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t-a-a-1 · 1 day ago

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Counting Stars

Pt.2: The Wait

TFP Optimus x Female Reader

Summary: After revealing to Optimus that you are carrying his sparkling, he convinces you to stay under the Autobot care. However, after the sudden appearance of an old lover of yours, Optimus faces difficult challenges as he tries to win you back and learn how to prepare to be a father at the same time.

A/N: Lots of yearning, jealousy, delusions, craving, fluff. All that good stuff.

Counting Stars

Pt.2: The Wait

There is a clear difference between carrying a sparkling and dying.

You weren’t sure which one you were doing.

Everyone was treating you like you were about to perish. Everyone has always been careful around you. But now they are extremely aware of you. Every step you take, breath, look, smell, nothing was too insignificant.

“You shouldn’t be carrying that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t eat that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t go there.”

The autobots treated you like a doll. Although the thought sounds amusing, it really wasn’t.

“I just want to go for a drive. I’ve been inside for two weeks. I need to get out.”

Bulkhead moves his helm from side to side. He was the third bot you asked about going out.

“What if we crash and you get hurt?”

You knew he was making up an excuse to not take you for a drive. Because what kind of Autobot would be such a bad driver?

“I am a human! I need the sun and see pretty things or I’ll get depressed and die!”

“Can you just watch the sun and pretty things on TV?”

Crossing your hands in front of your chest, you huff, showing your clear satisfaction.

“I am sorry (Y/N) but you are carrying the only sparkling Cybertron has seen since millennials. If you weren’t having our species’s only hope, I would be more lenient.”

Bulkhead’s voice sounds apologetic. You know that he was telling the truth. Maybe they all missed hanging out with you but couldn’t do much due to current circumstances.

“I am being serious. I need to go out.” you say looking at the bot. “I’ll seriously die.”

You were exaggerating but you didn’t know until how much you could last without going crazy.

“Well, maybe we can wait until Optimus is back and hear what he thinks.” Arcee steps in, trying to see if she could alleviate the situation. “You know, so no one wants to get in trouble.”

“Prime isn’t even around.”

A simple talk couldn’t fix everything. Although you and Optimus were in speaking terms, you wouldn’t say that things were the way they used to be. Things were still awkward and tense between the two of you.

“You need to understand him, he is also going through biological needs not seen eons ago,” Ratchet speaks up while still typing on his large computer. “He is nesting for you and the sparkling, he can’t control it and he is trusting us to keep you safe while he is away.”

“Oh so you care about his biological needs but not about mine? I see how it is.”

“It’s not that, it's just–”

Ratchet turns to look at you.

“Alright, maybe you are right.”

The medic-bot notices the color of your skin. It’s pale. Not in a natural way but in a sick-manner. Your belly has grown and you look tired. Mentally, you must be going through a lot. The weight of the survival of an entire civilization is on your shoulders and you are yet to know if the sparkling will be born healthy.

“Only for 30 minutes.”

Optimus was able to satisfy his biological needs only after he found ten dandelions. It was extremely hard to bring them to base since they were delicate and were easy for its tiny petals to crumble. He had found several but would have to go back and look for more since most would lose their petals on the way.

He also found some pretty rocks. He wasn’t sure which one you would like most so he brought all of them.

“So you are here to stay with (Y/N) for the rest of the pregnancy?”

His olfactory sensors picked a familiar smell. A human one but it was none of the kids. It was a scent he wasn’t fond of. One he very much wished did not exist.

“Yes, as a Special Agent, I was assigned this duty. Which I am glad for, I want to spend time with (Y/N) as much as possible.”

Special Agent Alex. Fowler’s Co-worker and your childhood best friend.

Optimus’ sensors were on alert. All of his instincts warned him.

“Potential male threat detected. Human male may potentially steal sparkling and partner. Action Required: Keep human male away from mate.”

“May I inquire about your reasoning behind your sudden … presence without invitation?”

He didn’t waste any time as he walked towards the center of the hangar. His tall demeanor did not seem to phase the secret agent.

“Hey, Prime! Sorry for not announcing it before,” Alex waved knowing that he would get more of a reaction out of Optimus if he pretended that his hostility does not affect him. “But I am just doing my duty. (Y/N) was originally supposed to be transported to a secured area under my watch. But since that didn’t happen, I’ll be staying here.”

“(Y/N) is currently protected by five Autobots at all times. She’s safe here and does not need your guarding.”

“That may be right but (Y/N)’s child is a matter of national security. I can’t let the Autobots have complete control over humanity’s first human-alien hybrid child.”

Optimus closes his servo, fighting the urge to smash the human like a mosquito.

“My sparkling is no human experiment.”

“I am not saying it was,” Alex looks directly at Optimus’ optics. Unafraid. “What I am saying is that the child would benefit from having all the resources this world can offer. That child, no matter what it may be or look like, would be more human than Cybertronian. It will grow here. Learn our languages, history, traditions and culture.”

Alex smirks, about to deliver the final hit.

“It’s not like there’s much to learn from Cybertron after all,” he says. “I may raise that child myself.”

Everyone could hear Optimus’ gun engine turn on, about to point directly at the agent.

Until you showed up.

“Alex?”

He immediately put away his weapon, pretending that he wasn’t about to harm a certain individual. He couldn’t do it, not after seeing the smile on your face.

Not after you jumped into his arms, hugging him as he spinned you around.

“Alert. Action Required: Eliminate threat. Keep human male away from mate. Alert.”

His processor telling him commands wasn’t helping the feelings in his spark.

“You have always been beautiful but pregnancy suits you so well. It’s going to make my stay here all the more pleasant.”

Alex has always been a flirt. But you never took it seriously. At least not now. You used to love the compliments during the time of your relationship. Years ago.

“Are you staying here?”

You ask excitedly, in a desperate need of a friend your age. A human friend who would understand your need to get coffee and see the sunsets.

“Yes, you won’t have to be lonely anymore,” Alex puts a hand on your head, giving you a soft head pat. An act Optimus was never able to do casually. Putting hands on you without consent in any way did not fit right with him. “I’ll stay as long as you have me.”

“Yes! You can stay in my room!”

You seem to enjoy the affection. The agent gave you a certain warmness Optimus couldn’t give you and his processor is starting to write codes unfamiliar to him.

“I am highly against that–”

“Alright, I’ll put my things in there,” Alex’s voice was louder than Optimus’ as he was closer to you. You were too excited to pay attention to the rising anger of the bot. “But tell me, where were you? I was waiting for you and got kinda worried.”

“I’ve been inside here for two weeks and Ratchet took me for a quick drive.”

“For two weeks? That’s not healthy for you and the baby, you need to stay active and get enough sunlight.”

“That’s what I told them but they wouldn’t listen to me.”

Everyone around you noticed your evident happiness that they didn’t mind the comment. You were right, they weren’t taking your needs into consideration. It was even more evident by the sudden change of your mood.

“Well, from now on I’ll be taking care of you,” Alex moves his hand to caress your cheek. “And I’ll take you on regular drives and trips.”

“Do not touch my sparkmate–”

“Also I brought you a gift!”

He looks down at his backpack as Optimus’ voice subsides. Opening it quickly and showing the content inside it.

“My favorite chocolate!” you take the pink box from his hands. It was an expensive brand and hard to find. Not available anywhere in the city. “Thank you!

Optimus quickly thinks of the things he got you. Dandelions, flowers, rocks. Would you love them just as much? Will you jump in excitement and hug him? Will you see him as fit enough to be your provider, protector and Sparkmate?

“Analysis Complete: Human Male wishes to bond with Sparkmate and steal Sparkling. Activating Sparkmate Protection Codes. Eliminate offering. Keep Sparkmate secluded.”

It’s like he couldn’t control himself. It was fear, confusion and jealousy that overtook his processor.

Without any announcement, Optimus walks towards you and takes the chocolate box using two of his digits. You watch him with amusement, not understanding his actions. And without any previous warning, he crushes the box.

The Autobots don’t say a word, flabbergasted at their leader’s actions.

“I- I am–”

Optimus wanted to apologize but he was so surprised by his own doing that no words left his dermas.

The room is silent for a few seconds until sobbing is heard coming from you. Normally, you wouldn’t cry but your hormones have been acting differently, making you more emotionally sensitive.

You run to your room, Alex quickly follows by until the two of you disappear from the hangar.

“Sparkmate in distress. Advance with caution. In case of Sparkmate rejection, proceed to program Offline codes.”

Optimus looks at his servo. The pink chocolate box is destroyed. It was a nice gift. Delicate, gentle, genuine. And he destroyed it. All that was left was the result of his own selfish actions.

He didn’t know how to approach you. Nor knew if he should. His processor was begging him to go talk to you.

His pedes hang from the cliff as he sees the stars in the sky. Its a view Cybertron was unknown to. His home planet, with all of its technological advances, unique traditions and indescribable views could never have this kind of beauty. Yet, it can’t compare to the delicacy of your eyes.

Hearing heavy steps walking towards him, he knows it wasn’t you. Most of the time, he couldn’t tell when you were approaching him, your steps were too small to be heard. Either that or he would smell your scent.

“You know, the right thing to do is apologize, right?”

Arcee was not one to open up easily. That was something she had in common with Optimus.

“It would be simple if I knew she would want me to,” he responds, seeing the motorcycle sit next to him.

“... Are all male bots this stupid?”

“I believe so.”

There was silence but it wasn’t awkward. They didn’t need to talk to understand each other. Optimus is a great leader but somewhat stupid when it comes to relationships. It is of no surprise, however. Cybertronian and Human relationships are very different. Cybertron culture is more reserved, sometimes even completely political. As a species living for so long, it’s more about companionship. A long lasting friendship. Finding a Sparkmate was completely rare. Something not everyone would get to experience.

Humans however … Due to their short lifespan, they were more prone to fall in love and out of love rather fast.

“My processor has been programmed to do things I deemed as primitive for our kind,” he says. “Sometimes I can’t control it.”

“Then just tell her that,” Arceee puts a servo on his shoulder. Physical contact wasn’t common in Cybertron either. But he didn’t mind. “And apologize … a lot.”

You started to overthink. A lot.

Optimus had feelings for you. Of that you were almost certain. You think ‘almost’ because now you weren’t so sure.

Optimus would live for many years after you are gone. Maybe one day he will finally find the one, his Sparkmate. Where would that leave your child? He has told you that he will be responsible. But is he doing it out of duty or because he has love for his sparkling? You didn’t want him to believe that he is being forced to stay.

It was a stupid thought. You knew that. But the thought still lingers in the back of your mind.

“Prime is gonna kill me whenever he finds out I took you out of the base.”

It's always nice to get out of the base during the night. Especially with someone who saw you as an individual instead of just a ‘carrier and savior of an advanced robot race.’ He also drives nicely, not too fast, not too slow. Alex used to be a mechanic, his love for cars was always evident. Even as he drives, you can tell that this is all he ever wanted to do.

“You know he won’t even kill a fly.”

“Yeah and that’s why it’s so fun to tease him.”

Alex tried to diminish the tension of the previous situation. He didn’t know why Optimus did what he did. But he feels a bit guilty for teasing Optimus as much. Maybe if he hadn't pushed him to his limits, he wouldn't have done such ugly act.

“Can we go to the beach?”

You ask randomly.

Alex smiles.

“Sure.”

When Ratchet informed him that you had gone on a night drive with Alex, he immediately went to your room.

Why?

It was something even he couldn’t understand.

He knew he wasn’t going to find you there.

Yet, his processor couldn’t understand how you weren’t here. He needs you. Now. His every circuit aching at the thought of you leaving his side. Carrying his sparkling and with a male who had successfully stolen you from his servos even if it's just for one night.

He can still smell your scent in your room. Even after he had mass-shifted to enter, the room was still too small for him. He touched the bedsheets and began to miss the moments he has shared with you before in it.

Where are you?

He needs you now. He needs to hold you, to know that you are safe. To express how much he adores you and the sparkling.

“Sparkmate Status: Missing. Sparkling Status: Missing. Safety Status: Unknown. If Unable To Locate, Proceed With Solitude Activation Codes.”

He used his Comm-Link to call your cell phone. But nothing. He tried again. Nothing.

It wasn’t until the 30th time that he understood … You didn’t want to be with him.

You didn’t want him.

His servos tremble.

Optics feel heavy. It’s strange. Having blue liquid come out of his eyes. He had cried before. For different reasons. This was pain, in its purest form. In a way words can’t describe. Proof of it were his subsided pleas of air as he had forgotten how to breathe, something he didn’t know he could do until he saw you.

His spark aches. It hurts. Everything.

Everything … His everything is gone.

It was about a 10 hour drive.

Watching the sunrise was always a beautiful experience. Feeling the warm sunlight touch your skin energizes you. It made you forget the previous negative emotions and you began to have this strange yearning.

For Optimus.

You wanted to be with him. Wishing he could be here with you along with your unborn child.

Maybe he had over reacted but knowing Optimus he probably has a good reason for destroying the chocolate box. Was he taking care of your weight? What if chocolate is toxic for sparklings? You wanted to talk to him and make things better–

Oh.

You were right. You do need the sun.

“Let’s build a sandcastle.”

Alex could sometimes be like a child, which was fun. There was never a boring moment with him.

“Let’s build an Autobot, instead!”

You let yourself touch the sand and immediately feel something moving inside you. It feels strange. It doesn’t hurt but feels very uncanny. Nonetheless, you smile as you put your hands in your belly. Your sparkling may be more human than you think, also enjoying the activity and fresh air.

“Do you think will look like his father?”

You ask Alex as he tries to make a small square with his hands, using water from a water bottle.

He looks at you and then down at his little project.

“If the child were to live on Cybertron then I would prefer for them to look like Optimus,” he says, trying to think of a delicate way to tell you his opinion. “But since they will be living on Earth, then I genuinely hope they look more human.”

You know you will love the child no matter what. But Alex had a point. What kind of life will the child live if he is too different? Humans can be cruel, especially to those who are different.

“If something happens to me … will you take care of them?”

He lets out a heavy sigh and looks at you again. His mood had been ruined but it was a question you were meaning to ask.

“You know childbirth is difficult as it is and well, I am assuming giving birth to the first Human-Cybertronian child would be even more so.”

“You know we’ll have the best doctors in the world for that day,” Alex starts to mold more rectangular boxes as he stacks them up. Meanwhile you have started working on the head. “And if anyone can come out alive out of that it's you.”

He makes a pause and a small laugh escapes from his lips.

“Besides, didn’t you fuck a 20 feet tall alien robot? You did that and came out fine. Childbirth should be a piece of cake.”

Without any notice, Alex’s mouth is filled with sand. You had thrown him a sand-ball and he started spitting it out and washing his mouth with the remaining water.

“Hey! It's true!”

“Yes but you didn’t have to say it like that!”

“I don’t blame you, if Arcee would give me the chance, I would hit too–”

You throw more sand at him and he also retaliates. A sandy-battle unleashed as the wind was in your favor. Alex was gentle enough to only attack you below or above your belly. His ‘projectiles’ are extremely small compared to yours and between giggles and laughs, the battle continues until both of your hairs and clothes are covered with sand.

And then, Alex’s phone begins to ring.

“Where is he?”

The sun is still rising. The groundbridge could not stop time. But the time in California and Nevada were the same.

You run towards Ratchet who is still by the groundbrige system, Alex close by.

“At the top, he is doing better now that I told him you were returning but …” The autobot medic pauses, not finding the right words to describe the situation. “I think you should go and see for yourself.”

You didn’t hesitate and made your way towards the rooftop. Of course, you didn’t run but you moved as fast as your pregnant body could.

It was a good workout, you were losing your breath as you made your way to the elevator. If you had been in better shape, you would have taken the stairs.

As you wait to arrive at the top, you could hear the beats of your heart palpitating against your chest. Overthinking is a talent of yours. Many stupid thoughts crossed your head. Thinking that Optimus was too angry at you for leaving the base without permission. You were ready to accept your punishment, whatever that may be.

Instead, as you arrive at the top of the cliff, there are more questions than answers.

You find big rocks, with a weight of more than a ton. Two rocks standing vertically and one on top of the two laying horizontally. Like a small house made out of giant rocks, enough space for a single Cybertronian. One that is around 20 feet tall, blue and red that turns into a truck.

Optimus is there but he is too busy spraying dandelions around his small house that he didn’t notice your presence.

It wasn’t until he turned around that his optics shine in excitement. He almost runs towards but reminds himself to be gentle. Reaching out a servo, you expected him to hold you but he doesn’t he pulls away, using all of his strength to restrain himself.

“I am glad to see you are safe.”

He says in a soft voice, the relief in his voice is evident and you feel the need to jump into his servos and be embraced by him. But just like him, you stopped yourself from doing so.

“I am glad you are safe too,” you tilted your body a little, your attention directed to the rocks behind. “Ratchet said you were acting … strange.”

Optimus also takes a look at his creation. He wished he could do better but its the best he could do with his limited resources.

“Yes, you could say so.”

“May I ask, what is going on?”

He has been meaning to tell you but he doesn't know without getting nervous. He didn’t know how you would react. Will you think of him as weird? Disgusting even? But he can’t run away any longer. You are the sword and he is against a dead end with the only option being moving forward.

“Cybertron hasn’t had a sparkling in milenia so to ensure its safety, my processor activated primal codes,” Optimus says. “It makes me do things that may be antiquated.”

Not understanding fully, but if you had to come to a conclusion, Optimus may be going through something similar to animal mating rituals. Which is not so far fetched since Cybertron used to have Predacons before Cybertronians appeared.

“Is that why you destroyed my chocolate box?”

“Due that we haven’t concluded the Conjunx Ritus, my processor doesn’t consider you as my Conjunx Endura yet, although I consider you my Sparkmate” Optimus blinks multiple times as he only does when he is nervous. “I identified Special Agent Alex’s actions as threatening to steal you and my sparkling.”

“Me?”

“Yes, although those reasons are more … intimate ones.”

Your heart beats faster as the sunlight reflects on his paint-job. He looks beautiful. You once again remember how incredible and extraordinary of an individual he is. There is no one like him in the entire universe and never will. You feel delighted to know that you are in his presence, being able to admire a side not one has seen yet.

“Oh,” you look away after realizing you had been staring at him for too long. “And that?”

You point at the rock structure and Optimus optics quickly follow.

“After you left, I went to look for you at your private quarters,” he kept looking at the rocks and you wonder the struggles he had to go through to carry them to the top. “Not seeing you there activated my Solitude Codes.”

He walks towards the rocks, there are a lot of dandelions. Some of them died. Others are alive. There is some sort of yearning in his optics as if he belongs there. Its a sorrowful yearning, as if he was made to do something that he wishes to not do. Yet, he knows he would be skillful at it.

“I felt the need to build this.”

“And do what?”

You ask, not wanting to walk closer as you thought that maybe you would be overstepping his boundaries.

“Wait,” he answers.

His back faces you. Not being able to see his faceplate, you can only tell how he feels based on his voice box’s tone. He just stands there, looking down.

“For what?”

“For you to come back.”

He answers so longingly that it makes you almost shed a tear. For a moment, time stops. There is no wind, no sound, no scent, nothing. But just him. As if your entire world had become just him.

“... And if I didn’t come back?”

He slowly turns to look at you. A soft smile, of love. There wasn’t any desire in it. It was pure. Genuine. As he is in love with your soul and wishes to spend eternity with the thought of you. With your existence, whatever that was. To be one until the heavens and the earth collide.

“I would wait until you do.”

And for a second, the Prime no longer was. But just a spark. In his purest form. His faceplates open, he wants to say something but it's lost in words. He had given up so easily. Realizing that he has yet to find the right words to express his love for you. A love so vast that not even the best poets or writers could ever put into paper.

If he could go back in time and stop himself from becoming a Prime, he would. Because being an archivist would have made him more eloquent, maybe then, he could describe to you a small fraction of his endless adoration.

“Prime–”

“Guys!” Alex came out of the elevator, screaming and ruining the moment. “Sorry to interrupt but we have a message coming from Megatron!”

He tilts his head outside the elevator, blue eyes staring at the two of you. Noticing that he interrupted a romantic scenario, he just pointed a finger at the two of you.

“Prime we need you, please make-out quickly!”

And with that, Alex leaves as soon as he appeared.

“Well, now that you are here, I won’t be using this,” Optimus walks towards you and bends down on one knee. He is still too tall but you appreciate that he tries to see you faceplate to face. Using a servo, he caresses your hair and your soft skin. With so much adoration and devotion.

“I don’t have much time but I realized I haven’t thank you yet for carrying my Sparkling.”

He wants to hold you. Craving it. He wishes he could have time to tell you more. To whisper in your ears sweet things. To read to you the most lovely of poems. To just rot in a bed, indulging in nothing but love.

But he can’t. Not now.

“Creating a new life with you has been the greatest honor of my life.”

He stands up, walks past you. Leaving you at a shock, at a state of awe.

“Now, let us go,” he says. “Some things can’t wait.”

He'll wait until you call him by his first name again.

A/N: It was fun to write this. Optimus panicking and not understanding the changes he is going through. I think on this he has accepted that he may not win you back but that won't stop him from loving you and his sparkling. Meanwhile you are falling for him all over again.

I wrote this because y'all liked the concept for Counting Stars and supported it a lot! So thank you everyone so much for the support.

This was a one shot and I continued it because there was lots of love but I don't have a certain story-line. To be honest I don't know how to continue it.

For the next chapter (if there is one) I was thinking that Megatron accidentally sends Reader to the Dark Dimension where Reader meets Nemesis Prime. In this dimension, Optimus loses Reader and his Sparkling, transforming him into an evil being.

Meanwhile in Reader's dimension, Optimus is losing it. Slowly spiraling into madness at the thought of never seeing Reader and his Sparkling again. Destroying everything on sight, the Autobots fight to keep Optimus at bay.

The plot would end with Optimus and Nemesis fighting to see who would keep Reader.

That storyline would take around 2-3 chapters and it would conclude this story.

But that is just a thought, I still don't if I'll continue this since I really need to focus on writing the next chapter for 'The Darkest Hour'

And I am currently working on a oneshot bayverse Optimus fic too so please look forward to it!

Again thank you for reading and sorry for any spelling and grammar mistakes.

See You in the next story!

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/771132293279580160/counting-stars?source=share

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victoryarchive · 2 days ago

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Ok. I’ll bite. Hermit! Tommy? Because that looks an awful lot like a really cool Watcher au something? Please share!

Omg if you insist lmao

Buckle up this is gonna be a lot.

This all started when I was thinking about Greek mythology (a common occurrence I fear) and I was thinking how even though Helios is the sun and the god of the sun many people these days assign that role to Apollo (the god of light). And that got me thinking more and more about how as time progresses stories change and gods become gods of things they never were before. New gods exist. Old ones are completely forgotten. Their names change. Look at Roman mythology for a great example of this.

And because I’m one hell of a nerd this immediately translated to ‘how can I use this in fan fiction’

Another thing you must know about me is I hate to fall back on Minecraft mechanics, it feels lazy for me to do it (it’s fine to read I just hate writing it) and must always find a way to make things like respawn and different worlds fit into the lore of the story.

Thus began the world building:

Every watcher is a god of something, Xelqua/Grian: the sun, Pearl: the moon, Kristin: The underworld, XD: [redacted], etc. Each watcher has the ability to create a world (or multiple depending on their power) for their people to live (Grian: hermitcraft, Pearl: Empires, Kristin: the Antarctic Empire, XD: the DSMP, etc) Within these worlds it is very common practice for the Watchers to choose a devoted follower to give a small portion of their power to oversee their world, to make rules and keep everyone safe, an Admin. (Grian: Xisuma, Pearl: fWhip, Kristin: Philza, XD: Dream, etc.)

Now none of these watchers just spawned as watchers, no they became watchers through people worshipping them and writing stories about them as gods. These stories held power so the person held power and became essentially immortal and can do pretty much anything with that power, at least until they are forgotten.

So far the story begins with Xelqua brining his players back from their silly death game and being intercepted by a very very old goddess, one who had almost been completely forgotten. This primordial goddess is peace, not just the goddess of peace, she is peace. She is called Prime. She asks Grian and Xisuma to take her last worshipper and devotee, Tommy, and protect him from another Watcher. And with a little bit of convincing Grian’s like ‘yeah fine ig I’ll take the kid. How difficult can one child be.’

Now that’s as far as I’ve written aside from the beginning backstory stuff, but I’ve got a lot of stuff planned, including an entire few chapters inspired by ‘god games’ from epic the musical, where Grian has to go fight for some mortals life. One of them. I know which one. Yall don’t :)

There’s also a lot of Grian and Pearl back story from when they were kids and still mortal like thousands and thousands of years ago and how they eventually became literal gods.

Tommy learns how friends are supposed to work and gets mentored by none other than Mumbo Jumbo, or Impulse i haven’t decided yet. The only thing I know about Minecraft is redstone so he’s learning redstone.

Also it would be a damn shame for me to not include False and Tommy flying together a bunch bc they’re the only to avians that can match each others speed.

There’s some stuff going on with techno being an admin on an anarchy server. He comes in later in an absolute rage.

Also Joel is a demigod… it makes sense I swear.

I’m having a lot of fun playing around with the world building and each individual characters back story so I will expand on anything if people ask about it :))))

Thank you for asking this has been fun

#tommyinnit #hermitblr #hermitcraft #fan fiction #fan fic writing #victory yap session #mumbo jumbo #grian

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bitching-and-witching · 23 hours ago

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Thank you @perpetualsarcasmmachine,I can’t believe someone wants to know more about me!

🎧Last song🎧: Work Song by Hozier, it’s the song I walked down the aisle to at my wedding and I play it whenever I’m having a bad day

🎨Favorite color🎨: ooh this rotates, but right now I’d say a nice moody emerald green

📚last book📚: The Burning God by RF Kuang, I’m super behind on reading this but people kept saying it was super emotionally devastating so I kept putting it off (they were right), but it was great. It really talked about war and the devastation that brings in a much more nuanced way that a lot of popular fantasy misses, it was refreshing to read something that wasn’t just a simple good vs bad. It makes you really think about your own morals. Again, I know I’m super late on this but I stopped reading for a few years due to being chronically ill and depressed and I’m picking up old hobbies that brought me joy again.

🍿Last movie🍿: The Wild Robot, it was a masterpiece. It was beautiful, and the score was perfect. I was surprised at how many references to death in a children’s movie but it was all done really well. Definitely cried at least once

📺 Last tv show 📺: Taskmaster UK, I have watched like 8 seasons of Taskmaster in the last like 2 weeks. I need comedy to keep me sane rn

🍔 sweet/spicy/savory 🍔: oof probably sweet if I had to choose just one, I love baking and I’m known for my chocolate chip cookies. I do love savory stuff as well obviously, but it’s a no on spicy stuff since I have some stomach issues.

🌀Current obsession🌀: researching Slovakian dual citizenship, I found out recently that I’m eligible for dual citizenship through my ancestry. So Ive been obsessed with finding out all the details on what I’d need to prove my ancestry and the whole process.

🔍 Last thing searched 🔍: orange chocolate chip muffin recipe, I was going to make some this afternoon but I’ve ended up in a flare up and I’m likely going to be in bed the rest of the day

👀looking forward to👀: starting The Will of the Many by James Islington, I bought it recently but I haven’t started it yet and it’s sitting on my shelf tempting me

People I'd like to know better:

@imjustanotherbozoonthebus, @aliyamustafeena, @technicallybeautifulfest, @shieldsbucky, @joemophobic, @king-spite, @hollywood-is-plastic, @dreamer-in-time-26, @my-dark-happy-place, @djmixedtape, @evianyx

(If you don’t want to do it, I totally get it) and im sorry if I missed any mutuals, but please feel free to join in (and kill me for wronging you)

// 10 People I'd like to know better //

I got tagged by @kbthebearcat and @captain-clandestiny THANK YOU GUYS

🎧Last song🎧: I am not sure to be honest 😭 i was listening a mixed playlist on shuffle but i last remember listening to return to forever and when i fall in love

🎨Favorite color🎨: THE ONE AS MY BLOG BACKGROUND i am obsessed 💔 AND A WARMER TONE OF MUSTARD YELLOW tbh all the natural colors really 🤭

📚last book📚: I am not much of a reader, but i read "Ağrı Dağı Efsanesi" as homework. (Browsed the recap but sshhh)

🍿Last movie🍿: Ugh i am so embarrassed but Sonic 3. MY FRIENDS FORCED ME OKAY?!. Like you can't expect someone who likes "The Game", "Silence of the lambs", "there will be blood", "Jane Eyre" etc to like such a movie- i am REALLY picky about what i watch. But yeah it was Sonic 3 I'm sorry 💀

📺 Last tv show 📺: It was "Baby Raindeer" i guess... It was alright.

🍔 sweet/spicy/savory 🍔: Savory 😌

🌀Current obsession🌀: ASSASSIN'S CREED ASSASSIN'S CREED ASSASSIN'S CREED ASSASSIN'S CREED ASSASSIN'S CREED

Finished the ezio trilogy and now playing unity and black flag. Torturing myself by replaying missions (in unity) over and over until i perfectly ghost them. People hate that game for some reason but i like it a lot tbh

🔍 Last thing searched 🔍:

I was answering the ask then i called Hargrove "passed away recently". i was sure it was not as "recently" so i searched to find out. 2018 was the date. He was such a nice trumpeter. I found about him after coming up with Roy and now one of his songs i think is roy if he was a song. Here's the song for those wondering !

👀looking forward to👀: nothing specific. But i am curious about the gt of that upcoming fable game. Probably can't afford it and don't have the hardware to run it so I'll watch the gameplays 💀

People I'd like to know better:

@justagiantpotato @pipinpali @pacthesis @ohnobrooo @paxmorgana @guaxinimraccoon @olivexing @territorialrain

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911coded · 2 days ago

Text

Maddie and Eddie get poked a bit for all their “help” since the break up, but some good conversations are had. 🥹

Chapter 4: Ready To Lose

Buck knocks on Eddie’s door the next morning with a hangover and one last tin of christmas cookies. When Eddie comes to the door and sees the tin in his hand, his face falls.

“Aw, man, I can’t eat any more sweets!” Eddie whines. Buck chuckles as he brushes past him.

“Last batch, I promise, I’m just finishing up the last of my baking ingredients. I’m trying to clean out my kitchen and I need to talk to you about something,” Buck explains. Despite his whining, Eddie takes the tin from Buck's hand and stuffs a cookie in his mouth and motions for the kitchen.

“What’s up? You don’t look great,” Eddie said. Buck rolls his eyes and takes a seat at the kitchen table.

“Yeah, I got wine drunk with Karen yesterday afternoon which turned into evening as we talked through some decisions I needed to make,” Buck revealed.

“I hope you know you could have come to me, Buck. Just because I’m moving back to Texas doesn't mean we can’t talk, man, it just means it will be over facetime or text,” Eddie insisted.

“I know that, we’re good Eddie, I promise. I just needed to talk to someone who didn’t have a personal interest in my decisions and experience working for a classified program,” Buck explained.

Eddie chokes on the latest cookie, “Class-w-what?” Eddie asked, getting up to wipe his face with a napkin.

“Yeah, so I contacted an old friend when I found out Tommy had run away to Antarctica. He’s a civilian contractor with the air force and when I met him, he was stationed out of McMurdo, which is,” Buck said, waving a hand in the air.

“Where Tommy is, yeah. So, you are finally ready to chase him?” Eddie asked. Buck gave him a side eye with a huff and crossed his arms over his chest. “Come on, now, I apologized for the phone keep away thing!” Eddie exclaimed with a finger poke to Buck’s chest. Buck swatted his hand away and leaned forward, resting his chin on a fist.

“Anyway, this friend I mentioned talked to some of his coworkers and the next thing I know I’m getting a job offer and a retired general is traveling to the other side of the world to talk to Tommy about a job possibility, too,” Buck said.

“Jesus, Buck, who is your friend?”

“A botanist.”

“What the fuck?” Eddie swatted at the air with a hand. “Never mind. Classified. Right. Are you sure about this, Buck?”

“Yeah, I think it’s important and I know enough to be cautiously optimistic that this could be really great. I want more for my career and with you leaving, the station will lose heavy rescue status until you come back or they replace you. Either way, I would probably need to move on. When Bobby retires, Hen or Chim will be in place to take over and I’m not sure that captain is what I want next anyway. Maddie is settled with Chim and we don’t need each other for support the same way we did before. Worst case, one or both of us joins the program for 6 months to a year and then we come back to Los Angeles….” Buck trailed off.

“Or best case it’s an amazing opportunity and the two of you are wildly happy on some classified base doing big damn hero things and get married and adopt a couple of adorable babies,” Eddie finished with a shit-eating grin and a waggle of eyebrows.

***********************************

[email protected]

To: [email protected]

Dave,

You are nuts but I’m in. I put in for a leave of absence with the LAFD for 6 months. I can make a commitment with your program right now without any other information for that much time. I trust you, but without knowing what I’ll be doing, I don’t want to cut off the possibility of coming back to LA.

I’m renting out my loft to another firefighter for at least the next six months and already packed up my personal stuff to go into storage with my jeep. I’ve said all my goodbyes and I’ve contracted with a rental agency to manage everything for me, so I’m pretty much set. I just need to know what to bring with me, or what is safe to bring, and I can be in Colorado Springs on Monday.

Was it Jack that met with Tommy? How did it go? I’ve been trying not to think about it but I’m worried about Tommy. Is he ok? He’s very good at the stoic military man schtick, but he’s gotta be freaking out if General Jack gave him any information. (Do you think he hates me for bringing him to the attention of your generals? I’m trying to stay positive but you know more than anybody what I’m like.) I can’t think anymore, I’m booking the tickets and I’ll send you another message later today with my flight information. Should I expect a pick up/escort or do I make my way there myself?

Later,

Buck

**************************************************************

Buck was stacking boxes in the corner of the kitchen and trying to decide whether he should leave his towels or take them with him (they were really nice, really fluffy towels) when someone knocked on his door.

He opened it to find Maddie standing there impatiently.

“Uh, come in? I thought I was coming to dinner tonight. Did I forget something we had planned?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Maddie bustled around Buck and took in the stack of boxes.

“What’s going on, are you moving?” Maddie asked.

Buck walked around Maddie and went back to closing up the last box, “Not exactly. I was going to tell you tonight that I put in for a leave of absence for some training in Antarctica right after New Years. I leave Monday.”

“Wait. You are going where?!!” Maddie exclaimed and twisted her hands together.

Buck sighed, already done with this conversation. “I’m taking a leave of absence from the LAFD and going to Antarctica. I am going to be an on-call firefighter and help with SAR at the Air Force base down there for a few months. I’ll be back in plenty of time for my newest nibling to be born. This is why I wanted to have this conversation over dinner where we could all stay calm and I could explain properly.”

“That-that’s not the point. I thought you were going to let the universe bring you someone special,” Maddie said, searching for a way to turn the conversation around.

“No, Maddie, that’s what you said, but I didn’t agree. I had already found my someone special. We just need to sit down and talk out how to work around our insecurities. I have a plan,” Buck stated calmly.

“And it includes going to Antarctica?” Maddie asked.

“Well, that’s where Tommy is at the moment.”

Maddie scoffed, crossing her arms, “So, you’re what, moving halfway around the world for a boy?!”

Buck tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at his sister in disbelief.

“Maddie, I’m not asking you what to do here, I’m letting you know what I have decided,” Buck insisted. Ok, this is what we are doing now. Awesome. “Look, I’m sorry that going to you every time I’m confused about things gave you the impression that I need you to tell me what to do before I make a move in my life. I do that because I want you to be part of my life. We lived apart for more than ten years before you came to LA. And I grew into an adult in that time. Sure, I made the sort of decisions that late teens, early twenties men make sometimes, but I made a life for myself without you. I just didn’t want it that way. I like talking out my problems with you, I just don’t like that it gives others the idea that I can’t make decisions without help from someone else. My brain works on a problem best by talking it out, I just happen to like talking it out with you. If I needed advice on how to deal with a relationship runner, I’d talk to Chimney.” Maddie gasps and sits down at the dining table, looking stricken.

Buck winced and attempted to redirect. “I’m not blaming you for it, we are past that. It’s just the different ways we deal with anxiety. And I know you are working on it in therapy, I can see how well you and Chim are doing, but can you honestly say that every bump in the road doesn’t send your brain for a millisecond into run mode?” He asked and reached across the table for Maddie’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

Maddie slumped down to rest her head on her arm on the table and sighed, “No, I can’t. So what do you need my help with?”

Buck smiled softly at his sister, “I just need your support. I’m trying something new with my life. This may grow into an amazing opportunity for my professional life as well as a way to get my personal life back on track. I made friends in all those years of wandering around, taking odd jobs and learning new things. I have contacts that I can call for information or advice. It wasn’t all partying and sex, you know.” Maddie turned her head to face Buck with a skeptical look on her face and a badly hidden smirk.

Buck huffed and rolled his eyes, “Well, ok, there was plenty of partying and sex but wait, so, I worked as a bartender in Virginia Beach, got my mixology certification. Uh, I worked construction in NOLA, learned a ton about remodelling old houses. Then, there was Montana, where I worked as a ranch hand, learned about horses and how to lasso a calf, but I also trained to do SAR work in the mountains. I went to Coronado and did the SEAL trails where I learned how hard I could push my body and how to handle a weapon. That didn’t work out, I didn’t have the right mindset for that kind of life, so I headed south and ended up in Peru bartending again, while also volunteering for SAR work. After about a year, I followed some guys that were going to share a house here in LA. I had seen a movie about firefighters one weekend and decided that firefighting could be what I was looking for, so I decided to join the academy. That’s the highlights, anyway,” Buck finished his speech with a wave of his hand and a shrug.

“Why didn’t you tell me about any of this before?” Maddie asked, sitting up to give him her full attention.

“No one asked.” Buck shrugged, “I know we talk, but when you first got here, I was afraid to say anything to upset you so you wouldn’t leave again and you needed me to need you. Then after a while….” Buck trailed off.

“No one asked,” they finished together.

Maddie sighed, “Here’s something I can give you.” She visually braced herself, “He’s going to have a hundred reasons why he did the right thing. Reasons why he’s not right for you. That you deserve better. He’ll sound completely reasonable, logical even. But, he’s not afraid that he’s not good enough. He’s afraid that someday you will realize that you can do better. And that you’ll want to. That you will think he’s not good enough. So, he convinces himself that this way is better. But, he was already too far in at the first sign of cracks on the surface. You get to be happy. He doesn’t deserve it, but you do. And that’s all that matters in the end.”

“Fuck,” Buck rasped.

Maddie pushed on, voice strained, “You have to convince him that you are aware of the risks. That you know what you are getting into. That you know very well about his flaws and various neuroses. But, you want to put in the work. That you are going to put in the work. That your future doesn’t work without him in it, so he’s just gonna have to deal with that. But, if that all fails, promise me little brother, if he can’t love you back, if he’s too far gone to come back, don’t bury yourself with him. You know him better than I do, better than Howie and Hen. You’ll know if putting in the work will get you what you want.”

Buck stared at his sister, wide-eyed, “Wow. Therapy is really working for you.” Maddie huffed a laugh and wiped tears from under her eyes. “Thanks,” Buck said sincerely.

Maddie giggled softly, “For what? Spewing my therapy notes all over you?”

“No,” Buck said. “For giving me advice on how to love a runner.” They both sniffed back tears and stood to hug it out. “Wait. Why did you come over, anyway?” Buck asked.

Maddie laughed a little manically, “I’m craving. I really need one of your lemon loaves.”

*******************************************

[email protected]

To: [email protected]

Buck,

The good news is that your Tommy seems to be pretty cool under pressure. The bad news is that the pressure was Jack. 😬I should have insisted that John go. In fact, when Jack came back to the mountain with Daniel still yelling at him, I asked John to go make the actual job offer. Let the flyboys bond over the quiet of Antarctica in a helicopter. I’m afraid that Jack jumped ahead with some of the classified stuff, so hold off on contacting him just yet. You’ll get your chance soon, I promise. Daniel did say that Tommy was worried about how Jack knew of you, and I can see from your last message that you’re worried about him, too. I think he and John will have a good talk.

On to the fun stuff! Clothes wise, bring an assortment of casual clothes for all types of weather, BDU’s will be provided for anything on duty. The base is on the ocean, so anything you need for recreation on the water, bring it, there are usually surfboards to borrow. As far as personal electronics go, you are welcome to bring what you want but your phone won’t work once you get there. Someone will be sent to pick you up from the airport, I don’t know yet who.

I’m really looking forward to seeing you in person again, Buck. I really think you will like it here.

There’s nothing quite like it on earth, and I think you’ll fit right in. See you Monday!

Dave

Tags for those who asked: @eliotwaughdeservesbetter @grimmsdead @anangrylittlehobbit

#bucktommy goes to the pegasus galaxy fic #bucktommy #911 abc #tevan #evan buckley #bucktommy fic #911 fic #eddie diaz #maddie han #writing #stargate atlantis #stargate sg 1 #crossover fic

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justastraymoa · 18 hours ago

Text

Yet Unnamed

Chapter 2

Masterlist

Korean is in bold and italic.

Warnings for Yet Unnamed: Kidnapping, cuffs, injuries, drugging by injection, mentions of needles, lots of swearing, kissing, fluff, angst, idiots in love all around.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl. Pics off pinterest.

Twenty minutes later, all 4 of you were in a car heading to the Stray Kids apartment. Something you would have killed for in the past. But now you were nervous. Your leg kept bouncing unconsciously, and you kept your gaze out the window, lip between your teeth.

“Why did you 3 stay behind?” You ask mainly to distract yourself from the situation. You understood why they sent Changbin away. If he was truly ready to get violent, then that wasn’t a good thing, and it was for the best that he was removed from the situation. And the temptation.

“We are the nicest, and Hyung is the leader.” Han shrugged simply.

Honestly, valid. If any of them were going to put someone at ease, it would be the sunshine twins.

Felix reached over and brushed your arm lightly with his fingertips. He had been doing this every few minutes since he was forced to let go of your hands. It was almost like he needed to make sure I was real. That I was actually here and solid and okay.

With a sigh that was half fond, you roll your eyes and grab his hand, lacing your fingers firmly with his. Contact may help your nerves anyway. It was a win-win. Felix did seem to visibly relax in his seat, face smoothing out and looking content.

Chan looked back from the front seat. He had been texting on his phone for almost the whole ride. “I have someone bringing you clothes and a phone.” He informed you. “Here, text them anything else you want.” He handed you back his phone without hesitation.

“Can you do that? Just hand your phone to some rando you just met?” You ask not moving to take the device. You didn’t know how it worked for him, but you had all kinds of information on your phone. Passwords, noods, bank numbers, you name it! You could do all sorts of things with his phone if you had the intention to.

Your fangirl heart was really struggling today. You are not sure how you weren’t screaming and crying being so close to 3 members of Stray Kids. You were even almost calmly holding Felixs hand! THE BangChan was now handing you his PERSONAL PHONE! That’s it! You can’t! You just can’t!

Chan patiently continues to hold the phone out to you. “You could argue that my soul has known yours for a long time, so we aren’t strangers. Plus, you aren’t some rando. You are our soulmate. I would give you anything.”

Blushing, you take the phone gingerly. It was opened to an ongoing text chain with someone named Dohyun. The chain started in Korean but transitioned to English. You didn’t think they realized you could read and write Korean fluently since you were 6 years old. Your grandfather was a very traditional man and insisted on it. He taught you all about your heritage. Even on his deathbed, he was giving you last-minute lessons.

You kept hold of Felixs hand even as you used both yours to start typing in English. It was sneaky and shady, but you wanted to see – or well hear – what they would say if they didn’t know you could understand them. And it’s not like they ever asked, and you lied about knowing Korean. They just assumed.

The first thing you did was send them your bank info and very strict instructions to use only your money. You would not let yourself be indebted to them. Well, any more than you already were. You weren’t keeping track, but since they kidnapped you, you felt like you were pretty even right now, with them letting you stay with them, and you wanted to keep it that way.

You could feel Felix reading over your shoulder, but he didn’t protest. He just watched in silence as you made your list and gave them clothing sizes and preferences. You only needed enough to get by for now. You had stuff back at your house, and anything else you could shop for yourself.

“Did I miss anything?” You ask Felix after coming up on nothing else to add for a long minute.

Felix hummed as he thought. “Do you want your own bedsheets or anything?” He asked. You shake your head. You could use what they had already. No use spending money on that.

Han leaned in to look, but didn’t give any suggestions, so you sent the message and handed Chan his phone back before your inner demons won and you started to look through his phone and invade his privacy and trust. You were only human, after all.

Chan scanned the text but also didn’t say anything about your instructions to only use your money. You choose to believe it was them respecting your wishes and not something else odd or secret going on like the dark part of your brain was trying to tell you it was.

When the car finally slowed and came to a stop, you didn’t move to get out. Instead, you looked out the window again at the very imposing building you would be living in. You were not a big city person. You avoided large crowds for the most part. So this extremely tall and glittery building was overpowering to you.

“This had been a very hard day for me.” You say quietly to no one in particular. You didn’t know how to describe everything you were feeling. How mixed your thoughts were. The ups and downs you have been through over the last few hours alone. You could feel your mind and emotions wanting to go numb, comfortably blank. You could feel yourself fighting to not shut down. There was still a lot to do yet before you could.

Chan reached and patted your knee lightly. “I warned them to give you some space tonight. Lino made you some dinner, but he and Hyunjin headed out for the evening.”

“What about Seungminnie and Ayen?” Han asked.

You were thankful they were giving you a few minutes more to get ready. Also that you weren’t going to be bombarded by the other members of the group just yet.

“And Bin Hyung?” Felix asked, back to stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Min and Ayen went to practice some more. They said they would be there until late. Bin refused to leave. He is still worked up. Y/n, he is a clinger, and since he was so affected by what they did to you, he will most likely be worse than usual. Just be prepared, and don't be afraid to tell him to back off if you need to. He will get over it."

You nod absently, already knowing that you will welcome the cuddles after the day you have had. Especially since it will bring more comfort to the space in your chest that the others affect.

Just four. You could handle one more person for sure. And food sounded amazing. You hadn't had anything since breakfast the day you were kidnapped. Whenever that was. At this point, you didn't know. Was it a day ago? Two days? Time was gone at this point. And right now, you didn't care to figure it out. It could wait until tomorrow. It would right itself eventually. When it mattered. When you needed it.

Now that you were thinking about food, your stomach clenched in hunger. You were thankful it didn't make an embarrassing sound like it always did in anime's.

"Is Lee Know really a good cook or is that just hype?" You ask, both out of curiosity and to buy yourself more time.

Han laughed. "Oh, it's not hype. It's amazing!" His laugh made you smile.

Felix tugged on your hand. "C'mon. We got you." He spoke lowly, giving the illusion of privacy.

His assurance, however, did help a bit, and you gave him a nod. As if waiting for a cue you didn't see or hear, the door was opened, and you were on your way to the apartment. You kind of felt odd. Out of body.

Chan barely guided you through the door before a large set of arms engulfed you. You blink and freeze in confusion.

"Bin, give her a minute!" Chan chastised behind you.

You take a deep breath and wave him off. Using the hand not still holding Felixs to rub down Changbins spine in soothing long strokes. He shivered lightly in response.

After a minute, he let go and took a step back. "I'm sorry. Last time I saw you, you were so out of it and terrified. I haven't been able to get it out of my head." He shifted, not so subtly checking me over, eyes lingering on my bruised wrists and hands.

"Most of those are my fault. I broke out of two sets of zip ties before they used the metal cuffs." You shrugged. All those hours of doom scrolling through the clock app did actually do some good. You learned how to break zip ties. It gave you a chance to attempt to escape. You weren't successful in escaping, but you for sure made it difficult for them. And you were oddly proud of that fact.

Changbins face lit up with a smile, and you blinked, stunned. "What?" You asked.

"Out girl is a fighter! I'm just so proud!" He responded.

"Changbin!" Chan snapped. Probably because of the 'our girl' comment. You just chose to ignore it. Choose your battles and all that jazz.

You shrugged one shoulder. "I wasn't about to go down without a fight."

Changbins face dropped so abruptly into a dark mask that you had to stop yourself from stepping back automatically as a shiver of fear crawled up your spine. That look was downright terrifying. You never wanted that look aimed your way.

"What that asshole did to you was wrong! So wrong! And if they'd let me, I'd knock his lights out. Break his jaw so he could never give another idiotic order like that again!" He spoke lowly, calmly, which made it all the more terrifying.

"I'd let you. I'd join you. Hold him down for you." You respond without hesitation.

Han squeezed his way by. "Seriously, Bin. She hasn't eaten. Let her in." He spoke in Korean. You did your best to keep up the illusion. You couldn't understand what he said.

"Yes. Lee Know left food for all of you. I'm Changbin, by the way. Or Bin, Binnie, whatever you want to call me."

Why did they all feel the need to introduce themselves like they weren't famous? Just politeness? It was really hard not to respond sarcastically.

"Y/n." You introduced yourself as you walked into the apartment, and the smell of BBQed meat hit your nose. Your mouth immediately started to water, and you swallowed.

Felix let go of your hand in favor of diving for a plate of the steaming food that was sitting in 4 spots on the table. "Oh, it smells so good!" He moaned, taking a deep sniff close to the food.

You wholeheartedly agreed. You awkwardly sat and took the fork Chan offered me to replace the chopsticks they didn't know I could use. Another thing they just assumed instead of asking that you would let them think for a while.

You could feel their eyes on you as you took your first bite, and you tried not to be self-conscious and overthink how you chewed or anything like that. Focusing instead firmly on the food in front of you.

As soon as the flavor hit your tongue, you forgot all about them watching. It was a brand new flavor for you. Nothing like any BBQ chicken you have ever had before. It was amazing, and you took another bite before you even swallowed the first.

"Guess that means you like it." Chan chuckled, finally digging into his own food. You just nod, still chewing happily.

"Lino will be glad to hear it. I think he was a little nervous. He kept fiddling with it before Hyune finally dragged him away." Binnie revealed as he sat with us.

It was mostly silent as you all focused on the food. Your stomach was singing in praise at finally having something in it besides the tiny cup of water Felix gave you earlier.

"Did you have enough?" Bin asked as you finished up your last bite. You nod, rubbing your stuffed belly in contentment.

"That was very good, thank you. And thank Lee Know for me, please." You request.

"No problem." Chan started. "So, I'm sure you want to shower and stuff. I can show you to your room. It has a private bathroom. And I'm sure we can find you some clothes to wear until the personal shopper gets here. As long as you don't mind wearing our clothes." Chan stood and picked up all the dishes, placing them in the sink as he spoke.

I bit my cheek. There was no way there was an extra room with a private bath just sitting empty. "I don't mind borrowing clothes if you don't mind. But who's room am I stealing?"

"You didn't steal anything. I figured you would be more comfortable with your own bathroom."

So, Chans room then. That makes sense. He was the oldest. He would have the choice room.

Bin let you gently down a hall, hand just brushing the small of my back like he was afraid to touch me all of a sudden. the others followed like little ducklings. You laughed at the images that produced in your mind silently.

The room was simple and nice. Warm colors accented the plain white walls. Navy blue blanket on the nearly made bed. You suspected they were fresh blankets and sheets for you. It was also bare. Very little personal belongings, and you could see the drawers were empty.

"I moved in with Minnie. Figured you would need the drawers." Chan shrugged when he noticed my line of sight.

"We moved everything over while you were at JYPE. We were hoping you would choose to stay." Bin explained further.

You felt a little emotional. They had all already done so much for you. For your comfort. And you had displaced five of them. Four from the apartment and Chan from his room. You were for sure being annoying. A burden. "This is too much."

I watched as four faces fell and felt even guiltier. "What's wrong? You need us to leave?" Han asked, wringing his hands. It was a nervous habit of his you had noticed. One that STAY normally didn't get to see.

You waved your hands. "No, no! Not like that! I mean... I kicked four of you out of your home!"

"Y/n, they are fine for a few hours. They don't mind and they will come back later." Chan assured you. Bin nodded in confirmation.

You gestured around the room. "And you? I kicked you out of your room!"

Chan smiled and tucked a piece of stray hair from your face. You could feel how knotted it was. How unkempt and stringy. "We have all been dying to finally have you here. Everyone knows I don't sleep. So, I really don't need a room. I tend to sleep wherever I land that night. We all just want you to be comfortable and happy."

"You promise you won't get less sleep because of this - me. Any of you."

Chan's face softened into a look you didn't understand but made your stomach do a little flutter. "I promise, y/n."

The shower was perfect. Just this side of melting your skin off and a constant messaging water pressure that made you moan loudly and throw your head back.

You startle as there was a crash in the bedroom. "Everything okay?" You called, heart still racing a bit. You stopped moving, straining to listen for an answer.

"Yeah! Yupp! All good. Just...fell." Felixs voice came through the door, sounding muffled but strangely high pitched.

"Did you hurt yourself?"

"No, nope. I'm good. Um - I put some of Innie's clothes on the bed for you. They should work well enough."

You called out your thanks and went back to showering. You used what you assumed were Chans soaps. They smelled lightly fragranced. Like baby powder almost, but with a perfume edge. You were a fan.

When you were done and left the bathroom, you found a couple of pieces of clothes laid out on the bed. A pair of black boxers with chilis printed on them and a gray t-shirt. I slipped both on, swimming in the shirt, but comfy.

But what did you do now. No one was in the bedroom anymore. You were mentally exhausted and looked at the bed but weren't willing to get in it yet.

In the end, you silently crept from the room to find the others. Maybe chat or better yet watch TV. Something that uses no brainpower. Something mundane and normal.

The hall was still lit, and you could hear several voices. Maybe they were already watching TV. That would make it less awkward. You could just silently join them.

As soon as you stepped round the corner and into the living room, you almost ran right into I.N holding a glass of water. You both froze. You in shock, you didn't know the others came back yet.

I.N looked you over once before spitting out the water he had been holding in his mouth. "You gave her my underwear!" He screeched. The whole room was looking at you both now. Seungmin was sitting on the couch next to Chan.

Felix shrugged, unapologetic. "The only thing I could find that looked like it would fit and be comfortable to sleep in." He explained.

"Did I do something wrong?" You asked, very entertained by I.Ns reaction. You fiddle with the hem on the shirt.

"No!" Everyone in the room instantly replied. You blink owlishly at them. That was kind of intense.

Changbin made grabby hands at you from the loveseat he sat on. Your heart freaking melted at the adorableness.

"That was so fucking cute, oh my god!" You breath.

I.N snorted. You stick your tongue out at him as you pass to sit next to Changbin, which only made him snort again.

Changbin immediately pulled your legs over his lap and put an arm around the front of your hips. "Ayen and Minnie ended up coming home earlier than expected. Sorry."

You shrug. "It's their home. And I feel better after the shower. I'll be fine. Thank you."

"Bin, don't hog our girl!" Felix pouted, bouncing over on his tip toes.

Somehow, he managed to wedge himself onto the loveseat behind you. You were half sitting on his lap.

You had a feeling both Bin and Felix were going to be the clingiest ones. Not that you minded. You loved to cuddle. And so far, they were A class cuddlers.

There was some sitcom playing on the large TV. Someone even put english subtitles on for me.

A shiver ran through you, and goosebumps rose on your skin. Less than a minute later, a blanket was draped over your legs, and Seungmin was behind the loveseat rubbing a towel over your damp hair.

"Stupid. Your hair is still wet, and you aren't wearing enough. You're going to get sick." He grumbled, still drying my hair. You couldn't help but giggle. He was so aggressively caring.

When my hair was satisfactorily dry, he left and came back with a brush to gently untangle my mussed hair.

His fingers and the brush were so gentle in your hair that you could feel yourself drifting off. It had been such a long time since someone played with your hair like this. You forgot how relaxing it was.

You must have actually fallen asleep because next you looked the TV was off and it was just you, Bin, Felix, and I.N in the living room. You could hear the others nearby talking lowly and also some wet smacks you suspected were kisses.

"What time is it?" You mumble, rubbing your face on the back of the couch.

"Just after midnight." Felix answered quietly. You did fall asleep then. For several hours.

You move and stretch out so your top half was now in Felixs lap, already halfway asleep again. "Is that Lee Know and Hyunjin?"

There was a hum of affirmation, and Felix started running his fingers through your hair. You were asleep again seconds later, not even caring that you were laying in the laps of two men you had only just met.

General Taglist @stellasays45 @beebee18 @weird-bookworm @velvetmoonlght

Yet Unnamed Taglist: @fackeraccount @velvetmoonlght @hyunjinstolemyheart @vampkittenb82 @happy-jj @estella-novella @demigoddreamon-blog @tiana-maxivar @ms-flowergirl @jennibahng @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @mimimiloomeelomi

(If your tag isn't working i am unable to tag you for whatever reason. I'll keep you on and try every chapter.)

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pinazee · 3 days ago

Text

Truer lies

Its interesting to see Shawn starting to deal with the fall out of pretending to be psychic for so long. I think that would really wear on him after a while, and im glad it did. Personally, as an overachieving teachers pet, i would want credit for all the smart things i did. But yeah, on top of that, it must be so frustrating that he cant just be like “I KNOW WHEN PEOPLE ARE LYING BECAUSE OF THESE TELLS, NOW CAN WE PLEASE JUST DO AS I SAY BECAUSE I KNOW THINGS??” Instead, he has to say its a psychic vibe and people roll their eyes because thats not evidence (fair). Shawn even had to convince gus to trust him this time- actually his plea was more than that. He was asking Gus to believe in him as a person. Like, please trust that i still know where the line is. I doubt he thought this psych stuff would last this long though. I expect he thought it would be a fun 3-6 months just like his dad did (and probably Gus too) but it turns out it never stopped being fun. So, what, like 3 years later-yeah, that has to get to you, and also exhausting, not only because his visions were quite physical in the beginning haha. He’s basically a fraud, and knowing who he is as a person, it has to tear him up inside every time he has to lie, especially to Juliet which we know later really bites him in the ass (which i cant wait for)

Speaking of juliet, i kind of wish she would have stood up for him a little bit with lassie, because he has a pretty good record of solving cases and making them look foolish in the process, despite all the silliness and flair for the dramatics. I kind of get why she’d still be on the fence, but i think she could have explained to him that hey, its not you i don’t trust, its this guy who has a reputation for lying. But i get that for the plot of the episode and for the sake of shawns arc they couldn’t exactly do that. I guess it says something that juliet and lassie did have his back in the end which was great. Like, we don’t always believe ya but we’ll be there anyways ;)

why did they both take this bit seriously though?? Hes clearly doing a bit Lol

Lassie may talk a big talk about hating shawn but he was running those hospital halls right beside jules when they thought shawn was injured ;) he loves him case closed.

What the heck is this thing supposed to be??? I googled old handheld games amd couldn’t find it.

Jumping to lieber being the murderer is kind of just bad detective work?? Like they jumped to that conclusion very fast, and frankly, they should have caught the double shadow. I know this is nitpicky but i couldn’t let it slide. Plus, overall i think its a bit meh, crime-wise. Like i was a bit lost with how lyin ryan fit into all of it and what the original crime was but its still fun. And lyin ryan was a fun character that im surprised didnt make a return too.

P.S Lassie likes a nice mustache. I wonder why he didnt keep his mustache that we saw in the flashback of the first ep?? He could have gone full Magnum P.I. Do you think the ex wife made him get rid of it?

#psych rewatch #psych #shawn and gus #shawn spencer #burton guster #james roday rodriguez #james roday #dulé hill #dule hill

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the-morningstar-family · 1 day ago

Note

Okay but you guys really should try to get to the bottom of the trauma stuff. As someone with a similar problem, it generally helps to start talking about things that you do remember happening, and continuing to talk about stuff sometimes helps the other stuff resurface

Alastor: “The thing is I do not remember at all. Not even a smidge”

Lucifer: “Then let me tell you what I read about and found out and all”

Alastor: “And that is supposed to help?”

Lucifer: “It’s not a guarantee, but it's the best starting point we have, no?”

The deer huffs but nods.

Alastor: “Fine, what have you read about?”

Lucifer: “So the most obvious thing could be … electroshock therapy or electro therapy”

He says it carefully, seeing if that already triggers anything. It doesn't, except making Alastor look even more sceptical.

Lucifer: “If it's electroshock therapy, it you would've at least 13. If it's electro therapy it could've happen anytime, but it's usually not supposed to me more than a tickling. Anything come to mind yet?”

The deer shakes his head. Cocking it a little to the side. Lucifer frowns. The angel pulls out that psychology book. Not immediately opening the pages of the therapies in question, but the offices presented.

Lucifer: “Mh. Maybe you've been somewhere like that-?”

Alastor: “There would not have been a ward in the state I could've gone to that would have looked this nice.”

Lucifer: “Oh, common' it can't have been that bad, sure it might be a little cherry picked-”

Alastor: “I think you misunderstood me”

With his brow wrinkles, he looks up at Alastor.

Alastor: “Lucifer. Not only were we desperately poor, my mama was black.”

Lucifer: “So?”

Alastor, sighing: “Segregation was very well in place, dear.”

Lucifer: “I thought you said you could pass as white?“

Alastor: “There were certain times I could. But very much not as a child, nor if I did not straighten my hair. And even then not necessarily most of the time. Facilities for ‘our kind’ would not look this well. And the only people that could be treated by white doctors were people with not one single black person in their ancestry, no matter how white they looked.”

Lucifer: “... How did the hospitals look then?”

Alastor's shoulders drop. The thought of the few institutions that were close enough to visit, and how they were falling apart. People did their best to keep it standing, but with little to no funding… There is only so much one can do.

Alastor: “... Patched together. Pulling from everywhere and sneaking any last penny to it's upkeep. The wall sometimes had cracked, only the important areas were cleaned. There was no time nor money for more. Not even the chairs would have looked that well”

Lucifer blinks. The. Again. As the shock sets in deeper.

Lucifer: “Why?”

Alastor: “... A coloured person was essentially not worth as much. My grandfather was still a slave… They did not care if someone of the wrong colour died. So what if the schools can barely stay open and the hospitals fall apart?”

An old anger grips him, something he had been so powerless again for his life. He presses his palms against his eyes, and Lucifer rubs his back. The deer doesn't even notice.

Alastor: “So what if you can't pay for a simple treatment, that has been out for years? It doesn't matter if she dies. So what if all the medical instruments are older than you, as long as you can come and work tomorrow it doesn't matter. And you will. Because you need the fucking money-”

Lucifer: “Al-”

Alastor: “So why the fuck should we care that that contraption transmits too much elec-?”

With a start he bleats, quite unexpected too. The air escapes his lungs shakier. The smile is sharp a d quivering at the edges, while his shoulders are drawn up and stiff. Carefully, Lucifer peels his partner's hands away from the red rimmed eyes.

Lucifer, softly: “Hey, that was progress. But we should stop for now. Hm?”

The deer isn't even sure what he said that counts in his angel's eyes as ‘progress’. But his head jerks in agreement, desperate to stop this line of thought.

Lucifer: “... For the record, I think racism is really stupid”

A huff escapes Alastor, somehow perfectly patched between utter despair and amusement. He curls up on Lucifer. He doesn't care, the king started this, now he'll have to deal with him.

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itscloudsocks · 1 day ago

Text

Time and Time again - chapter 2

cw: drugs, violence, character death

He now spends most of his time near the Last Drop, in case Jayce shows up again. In the beginning, it´s quite boring but then Benzo - a friend of Vander´s, apparently - lets him build stuff in his store from scrap and Viktor can still see the large square in front of the Last Drop, so he won´t be missing Jayce coming. The first week or so, nothing happens. Viktor has just started being angry with himself for being so stupid as to believe a Topsider, when a familiar mop of brown hair catches his attention. Jayce.

He´s much better dressed this time, with wornout pants, dirty, old shoes and a large, patchy shirt. Viktor leaves the little desk Benzo has pushed closer to the window for him, leaves the shop door open after himself when he bursts out of the store and yell across the place, as loud as he can. It´s barely audible over the rumble of mumble of the Lane, but Jayce´s head still whips around. His eyes, large and bright, go searching for a moment but then he smiles in blinding excitement and makes his way over.

“Viktor!”

“You came,” Viktor notices, a bit too excited for his own liking.

“I did! And I wore my working clothes this time! Ma was a little mad last time that I got the other ones all dirty. Look, it´s nothing more than a scratch now!” He strokes some strands of hair from his forehead and shows Viktor a scabbed-over, long scratch on his forehead. “Ma said it´s probably gonna scar!”

He looks way too excited to have a scar from his own stupidity, but Viktor doesn´t say that. Instead, he drags Jayce after him, back into Benzo´s shop and to his own little work station. They tinker away together. Jayce is surprisingly talented - and strong. He follows Viktor´s orders with no trouble, forces pieces of metal apart, screws bolts into holes and laughs when Viktor, frowning, struggles to open them back up. They don´t get very far but they get somewhere and Viktor notices Benzo stopping in his tracks now and again, watching them tinkering and building and creating while Jayce excitedly chatters along and Viktor hums every now and again. After a couple of hours have passed, Benzo has to remind them of the time. Jayce jumps up, kicking over his chair on his way out the door, but he waves and smiles and promises to be back soon.

“He´s a nice kid,” Benzo notices after the door to the shop falls closed again. “I´m glad you´re making friends. ´s that the boy Vander brought back up?”

“Yeah, I found him,” Viktor nods, frowning when the light gets too bad for him to really see what he´s doing.

“Just be careful, you two, yeah? Some people don´t like the thought of Pilties and Zaunites getting along.”

“I know,” nods Viktor seriously. Not long after, he packs his little bag and makes his way back home. Much to his surprise, his mother is there, sitting at their small, wonky wooden table.

“Viktor, where were you? I was worried!”

Her eyes are cloudy and far away and Viktor leaves his bag near the door to come closer.

“I was at Benzo´s, Mama. You know him, you showed me where his shop is, remember?

Cold hands cup his cheeks and pull him closer into an embrace that, this time, smells of smog and drugs.

“Nothing can happen to you, you hear me? You can´t ever leave me, Viktor, okay? Promise me, that you´ll always stay right here where I can see you.”

“I know, mama, I promise,” nods Viktor softly, placing his hands over hers. He doesn´t like when she gets like this; shaky and paranoid and jumpy. When she talks to nobody in the room in her - his - mother tongue, too quick for him to understand. When she sits at the table, staring into the darkness, staring at him curled up in bed until she thinks he´s fallen asleep to sneak outside again. When she scratches at her arms, when the wrong words make her angry, furious, violent. Viktor just smiles when she presses a kiss to his forehead before sending him off to bed. She doesn´t help when he struggles to take off his leg brace or when he wraps a stiff cloth around his leg to keep it from bending at night, to keep the pain from becoming worse. She just sits at their small wonky table, softly swaying back and forth, mumbling to herself.

Curled up under the covers, Viktor stares at the wall just inches from his nose until he hears the scratch of wood on stone and his mothers light, dragging footsteps leading to the door. She leaves and stays away for hours. Hours where Viktor wonders if she´s ever coming back to him. She does. And when she does, she smells like alcohol and sewage water and tears. He finally falls asleep with her softly rubbing his back.

He and Jayce meet a few more times. When Jayce gets better and quicker, Viktor stops teaching him in favour of working on his own things. This time, it´s a little mechanical plane that´s too heavy to fly. Still, he builds it. Jayce almost cries when Viktor hands it to him one day, after it´s done.

“For me?”, he asks, a smile so bright it could light up the room on his face.

“Yeah. It doesn´t fly, but-”

“Thank you!”

Jayce hugs him and Viktor, too startled, just stands there. The hug is warm and soft and not at all boney. It doesn´t smell like pink smoke or drugs, instead Jayce´s hair smells faintly of something sweet and light and his shirt smells like fire and metal.

“I love it,” he squeals, once he pulls away. “I can´t wait to show Ma, she´ll love it too!”

When Jayce runs back to wherever he´s come from, Viktor is already excited to see him again.

Rio is dead. Alive, but dead, and it frightens Viktor too much to stay. He had come back to Singed after almost two weeks of not showing his face, just to feed and play with Rio. Singed said he could, he´s done it before and it´s never been a problem. But that day, when he had entered the cave, something had felt wrong. And then he´d seen Rio, attached to machines and his normal, soft pink colour deathly grey. He´d only blinked at Viktor, chirped softly, but didn´t move to come closer. He´d looked like he was in pain, in lots and lots of pain. When Viktor had stumbled back, he´d collided with Singed. Singed who didn´t look sad that his friend was in pain. There had been a crazy, excited look in his eyes, he had smiled and placed a hand on Viktor´s shoulder.

“Isn´t it just beautiful?”, he had asked and Viktor had ran as fast as his stupid useless leg would carry him, right hand cramping around the handle of his cane. He had ran and he had cried until he burst through the door of Vander´s bar, not really sure how he´d gotten there but glad he did nonetheless. And that´s where he is now, sitting on a bar stool that makes his legs dangle over the edge, a warm cup of sweet milk in front of him and Vander leaning over the counter, looking at him with narrowed eyes.

“So, tell me again, who is Rio?”

“He´s Singed´s pet…and he…he was plugged into all of those machines and…he didn´t look okay…”

“Viktor,” Vander sighs. “How often have you seen Singed so far?”

“Not that often…just a couple of times…he said I could come by any time to play with Rio and help feed him…”

“He´s a dangerous man, kid, you hear me? I know it´s tempting and I know playing with Rio must be a lot of fun, but you can´t go back to Singed, ever. Alright?”

Frowning, Viktor tilts his head.

“But…he doesn´t seem dangerous…”

“Not yet. Just trust me on this one, kid. You´re too brilliant of a mind to be poisoned by a person like Singed.”

Wiping the sleeve of his sweater over his runny nose, Viktor nods slowly.

“But…Rio…”

“I´m sorry, son, but it´s for the best. You can only hope that he dies, quickly and without any pain.”

Rio dying doesn´t sound right to Viktor´s ears. He´s his friend, he´s not supposed to die. But seeing him in that much pain, not even strong enough to get up and greet him…

Viktor stays with Vander for a long time and once it´s time to go home, Vander walks him. He´s not sure why, Vander has never done that before and it´s not like Viktor has never walked home in the dark, but he does, and Viktor is secretly grateful for it. His mother isn´t home when he falls asleep and she hasn´t returned when he wakes. It´s a new day where Viktor, feeling a bit less cheery with Rio´s sad, tired eyes burnt into the hills and valleys of his brain, makes his way over to Benzo´s. It´s raining, so Viktor stays away from the open sky. While he´s gotten out of the worst parts of Zaun before it started, the rain still isn´t healthy up in the Lanes. His leg is aching, a deep, old pain he can do nothing against. When he pushes the door to Benzo´s shop open, the older, round man is already waiting for him with a blanket in his arms.

“There you are, kid,” he grins, throwing the blanket over Viktor´s head. “No weather´s too bad for you, hm? Little rat.”

Ignoring the teasing insult, Viktor wraps himself in the blanket and takes a moment to just sit and massage the tension from his leg. It barely works.

“Benzo?”

“Hm? What´s up, boy?”

“Why does Vander hate Singed so much?”

Viktor sometimes forgets how uncomfortable other people get with his bluntness. Benzo scratches the back of his head, laughs awkwardly and looks over to the side.

“I don´t think there´s a specific reason. He mainly just disagrees with Singe´s…ethics.”

“His ethics?”

“He likes to experiment,” Benzo explains.

“But I do that too…”

“No, not the way you do. He experiments on…living things. It started with plants but he´s long gone over to animals and…himself.”

That´s why Viktor enjoys spending time with Benzo and Vander. They don´t treat him like a little child who can´t handle the truth.

“That sounds dangerous,” frowns Viktor. And painful. He wonders if Singed is in pain just like Viktor always is.

“It is. He´s no good company, best stay away from him, you hear me?”

Nodding, Viktor shuffles towards his workbench. He knows that Jayce isn´t going to show up today, with the weather and everything, but lately it´s been unbearable to be home. So he helps Benzo with some repairs, organizes the old mans shelves and works on sketching a new figurine for his mother. When he walks back, it´s still raining, his leg is still aching, but he feels less heavy than he did when he woke up.

Jayce comes back a week later, tan cheeks blushing and eyes sparkling. He´s excited about something, giddy, almost, when he pushes the door to Benzo´s shop open and joins Viktor at the table.

“I…made something for you,” he admits softly. He reaches deep into the pockets of his pants and pulls out a…chunk of metal? Viktor is not quite sure what he´s looking at, here.

“It´s a spinning top! And, and look! My dad helped me but look!”

Jayce places the spinning top - now that he´s said it, Viktor can recognize it - on the table, in the small patch of light the lamp next to the table sheds, and spins. Viktors eyes grow large large large when he watches colours he´s never seen before dance across the table and the walls, over his pale fingers and Jayce´s excited face.

“It makes lights! Dad put something in the middle to make it do that but I had the idea! Do you like it?”

Viktor tentatively reaches out and takes the spinning top from where Jayce has picked it up again. Carefully, he picks it up, notices with half a mind how warm Jayce´s hands are, and looks at it closely. It´s clumsy work, the metal welded together by the hand of an impatient eight year old. But it´s made with care, made with a large, sharp-edged ball of glass in the middle, made with different colours and materials. Made with Viktor in mind.

“I do,” he admits softly, still staring down at the ugly yet beautiful creation. “I do. Thank you.”

Holding it close to his chest, he gives Jayce a small smile while his heart flutters in joy. They play and build and talk until it´s almost too late and Jayce is in such a hurry that he almost forgets to say goodbye. He still does, though. And when Viktor shows his spinning top to Benzo, he laughs in delight. And when Viktor walks home, he holds it close to his chest like a treasure. And when he comes home, his mother is sitting at the table and Viktor usually knows what that means but right now he´s too, too happy, so he comes up to her and shows her his new toy. Tells her a friend made it for him. His mother just stares with her deep, empty eyes. She stares until she blinks and she blinks until she moves her hand and slaps the spinning top from the table. It clatters to the ground and Viktor stumbles back, startled, and afraid that it´s broken. It´s not. But his mother is towering over him, her voice high and paranoid and Viktor has no time to be excited because she starts screaming and clawing at his hair and his hands and his clothes.

It is that night where she finds out that Viktor is friends with a Topsider. That he´s been meeting with said Topsider for multiple multiple weeks now. It´s that night that she has an episode like no other. She screams and shouts in the language Viktor has grown up with but still can´t quite understand and she hits him and takes his cane and throws it across the room. And Viktor is so so scared that he takes his spinning top - not broken not broken not broken - and hides away in the darkest corner of their small little one-room home, waiting for his mother to forget he´s here, for her to calm down.

When she does, she starts crying. She pulls Viktor out of his corner even though he flinches away and she wraps him in her arms and cries into his hair and says how sorry she is, how sorry she is for scaring her little star, for hurting him, and that she´s a horrible, horrible mother and Viktor can only sit in her lap and let her hug him, let her calm herself down. At some point, she falls asleep from exhaustion so Viktor tucks her into bed, shuffles over to his cane, takes his pillow and makes himself a nest beneath their table. He knows that he´ll regret it in the morning, that his back and leg with hurt like hell, but he can´t stand to be close to his mother right now. Even halfway across the room, he can smell the sweet, pink smoke and the drugs and the tears clinging to her hair and clothes like a second skin. He falls asleep with the spinning top pressed to his chest.

Three days later, his mother dies. It´s both so so sudden and very much expected. Viktor doesn´t know what it means at first, when a young man stands in front of the door, swaying a bit, eyes cloudy and forehead sweaty. He´s high, Viktor notices. In his arms, he´s holding his barely conscious mother. He unceremoniously dumps her on the bed, excuses himself and wobbles outside, throwing up in the alley in front of their door. Viktor turns towards his mother, towards her pale face and barely-open eyes. She smiles ever so slightly, brushes a hand over his bruised cheek, opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. She passes away, riding the high of whatever she took. Viktor stands by her bed, holds her hand, holds the spinning top in the other. He´s not sure what to do; he has a home he can´t pay for and his mother is dead. The grief doesn´t kick in right away. He tucks his mother in like he always does, takes his cane and leaves. His feet carry him to the Last Drop. Pushing the door open, he stands there for a moment. There are eyes on him, some customers used to his skinny, pale face, others weirded out by the strange limping boy. Vander´s voice is there, somewhere, but Viktor can´t understand what he´s saying. His legs give in.

He´s sitting on the floor until he´s not. Until someone - Vander - carefully scoops him up and sits him down on a chair, wraps him up in a blanket, hands him a cup of sweet milk and leaves to get Benzo. Felicia stays with Viktor while Vander and Benzo take care of his mother, take care of the handful of things they have owned. Viktor doesn´t see his mother again, doesn´t know where they take her or what they do with her body but when Vander comes back, he places a heavy hand on Viktor´s shoulder and says, voice rough and tired,” I´ve prepared your bed in the back. It´s not perfect but we´ll find a better solution tomorrow.”

It is then, that Viktor starts crying. Once it settles in that he´ll never return home, that his mother will never rub his back again, that he´ll never hear her call him little star, that he´ll never smell her million scents or hear her laughing ever again. Felicia holds him through it, softly strokes his bruised arms, holds his bruised face. He claws at her back, presses his face against her shoulder. Crying is a weakness and weakness means death down in Zaun but Viktor can´t stop the tears, can´t stop the gasps from wrecking his body, can´t stop his teeth from clattering. When he´s all cried out and exhausted, Felicia somehow carries him to the back where the couch is covered in his pillow and blanket. There´s a small bookshelf next to the couch where boxes of vegetables used to be stored. Now, it´s filled with Viktors figurines. He cries again, cries into his pillow, presses the spinning top close close close until he´s sure - hopes - it´s left indents in his skin. Felicia is rubbing his back, is humming a soft, unfamiliar tune that somehow lulls Viktor to sleep.

Jayce doesn´t come that week. Or the next. Or the one after that. He never comes so at some point, Viktor stops waiting. He moves on with life, picks up a job at Benzo´s, cleans out a small space in the attic of the Last Drop and lives there. It´s not idea, he still sometimes sleeps in the back when his leg hurts too bad for him to move up the stairs. Vander starts growing a beard. He turns ten; Benzo starts teaching him how to read, shows him his small collection of books he´s been finding and buying from everywhere in Zaun. Felicia´s belly starts to grow. It´s a girl, her name is Violet. She has pink hair and light blue eyes and Viktor doesn´t usually like kids, but she´s cute. He grows out of his leg brace and his cane, spends month building new ones, etches a small V into it. The spinning top starts collecting dust, most of Viktor´s figurines have been recycled for scraps.

Jayce doesn´t show.

Tag list (leave a comment if you´d like to be added <3) @frog-fans-unite

#arcane #arcane fic #viktor arcane #jayce talis #jayce x viktor #jayvik #vi arcane #vander arcane #benzo arcane #caitlyn kiramman #ximena talis #ekko arcane #powder arcane #jinx arcane #alternate universe #some stuff´s canon #some stuff´s not #people live

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vidavalor · 2 days ago

Note

Look at all these lovely details to ponder! 😍

re: the wedding ring--

I mean, I know you'll be as surprised as I am to find that there's not much info on how pregnancy works in fictional supernatural bird angel humans 😂 but, given the effort in the story to show how human the supernatural characters are, I'm assuming that it's probably not much different from human pregnancy. Conceivably, this could mean that Aziraphale would have been pregnant for months and, while he probably kept a low profile during that time, he'd likely have to leave the bookshop at some point.

To be an unmarried and pregnant in the 1920s was the height of scandal. To avoid issues in the human world, he'd have had to wear a wedding ring. The height of irony, right, since neither the supernatural world nor the human world he was living in would recognize him and Crowley as married. (We're possibly circling towards the same rationale behind "Mr. Fell" here where taking a version of The Fallen as his last name was the closest Aziraphale thought they'd ever get to being married.) But Maggie's great-grandmother's ring had to come from somewhere and can't you just see Crowley showing up at the bookshop with that ring? Not exactly a proposal because they can't so it's just for practicality, just when he goes out while he's pregnant, just for safety, etc..

How long did Aziraphale keep it before he passed it down to their family? Did Maggie get it from one of her relatives or did Aziraphale maybe pretend he found some of her great-grandmother's things when cleaning out some old papers of his relatives in the bookshop one day?

There's also Maggie wearing two chains around her neck all the time and one of them being a wedding ring at the same time as there's also her paralleling great-everything, Crowley, who has been wearing the same tied knot necklace everyday since sometime after same-sex civil partnerships became legal in England.

Loved the things you brought in about the stuff on the necklaces! Lots to ponder there. Toucans, for whatever reason, also have had a demonic association in history. People were kind of afraid of them at times and said they contained the spirits of demons, as people often say about things they don't understand. There's also some etymology tied to one of their alternate names that translates as "beak of the fish", which is pretty Crowley & Aziraphale.

The "all-seeing eye" in a heart is a good luck and protection charm said to ward off evil and it's also an image that sometimes is part of a fuller picture where the all-seeing eye in heart is in a fruit tree. Very Crowley & Aziraphale again.

I still think the freemasonry is more of a wordplay thing because of how it's used in the Gabriel scene in The Resurrectionist. A mason is a builder, one who works to make things out of stone, but you can build both your own trap just as much as you build your own life. A free mason is one who is designing their own path and Gabriel was doing that in that scene. He is a free mason, even if he's not a Freemason. Eden & Aziraphale & the stone wall, the brick through the bookshop; burning down the M-25; recognizing that Gabriel is more than the stone statue of himself. Something about recognizing freedom through recognizing one another-- the all-seeing eye as part of the theme of recognition more than a conspiratorial thing.

I loved the plants you brought up with heart-shaped leaves. Silphium mention! Lotus plants have them, too. There is also an etymology connection there, too. The words leaf, leave, lief, belief, believe, etc. all share a root and have overlapping history with the word love. We're sitting on edge of a scene in which Crowley and Aziraphale first kissed under the leaves of a tree canopy that etymologically are interwoven with love because of course we are. 😊

I'm curious, What do you think Aziraphale and Crowley were doing during The Great Depression??

Wading their way through great depressions of a more personal nature, brought on by giving away their infant child-- Maggie's eventual grandmother-- to be adopted and raised by a human couple.

I mean, you want me to believe that Aziraphale let a random human woman start a record shop in his bookshop in the heyday of records when shops like that were crazy busy? The same Aziraphale who opens the bookshop for fifteen minutes every other Wednesday? 😂 The one whose bookshop is really a cover for his house and is also an angelic embassy... he can't have some human woman running another shop in there! And why ever would he when he owns the land for most of the street? Wouldn't he just get this woman her own retail space on the street, like he has been helping people do for centuries?

Then, there's that Aziraphale thinks it possible that Maggie should be able to sense the arrival of the angels the same way that he does. This can't just be because Maggie is musically-inclined. I mean... he thinks she might be able to hear or feel the angels arriving...

Presumably, that'd only be possible if Maggie's lineage involved angels... which is then when it might become notable that our lovely Maggie looks like if you gave Aziraphale Crowley's nose and mouth.

The record shop got started in the bookshop in the 1920s, alright... probably on some rainy night when a pair of old lovers who also happened to be supernatural human entities felt in the mood for the kind of love that could, technically, begin a whole other shop. They got a bit of a surprise when, a few weeks later, Aziraphale started being even more nauseous at daybreak than he usually is.

Aziraphale having Crowley's child in the late 1920s might also help to explain why he canonically developed a side hustle at some point where he was a music tutor. Yes, we know he loves music, but what better way to have an excuse to see their child without them ever knowing who he was than to be their music teacher? What better way to then happen to be in their world to eventually suggest when they became an adult that they might like to open a record shop in the spot next to the bookshop? You know that Crowley would pretend he wouldn't want to get too attached but would be subtly watching over their family just as much as Aziraphale.

There's also that Maggie already knows Crowley in S2. We never see a scene of them being introduced but, when Crowley is sent to fetch her for The Meeting Ball, it's established that she knows him and also established that her context for knowing him is that she sees him as Aziraphale's person, which he's aware of, as it's his dialogue ("he says to tell you...") that illustrates this. Crowley's already met Maggie before and there's this whole short scene where one of the main purposes of its existence seems to be just to show us that:

We think that no one on Whickber Street but for Mrs. Sandwich really knows about Crowley and Aziraphale but that's not quite true-- it seems like Maggie also does. Presumably, Maggie knowing that Mr. Fell is seeing The Ginger Goth (in addition to entertaining naked Don Draper stripadeliveragrams before he's even finished his morning coffee lol) is one of the reasons why she asked him for advice after feeling like she'd failed to connect with Nina.

Based on how Maggie later seems to think that Nina could be correct in her assessment of Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship, Maggie likely doesn't know the extent of it. She adores Aziraphale and knows that he's seeing Crowley but she also thinks they're human and clearly has no idea about their real history, let alone how she fits into it.

Maggie and Nina seem to see Crowley and Aziraphale as queer humans in their 50s who grew up in more closeted times, are commitment-phobic, and are secretly in love with each other but don't know how to get beyond being casual lovers. They're like maybe if we give them a push, they'll confess that they're in love!

Like this would be new information to Crowley and Aziraphale...

It went really well. Didn't give Bildad a migraine or anything. 😂

That fond, loving way that Aziraphale looks at Maggie... I mean... she's not just his favorite of the local shopkeepers. That's affection for Maggie in her own right, yes, but it's also such an oh, just look at the lovely person my love and I made look. It's the happiest Aziraphale looks all season.

#good omens #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #ineffable husbands speak #etymology #maggie good omens

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gellavonhamster · 5 months ago

Text

the wolf and the moon

Turn: Washington's Spies || Caleb Brewster/Benjamin Tallmadge || unspecified fantasy/magic AU ao3 link eng || this was first written and published on ao3 in Russian in 2017 but I didn’t attempt to translate it into English back then.

You must not be afraid of the changes that I've made

I have come now to bring you away

To our bed that I have made with the seven stones I've laid

And covered in the finest of clay

Lay your head upon the ground, you shall never be found

I will guard against dangers that be

Until dawn comes around you must not make a sound

And I swear you will forever be with me

(Birch Book – Werewolf’s Eyes)

Looking back, Ben is utterly angry at himself for not catching on to what was happening to him until it was too late.

First he notices all smells become sharper. Gunpowder, sweat, horse dung, damp earth, campfire smoke, hair pomade. Hundreds of smells that were not as distinct before surround him in a smothery cloud that seems dense enough to spoon it up like fat broth. Ben frowns, dizzy with this suffocating mixture, and steals furtive glances at the others, trying to find out if they feel the same, but everyone is acting like everything’s normal. He does not dare to ask, suspecting how strange that would sound. The other officers keep their guard up with him as it is – sure, he’s well-mannered and all, but still, heaven knows what to expect from those magicians.

On the last night before the full moon, he blows out a candle in his tent, and suddenly realizes he can see perfectly in the dark. Then he begins to understand – although just what, not how. If he was bitten, he would have remembered it – or would he not? Leave it to Rogers and his men to wipe out his memories. Everyone knows his unit is made up of only those endowed with at least middling witchcraft powers. It is for this reason that much later Ben is so surprised to find out that Jordan – that is, Akinbode – has joined the ranks of Rangers. It is odd and upsetting to know that all those years someone else in Setauket was able to do magic apart from the four of them, and they had not the slightest idea.

It might be that the bayonet he was wounded with was soaked in something. Werewolf’s blood? Werewolf’s saliva? The next day, Ben all but runs to his tent each time he has a minute to spare and leafs through his papers frantically, his own notes and torn-out book pages alike. His command of sorcery is much poorer than imagined by most people in their army, Washington included. Compared to those who couldn’t even deal with a simple spell, he’s a magician indeed. In truth, however – and being aware of it has never made him feel as dejected before – he’s just another self-taught amateur. If what is happening to him is exactly what all the evidence suggests, then he is helpless. All he can do is steal out of the tent when it gets dark and the moon’s silver disk starts to glisten behind the clouds, and rush towards the forest. He manages to put on a smoke-and-mirrors spell so that no one notices he’s gone; at least he’s good enough for such trifles.

He makes it to the woods in time – as soon as he steps into the thicket, he convulses with excruciating pain. A bayonet is like a mosquito bite compared to that; worse, finishing off his brother in arms so as not to give himself away in front of Rogers and his band of warlocks is like a mosquito bite compared to that. It feels as if huge invisible hands are kneading him like dough and sculpting his flesh and bones into something else, ugly and unnatural. Ben struggles to keep his mouth shut, but he still screams.

Then he howls.

Then he’s racing through the woods surrounded by thousands of smells, which don’t seem as obnoxious as before, and he feels good – as good as never before, especially compared to that terrible pain earlier. The moss is springy under his paws and the air is fresh, and the blood of the hare he caught is hot and tastes better than any food he’s ever tried. There is no trace of the fear that has weighed down on him that entire day. How could he be afraid of this?

But when he wakes up at dawn in the depths of the forest completely naked, shivering with cold, his human face smeared with blood, the fear returns.

And the night after it proves itself justified.

***

After the second night, Ben returns to the camp, slips into his tent, falls down on his knees and howls and howls more than he did at night in honour of the full moon.

He has only vague memories of what happened. A dark silhouette sneaking through the woods. A jump, a loud cry, the cracking of neck vertebrae. A blue uniform torn to pieces. A warm throat in his maw. All of it blurred, befuddling; an unpleasant dream right before waking up. But what he saw in the morning he remembers clearly – and will never forget.

He’s not throwing up. He’s choking on tears, he’s shaking with disgust, but he’s not throwing up at all. God, why isn’t he throwing up from the thought of having gorged himself of human flesh last night?

Ben forces himself to get up. His body moves as if by itself – and is it his own anymore, really? Or is the only body he inhabits now that of a wolf, for which that nightmare is just another hunt, and not the most heinous crime imaginable? He keeps looking around the tent dully, until he understands that the thing he needs, the only thing that can save him and the others, is already at hand.

He cocks the pistol and puts it to his temple.

“No!”

An unseen force wrenches the pistol from his hand and throws it into the corner. A shot rings out – in vain.

“You shot a hole through my wall,” Ben says, tired. He doesn’t turn around; he can’t look Caleb in the eye, not after what he did last night. But Caleb is beside him in a blink of an eye, grabs his hand painfully, and makes him turn around – and then he has to look.

Ben isn’t sure he’s ever seen Caleb in such rage before.

“Screw you, Tallboy,” Caleb spits out wrathfully, looking up at him. “Have you lost your mind? What the hell was that?!”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s easier just to blow your brains out, right? Ben,” the tone of his voice changes, and so does his look, and now Caleb is looking at him with a desperate plea and fear and concern, and Ben wants to push him away and shout at him leave, I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve a single drop of your worry, leave. “What’s going on?”

Ben wants to push him away – and yet he cannot.

“You’re going to hate me if I tell you.”

“No,” Caleb says firmly.

That’s what I fear, Ben thinks.

When he comes to the part about him killing someone – no, not just killing but half-devouring him, tearing him to pieces to the point of barely being able to make out the face in the morning, not a familiar one yet still striking horror and grief into him – he realizes he’s crying again. Ben wipes off his tears with his sleeve violently, hoping that Caleb doesn’t think he’s asking for pity. Pity he does not deserve. All he deserves is the pistol, now picked up off the ground and lying on the table, in wait for its hour. Ben knows what he’s going to ask of Caleb when he finishes his story. Ben is tormented by an almost complete certainty that Caleb will refuse him.

“We-e-ell,” drawls out Caleb when Ben is done. He was listening with uncharacteristic sobriety, but with no apparent fear, and that is wrong. He ought to be scared. “What was that poor devil even doing in the woods at night…”

“Caleb, what’s the difference?”

“Was he tryin’ to desert or what?”

“What. Is. The difference?” Ben draws back and stares at his friend with outrage. “What of it if he was? Even had it been a redcoat – Caleb, I bit a man to death! Tore out his throat like he was a rabbit!”

“Hush,” Caleb raises up both hands as if trying to shield himself from Ben’s voice. “Quit yelling. Here, drink,” he fishes a flat flask of Madeira out of the inside pocket of his coat, and pushes it into Ben’s hands.

“Right,” he begins as Ben drinks, gagging and coughing. “So we have to figure out what to do with that trouble of yours.”

“I’ve already figured everything out, and I was trying to do just that, until you barged in.”

“And thank God I did! Ben, I won’t let you kill yourself!”

“Then you will have to kill me,” Ben retorts, and takes the pistol from the table. “In the woods, now. Let’s go.”

Caleb stares at him in horror.

“No.”

“Lieutenant Brewster,” Ben raises his voice and holds the pistol out to Caleb, “that’s an order!”

Caleb takes the pistol and throws it aside – not by magic this time, but simply by hand.

“Stick your orders where the sun don’t shine, Captain,” he replies, his chin defiantly up. “Listen to me. We’re both magicians, right? We’ll figure it out and no one will have to shoot anyone. I’ll figure it out.”

Ben is silent. He’s scared of death, because he knows for sure he’ll go to hell – a magician, even though the church has a complex stance on magic; a killer, even though everyone kills at war; a werewolf, even though not of his own volition; a sodomite, even though he hasn’t ever dared to proposition anyone. He hates himself for this weakness, but he really is scared, man and wolf inside him alike. Besides, the army needs him, Washington needs him, his friends whom he dragged into another risky business need him. Of course he would prefer to stay alive – but he doesn’t see any conditions under which it is possible without subjecting others to mortal peril.

“Trust me,” Caleb says quietly, resolutely. He stares at Ben, imploring him with his warm, always so endlessly warm eyes, and Ben gives up.

***

At night, Ben returns to the forest, and the wolf returns home.

He throws off the scruples of conscience together with his former appearance. Only a tiny part remains, caught on that scrap of human sentience that still remains with him. That scrap causes him pain, but it also brings him hope – hope that strong as the wolf might be, it cannot beat Benjamin Tallmadge. He’s still here, with his guilt and his fear and his remorse, and he has no intention to leave this head.

But the wolf’s hunger is strong, and now, when the wolf has already partaken of human flesh, it’s all the more dangerous.

The camp is asleep. Only the sentries are walking to and fro, small figures barely distinguishable from the edge of the woods. Ben – no, the wolf, that’s all wolf – looks at them and makes a step forward.

A noise behind his back makes him turn around.

It’s a bear. Not the biggest there is, but undoubtedly still bigger than him. Ben bares his fangs, but is in no hurry to run away. It is the first time he sees this bear, the first time he sees any bear, but this one smells like something very familiar, something like home, and for the wolf it is enough not to be afraid of it.

The bear approaches him, extends a foreleg the way a person would extend a hand to point at something, and growls as if calling him somewhere. Ben turns to look at the sentries again.

The bear growls louder and gently nudges him with its paw, and Ben gives up.

Together they disappear deep into the woods, and then they hunt down a big deer, and its meat tastes almost as good as the meat of that young man – deserter or not – that Ben recently murdered.

When Ben wakes up as a man, he realizes two things. The first is that at night he managed to return closer to the camp, because the gnarled oak under which he’s lying is well familiar to him.

The second is that someone’s lying by his side, hugging him at the small of his back.

Ben detaches himself, pushing off the hugging arm, and sits up abruptly.

“Caleb,” and of course it’s Caleb, naked and muddy like him, with leaves and tiny twigs in his hair and beard. “Caleb, wake up!”

“Why are you yellin’, why d’ya always have to yell?” Caleb mutters drowsily, and bats Ben’s hand away when Ben tries to shake him by the shoulder. At last he opens his eyes and sits up too. “Morning, Benny.”

“Morning?” Ben is positively at a loss. He certainly doesn’t like the most obvious explanation – that is, that Caleb followed him through the woods last night, at the risk of being mauled by a beast that does not care who Benjamin Tallmadge’s closest childhood friends are. “Caleb, how did you get here? How did you find me? Did you go after me last night or what?”

“Yeah,” Caleb shrugs, stretches, and gets up, and Ben does his utmost to look away. Caleb pulls clothes, his own and Ben’s, from a hole beneath the oak roots, and throws him his shirt. “Spent all night with you, don’t you remember?”

When it dawns upon Ben, he is halfway through putting his shirt on, and his sudden shudder almost results in him tearing it.

“You’re out of your mind,” he hisses, leaps to his feet too, and grabs Caleb by the shirt. If someone catches them like that – away from the camp, scantily clad – it won’t be easy to explain themselves, but this is not what he’s worried about at present. “I thought you promised to figure out how to stop the wolf!”

“And I did,” Caleb replies nonchalantly, struggling to pry Ben’s fingers away from his sleeve.

“By becoming the same thing as I?!”

“I’m not the same thing, Ben! You were turned, I turned myself. You become a wolf, I keep a man’s mind in a bear’s body. A curious ritual, I learned about it in Canada,” Caleb covers his hand with his own and grins with delight. “Was eager to try it out for some time, see if I could handle it.”

Ben could say a lot about Caleb’s flippant attitude towards magic, but he has long understood that in some cases, it is no use wasting his breath.

“And how is this going to help up?” is all he asks.

Caleb smiles. Every time it gives him laughter lines; this mirth is going to make him all wrinkles when he grows old.

“Weren’t you lickin’ your lips at the sentries last night? But you didn’t go to them. You went with me. I’m stronger and bigger, I can hold you back if needed,” he gives Ben’s shoulder a friendly slap. “As long as I’m with you, you won’t hurt anybody.”

No, thinks Ben, but if neither you nor I are strong enough to resist our respective beast, there will be even more victims.

***

Strange as it may be, it works out. From one full moon to another, their lives are nearly the same as before – the military affairs, the spy ring business, magic-related or not. The bear guards the wolf against hunting in the camp of the Continental Army. Lieutenant Brewster guards Captain – now Major – Tallmadge against going mad with self-loathing and self-abhorrence.

Nathaniel Sackett, a seasoned magician, gets to the bottom of it at once.

“You need a suitable amulet, young man,” he says, looking over Ben with the curiosity of a scientist who has caught a peculiar bird. “Then it will be easier for you to control yourself. You’ll even be able not to depend on the full moon and transform whenever it is convenient for you. Like your friend here.”

“Convenient?” Ben echoes, frowning. “It will never be ‘convenient’ for me, sir. It is not about my convenience, but about the safety of others.”

“But you could be useful on the battlefield in this, hmm, capacity.” Sackett doesn’t seem to notice Ben’s indignation. “Haven’t it occurred to you?”

“No,” lies Ben.

Sackett clicks his tongue. “I’ll see what could be done.”

“He’s insane,” whispers Ben in frustration, when Sackett leaves to meet Washington.

Caleb shrugs. “All magicians are a bit out there,” he points out philosophically. “Just look at the two of us. Though we clearly have a long way to go compared to him.”

“Oh, it’s all fun to you, isn’t it? You furry blockhead.”

“No furrier than you,” Caleb replies good-naturedly.

If it was not for his cheerful nature and eternal unshakeable faith in them being able to get through it all, the wolf would have long gnawed down Benjamin Tallmadge’s soul.

***

The amulet that Sackett hands him looks like a flower or an open pine cone – petals made of different species of wood, and a silver core.

“Put it around your neck on the full moon. And don’t you dare take it off even if it hurts. And it will hurt,” he instructs. “Concentrate on the memories of home, family, friends, loved ones – everything that makes you human. Brewster shall watch over you. I believe it sensible for him to do that in his bear form, to be on the safe side.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ben says ardently as he takes the pendant.

The first night of the full moon, he doesn’t succeed. The amulet hurts him indeed – like pressing a hot iron to his chest. Ben musters all his strength, but in the end he cannot bear it, and tears the pendant off. On his chest, a red print remains. That night he howls at the moon desperately, and Caleb lies in a pit and watches him and waits patiently for him to cry it all out.

The following night, Caleb ties him to a tree.

“Are you sure?” he asks for the last time.

Ben snarls.

The moon comes out, and the amulet bites into his skin, into the still-raw yesterday’s burn. Caleb shucks off his clothes and shapeshifts. Ben still cannot get used to how awful the transformation appears to an onlooker – the body mashed and spread and bent, the limbs twisting unnaturally, the fur growing out in an instant. Ben is well familiar with the kind of pain Caleb is experiencing, but even it seems like nothing compared to the one caused by the amulet.

Sackett told him: when he subdues the wolf, the pain will cease.

Sackett told him: keep thinking of what makes you human.

Through pain, Ben reminisces his father and his late mother, his brothers, their sweet old house and the neat small church in Setauket. The memories of home seem like the memories of a past life; none of this exists anymore. The British soldiers sit in their church. Samuel is dead. Nathan, whom he also reminisces, whom he could never forget, is dead as well.

The silver burns his skin, the tree bark scratches even through the shirt, and the wolf inside him howls in pain. It is hard to focus on anything but pain, yet he tries.

Father. Abe. Anna. Washington.

Happy New Year, Tallboy.

Caleb, his sleepy smile, the warmth by his side, the arm on his waist.

I won’t let you kill yourself.

Ben screams until he suddenly realizes that the pain has passed. The bear lying next to him raises his head and nuzzles against his thigh.

The night after, he stares at the moon with human eyes, the amulet pleasantly cooling his chest.

***

Little by little, he learns – not only to trap the beast inside, but also to let it out when it is his own wish, not that of the skies above. When the moon isn’t full, the hunger isn’t as strong, and he need not fear that his feet – his paws – would bring him to the camp; not that Caleb would let that happen, anyway. What he is the most afraid of is losing the amulet in the thicket; he keeps Sackett’s notes, in which it is explained, among other useful things, how to make one, but that would require a long time and a variety of materials that would be hard to come by.

Little by little, he learns to accept that he likes it – the quiet of the woods, the moonlight, the wind singing in his ears, the delicious night air, clear as spring water. The thrill of the hunt and the lazy bliss of fullness. Falling asleep with his nose pressed into the coarse brown fur; waking up with his cheek pressed against Caleb’s chest. Something completely unthinkable and still completely natural, as if someone decided way before they were born that they would sleep best like that – nestled up to each other, not a scrap of clothes between them, the all-forgiving starlight above.

Sometimes Ben is grateful to Rogers for cursing him.

Once, having woken up at sunrise, he goes through the memories of the past night – now that his animal form is subject to the amulet, it is much easier to restore them. They killed a deer and feasted on the hot meat, and then fell down to the ground, sated and tired. The bear tumbled on his back spread-eagle, rolling about funnily and flattening the moss. The wolf climbed on top of him and nipped at his nose. Both had snouts and paws covered in blood, and they licked each other for a long time, played like pups, until the wolf fell asleep and the bear must’ve fallen asleep after him.

Ben, having carefully disentangled himself from Caleb, gazes at him and thinks absentmindedly that the dark hair on his chest and belly looks like animal fur. And that the wolf has already fallen asleep, retreated into the farther corner of his mind, and yet he still wants to lick.

Ben has no idea if beasts are prone to the same sin as some men, including him, but he knows that a wolf cannot and would not think of mating with a bear. The shade their night-time games acquire in his eyes does not come from the wolf, which cannot tell right from wrong. It comes from Benjamin Tallmadge, reverend’s son, the honorary virgin of the entire Continental Army, who’d rather die than admit why he never joined his fellows on a visit to a brothel. He remembers Caleb telling him that the ritual lets him keep a human mind in a beast’s body. Ben is not sure it is still so; Caleb turned without him present several times, stayed alone with the bear, and sometimes Ben worries that confident in his power, he might succumb to his second nature entirely. Still, what Ben would like to know most of all is what Caleb the bear, or Caleb the man in a bear’s frame, thought when he ran his rough tongue over Ben’s belly.

He daren’t ask, but in the evening, when they already can sleep peacefully in the camp because the moon has begun to wane, he comes to Caleb’s tent. The candle is blown out, but Caleb, who is now able to see in the dark perfectly well, like Ben, is still awake.

“Tallboy, what is it?” Caleb asks anxiously when Ben enters and carefully closes the tent flaps. “Has something happened?”

Ben steps up to him, heart beating so wildly as if it is going to break out of his body, and tilts his head to lick Caleb’s neck, animal-like, and then kisses him on the lips, as people do.

Caleb sighs loudly, his eyes closed, and leans to kiss him back.

He growls, leaning on Ben with all his weight on the cot too narrow for two, and Ben bites Caleb’s shoulder when he comes, but apart from that they have no reason to blame all that on the animals in their heads.

That night, Ben presses his snout – no, his face – to Caleb’s neck, and sleeps even more soundly than in the open air.

***

Gradually, the truth comes out. Not all of it, fortunately; not about the two of them. And not about Ben, in contrast to Caleb, being turned against his will, not being able to control the beast at first, and tearing a fellow soldier to pieces on top of that. Everyone believes Ben made the decision to turn in order to become a more dangerous foe to the British army. Washington thinks so. Everyone thinks so. Ben is in no hurry to change their minds.

On the battlefield, both of them are of more use on two feet, with weapons and spells ready, but a couple of times, when ambush is required, they face the enemy in their other bodies. This is enough for the British to start talking about them. As Ben learns from Townsend, casting a spell to communicate with him through a bowl of water (at the end of the conversation, Townsend, icily polite, asks him if he could henceforth warn him somehow before appearing in his washbasin – if it is not too much trouble, of course), the blue-eyed wolf even gains some grand nicknames in the enemy camp. The General’s Cerberus, Washington’s Hellhound. The fact that Ben, lofty manner notwithstanding, is still considered to be a dog is insufferably amusing to Caleb. The latter, however, is not accorded anything more sophisticated than the Shaggy Devil or the Hairy Devil or similar variations on the theme of the devil and bears. Ben likes to respond to Caleb’s dog-related teasing by saying that Caleb’s human appearance is as deserving of these names as the animal one, if not more.

In the camp, they’re respected, yet given a wide berth – both of them, even the ever jovial Caleb, and that continues when Anna joins them. The soldiers are intrigued by her, but also intimidated – which is not unwise, to be fair, considering she’s always been the most skilled magician among the four of them. Washington’s coven, soldiers whisper. A witch and two warlocks – only Abe is missing from the set.

Ben is glad Anna is with them – not just because he needn’t worry she might get in trouble away from her friends, but also because they need a safeguard. He’s reached an understanding with his wolf, and Caleb has been in tune with his bear from the start, but at the end of the day they are still wild beasts. He makes Anna a copy of the instruction on how to make the amulet from Sackett’s notes, and tells her to always keep a pistol with at least two silver bullets at hand to stop him or Caleb if worst comes to worst. Or (he doesn’t say that, though) to stop Caleb first and then, regardless of circumstances, him. An amulet is an amulet, but Ben cannot shake off the feeling that the lion’s share of his control over the beast is tied to Caleb’s presence.

He has heard somewhere that wolves mate for life anyway.

“I just hope I won’t have to use it,” says Anna with a sad smile, accepting the pistol.

“You won’t have to,” Caleb says with confidence and hugs her by the shoulders. “It’ll be alright.”

Ben looks at them, and the wolf in his head curls up snugly and falls asleep.

#more old stuff. this time it's the last i think #does it count as cannibalism if a werewolf eats a person while being a wolf? asking for a friend #turn amc #turn #turn: washington's spies #tallster #ben tallmadge #caleb brewster #my fic #gella talks turn #talk talk talk #this fic is so much sillier than i remember. no research just vibes. but i started translating it so i had to finish

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