, only to stop when he sees the bed itself.

In the middle, where he typically rests, is a fort of sorts.  Rather, it’s a perfectly shaped resting spot for him, lined with the softest pillows and with a blanket his favorite color, all as comfy as can be.

“Take a rest, brother,” Wakko gestures to the bed nirvana, though Yakko can’t help but notice him wince when he looks at Yakko.  Makes sense.

“Yeah, we set it all up nice for you!  See how it feels!” Dot adds, and Yakko smiles and makes his way to the bed, worming into the spot made to perfectly fit him.

He sinks into the softness and sighs.  At the very least, while his stomach is a mess, he doesn’t have to worry about any other part of him being uncomfortable.

“Thanks guys,” He mutters, spent.  He’s never going to even try and eat something with milk in it ever again, if this is the result.

“No prob,” Wakko waves off his thanks.

“You take care of us all the time.  Turnabout’s fair play,” Dot quips, and Yakko chuckles, sighing and closing his eyes.

He’s asleep faster than expected, but he stays awake long enough to feel Wakko and Dot cuddle up on either side of him, like usual.

Despite his intestinal discomfort, he smiles.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dot stares in the mirror.

Her new vanity is rather spectacular, and she’s been living on cloud nine since Yakko and Wakko finished it.  They’d nearly gotten into an argument while making it-evidently, Yakko couldn’t understand how Wakko could see all the pieces and put them together without numbers or instructions, and Wakko couldn’t understand how Yakko couldn’t understand how the pieces fit together when looking at them as a whole.

Boys.  She shakes her head and sighs, looking back at herself in the mirror.

She can see her brothers behind her.  They match, of course, they’re the Warner Brothers.  

The Warner Sister is alone.  

She’s not unaware of why she was made.  A token female character, eye candy, take your pick.  She’s both.  Made to fill in the tiny gap Hollywood makes for female representation while continuing the legacy that women are supposed to look and act pretty, and that’s it.

It makes her blood boil.  And yet, isn’t she falling into it?  She wants to be pretty, she likes being cute, but is that just because she’s supposed to?

She’s not even just cute, anyway!  She can nearly go toe to toe with Yakko when it comes to word play, and Wakko barely has her beat when it comes to strength.  So what if she’s cute?  She was drawn that way!

So why does it still feel so weird?

Her brow furrows.  It’s not like she can even prove to anyone that she’s better, anyway, because Yakko and Wakko likely wouldn’t care or know, and they’re stuck in this tower for forever.

“My name is Dot Warner,” She starts, a soft tune, “And I always get the final word.”

She misses musical numbers.  She misses having fun outside of this place.  She misses messing with people.  Yakko and Wakko seem so similar-their names rhyme, for Pete’s sake-and she feels out of place here.  But they were out of place together out there.

“I though your name was Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the third,” Yakko interjects, leaning a hand on her vanity.  “Surprised you forgot, sis,” It’s all gentle ribbing, but now is not the time.

“Oh, put a sock in it, Yakko,” She responds.

“Which one?” Wakko comes up on her other side, holding out two similarly disgusting socks for her to pick from.  She pushes him away.

“Leave me alone!” It comes out louder and harsher than she wants it to, and as a result Wakko looks bewildered, and Yakko lifts his hand from the vanity to move it to his hip.  “Go be-be gross boys somewhere else,” She tries to cover up the actual frustration with a weak excuse, but Yakko just crosses his arms and raises a brow, and Wakko walks back over, sans socks.

“What’s the matter, Sis?  Something’s bothering you,” She sighs at the question.

“You guys match better than me,” She grumbles.  “I’m the cute one, and that’s it?  You two get to be witty and strong and creative and funny and I’m just...,” She growls out the final word.  “Cute.”

She sees Yakko and Wakko share a look over her head, and rolls her eyes.

“You seriously think that’s all you are?” Yakko sounds...confused.  Bewildered.  Like her worry is so unfounded it’s surprising she even is worrying at all.

“You’re way cooler than that,” Wakko agrees.  “You’re smarter than me.”

“And you’re better at the physical jokes than me,” Yakko adds.

“I know,” She says, almost cheeky, but her mood refuses to lighten.  “But-I don’t know.  Iit’s not just that-I-I guess I miss doing stuff outside. Like songs.”

There’s a beat, and when she looks up, Yakko has a smile on his face that is nothing short of sly.

“Songs, you say?” He rubs in chin in thought.  “Wakko?”

“On it,” She watches as he pulls out instrument after instrument from his gag bag, until they practically have an orchestra.  Wakko also pulls out a conductor’s wand.

“Shall we, m’lady?” Yakko holds out his hand, and when she takes it, he pulls her to the middle of the room.  A spotlight lands on them, and the music starts.

“Her name is Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the third,” He begins with a wink, “and no matter the situation or confrontation, she always gets the final word,” Yakko’s tenor is sugary sweet as he dances her around the room, and he passes her off to Wakko, who leaves the self playing instruments to their own devices.

“If you think you can beat her, just wait till ya meet her, cause you’ll realize that thought is absurd,” Wakko’s voice has a grovel from the accent, and he makes silly faces as they waltz, to make her giggle.

“Sure she’s cute,” Yakko starts.

“Quite the beaut,”

“But she’s got the strength of a brute!” They harmonize, and she pulls out her mallet.  She watches as they cringe away in fake terror, and she does a fake swing before tossing the mallet away.  “So watch out, because if you make yourself a target she’ll shoot!”

She watches them laugh at the end of the line, and they do fit each other, don’t they?  But they’re going out of their way to do this for her, and so what does it matter?  Being different and being special are the same, depending on how you phrase it, and they don’t mind her being different at all.

The music keeps going, the piano leading into verse two.

“Don’t make her mad, don’t make her sad, if you want to keep your limbs intact,” Yakko twirls her, and she imagines being at a fancy Ball or Gala, surrounded by admirers. 

“She’s got all modes of attraction, and kneejerk reactions, it’s all just simple fact,” Wakko takes her for a spin himself, his movements more wild and less controlled than Yakko’s more straightforward dancing, but she loves it anyway, and is almost remiss when he passes her back to Yakko.

“She always tries her best,” Yakko dips her, low enough that her ears nearly touch the floor, and her tail presses close to her back.

“To be better from the rest,” Wakko continues.

“Because we all want to reach for the stars!” Yakko throws her up and she poses mid air before he catches her with his shoulders, letting her sit there.  She can’t help but laugh at the whole thing.

“She’s Dot Warner,” Every time they go into unison, it’s perfect harmony, and she loves it.  Them.

“Our giggling sister,”

“Does she know how much we’d miss her?”

The music pauses, and they look to her patiently, to join the song, and for a moment she hesitates.  Because she’s never had such a ballad before.  What if her voice doesn’t sound right?  What if she messes it up?

But Yakko and Wakko are smiling at her, as if they know she’ll do it right, and you know what.  Screw it.

“I’m Dot Warner!” She shouts, and the belting note rings as she jumps up. “I’m no one’s former!” The music swells, and she stands on Yakko’s shoulders, triumphant.  “I’m sweet and I’m tough!”

“Always more than good enough!” Wakko and Yakko crow as back up.

“And I’m better than why I was drawn!” It’s like a warrior cry, like she’s daring the world to tell her different.

“She’s charming,” Yakko.

“And alarming,” Wakko.

“In every role I’m starring, no longer just the token girl!” She hops down from Yakko’s shoulder, taking center stage.  This is what she is.  The breaking of her own role, just as loud and proud and wild as her siblings, with a touch of cuteness that she loves.  Because hey, what’s wrong with being cute?

“With wit and sass,” Yakko and Wakko start to finish.

“I’m the highest of class,” She interjects, giggling.

“She’s the best of our two worlds!” They all come together, Dot in the middle, the boys kicking out their outside legs and gesturing outwards with one arm as the music plays them out, and when the music number is over all Dot can do is drag her brothers together into a hug.

“Thank you,” because she needed this.  A sense of normalcy, the constant reminder that she’s more.  She knows why she was drawn, but who cares?  She’s better than that.

She’s Dot Warner,  Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the third, and she’s got her brothers behind her.  

And when she has them, nothing can stop her.

[crashcitycentral]

Bart has DID theory

Aha this is a long one... Adding onto my post a little bit ago cause I was on the train and didn't have enough rant energy-

Bart has eidetic memory, or Hyperthymesia, or photographic memory, whatever works for you. He remembers everything he's ever read, seen, or heard, but in some of the comic strips, it's him being confused about a certain series or event that happened, like he didn't recall it almost, which is almost impossible due to his advanced memory. One of the most common symptoms of Dissociative Identity Disorder is memory gaps when in a different personality. You have no idea how excited I am about this cause I have DID and positive representation, yes please. When I find the comic strips I'm talking about I'll repost and add them in but I'm on a rampage rn. Not even sorry.

Bart is known to have mood swings throughout the entire Impulse series, where he gets grumpy or pouty, things like that, but that childish nature could actually be a personality. He could feel robbed of his childhood since he couldn't "live it" due to his situation growing up, so he creates an entire persona to live like a child in his teenage body. Everyone always brushes it off to him being "a speedster", and the fact that he is ALSO supposed to represent a character with Autism and his ADHD plus ADD, it all kinda adds up, because he switches into this person sometimes that's sarcastic and has a more bleak outlook. He still is always there for his friends, even if they underappreciate the HECK out of him, but it wouldn't make sense in the sense that he's silly only because of his Hyper-changing Autism. AUTISM ISN'T A PERSONALITY PEOPLE. Honestly? The excuse that it's because he's a speedster doesn't add up either. Being a speedster can make him bored easily and he has a hyperglycemia diet where he has to eat full meals every two hours, but it doesn't explain why he so suddenly shifts into entirely new moods. being moody is one thing, but being Bart is a whole new can of worm on strings.

I think one of the biggest things to show this is when Jerico shot his knee using the body of Deathstroke. Before the incident, he never wanted to take up Wally's mantle because he thought it was disrespectful and he didn't deserve it, but after he was shot he took no hesitation in taking up the suit. That entire comic screwed me over because: 1, no one touches my baby Bart. 2, everyone was so rude to him like 24/7?? To BART of all people. 3, that gunshot would've done a LOT more damage then what they diagnosed him. A SHOTGUN was TWO INCHES from his knee and blast him from that space and they gave him a prosthetic kneecap? Excuse me, there'd be nothing LEFT to ATTATCH IT TO, but that's a rant for another time. What I'm getting at here is he wanted to exact his revenge on Jerico, which is typical, I would too if someone capped my knee. But he read the ENTIRE SAN FRANSICO LIBRARY IN ONE SITTING!! Bart, who HATES sitting in one place reading anything that isn't a comic read an entire LIBARAY and not some normal one, this one was MASSIVE. He learned everything about the human nervous system and used it against Slade to his advantage, before it was revealed it was actually Jerico.

SO, he took on the Kid FLash mantle, something he said he wouldn't do. He read an entire library in one sitting, something he wouldn't noramlly do. He became incredibly serious about his mission, something he normally isn't. His kid Flash persona is not him. His trauma from the experience added with his stress must've forced a new one to form, since he already Had his "Impulse" persona it was easy.

Bart Allen has DID and no one can change my mind.

[gabriel4sam]

Seventy-two varieties of root vegetable and other tasty things to discover (now that the Sith are dead); a Gen Obi-Wan story!

Written for theObi-Wan Kenobi Gen exchange and beta-ed by the charming @texasdreamer01

Under the cut, the fic! 

It was when he saw Ahsoka eyeing a beetle with keen interest than Obi-Wan decided it was time for an intervention. He had totally failed the culinary education of his own Padawan, he wouldn’t fail it in the same way for his Grandpadawan.

“You didn’t fail my education, Master, seriously-“

“-Shh, Anakin, I’m the one telling the story.”

The war was dying down, for no reasons the Jedi could exactly pinpoint. They were doing exactly the same things they had done for years, but this time the other side was answering their propositions of peace talks and, sector by sectors, the combats were stopping and tentative talks started.

The Senate was busy sending ambassadors left and right, companies were tentatively establishing commercial routes again, employment was going up and even Asajj Ventress was calming down, because after finally killing Dooku the only thing she apparently wanted was to roam the galaxy with a besotted Quinlan Vos trailing behind her like a besotted, if well-armed, puppy.  

How sad it was that a previously undiagnosed heart condition had taken Chancellor Palpatine before his time, before he could see the peace and harmony he had so wished for.

“Padmé will laugh so much when she hears you called her blaster an undiagnosed heart condition.”

“The joint investigation between the Judicial officers and the Jedi was thorough, Anakin. Heart condition.”

So, Anakin liked to eat worms, Ahsoka wasn’t far behind, the clones had only eaten rations for all their lives, and once a strange mushroom in Fives’ case. That had prompted hours of talking to the wall and giggling about stuff his foot was telling him, the right because the left was apparently quite rude. After seeing that, and also the way Fives had been ill after, none of the vode had wanted to test anything that wasn’t a ration sealed in vacuum and with the same taste every time, no matter what was written on the package.

Time for an intervention.

Obi-Wan had called his old friend Dex and asked for the permission to borrow his diner during the closing day.

Anakin had whined that it was a little hypocritical of Obi-Wan, who survived on tea, sass and more tea, with sometimes some algae biscuits thrown in it when Bant could corner him long enough, to comment on anyone’s eating habits.

“I didn’t whine!”

“You really did, my dear. And you do on a regular basis.”

Dex had said yes and even offered his diner, and more importantly his kitchen, every closing day when Obi-Wan was on Coruscant.

So, Obi-Wan had chosen his first tasters.

Ahsoka, of course, for who he had started all of that. Worms and beetles and other crawling things were fine in a pitch, he had himself sometimes indulged when Qui-Gon Jinn’s latest nonsense had thrown his Padawan self in the middle of a jungle with no rations. He could also admit that with the stress of the war, he had let his responsibilities erase his body’s normal hunger, but it was no more a time of war. Time to eat like a civilized sentient.

Anakin himself. Young Knight Obi-Wan, struggling with grief and -he could see it now- depression, had let this feral child keep his slave days habits in term of food: Anakin ate everything that couldn’t move away quick enough, in a latent fear there wouldn’t be something to fill his belly later. It was honestly heart-breaking.

It could also be heart-healing: the way the younger Jedi always insisted for Ahsoka to eat first… Obi-Wan will fight for every child in the galaxy to have enough, not like Anakin couldn’t when he was younger and now that the war is finishing, he hoped they could make a difference here.

Padme, because now that the so-called secret marriage was out in the open, he hoped he could spend more time with the young woman and deepen their nascent beginning friendship. The galaxy really could do with more friendship.

And Rex and Cody, the two vode they were closest to. Once those two had come back to the barracks in better shape than Fives after his mushrooms experience, the other vode could probably be convinced to try something else than rations.

Aaylala, who had just taken her first Padawan and would spend a year of Coruscant to better learn each other, had already put herself, the Padawan and Commander Bly on what she called jokingly “Master Kenobi’s dinner waiting list”. She wanted to explore with them the food of her home planet and reconnect with her culture.  Boil and Waxer could probably be convinced, too.

It meant the first experience had to be a success.

After his morning session with the Council, Obi-Wan had taken his afternoon off, that too being a new event in the Jedi Order. Most of the time, Bant or Anakin had too threaten to sit on him just for him going to bed. Everybody had sworn to never talk again about that time it had been so bad Master Windu himself really did have to sit on him for Obi-Wan just to take a nap.

“Speaking for yourself, Master, me, I’m never ever going to let you forget that one.”

He had slowly explored the closest market, feeling slightly nostalgic. Qui-Gon always had insisted food should be a fuel, not a passion. He had also said that taking pleasure in the taste, the smell, the hundreds of wonderful vegetables, fruits, meats, grains, offered by nature, that it was celebrating the joy of life, of the Force...

Obi-Wan realized he had forgotten that, in the despair of the war. Now, he took pleasure in choosing fresh produce for the people he loved. Around him, the market was bustling with life. People laughing, speaking, tasting, vendors celebrating their products… It was the season for one of the biggest food import of Coruscant. It was some citrus fruit which had the very rare peculiarity, a very rare one, to be edible for all known sentients. The smell was everywhere in the market, fresh and cleansing and Obi-Wan had taken a bite of one with a groan of pleasure the moment he had purchased them, the juice sweet and slightly acidic at the same time.

When he got to the dinner, he cooked with the same deep happiness of preparing something easy, nutritious and tasty for his family. He had decided to make it simple for the first time, not wanting to push the boundaries of Cody and Rex. Going from rations to a nine-course meal would probably be overkill.

Obi-Wan himself tended to a vegetarian diet, like Qui-Gon had, but he hadn’t always had a choice, and Ahsoka’s body needed an animal based died in a way human didn’t, so he had dismissed his all-time favourite recipe, a creamy vegetable pie a young Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi had learned from a young senatorial aid Bail Organa.

He prepared a stew which he had learned from Kit Fisto, with a lot of root vegetables and some river fish, aromatic bark from the Gold system and just a little touch of black salt. Soon, the entire diner smelled of Obi-Wan’s teenage years, when he and Bant did their homework and Kit Fisto prepared dinner.

Obi-Wan had a smile on his face, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. He should call Bant, soon. Perhaps she and some of their other childhood friends could come the next time….For dessert, he cleaned yellow, purple and red berries from Naboo, to honour Padmé, to be eaten with fresh cheese.

Nothing very complicated. Just simple food, to share and to rejoice in the new chance of the galaxy.

“To the peace?” Padmé proposed for toast at the beginning of the meal and all, they raised their glasses.

“To the peace,” they repeated in answer.

Seated between Cody and Rex, Obi-Wan explained sotto voce what exactly they were eating. He explained the planet of origin of every vegetable –

“Because everything has to be an occasion for a lecture.”

“Anakin, if you don’t stop, you will be in charge of the washing-up. And I used a lot of saucepans.”

Rex was very, very cautious with his first taste. He had been there when Fives had vomited everything he had ever eaten, and had been slightly alarmed once Obi-Wan had explained what a root vegetable was.

“Doesn’t seem very hygienic.” Was his opinion.

It changed after first taste and his plate was quickly cleaner than a ship before the admiral’s inspection.

Cody was more curious about why different sorts of vegetables had been designed.

“Waste of resources,” he decided, “one per species of sentient who wanted to eat them would have been sufficient.”

Obi-Wan hadn’t laughed. How could Cody, raised in the sterile environment of Kamino, know better about the extraordinary abundance of nature? In his own plate, he had picked a small section of one of the root vegetables he had chosen.

“This is a red stachys”, he explained, “the species comes from a planet all the way in the Outer Rim. It was only present on one of their landmasses, but as it isn’t attacked by fungus or insect pests, it’s now cultivated on all the planets and a lot of other agricultural worlds.”

Anakin made a face. He hated agricultural worlds, mostly for the smell. The desert boy loved his cities.

Obi-Wan smiled at his former Padawan’s face but continued:”Today, you can easily find seven, sometimes ten subspecies in Coruscant markets, but on the original world, where the people had centuries to select cultivars, you can find seventy-two cultivars. And it is only one of the vegetables you can find there.”

“Seventy-two!!”

Cody looked a little more at Obi-Wan’s spoon and the innocent little selection of vegetables swimming in the rich-tasting sauce.

“And every world…”

“Every world has its own food. Every ancient country, you could say. Every area. Sometimes every town has its own speciality.”

It was Cody’s turn to make a face. Not surprising: after years of ration, the abundance of possibilities seemed strange to his mind.

“It tends to be a little standardized today,” Obi-Wan admitted, “but a lot of people are working hard on preserving heirloom varieties and culinary traditions…”

Cody stabbed a bit of fish with his own cutlery and tasted it, chewing cautiously.

On the other side of the table, Padmé and Anakin were flirting. Anakin’s lines were terrible but Padmé’s own use of Naboo flowery poetry wasn’t exactly better.

Next to Cody, Rex and Ahsoka were whispering something about putting joy back in the Senate and something very suspicious about dye that Obi-Wan and Cody definitely weren’t hearing, because that one would be Commander Fox’s problem.

Cody tasted a yellow stachys, stolen directly from Obi-Wan’s plate because there were only red in his own plate. Then he tried again a red, pairing it with a green kidney-shaped pod.

“And that?” He asked, poking another pod.

“Magnolens. Seldom grown today, originated from the world of Glee Anselm.”

Cody seemed lost in thought, so Obi-Wan let him chew in peace, instead discussing literature with Padmé. They had all sworn they wouldn’t speak of work tonight, so every time they drifted to politics, Anakin interrupted them by stealing a kiss from Padmé.

It was a rousing and pleasant success.

“Master?” Ahsoka asked later, when she was helping with cleaning Dex’s kitchen. It would probably be neater than before their arrival.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Can I come to the market with you next time? And I think Rex would like it too.”

“Of course you can.” She gave him a sudden hug, surprising him.

From the kitchen, Obi-Wan could see the rest of them, Padmé and Cody lost in debate, Anakin just finishing his third helping of dessert.  Rex had taken apart his own dessert, testing the berries one by one.

His former Padwan sensed their gazes and turned to them, a smile on his face. His eyes were clearer than they had been in years, and Obi-Wan felt pride and happiness swell in him.

“You would be very welcome, my dear,” He answered his Grandpadawan.

[honeypwark]

[ Riverside ]

  ↳ Gone Days era

       ↳ Xiang interrupts Chan and Jisung. She and Chan take a walk. She finally tells someone.

Note: Maybe reread Quitter and Turbulence before reading?

TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains a detailed explanation of how Xiang developed and lived with her eating disorder. Please do not read if this is triggering for you.

m.list

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Chan sits at his desk with Jisung beside him, explaining how different chords in the same spot will change the feel of the song and he should choose based on what vibe he wants the song to have.

“I kind of want it to not just cut off. Like it’s leading to more even after the song’s ended.”

“G7 might work better then.”

“G7...?”

Chan plays the chord on the keyboard to his left.

“Oh, got it.”

“As opposed to G.” He plays said chord.

“Alright. And for the second verse I wanted to-“

There’s a soft knock on the door, “Chris?”

Chan turns in his desk chair, his attention immediately going to the girl that walks into the room.

“Hey, Sophie.”

It’s been three days since Xiang’s breakdown in the bathroom at four in the morning. The next morning, Xiang had promised she’d talk to Chan about what caused it but she’d need time. He gave her time, not even mentioning what had happened. Of course, without any kind of explanation, Chan has been left to worry about every little thing and see all the worst case scenarios for the last few days.

“Do you wanna go for a walk?”

“What? Is he your dog or something?”

Xiang’s eyes land on Jisung, who she hadn’t noticed when she’d entered, too tunnel visioned on finally growing a pair and talking about her issues. It took her nearly an hour to knock on Chan’s door and ask to go somewhere to talk privately. Her momentary false bravery crumbles visibly on her face as she realizes Chan is busy.

“Oh, sorry. You’re busy.”

“No, it’s fine,” Chan says quickly, stopping her from leaving. He turns to Jisung, “We’ll finish later, alright?”

Jisung is confused but nods slowly, “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Jisung watches as his leader saves everything on his computer without his usual attention to detail, scrambling out of his chair after Xiang as she walks back out of the room. He blinks after him confusedly, rolling his eyes before packing up his laptop to return to his own bedroom.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After taking a bus to Han River and walking along the riverside for about five minutes in silence, Xiang is still struggling with beginning to lay it all out for Chan. She squeezes the linings of her jacket pockets, the joints of her fingers aching from the strength behind it.

“Do you want to sit?” Chan asks, pointing toward a bench they’re approaching.

“Not really.”

“Okay.”

Xiang takes a deep breath in. She breathes it out slowly. She relaxes her hands in her pockets.

“I have an eating disorder.”

Chan wishes he could say that her admitting that makes everything fall into place. That he can say he’s noticed her acting strange. That he can admit he’s been worried about her weight loss. But he can’t. Because he didn’t notice those things. He’s aware of her weight loss (she‘s trended on Naver a few times because of her light weight) but he never thought of it as the outcome of something terrible. Dammit, he should have.

“Y-You do?” he stammers.

“Yeah. It probably started when our manager told me the company wanted me to lose weight. I don’t blame him, I really don’t. He was just doing his job. But... it got me thinking and I decided to eat less and work out more and that’s where it all started. It wasn’t that bad to begin with. I had control of what I was doing and it was like being in a diet. I’ve never been the most mentally sound person; I have clinically diagnosed anxiety, depression, and depersonalization but that’s a whole other can of worms.”

Now that she’s started, it’s easier to lay it all out.

“After I decided to eat less, I started skipping meals. In my mind it made sense. To lose weight, eat less. So I did. I started lying to you and the others about eating, saying I had when I hadn’t or that I wasn’t hungry when I was. It went on like that for a while, just not eating and working out a lot more. But I felt so guilty when I did eat. When I couldn’t avoid it.

“So I started making myself throw up. It all piled on top of each other and I barely ever ate and kept it down. I probably started eating a meal or two every three or four days. For a while that’s what I did. I lost so much weight. It was so unhealthy. I weighed myself before we left for tour in America and I was 37.6 kilograms.

“I felt like I was going to pass out during the entire performance in New York. I only woke up at six in the evening the next day. I was scared that the next time I went to sleep, I wouldn’t wake up. That my body would just give out on me. So I went and ate pizza with the younger boys. I started eating at least once a day because I had to do my job. I still didn’t eat enough but... it was something.

“And that should have been good. I should have been proud of myself for starting to take care of myself but I wasn’t. I hated myself for eating. I started gaining weight. I realized one night that what I thought I had control of I didn’t because I can’t control how much I hate myself.

“I went out with Yeosu one night and I ate more than I had in such a long time. I felt so guilty and I started rambling to her about my problems. But I ran away before she could even respond. I tried to stop on my own because Yeosu is so amazing and so famous and she’s mentally fine. And I got a little better. But then the company asked for an update on our weights and they told me not to get heavy again.

“It felt like doing what was best for me wasn’t what I needed to do. Like maybe this is the cost of being who I am and doing what we do. I just spiraled and I got worse than I’d ever been. That’s when you found me. I hadn’t eaten in two days and I was so hungry but I couldn’t make myself keep what I’d eaten down. I don't know how to stop doing this to myself and I want to stop but I just can't.”

Xiang takes a breath, closing her eyes for a moment.

Chan is impressed with how well Xiang has handled her emotions while explaining everything to him. Simultaneously, his heart is aching from the story she has told him and how well she’s handled her emotions. Chan can’t help but wonder how many times she has felt like the world is crashing down around her and he was none the wiser.

“When did this start? When did our manager- When did the company say you should lose weight?”

“... Late June?”

Nine months. Nine months Xiang has been dealing with her eating disorder. And before that, anxiety, depression, and personalization. Chan has his own qualms with anxiety and depression occasionally but he’s not even sure what depersonalization is. But as Xiang said, that’s a whole other can of worms.

“It’s just-,” Xiang looks for the right words to continue. “I’ve developed so much self-hatred. I never feel good enough. I never feel pretty or talented. Even with the mess my mentality has always been, I used to be able to be content with the music I make or the performances I give. Now, I just hate everything about myself. I wish I could just deal with this on my own and I'm sorry I've dragged you into this mess. But believe me I won't hold it against you if you want to back out now-"

"Sophie.”

Chan steps in front of Xiang to face her.

“I don't know how to prove to you that I will always be here for you.”

It hurts more than he would have thought when she lets out a tiny, humorless breath of a laugh, disbelieving. She takes a deep breath and looks up at the overcast sky.

“I‘m so tired of everything.”

She closes her eyes.

“I just want it to stop.”

“It will,” Chan says. “And you’re not going to deal with this alone anymore.  Know why?"

When Xiang lowers her head, Chan can see she’s barely holding back tears. She gives a minuscule shake of her head.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Nearly two and a half years ago, Xiang stood in front of Chan in a recording studio. She’d come to tell Chan she should leave the group. He’d called her a quitter and wouldn’t let her walk out on the group.

“Why can’t you just let me do this?” she asked, not understanding how Chan can’t see the problems she’s causing.

“Because I’m not giving up on you,” he responded.

Xiang swallowed, trying not to let her emotions get the better of her. Chan stood and wrapped her in a hug.

“And I’m not gonna let you give up on me.”

Xiang hesitated but looped her arms around Chan.

“We’re in this together, understand?”

Xiang smiled and let her head rest on his shoulder.

“I understand.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Because I'm not giving up on you."

At the riverside, Chan pulls Xiang into a hug, wrapping his arms securely around her shoulders.

“And I’m not letting you give up on me. We’re in this together, understand?”

Over two years later, Chan has kept his word. Before she’d started starving herself, before her mental state depleted further than it had ever been, he’d told her that they are a team and he won’t let her quit on him. And he’s kept to that.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

On the plane ride home to South Korea from America, Chan had comforted Xiang when she’d been anxious and fearful during turbulence. She’d thought about Chan. What he’d done for her and how he’d treated her.

Despite her self-loathing and her anxiety. And the way she’s convinced herself she’ll never be good enough. Or how she can only ever feel pretty on an empty stomach, hunger clawing at her insides in a painful way she’s grown fond of. Amidst it all, being next to Chan makes her feel safe.  Chan makes her feel safe.  Safety is something Xiang has been having a hard time finding for months now.

She realizes that if she could, she would never leave his side.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Here, beside Han River in Chan’s arms, she feels safe. She feels... loved. And the idea- the fact that Chan cares for her and has been by her side, even unknowingly, through all of this brings her to tears.

Xiang buries her face in Chan’s shoulder and wraps her arms tightly around him, crying hard into the material of his jacket. And Chan lets her. He holds her tighter against him and lets her cry, a hand coming to cradle the back of her head comfortingly. She’s safe here. She’s safe with Chan.

And she realizes that if she could, she would never leave his side.

[punkrock-writer]

Space Cowboy- part 5

Never Fight a Man With a Perm

Pairing- Din Djarin x F!OC 

Warnings- Swearing, Mentions Blood, Canon Typical Violence. The Gang from Chapter 6 are dicks. 

A/N- Howdy!! I’m so sorry this took so long to come out. I had a bad case of brain rot this past week and did not want to type, but it’s here and I hope ya’ll like it! I’m kind of nervous about this chapter because this was the situation that inspired the entire story, so please let me know what you think! 

I’m going to try to have the next chapter out quicker! Put who knows, I got worms in my brain! 

Masterlist AO3 

After almost taking another roll around the ship — thanks to Din's lack of a warning — Sedona was now aware of what hyperspace felt like. It was actually rather calm, quiet, and still. She wished she could see it, but she didn't really know if she should attempt to enter the cockpit. Instead, turning to face her bags, she figured it was a good time to get some real clothes on. The child cooed sadly when she set him down in the sleeping compartment, and though she hated to, she ignored him and knelt by her suitcase. Searching for something somewhat warm through the clothes that were packed for Florida was proving difficult. She settled on black leggings, an old grey Ron Jon Surf Shop hoodie, and a pair of soft crew socks. A sports bra and a fresh pair of underwear completed the 'look' and she gathered her things and headed to the shower room.

Not before quickly turning back and grabbing her deodorant, because, yuck.

With a deep breath, she decided it was finally time to look at herself.

Nothing was exciting or truly different to note about the person reflected back to her in the foggy mirror. It was the same girl, blue eyes, short brown hair, but now there was a brand new massive bruise on her left temple. Her dark circles were deeper, and her eyes were tired. But other than the wound there was nothing new. She discarded her pajamas, and slipped into the clean clothes, she never thought it would feel this good to be fully covered. Her arms all the way to her toes now concealed in comfortable fabric, and she was grateful. She quickly put her hair into a folded bun, and set to her second task, putting that extra bacta patch on her head.

Peli made it look much easier. Whatever it was, was slimy and hard to get a grip on, but once it was placed, it stuck. So now she had a slightly lopsided, oversized band-aid on her head. And she knew it was going to hurt like a bitch to yank out of her hair. Taking one last look in the mirror, she sighed.

Honestly, she looked like she was about to go take a plane trip back home, and it tugged her heart a little bit.

Shaking her head she picked her things back up and opened the door to exit into the hull. A shiny helmet of beskar startled her, he must've just jumped down from the cockpit, as he was facing her through the ladder. She tried not to think too much about the way he stared for a bit too long, most likely just assessing her change in appearance. Before she could say anything he turned sharply, stepping over to where the child pouted in the sleeping compartment. She scooted by them, heading to put her things back in her bag. And when she straightened up to see what he was doing, he was already halfway up the ladder, taking the child with him.

Sedona tried not to dwell on it too much, it's not like he knew her, he barely even trusted her. He didn't owe her any more kindness than he was already giving her. But it really didn't help when she felt like she knew him. She needed to get that idea out of her head, she didn't know jack shit about what went through his head. Seeing someone on screen is so much different than actually being around them, and Sedona had to make sure she didn't get too comfortable too fast— she couldn't afford any slip-ups. So for now she would take it slow, tiptoe around the Crest, and do what she needed to do when called.

In pursuit of being quiet, she decided now might be a good time to check her phone. She settled herself in the sleeping compartment, purse in her lap, and plucked it from the bag. The time read 10:34 am, and obviously, there was no way of telling if that was right. Her calendar read two days since she had been ripped from her hotel room, and she was pretty sure that would be reliable. As long as she had some way of knowing how long she'd been here, she could keep herself grounded.

It didn't even cross her mind that she should try to find some way to get back home.

Sedona dozed off after a while, curled around her purse in the sleeping compartment. Her circadian rhythm was thrown off, or maybe it was like some kind of space-sickness. She was just tired, and she didn't know what else to do. The plot was getting scrambled in her head, and until Din jogged her mind in some way, she wasn't going to risk getting a headache thinking about it.

So she slept, the soft hum of hyperspace lulling her into relaxation, no matter how uncomfortable the bed was.

~o~o~o~

That was how Din found her a few hours later. Curled like a lothcat around one of her smaller bags. The child gurgled in happiness at the sight of her— he was the reason they were down there, wailing incessantly at the ladder. He didn't understand why he liked her so much, but if he trusted anyone, it was the child. So he set him down next to her knees, a position they had just recently been in. The child began climbing up her legs, and Din could only look on in amusement as she grumbled something incoherent.

The toddler reached his intended destination, her shoulder, and began to tap his tiny hands on her cheek. Din couldn't stop a small smile from breaking his features, thankful for the helmet once again. Her eyes popped open, panic clear on her features as she turned to look at what was tapping her face, and a smile overtook her.

"Hey little guy, how'd you get up there." Din pretended not to notice the roughness of her voice or the sleepy smile that turned to face him. "Oh I see now, you had an accomplice."

She slowly sat up, taking care to hold the child steady. She folded her legs in front of her, setting him in her lap. The child smiled up at him, and before he could stop himself, a gloved hand reached out and stroked his ear. Din wasn't used to showing affection in front of others, especially people he didn't fully trust. But the atmosphere was so relaxed, and it seems his body reacted before his mind could stop it.

"Did we stop somewhere?" Her quiet voice broke him out of his trance, his head snapped back up to meet hers. She looked worried, her eyes searched the helmet, and her teeth caught her bottom lip. Din told himself he was just observing a possible threat, analyzing her tells.

Subconsciously, that was a different story.

"No," he paused to clear his throat when it came out in a whisper. "I've picked up a job, I'm changing our course, and we'll be there in an hour... I just—" well Din didn't really know why exactly he felt the need to warn her. "I just wanted to know if you had... anything to tell me." Right, just trying to get information. Her eyes seemed to light up in recognition, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Who- or what is the job exactly." She looked confused still, her eyes zoned in on something in the distance, deep in thought.

"It's with an old... acquaintance of mine." His voice was rougher than he intended, still not really enjoying the idea of the job. But by the way her eyes darkened, he knew it was probably going to be a big mistake.

~o~o~o~

Sedona's mind instantly hooked onto the information and dragged it from the depths of the scramble. This situation, she knew well. This episode, she had watched, many times. For the plot... not for the way the red lights danced off beskar or the amazingly hot fight scenes.

No for the plot.

She knew what she needed to do.

"They betray you, they're going to try and shove you in a cell and leave you there... and a droid tries to shoot the baby— and they're all massive dicks, every one of them." Okay. That sounded crazy, she didn't mean for everything to tumble out like that. According to the way Din suddenly stood straight and alert, she probably didn't say the right things. "Wait... but you get out of it, no one gets hurt— except for the assholes— but they deserved it a-and you get money."

He just stood there, still as a rock. She couldn't imagine how all of that sounded to him. He probably didn't even know what the mission was supposed to be, and she had already informed him it was doomed from the start.

Yeah, I gotta work on the info delivery.

He let out a long sigh. His fingers twitched at his side, he probably would've rubbed his forehead in frustration if he could. She could feel herself shrinking in the silence, she unconsciously held onto the baby in her lap a little tighter. He cooed at her, seemingly sensing her anxiety. His little 3 clawed hands tapped at hers that held his waist.

"Well... like I said, an hour." He then turned and quickly made his way to the ladder. Climbing into the cockpit in almost record time. Sedona let a long sigh escape her, bringing one hand up to rub her eyes. She wasn't tired anymore, anxiety had squandered that quickly.

She had to either, A. Figure out some way to keep Din from being tricked and captured. Or B. Make sure Grogu doesn't alert the droid of his presence. For some reason, the situation felt wrong. She knew this mission was on course to go sour, but there was a bad feeling whispering at the edges of her mind.

Everything was feeling super, extra, bad and it was making her stomach hurt.

Or maybe she was just fucking starving.

Sedona realized she had never eaten the 'bar' Peli had given her. And an all-liquid diet the day before probably wasn't helping her whole, situation. Moving the child from her lap, she placed her feet on the ground. Thankful for her socks as the cold of the metal seeped through the fabric. She walked over to her suitcase— not really remembering where she had put the food— the entire evening leading up to her fight with Toro was a blur. When she didn't find it in her purse, she searched through her suitcase. Her hands touched the foil wrapping, and suddenly there was another presence at her side.

The little green gremlin was a bloodhound for food, it was like he read her mind and teleported to her. Letting out an excited squeal when she brought the bar into view, Sedona couldn't help but laugh with him. Sitting cross-legged in front of her suitcase she invited him to sit with her. And with more adorable grunts and snorts he sat down in between her legs, eyes never leaving the bar.

"Okay we can share, but don't tell your dad" she whispered, he made a soft coo in response. The bar looked like someone had put a granola bar through a grinder, and then reformed it back into a bar. Not exactly the most appetizing thing, but food was food, and the little guy seemed excited. She broke off a small piece— yes she had witnessed the child swallow a frog whole— but he was so little in front of her, so she went by baby rules and gave him something small. He grabbed it in his little hands, and then she broke off a piece for herself.

It was dry, and tasted kind of like a protein bar, but not at all like a protein bar. It was just different, but with the way the child inhaled it, she knew it was probably worth eating. They carried on like this till it was gone, Grogu munching happily, not minding the crumbs that fell into his lap. She was able to choke it down with the assistance of the water bottle that still sat in her purse. But eating didn't seem to help the way her stomach twisted in worry. When she wasn't distracting herself by watching the child, her mind wandered dangerously.

She couldn't tell if the walls her mind had put up the moment she dropped on the Crest were finally crumbling. Or if something was actually wrong. Her head was starting to hurt again, and now with a stomach ache, she felt like she was starting to break down. She needed another distraction.

Crumbling up the wrapper she turned to her suitcase. The child babbled a little, probably wondering if she had more food. Instead, she was just looking for anything; she moved through everything in the bag, toiletries, bras, a journal. And then she felt something solid. Her boots! She had honestly figured she didn't have any shoes here. Those had been the first thing to come out of her suitcase when she got to her hotel. But now, pulling her work boots from the depths, it was the first time she had actually been excited to see them. They were beat up hiking boots, with the perfect amount of ankle support and non-slip bottom to make it in space.

"Well, are you gonna let me put these on or what?" She said to the child in her lap, he tilted his head with a coo. She slowly started to straighten her legs, he made a squeal and then started to wiggle away from her. She laughed, helping him get off her lap and setting him to the side. He grunted, loudly, instantly very mad at her. She chuckled again, trying not to notice the way her hands shook as she began to lace up her boots.

Grogu toddled over to the ladder, reaching his arms up toward the cockpit. She couldn't help the smile, she finished tying her boots, standing, and headed over to the child. He was hanging from the 3rd rung of the ladder, obviously getting his speed from his father, she was able to catch him just as his 3 fingers slid off the metal. She rose and looked up with anticipation, obviously he wanted to go up there, and that meant she would have to... talk to Din.

She swallowed, but the baby in her arms let out an impatient squeal, reaching his arms up. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Um... D-Mando" she called, catching herself on the name quickly. "G-The kid wants to come up, i-is it alright if I bring him up." She hated the way she was stumbling through this, it shouldn't be that difficult to ask, but she almost shaking in fear at the prospect of being dropped off on the next planet. Her subconscious was telling her the Din she knew wouldn't do that, but this wasn't the Din she 'knew', this was a stranger. God, why did this have to be so complicated?

There was a long daunting pause. "Just don't touch anything." She let out a sigh of relief, and quickly attempted the climb to the cockpit. Proving to be much trickier with one hand. Her head breached the hole, and in front of her was something amazing. The cockpit of the Razor Crest lit up with the blue streaks of hyperspace. She stopped, awestruck at all of the buttons and levers, all of the details laid out before her. She didn't even notice the child wiggling out of her grasp.

It was beautiful, but also so terrifying. She watched the expanse of space whiz by, something her mind could've never been able to comprehend. And as she stared, she didn't notice when the pilot's chair slowly turned.

"You can come inside." She jumped at his voice, eyes meeting the helmet she didn't know was facing her. She quickly shut her mouth, just now realizing Grogu had made his way to Din's lap. Slowly, she finished the climb up the ladder and found herself at the door to the cockpit. Tentatively she stepped inside, eyes still wide in wonder, and made her way to the chair behind Din's left shoulder. He turned back to the controls, or more back to making sure the child didn't touch anything. She sat down slowly, still not entirely certain this was all real.

Swirling blue was constantly moving above and before her, it was mesmerizing, she felt herself getting lost in it. She could probably look at it for the rest of her life. It was the perfect distraction. Or until someone broke her from her daze, but she didn't expect that to happen anytime soon. Instead, she sat quietly, trying to take up as little space in the room as she could. Her thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind, she was allowed this brief moment of peace.

Sedona had held it together surprisingly well, though it was more likely she was in shock. Numb is what she would call it, seeing everything moving around her, but she didn't really feel it. A mild form of disassociation is probably what a therapist would tell her, her body was in survival mode while her brain just followed, screaming from the shadows. But at this current moment, her mind was quiet, the rolling blue was enough.

Comfortable silence, the baby sleeping, his snores being the only thing breaking through the hum of hyperspace. The pair sat quietly for what seemed to be a long time. It was the first moments of calm both had experienced at the same time, hopefully, it wouldn't be the last. In the past, the silence would have irked her, gnawed at her stomach. She probably would've started a conversation with anyone in the room. But now, it felt okay, her mind felt at ease for the first time since she'd got here. She ignored the voice that whispered, maybe it's him.

A sudden beeping broke through the serene atmosphere, Sedona jumped, while Din only moved his helmet. His hands reached out to flick some switches and punch some buttons.

She secretly wished she might be able to figure out what it all meant, but she wasn't going to get her hopes up.

"We're dropping out of hyperspace, hold on." It was an off-hand comment she realized because she didn't even have time to straighten in her spine when the ship seemed to lurch forward. Her hands flew to her sides, gripping the seat quickly. With the sudden movement, all of her anxieties flew into her throat. And as another giant space ship came into view, another emotion came forward.

Rage.

"Oh, those fuckers." The words were growled out before she even knew her mouth was open. Her eyes widening in surprise as a T-shaped visor snapped to face her. She could only shrug in response, it was the truth. Deep down, she was glad to know her shock-induced state hadn't taken everything from her, she could still talk some smack.

That was going to cause problems.

"You're staying on the ship, with the child." He had turned back to the controls, grasping the handles with gloved hands. The child in question had just woken up, cooing curiously at the scene change. "Make sure he doesn't cause any trouble, or whatever you said happens." She heard him and understood. But she was focused on trying to figure out how the hell she was going to hold her tongue when she knew what was about to happen. Din seemed to notice her unease, his helmet shifted slightly toward her, most likely confused by the white-knuckle grip she still had on the seat.

"You're going to have to gag me." The realization came suddenly, it was the only way, she did not trust herself to keep quiet. Din fully spun to face her now, even without seeing his face she could tell he was surprised and mad. She aimed for his eyes beneath the black visor, "It's the only way to shut me up." He let out a long sigh, that ended more in a frustrated growl.

"Are you serious?" His voice was sharp, serious disbelief. She nodded, it was ridiculous she knew, but with all the choice words swirling in her head, and the way she didn't have full control of herself, it really was the only way. With another growl-sigh he leaned down, ripping off a strip of material from his cape, and handed it to her, then he more or less shoved the child in her lap. "Just go— take him to the sleeping compartment, and... do it yourself."

She stood and left quickly, not wanting to anger him further. She staggered her way down the ladder, Grogu laughing at her struggles. She was panicking, her eyes darted over everything quickly, setting the child in the compartment she went over to her things. She zipped her suitcase closed, then hooked the handle to one of the nets that hung on the wall, hoping that would keep it out of way. Then with her purse, she made her way over to Grogu and climbed in after him. He babbled excitedly, not picking up on the frazzled emotions that were rolling off her in waves.

"We are going to have a totally chill time in here." She said to the child, though it was also mostly to herself. She adjusted till her back was against the wall, and allowed Grogu to clamber onto her lap. "It's gonna be totally cool and nothing bad is going to happen, alright?" Her voice had risen multiple octaves, and it seemed the gremlin had finally caught on to her panic. He tilted his head at her, making a much smaller, almost sadder sound. She instantly felt bad; making shushing noises, she rubbed his little back as he pouted up at her. The ship started to wobble, Din was maneuvering it into the bigger space ship, she held onto the little creature. And with a big thump, they were stopped.

Sedona let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Grogu's ears seemed to perk up at that, he settled down onto her lap. Listening carefully to the noises above her, she could hear Din moving around before steps began to descend on the ladder. He paused in front of the compartment, carefully observing the situation. Sedona could only stare back, doing her best not to let him know how scared she was, but he probably had a fear sensor on his helmet. Before he could turn away her voice betrayed her again.

"Di-Mando... could I have a weapon." It was a whisper, she was doing the best she could to hold herself together. But this was becoming more and more real by the second. He stared at her for much longer than she wanted, even Grogu made a small whine at the atmosphere. Then his hand moved to his wrist, tapping something, and a compartment opened adjacent to the one she was in. She peaked around the corner, eyes widening at all of the weapons laid out. And she almost laughed at the sight of her pink taser, placed there among all of the space gadgets. He grabbed that, setting it in front of her.

Without a word, he turned, fingers working at his wrist again. Almost simultaneously, the weapons doors and the door to her compartment shut. While the side ship door opened. She and Grogu were alone in the dimly lit compartment. He turned to look at her, head tilting in confusion. And she could only shrug in response.

There was silence on the ship for what felt like hours. Sedona and Grogu sat quietly, only the child breaking the silence with his babbles. She would shush him quickly; not really knowing when the crew would be joining the ship, and she didn't want their cover blown sooner than it needed to be. When his fussing became a bit more persistent, she gave him her keys that were still tucked in her purse. His big eyes widened further, entranced by the shiny metal and jingles.

Because how else do you calm a baby you don't know what to do with, you give it your keys. Fuck.

A heavy sigh passed through her as she leaned her head back against the wall. She's trying desperately to keep her emotions under control, obviously, Grogu could sense them, so if she was calm, he was calm. And that was most important right now. Her mind was constantly on edge, just waiting for something to happen. She didn't want to tie her mouth yet, fearing it would startle the child. Instead, she chewed on her lip, distracted by the soft tinkling of her keys.

The wait was soon over.

Metallic footsteps were making their way up the ramp. Thinking fast she tied the strip of fabric around her mouth, then held the child close. He cooed, moving his head up to face her before his ears flicked up in surprise. She tried to give him a smile.

It definitely looked absolutely horrifying.

His little features contorted into a frown, and a whimper was heard before the footsteps on the ship drew closer. They both snapped their heads to stare at the unmoving compartment door. Ears perked, listening closely as she heard someone ascend to the cockpit. There were noises outside of the ship, people were gathering, she felt her heart rate increase sharply. She squeezed them further into the corner of the compartment. The mattress creaked so loudly in the silence, but thankfully the noises coming from above them seemed to drown it out.

Her brain had ceased its flow of information. She wasn't sure who entered the ship first, it could be Din for all she knew. But she knew there were about to be a lot more people, and then shit was going to go down. Her mouth had gone dry thanks to the fabric, and the child had started to whine. She tried to shush him, but it came out more in weird hissing sounds. His eyes bugged out as he looked at her in fear, pushing his arms against her chest. She moved to set him down behind her, pretending her heart didn't break at the sight. She maneuvered herself more to the front of the compartment, leaving the keys behind for him.

She almost didn't notice the grumbling that followed the metallic clink of someone leaving the ship. The person was complaining, aggressively, but the voice was definitely not human.

Of course. That shitty droid.

The one emotion that had been hardest to keep at bay was rising up again. It coiled in her throat, sharpening her tongue with nasty thoughts. She hated this group, and all the shit they say to Din and the violent betrayal. She didn't know how she was going to be able to handle it if it happens right in front of her— the fabric in her mouth was going to be her saving grace. She really did not want to risk making this even worse for Din than it already would be.

And sure, she knows they get their due karma in the end. But the nagging pit in her stomach, the feeling of wrong, was eating her alive. She reached for the taser that sat at the front of the compartment and maneuvered her back to Grogu. If that compartment opens, she was going to fight like hell.

And that's how she waited.

And waited.

Back turned to the child as he jangled her keys around. She waited as voices crept closer to the Crest. As someone made their way up the ramp, then another. Until something was set down with a heavy thump, and a murmur of voices filled the hull. No one was really saying anything of importance, just fighting about who got to sit where. Sedona turned her head back to the child, who was now also listening attentively. His ears perked, owlish eyes met hers, the keys now forgotten in his little hands. He made a small 'ooo' sound and pointed to the compartment door, and she shrugged, holding her finger up to her mouth in a shushing motion.

Then there was the sound of the hatch closing, her head snapped back to the door. Trying to picture the scene behind the metal. She heard someone climbing the ladder, and then there was more grumbling. It wasn't long after, the ship began to move, she braced her hands behind her back as the compartment rocked. She looked back at the child, who was now back to jangling the keys around, she tried not to cringe at the sound, hoping they couldn't hear it.

She couldn't help thinking how insane this was. She was sitting in a space ship with a little green alien, gagged, and listening to other aliens argue. Her breath had started to quicken, and she could feel her pulse thumping in her neck.

This is so fucked up. What the hell am I even doing here. I'm going crazy-

Her spiraling thoughts were cut off when she felt a small hand on her back. She turned, blinking away a tear that had formed in her eye. Grogu made a tiny coo, his eyes wide. She instantly felt bad, he could sense her distress and it was making him feel bad. But she almost let out a sob when the little creature leaned forward, setting both his arms on her back in a tiny hug. A strangled noise tore through her throat, lifting one of her hands to pat his wrinkled little head. He made a snorting noise, one of the cutest things in the world, before plopping down and playing with the keys again. The interaction so small, but it had immediately calmed her down.

God, I can see why everyone loves this little shit.

She felt the atmosphere speed up, and the telltale feeling of hyperspace overtook the ship. A sound she recognized made her snap her head back to the door. The weapons hold adjacent to the sleeping compartment was open. She hadn't even heard their earlier conversations, too entranced by the little guy. She couldn't remember who had opened the door, but from the grumbling, it sounded like the one she hated most. Everything was happening much faster, but it felt as if time had slowed. She distantly registered the thump of someone jumping down the ladder, then the doors closing, and someone immediately hitting them.

"Hey, hey, hey. Okay. Okay. Okay, I get it. I'm a little particular about my personal space too." That voice, God she knew that voice. Her blood boiled as she listened further. "So let's just do this job. We get in, we get out, and you don't have to see our faces anymore."

How ironic, she almost rolled her eyes.

"Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian." The voice was much closer than she wanted it to be.

"Well, apparently they're the greatest warriors in the galaxy." There was a pause, Sedona gritted her teeth around the cloth. "So they say"

"Then why are they all dead"

And there was laughter. She heard a sharp giggle, the kind that makes your lip curl. And she felt herself shaking— she wanted to say something so fucking bad. She didn't know how Din could just take all of this.

"Well, you flew with him, Xi'an— Is he as good as they say?"

"Ask him about the job on Alzoc 111." Their voices grated her ears. Subconsciously she really did want to know what happened on Alzoc 111"

"I did what I had to." But this voice, with his calculated roughness, broke her heart. She didn't know how much more she could take before words started leaving her mouth. She heard a female voice, and her hands curled into fists behind her. She could hear what they were saying, but it wasn't fully registering anymore. Her ears rung with rage, the feeling of the child still leaning against her back was the only thing keeping her from ripping off the gag and screaming.  

Her eyes narrowed at the continued jeering and insults. She tried to blink away the tears of anger that burned her eyes. Pressing all of her weight into her arms, her muscles tense. Ready for what was coming next.

The ringing in her ears didn't stop, even as a fistfight took place outside her door.

Only when she was suddenly faced by the people she did not want to see, did everything come crashing back to the surface.

The trio looked at her in shock, Din out of her view. She sees Mayfield's mouth moving as he walks closer to her, but she only picked up the last of his sentence.

"— you get lonely up here buddy? Huh." He stepped up to the compartment, Xi'an sauntered after him. Sedona tried not to focus on the way the other woman's gaze twisted into disgust. She turned her head to meet all 3 of their eyes, Burg looking even more devil-like up close.

"Why do you have your bed warmer tied up like that huh?" Din didn't answer Mayfield, she couldn't even see him, but with the way Burg had his arm locked out of view, he was probably being held back. "Is that how he kept you, huh, Xi'an? Is that how he likes 'em?" The woman in question hissed in response, and she settled herself against the door. Knife still held loosely in her hand.

"Didn't take you for the type." She snarled at Din, her eyes predatory as they shifted away from Sedona. "Maybe that code of yours has made you soft."

And suddenly there was another voice. Though not really a voice, instead it's sounded like an angry cat in the other room. Muffled, and full of rage.

It wasn't till she noticed the others were just staring at her in silence, that she realized it was her. She was snarling like a rabid dog, her mouth has developed a mind of its own. Thankfully all the words were swallowed by the cloth.

"Well let's see what she has to say," Xi'an said with a sickening smile, sharpened yellow teeth on full display. The next actions happened so quickly, Sedona honestly didn't realize what transpired. There was a flash of metal, as Xi'an's hand darted out like a snake. A searing pain appeared on her left cheek, and the cloth holding her words in fell away. She felt herself gasp, her hand instantly flying up to cradle her cheek. And then there was laughing, the trio laughed at her pain, and it only made her angrier.

"I said," She placed her hand, now sticky with blood, behind her back. Bracing herself. "I've got a penchant for smokes and kicking douches in the mouth. Sadly for you, my last cigarette's gone out."

And with that statement, her right foot flew out. Connecting with Burg's jaw, a sickening crack rang through the hull.

Then there was chaos.

The Devaronian stumbled back, his own hand coming up to clutch his jaw with a growl. Mayfield and Xi'an jumped for their weapons. But before anyone else could cross the threshold of the sleeping compartment, there was a blaster shot— and the metal door collapsed shut. Din had shot the control panel to the door, no one could get in, or get out without the use of his fancy wrist control. There was aggressive banging on the door, Sedona feared it might dent. She could hear swearing and shouting from the other side, but she wasn't done. She sat up on her knees, slamming her hands against the metal a few times. If Din wasn't going to say it, she would.

"Fuck you Xi'an! I wanted to be your friend so bad!" She could hear an aggressive snarl over the other commotion. Burg roared, and then there was a particularly loud thump against the door.

"Fuck you, Burg! Your breath fucking reeks!" Her voice had a heavy growl in it, all of the rage she could muster put behind her words.

"And fuck you, Mayfield! Prison is going to make you it's bitch!" Her voice had risen to a scream to counteract the noise. And with a few more slaps against the metal, she sat back down. Her hand coming up to the cut on her cheek. Xi'an's blades were so sharp, they cut deep and thin. A perfect slice, that was going to leave a nasty scar. It was then she realized the other creature in the room.

Grogu let out soft whimpers at the commotion, he was trying to hide behind her purse. Her stomach dropped at the sight, instantly letting out a soft coo of her own, she reached her hand out to him, trying to let him know it would be okay. But another voice broke through the pandemonium.

"Dropping out of hyperspace now." She scooped up Grogu, and he let out a small cry of protest. But she knew what was coming next. The ship lurched foreword suddenly. "Commencing final approach now."

"Cloaking signal now" Grogu let out a scream as they were suddenly airborne. Sedona's head crashed against the ceiling of the compartment with a thump. They slammed back down, the wind getting knocked out of her lungs. Trying to catch her breath she glanced down at the child, who was relatively fine. Just panicking by the way his massive eyes stared up at her. The ship stopped with a heavy crash, and she heard the droid speaking again. But she was far more distracted by the little green hand straining to reach her cheek.

"I'll be okay buddy" she whispered, bringing her hand up to gently grab his. He frowned, babbling urgently at her. She gave him as much of a smile she could muster, hoping he accepted it. "You don't have to heal me, I'm all right." Truthfully, she wasn't really all right. Her cheek was burning, and from what she could feel, the cut ran from just under her jaw bone, all the way up to her cheekbone. A neat slice, that was still steadily leaking blood. She set Grogu to the side and reached for her purse, fishing out the travel pack of tissues, and holding one to the cut. It wasn't stitches or magical healing space goo, but she hoped it would at least stop her from bleeding all over Din's bed. A loud smack interrupted their tentative peace. Mayfield's voice followed.

"Don't think we forgot about you girl, we'll be back for you!" There was laughing, and for the first time since the door had opened, the wrongness flooded back to her stomach. She focused on taking deep even breaths, for the sake of the child who whimpered beside her. She heard a fast beeping, and then someone jumping from the ship. They were leaving, and her heart only seemed to race faster. She waited till she heard the particularly loud thump of Burg.

"Din," she cleared her throat, voice coming out raw. "Don't let them capture you." She wasn't sure if she was just talking to an empty hull, or if the Mandalorian could even hear her raspy voice. 

She just hoped desperately if he had, he would listen.

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

Taglist- 

I’ve never done this before! But please message me if you’d like to be tagged, and I’ll try to figure it out along the way! 

@thekingofthegoats @cosmicbreathe @daddydjarinxx @gallowsjoker 

[spidersfanfics]

Memories

JonMartin | Post-Canon | Original AU | Fluff

This is to be the first of (probably) many fanfics set in the same AU where I pretend that everything is okay. The details of this AU will be slowly revealed throughout the fanfics. However the fics themselves will be readable in whatever order/capacity you want. In fact, I’m not even writing them in chronological order. They will be “dated” according to in-universe time for ease of understanding. Enjoy!

March 16, 2019

Martin knocked tentatively on Jon's study before letting himself in, "Hey, are you busy?"

"Hmm? No I'm just finishing up some paperwork," Jon said, stifling a yawn, "Did you need something?"

"Yeah, I had a bit of a theory I wanted to test..." Martin said slowly.

Jon turned to face him and raised an eyebrow, "Go on?"

"Right," said Martin, clearing his throat awkwardly, "So you know how you're basically just a statement machine forever now?"

"I mean I don't love the imagery," Jon said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

Martin smiled at him sweetly, "Oh don't worry, I'll still love you, even if you are a monster."

Jon laughed and reached forward to pull Martin into his lap. The office chair squeaked slightly in protest but they ignored it. "Martin, I'm touched," Jon said sarcastically, resting his chin on Martin's head.

"Anyway, not the point," Martin said, leaning into Jon, "I was thinking, well, I want you to tell me a story."

Jon leaned over to look at Martin with a puzzled expression, "I thought you didn't like listening to me read statements"

"It's easier when they're about you," Martin said with a shrug, "Nice even."

Jon frowned as he wrapped his arms around Martin and leaned back in the chair again, "You know that's not how it works. I can't just know about myself. An eye can't look inside itself and all that."

"Learn," Martin said, his tone gentle but stern. "Maybe it will be a nicer way for you to let off steam. Rather than continue to look for leftovers or create more nightmares."

He paused for a moment to think of an appropriate allegory, "Think of it as a vegan diet."

Jon sighed in amused resignation, "Okay, fine. I have some time anyway. What do you want to hear?"

Martin blinked, caught off guard, "Oh, I get to decide?"

"Well it was your idea."

"Alright then," Martin said, a little flustered. He had evidently not expecting this to be an interactive activity. "Hmm... Oh I know. Tell me when you decided that you loved me"

"Really Martin," Jon laughed, "That's your choice?"

"Yeah," Martin said, blushing as his voice cracked slightly. "I mean, you know I liked you since basically the beginning but we did get off to a bit of a, uh, rocky start"

"That's an understatement," Jon mumbled.

"So what changed?" Martin asked.

Jon gave him a cheeky grin, "What, you mean besides literally the entire world? I'm surprised you have to ask."

"Oh that's not what I mean and you know it," Martin said with an exaggerated pout. "If that was the only reason then you'd just as likely be with, oh, I don't know... Tim?"

Jon stared at Martin for a beat. "Tim?"

"... Georgie?"

"Martin you were the only one who didn't completely hate me by the time the apocalypse happened," Jon said, squeezing Martin's arm gently. "And that includes myself. Is it any wonder I chose you?"

Martin frowned, "So what you're saying is you had no other options?"

"Well no," Jon admitted, "There's more to it than that. I just don't see how talking about my feelings is going to help with the statements thing."

"You said you'd try," Martin said decisively, "So come on, let's hear it. How did I end up here with the sweetest boyfriend in the new world?"

Jon laughed, "Jeez I could eat your words for dessert." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, "Right, let's see."

"Statement of Jonathan Sims. Subject is never being recorded ever again. Regarding how much he loves Martin. Statement begin."

"It must have been when I brought you out of the Lonely." Jon's voice got quiet, dropping into the soothing rhythm of his statement reading voice almost immediately. "I was so scared that I was going to lose you. I thought that I had already lost you."

"You have to know that I would have rescued you sooner if not for the fact that I was treading on eggshells. It seemed that no matter what I did, somebody was upset. And so when you asked to be left alone, I wanted to respect that. But then it got to the point where I could not ignore you any longer."

He clenched his fists unconsciously and Martin put a hand over his.

Jon jolted slightly, as if he had forgotten Martin was there and took a moment before continuing.  "When I found you, I was so happy that you were okay. And then when you saw me, really saw me, I felt so relieved. That made me see how much I lo-"

He broke off and shook his head. "No, that's not right."

"It was before that, when I woke up from my coma. Remember when you mentioned being upset you weren't the one to wake me up? Well I didn't tell you then but I was also disappointed that you weren't there when I woke up. Disappointed, and then worried."

Jon shifted in his chair, his brow furrowed in concentration, "That reminded me that I lo-" He cut himself off again, "No, still earlier than that."

"Before the Unknowing, when we went off on that mission and you agreed to stay behind for your part of the plan. I remember feeling so relieved that you wouldn't be in the worst of it."

"We thought it was going to be dangerous, it *was* dangerous. And if anything had happened to you  I would never have forgiven myself. And that's when I knew I lo-"

Yet again, he stopped, "No, still further back. When all of this first started, and we were hiding out in the archives. The worms were such a big threat, but it seems silly now, doesn't it? Anyway, when you told me about yourself, and we were talking about working at the institute."

Jon smiled slightly, thinking of how simple things once were. "I don't think I knew it yet but that's when I started to lo-"

He took a shaky breath and paused for longer than he had before.

Martin touched his arm gently and although Jon didn't jump this time, he did move to make eye contact with Martin.

"No," he said softly, "It was when I first met you. I was so scared of being rejected I couldn't let you in at all. That's when I realized I loved you."

[milkshakekitty]

Little By Little

Little by little, Sour Bill found himself warming up to the new president he found under his care. And little by little, with the help of her confectionery vice president, Vanellope learned how life in her new (old?) home worked

Two drabbles ft poor Sour Bill trying to teach Van basic life skills since y'know, she was pretty much a hobo for her whole life

The idea for this is @pixlexic-president 's, I just loved it so much I had to write it out lol

"I am beat," Vanellope yawned. She'd won a race, killed a cybug king and regained the throne she never even knew she had all in one day, and now the new president was more than ready for a good long rest.

"I'll take you to your bedroom, Madam President," Sour Bill said, eager to have at least a few quiet hours away from the hyperactive child he suddenly found in his care.

"My...bedroom?"

He nodded silently.

"There's a whole room just for the bed?" Vanellope asked incredulously.

"Mmhm."

"Weird."

They walked for what felt like forever through the endless corridors of the castle- her castle, she had to keep reminding herself, until they reached a huge graham cracker door.

"Here it is," he said simply, opening the foreboding door and gesturing into the large dark room behind it.

"Wow," she said, barely above a whisper.

The bedroom was huge, almost too big for the new princessident to take in.

"This is all mine?"

"Mmmhm."

"And this is my bed?" she marveled at the huge canopy bed, covered in plush pillows and fluffy blankets.

The sour ball hummed again.

"Wow."

Vanellope hopped up onto the enormous bed.

And hopped again.

And again.

And again.

"I thought you were tired," Sour Bill said irritably.

"I am," she agreed, plopping down on the mattress, "But this bed is way bouncier than my old one back-"

"...home," the child said, much quieter as her grin slowly faded.

Despite having had to live in a volcano of all places, Vanellope had grown fond of the little ramshackle home she'd built herself so many years ago.

And after such a crazy adventure, such a huge change in her life, she began to miss the simple, familiar comfort of curling up in her little sponge cake bed, wrapping herself up like the little homeless lady she was in her candy wrapper blankets. She knew it was kind of silly, to miss her old life when her new home was so amazing.

But she couldn't shake it.

Sour Bill, despite how apathetic he appeared, could sense the child's mixed feelings.

So he left.

And in spite of the fact that the sour ball definitely wasn't the most comforting presence in the world, even his company was better than being alone in the overwhelmingly huge room.

Vanellope looked around as if she were lost. She guessed she kind of was, in a weird way.

The castle was so big, so silent. She felt like she was the only one in this huge place.

Diet Cola Mountain was never quiet. There was always the constant bubbling of the hot springs, the occasional booming sound of mentos falling into the lava.

Here it was just...quiet.

Unbearably quiet.

But just as Vanellope felt like she couldn't take the suffocating silence for another second, Sour Bill returned, a glass in his hand.

"Milk?" the kid asked.

He nodded, wordlessly offering it to her.

"Uh, ok," she took a sip. It was warm.

Strange, she thought, but kinda nice.

A few sips later she set the empty glass on the dainty little bedside table.

She had to admit, that'd helped ease her anxieties. More tired than ever, Vanellope rubbed her eyes, but found herself still a little nervous at the thought of sleeping completely alone in this too big room.

"Sour Bill?"

"Mmmhm?"

"Will you...stay with me?" she asked softly.

He looked at her for a moment.

"It's just that I- well...I know it's silly but..."

"...if I go to sleep I might- I just," she fumbled with the words.

"I don't...wanna wake up back in the mountain."

Even though she kind of missed it, Diet Cola Mountain was a sort of bittersweet symbol of her old life, her life as a glitch.

Of course the candy knew that it wasn't possible for her to revert back to that life. But Vanellope was a child, and as he well knew, sometimes children weren't all that rational.

Especially when they'd lived in an active volcano for a decade and a half.

"Mmmhm," he hummed simply.

"Really?" she asked. She honestly didn't think he'd agree.

He nodded and, maybe her tired eyes were playing tricks on her, but Vanellope could swear she saw the smallest semblance of a smile on his face.

She smiled, and he pulled back the plush covers for her to get under.

"Wow," she marveled quietly, her eyes starting to droop, "It's so soft."

"Mmmhm," he agreed, amused.

"I could get used to this," she sighed contentedly, snuggling into the comforter.

Just as her eyes drifted closed, Sour Bill turned the bedside lamp off, only to be stopped by a small protest from his half-asleep charge.

Vanellope sat up, looking slightly worried as she peered around the darkened room.

"Can you...turn the light back on?" she asked, her voice small.

He looked at her a bit oddly before he realized that, having lived in a bright bubbling volcano, Vanellope had probably never slept in the dark before.

Sour Bill felt the tiniest twinge of guilt. It was probably unnerving for the child to suddenly be expected to sleep in a pitch dark room.

The candy hummed an affirmative, switching the lamp back on.

As the soft amber glow lit the room once again, the little president relaxed, laying back down in her nest of blankets.

"Thank you," she said gratefully, letting her eyes close once again, the exhausted new racer falling asleep almost immediately.

He stayed by her side for a few minutes more, until he was sure she was soundly sleeping and wouldn't wake up and worry at finding him gone before taking his leave.

Sour Bill had never known a child who could be so annoying, so rash, so impulsive and infuriating and an overall pain in his rear. And he had certainly never had to show someone what a bedroom was before.

But he was starting to think Vanellope was growing on him.

Just the tiniest bit.

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

Hey Billy Boy!" Vanellope chirped.

"I do wish you'd quit calling me that," Sour Bill complained, but it fell on deaf ears.

"I uh, got all turned around," she spun in a circle, lost, "Where's King Crappy's garden?"

The sour ball looked at her incredulously.

King Candy- er, Turbo, used to retreat to his garden for a peaceful moment away from the energetic game and the child racers that inhabited it.

But the new president really didn't seem like the peaceful type. In fact, it didn't even seem like Vanellope and peaceful belonged in the same sentence, unless you were saying that Vanellope was a destroyer of all that was peaceful.

So he couldn't help but show his surprise at her question.

"Why?"

"Jeez cough drop, do I ask you for the details when you gotta do your business?!"

His eyes widened.

"President Vanellope, we have plenty of bathrooms."

"What? What's a...bathroom?" she looked at him as if he'd grown a second head.

Oh mod. Of course she didn't know what a bathroom was, she'd lived in a volcano for fifteen years.

He sighed.

"I'll show you."

"Uh, ok," she shrugged, "But I don't really get why you'd need some bathroom when you've got a perfectly good garden out there."

He tried not to think too much about that.

They walked for a bit, Vanellope looking around in awe as the candy led her down the endless hallways he knew by heart.

"This has been a nice walk and all," the kid piped up after a few minutes, the longest she'd been quiet since arriving at the castle.

"But I kinda haveta- ahh!" she yelped, tripping on Sour Bill, who'd abruptly stopped in a small doorway.

"We're here," he said simply.

"Oh," she wandered inside, looking as if she'd never in her life seen such a strange room.

She hadn't, Sour Bill reminded himself.

She stared at the bathtub, the toilet, the sink, and had nearly jumped out of her skin when upon curiously turning the handles, water came out.

Vanellope was gazing curiously at her bewildered reflection in the mirror when she spoke again.

"Sooo, is this...chair where you-"

"Mmmhm," he finished her question before she'd even finished it.

"Mmkay," she said skeptically.

"And then you push this," he flushed it, making her jump.

"Woah."

"Oh ok!" she chirped.

"Now out!" she laughed, shoving him out of the room.

The sour ball stood beside the door for a few minutes, tapping his jelly bean foot impatiently.

When he heard the toilet flush he expected her to return to what had become her favorite hobby- incessantly pestering him.

But then he heard another flush.

And another.

And another.

Only Vanellope could be entertained by flushing a toilet. He rolled his eyes.

After a few more minutes of this, he had his hand on the doorknob, about to ask if she was planning on missing the roster race to play with the flusher when-

"Hiya!" the door abruptly opened, the young president apparently having finally gotten bored with all the wonders of the bathroom.

Sour Bill startled, falling and rolling on the smooth floor.

"Oh, sorry," she apologized sheepishly, helping him stand back up.

"Hey Billy Boy-" Vanellope said as they continued on their way, earning an eyeroll.

"You never answered my question. Where's the garden at?"

He paused, "But President Vanellope-"

"Relax, Thour Bill," she laughed, imitating the "king's" lisp, "I just wanna find a buttload of gummy worms to put in Taffyta's kart."

"Oh," he sighed.

"I'll show you."

She giggled excitedly, "I can't wait to see the look on her face!"

Sour Bill knew he should probably try to talk her out of this. It would be the responsible thing to do, as Vanellope's vice president.

But he couldn't deny that Taffyta kind of deserved gummy worms in her kart. Plus he kind of wanted to see the look on her face too.

[thesilvervixens]

modern blue lions hcs!!! 

hey guys, its been a while! we have been busy for the past couple of months due to college and other things, and while i cannot promise we will be active again, we will try out best. 

i decided to continue the prompt our other owner was doing, except with the blue lions!

dimitri 

because of how much he has been through, dimitri seems like the type of guy who posts positivity on his platforms

he also spread awareness and educates others when needed

shares his past trauma to others and opens up to his followers so they won’t feel alone

ok but hear me out, when dimitri is texting the blue lions, he would use random emojis that don’t make sense because he doesn’t know when to use them

he takes -blurry- photos of his friends and posts them on his account as well, trying to be nice

dedue

his social media platforms would be based around cooking

he would share recipes with his followers

due to popular demand, everyone asked him to make a youtube channel filled with tutorials (he’s basically going to become famous)

dedue seems like the type of guy who would answer his DMs and give out advice, he is a lot nicer than gordon ramsay too lmao

bonus: he has his own garden and uses his own vegetables he grew

felix 

felix would not be active on social media unlike the rest (sylvain and annette bugged him to make one)

if he was active he would post about swords and swords only

he may have a sword collection as well (along with a knife one)

he would make comments under sylvain’s posts being a meanie

but secretly he enjoys seeing what his friends posts because he wants to see them happy

he has annette’s notifications on (change my mind)

sylvain

he seems like the guy to go out on adventures and post everything and anything

every second it seems like he has to update his story (it takes like 2 mins to go through it all)

he follows a bunch of girls too and compliments them in their comments

when felix makes a comment underneath his posts, he just spams the laughing emoji in the replies

i bet dorothea had him blocked for a while

he is definitely the party guy as well. as mentioned, he’s posting everything (and regretting it the next day because he was most likely being loud and annoying in the videos)

made a groupchat with dimitri, felix, and ingrid called “the OG bitches”

bonus: he makes tik toks (he kinda sucks tho)

ingrid

similar to dedue’s except she is posting photos of the food she’s eating

a mukbanger on youtube! but a healthy one (she has a pretty good following as well)

she follows many food accounts, i bet she has dedue’s notifications on

tries out every restaurant nearby and reviews them on yelp

though her account is food based, she makes sure she shares tips on having a healthy eating lifestyle as well. she shares diets to try out and has a highlight of her daily workout routine

she keeps sylvain in check and messages him when he should probably delete something

annette 

has a groupchat with bernadette and lysithea, they send sanrio memes to each other and reaction pictures

annette collects figures, vinyls, flowers, and also posts her daily hauls

she’s also very big into cute cottage core outfits and participates in outfit of the day

she makes tik toks (fashion tips)

runs a fashion account with mercedes (and a gardening account with dedue but they are inactive)

bonus: she is a book worm and gives out book recommendations

ashe 

he barely goes on instagram and twitter but i can see ashe being famous on twitch

he begs everyone to play among us with him because his subs are asking for it

has a bad sleep schedule because he is up all night grinding to the next level of the game he is obsessed (i swear on my life he plays league of legends,,, he plays support)

tried to teach dimitri how to play games but dimitri kept dying and he gave up

annette sometimes joins him in his streams

made a discord server for everyone in the monastery

mercedes 

she made the blue lions group chat on instagram and keeps in under control. she refuses to give anyone else admin

i bet mercedes has such a beautiful voice (she makes covers on youtube)

doesn’t understand the memes everyone sends but still likes the messages anyways

more active on the fashion account that she runs with annette than her man account

doesn’t know how to work discord and always ends up mute and disconnecting when the blue lions are calling.

[youralternantpersonality]

Eternal Love

Paul x Reader: Eternal Love.

Part 1: Eternal Love

Part 2: Everlasting Love

Part 3: Endless Love

Part 4: Enduring Love

***

Darkness. All I see is darkness…I’m calm yet scared. I don’t understand what’s going on. I am in the forest in La Push, walking aimlessly. Not heading anywhere. I want to go home but I also like it here. I feel…at peace. I look over and I see a never-ending path of trees. What makes it eerie is that there’s no animals, no background noise, even when I get close enough to the dirt, no worms, ants, spiders, anything. I feel like I’ve been stuck here for almost an hour or so. And after some time, I realize something…where’s my dog?

“Snout! Snout! Where are you?” I yell and start looking around. I hear a bark in the distance and run towards it.

“Snout! Baby, come here!” I hear more barking and I run towards that direction. Something seems familiar about this. I just can’t figure out what it was.

Paul’s POV

Five days. That’s how long it’s been since the good doctor Cullen has told me that the love of my life, the only reason I even exist, the one who would calm me yet irritate me out of love, The One; gone. At least, not completely. She’s in a vegetable state—can’t move willingly, can’t hear, smell, taste anything. Hooked up to a machine that is keeping her on this earth. I haven’t moved from this spot by her bed unless I have to shower and eat (demands by Emily).

As I sit here, looking at my beautiful Y/n, bruises along her left side of her body, a cast that covers her arm, hip, and legs, bandages wrapped around her head, I can’t help but cry nonexistent tears. I have cried all of what I had left over the past few days. I can remember everything that happened so clearly. Regret consumed me, so much so, that Dr. Cullen was gracious enough to fix the damages in the bathroom attached to her room when I smashed my fist into the mirror, and he got her, her suite in the hospital.

I fucked up. Everyone tried to make me feel better, but deep down, we all know what I did was what put her in this situation. Which is why I begged, no pleaded, even bargained with the Good Doctor to change her. He wanted to help, but because of the treaty….

“…I cannot Paul. The treaty states…”

“Fuck the treaty! She’s the love of my life! I can’t lose her! I may have fucked up and caused this, but I can’t let her go! Please!” I pleaded outside of his home. His wife, Esme, came next to me and hugged me as I fell to the ground. I didn’t care if she was eerie rock solid or cold as ice, I just needed my Y/n/n back.

As I am looking at her currently, caressing her little finger that is hanging outside her cast, I think back to how we met.

At the Beach: September 2nd, 2018;

There was a birthday party at the beach and, like what anyone would expect from us, the guys and I crashed it. It seemed boring until we, I, showed up. The host was too tipsy to give a crap and was just happy to see more people. I was flirting, per usual, with some lovely girls when the host calls out a name. And what made me respond was the voice and fragrance that came with it.

“What hoe!” a laugh followed afterward. The wind blew a sweet fragrance, pomegranate mango with an orange-like citrus smell to it. I turned my head at the right time to see Y/n. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she walked towards who I found out later to be Angela—one of Bella’s old friends. She went up to hug her and Y/n looked around. That’s where our eyes came in contact. Everything else around me disappeared and I didn’t care for anyone or anything around me. I slowly made my way up to her and she just smiles as I do so.

“Hello, beautiful. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here. I’m Paul, what’s your name?” I smile, not one of my flirty smiles, a genuine smile. It’s weird, I never wanted to imprint EVER in my life, but over time, it didn’t seem too bad. And now, I’m not complaining.

“Hmm, you seem dangerous.” A cheeky smile is placed on her face, she looks me up and down and turns her body towards me.

“I’m Y/n, but people call me Y/n/n.” I smile and shake her hand. Both of our eyes widen at the electricity flow, the magnetic force pulling us to one another, and this cloud 9 effect that is taking over. I look down at her and smile.

“Hmm, you seem like you’re about to ruin my life,” I said jokingly. She smiles and laughs.

“I guess we’re a match huh?”

“I guess we are. So, tell me about yourself.” And from then on, we were together.

But it seems like life wanted to make a full circle.

Current Day: August 30th, 2020

“Paul, the council is still debating. I know this is hard, but please, at least for Emily, go home and get some rest.” Sam said. Normally, I’d take alphas orders, but this time, I can’t. I shake my head and head towards the bathroom. I brush past him and Jake and just stand there behind the door. I look at myself in the mirror and can see emotional and physical damage.

I’ve lost weight, I have deep dark circles around my eyes, my eyes itself is bloodshot red. My skin is sickly pale, not it’s normal “golden glow honey brown sugar” skin that my little raven called it. I laugh at that memory. She was whimsical, mysterious, and protective like a raven. Her secret personality was as big as one too. She called you in naturally by her beauty—inner and outer beauty.

At Paul’s house: November 2018

We were laying on the couch relaxing before I had to go on patrol. She was reading a book with her legs planted in my lap, I was deep engrossed to the video game I was playing when suddenly, I feel a pair of eyes on me.

“Make a video to remember this moment then replay it when you miss me.” I smile and look over at her. All I could see is her big y/e/c eyes staring back at me. One eyebrow raised and her book was covering the bottom half of her face.

“You know,” she says sitting up, putting down the book, “it’s not fair how clear and bright your skin is. You have this…this golden glow…with, like, honey brown sugar swirled in it. You suck.” She says pouting. I pause the game, lean over to her, and place most of my weight on her while kissing her neck. She squeals underneath me and starts laughing. I smile and kiss her softly while poking my nose into her cheek.

“I love every bit of you, my love. You may see flaws, but with my heightened eyesight, I can see little freckles kissed all along your face. Matter of fact, let me show you where.” Then I proceeded to kiss all over her face. She laughs uncontrollably.

“But you don’t have the curse of hyperpigmentation! You see freckles, I see never-ending scars.” I hate it when she gets like this. It hurts me, to see the love of my life feel as if she has to be something different to even be next to me.

“Baby, stop,” I said calmly, I learned quickly that I would have to control my tone around her. She can read me like a book and because her emotions can get the best of her, yelling could end in two ways. One, she’ll fight back—she’s all bark and bites—so no one messes with her for a while when she’s at that point. Or two, she starts tearing up and holds back tears. Not for manipulation reasons that most girls do, but for the fact that she intakes certain emotions and she has no control over hers.

“I know you may feel that way, and you have to remember, I did too. You know, I was human like you before my wolfy sense’s kicked in.” I smile as she smiles back. “Just know my love, I don’t see anything wrong with you. I could never.” I place my forehead on hers. “I love you too much to worry about things like that.” I kiss her. She looks at me and says,

“So, if you didn’t love me, you’d notice it?” I look at her with a blank face, roll my eyes, and just roll off the couch. I can feel her watching me.

“Well…”

“You know, you’re a little shit, right?” I say with my hands covering my face. She lays on top of me and says,

“But you love me, remember.”

“Oh my god…” I just squeeze her to me and laugh along with her.

Current Day: August 30th, 2020

I step back out into the room where Dr. Cullen and Sam are waiting for me. I stop and look at them.

“The council decided…” Sam said, I looked up with hopeful eyes…

“They will agree to it, if…” Carlisle started.

“If what?” I say, taking a step forward.

“If she leaves until she can handle being around humans. And…” Sam began,

“She can’t go back to La Push,” Carlisle said. I replayed what they said…. she can change but can’t come back until she’s able to be around humans, but she can’t come back to La Push. I nod my head.

“How long does it usually take for your kind to get better at being around humans?” I ask quietly. Carlisle looked at Sam with guilt and answered.

“It depends on the person's restraint. Within their first year, their blood still runs in their body, so blood lust, especially from humans, is out of control. After a year, it gets better. Although, with our diet, it’s harder but not impossible.”

“But how long in total?” I asked anxiously. He looked at me with genuine sad eyes.

“Up to three years or so.” He said with sorrow in my eyes. For once in the few days I’ve been here, a new emotion that I haven’t touched came out. Rage.

“Three years! I can’t go that long without her! I’m coming with you.” I said to Carlisle. Sam looked at him for an answer. This is the first time I’ve seen him rely on his answers on another person’s answer.

“You can, but there’s no guarantee of anything. Her body may or may not accept the venom. She may or may not remember you. She may have anger towards you about what happened if she remembers what happens. Anything could happen Paul. Is it worth the risk?” without hesitation, I answered.

“Yes.” Sam nodded his head and gave me the okay. Even if he wouldn’t have, I still would have followed them. He knows just as much as anyone that separating imprints from one another is a death sentence.

“We leave tonight. Edward and I will take her to Alaska with some friends of ours. I will administrate the change there. Because you are in no condition to shift, we plan on flying. Medical services will meet us there with her. We have paperwork stating that they are her closes family since she doesn’t have one.” I nodded my head and took a deep breath.

“Thank you. I know this is a reach, but can I ask for one favor.”

“Of course.”

“Can you freeze her eggs.” They looked at me confused and with shock. So, I explained,

“We’ve always talked about having children. She’s always wanted children of her own and to adopt some. I know she wouldn’t care too much about it, but I also know that would make her happy.” I begged the doctor. He sighed and nodded.

“it shouldn’t be a problem, since she’s already under my friends name as family, Eleazar would be okay with it.” I nod my head and look back at my angel.

“Emily, Kim, and Clair will be up here in a few. Go home and rest for tonight Paul. I promise, she’ll be okay. If she’s going to have the procedure, you need to be ready for when it’s over and to head out.” I didn’t argue this time. I walked over to her and kiss her head.

“Don’t leave me, my love. I’ll be here waiting for you. Always.”

My Love (for the series)

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