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gloomwitchwrites · 3 hours

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Hello, hope you're a having a good day

Could you write something about 141 x reader where the sparring session turns a little too not your usual sparring (if you know what I mean). The reader and them being all sweaty and shit and like the sexual tension that's been there for a while. This idea has been plaguing my mind since forever. Thank youuuu

Haha! Yes! Omg, I love it. Okay, for this, I didn't go full smut. When someone mentions sexual tension, I tend to hyperfocus on that and want to bathe in it. Give me naughty thoughts and flirting-maybe even some actual physical contact that borders on dangerous territory. Give me the yearning! I want to giggle and kick my feet and think about what might happen later.

So, I indulged in that regard! I had lots of fun with this. Thank you so much for sending it in!!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x TF141!Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, knife play, grinding, rough kissing, caught in the act, training, naughty thoughts, mutual yearning

Word Count: 2.4k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Come on. Come at me.”

Soap rolls his shoulders and then brings his fists up in a fighting stance. He makes a “go on” gestured with his hands.

Every muscle in your body is sore. Tired doesn’t even begin to describe how you’re feeling. But you want to best Soap. He’s been on your ass for weeks now—insisting that the two of you should spar together. It’s not the sparring that makes you warm and tingly but the way he suggests it.

Always leaning in. Standing far too close. Bumping your shoulder with his.

Soap waits, but you’re not sure how to proceed. So far, you’ve been completely unsuccessful. As if knowing all your moves, Soap has dodged each blow and kick, effortlessly taking you down to the mat every time you thinking you’ve ensnared him.

Stealth is more your thing. Creeping around in the shadows. Taking out opponents from afar. A sniper scope is your friend. Hand-to-hand isn’t.

You lunge for him and Soap steps back. Fist missing him, you sidestep and go for a jab in the stomach. Soap slaps your hand away, and you want to yell in frustration.

“Sloppy today,” chides Soap, grinning like this amuses him.

It probably does. He’s one for a good laugh.

This time you feign, and Soap takes it, moving in. You’re ready for him, turning out of his swing to duck beneath and then aim for the face. Soap rises to block, and opens a clear line to his groin.

Fucking beautiful.

Lifting your foot, you don’t tap him hard, just enough for his cheeks to go pink. Soap grunts, and you chuckle.

“Shouldn’t have left yourself—”

With an oof, your back smacks against the tumble mat beneath you. Soaps snags your wrists and pins them above your head. You go to kick out at him, but Soap’s knees are between your legs. He shoves them wider.

You’re completely trapped beneath him.

And in a completely inappropriate position.

From where you’re pinned, you notice the small beads of sweat on his brow and how a few pieces of hair stick to his skin. Though his chest is covered by a shirt, it’s snug, with every muscle on display. Those powerful thighs of his press against yours in such a way that you’re imagining nothing between your bodies.

Would he feel this powerful over you if the two of you were elsewhere? Perhaps, somewhere more private. Somewhere without a tumble mat. Somewhere with a bed.

“Can’t harm the goods, love,” says Soap, his voice husky. You’re not sure if it’s from the close contact or from the tap you gave his crotch.

“Then don’t leave them vulnerable,” you reply, almost not recognizing the sound of your own voice. It too is husky as if dipped in desire.

The middle of Soap’s brow scrunches slightly. His gaze travels downward to linger on your lips and then further still until you sense him admiring more than he is observing.

“Soap—”

His gaze snaps upward. “Johnny,” he corrects. “Think we’re on closer terms.”

“Are we?” you ask, as his hips start to relax.

The press of him against you is apparent, and the hardness there is poking at you. Insistent. And you don’t want to ignore it.

Instead, you press upward, grinding against him.

Soap—no—Johnny, makes a sound in his throat.

One moment you’re under him and then you’re in his lap, the two of you sitting up, staring into each other’s eyes. Your heart hammers in your chest, and your hands fists the front of his shirt.

“You—”

“Are we interrupting something?”

You and Johnny turn just as Ghost and Gaz enter the gym. Gaz has a towel draped over his shoulder. The water bottle he holds it half-way towards his mouth before he freezes, gaze locked on you and Johnny.

Ghost cocks his head, arms crossed over his chest.

You’re speechless. Lost. Your mind hasn’t caught up.

But Johnny’s has.

With a twist, Johnny rolls and then lightly tosses you off him as if the two of you were simply practicing and not staring into each other’s eyes.

“You want a go, Lt?” asks Johnny.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“You up for another round?” asks Kyle.

The man is grinning like he could do this all day. You’re sore everywhere—ready to collapse from exhaustion. Hand-to-hand combat is not your thing which is why you’re here in the training room with Kyle.

Yes, you need practice, but you’ve also had your eye on him, admiring him when you think no one is looking. It’s an excuse for some alone time.

“I’d rather eat glass,” you mutter, snatching up your water bottle and drinking the last of it.

“Hate me that much?” he teases.

“So much so that I wanted to spend the afternoon beating your ass.”

Kyle bursts out laughing. He snatches the water bottle out of your hand and aims it at you, squeezing. There’s nothing in it. A few measly drops hit your face and then you lunge for him. Kyle jumps back and extends his arms outward.

“One more round.” He winks. “Come on, love.”

He’s being cheeky, and your blood is pumping.

Kyle tosses your water bottle to the side as you stride forward. His arms go up, and then the two of you are nothing but flying fists and feet. He’s faster, blocking every blow you send his way.

Sweat accumulates on your brow and on the back of your neck, dripping down your spine. You lick your lips, taste the salt from the sweat.

You duck. Swing. Kyle snatches your wrist and twists, pinning your arm behind you. With a sharp jab of your elbow, you nail Kyle in the stomach, freeing yourself.

As you spin to lash out, Kyle is right there, in your space, blocking all movement. You try to step back, to allow space in your next strike, but Kyle rushes in. The two of you are twisted up. Falling. Slamming into the mat on the floor.

You shove and Kyle resists, his strength outmatching yours. With cheek pressed into the mat, you have nowhere to go. You’re completely on your stomach, and all of Kyle’s weight is on you. He breathes heavily, chest heaving. You feel his breath against your skin, and the contact only sends your skin into a shiver.

Your mind drifts, lingering in places it shouldn’t. Worse—Kyle is aroused. His hardness pokes at your ass. But whether he notices or not is unclear.

“You’re improving,” he says.

“I have a good teacher.”

Kyle makes a noise that sounds like agreement. Every muscle is tense, and even Kyle’s hold on you seems laced with something harsh. But then it eases. Softens. His grip loosens enough that you roll onto your side, glancing up at him.

He is so goddamn close. Just a gentle tilt of the head and your lips would meet his. It wouldn’t be that hard. He’s right there.

Kyle blinks, and then his gaze trails downward, lingering on your lips.

“We,” he begins. “We shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

His thumb traces along the side of your throat, and your eyelids flutter with contentment. A little moan escapes you, and you hear Kyle’s sharp inhale.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck it.”

His thumb becomes his whole hand. Holding you in place, Kyle goes all in, claiming your lips with his. It is dominating, and you happily give in to him.

John Price

Your back hits the tumble mat with a sharp slap. The exposed portions of your shoulders and back sting from the contact.

"Again."

Groaning, you push up to a seated position. "We've been at this for hours."

"And you need practice," counters Price.

He's hatless. And shirtless. Only in cargo pants and boots, Captain Price's bare skin glistens with sweat. You won't pretend that the sight of him like this doesn't intrigue you. For months now you've been observing Captain Price in more than just a professional manner. It's hard not to, and the sweat-drenched man before you isn't helping things.

Captain Price runs his fingers through his hair, taking a step back. The casualness to the movement causes your stomach to twist with desire. Your body betrays you, and you have no idea if these feelings are entirely one-sided. Sometimes you think you might gleam a notion of his thoughts, but it always manages to slip through your grasp.

Price offers his hand, and an idea forms.

You extend yours, but don't close the distance. Price is the one that leans forward to do so. It's the perfect opportunity. When your fingers close around his, you tug back, throwing him off balance.

Price tips forward, and you turn to the side as he crashes down to the mat. In one fluid movement, you roll Price onto his back and straddle his stomach.

"Never let your guard down. That's what you always say."

Price's eyes widen slightly before softening. The corner of his mouth twitches into a hint of amusement. It immediately sends heat flaring through you.

"I do," he replies, and it's nearly a coo.

That smirk of his widens into an actual smile, and then it's you on your back and Price straddling. You strike out with an elbow but Price catches your swing, trapping your arms above your head. He bends forward a bit, and it is then that you feel the stiffness against your stomach.

Price makes no move to hide it, and you don’t dare glance downward.

"You need to do better-"

"Captain."

Price immediately recoils, sitting up and releasing your arms. You twist to look behind you, only to find Ghost and Soap standing nearby. Ghost is ever the silent observer, but Soap's head is slightly tilted to the side, the middle of his brow pinched like he's not sure what's happening.

"Meeting starts in five,” says Soap. “Came to find you."

Price coughs and then he's off you, kneeling and offering you a hand again. You don't try to knock him down.

"Just going over some pointers,” replies Price.

"Pointers?" deadpans Ghost and you shoot him a look. He shrugs at you, gaze lingering before moving to his captain.

"Give me ten minutes. Shower. Then I'll be there."

Captain Price gives you a quick glance before walking off with Soap. Ghost crosses his arms over his chest and just stares.

“What?" you snap

"Pointers," he repeats.

"Oh, fuck off, Simon."

He chuckles and turns to follow the two out of the training room.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"Your posture is terrible."

"That's very helpful, Lieutenant,” you deadpan.

"Are you sassing me?"

"No."

Simon shakes his head and sighs. “Can’t throw a knife accurately if you’re hunched like a goblin.”

“Goblin,” you mutter under your breath. “Asshole.”

“What was that?”

You clear your throat. “Seems easy, Lieutenant. You just throw the pointy end at the enemy.”

Simon grunts and then grabs your raised arm. "You won't hit anything standing like that."

You resist his pull but you're outmatch when it comes to strength. With one hand on your arm and one on your waist, Simon shifts you into position.

"Like this," he instructs, bringing your arm back. "Firm grip. Feet pointed forward." Simon releases your arm but his hand on your waist remains. "Throw. At the target."

You let the knife fly. It strikes just right of the bullseye.

"Again,” nods Simon.

"Really?"

Simon slowly drops his hand from your waist, the tips of fingers lingering a second longer than necessary.

Removing a knife from his boot, Simon flips it end over end. "We could hone your skills a different way."

"What way?"

“Grab your knife and find out.”

Stalking toward the bullseyes, you yank out the knife, joining Simon in the sparring ring. He bends at the knee, crouching into a fight stance. You mimic the movement.

Simon lunges first and you sidestep. But he's quick for such a large man. He moves around and behind you so fast he's almost a blur.

Grabbing your wrist, Simon lightly twists and pins you against his front, the knife tip pointed at your throat.

"Again,” he growls.

Simon lightly shoves you away. You spin. Striking out. He slaps your arm down and raises his own, the knife tip pointed at your throat for a second time.

"Again."

Showing your teeth, you charge at him, barreling into him at the middle. Simon staggers but doesn't faulter. He attempts to toss you off him, but you remain firm, grabbing hold.

This unloads him, his weight toppling with you. The two of you go down. Simon rolls you onto your back, his body pressed to yours, knife at your throat again.

"Better,” he says. “Still needs improvement."

You go to shove him off, but Simon doesn't budge. He remains where he is, and every point of contact is like an electrical spark. Even his face is close, balaclava nearly scratching against your skin. There is not part of him you’re not touching.

Awareness settles in.

Simon is all hardness over you.

"Have any tips you can give me?" you reply.

His gaze slowly lowers to your lips. His hips shift slightly, something stiff poking against your inner thigh.

“I have one,” he murmurs.

Bet I can guess.

“How do you want it?” he continues.

"You're the expert," you reply softly, hooking your leg over the back of his.

It's an invitation, one you aren't sure he'll take.

There’s a brief pause, and then Simon hums in agreement. It’s a pleased sound, one that instantly makes you shiver. Without taking the knife from your throat, he closes the distance, lips pressing against yours through the balaclava.

Heat erupts, the knife in your hand forgotten on the floor as you grab at him, fingers digging in.

It's only a tease. You want the real thing.

"What's the tip?" you ask once he breaks the connection.

Simon answers by grinding his hips against yours.

That one. Got it.

“We should—”

A door slams from somewhere down the hall. Simon’s head snaps up. The knife disappears, and then Simon is pushing himself away, kneeling beside you. His head is turned toward the main doors, but no one enters.

“It’s late,” you say. No one should be coming this way.

He turns back to you. “Your knife skills are shit.”

You groan. “I know. Goblin hunch. Got it.”

Simon snorts, and offers his hand. You take it, and he pulls you into a seated position. “Just a few more rounds,” he says, and then with a husky twinge to his tone, “and then I’ll go make sure the locker room is clear.”

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iid-smile · 2 days

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difficult things

sakura, nirei, suo, sugishita, kaji

if you were dating them series

sakura hakura | feeling comfortable around you

it's extremely frustrating trying to get him to open up to you more. he feels the need to look tougher, to protect you more while telling others to back off, but he misses the sole purpose of the relationship; love. sakura avoids you more when you're dating, more than when the two of you were in the talking phase. might be from embarrassment, might be from hesitance. he doesn't say that you're his partner, but something along the lines of "i find them nice...", which makes no sense at all. everyone that sakura knows is nice to him (a few exceptions here and there), so does he really bunch you up with the rest of them?

nirei akihiko | getting over his insecurities

whenever he talks about himself, most times out of ten it's something negative. it doesn't matter how many times you reassure, comfort or encourage him, because nirei doesn't feel like he's good enough for you. it's not that he avoids you per se, but he hides, he puts you in the spotlight, but doesn't join alongside you, so you feel more lonely than anything. he can be early to dates, but he also skips them without telling you or with a poor excuse. it's genuinely off-putting how much he degrades and insults himself, to the point where you don't even know what to say to make him feel better.

suo hayato | saying the truth

suo is a natural pathological liar, as well as lying just to save face. you would never genuinely know if he's covering something behind his eyepatch or not, because he just doesn't want to tell you, injury or not. he'll joke, tease, do everything but tell you that perhaps he's just not comfortable with showing you. and if he did, you'd be totally okay with that. the way he thinks contradicts how he acts, and he picks out all of the things he doesn't like about you and can be so judgmental about it. if you ask, he won't say. one of his values is to keep up his facade, no matter how free or secure he feels around you. nobody knows the real him, except himself. he's loyal, but not honest.

sugishita kyotaro | admitting his mistakes

he loves and admires you to bits, but to be 'sorry' is a way of saying that he has done wrong to you, and he doesn't like that. not because he's narcissistic and petty, but because he doesn't want to believe that he's hurt you in some way. his way of an apology is silently lingering around you or staring at you until you eventually forgive him. at first, it's cute, but when this happens every time, even when it's a major issue, it makes you frustrated. sugishita finds it hard to talk, and communication isn't his strong point. the two of you could go for months in radio silence, and he won't explain anything to you soley because he doesn't know what to say. he doesn't like to be guilty around those he thinks highly of.

kaji ren | ignorance and bluntness

kaji hasn't yet realised that you think and function completely in a different way to him. he's not used to having to soften up, lighten up his tone and be more gentle. in fact, he doesn't realise that somebody loves should be somebody he treats in a special way and not like the rest. kaji should be adjusting to you, just how you adjusted for him. he talks to you as if you're stupid or as if you lack common sense, and he unknowingly belittles you for every mistake you make, more when you hurt or injure yourself in some way. his affection shows through actions, but still it's not anything sweet, not anything you'd expect from a boyfriend. a lot of the time, he manages to look over you and your needs, and needs a reminder from someone else to check up on you.

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factual-fantasy · 21 hours

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27 asks! Thank you!! :}} 🔮

Oooo very cool! I hope you have fun with it!! :DDD And as for how I make a story it kind'a depends-

For Grimace, Sylvester and the rest of the gang.. well that was just my Violet team. I gave them personalities that I thought would suit them and just.. went from there I guess? <:D

For Conkeldurr, Zuora, Emboar and the 4 piglets.. well, it started with just thinking about Conkeldurr and how much I like that Pokémon. I pictured him as a Gentle giant and imagined how fun it would be to draw him with some other tiny Pokémon that he adopted. I went through the Unovan pokédex and picked a Zuora because she was small and fluffy <XD

After making a post about them I wanted to give Conkeldurr a friend. Well I like the Emboar line so hey why not do that? She can be a mama Emboar to switch it up and she can have 4 kids. Why not? Since I didn't draw her in that first post, I made the story they they went their separate ways for a time but now they're back together.

I honestly don't have solid concrete advice I can offer- I just think "hey this would be neat" and slap it on there. Or I think "hey this scenario would be fun to draw" and so I structure the events and story to make the characters run into this scenario in a reasonable way. That's really all I do.. <:D

@beryl-shade

I've seen Markiplier play it :0 Its.. well its something! <:D

(Referencing this post)

<XD I never understood why they made him Spanish, the sudden guitar noise is always a jumps care XDDD

@shiny-is-miney

Humans do not exist in any of my Octonauts AUs, nor have they ever <:/

@catain-skyler1987

I do not <:/ sorry!

@nwo-metalscottic

Daww,, thank you 🥹🥹🥹its been rough these past.. how ever many months- my health is still poor and I still am glued to my bed/the couch 24/7.. but I'm hoping to finally see some improvement soon.. and I hope you feel better too! <:))

Any who, I'm glad to hear your views on Conkeldurr! :D Some people can be kind'a harsh :x As for the Tepigs, I can see them sticking around even after evolving into Pignites. They love their mama and would have no desire to leave her.. 🥺

As for what threatens them.. when they were apart, I kind'a image any meat eating Pokémon that thinks they could take them in a fight would be a threat. Or perhaps territorial Pokémon or protective parents that would see a big Pokémon coming near and just attack on instinct.

Now that the two of them are together, they have a lot less trouble with random Pokémon. They're a much bigger challenge to take on as a team. Plus I can see Zuora walking with them disguised as a second Emboar or Conkeldurr. Creating a group that looks like three macho parents that will fiercely protect their piglets.

As for the Minecraft movie, here's the thing about the Piglins. In the actual game they turn into Zombie Piglins the moment they leave the Nether. Why are they still normal Piglins despite running through a village??

And a Netflix show... uhg.. I'm just not interested. I feel like Minecraft looses all its charm when you convert it into a show or movie. And especially if you mess up Steve as badly as they did. Jack Black.. that's the worst casting I can think of.🤦

This is so cool! It feels like it could be canon to the Pokémon universe! :DD

Also thank you so much!! :)))

I have! :0 I watched 8-bitryan play some of it! :) ALSO THANK YOU!! :DDD

@cicutagreninja

WOW!! :00 THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD I plan to return to it someday!! :)))

@astaherussy (Referencing this post)

I think I put that on almost out of habit <XD when I picture old abandoned houses I imagine notes stuck to the door warning of debts and bills that need to be paid lest the owners get evicted. So I drew that because it felt fitting!

..Only just now did I realize that the old owners were supposed to be a mystery.. if there was any at all. So having that note on the door doesn't really make sense.. 😅

ALSO WAAHG THANK YOU!! :DDD

I've seen the FNAF movie and I've seen multiple Youtubers play all the FNAF games. Though I haven't played through any of them myself. :00

As for what I thought of them.. I have a place in my heart for all the games. From the lore jumbling ruin DLC, to the classic first game, I'm a total sucker and I love them all.💞💞

The movie wasn't as bad as I feared it would be. I adored the inclusion of MatPat and the intended inclusion of Markiplier. There were some aspects I didn't like and a lot of missed opportunities in my opinion. And of course the lore is all outa whack..

None the less, I think the movie is charming. And my love for FNAF has only strengthened upon the movies release :))

@i-only-created-this-to-read

Since Metagross isn't in Black/White (Its in Black/White 2) I wont be looking into that species for a bit.. and I wont be looking at Mega evolutions-

As for a Quantum slime equivalent, I have no intentions to make equivalents for all the slimes- I didn't add trubbish to be an equivalent to pinks. I just noted that Trubbish are a common slime that can eat anything, just like pinks are :0

The slimes and foods I add will be their own thing. Not intending to replicate or replace any of the canon slimes or fruits/veggies/meats from slime rancher. If that makes sense-

@petrichormeraki

I don't really have any proper name ideas for them 😅 I've just been calling them the shiny one, the normal one, the runt and the big one. XDD

Also thank you!! :DDD

Oooo that's really interesting actually! :000 That would have been a much more tame version of my Zuoras story <XDDD

@pigeonsplural

SLAKJDJ THANK YOUUU!! :)))0

*plotting noises......

(Referencing this post)

This ask will be very relevant soon.. 😈 Also thank you! :)))

@roughsketch2010

WAHGG THANK YIU SOMUCH!! :DDD

@kermit-ydafrog

Daww 🥹 Thank you! MY question is why are you so kind?? :DDD

I've heard of it and seen a lot of fanart, but i never got into it myself😅

Thank you for remembering my boundaries and respecting them! <:) And yeah that paints a pretty vivid picture in my head XDDD

@holly-opal

He would have been a better voice for Bowser then Jack Black in my opinion..

@fandomcenteral

WAAHHG THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD And its still a surprise to me that I'm considered a celebrity :00 I hope people aren't intimidated to send me asks because of that.. <:D

@muncho1234 (eye post in question)

Peso, Dashi, Tunip and Ranger Marsh have no eye bags because they have decent sleeping schedules and diets. :0 The rest of the characters either have poor sleeping schedules, deal with a lot of stress, or are very hard workers and burn up all their energy throughout the day.. :(

Oh boy 💀

@minnesotamedic186 (Eye studies post) (Kwazii and Calico Jack hug post) (Ranger Marsh jump scare post)

WAAHGG THANK YOU!!! :DD I ALWATS LOVE IT WHEN PEOPLE NOTICE THE DETAILS I PUT IN!! :))))

@caronaro-flipaclip

<XD While I agree with this, I cant help but get red in the face when people like/reblog my old artwork.😅😅 And there's nothing wrong with that! It just shows how far I've come! :)

#my response #pokemon #fnaf #minecraft movie #fnaf movie #welcome home #slime rancher #ingo and emmet #octonauts

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a-lil-strawberry · 1 day

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I am a protestant, and have been raised in evangelical spaces all my childhood. I now go to a free Lutheran church, which is sort of basically like a cross between Lutheran and evangelical. Well, I have been somewhat removed from small groups of evangelicals for some time, but last night I went to a small group. Which was great! Except I forgot how little they think of Catholics and how casually they will say horrible, untrue things about my brothers and sisters in Christ. I have been working on undoing that propaganda that I was taught growing up, so to hear it again was simultaneously a shock, and so so familiar, because what was said is something I remember being told growing up and then myself regurgitating it to others.

One of the leaders of the group said (paraphrasing) "Catholics believe they can sin and do anything they want as long as they confess at the end of the week, so they go and do whatever they want during the week"

Yeah... Sure.... Some "Catholics" perhaps to this, but there could be "protestants" who do this same thing, but under the guise of grace instead of confession. "Christians" who use Christianity as a crutch through supposed loopholes they've found about grace or confession.

Anyways I don't fully understand the Catholic faith, but after knowing a lot of you from on here, I know now that this kind of thing is simply not true of true believing, devoted Catholics. I know you don't think you can just do whatever you want and run around sinning. I know you strive to be more Christ-like and put your sin to death.

#Catholicism #protestantism #Christianity

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literary-motif · 2 days

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In All My Dreams I Drown

Asirel Cain x Reader

Asirel experiences sleep paralysis.

Warnings: Insomnia, sleep paralysis

Asirel was not afraid of the dark. He had never been. The inky blackness of night had a way of soothing him. It seemed almost like the only escape from the crushing responsibility he carried during the day — almost because although the US slept, there were plenty of places around the world that were bussing with life and plenty of phone calls and e-mails he received during the dark hours.

Still, it felt different. Breathing was easier during the night. He had always enjoyed being awake while the world around him slept.

He had stretched this indulgence a little too far, it seemed.

When he first started he had finished business at perhaps one in the morning, going off to bed soon after. One had turned to two over the years, two to three. Now when he looked up from his computer screen, it was usual to see the blue tint of the early morning light, just before the sunrise. He went to bed when the sun rose, but his daily responsibilities never lessened.

Somehow, there was always more to do — more to plan, more to think about, more to work out. He was always busy, and although his hours of sleep had been steadily reduced over many years, the time he tried to wake up rarely varied.

It was becoming an issue. Asirel was very much aware of that. He had fought long and hard to reduce his hours, choosing to slip into bed as early as eleven at night, only to lie awake until the early hours anyway.

What had started as simply an unconventional sleeping schedule had developed into a more serious issue.

“Mr. Cain,” the blonde woman before him had said, giving him a sympathetic smile he thought she must flash to every patient. The sterile whiteness of her office nearly outshone the brightness of her coat, the stethoscope practically gleaming under the harsh artificial lights. “I am afraid there is not much I can do. Plainly speaking, it seems to me that you are under a lot of stress — if you reduce the stress, I am sure your insomnia will disappear.”

He had wanted to scoff but returned her smile with his own. It was polite, although a bit sardonic. “How do you suppose I do that, Doctor?”

She blinked as if nobody had ever asked her that question. “Well, it depends on what causes the stress, but either way I’d suggest—”

Physical activity. This time he did scoff, hiding it behind a cough.

Working out seemed the cure for everything, just like water. Asirel, have you tried going outside more? His mother’s words had felt mocking, and hearing the same advice from this professional who did not take his ailment seriously made a bitter taste appear in his mouth.

Headache? Drink some water. Back pain? Have you tried losing weight? Insomnia? Why, do some sports!

Pathetic. He took the prescription for sleeping pills without another word.

Sleeplessness in adults was very common, stress from work being mostly the cause of it, and although he supposed everyone experienced a bad night of sleep every once in a while — where they tossed and turned endlessly, without getting their mind to shut up as thoughts and worries swirled around until night turned to day and it felt like they had not slept at all — if these issues persisted for over half a month, things were no longer casual.

Reduce the stress she had said. How exactly could he do that, when his very existence came with a relentless pressure pushing down on his shoulders? His life was heavy. He did important things, and although he loved the responsibility and influence he had — the power. He loved the power of his job — he was the first to admit that his work had cost him many sleepless nights and hours pouring over papers at his desk with seemingly no end in sight.

The world was draining him of his strength, the love for his work — and the determination to change things according to his vision for it — faded under the relentless strain he had been under. He was at the end of his rope.

Much like a broken arm or sprained ankle, his insomnia hurt. It had causes, it had consequences. His mind felt like mush on some days, his thoughts dragging along until it took too much energy to direct their stream. His memory worsened, and the days blended — he remembered only little bursts of something, the important bits of meetings and conversations while all the rest faded to black.

How long since he had last seen his mother? A day? A week? When had his sister called? This morning? The day before yesterday? It was all a big lump of gray.

When had he last fed you? It must not have been that long ago, or else you would have complained.

Asirel was exhausted. He needed the world to stop for a day until he had his mind back together and ceased fraying at the edges. He took two sleeping pills, downing them with a large gulp of water.

They did not work as he had wished. He lay on his back, listening to the clock ticking on the other side of the room until his eyelids dropped, but he did not sleep. He lay awake for hours — still hours — until he slipped into oblivion, but his sleep was far from restful.

It felt like he did not sleep at all.

He thought he opened his eyes in the morning, looking at the rays of sun streaming in through his window. He found he could not move. His heart skipped a beat, his mind slipping into a spiral of panic that the rational part of his brain sliced through with two words: sleep paralysis.

Where were the hallucinations?

As the thought crossed his mind, he heard it. Loud banging came from the hallway, stomping that came closer and closer. His heart sped up, fear pulling him under despite knowing this was not real. He knew it, but the bangs approaching, getting louder and louder in tandem with his racing heartbeat made it hard to believe it.

He tried to close his eyes, not wanting to see what his mind would come up with to torment him, but he could not. The room would not disappear before him, and he still could not move.

Terror seized him, and he tried fighting the unshakable pressure pinning him down. The world around him felt like dough, his body limp around it as it was pushed into the mattress. There was a weight on his chest, heavy, unlike anything he had ever experienced before as it crushed him, keeping his lungs trapped.

Something moved at the edge of his vision. The stomping approached closer and closer. Asirel wanted to scream. He tried, but his mouth did not comply, there was no air in his lungs. The only thing escaping him was a low whimper. The stomping came from right beside his bed.

A figure walked into his line of vision. It vaguely looked like him, but as he stared into its pale face — too pale — he saw blood trickling from its mouth. Its hair was dirty, a dark shade of blonde with specks of deep red in it. Its black eyes stared at him as it approached.

He had never been as scared as he was now, helplessly trapped in his mind while this shadow version of himself reached out a bloodied hand towards his face. It leaned closer, hovering inches from him.

“They’re coming to make you pay,” it said, "make you pay. Pay. For all you have done, they’ll make you pay. Pay. Pay. I��ll kill you if you don’t pay. Make you pay. They’re coming. They’re coming! Hide!”

The door flung open. Asirel felt himself resurfacing. The apparition vanished, the banging stopped and he blinked his eyes open. His brain felt numb, slowly awakening with pins and needles as he turned around. He still felt heavy, barely awake as reality slowly clicked back into place.

You stood in the doorway, surveying the room with a stance that told him you were ready to lunge at an attacker. Once you realized the room was empty, your eyebrows furrowed. “I heard your heart beating out of your chest not twenty seconds ago, Asirel. What’s going on?”

The pressure on his chest had lifted, and he let out a deep sigh as he moved a hand — relief flooding when he realized he could — to rest against his forehead. What an experience. Something still felt off, and there was a creeping terror at the edge of his mind that he could not shake.

“Had,” he cleared his throat, closing his eyes to escape your puzzled expression, “had a— a nightmare, I suppose.” It was not the truth, but he did not feel like explaining sleep paralysis to you. The experience was still too fresh on his mind, and he feared talking about it might make it more real, turning this into a permanent curse. “Thanks for— for waking me.” Thanks for watching out for me.

You stared at him, the trembling in his voice and his still accelerated heartbeat telling you that something had shaken him to his core. “No problem,” you said, approaching him to sit on the edge of the bed.

Asirel gave you an uncertain look. Hesitatingly, he lifted the edge of the covers.

You chuckled, slipping in beside him. He snuggled into your arms immediately, resting his head on your shoulder and breathing in your scent.

It grounded him, having you close. Your strong arms around him made him feel secure like nothing else could, certain that you would protect him. Despite it all, he knew he could trust you — and you knew he did as you heard his heartbeat even out and his breathing deepen. “Do you mind if I—?” he mumbled, eyelids drooping.

“Go ahead. I’ll be here when you wake up,” you said, fastening your hold on him. Asirel drifted off to sleep in your arms, catching a few hours of the most restful sleep he had had in a long time.

#sakuverse #zsakuva #asirel cain x reader #asirel cain #asirel #zsakuva asirel

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dirtyzucchini · 2 days

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Let me tell you something about Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police, who came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of his father and, for reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, remained, attached as liaison with the Canadian consulate.

There was never much of a chance that Benton Fraser would grow up to be what most people would casually call "a regular guy". From what little insight we get, no part of his childhood would have been standard. Looking at the anecdote Bob Fraser tells in Burning Down The House, we can assume that Benton grew up in a cabin his father built by hand, in a location remote enough and far enough North that living in an igloo during the construction of said cabin was a sensible thing for his parents to do. We see one picture of the family in Good For The Soul, and it is a puzzler:

Now, I wasn't around in the mid to late 1960's when that photo would have been taken, and I've never been to Canada's far North, but everything I could find anywhere tells me that that is not how (white!) people dressed then even up there, and no, I am not talking about trendy fashion. Everyday clothing looked pretty much like what we still wear today, but the people in that picture don't. They look like this guy - a European "explorer" whose picture was taken in 1889:

Side note: I am purposely only talking about white/western/mainstream society in this post because the Frasers are white.

I wonder what drove them to live like this, and so far away from other people? It can't have been money, Bob would have made enough to support them. I guess Fraser's parents weren't regular guys, either.

Anyway, we know that Bob wasn't around much while Fraser's mother was alive, and even less so after her death. He handed the boy off to his own parents instead, and Benton was raised by literal, real life Edwardians, people who were born before the invention of band-aids and bubblegum. Public radio broadcasts were cutting-edge technology when they were young. I'm glad they stepped up, and I'm sure they did their best, but they weren't exactly well-equipped to prepare a child for life in modern society. They were librarians who for some reason moved around a lot. When he was eight, they took Benton to a place called Alert - the northernmost continously inhabited place in the world. Unfortunately it's inhabited by soldiers and researchers who go there on six-months-tours, but it counts because the tours overlap. Fraser would have been the only child there, and, the times being what they were, his grandmother the only woman. What librarians would have done in Alert we can only speculate about, but between this and the fact that they helped build an English-speaking library in China before the revolution, we can safely assume that we are dealing with another generation of non-regular Frasers here. This idea is supported by the fact that they fed Fraser arctic tern for Christmas. Each bird weighs under 130 grams, and they would be hard to come by in northern Canada in December because they migrate to literally the other end of the world after breeding in the Arctic in the summer. I'm not entirely certain what this says about Fraser's grandparents, but it sure says something, doesn't it?

This bird may scream, but it does not scream Christmas to me.

Listen, I LOVE that Fraser's grandmother taught him how to box from a book.

Perhaps this one from 1922? In this book, the writer "not only describes the various moves of the game and traces the history of their development but deals comprehensively with all the factors of body and mind that make for success in the ring." Sounds like a good choice!

I do NOT love that she taught him that being in the hospital for three weeks after being shot in the back is "babying yourself". She also raised Bob Fraser to be the kind of man who tells his journal "The last time I saw Ben, he was barely tall enough to reach my belt. When I said good-bye he shook my hand. Never a tear or a complaint. Seven years old and he's already a stronger man than I'll ever be. Someday I'll tell him.", and friends, I DO NOT love that at all. That is NOT a healthy way to deal with emotions, and I think we can agree that growing up guided by these mindsets did Fraser no favors at all. Look at how he lives! His apartment is absolutely bare-bones, no personality, and after that he literally lives in his office - this is a man who gets REALLY uncomfortable when he's comfortable, is what I'm saying. Everything he does is quick and efficient to make sure he can devote a maximum amount of time to his work. I'd bet "Idle hands are the devil's workshop" was a very common saying in the Fraser household.

Look, our upbringing informs who we become, how we approach life, how we connect to those around us. Fraser's view of the world is completely different from how other people see it. Long before he's displaced geographically, he's displaced in time.

He grew up without TV, and while living with librarians gave him access to a large number of books, the libraries they worked at served remote communities and would not have been all too well funded. It stands to reason they would have had to make their books last as long as possible, and that new purchases would have been, shall we say, conservative? Copies of beloved classics, books with general appeal, books with educational/instructional value would have made up the bulk of purchases. Even if the librarians wanted to, there would have been little money to buy more controversial books - and it doesn't seem likely that Fraser's grandparents would have wanted to. Fraser probably grew up on adventure tales, detective stories and, as a teen and young adult, the classics from Austen to Shakespeare.

When he gets to Depot in Regina to become a Mountie he has nothing in common with the other recruits, and that continues throughout all his career. There's a reason he's still a Constable after all his years of service: he's severely lacking in social skills, and his upbringing is a big part of that problem*. He was raised by Edwardians on Victorian (and Romantic) mores and values, and bridging that gap to make connections with people from what's essentially a different world is very, very hard.

TL,DR: Fraser is both an alien and a time traveler, and we should remember that when we talk about him.

*Other parts of the problem are his queerness and neurodiversity, but those are topics for another essay. Please know that by problem I do NOT mean there's something wrong with him, I mean that there's something wrong with how society treats people like him.

Big thank you to @sammaggs and @sammeltassensammelsurium for excellent feedback!

#due south

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justjudethoughts · 1 day

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In Defense of Peter Pevensie. Originally written in response to accusations of Peter being "less complex" than other Narnia characters

If King Lune is the embodiment of masculinity as father, then Peter is the embodiment of masculinity brother. As High King, he becomes the brother of his people, but those seeds were sown in his own family.

From the very beginning of the story Peter is the leader of the Pevensie children, a job he evidently takes very seriously. But, unlike a lot of eldest siblings, he doesn’t use his status and power as a means to swagger around and lord it over the others. Quite the opposite, actually. It is immediately clear that one of Peter’s main functions in the Pevensie family is cheerleader of his siblings. This is shown not only in his open praise of their talents (for example, he hypes up Susan’s talent of archery in PC and cheers on Lucy for having been right after none of them believed her), but also generally tries to keep them in high spirits.

Take the context of LWW. The Pevensies are sent to the countryside because of air raids. They are going into a strange house with a strange man because the Germans are obliterating everything the children have ever known or called home. All of them are scared, Edmund’s bullying Lucy, and Lucy may or may not be going insane. But Peter can’t show any of them that fear, because he’s the oldest. They can’t know he’s scared, so he puts a bold face on it. One of the first things he says in LWW is “We’ve landed on our feet and no mistake” when he looks at the big house. He argues they are going to have a delightful summer after all. The next day, when the others are disheartened by the rain, he suggests they explore the house.

As the years go on, Peter earns the title “Magnificent.” In this, Peter truly embodies the JPII quote, “the ultimate test of your greatness is the way you treat every human being.” He has a bleeding heart for the least of these, but in an unassuming, humble way. Peter is not a man of pomp and circumstance. He has a servant’s heart, perhaps most evident in PC.

Upon returning to Narnia and learning of Caspian’s plight, he immediately makes it known that he has no intention of replacing Caspian. “I haven’t come to take your place, but to put you in it” is among the first things he says to his new friend. This isn’t about winning fame or glory or reliving the old days. This is about making right what was wrong.

He is generous with the Narnia creatures, even when they are a bit silly. When trying to pick a Marshall, he suggests the Giant Wimbleweather. Caspian warns him that the giant isn’t very smart, to which Peter responds, “Of course not. But any giant looks impressive if only he will keep quiet. And it will cheer him up.” Part of his reasoning is simply the injured feelings of poor Wimbleweather who earlier entirely messed up an important battle. The following conversation also takes place while they are searching for a Marshall. Reepicheep offers his assistance:

"I am afraid it would not do," said Peter very gravely. "Some humans are afraid of mice——"

"I had observed it, Sire," said Reepicheep.

"And it would not be quite fair to Miraz," Peter continued, "to have in sight anything that might abate the edge of his courage."

Instead of embarrass and insult Reepicheep by explaining that he is far too small and unassuming for such a job, he appeals rather to humans' fear of mice. Even while battle prepping, his is concerned about the hearts of his people. Bulgy Bear, too, he allows to be a Marshall, as it is the right of bears, no matter how silly they are.

Peter understands that duty means doing what is right, regardless of how it makes you feel. His first battle happens because Susan and Lucy are being chased by the wolves. When he hears Susan’s horn, he runs to help her. The book says, “Peter did not feel very brave; indeed, he felt he was going to be sick. But that made no difference to what he had to do.” His sisters needed him. And so he showed up. The same is true in PC, when he engages Miraz in single combat. Edmund asks if he can beat Miraz. Peter responds that he is fighting to find out. He goes in completely unsure that he is ever going to see his family again, but he does it anyway. Because Narnia needs him. Caspian needs him. His people need him. And his feelings aren’t the deciding factor.

When he makes mistakes, he owns up to them. In LWW, when the children plead before Aslan on Edmund’s behalf, Peter blames himself for being too hard on Edmund. In PC, when they finally see Aslan, he apologizes for having led them wrong the whole time. He is always trying to do his very best and falling short like the rest of us. But he accepts his fault with humility, gets back up and tries again.

By the Last Battle, we get to see Peter in his truest form. Even though he has been in England for years, when the seven friends see what looks like a ghost, he is the one who stands up and orders it to speak. Clad in his suspenders and button-down shirt, Peter is once more High King. “Shadow or spirit or whatever you are," he says, "If you are from Narnia, I charge you in the name of Aslan, speak to me. I am Peter the High King." And when night falls on Narnia for the last time it is Peter, once so scared to speak to Aslan (and even attempted to make Susan do it for him) that shuts the door. It is Peter that jests with Lucy when she weeps for Narnia, trying to lighten the mood. It is Peter that she turns to, time and time again, with her questions. It is Peter that Lucy, and all of the other friends of Narnia, trust to lead them.

It is also Peter, who, “shortly and gravely” tells Tirian about the fall of Susan. Because he has to. Because here he is, once again, the eldest, the leader. Here he is once again faced with the unpleasant task of shouldering the burden for others. But he won’t make Edmund or Lucy explain (in fact, they don’t say anything about Susan). Peter takes that pain for them, forces himself to form words. Perhaps, deep down, he blames himself. He always was a bleeding heart.

There are so many other things I didn’t include. I could talk about how Peter immediately offers to help Tumnus, simply because he did the decent thing and didn’t kidnap Lucy. Or his beautiful, redeemed relationship with Edmund. I could talk about all the times he is a rock for Susan, or his steady leadership despite his own hesitation. But really and truly, my point amounts to this: Peter is a brother. He is steady and humble and down to earth. He is brave. He is chivalrous and courteous and overflowing with affirmation for those he loves. He is a servant heart.

When I think of Peter, I think of carpentry and the honesty of working with your hands. I think of campfires and a night sky full of stars, and the feeling of warm flannel. I think of laughter and 19th century books for boys, and tomes upon tomes of Latin. I think of warm drinks, hot cocoa or coffee or tea, and the safety of home. It is home I think of most of all.

#the chronicles of narnia #narnia #peter pevensie

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mymoodwriting · 1 day

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Royal Blood

Female!Reader x Alpha!Seonghwa

Genre: A/B/O, Royalty

Warning: Isolation, Illness, Medication, Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Physical Abuse, Anxiety, Social Anxiety, Tears, Thoughts of Death, Thoughts of Suicide, Loneliness, ABO Dynamics, Suppressants, Scent Blockers

Words: 5.3K

Chapter One

(//Next) (@starillusion13)

Prompt: You were a princess in name alone. Unable to perform any of the duties that come with the title. It seemed to be your destiny to live a quiet life. That is until you met someone who refused to see you silenced. Perhaps your fate was wrong all along.

A/N: A new story for Ateez! Please show it lots of love!

“It’s morning, Princess. Time to wake up.”

A gentle sigh escaped your lips as you slowly opened your eyes. You could vaguely make out the sounds of birds chirping outside your window, a soothing little melody to help you welcome the new day. You sat up and did a bit of stretching, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You looked around your room, the only few things that you could call your own. It was the same old stuff from before, nothing ever changed for you. A moment later you were up on your feet, one of your two court ladies helping you dress while the other tidied your room. Your breakfast was served and you ate until you felt full. Then came your medicine. It had a horrendous taste, but was necessary for your health. After drinking that you were left alone.

Most of your life had been confined to this room. The only exception was your evening walk and the family gatherings held in the King’s quarters. Two court ladies waited on you, as well as an eunuch, but they spent most of the day running errands around the palace unless you called on them. In all honesty you rarely called on any of your servants. Besides their basic duties of escorting you around the palace, bringing you your meals, and preparing you for the day, there wasn’t much else they did. Being part of your entourage was probably the easiest job in the palace. For the most part you also dismissed your ladies in the morning, and they only returned to fulfill their daily tasks.

You lived a very solitary life ever since you were old enough to be left alone. It wasn’t entirely by choice, but you understood why you had to stay in your quarters. You were born ill, and it wasn’t something you could recover from. You took medicine daily to maintain what little of your health you had, and you stayed hidden from everyone else for that same reason. You had taken up many things to fill your days. You knew how to embroider, to paint, but unfortunately you could never take up music or dance. It was better to be quiet and not do anything that could cause you injury. Or in better terms, you shouldn’t do anything that could draw attention to yourself. Everyone knew the royal family was ashamed of you, and for the most part you shared in those sentiments. The rumors around the palace were always the same.

“It’s hard to believe the Princess is of royal blood. Everyone would believe she’s illegitimate if not for the fact she’s the Crown Prince’s twin. I suppose since the Crown Prince is so strong and perfect, his twin must be the embodiment of all his weaknesses.”

The royal family has always been known to be strong, every offspring, and every in-law. Any sort of weakness in the royal family was unheard of, so your birth was seen as a bad omen. You were still of royal blood, so they weren’t going to outright kill you. Instead they chose to keep your existence hidden. Not many outside the palace knew a Princess existed, and even some inside had no idea either. As far as they knew, you were just the daughter of some high ranking official, and you weren’t around long enough for them to realize otherwise. Sometimes you wondered why you even bothered to stay alive.

You weren’t exactly in a mood to do anything this morning, so you sat next to your window and looked out at your little garden. You did well to look after your plants, growing flowers and a few vegetables, but they weren’t for you to eat. With your garden so full of color and variety it welcomed other creatures to stop by and keep you company. You got to provide food for butterflies and bees, as well as birds and bunnies. It was nice to watch them come to your garden, but also bittersweet. They lived freely, coming and going as they pleased. You longed for something like that, but the chains that kept you in place ran through your blood.

After lunch you went on your walk. You didn’t go so far from your quarters, so it was a simple stroll through the royal garden, and a little walk around the palace. You walked the same path everyday, and as always kept to yourself. Occasionally you’d get a few glances your way, and heard some whispering about you, but no one ever approached you. They were either busy, or knew better than to engage with you. Not that you’d respond, you didn’t want to socialize with others either. That’s why it was important to walk with some sense of purpose, even if it was just to get back to your quarters. That way you appeared busy, which was another reason for someone not to bother you. At least that’s what usually worked.

“Hello, my lady.”

A gentleman suddenly stepped in front of you, blocking your path. He smiled kindly and offered you a bow. By the style of his clothes, you could tell he was a lord, but certainly not a familiar one. Since he was speaking to you, he was probably new to the palace and had no idea who you were.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The lord reached for your hand, but you took a quick step back. In the process you lost your footing and fell to the ground. He asked if you were alright, and attempted to help you to your feet, but you only scrambled back. Tears stung your eyes as you knew your mother would hear about this whole embarrassment of a situation and scold you for it. On top of that you just felt so pathetic.

“Lord Park!”

One of the guards came over and pulled the other away from you. The lord looked confused, but he was pushed back as the guard stepped forward and bowed.

“Apologies, your Highness.”

“Highness?”

“Lord Park is new to the palace and I am to escort him to his father. He escaped from my sight for a moment. Please forgive me for my failures. It won’t happen again.”

You didn’t respond verbally, but when the guard looked up you nodded to him. He bowed once more before grabbing the lord and taking him elsewhere. You took a moment to steady your breath before attempting to get up. It wasn’t exactly easy given that you were already nervous, so you asked your ladies to help you up. Once you were back on your feet your ladies dusted you off before you continued on your way. You asked them to help you with a change of clothes, knowing what was coming next.

“Your Highness, your presence is requested at the King’s quarters.”

“The King…”

Your nerves went up tenfold when your eunuch came to deliver the news, although you weren’t sure to be afraid or glad. The King never requested your presence, so this was a first. You made sure you were presentable and made your way over. Your arrival was announced and once you stepped inside you realized the real reason for your presence. The King hadn’t requested you, this was just an impromptu meeting of the royal family. Any positive feelings you had about the situation subsided and you bowed before taking your seat next to the Queen.

Across from you the Crown Prince sat, and he smiled at you when you arrived. You offered him a smile back, but merely kept your head down and remained quiet. A conversation had been going on before you arrived, and you only interrupted for a moment. Your presence didn’t change anything, so the others continued speaking as before. One of the court ladies served you some tea, but you weren’t entirely in a mood. These little gatherings never really involved you, so it was certainly pointless to invite you. Although you were a member of the royal family so your physical presence was required.

“Mother, I’ve told you, it’s too early to speak of marriage.” The Crown Prince said. “I have yet to begin my studies to inherit the throne.”

“All the more reason. You need a Crown Princess to help you begin your duties as King.”

“Father hasn’t even spoken of abdicating the throne. And even then, my marriage is not a condition to be King.”

“There are plenty of young and beautiful ladies to choose from.” The King mentioned. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to start looking at your options.”

“Father!”

The room erupted into laughter, and you merely smiled to yourself for a moment. Talks of the Crown Prince’s marriage had been going around for a while now. The Queen brought it up any chance she got, especially during these gatherings. Today seemed to mark the day the King finally joined in on that topic of conversation.

“You bring up a good point my son. I do believe it is time for you to begin the most important studies for the throne.”

“And your Crown Princess can study her duties as the future Queen and your wife.” The Queen added. “It’d be wonderful.”

Even though you felt invisible, and were mostly unwanted, there was still a part of you that wanted recognition. Or at least some sort of acknowledgement.

“Congratulations on your ascension and engagement, Crown Prince. The entire nation will be overjoyed by the news. I promise to do my best with my duties as a Princess to assist you.”

“Nothing’s official.” The Crown Prince spoke with a shy smile. “Simply speaking of it here doesn’t put anything in motion.”

“Nonsense.” The Queen stated. “I will send out a message in the morning to begin your search for a wife.”

“Mother!”

“Let the boy begin his studies and focus on the throne first.” The King interrupted. “A King serves the nation before anyone else. We can talk of marriage once he understands what the throne truly means.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“Let us meet tonight in the Crown Prince’s library. I have something to give you.”

“Of course, Father.”

The rest of the meeting continued on as it usually did. Despite speaking, no one cared for what you said, and you knew it was foolish to speak to begin with. You were the first to excuse yourself, leaving them to speak more freely, but to your surprise a moment later the Queen stepped out, coming over to speak with you. For a second there you thought you had escaped, but nothing got past the Queen.

“You made a fool of yourself today.”

“…”

“Your duties as a Princess?” The Queen scoffed. “You are a Princess in name alone. You are not capable of fulfilling any duties the title actually comes with. Do not expect to assist the Crown Prince with anything regarding his ascension to the throne, or marriage.”

“I understand…”

“Do you? Or did you already forget about your earlier embarrassment? You can’t even act like a proper lady in front of a lord.”

“I… I’m sorry… I-”

“I don’t want to hear it. Is it really that difficult not to draw attention to yourself?”

“Apologies, your Majesty. I won’t cause a scene again.”

You bowed to the Queen as she went on her way, not moving until she and everyone from her entourage were out of sight. You took a deep breath to hold back your tears and then retreated to your quarters. Your court ladies were about to begin undressing you when the Crown Prince arrived. You welcomed him into your quarters, taking your proper seat and keeping your head low.

“What brings you by, Crown Prince?”

“You know I hate when you talk to me like that, y/n. It’s just us here, the least you can do is drop the titles.”

You slowly lifted your gaze, seeing the childish smile on your brother’s face. You couldn’t help but mimic it.

“I wasn’t expecting you, Yunho. You don’t usually visit me after family gatherings, you and the King tend to talk for a while longer.”

“He wants to talk to me later, so I thought I’d bless you with my presence now.”

You chuckled. “Thank you.”

“Anything for my precious baby sister.”

“I’m like a minute younger than you.”

“Which means I’m a minute older, and that makes you my little sister.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it.” Yunho giggled. “So, tell me about your day. I heard you ran into a lord. How was that?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“Come on, tell me, was he handsome? Or perhaps cute? Did he stutter talking to you?”

“Stop it.”

“I wanna know.”

“Well, I fell to the ground and couldn’t speak a word. One of the guards apologized to me and pulled him away. It was just embarrassing.”

“Ouch. That doesn’t mean he won’t try again.”

“As if. He surely knows all about me now and knows to stay away. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to find someone and marry anytime soon.”

“Why not?”

“You haven’t even gotten married yet. There’s no way I’d marry before you. The Queen would never allow it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. You do too. So don’t play coy.”

“Alright. Let’s change the subject then. How are you doing lately? Any interesting updates?”

“Doesn’t my physician tell you everything about my health?”

“What? Yeosang, would never tell me such things.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I would like to hear from you. How have you been feeling?”

“Nothing’s changed, Yunho. My condition is the same. No claws, no fangs, my eyes don’t even change color.”

“I’m certain they’ll come in any day now.”

“That’s unlikely. In my state, I’m just lucky to be alive.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“It’s true. I’m not strong like you, not at all. You’re all grown up and ready to take on the throne, whereas I… I can’t be away from my quarters for too long.”

“You’re gonna get better. Yeosang tells me medicine is always advancing and-”

“I’d just like to live long enough to see you ascend the throne and marry. That would be enough for me.”

“Nonsense. You’ll live far longer than that. You have to be around to meet your future nephews and nieces.”

“We’ll see.”

“It is getting late, so I’ll let you get to bed. Good night.”

“Good night, Yunho.”

As far as you knew the only person who cared about you in the palace was your twin brother, Yunho. From an early age he was separated from you, he was the Crown Prince after all. Yet he made an effort to see you and play with you. He never said anything to your face, but you had heard the rumors all before. Everyone had been telling him not to engage with you, fearing he’d grow ill as well. Of course that’s not how your illness worked, but he didn’t seem to care either way. He was also told that he didn’t have to see you, it wouldn’t make him any less of a King if he did, but to him you were his sister and he wanted to be with you. Even though he sees you less nowadays, he still makes time for you and he treats you as his sister, and nothing less.

Of course all of that was made more complicated considering pack dynamics. The Crown Prince was an alpha, as was the King and Queen. It always had to be that way. Although despite the royal family being predominantly alphas, there were a few betas here and there, like yourself. For the most part the betas were just as strong and powerful, but clearly you were an outlier. As for everyone else who served the royal family, or the nation, they were either an alpha or beta since omegas were forbidden from entering the palace. They were the weakest of all, and could certainly cause problems, so in order to maintain peace and safety, they were not allowed.

There were other means of keeping balance as well. Everyone wore a necklace to help suppress their scent, the royal family included, and the same went for any guests. That way no one would be distracted by anothers’ pheromones. Furthermore, when necessary one would be excused from their duties to deal with heat and rut cycles. That is if they chose not to take suppressants. The palace was well organized so there was rarely any sort of problem in regards to one’s own instincts. It honestly seemed redundant for you to wear a necklace to suppress your own scent since it was already so weak, even the suppressants seemed unnecessary, but everyone had to comply with the rules in order to maintain peace.

“How are we doing today, Princess?”

At least once a week a royal physician comes to check on you. Over the years you had gotten friendly with them, now speaking on a first name basis.

“I’m the same, Yeosang. Nothing has changed, nothing ever changes with me.”

“One must always have hope. I believe you’ll get better some day.”

“Well that day cannot come fast enough.” You sighed. “Don’t give Yunho false hope about my condition.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you report to him about my condition. Don’t tell him I’m getting better or improving when I’m not. He’s gonna start preparing to ascend the throne. He shouldn’t worry about trivial things like my health.”

“Princess.”

“Look after him. That’s the best thing you can do for me.”

“I understand.”

♦♦♥♦♦

Yunho always did his best to fulfill every title he carried. He was the Crown Prince, heir to the throne and future King of this nation. High expectations had been placed upon his shoulders since birth, and he didn’t intend to let anyone down. He was also a son with the desire to make his parents proud, and part of that was making a life of his own. Yunho understood who he was, he knew that marrying for love wasn’t exactly a luxury he had. Still, he could make the most of what he could control. Although he couldn’t forget the other title bestowed upon him. That of an older brother.

It always displeased him to be told he didn’t need to care for his little sister. He understood she was ill, and that others were looking after her, but he couldn’t just ignore them. Even if everyone else did. At the end of the day he loved his sister and wanted to see her find happiness. Lately he hadn’t been able to see her often, and he knew with the abdication of the throne coming up, and potential marriage, he’d see even less of her. He missed his sister at times, missed the days when they were still kids and could play together. Although right now he had great expectations to meet. Perhaps once he became King and was married, when things settled down, he could see her more often. For now he needed to focus on his studies.

The night the King wished to speak with him, Yunho was rather nervous. This was the true beginning of him taking on the throne, and he didn’t want to disappoint anyone. After visiting his sister that evening he made his way to the Crown Prince’s library. There were still so many books he had yet to read, so he was curious what his father wanted to tell him. He waited patiently, reading quietly when the King finally arrived. Since it was just the two of them, and this was more about a father and his son, things were a little more relaxed. At first they made a bit of small talk, but tonight was about bigger things.

“I’m very proud of the man you are becoming.” Yunho’s father spoke. “And I do believe it is time you prepare to take my place.”

“You still have many more years on the throne, father.”

“Perhaps, but I do want you to learn more about our family, and the responsibilities you will come to bear.”

“I understand.”

“Good.”

Yunho watched as his father made his way towards the back of the library. He figured he would recommend a book, but instead he opened a secret passageway, revealing a hidden room in the library. Yunho’s eyes went wide and he followed his father into the new space. More books lined the walls, and a desk was in the center. He could tell many had passed through here before, all the kings before him, and those after him would learn of this place too.

“Woah…”

“This is the Crown Prince’s secret library. These books contain knowledge of our ancestors and our bloodline. Some of this information is unknown to the historians.”

“Unknown?”

“You will come to understand why.”

The King stepped over to the desk, grabbing the book that had been left on it. He looked it over for a moment before handing it to his son.

“Yunho… things are going to change for you from this moment on. I cannot tell you if they will be for better or for worse, as that is something you must decide for yourself.”

“Father…” Yunho stared down at the book in his hands. “I’m…”

“I do not expect you to begin your studies right away. So you may take some time to prepare, but the next steps are upon you. As always you may come to me for guidance.”

“Thank you, Father.”

The King left Yunho in his library, and the boy had much to contemplate. He looked around the hidden room, very curious about the knowledge they pertained. He’d be lying to himself if his father’s words didn’t frighten him, but becoming a king was no easy task. The night was still young, and his own curiosities would not let him rest. Yunho sat down with the book he had been given, wanting to learn more about his family history and the legacy he would uphold.

♦♦♥♦♦

It was easy to get bored when the days were always the same. Although you had gotten used to the uneventful nature of your life. Despite what your court ladies would suggest, you decided to sleep in today. Perhaps your dreams would be more interesting. Unfortunately they weren’t either, but at least sleep helped pass the time. You prepared for your evening walk, rather eager to see the garden. Around this time many of the flowers were blooming, adding to the beauty of the area. You were rather jealous of those flowers. Even if they stayed in one place, at least they didn’t remain the same. They grew and bloomed, changing their colors and shape, beautiful at every point in their lives.

“Princess.”

Hearing your title out in the open was always jarring. You ignored it though, not wanting to presume anyone was talking to you. There was a chance a foreign princess was in the palace, and you were never privy to such knowledge.

“Your highness, please.”

Someone stepped before you, forcing you to stop in your path. They were bowing to you, which was always a strange sight. You wondered who this was until they raised their head. It was the lord from before, Lord Park.

“Apologies for my sudden presence, I wanted to speak with you about our first encounter.”

“…”

“I wanted to properly apologize for my behavior. It was very rude in hindsight, and I suppose what I’m doing right now is as well, but I also want to properly introduce myself. I’m Park Seonghwa, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You took a careful half-step back. The last time Lord Park had spoken to you things ended badly. You understood his intentions, but you had no idea what his end goal was here. Although you were aware of the outfit he wore.

“I’m new to the palace, but I still felt it necessary to meet you. I’ll be working under my father, Minister Park, and look forward to crossing paths again.”

You recognized the name Park when you first heard it, but you weren’t sure if there was a relation. That is until now. The Park family has served the royal Jeong family for generations. Minister Park was the King’s most loyal and trusted advisor, as well as a close friend. The relationship between the two families has always been good, and has served the nation well. You knew the minister had a son that had been sent away to study and learn of the world. Now that son had returned as a man, and would continue to learn and grow under their father. At least now it made sense why Lord Park was making such efforts with you. It was best for him to have good relationships with the royal family, and that included the forsaken princess.

As eager as he sounded, you knew he’d soon learn the truth about your situation. There was no need to engage. That would surely also leave the right impression for him to learn from. You were hidden away for a reason, and things should remain that way. So you said nothing and walked past Lord Park, wanting to return to your quarters and mentally prepare for an unexpected visit from the Queen. Nothing got past her. You could hear the lord still calling to you, probably dumbfounded by your lack of a response, but that wasn’t your concern. Not to mention a moment later you heard someone speaking to Lord Park, scolding him over his interaction with you. Things had to be this way.

At least that’s what you always told yourself. Or perhaps that’s what was always told to you. Either way you accepted it. Once you returned to your quarters you laid down. You really appreciated Lord Park’s intentions earlier, feeling like an actual person, but it was all pointless. It was best to forget about him and move on. Hopefully he’d do the same, or at least get the message your silence invoked. You had your dinner and skimmed through one of your old books, thinking to request something new from the Crown Prince the next time he came by. That reminded you that it would probably be a while before you saw him again. He surely had already begun his studies for the throne, and that would be his top priority.

“The Queen is here.”

You felt yourself grow cold when you heard those words, only stunned for a moment before you got up and greeted the Queen. You already knew what was coming, or perhaps you underestimated your situation. As soon as you raised your head you were met with a slap across the face. You felt the burning throb on your cheek, but you did not move to cradle your injury.

“Is it so difficult to follow a simple command?”

“Apologies, your Majesty.” You bowed. “It was not my intention to cause trouble. The lord approached me on my walk and-”

“Don’t give me excuses. If a simple walk is the issue then just stay in your quarters.”

“What…?” You slowly lifted your head. “What do you me-”

“You have your own little garden here. Since it’s so difficult to not draw attention to yourself you shall remain in your quarters at all times unless you are called upon. Do I make myself clear?”

“Your Majesty-” Your words were met with another slap. “… yes… your Majesty, I understand.”

“The last thing I need is you causing issues when the Crown Prince is preparing for the throne and marriage.”

“Apologies, your Majesty.” You bowed once again. “I won’t be a burden anymore.”

“You still are.”

The Queen left and you remained in your position. It wasn’t until one of your court ladies came to check on you that you finally let yourself collapse. Silent tears had been dripping to the floor, and you soon joined them. With a crack in your voice you dismissed your lady, wanting to be alone. Tears continued to stream down your face, but you didn’t make a sound. You had learned to quietly cry long ago. Your throat burned and ached as you cried for yourself, having no on there for you, no one on your side. As the tears continued to flow you eventually exhausted yourself, passing out on the floor. You woke a while later, well into the night, when you heard some commotion just outside your quarters. You had no idea what it was, nor did you care.

The world outside your quarters was so full of life, even at night, but it wasn’t a world you were meant to partake in. It was very late, and you weren’t going to bother any of your court ladies at this hour. You removed your garments, tossing them off to the side and setting out your blanket and pillow. You were still exhausted from the tears, but you knew you wouldn’t have any pleasant dreams. A part of you hoped you wouldn’t see the sunrise, but that was out of your hands. All you could do was close your eyes and see what the universe had planned for you.

♦♦♥♦♦

“Your Highness, please, it’s the middle of the night, can’t this wait til morning?”

“No. Where is the King?”

“At this hour the King would be in his throne room reviewing petitions. You know he requests that no one bother him during that time.”

“He’ll make an exception.”

Yunho didn’t care for the hour, or the words of his servant. This could not wait. There was only one person in the palace who could stop him in his tracks, and he knew exactly where they were. The King’s servants tried to question why Yunho was there at such a late hour but he ignored them all and stepped into the throne room.

“Your Highness-”

“Leave us.”

None of the servants moved, everyone looking towards the King for a command. Yunho stared down his father, making it clear he had no intention of leaving. After a moment the King noticed the book Yunho held and then ordered everyone to leave and keep a distance. Once the doors shut Yunho stalked up to the throne and slammed the book down on the table.

“You’ve known, this whole time, haven’t you!?”

The King remained calm. “I presume this is about our lineage?”

“Does mother know?”

“She is unaware of the situation.”

“How could you do this!? All these years she-”

“This is necessary.”

“How!? How could you possibly think-”

“The choice I have made was not made lightly.” The King stood. “What I have done is for your own sake.”

“My sake? How is it for my sake?”

“You would not be king otherwise.”

“What?”

“You come here angry and frustrated but you have yet to think of the consequences. That is something I pondered over for a long time. The way things are now guarantees peace. If you disrupt that, you could end up dead.”

“Father…”

“I am the King. The day the throne is yours you may do as you wish, but for now you do as I say. You have a lot to think about but I trust you won’t do anything rash. Am I clear?”

“… yes… your Majesty.”

Yunho took the book back, storming out of the room. His servants had been waiting outside the building, quick to follow him once he appeared.

“Your Highness, please tell me you didn’t do anything to upset the King?”

Yunho didn’t answer, too many things still going through his head. Although he did suddenly come to a stop. Yunho’s gaze turned towards the entrance to his sister’s quarters, unsure of how to feel.

“The Princess is likely asleep at this hour…”

“I know.” Yunho kept walking. “I’m turning in for the night.”

“Yes, your Highness.”

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lilyandthegenshinbrainrot · 1 day

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i DO think it's very funny that the more we travel,,, these new gods certainly have a lot of confidence in their ability to protect themselves against Celestia !! and yet there's certainly a lot of forbidden knowledge and divine,, retribution of the past gods leftover in their lands !!

the closest thing in Liyue and Mond to these are the Chi of Yore quest about the old serpent and,,, perhaps the Wind and Time temples ??

It's almost funny !!

Mond's people literally go "we are not keeping any of that shit around!!" and Mond's archon is like "Okay, you are dead now! Time to join the winds <3"

and so there is no ghosts or any of that

Liyue's people is like. we have distinguished and obvious people in charge of handling the dead and the past remnants of the gods from before.

"Those are our exorcists <3 and ofc there is the Vigilant Yaksha who is very intentional in making sure the nation is safe :)"

Everyone else ?

No, they are all very much still reeling and grieving and carrying their dead with them, the ghosts of Inazuma and the entire mental state of their archon, the withering/forbidden knowledge and Khaenri'ah idealization of Sumeru, the corrupted waters + primordial sea of Fontaine,,, they are stuck and unable to move on, and in Natlan it's something that they carry for generations and generations until someone ruins the reputation. We don't know enough to say if that's,,, good but. what the hell guys, I know you're fucking with some dangerous things.

Their confidence alone will not save their nations in the end.

#genshin impact world building #genshin impact lore #Mondstadt #Liyue #Inazuma #Sumeru #Fontaine #Natlan #genshin impact

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vickyvicarious · 13 hours

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Quincey Morris said nothing about his intention, but I knew that all night long he patrolled round and round the house.

Joining the ranks of the blood- and sleep-deprived, Quincey Morris!

As always, I love the way he jumps right into taking action. He's reminded of vampire bats, he thinks the blood must go somewhere... so he patrols to keep an eye out for vampires, bats, people who are taking blood, whatever. Doing his best to guard her.

I do wonder about how much blood each man has given, though. It kind of feels like increasingly less, at least based on their activity levels afterward. Part of that may be due to circumstance; Arthur could afford to give more because he didn't have any urgent need to be doing anything else. Both Jack and Van Helsing had to be able to stay awake afterwards. And it's possible they are just getting more reckless with their own behavior as we go down the line. But still, Quincey being able to patrol around all night is a step up from resting first here and then at home (Art), resting for a while then going back to more sedentary work (Jack), resting for a bit then staying up at night sitting still (Van Helsing). He still gets some rest first, but then he is up and about and sleep-deprived. I don't feel like we can put all of that down to his manliness, royal lot of it or no.

A part of me wonders if Van Helsing saw that it wasn't going to be enough to save her, and cut off the flow a little earlier. Like, Quincey definitely still gave a lot, but maybe not as much as they'd otherwise have taken? Thinking of this line in particular: "Lucy had got a terrible shock and it told on her more than before, for though plenty of blood went into her veins, her body did not respond to the treatment as well as on the other occasions."

Perhaps Van Helsing just wanted to ensure that she didn't die right then of blood loss, because he believed that would mean she'd turn into a vampire. He's clearly doing his utmost to save her when he can, of course... but also, earlier that day, he told Jack ""If [death] were all, I would stop here where we are now, and let her fade away into peace, for I see no light in life over her horizon.""

So it's possible that at this point he expected her to die no matter what, and just took the minimum amount of blood to hopefully ensure it is a human death. The possibility that one type of death will lead to vampirisim and another will simply be a human death certainly could be supported in today's entry:

At times she slept, and both Van Helsing and I noticed the difference in her, between sleeping and waking. Whilst asleep she looked stronger, although more haggard, and her breathing was softer; her open mouth showed the pale gums drawn back from the teeth, which thus looked positively longer and sharper than usual; when she woke the softness of her eyes evidently changed the expression, for she looked her own self, although a dying one.

The difference seems to be between sleeping and waking here. But maybe that's only possible thanks to Quincey's blood in her. Or maybe it always would have been, but without Quincey's blood, she wouldn't have regained the strength necessary to wake up in the first place, let alone die awake/in a more human state.

#dracula daily #quincey morris #van helsing #lucy westenra #this is getting into the question of what does vh think is required to become a vampire #and is that different for lucy than others #i feel like his answer to this may change over time. but for now...

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wheneverfeasible · 15 hours

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Historical omegaverse au idea(s) I may never write but by the gods do I want to

I’m gonna be honest. I’ve been reading a couple historical omegaverse fics (specifically here and here) and I also watched The Nun II recently and idk. Ignoring the demon/horror aspect, I just kind of got caught with the idea of rural boarding school teacher and the lowly grounds worker there. With o!Steve as the teacher and a!Eddie as the groundskeeper of course.

Picture it. Steve has “adopted” Max (I know, I know, it’s usually Dustin, but since Claudia isn’t going to be in the final season, I just can’t stand to get rid of her and Max makes the most sense for needing a new guardian) but according to paperwork to keep Max safe, they have lied and said that Max is biologically his. Perhaps him taking her in was one of the reasons why his high society family has disowned him and now he’s a vaguely destitute teacher that he only got the job of because his friend Robin (who teaches foreign language obvi) vouched for him. His being a teacher there allows Max to attend classes, though some of the snootier kids are assholes about it.

Anyways, Eddie works the grounds with his uncle, both also quite destitute but they have a good thing going there, though they are always treated poorly by the rich children there. The exceptions are of course the Wheeler child, the Sinclair children, and the Henderson child, as well as their friends the Hopper-Byers children who are there on scholarship. This is the group that welcomes Max into their fold eventually too.

Eddie of course thinks Steve is a bit too snooty when he first lays eyes on him, but then quickly realizes Steve isn’t like that at all. (Steve meanwhile thinks Eddie is uncouth until realizing he’s actually quite gentle and sensitive.) As well, if he has a child at such a young age, Eddie realizes that Steve must have had her probably around his first heat right after presenting. This is a belief everyone holds, and one Steve and Max actively encourages to prevent them taking Max away from him, but it does lead to them both being look down upon frequently and has ruined all prospects for Steve.

There’s obviously lots of pining, plenty of misunderstandings, and lots of Robin and Wayne and Max watching these two idiots dance around each other and face palming. Robin is of course the only one who knows the truth about Max because Robin knew Steve before he was disowned, and knew about Max’s past too. Maybe, just maybe, Steve rescued her from an abusive household. A violent stepfather, an abusive stepbrother, an alcoholic mother…maybe Steve helps her escape and leaves his past life behind.

MAYBE the reason Steve and Max crossed paths was because the Hargroves and the Harringtons were in talks of an arranged match between a!Billy and Steve. Steve didn’t want it, saw how miserable Max was, and basically kidnapped Max (with her consent) and ran away with her to give them both a chance at a better life.

Which is why, after Eddie and Steve finally start to make their moves, the climax of the story angst begins where Billy has found them (maybe Neil is dead idk and Billy took over managing the family), claiming Steve belongs to him and offering to drop all kidnapping charges if he returns quietly with Max. Eddie learns the truth about Max’s parentage then, and Steve’s past, and the whole lot of them come up with a solution that I don’t know what it is yet.

Maybe Steve sacrifices himself and agrees to return and mate with Billy only if Max can stay with her new friends and Robin and for the Hargroves forget about her existence. Billy would eventually accept this. Maybe while Steve and Billy are set to return home, Eddie rushes to prevent their departure and challenges Billy to a duel or something.

Blah blah blah Eddie wins of course and Steve and Max get to stay and Steve officially adopts her, and he and Eddie finally get together and knock boots. And Steve and Eddie love Max as their own and eventually give her a younger sibling which she then fears they’ll love more than her and worries Steve will regret adopting her but obviously that’s not true and Steve and Eddie make sure she knows that she is theirs in all ways. Their first child, no matter what.

Anyways yeah. Maybe one day I’ll do the research necessary for this. Also when I have time to devote myself to this story in its whole. Definitely deserves at least 50k I feel. And I sadly just don’t have time for that right now.

THAT BEING SAID.

I also really adore the idea of teacher Eddie and groundskeeper Steve, because I love reversing tropes and I love making Steve work with his hands in a lowly position, especially if he used to be from a “proper” family, but then the plot would definitely change some. Steve could honestly remain as the omega in this situation too, or switch it up and make him the alpha. Probably get rid of the parent aspect, unless perhaps it’s post-divorce Susan who has become an alcoholic and Eddie did actually officially adopt her because they had been neighbors or something before he moved for a better life.

OR Steve is the teacher but the above about Max and Eddie is still true and she can only attend the school because he’s the groundskeeper which still causes issues with the popular rich kids. And Steve is the teacher who takes a shining to her. Not sure what the main drama aspect would be then. Maybe Eddie is framed for something and is being sent away from the school or arrested or something, and Steve & Co. prove his innocence.

Idk. So many options. My issue with aus is that I also come up with aus of aus because I can’t decide how most I would love things to go which then makes it difficult to actually write anything 😂

If anyone else wants to use any of these ideas in the meantime, feel free! Just tag credit and link the fic so I can read it!

Hostage tags: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

#historical omegaverse au #steddie au #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #max mayfield #robin buckley #stranger things #steddie #pre steddie #platonic stobin #plot thots

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jtmportland · 1 day

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Today I met a person so vulnerable to me that within two minutes of meeting, they shared a profound and personal darkness and I really heard It. I saw this human working on embracing all the parts of themselves, moving past a place where they felt trapped and held in that suffering – as if it were just their lot in life, their destiny. And there this person was, right in front of me, in front of the world – doing it – recovering, transmuting, transforming. Doing it with beauty, pride and massive amounts of tender empathy for themselves. I wish this for all of us.

In order to move past these places where we are uncomfortable we need to move straight through them, not around them, and maybe even embrace them. Isn't it true that the more we fight against some part of ourselves the more present it is? It shows up In our speaking, in our bodies and in our actions.

My best friend died of a drug overdose twenty years ago, September 18, 2004. He was 33. I share openly and honestly about it in hopes that it could help someone, perhaps with that specific issue - but more deeply, that it might help us all. Help us to see where our discomfort with who we are , or impatience with things we do that we wish we didn't, that keep us trapped in ways of being that make us unhappy.

When we look more closely we see we haven't forgiven ourselves, we haven't allowed for these deviations in our own expectations of ourselves or our loved ones. What suffering would be alleviated if we began recognise our own humanity in the struggles of both ourselves and of others. What if we took the time to look more often at how we are the SAME, not how we are different.

There's always time. In this lifetime or in the next – to do this work of forgiving ourselves, such that we might in turn offer that very forgiveness to those around us.

Joe, I forgive you. I hope you've done the same for yourself. You were a bright shining star that had to leave on your next journey. But please know your lessons are still teaching people here on this plane.

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stargazer-sims · 2 days

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I wrote a thing and It took me way longer than it should have...

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

Full Circle

Yuri is almost asleep when he hears the front door being slammed shut. The sound startles him enough to pull him halfway back from the edge of consciousness, but not enough to compel him to get up. He's far too settled to move unless it's absolutely necessary.

Beside him, Victor is completely asleep and snoring softly. That's another reason Yuri doesn't want to move.

It'd taken a lot of effort to convince Victor the sofa wasn't the best place for him to rest. He's sick with some sort of respiratory virus that's kept him home from work for the past couple of days, and although he has been sleeping in his bed at night, during the day he alternates between the living room couch and the armchair in Yuri's home office.

Victor may be an excellent nurse, but he's an absolutely terrible patient, and at one point it seemed to Yuri as if no amount of coaxing and cajoling would persuade him that he really should be in bed for at least part of the day. Evidently, he'd rather follow Yuri around the house like a sad puppy, or huddle under his blanket on the sofa and whine about how he’d probably die soon from dehydration or from his headache and fever, or from the ache in all his muscles.

"Wouldn't you rather pass away in the comfort of your bed?" Yuri said, trying not to let his exasperation show.

Apparently, Victor found that hilarious, and perhaps not unexpectedly his laughter devolved into a coughing fit so severe that he was gasping for air by the time it resolved and his face was wet with tears.

"Yeah," he whispered, after several seconds. "Maybe I would rather die in bed."

"Okay. Let's just tidy you up a bit first, though. No one likes a messy ending.”

Victor's eyes said he wanted to laugh again, but his body language told a different story. He placed one palm on the center of his chest and massaged slowly as if that might help ease what Yuri assumed was pain and tightness. Yuri felt sorry for him.

"I'm glad you're here to make sure I look nice and neat," Victor said.

"It's not about neatness. I don't want you to be uncomfortable. Now, let's clean your face, all right?"

Victor nodded his acquiescence. He meekly allowed Yuri to pat the tears from his cheeks with a tissue and then to hold several more under his nostrils while encouraging him to blow his nose.

Yuri hadn't really understood the English phrase 'man cold' until he'd experienced one of Victor's for the first time. Back when their relationship was new, he'd panicked because he thought Victor's illness was just as serious as Victor was making it out to be. He'd rung up the emergency clinic and everything, whereupon the female nurse practitioner who took his call had laughed at him and told him to give Victor acetaminophen and herbal tea and plenty of attention.

Solid advice, he acknowledges now. Naturally, hindsight is the clearest form of vision. A little more than twenty years after that first scary situation, he's a veteran of his husband's man colds and knows exactly how to care for him on the occasions when he's under the weather.

After disposing of the tissues, he helped Victor up the stairs as best as he could, tucked him into bed, checked his temperature, and then crawled under the covers with him. Victor would've inevitably wanted cuddles, and Yuri had essentially given up on accomplishing any more work in any case, so he decided he'd save Victor the effort of having to ask him to lie down with him.

Victor made a contented little noise when Yuri snuggled against his side and wrapped an arm around him.

"Comfortable?" Yuri asked.

"No, but I like it when you're close to me," Victor replied. He reached around to run his fingers through Yuri's hair, and added, "I'm not actually dying, just so you know. I only feel like I'm going to."

"I know," Yuri said. "I'm sorry I said that."

"It was funny. No need to apologize. I might feel like I'm ready for the morgue, but my sense of humour is still alive and well."

"That's good." He shifted position slightly so he could rest his head on Victor's shoulder. "Are we going to take a nap?"

"Hmm..." was Victor's wordless response.

Yuri can't help remembering how stressed Victor used to get when he had a cold or flu. He'd desperately want to be taken care of, but he didn't want to let Yuri do it, fearing that if Yuri got too close to him he would catch whatever Victor had. Eventually, they both figured out that it didn't matter because nine times out of ten Yuri would catch it regardless. After that, Victor learned to relax and to permit Yuri to fuss over him as much as he clearly wanted.

Yuri had once remarked to his mother-in-law how he thought time had changed both him and Victor. Grace's eloquent response was, "No, time doesn't change anyone. It gives people the opportunity to change themselves."

And how we've changed ourselves, he reflects as he lies next to his sleeping husband. Our attitudes have changed. Our priorities are different than they used to be. We're stronger than before.

This thought makes him happy. He used to fear change, but over the years he's come to understand that change can be good. He and Victor learned that together.

Well, not all our priorities have changed, he amends. I still love this one to the ends of the Earth and back and I still want to spend the rest of my life with him.

Yuri's mind is drawn back to the present by more slamming noises from downstairs. It's cabinet doors this time. And...the refrigerator? The fridge door being closed so hard that he's able to hear it from Victor's room cannot be good.

Victor stirs and mumbles something that sounds like, "What's going on?"

"I'd say Caroline's home from school," Yuri replies.

"Why's she so noisy?" At least that's what Yuri imagines his husband asks. Victor is obviously awake enough to hear, but not awake enough to produce coherent speech.

"I don't know, but I think I'd better go and check."

"No, I'll go," Victor says.

Victor moves like he's attempting to get up, but Yuri holds him in place with one hand. "No, you will not. If she really needs you, I'll send her up to talk to you. Otherwise, I'll look after her."

"But—"

"No 'buts'." Yuri leans over and kisses him on the forehead. "You don't need to handle everything yourself, love. You know that. Just rest, and let me take care of this."

The fact that Victor doesn't protest any further is an eloquent testimony of how bad he's feeling. "Okay," is all he says.

"I'll be back," Yuri promises.

"Okay," Victor murmurs again.

Yuri climbs off the bed and makes his way downstairs. He's still getting used to the layout of their new home. At the old house, the kitchen was in a direct line of sight from the stairs, but here the stairs are tucked away behind a wall and he has to round the corner to observe what's going on in the kitchen, dining room or foyer. He likes it better this way, though. The new house is almost as big as the old one, but somehow it feels more compact and cozy.

As he steps past the bookcases in the corner of the living room, he's able to spot Caroline sitting at the kitchen island. Her back is to him, but he can see that she's eating something from a bowl. Her hot pink backpack is on the floor next to the stool she's seated on, and its contents are peeking out of the half-opened main compartment. He notices her swimsuit and swimming cap in a clear plastic bag. The suit looks dry.

"Caroline," he says.

She doesn't turn to acknowledge him, but she says, "Hi."

He makes his way over to join her at the island. She's eating mint chocolate chip ice cream, which is her and Victor's collective favourite ice cream flavour.

She was slamming the freezer door, then.

"How was school?" he inquires.

"You know, it was school."

"And what about swim practice? You're home early. Was it cancelled today?"

'No," she says. "I didn't go. I didn't feel like it." She scoops an excessive spoonful of ice cream into her mouth and adds around the mouthful, "Don't worry. Jack and Matilda know. I said I wasn't feeling good."

"Aren't you? Feeling well, I mean. Maybe you're coming down with what Victor has."

"No, I’m not sick. I'm fine," she asserts. “Physically, anyway."

“So, what's the matter?"

"Nothing."

He smiles in spite of the circumstances. The blatant contradiction is such a typically teenage thing. "Are you certain?"

She stabs at her ice cream aggressively with the tip of her spoon. "Where's Victor?"

"He's in his room, resting. He's still not feeling well."

"Oh."

"Did you want to talk to him?"

"Yeah, but I guess it can wait," she says.

Yuri perches on the stool next to hers. "You can talk to me if you like."

He doesn't expect her to take him up on it. It's not that she never comes to him when she needs something, but he's much better at solving practical problems like how to write a good essay, who to call to get her bicycle fixed, and how to budget her money. She rarely asks him for help with more abstract personal issues, maybe because she thinks he's not good at that sort of thing, or perhaps it's because she's closer with Victor than she is with him.

Victor has always been Caroline's favourite parent. She'd bonded with him almost immediately upon meeting him, while she was still his patient, before he and Yuri even discussed the possibility of fostering her. It had taken much longer for her and Yuri to warm up to each other.

Yuri can admit he'd resented Victor's natural, easy relationship with Caroline in the beginning. He'd consoled himself by repeating over and over in his mind that it didn't matter because she was only a foster child and they wouldn't have her forever, but when Victor started bringing up the subject of adoption... To say he'd felt genuine panic would've been an understatement.

He'd been reluctant to tell Victor how he felt, but he knew he had to. Adopting a child was far too big a step for him to simply go along with it because it was something that would make Victor happy. That might've caused more discomfort and resentment in the end. It might've torn a rift between them that would've been impossible to repair, and that was the last thing Yuri wanted.

He shouldn't have been surprised at Victor's response. Rather than being upset or disappointed, Victor listened patiently while he poured out his fears and misgivings.

"I feel like an awful person," he'd confessed. He's never been one to put his emotions on display, but he'd been overwhelmed in that moment and couldn't prevent a few tears from escaping. It wasn't just his inability to embrace Caroline's presence in their lives the way Victor had that was troubling him, but also all the negative sentiments he'd been experiencing; insecurity, inadequacy, resentment, and perhaps even a little jealousy. On top of that, he was struggling under a weight of guilt and shame for having all those other feelings in the first place.

"You shouldn't," Victor told him. He'd pulled Yuri gently into his arms and let him lean against his chest. "You're not a terrible person."

"But... shouldn't I get along with her like you do?"

"Not necessarily. We all build relationships in different ways, don't we? Do you have the same relationship with both your parents?"

"No."

"No, and I don't have the same relationship with Mom that I have with Julian either, and that's okay. I love them both, and I know they love me, and that's what's important."

"That's the problem," he said. "It's obvious Caroline loves you. Shouldn't she love me too? Shouldn't she want me to help her with things and play with her and comfort her? How can I think about adopting a child who doesn't want..." He'd let the sentence fade away, unfinished. He could hardly bear to complete the thought, much less lend words to it.

"Yuri." Victor's voice was soft. He didn't speak again for several seconds, choosing instead to rub Yuri's back with the long, firm strokes Yuri had always liked. After a while, he said, "Tell me something. Do you love Caroline?"

"Yes," Yuri said. He couldn't deny that. Despite his failure to form the kind of connection with her that Victor had, he still cared deeply for her. The difficulty was, he wasn't sure she cared for him, and he was equally uncertain his love for her would be enough to make a permanent arrangement work.

As if reading his thoughts, Victor told him, "That's enough for now. Showing her you love her is the right first step. It's gonna take time for her to trust you, but you'll get there."

"She trusted you straight away. How much time will it take for me?"

"I don't know exactly," Victor said. "It could be weeks or months. You gotta keep in mind that she's been through a lot, and maybe you remind her of things she's trying to not remember right now."

"Such as?"

"Her old life. Speaking Japanese, eating with chopsticks, following all those social etiquette rules... stuff like that. Plus, you kind of look like her dad. I mean, you've seen his passport photo. I know I would've struggled if somebody who looked like my dad suddenly came into my life after he died."

"Oh." This had never occurred to Yuri before, mostly because he'd been looking at everything from his own point of view rather than trying to see things through Caroline's eyes. "Then... maybe adopting her truly isn't a good idea. I... I don't want to make it worse for her."

"You won't," Victor said. "Believe it or not, she needs something you can give her that I can't. Lots of things, actually, but she's going to learn resilience from you. She's gonna learn courage and perseverance and patience, and you know... how to pick herself up and keep going."

"Because she has a disability?"

"Yeah. I can't teach her how to live with a disability, but you can. But, it's more than just that. It's for everything in life, 'cause she's gonna fail sometimes and she might have to go through more bad experiences, and she's going to need to know how to take care of herself and not give up when stuff like that happens. You're amazing at that."

"So are you."

"Only because I've got you to support me," Victor said. "And because I figured out how to follow your example."

"But, how can I teach Caroline anything if I can't even get close to her?" he asked, hoping his desperation didn't show too much.

"Don't underestimate her," said Victor. "It's not like a violin lesson where you have to actively teach her. Just be there for her, and give her time. Let her see who you really are, and try to see her for who she really is."

"How am I meant to do that?"

"How do you do it with anybody?" Victor countered. "Like, you coexist with her, live your life alongside her, and... I don't know. Maybe ask her if there's something she'd like the two of you to do together. If you can work out what you have in common, that might help you communicate better, and I think that'd help you get closer."

Victor had been right, of course. About everything. It'd all gone much better once Yuri stopped worrying about how Caroline felt about him and turned his attention toward finding more common ground with her.

It started with gardening. One day, he asked her if she'd like to help him in the garden, and she said she would. After that, they spent a lot of time tending both the outdoor and indoor plants together. They rarely conversed at first, but they enjoyed being together nevertheless. Slowly but surely, Yuri began to feel less like an extra and more like a main character in the story of his family's life again.

Then, a day came when Caroline noticed him clipping his bonsai tree and asked him about it. Without thinking, he answered her in Japanese, something he'd been careful to avoid doing for the several preceding weeks.

To his utter shock, Caroline began to cry. Alarmed, he put down his shears and dropped to one knee so that he was at eye level with the six year old. When he asked her what was wrong, she told him tearfully that she missed speaking Japanese.

"I thought you didn't want to," he said.

"I didn't," she agreed. "You know, 'cause it made me sad. But then I got scared that I might forget, but I was also kinda scared to tell you that I changed my mind."

"It's okay," he said. "You can tell me anything you want. You don't have to be scared. I'll always listen to you, and I won't be upset if you change your mind about something."

"Really?"

"Really," he assured her. "People don't always feel the same way about everything all the time. It's totally normal to change your mind about things, especially if you know something new that you didn't know before."

"Like... how I didn't want to eat hot dogs, but now I do 'cause I know they don't really have dogs in them?"

Yuri smiled. "Yeah, exactly like that."

"Yuri?"

"Yes?"

"Can I have my own bonsai tree? I want you to teach me how to make it pretty like yours. Then I'll know something else I didn't know before, and maybe I'll want to change my mind about... other stuff."

She did not elaborate on what 'other stuff' meant, but Yuri was sure he could guess. "Of course you can have your own tree. We can ask ojii-chan to send you one from Japan. Would you like that?"

Could he have gotten her a tree from a local plant nursery? Obviously he could have, but it somehow seemed more appropriate to ask his parents to send one.

That was exactly the right choice, as things turned out. Caroline got very excited when Yuri told her his father had sent them a tracking number for the package, and for the next few days it became their little ritual to check the location of Caroline's tree on its journey from Japan to Canada. When the courier arrived, Caroline wanted to sign for the box herself, and the man graciously let her do it. Yuri scrawled his initials next to Caroline's wobbly signature, and thanked the courier for such good service.

The little tree was perfect. It survived its long voyage with no damage, and only needed water and sunlight for it to get back to looking its best. Caroline cherished it, caring for it and talking to it as if it were a pet, and she eventually learned how to trim it herself. She still tends it with as much care and dedication as she did back then, and she still loves to show it off to visitors. Under her hands, the tiny juniper tree is thriving.

It's a lot like Caroline herself, he thinks.

He'd had to learn how to nurture her, how to guide her and teach her to grow. He didn't always get it right, and as flawless a parent as Victor appeared to be, he made mistakes sometimes too. Overall, though, Yuri is proud of their progress, and he's exceptionally proud of the daughter he and Victor have raised together.

Caroline's voice inserts itself into his musings. "If I talk to you, are you going to pay attention?"

Yuri blinks. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was lost in thought."

"Long day, I guess."

"Victor's a handful when he's ill."

The smallest hint of a smile lifts the corners of Caroline's mouth. "Is he dying this time?"

"Yes, quite dramatically if you must know," Yuri says. "In a scene taken straight from a soap opera, I'd say."

This elicits a laugh. "That's how you know it's not as bad as he wants you to believe it is. If he was really sick or in a lot of pain, he wouldn't be all dramatic and stuff. Remember when he had to get those two teeth out?"

Yuri does remember. There hadn't been any theatrics that day; just Victor with his bruised and swollen jaw, crying quietly in the passenger's seat of Yuri's car on the way home from the hospital. He'd gone straight to bed with no fuss as soon as they got home, and later that evening he'd let Caroline feed him puréed fruit mixed with protein powder, with a look in his eyes of such profound gratitude that it made Yuri's heart ache to see it.

Yuri nods. "You're right. That was different."

"He'll be okay," Caroline says.

"I know, but how about you? Are you going to be all right?"

Caroline sighs. "Yeah, probably. I'm mad, but I'll get over it. It's dumb teenager stuff anyway."

"It can't be all that trivial, if you wanted to talk to Victor about it and it made you want to skip swim practice and break all the cabinet doors," Yuri says.

"Sorry about that."

"It's fine. You're not in trouble," he says. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

She eats a spoonful of ice cream, and then sits there with the spoon still in her mouth, clearly weighing up her options. Finally, she puts the spoon down and then turns slightly on her stool so she can look at him directly. "I think I'm going to break up with Forest."

This pronouncement takes him by surprise. "Why?"

"We had a fight," she says. "Not some silly disagreement over some random thing, but like, a really serious argument."

"About what?"

"You know this week at school is Futures Week, right?"

'Yes," Yuri says. "I remembered that was happening this week."

"We're in our last year of high school, and we've gotta start planning what we're going to do after," Caroline says. "They've got people from different universities and colleges coming in to give presentations, and even some guy from the military was there. Plus, we can schedule meetings with the school's guidance counsellors, and today was career day, where they had all these different professionals come in and set up tables in the gym so that we could meet them and talk about what it's like to have different kinds of jobs."

"I know about that too. James went there to represent our firm."

"I know. I talked to him. Felicity Greene's dad too, and Uncle Leo, although I don't really want to be a lawyer or a preschool teacher. Felicity said it was weird that her dad was there, and like, no surprise that Nora didn't even go 'cause she was too embarrassed about her dad being there. Honestly, I wouldn't have been embarrassed. I would've liked it if you and Victor came."

"We were otherwise occupied," he says. "But, you were telling me about you and Forest, weren't you?"

"Stupid Forest," she grumbles.

"What happened?"

"Forest didn't go either," she declares.

"Do you mean, he didn't go to school today?"

"No, he was at school, but he didn't sign up for any of the university presentations this week, and he totally refused to come to the career thing. He hid in the library the whole time."

"That doesn't sound good."

"You know my friend Mohammad? He saw Forest in there and he told me, so I went to get him, and that's how the argument started." She looks away from him momentarily as her pale skin turns deep pink. "We... we got kicked out of the library."

"Did you get detention?"

She shakes her head. "No. We went outside so we could keep talking, but that's when it really got bad. Forest told me he's not going to university."

Yuri frowns. "I thought he was planning to go to art school."

"I thought so too," Caroline says, "But now he's not. He says he doesn't want to waste his time and his parents' money on something that probably isn't going to help him get a job anyway. He says he's just going to keep working at the pizza place after graduation until... until whenever we get married. Can you believe he actually said that? I never said I wanted to marry him!"

"Didn't you?" Yuri queries. "The way I recall it, you and Forest have both been saying since you were seven years old that you want to marry each other some day."

"Yeah, well... I changed my mind," she says adamantly. "Maybe I said I wanted to marry him before I realized he has like, absolutely zero ambition. How can he be happy making pizza for minimum wage? How does a person not care about their own future?"

"There are loads of reasons why somebody might not care about their future," Yuri says.

"I'm sure none of them are very good reasons," Caroline scoffs. "Anyway, I can't be with somebody who doesn't even have goals."

Yuri is silent for a handful of seconds as he composes his thoughts. At last, he asks quietly, "Have you ever considered that you're his goal?"

Caroline peers at him, a look of perplexity on her face. "What do you mean? How can a person be another person's goal?"

"You and Forest remind me a lot of Victor and me," he says. "For the longest time, I didn't have any goals or ambitions for the future either. The only thing I wanted in life was to be with Victor. I wanted him to stay close to me and love me and give me as much attention as possible, and I wanted him to be happy. I thought that if he was happy, that would make me happy."

"Yeah, that kind of sounds like Forest," she affirms.

"And you're like Victor. You've got plans and dreams. You want to have adventures and accomplish loads of things in your life."

"Exactly."

"Another way you're like him is that your happiness doesn't depend on other people."

Caroline nods. "I learned that from Victor, actually. I remember when I was little and I'd be upset, he always told me that it was okay to feel angry or sad or scared, but that I shouldn't let myself stay like that. Like, he said if I wanted to feel better I could get there, 'cause my happiness is my own responsibility."

"He's right," Yuri says. "I know because he taught me that, too."

"Really?"

"Really. I used to be scared about quite a lot of things, and that was one of the biggest reasons why I didn't have any goals for myself. I was too afraid I'd fail at anything I tried, so I barely tried to do anything new. Then, I was depressed and frustrated, thinking about how I'd never accomplish anything."

"So, what did you do?"

"I ate a strawberry."

Caroline laughs out loud. "You always say strawberries make everything better. But seriously, what did you do? How'd you fix yourself? 'Cause you've never seemed like the type of person who's afraid of much of anything to me."

"I really ate a strawberry." Yuri repeats. He recalls the monumental effort it'd taken to pick up his chopsticks and feed himself that one small piece of fruit. "It was one of the hardest things I've ever done."

Caroline is staring at him as if he's setting up for some sort of joke. "But, you love strawberries."

"I do," he concedes. "But that doesn't mean it's always been easy for me to eat them. The winter before we moved here from Japan, I was so ill that I didn't know if I'd survive it. I couldn't eat, and I was so weak and in so much pain that I couldn't even sit up in bed on my own. My doctor decided that if she was going to keep me alive, I'd need to have a feeding tube, so that's what we did."

"Is that what the little scar on your belly is from?"

"It is," he confirms. "One might think it'd be scary to get all your nourishment through a tube in your stomach, but it was such a relief to me. It meant I didn't have to physically eat anything, and I knew the formula would be safe and wouldn't cause me any pain. That eliminated the anxiety of eating."

"Eating gave you anxiety? Like... just eating?"

"Yes, and it still does sometimes, as hard as that might be to grasp."

"It kind of is, honestly. I love eating."

"I know you do. That's another way you're more like Victor than like me." He smiles. "I'm glad you love to eat. I wouldn't wish my problems on anybody."

"So, what happened?" she prompts. "Obviously you started eating real food again."

"I had to go through a lot of therapy," he says. "The goal was to remove the tube within a year, and as much as I was relieved that I didn't have to put food in my mouth for a while, I also knew I didn't want to live with the tube long-term. So, my doctor and therapist got me to start by setting small goals, and the first one was that if I wanted to eat anything by mouth, I had to feed myself."

"You weren't feeding yourself?"

"No."

"Why?" Caroline asks.

"It was too difficult," he replies. "At least that's what I'd convinced myself of, but the truth was, I'd essentially given up on everything. I couldn't imagine a future with anything other than more pain and fear and failure, and it was... too much."

"But eating a strawberry changed your mind?"

"It wasn't actually as simple as that, but eating a strawberry showed me what was possible," he says. "Victor was having a fruit salad. The strawberries were fresh and they smelled delicious, and I really wanted one, but Victor wasn't allowed to feed it to me. It took all the willpower I had in me to put that strawberry into my mouth, and I almost changed my mind at the last second, but to this day I'm glad I didn't. Now I like to think that one strawberry was the beginning of the rest of my life."

"How?"

"Because it made me realize even the smallest victories matter," he says. "Because I started to understand that success can be measured in tiny increments and doesn't have to be something huge or spectacular. But, mostly because I finally saw that I could do things for myself, that I could set goals and work for them."

"So... you're saying Forest should eat a strawberry?"

"Metaphorically speaking, yes."

"How can I get him to do it?" Caroline wants to know.

Yuri reaches across the space between them and touches her hand lightly. "That's the thing, little one. You can't."

"But—"

"Forest has to be ready to learn that lesson on his own," Yuri says. "I'm sure Victor was frustrated with me sometimes, and maybe he even secretly questioned why he'd agreed to marry someone with so little self-worth, but he never pushed me. That wouldn't have worked."

"What did he do?"

"He stuck with me even when I thought he'd be better off leaving. He was patient with me, and he loved me when I didn't know how to love myself."

Caroline picks up her spoon again and begins to fidget with it. "Are you saying I shouldn't break up with Forest?"

"No," Yuri says. "Only you and Forest can decide whether or not that's the right choice. What I'm saying is to give yourselves some time to calm down after what happened today, and then ask him if the two of you can talk. Arguing is normal, but you need to deal with the thing that caused the argument to begin with."

"Even if we're not going to be girlfriend and boyfriend?"

"Even so, especially if you still want to be friends with him."

"I do," Caroline says emphatically. "I love Forest. He’s my best friend. Even if we end up marrying other people some day, I always want us to be friends."

"If that's truly how you feel, then don't give up on him," Yuri says. "You can still help him even if you're not in a relationship."

"But... you just said I can't make him eat the metaphorical strawberry."

"You can't make him do it, but that doesn't mean you can't show him the way. You can talk to him and try to find out what's holding him back, and you can support and encourage him when he wants to try new things."

"Like getting his driver's license?"

"Exactly. If you're proud of him for doing that, then tell him."

"I am," she says. "That was a big deal 'cause he was so scared he wouldn't pass the road test, but he did it."

"Then make a big deal of it," Yuri says. "That might seem silly, but unless I miss my guess, it won't seem silly at all to Forest."

"Do you think it'll work?"

"Only time will tell," he says. "The surest way to find out is to try."

"Okay," Caroline says. She slips off her stool and steps forward to hug him. "Thanks for the talk, Papa."

He reciprocates the embrace, pleased as always to hear her call him 'Papa' and to get a hug from her. She's physically demonstrative like Victor, and although her spontaneous displays of affection sometimes made him uncomfortable in the early days, he's grown to appreciate them very much.

"You're welcome," he says.

"Is it okay if I go upstairs and say hi to Victor now?"

"I'm sure he'd like that, but don't disturb him if he's sleeping."

"I know," Caroline says. "If he's sleeping, I'll just stay in there and start my homework. You know, so he won't be alone when he wakes up."

"Good idea," Yuri says. "I was going to go back up there with him and I thought perhaps we'd order something for dinner, but now that you're here, you can keep him company and I can cook instead."

"What are you going to make?"

"How do you feel about carrot and ginger soup? That's fairly easy. And I can make grilled cheese sandwiches for you and Victor."

"We like those," Caroline says. "Ice cream for dessert?"

Yuri smiles. "Haven't you already had enough ice cream?"

"Is there such a thing as too much ice cream?" She gathers her backpack from the floor and slings the strap over her shoulder before turning to leave. “You can text me when it's ready. That way, you won't have to yell."

Yuri waves in the direction of the stairs. "Go. I'll just bring your sandwiches to you, and then you can come down here for soup afterwards."

"Cool. Thanks!"

Yuri watches her as she disappears around the edge of the bookcases. He can hear her bounding up the steps with all the energy her mere seventeen years afford her and wonders if, like Victor, she'll retain most of that energy into middle age. Caroline and Victor may not be biologically related, but they're so much alike that they might as well be.

Both of us may be her parents, but she's truly his child.

Shaking his head, Yuri returns to the kitchen. He picks up Caroline's abandoned bowl and spoon, rinses them, and puts them in the dishwasher. Typically he would've asked her to do that herself, but today is an atypical day.

He puts on some classical music and then focuses on the business of making dinner. Carrot soup is one of his favourite dishes. Victor used to make it for him often when he was relearning how to eat, and once he'd graduated to doing meal preparation, he began making it on his own. Usually, they have it with garlic bread and a garden salad topped with diced chicken, but Victor hasn't had much of an appetite today and Yuri guesses he'd prefer to have his favourite comfort food, grilled cheese. Besides, grilled cheese sandwiches are a lot less effort.

He prepares the soup first. While it's simmering in the slow cooker and filling the kitchen with the warm aroma of ginger, he gets to work on the grilled cheese. He decides he'll have peanut butter toast to go with his soup, since he doesn't like cheese, but he can get that ready after he finishes with the sandwiches for Victor and Caroline.

Soon enough, he's making his way up the stairs with a tray laden with two golden grilled sandwiches and two mugs of steaming green tea with honey. He passes Caroline's room and is nearly at the half-opened door of Victor's when he catches the thread of a conversation.

"...and I don't think he realizes it, but he's a totally amazing parent."

Victor's voice is hoarse, but he sounds much more awake and alert than he did earlier. "I think so too."

Yuri pauses outside the door and tries to peek into the room without being noticed. Victor is lying diagonally across his bed, and Caroline is sitting cross-legged beside him, holding his hand. Caroline is facing away from the door, and he thinks she's likely blocking Victor's view of the hallway.

"I was so mad, but Yuri knew exactly what to say," Caroline continues. "Like, he understood the problem right away and he told me what I should do, and it actually made a lot of sense."

"You shouldn't be shocked," says Victor. "You know, he's very smart and his advice is just as valid as mine. Maybe more so, depending on the subject. There's stuff he can do a lot better than I can."

"Well, he's really good at explaining stuff, and he knows how to get me to see things from a different perspective." Caroline says. "He helped me a lot with what happened today."

Yuri can hear Victor's smile in his voice. "You should tell him that. Sometimes he still worries about whether or not he's doing a good job."

There's no hesitation in Caroline's reply. "He's always done a good job. You're my favourite, but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate him or that he's not good at being a dad. He's awesome and I love him just as much as I love you."

"I'm glad," Victor says. "You know, it'd make his day to hear that."

"I'll tell him," Caroline says.

For a moment Yuri stays in place, trying to take in what he's just overheard. Then, not wanting to give away the fact that he was eavesdropping, he backs carefully down the hall and approaches the door again, deliberately making a bit of noise this time.

He halts in the doorway of Victor's room with a cheerful, "Dinner is served!"

It sounds a bit too upbeat to his ears, but Caroline doesn't seem to notice. Victor does, though. He catches Yuri's eye, smiles and mouths, "Nice one." Yuri wonders whether Victor was able to see him in the hallway after all.

Caroline bounces off the bed and comes over to inspect the tray. "This smells so good!"

"The soup is ready too, if you want some of that."

"Yes, please," Caroline says as she lifts one of the plates. "I'm going to take this to the kitchen and have some soup too, and then I'm going to FaceTime with Felicity because I promised her I'd help her with our math homework."

"Isn't Felicity's mother a financial analyst or something?" Victor asks.

"Yeah, but Felicity says she doesn't know how to make math simple," Caroline explains. "She'd rather get help from somebody who can tell her how to do it step by step, so... Captain Math to the rescue."

"All right, Captain Math," Yuri says. "Enjoy your dinner and your study session."

As Caroline exits the room, Yuri sets the tray with the remaining sandwich and the two cups of tea on the bedside table. Victor sits up, and remarks, "That does look good. I wish I could smell it."

"Hopefully you'll be able to taste it," Yuri says.

"We're about to find out." He picks up half the sandwich and bites into it. With his mouth full, he continues, "So, I guess you heard Caroline singing your praises?"

Yuri looks away. His face is suddenly hot, and he says, "Sorry. I wasn't intentionally spying on the two of you."

"I know," Victor says. He pats the space next to him. "Come here and let me tell you why Caroline is right."

Yuri obligingly climbs onto the bed and then reaches across Victor to get one of the mugs of tea before finally settling against Victor's side. "You think she's right?"

Victor slides an arm around his shoulders. "Why wouldn't I? You are totally amazing as a partner and a parent, and Caroline is right about you having a talent for getting people to see things in new ways. I knew that about you before we ever had Caroline, but how you're able to break stuff down in a way that she understands? That's a real skill, and you know what else?"

"What else?"

"You passed it on to her."

"At least I passed something along to her."

"What are you talking about? You've given her a lot. Whether or not you realize it, she's like you in a lot of ways. She's strong and determined like you, and she's practical and logical and great at reading people. Plus, she has your sense of humour."

"That... that's not exactly something to be proud of."

"Sure it is," Victor says. "You can make me laugh, and sometimes that's worth more than all the wealth in the universe."

"Did I really give all that to Caroline?" Yuri asks.

"Yeah, you did. That, and a lot more. You can ask her if you want to. I'm pretty sure she wants to tell you."

"I'm not sure I'd be comfortable asking."

"That's okay," Victor says. "I think she'll tell you on her own, when she finds the right moment."

Yuri closes his eyes and leans into the warmth of his husband's one-armed embrace. "I never thought we'd reach this point," he says. "Caroline and me, I mean."

"I knew you would," Victor says.

"That's because you're an eternal optimist."

Victor kisses the top of his head. "It's easy to be optimistic when I have such a great family. You and Caroline make me happy and you help me keep my faith in humanity. How could I think the future's gonna be anything but good with the two of you around?"

Yuri contemplates this for a moment, and feels his features gradually relax into a smile. They may have had a rough beginning, but everything is better now, and he has to acknowledge Victor is right. Their lives may not be perfect and they may have difficult times ahead, but that doesn't mean the future won't be good. His family loves him and he loves them. No matter what happens, with the three of them all supporting each other, they can make the best of it.

#sapphire writes #not a YOI fanfic #not fanfic at all actually #yuri okamoto #victor nelson #caroline okamoto nelson #writing #long form fiction #stargazersims

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