#we won’t survive this lads

[mediumtires]

oh my god it’s happening guys. it’s happening

[cerise-on-top]

ITS MEEEE HIHIIII :DDDD

Can we getttt

Valeria, Soap, König and Price with a s/o who's a medic? or someone who does like navy stuff in the military with them ? pretty pleaseee

okay thank you buh bye :3

-☁️

Hello again! I did the medic request! I hope it's alright!

Price, Soap, Valeria and König with a Medic!Reader

Price: Oh, poor you, you’ll likely be overrun with work. Price knows you’re competent, that you know what you do, and thus you’ll likely be assigned all of his rowdy boys. It’s not uncommon for Soap to get hurt doing who knows what, so he often needs to be patched up. Same for Gaz. Those two will likely become patrons of yours. Price does also believe that you getting along well with those two would be a good thing, though. After all, you’ll be protected and the lads will get patched up. However, if you complain about getting too many injured people, he’ll tell the boys to go somewhere else for the time being. Every time Price gets hurt, however, he will ask to see you. Yes, he is an adult and can take not being babied by you just once, but he becomes a bit grouchy when another medic takes care of him. It’s nice to simply have your loved one take care of you. He won’t go out of his way to get hurt to see you, but if you’re working nearby he might ask you if you’d like to grab some tea or coffee with him before you both go back to doing what you do. You, too, are always welcome to knock on his office and ask to see him, he’ll try his best to make time for you. You always work so hard, you’ve earned a nice little break. If such a thing even is possible, and you wanna come along for a mission, he’d be hesitant. Don’t get me wrong, Price loves you and he knows he and his boys are in good hands with you, but he’ll make the world stop turning entirely if something were to happen to you. Thus, even if you insist on coming along, he’ll simply give you a kiss on your forehead and sternly tell you to stay. Don’t argue with him, he’ll always find ways to get you to stay. In the end, you’ll both just end up worried for each other, no matter what.

Soap: He’s kind of stoked to find out you’re a medic for his Task Force. Soap is a diligent guy, but he can also be a bit reckless at times, ergo it’s not so uncommon for him to get hurt. Sometimes the rookies just need to be shown who’s boss, other times Ghost needs to finally realize that Soap is stronger than he looks. Sometimes Soap will hurt himself for no other reason than wanting to see you. It’s nothing severe, sometimes he’ll come see you for a cut on his finger and joke about how he’s bleeding to death, consciousness fading already. Give him a bandaid and a kiss to his forehead and he’ll be on his merry way, claiming to have found a miracle healer every time. He’s so in love with you, he makes it everyone’s problem. His, yours, Ghost’s, even Gaz keeps hearing about your “magic spells” (a kiss on his wound). You and Gaz will also become good friends throughout your career, Soap and him always spar with each other, go overboard and end up hurt. Please scold the both of them, they won’t listen to a word you said, but they’re more inclined to be careful than if Ghost were to say something. Sometimes Soap likes to compare you to fictional medics he’s heard of. And yes, he has asked you to speak in a silly German accent before. It cracks him up every time you make a reference to Medic from TF2. If you ever were to join him on a mission he would be as stoked as he’d be horrified. On the one hand, everyone gets to see how cool you are, on the other you might get shot and not survive. That’s a risk he’s not particularly willing to take. Yes, he would consult Price about it and maybe tip the scales in his favor so you won’t have to join him after all. He’d rather die himself than have you die on the battlefield. You can argue with him all you want, he’ll always say Captain’s orders if you ever wanna come along. Losing you is the worst thing that could happen to him, so he’ll do what he can to keep you alive.

Valeria: Once she figured out you’re a medic, which was likely very early on, you’ll be the only one to ever treat her wounds. She’ll likely also be the only patient you’ll ever see. Her goons can have someone else, someone less guarded who she couldn’t actually care less about. You’re all hers, you’re safe and sound with her, kinda, and you’ll make sure she does well in return. It’s a constant give and take with her. You can chat with the others if you so please, but you’re not supposed to say that you’re a medic, no matter how badly you want to help someone. Some dick could plot revenge against Valeria by taking you out first, and she will not have that happen. At best, you don’t work for her at all and work somewhere else, even if that would make seeing each other a bit more difficult. As long as you’re not working for the Mexican Special Forces, she’s content with you working just about anywhere. However, please do help her whenever you can. You’ll be the only one she trusts with just about anything medical. She has some knowledge about it herself, but yours surpasses hers. You can stitch her up all you want, as long as she’s able to walk again after a while, she’s happy. While she won’t ask and whine for one, she would appreciate it as well if you gave her a small kiss on her (not severe) wound. But only if the two of you are alone, no one needs to know you’re together. You can insist on coming along all you want, you won’t. Valeria will chuckle a bit, put your face in her hands, and tell you all the good reasons why you won’t be coming along. Absolutely no one needs to know who you are, no one needs to know in which way you’re affiliated with her. If Valeria dies on the battlefield, that’s one thing, but they won’t take you along with her, dead or alive. Your chances of coming along are zero because she’s the boss and she gets to decide who lives and who dies. You’ll live for as long as possible.

König: He’d probably be a bit surprised to see you on a KorTac base just like that, helping out. But he wouldn’t mind you being there. Like Soap and Price, if he gets injured he’ll ask to see you, even if he won’t exactly disclose what your relationship is either. You know each other, that’s all everyone else needs to know. He’d use this time to catch up with you, chat with you about anything and everything. More often than not, König is on the battlefield, risking his life for money, so it’s nice to get some downtime for once and not have to worry about getting shot. Although he knows you’re likely busy, he will try to stall for some time whenever he can, he doesn’t get to see you that often, after all. König doesn’t get hurt very often, but whenever he does, it’s usually something pretty bad. He doesn’t complain about the pain, he doesn’t whine about it either, he simply gets it treated after the mission is over. He’s broken a lot of his bones already, but they’ve healed every time. He’s not reckless per se, just not always very lucky. Most of his injuries come from his surroundings rather than his enemies. He’ll never forget the panicked look on your face when he came to you almost nonchalantly, hiding his pain as some shrapnel was stuck in his shoulder. This man’s body is littered with scars. Just take good care of him, and you’ll have yourself a happy little soldier, though. Unlike the other three, he doesn’t really see the problem with you tagging along for a mission. A good medic is always needed, no matter where you are. Sure, he’s well aware you could die, but he’s confident enough in himself to be able to protect you. Besides, you’re trustworthy and good at what you do, they’ll always need you. Just be prepared for König to be a bit clingier with you than he usually is. While he isn’t as worried about you dying, he is aware of the risks. Stays with you until the mission is over, or until another soldier he knows he can trust, such as Horangi, has come to cover you.

[ruiniel]

What You Choose

Fandom: Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba

Pairing: Rengoku Kyojuro x f!reader

Count: 2K

Rating: T (M later)

Part I

Summary: Rengoku survives the fight with Akaza, but some battles are not so straightforward.

Tags & Warnings: Rengoku lives AU, blood, injury, death, pining, angst, second person POV, demon slayer!reader, tsuguko!reader, Rengoku POV, eventual smut

Author Note: I am not OK and will never be OK about *waves hands* all that, so this is now a multichapter story.

II.

“Once again, you’re a guest in my healing ward.”

Kocho Shinobu speaks softly, as is her manner. She's seated by his bed with the afternoon sun shining gently on her features, highlighting the amethyst in her hair and eyes.

“I seem to be the only one,” Rengoku replies, looking at the empty infirmary. He’s still bedbound and can barely move his limbs. It hurts to breathe more often than not, and there’s a dull ache where his left eye used to be.

Her kind smile never falters as Kocho looks at the liquid in the syringe she’s preparing. Rengoku always admired her decision to honor her late sister this way, by holding on to that smile Kanae loved so much. After all, everyone has a keepsake of their loved ones in their heart, driving them forward. Memories, moments, words that hone one’s spirit and meld with determination, acting as a guiding light in the darkest places. He knows this all too well. 

“At least you won’t be lonely during your convalescence, those three have been coming here every day, even before you’d awoken.” She giggles, seeking a vein in his arm. 

Oh, of course… young Kamado… the boar lad, the yellow-haired boy. All of them gifted, resilient, and unwavering. He’d promised to train them, but…

That was… before. 

Another image appears before his mind’s eye, drenched in fog—you, running towards him. He, ordering you not to interfere. “Kocho. Tell me, please. How long before I can leave this bed? What is lost, what can I regain?” 

She sets the used syringe aside on a tray, then places her hands on her knees. “My, my, impatient already?” 

Rengoku tries a smile of his own, though it hurts the muscles in his face. If not for the strong sedatives and painkillers administered to him since he regained consciousness, he imagines he’d be squirming in pain. “I want to self-assess myself. Besides…I have promises to keep.” 

She understands. He knows she does. The Insect Hashira gazes out the window, and a small sigh leaves her chest. “Your fatal injuries have been healed by the peculiar blood demon art of young Kamado’s sister.”

He nods. Remarkable. He thought that would be his last battle, and he’d have passed without regret into the land of Yomi. Nevertheless, his gratitude is boundless.

“... your muscle and organ tissue has regenerated and there was no internal bleeding. However, there is still some damage to several vertebrae in your spine, severe trauma to your head I’ve not fully assessed yet, and you have eight fractured ribs.”

“Hah, I can feel them, too! I miscalculated by one, I thought there were seven.”

She looks his way, with that odd expression people sometimes have when he sounds unreasonably high-spirited. He supposes not everyone shares the same outlook, and that’s all well. But what use is there to bow down in dismay and accept the worst life throws my way? 

“Your left eye was smashed, and irrecoverable,” Kocho goes on. “We removed it with surgery and placed an implant inside to fill the empty eye socket. The recovery period in these cases is typically a year, as now you must adapt to your monocular status. But this also depends on the individual, and… this might mean alterations to your fighting style, of course.” She rises and picks up the tray. “I’m convinced that with time, you can return to a state allowing you to perform your duties. For now, please rest, that is a foremost priority.”

My friend, you know all too well that time is never on a demon slayer’s side. “Thank you, Kocho.”  She is right, though: he does feel exhausted, as though he’d climbed a mountain without rest or ever reaching the summit. Expected, though bothersome.

“We’ll do our best to help your recovery. Aoi will return later to change your bandages,” Kocho adds.

Rengoku turns his head as Kocho greets someone on her way out, and sees you, standing in the doorway. “Hello.”

“Hello.”

“You heard?”

You nod, nearing the bed. “Ms. Kocho told me of it all while you were asleep.”

“I’m sorry.”

You tilt your head in bemusement. “What ever for?”

“Because, I won’t be able to help with your training for a while.”

You’ve been at his side often. While in a coma, even if he couldn’t react, even if his body wouldn’t listen, he knew you were there. The thought is a warm one, a foreign sensation: different from the heat bursting in his body during a fight. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to your visits even now, to see how you’re faring, to hear the latest news on the Corps.

“No,” your voice brings him out of his thoughts, “but that does mean I can help you. When you’re ready, that is,” you add quickly. “With rehabilitation training.” 

“Of course!” The fatigue in his body is stubborn, clinging to him like heavy wet wool. “And… I don’t believe I’ve told you this yet: I’m happy you returned safely.”

You look away, appearing utterly miserable. It confuses him. Rengoku’s seen that shadow in his father’s eyes countless times, so often he can’t stand it: self-loathing.

“Forgive me, Master. I should have been able to do more, after all you strived to teach me. I… I could barely be of any use.”

But you were there, you helped protect all those people. You did your part. “You were unflinching, fast, and aided those who needed it precisely like I taught you. You are rank Kinoe, and what's your demon kill count?”

“Thirty-two.”

“There… now that I think about it, even without further guidance from me or anyone else, you’ll make Hashira soon! Our numbers are dwindling while demon activity increases. You’ve seen it. This is a struggle that needs all of us.” Rengoku pauses. The word ‘need’ felt odd coming from his mouth. But the statement is true. Why does it feel incomplete when he says it to your face?

You look down at your hands. “How can you do it?”

He blinks, frowning. “Do what?”

“Be so supportive and encouraging even when you’re lying broken in an infirmary bed. Sometimes… sometimes you are so very strange, Master.”

You do say that to him often, though less so than before. A smile trembles on your lips—it took you a long time to smile again, he recalls. 

“I merely speak the truth…” He can barely stay awake. The slow drip of liquid in the IV infusion is magnified, drowning out all other sounds, and your face becomes hazy as he drifts away.

Three years prior

The path of blood leads straight into the farmhouse, looking as though someone had been dragged inside by force.

His eyes narrow, and he centers his breaths as he walks forward with his blade drawn. The silence of the glade is eerie, the reek of decay nauseating in the heat of this humid summer.

Soon, he stands on the threshold. Two, there might be two of them. Near the farmhouse is a toolshed, he’ll look there next. Rengoku covers his mouth with his sleeve, eyes closing in pain.

The bodies lie there, some with scattered limbs. This was a family, no doubt about it. The brutality of the mutilation makes his stomach turn, but Rengoku steels his resolve, extending his senses for any hint of the entity’s presence: there is none. He sheathes his katana and enters the space proper. Three hours until dawn.

He descends to one knee, finding the fireplace in the middle is out, but the ashes are still warm. The tatami mats are sticky and stained dark. This all transpired recently. He reaches out a hand, touches an inert arm: not yet cold. Too late, I am too late. But I’ll find you, wherever you are, you damn beasts. 

It’s only due to his reflexes, honed with endless hours of training, that he turns around fast enough, leaping backward before the descending attack.

At first, he thinks it’s the demon, his katana at the ready.

“Don’t you dare touch them!” 

He pauses, nearly too late in avoiding the second strike. A girl’s voice, a human’s heartbeat. His arm shoots out, catching the wooden staff in a strong grip. 

You’re panting, eyes wild and glimmering in the moonlit night. “Let—go!”

“Wait, I’m not an enemy!” he says, taking a better look at you, still holding your makeshift weapon even as you try to wrest it from his hand. 

“How do I know that! Demon!” Your voice is hoarse. Half your face is caked in drying blood, and there must be multiple injuries on your body judging by the torn clothing and the widening dark stains. 

“I’m not a demon,” he speaks calmly but urgently. “I hunt them. Please, they may still be close.”

You jerk your chin towards a corner of the room. “I had him… I don’t need you. Get out of my home!” you yell, more desperate with each word. “Get out, get out, get out!”

Another body lies there in the dark, slitted pupils dark against its milky eyes. The head had been nearly completely crushed. Rengoku freezes in disbelief. You did this? Alone? “Wait, you don’t understand, there’s another—”

A loud crash severs his words as the ceiling collapses, and he barely has time to leap forward, catch you in his arms, and throw himself outside. He rolls onto the ground, pain erupting in his left shoulder with the impact. When he opens his eyes you’re there, safely held against him, face tearstained and body rigid with shock.

But there’s no time to explain further—he feels it. The gurgle of inhuman hunger as a figure emerges from the wreckage of the farmhouse, eyes fixed on them. It does not speak, but growls in hunger; it must be of the feral kind, no reasoning left as the transformation rotted its memories. 

Rengoku rises, changing his stance. “Stand back,” he urges, looking over his shoulder at you as you struggle with your own body. He looks back ahead, grinds his teeth, his breathing attuned to his thought. 

First Form: Unknowing Fire.

It doesn’t last long. He’s been running from mission to mission, dispensing with different kinds of fiends, and this was yet another run in a long chain that will only end with his own life. 

Once the head is removed, the battle is over. Sometimes there is someone left to check on after the fact; often, there isn’t. But now, Rengoku hurries towards you, descending and slipping a hand under your back, aiding you to sit. “Where are you hurt?”

“Thank you,” you say instead, eyes glazing over. He hopes the Kakushi will get here soon. You point towards your ruined home. “Set it ablaze… please.” 

“Hey, hey, stay awake!” Rengoku urges even as your body turns heavier and your eyes roll back. 

He expected this to come. Kneeling and with his forehead pressed to the ground he sits still, prostrated before the leader of the Demon Slayer Corps. 

A voice like the lull of spring reaches him, setting his worries aside. In his heart, he thinks he’s done what is right.

“Rank Kinoe Rengoku Kyojuro, you are summoned to explain why you have brought a non-combatant to headquarters, instead of having the Kakushi transport them to a civilian hospital.”

“Master, the girl shows extraordinary potential. Her family has been murdered by demons, and yet she managed to fell one before I arrived, alone, despite grievous wounds and bloodloss. Forgive me if I overstepped, but I believe…” 

“Go on.”

“I believe once her body heals and her focus returns, she will join the fight. I believe she will want to. If I'm wrong, I accept all consequences.”

“You sound fairly convinced of this, young Rengoku,” says Ubuyashiki Kagaya. “Though there is no reason to know for certain one way or the other.”

He stays quiet, his heart raging in his chest. It will all depend on you, of course. You may want to have nothing to do with this. 

“But… you’ve not failed us thus far. I will allow it.”

“Gratitude, Master.” And then, almost in the same breath, “If she chooses this, I will guide her myself.”

TBC

[ratboyy-withtheexistentialdread]

Nevermore Chapter 97

Spoilers ahead, lads. Skedaddle if you don't fast pass. EDIT I guess I’ve said too much in this post and need to pull it back a little. So imma gonna edit it so it doesn’t say too much about this chapter.

Alright, first my reaction cause HOLY HELL those last few panels really got me like

I really had to put my phone down and talk myself through them. Now, lets talk about what I gained from this chapter and the infamous Annabel Lee. I've noticed, at least in the comment section, the fandom really doesn't care for Annabel's character and its difficult to know where the animosity has come from. Tumblr obviously loves her but us heathens support women's rights and wrongs (Don't we gents?) Many call her a sociopath or what’s happens in the last few panels. Annabel is indeed ruthless, calculating and stone cold but she obviously cares. She cares for Lenore above everything. It can be easy to see this as obsession as we really haven't seen her care about much else or even herself. But one comment on the Webtoon brought up a very valid point which I've also picked up on.

Annabel and Lenore in life were very isolated and broken people when they met one another. Annabel, broken and then rebuilt into a prim and proper lady. Lenore, broken physically and mentally and closed off from the world.

Meeting each other saved them. They were no longer alone. There was an understanding between them at least that we know of.

Their differences though is what divides them in death.

Annabel played games, and masked her true self around her father and family connections. She now makes games of situations to retain what little control she had in life over a society she knew she could never break the rules of. A Game that was always rigged against her.

Lenore rebelled against society. She fled the estate to escape a suitor, was bound to the attic and ostracized by her family, she then faked her death and posed as man to court Annabel, the one person who cared for her.

Lenore wants to break the rules of the deans Death Game. Annabel wants to follow them.

It’s all they’ve ever known.

Before it was only them that mattered. Now Lenore has so much more to fight for and Annabel still only has Lenore. Both are right in their own way of playing the game but it pains the other to witness.

Annabel, I’m sure is aware that the Deans are not all they seem to be and won’t simply allow the students to turn the tables on them if they played how Lenore wants to.

And playing Annabel’s way means the callous death of many many people that do deserve another chance at life.

Now. I do have to agree with Annabel in the sense that Lenore forgets

This is a Death Game

Right now the “villainous” characters show their true face with pride and the “hero’s” are charming and true but as we get down to the wire, it’s going to get grey. There are no good or bad at the end of these games, only survival.

Could Annabel show some restraint and more tact when speaking strategy and making plans with Lenore? Absolutely. She’s little too giddy about sweeping some pieces off the board.

Lenore also needs to stop being so naive. She saw first hand what exactly the Deans are capable of in Dreamland, it put the fear of god in her.

In fairness to both characters though they and we are still missing big pieces of what happened between them and what their causes of death were. Which could hold big aspects of their characterization.

Maybe Lenore was originally very callous about others. In life, aside from Theo and Annabel, we’ve never really seen her interact with others. Perhaps this is the Lenore Annabel speaks of.

Anyway, I’m rambling. In conclusion, I’m a bit disappointed in Nevermores comment section. I enjoy Annabel’s character although some parts do worry me a bit but I have hope Red and Flynn have plans to curve this to a satisfying reason and conclusion.

That cliffhanger, boy howdy, what the fuck is Lenore gonna do…

[pixiecactus]

i know it comes from arya barely having any self-esteem (a big fuck you to all the people who contributed to this, we actually see this little girl's thoughts about hating herself, seriously fuck you!!) but it breaks my heart to just think about how unsure arya was about robb and her mother paying her ransom.

“What if my brother doesn’t want to ransom me?” “Why would you think that?” asked Lord Beric. “Well,” Arya said, “my hair’s messy and my nails are dirty and my feet are all hard.” Robb wouldn’t care about that, probably, but her mother would. Lady Catelyn always wanted her to be like Sansa, to sing and dance and sew and mind her courtesies. Just thinking of it made Arya try to comb her hair with her fingers, but it was all tangles and mats, and all she did was tear some out. “I ruined that gown that Lady Smallwood gave me, and I don’t sew so good.” She chewed her lip. “I don’t sew very well, I mean. Septa Mordane used to say I had a blacksmith’s hands.”

she reasoned that her brother was a king now, and certainly kings have bigger things to worry about than his little sister, and then she goes self-deprecating about her appearance, when surviving in the wild as a lowborn child, with no name to keep her somehow safe and still lead a privileged life as an acceptable reason to have her own family reject her.

it saddens me, that arya will never know about how miserable robb was when her sister didn't mention any regards to arya's wellbeing in the letter she wrote, and even when her mother failed in showing and reassuring that her love for her children was inconditional to arya, catelyn still was so desperate to have her daughters back, both of them, and arya possibly will never know.

Something in Robb's tone troubled her. She smoothed out the paper and read. Concern gave way to disbelief, then to anger, and lastly to fear. "This is Cersei's letter, not your sister's," she said when she was done. "The real message is in what Sansa does not say. All this about how kindly and gently the Lannisters are treating her … I know the sound of a threat, even whispered. They have Sansa hostage, and they mean to keep her." "There's no mention of Arya," Robb pointed out, miserable. “No.” Catelyn did not want to think what that might mean, not now, not here.

even with the friends she made and lost along the way. i know that arya thinks that both boys abandoned her at the first chance they got.

There was no use trying to convince the Bull of anything. Still, he was the only true friend she had, now that Hot Pie had left them. “Sharna says she needs me to bake bread,” he’d told her, the day they rode. “Anyhow I’m tired of rain and saddlesores and being scared all the time. There’s ale here, and rabbit to eat, and the bread will be better when I make it. You’ll see, when you come back. You will come back, won’t you? When the war’s done?” He remembered who she was then, and added, “My lady,” reddening. Arya didn’t know if the war would ever be done, but she had nodded. “I’m sorry I beat you that time,” she said. Hot Pie was stupid and craven, but he’d been with her all the way from King’s Landing and she’d gotten used to him. “I broke your nose.” “You broke Lem’s too.” Hot Pie grinned. “That was good.” “Lem didn’t think so,” Arya said glumly. Then it was time to go. When Hot Pie asked if he might kiss milady’s hand, she punched his shoulder. “Don’t call me that. You’re Hot Pie, and I’m Arry.”

she saw how one of her friends made his choice and went away from her side and later, there went away the other.

“I could shoe him for you,” said Gendry, all of a sudden. “I was only a ‘prentice, but my master said my hand was made to hold a hammer. I can shoe horses, close up rents in mail, and beat the dents from plate. I bet I could make swords too.” “What are you saying, lad?” asked Harwin. “I’ll smith for you.” Gendry went to one knee before Lord Beric. “If you’ll have me, m’lord, I could be of use. I’ve made tools and knives and once I made a helmet that wasn’t so bad. One of the Mountain’s men stole it from me when we was taken.” Arya bit her lip. He means to leave me too. “You would do better serving Lord Tully at Riverrun,” said Lord Beric. “I cannot pay for your work.” “No one ever did. I want a forge, and food to eat, some place I can sleep. That’s enough, m’lord.”

from the way i see it, both boys are part of the smallfolk, both were ment to join the night's watch and both found a better chance at life. them, being lowborn will never held the same importance in westerosi society as her, even when arya is a girl/woman, currently living in a patriarchal society. both of them are able to see what arya doesn't, their friendship would never be permited to exist in normal circunstances.

and that leaves us with an arya, that has lost her father, knows very well that her sister dislikes her, has learned that her little brothers were killed by someone she knew once, greatly doubted that her mother would want her back, due to something out of her control like her appearance, saw both of her friends made the decision to leave her behind, gets kidnapped (once again, for the fourth time) by a man who killed one of her friends and mostly abuses her in the short time they travelled together and she ends up seeing men making a mockery of her oldest brother's corpse.

the only person that she has left, and knows would want her back even after everything she went through is jon, but she gets hit in the face by reality once again, she's just a small child, with no power and influence to command someone, anyone really, to get her back to jon.

“I know where we could go,” Arya said. She still had one brother left. Jon will want me, even if no one else does. He’ll call me “little sister” and muss my hair. It was a long way, though, and she didn’t think she could get there by herself. She hadn’t even been able to reach Riverrun. “We could go to the Wall.”

i'm desperate to read arya realizing she's loved and respected, bran and rickon are still alive, and i do believe bran is calling to her, jon died trying his hardest to go and save the person he tought to be her (and we know jon won't stay dead), even with her friends, gendry is certainly waiting for her to come back, while doing the things she once wanted him to do, and i believe even if the war is not done yet, hot pie would like to see her again. the brotherhood is serving the starks now and of course, there's nymeria travelling around the riverlands with her pack. and arya is nymeria as much as nymeria is arya.

[pretending-ican-write]

Cowboy Up - Pt.8

Enjoy, touch angsty. I'm also opening up to requests for drabbles/headcanons of moments pre-show/outside show canon for this pairing because quite frankly i'm obsessed with them (and Ian Bohen i'm in love with that man).

Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!reader

WC: 1483

Previous part - Next part

---

Y/n exited the house with coffee in hand to see the small army John had amassed to deal with the cattle.  From the porch steps, she watched as who she assumed was a new hand talked to Rip who clearly didn’t think much of him.  Poor lad clearly didn’t have a clue what he was supposed to be doing on a ranch.  Y/n decided he was going to need her help to survive at the Yellowstone.

John approached her, “you’re gonna go with Rip up the mountain.”

“The fuck I am.  I’m going to the reservation,” she argued.

He shook his head, “I’m not about to let you be that close to it all y/n.  This is the compromise.  You help with the river or you stay here.  This is one thing that isn’t up for discussion.”

“Fine.”

She turned on her heel to one of the horse trailers where she took the rope of a horse from Colby to load up.  As she turned to leave, she was faced by Ryan who had bought his horse on.  Y/n let out a deep sigh upon seeing him, the reality of the potential danger to them in front of her in the form of his ‘livestock agent’ vest.  

Y/n leant against the metal, “I fuckin’ hate this Ry.”

“I know you do sweetheart,” he whispered.

They spent a quiet moment just existing in each others’ presence.  Ryan wrapped his arms around her middle, pulling her body against hers and pressed a small kiss to the top of her head.  Y/n allowed herself to melt into his chest, and inhale the smell of his cologne mixed in with that of the horses surrounding them. 

“You gotta promise to be fuckin’ careful out there.  I need you to come back to me when today is done,” she said.

Ryan nodded, “I promise to be careful, sweetheart.  You’re all the motivation I need to be safe.”

“I love you,” y/n whispered into the trailer.

Before he got a chance to reply, Lee interrupted them, “come on lovebirds we’ve got cattle to take back and a mountain to blow up.”

“You’ve got shit timing,” she whisper-shouted at her brother as they left, “we were having a moment.”

Lee laughed, “life is full of moments y/n, if you spend too long in one another will pass you by.”

Y/n walked past the line of trucks the hands were climbing into and headed towards where Rip had Comanche waiting for her.  She took her horse and gracefully swung up into the saddle, settling in for the long ride ahead of them.  They started off down the drive and y/n observed how uncomfortable the new hand looked on his horse.  Yeah he was gonna need all the help she could give him.  The convoy departed past them and y/n waved to her brothers in the first truck.  As the last truck drove past, Ryan looked out the window to see her blow him a kiss to which he smiled back.

-/-/-

Half an hour into their trek, y/n felt like the nerves were going to eat her alive.  Rip was leading them up the trail with no indication he wanted to talk and the hand looked far too scared to say anything so she took it upon herself to fill the silence.

“What’s your name?” Y/n asked.

The hand startled at her voice, “uh it’s Jimmy.”

“Nice to meet you Jimmy.  I’m y/n and I reckon you’re gonna need my help here,” she explained, “Rip’s a stubborn son of a bitch who thinks affection’ll kill ya and most of the others stopped maturing when they were 10 so I’m your best chance.”

“Thanks I guess?” He wasn’t sure what to make of the girl behind him.

Rip stopped her from rambling on, “what she’s conveniently missing out of her introduction is that she’s a Dutton so you’d do well to keep away from her.”

“Call off the threats Rip I know you won’t do anything to him,” y/n countered, “guy that uncomfortable on a horse didn’t apply for the job.”

Jimmy turned red at her statement, “listen I ain’t proud of what I done but-”

“Relax I don’t care what you did nor do I care to understand the decisions my father makes.  I’m just here to cowboy and ensure the place doesn’t go to shit before I get a chance to inherit it,” she explained.

Silence elapsed around the group and Rip took the opportunity to check on the youngest Dutton.  He turned around to see that she was clearly off in her own world, reins loose allowing Comanche to just follow the horse in front of him.  Her fingers were tapping out a rhythm on her saddle’s horn and Rip got the feeling her leg would be bouncing if she had her feet on the ground.

When they reached the top of the mountain they got to work setting up the charges to change the course of the river and fuck over the development next door.  Rip headed over to where Lucy was busy connecting up the wires.

“They’re gonna be safe y’know,” he stated, “on both sides of the fence.”

Jimmy looked up from the river, “is this legal?”

“You’re a criminal, what do you care?” Rip questioned.

The hand sighed, “thought the Yellowstone was gonna keep me out of trouble.”

“Getting in trouble’s the only skill you got,” Rip pointed out.

Y/n added, “difference is now you ain’t gonna get caught.”

Once everything had been set, they mounted up and headed back down the mountain.  This time y/n took the lead in an attempt to keep her mind off what would be going down on the reservation at that time.  

-/-/-

Nobody on the ranch had slept since they had returned from the reservation without Lee.  Her father had turned the house into some sort of command centre trying to locate her brother and y/n was sat on the porch steps watching the commotion having lost count of the amount of coffee she’d drank since coming back.  John and Jamie were talking around her but the words weren’t sinking into her brain.  Suddenly her father took off from the house.  Y/n shot up from the step and followed Jamie’s line of sight to where Kayce was walking Lee’s horse towards the ranch with a body slung in front of the saddle.

She gasped and felt the fear that had been keeping her going leave her body.  Her legs buckled, falling to her knees next the steps.  Jamie rushed to wrap his arms around his sister, letting her cry into his chest.  They waited in silence for Kayce to dismount the horse before Jamie let go of her to launch herself into her twin’s arms.  Y/n kept herself attached at the hip with Kayce whilst Jamie tried to get out of him what had happened but he wasn’t willing to give up any information.

At some point sat on the sofa she finally spoke, “someone needs to call Monica.”

“I’ll take Kayce back in the helicopter now.  No use rehashing this on no sleep,” John explained, “stop running on coffee and sleep.”

After the helicopter had departed, y/n made her way down the drive towards the bunkhouse.  The door banged open and the hands looked up.  The place was quiet, there was no insults being thrown around, and they were all there which was unusual for that time of day meaning Rip had given them the day off.  Ryan and Colby were on one of the sofas half-heartedly playing solitaire and Lloyd was sat reading at the table.  

Wordlessly, Ryan put down his cards and opened his arms for his girlfriend.  She made a beeline for him before burying herself in the hoodie he was wearing.  He wrapped his arms tightly around her, kissing her hair safely.  

“I love you,” Ryan whispered to her.

None of the hands made comment about the situation and Lucy fell asleep like that with tears drying on her cheeks.

-/-/-

After the funeral, y/n split from the rest of the group heading to the main house and instead made her way down to the barn in need of some emotional support from Comanche.  She found her father in one of the stalls with the stallion Kayce had been working with.

“What’s he doing here?” She asked.

John looked up at her, “think it’s your brother’s way of apologising.”

“How did it all go so wrong dad?” Y/n pondered.

He sighed, “I have no idea but this isn’t the end of it.”

“I’m still not being part of some fucked up power game dad and you don’t get to use me in some twisted politics but whatever it takes to get justice for Lee I’m onboard with,” she explained, “when we’ve got that we’ll talk again.”

John smiled at his daughter, “that’s good enough for me.”

[mageknight14]

The Dangers and Flaws of Idolization: A NEO TWEWY analysis post

Transplanting and expanding on a thread I made on Twitter to fit within a Tumblr format.

One of the most interesting aspects I see in NEO TWEWY that I don’t see many people touch upon is the commonality between Rindo, Fret, and Shoka in how they look up to others as role models while simultaneously being blind to their flaws/who they actually are up to the end and how the game's themes are reflected in those relationships and today, I'd like to showcase why.

First, we have Rindo and Motoi. With that relationship, the game makes it pretty clear that Rindo looked up to Motoi as An0ther and used his words as encouragement to get through his own daily life and anxiety. The kid could barely decide what he could even eat for dinner before he had come across the account, so if you thought his current indecisiveness nature was bad, he was even worse before the events of the game.

However, what I find interesting is that even though he constantly spouts An0ther's sayings in an attempt to try and steel himself for the challenges he faces, he thoughtlessly does so and only lives by the sayings half-heartedly, since his indecisive nature and fear of responsibility prevent him from committing all the way. I think it's telling that despite claiming that "don't miss your chance to make a friend" is one of his favorite quotes, he's constantly at odds with the idea of bringing potentially new players on board the team even before he gets the chance to properly know/meet them and grimaces at the thought of the structure of the old Reaper's Game in the original.

Keep in mind that Beat saved Rindo's life at the hands of Susukichi at least two whole days ago before this occurrence.

Nagi’s Dive into his head on W1D3 actually does a LOT to reveal aspects of his character: he puts other people at arm’s length (besides Swallow due to their online anonymity) because he’s afraid of the fallout of what would to happen if he got involved with them.

"What if I end up taking on more than I can handle? What if other people end up dragging me down with them? If I just stay at the sidelines and shift the blame onto others, I won’t get into trouble for this."

"I'm in a group project; everybody is contributing and making decisions about how we should go about doing things. I keep my mouth shut and refrain from pitching in despite maybe thinking some of their ideas misses the point of the assignment, because God forbid my ideas could be helpful (or maybe they won't; that's life, but I won't know unless i speak up). We end up handing in our project and whoops, we got a C-. I guess I'm not responsible for receiving that grade because I never made a decision, therefore I shouldn't be accountable for my lack of contribution. It just makes sense."

If you've known/are a person that have had similar thoughts to this mindset, then congrats; you know/are a Rindo Kanade in real life.

This culminates into him latching onto others he finds capable and taking the relationships around him for granted, tying other people's worth to their prowess in might or influence. After all, why bother relying on yourself and others when you can just rely on someone else for you to solve your problems? Especially since it means that if everything goes south, YOU won’t take the fallout for it. After all, they’re clearly much more capable than you are.

To get back to his dynamic with Motoi, Rindo looks up to him immensely after finding out that he was his idol an0ther and came to value his input regarding matters within the Game. So when he eventually finds out the truth and is forced to confront the fact that his hero was nothing more than a content thief and a schemer who would trample over others just to survive, he’s understandably heartbroken.

However, instead of just leaving it there, the game decides to flip the script and have Motoi legitimately apologize to Rindo for his actions, leading to the lad in question learning to recognize that Motoi is ultimately an incredibly flawed human being instead of just writing him off entirely, (even giving him another chance!) and is, in many ways, a mirror to Rindo. Like Rindo, Motoi was deathly afraid of responsibility and the fallout of letting other people down, leading to him copying and pasting other people's quotes so that he wouldn't have to face that possibility. This aspect of himself only got worse when he got trapped in the Reaper's Game for multiple loops on end, forcing him to become a worse version of himself, lying, cheating, and backstabbing just to survive and even looking towards becoming part of the Reapers, the same group that trapped him there in the first place, just so he wouldn't have to be Erased, un a manner that's eerily reminiscent to how Rindo would took towards overly relying on others so that he would make it out okay. In that sense, Motoi is a look at what a grown-up Rindo would look like if he didn't take the lessons he learned within the Game to heart, which is part of why the latter decides to take Motoi’s copypasted quotes and apply them to his life in a positive way, deriving his own meaning from them so that in a way that contrasts him following them in a shallow manner from before.

Next up, we have Fret and Kanon, who form a interesting parallel to Rindo and Motoi's dynamic. Whereas Motoi is a look at one of the worst possible paths that Rindo could take if he didn't learn how to properly deal with his flaws, Kanon actually tries to coach Fret into becoming more true to and genuine with his actual self. She also shows herself to be a genuinely affable and honorable person even in spite of the bad first impression that she had given at the beginning of the game by stealing Rindo and Fret's pin for herself.

However, that's only the surface level stuff, as the game actually goes deeper with her character. While Kanon at first seems to be true to herself and genuine at her core in a way that Fret isn’t, we can see from the Dive into her head on W3D3 that she’s holding back a LOT underneath the surface.

"You always did have a way of destroying things" tends to get glossed over by some and for those who do look at the words, they seemingly come out of nowhere and can be seemingly brushed off as her just being under the influence of the Plague Noise. However , when you look back at some of Kanon’s actions and her words towards the Twisters (accusing the Twisters of sabotaging Fuya and making Motoi drop out of the Scramble Slam against his will, her mood changing when she finds out about Fuya challenging the Ruinbringers in one timeline as opposed to her more cheerful attitude towards Fret when she didn't find that out just yet, her acting suspicious towards the Twisters regarding their prowess as a team, etc), the implication is that she doesn’t just resent the game as a whole but also secretly the Twisters as well.

The thing about the Player teams is that they have formed an unspoken agreement where the top 3 teams (sans Ruinbringers of course) keep their footing by sending new players and other teams to last place, which the Wicked Twisters screw up just by existing. Their synergy and impressive Imagination powers (well, Fret, Nagi, and Sho’s at least) threaten the balance the teams have struggled to keep up for so long, hence why Kanon initially just sees them as another team to point snipe before she changes her mind on them. And while the Twisters do almost bring about change by beating the Ruinbringers, it ultimately doesn’t even matter in the long-run due to how incredibly rigged the Shinjuku game is and as a result, the DRS are eliminated, getting rid of Kanon’s and Motoi’s safety net.

Imagine this from the players’ perspective: you’re stuck in essentially what is a never-ending death game but you’ve got a system going where you can at least stave off your deaths for a bit longer. Then a couple of kids come around and throw that whole system entirely out of whack. And you think, "well, at least they can take out the top team and give us a fighting chance, right?" Only for those hopes to also get dashed because the rules are just that rigged. Like Kubo said, life ain’t fair and the afterlife sure as hell ain’t either. W1D5 and W2D4 are excellent explorations of this kind of mindset as it showcases the player teams falling victim to their desires and abusing their powers as a result of being stuck in an endless loop of playing the Game over and over again with no hope of escaping, as well as highlights paints certain comments made by the leaders in an even darker light.

With all of this in mind, it’s honestly no wonder that Kanon resents the Twisters but what’s interesting is that she tries to keep this resentment under wraps because she knows that it isn’t fair to them. They’re just kids after all who would have no idea about all of that. Hence why she admonishes herself in her Dive for wishing that they had just wipe out the Reapers altogether and why Fret is shown to be hurt hearing her inner thoughts about the Twisters in a way that’s pretty reminiscent of Rindo’s reaction when he found out about Motoi.

And finally, we have Shoka and Ayano. While it’s pretty clear that the two do genuinely care for one another, it’s a relationship that’s been tragically scarred by the events surrounding Shinjuku and the Reapers in general, resulting in a mutually unhealthy dynamic. 

What I find interesting about the relationship is that while Shoka gets pissed whenever Rindo insinuates that Ayano must’ve treated her badly, she sadly realizes in another convo that she doesn’t know much about Ayano on a personal level or what her interests even are.

In spite of how close they are and how much they mean to each other, Ayano still put up emotional walls and closed herself off, never allowing herself to be on equal footing to Shoka and instead just be someone who guides and mentors her over the 4 years they were together.

This is due to her feeling betrayed by Shiba/others while simultaneously using Shoka as her one stable point in life regardless because everything is going up into chaos surrounding the Shinjuku Reapers and she finds herself unable to trust anyone around her anymore. And Shoka herself doesn't even realize this until the end when it’s too late because she was just happy to simply have Ayano by her side without thinking deeper about her and their relationship as a whole due to her own emotional issues and troubled past.

When it comes to children from broken homes, they are prone to imprinting on any adult figure that interacts positively with them and in Shoka's case, this is exactly what she did with the Shinjuku Reapers, especially Ayano.

A running theme throughout all of these instances is how they all involve the younger generation looking up to the adults in their lives as idols as opposed to just role models and thus fail to see them for who they are as actual human beings. And by the time they that finally do, it's too late for the adults.

You also see nods towards this theme via the Shinjuku Reapers and their relationship with Shiba or Shiba’s (who himself is parallel to Rindo if his tendency to subconsciously take on the values of others and mistake his as his own was twisted into the worst possible outcome) relationship with Kubo, with Hishima even flat out stating as such. "You fell at the feet of an idol like an utter fool", indeed.

And this all fits, as well, into NEO's larger theme that even as a 'follower', you have to question the 'leader'. Role models aren't bad -- but idols and failing to recognize their limits/flaws/toxicity are and will end up screwing you over in the long run if you aren’t careful. And I think NEO did an excellent job at exploring the little nuances that come with that, from Kanon’s internal resentment she knew wasn’t fair to the unseen distance between Ayano and Shoka to Motoi being a complete deconstruction of it all. It shows the good and the bad of idolizing someone too much. It shows how you can see the real them and turn the image you liked into something more with Rindo, or how to hold them in your heart while moving on like Shoka. It's okay to acknowledge the flaws and shortcomings of the people you look up to. Hell, it’s probably healthy to do that in some ways. As long as they’re still a good person or even helped you grow, you can still celebrate the good they brought

[zuppizup]

Callum being immensely distressed whenever rayla is uncomfortable or in pain, God forbid she ever gives birth the poor lad won’t survive the experience

Callum: How’s this? We get Stella to teleport the baby out!

Rayla: For the love of… No, Callum! I’ll be fine.

[koolkat9]

Royal Red Bros Week - Day 5

@royalredbrosweek

Prompt: Badly Injured/Verge of Death || Bonding

Rating: T

Relationship: England + Canada

Word Count: 1015

Read on AO3

Author's Note: So while working on this fic I was reading All Quiet on the Western Front for school so a lot of this fic was inspired by scenes in chapter 4 with some of the descriptions in this fic being descriptions in the novel.

Your Sword and Shield

Arthur hadn’t heard the first ‘take cover.' Instead, it was Matthew hurtling towards him and knocking him into the mud, followed by the first whistling then an explosion erupting that gave it away. Clumps of dirt rained down on them, though with Matthew practically on top of him, they never hit him.

The darkened sky popped with white, red, green. Like fireworks, but far more deadly. For a moment, he wondered if Alfred managed to get to safety or at least shield himself with something.

Before him, Arthur spotted a sinkhole made by a recent explosion.

“Matthew?”

There was no reply.

“Come on lad,” Arthur shouted, figuring Matthew couldn’t hear him above the heavy fire. “We need to get into the hole. We’re going to die out here if we…”

When Arthur managed to turn around he found his son limp on top of him, crimson trickling out of his mouth.

“Matthew…MATTHEW!” Arthur shouted again, shaking Matthew’s arm. “You need to open your eyes lad before–”

He was cut off by a shell exploding right next to them, tossing the both of them across the field. At least Arthur was finally free, but now he had to get himself and his giant of a son somewhere safe. Luckily they were tossed near a hole. Dragging Matthew with him, he jumped in.

As safe as they could possibly be, Arthur began to inspect the damage to Matthew’s body. The boy had already grown pale, his breath shallow, skin growing colder. His back was bloody from the barrage of fire, his side had a nasty gash from getting too close to an explosion. Grabbing his and Matthew’s field dressings, he attempted to wrap up the wounds.

Minutes later, when the gunfire and explosions finally died away, Alfred came to find them.

“Take your brother,” Arthur commanded, trying his best to carefully lift Matthew for Alfred to reach.

“What hap–”

“You know him. My sword and now my shield.”

Alfred went to say something else but pressed his lips together again. With Matthew out, Alfred reached for Arthur. Arthur batted his hand away and climbed out himself.

“God, what did you do this time Matt?” Alfred reprimanded, picking his brother up.

Arthur was already heading back towards the truck.

“Hey slow down,” Alfred barked.

“We need to get him medical attention if he’s going to survive.”

“Arthur.”

“We need to go.”

“You’re going to get him killed,” Alfred barked. “He thinks about you before himself every time.”

“He’s an adult,” Arthur snapped back, whirling around to face his other son. “He makes his choices. And he does the same for you. For Alastair. Even for Francis, though he won’t admit it.”

“Well…You–”

“We need to move. Or else he really will die. And you and I both know the pain of regeneration.”

— — —

When Matthew began to stir, he could tell he was in the hospital before he even managed to open his eyes. The stench of death and sick mixed with that distinct hospital smell. He let out a slight groan, the pain of his back and side catching up to him.

Instinctively, he went to push himself up having been laid on his stomach only for someone to gently hold him down.

“Relax love,” A gentle voice whispered. A voice he hadn’t heard since he was a little boy.

“Dad?”

“Shhh. Just lay down. Are you in pain?”

“Mhm…”

“Okay. I’ll see if the orderly can get you anything for it.”

Matthew heard shuffling, footsteps. A pained ‘no’ ripped from his throat.

“It will only be a moment,” Arthur murmured.

“Please…stay…”

For a moment, Matthew could picture himself, no more than six standing in the hallway as Arthur was about to set off for England. So many moments like that throughout his childhood. And as much as he wanted to cry out ‘stay,’ he never did. Not that it would have probably made a difference. But now…

“I…I don’t want…” Matthew trailed off.

“Okay…Okay, I’ll stay.”

Arthur took a seat beside him once more.

They were quiet for a moment, only the hurried steps of medical staff and the occasional screaming of a patient filling the room.

“You’re okay right?” Matthew finally asked.

Arthur’s face looked unfazed, but his eyes sparked with something Matthew couldn’t quite place. It made him shutter.

“I’m not the one in the hospital bed,” Arthur answered shortly.

“True…”

Silence again. Or as silent as you could get in a field hospital.

“Am I going to make it?’ Matthew asked.

Arthur was quiet for a moment. Closed his eyes and took a breath. “I don’t know. The orderlies don’t seem to think so, but they don’t quite get how our bodies work. But either way, I’m going to get you out of here and back home as soon as possible.”

“No. No. I’ll heal. It doesn’t take too long, so I’ll be back out there–”

“You’re going home to recover. Especially if you really are going to die. I don’t want you to have to go through the reset in this place.”

“But I have to–”

“You don’t have to do anything. You’ve done more than enough. I’m standing here because of you. But I can’t have you out there in a weak state.”

“Dad I–”

“That is an order. You will be going home in a week if I can help it.”

Matthew paused for a moment, simmering in the command he was given. “Can I at least go stay with Auntie Niamh? That way I’m not making a long trek across the ocean like this.”

“I suppose… that would be best,” Arthur said slowly. He coughed awkwardly. “I’ll figure out the details. Just…rest for now.”

“Okay…B-But you’ll stay right?”

Arthur’s unreadable eyes finally softened ever so slightly. “Of course.”

As sleep crept in, Matthew felt Arthur brush his bangs out of his face. Just before he nodded off again, Arthur pressed a kiss to his forehead. And for a moment, Matthew felt no different than that six-year-old boy, but now his father would stay.

[finniestoncrane]

2.5k Event Request - Maximus x Fem!Reader word count: 750 a/n: you dare maximus to try a bit of roleplay, trying to get him to push past the awkwardness that often precedes sex. i tried to make this just smut, but i am so obsessed with his silly almost innocence so it's actually little bit of goofy flirting cw: dares, roleplay, awkward flirting, suggestive stuff, goofy fluff 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2.5k (to follow or to block)

“It’ll do, right? I mean, it’s not as glamorous as some other places, but at least it’s safe. And it has a roof. Prime real estate out here.”

Maximus turned to you, offering a sweet, charming smile as he tried to convince you both that this abandoned Red Rocket was going to be the best place to hide out. And it didn’t take much convincing. It felt like you had been travelling around the Wasteland for weeks, but it was only days since you had last managed to find some shelter with at least three walls and some kind of roof. Things were finally looking up now, although running from the Brotherhood of Steel hadn’t been all bad. Yes, the lingering threat was constantly on your heels, but it had also given you plenty of time to get to know Maximus, and as it stood, your relationship with him had blossomed, only becoming stronger as you survived with him.

Rushing ahead of you, Maximus declared a race, claiming any leftover colas in the long-broken refrigerators as the prize for the victor. And once inside, and three warm, expired sodas later, you and Maximus were sitting in an awkward silence, struggling to think of how to shift the mood, or event he conversation, to what you both wanted. Mindless flirting, a little bit of physical touch, but you were both stuck on how to take it any further. That was until you had a stroke of what you could only describe as genius.

“Oh! Maximus!”

He looked to you with wide eyes, raising an eyebrow when you spoke.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth… or dare?”

“Yeah, it’s a game! We take it in turns to ask the other ‘truth or dare’ and then, when they choose their option, you either ask them a question that they have to answer with the truth, or you give them a dare that they have to do!”

He raised his eyebrows, considering it for a moment, eventually realising, quite innocently, that he could get you to confess to stealing his last fancy lad snack cake. And then, with a twinge of excitement, that he could dare you to just kiss him already. But you had chosen first, so to get what he wanted, he had to play along.

“Sounds… fun, I guess. Uh… I guess I’ll take a dare. They can be… they can be like, sexy, right?”

You giggled a little, blushing at how quickly his mind had gone to the dirtier possibilities. So you changed the dare you had planned and smiled wide as you spoke.

“Ok… I dare you to… have you heard of roleplay?”

“Roleplay?”

“Yeah! Like… we act out a little fantasy… maybe it makes it easier to push past the awkwardness?”

“Hm, that sounds… interesting.”

He was smiling at you, trying to pretend that he wasn’t as excited as he was. But there was a twinge of electricity that coursed through him, knowing that he might be able to finally have sex with you, after you’d explained to him a week ago that there really was no danger in that act at all.

“Ok then, I dare you to try some roleplay with me. What do you think?”

“Yeah, I could get into that. If, uh… if you want to. And you promise my cock-”

“I promise your cock won’t explode!”

You giggled a little, watching him shift on the bedroll to hide his growing erection.

“So. What kind of roleplay do you want me to try?”

“I think you should act like a Paladin. And I can be your Squire.”

“And I boss you around?”

“Mhm, I’ll do whatever you want me to. I’m at your command, Paladin Max.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat, fingers twitching as he considered the opportunity in front of him. His nerves were quieting him, so you took the lead and leaned into him.

“Gosh, Paladin, it must be so stressful doing the work you do. Would you like me to… relieve some of that pressure?”

Your palm slid up his thigh, fingers grazing over the growing bulge. He stuttered something unintelligible, mumbling as he tried to find the words to describe what he wanted from you.

“What is it, Paladin? What’s my first task as your faithful and willing Squire?”

“I… maybe, uh… maybe I would like you to make my cock explode. Sounds like it might be kind of fun.”

You licked your lips, lowering your head into his lap as he leaned back, smiling wide.

[ninapi]

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・●

*＊✿❀ Bewitched ❀✿＊*

Premise: Prince Keisuke was known to be a troublesome lad, often bringing problems to the queen herself. In an attempt to tame the wild prince, the queen calls for a powerful witch to aid him with his cause, hoping to put an end to this quest sooner. What she didn't count on was love being what he needed most.

Word Count: 2875

Chapter 4: The Witch and the King

The definition of a steamy night would depend on who lived it.

A soft heartwarming hug while sharing a hot beverage was an accurate definition of one for a wounded soul like Kazutora, a walk under the moonlight holding hands, one for Draken, as for Baji Keisuke, a steamy night involved a lot of kissing, his favorite blanket, hair pulling and less clothing.

But to be fair, he was in no shape to do such a thing. “My prince, you were stabbed less than half an hour ago, we shouldn’t be mghfff…” he just wouldn’t let you even talk, his thirst for those juicy lips of yours have been growing wild since the moment you tried to turn his enemy into a rat. “Shhh (Y/N) just kiss me….that’s an order…” while his tone wasn’t commanding at all, it was clear he was trying to abuse of his power to get what he wanted, which of course would not work with you.

“Keisuke.” that made him shiver, your sweet voice had never taken that tone with him, but he somehow liked it, how improper that sounded, to you he was not the prince, he was just a man, a man that loved you, your man? Or so he wishes to think.

“What…?” he mumbled while keeping your lower lip in between his teeth, his scowl being almost comical.

“I said, not now.” the whine that left his lips could be heard all the way down the hall where Draken guarded Kazutora’s room. He’s never been known as a whiny guy, but you made the real him shine, to an embarrassing degree.

“You dare defy your prince?” while his words were harsh, a rather naughty smirk adorned his handsome face. “No, I worry for my prince’s health, you need to rest and get better soon and I need to go and brew a potion for that to happen. We can continue….this…” you motioned to the mess of limbs and sheets you were currently in while sighing “…when you’re in top condition. Agreed?” 

While he was pouting heavily, he had no choice but to nod at your words, they weren’t a request, and he knew it. Not a single person would survive using such a tone with the crown prince, safe for yourself.

“You are to come to my chambers as soon as the potion is ready, without stopping at the queen’s chambers, nor Kazutora’s. Agreed?” you were already getting yourself detangled from his strong grip, it amazed you how he still had such strength regardless all that went down just now. “Agreed. It won’t be long.” you bent down just a bit before leaving to place a gentle kiss to his forehead, your fingers threading his long hair. “Rest, my beloved prince.”

Saying he was a mess was an understatement, he didn’t know a human being could melt down to a puddle if given enough love. He didn’t even know someone could feel so much out of a simple act as a gentle touch of his hair. Everything you did to him felt like magic, like only you’d be able to achieve such a thing with him. It was inexplicable and utterly intoxicating. He wanted more, more kisses, more of your soft warmth, your delicious natural scent mixed in with some random herbs, more of that soft look you give him. He wanted more, and that was something he never experienced before. He’s always had it all and didn’t even want half of what he had, but this was the first time he really wanted something, someone.

And that was you.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

The prince didn’t take long to regain his strength, your potion did wonders to heal his inner wounds and thanks to the rapid treatment of your healing magic nothing major happened with his health.

The quest was now over, even if Hanma Shuji was still on the run, nobody really cared about him anymore. The mastermind had been captured and sent to exile guarded by ancient spells and highly trained military buffs, Pah-chin and Peh-yan renowned members of the elite were tasked as head of this operation.

And most importantly, Kazutora had been retrieved.

While the prince’s physical wounds had been healed, there was very little you could do to heal those wounds of the heart. He had been betrayed by one of his best friends, not once, but twice. He wanted him dead, wanted his woman to himself, wanted to make the past his present, yet he wanted him out of said picture.

That hurts.

Seeing someone you trust and love wanting you out of their life completely, thinking of you as a disposable part of their life is just…painful…

It took time, but having your support made wonders to his mood though, he was brighter when you were by his side, his friends always making sure he had enough moral support from them as well.

However, they were as torn as he was, specially Mikey.

While Mikey refused to meet Kazutora, Keisuke wanted nothing more than to clear the air as soon as possible. Once he was ready to let go of his grief he decided to visit him, taking you along.

“Kazutora…” he was sitting by the window looking over some sheep in the distance. Even if he was technically being held prisoner, truth is he was very comfortable and had never felt as safe.

“Baji?” his mind was clearer lately, his emotional outbursts more stable. While you were no mind doctor, you did a good job trying to get him back to reality in the softest and most gentle of ways. “Are you sure you should be here?” to this he just nodded, sitting beside him to contemplate the sheep.

By the door Draken and you remained quiet, you both knew your presence might be necessary at some point yet you did want them to have a moment of their own.

“The past won’t come back no matter what we do. We must take ownership of our own decisions and move on supporting those we love and care for in their life choices.” Kazutora remained still, he didn’t like where this was going yet he promised you he’d do his best when the prince finally did come talk to him. “We never pushed you away, you could have been part of the military or could take on a different roll like Mitsuya did, we would have supported you, we would have make you a part of our lives like we did back then. But we can’t run away from change, things can’t stay the same forever. That doesn’t mean we have to part ways, if you want to be a part of what we do, all you had to do is tell us.” 

You were holding onto the door frame for support, Kazutora was doing a fantastic job listening carefully, he didn’t seem to be agitated, but you were on edge, he could lash out at any moment, while the prince wasn’t worried for his own well being, you were for both.

“Are you and (Y/N) a thing?” his question was more unexpected for you than for him, he was certain he’d touch the subject sooner rather than later.

“Why does it matter to you?”

“I’m not the only one who isn’t living in the current timeline, Baji. You are to be king, seems to me you keep forgetting that. Like you said, change can’t be avoided, you will be king soon, you do know what that means right?” while he was saying this with a selfish interest, he was also worried about you getting hurt like he was in the process, you were so kind and selfless, you didn’t belong in this world, very much like he didn’t.

“Means I’ll need a queen.” the gasp that came out of your lips matched Darken’s and Kazutora’s in unison.

“Don’t act so surprised. I’ve never done unnecessary things and I’m not about to start at this age. I am indeed courting her, if that’s your question, and with a serious intent of making her my woman, my queen, to be the mother of the offspring that will carry our legacy to future generations. And I hope you, my friend, will support our union.”

Kazutora was speechless, while he was expecting a fight, he wasn’t expecting it to be this deep and full of raw love. He did care for you, liked you even, he dreamed of living in a small cottage in your forest and visit you daily; but he had never gone as far as to think of marriage or the prospect of bringing offspring to this world. 

“Is that what she wants? To be tied to the implications of having royal blood? Because to me she looks like a free spirit who would hate fancy parties and socializing.” that made Baji chuckle, this conversation was turning softer and to a more familiar tone as time went by.

“Oh she’ll hate it for sure. But I treat my girl right. She has her greenhouse here in the castle and she can have all she wants, she’s very good at demanding things. Why do you think she kept coming to see you after all that happened? I had to hear her yell at me for about an hour saying all the good things she could accomplish regarding your overall health if she was allowed in your chambers…I had to say yes, she was driving me insane.” both chuckled together like the good old friends they were.

Seemed like no fight would come, seemed like everything would be just fine.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A few weeks after the altercation, the queen had summoned the royal clothier without the prince’s consent, a rare occurrence to say the least.

“Mitsuya? What are you doing here?” the grin gracing the prince’s features was one you haven’t seen before, it was so warm and full of longing, it made you smile just by seeing it.

“Oh Baji! Hey, your mother requested I brought some gowns and matching outfits for you. How do you feel about a purple cape? I had this idea that’s been eating my brain all morning-

Oh, who’s this?” Mitsuya’s eyes suddenly lit up with your presence, a face he’s never seen before.

“Wait…” his face was suddenly almost pressed to your waist, one of his hands wrapping around your wrist as he examined your body up close.”

“Mitsuya, what the hell are you doing? Get your hands off my girl right this instant-” snarling, Keisuke was pulling Mitsuya away from you as if he was a dangerous wolf.

“Those sizes…” Mitsuya’s mumbling made Keisuke’s cheeks turn bright red, “Just what were you looking at man?” 

“The gowns your mother ordered…I thought it was a bit off, her chest size is quite small compared to what she ordered…The gowns are for her aren’t they?” 

Before anyone could answer the queen herself entered the room, her grandiose aura causing you to bow your head down immediately.

“Of course they are, dear. But aren’t you a rude one? You should never compare girl’s chest sizes, our pride could shatter easily.” 

“Your majesty…” Mitsuya fell to his knees, bowing his head low.

“Get up, silly boy. I shall be queen no more starting tomorrow.”

“What are you talking about, mother?”

“You’re a man now Keisuke. You have what you need to be king, your friends have shown their loyalty to the crown as well as the witch of the forest has shown unconditional love and devotion towards you, the king of this realm. There’s no need for a queen regent anymore.”

There was nothing but silence filling the air as the queen strolled through the multitude of outfits she had requested.

The gowns were fit for a queen and they matched the king’s outfits to perfection, just as she ordered, golden embroidery, rhinestones, silk ribbons.

While you haven’t been formally asked to take on this role, the fact that you continued supporting Keisuke, his decisions and his people, made you a really strong candidate for queen consort. A better option than the far away kingdom princess who just turned seven last spring, that is for sure.

And just like the former king had wished for, his son would take his place the moment he’d become a man, the moment he’d understand what love is and the responsibilities that come with it, he’d be ready to take the crown.

“It’s time for me to retire to the side palace and stop wearing dresses every day. Do it for your mother if nothing else…” even if she was half joking, he could see how tired his mother looked, her fine lines accentuated by the lack of sleep, her features growing old as days went by. He was not a baby anymore, it was his turn to take over, to let his mother get her much desired rest, she was never meant to take on such a load, it was time to lift it from her shoulders.

“My dear witch of the forest. I shall not ask you to stop what you’re best at, on the contrary, I ask you to continue supporting my son, your king, not just as the powerful magic wielder of our kingdom but as woman taking care of her man.” her words were honest and heartfelt, words of a caring loving mother, and they made your face light up like a Christmas tree, bright and red.

“I-I will do my best, your highness.”

“Of course you will. The coronation ceremony will take place as soon as the sun graces our highest hill. Make sure to be there on time, both of you.” and with that she left the room to a speechless bunch.

“Does that mean you’re getting married?” Mitsuya, who was still there was left in awe at the news, “I did not get a wedding dress request. I will need at least a week.”

With boisterous laughter Baji patted Mitsuya’s back, his eyes never leaving yours across the room. “Don’t worry buddy, we still have time for that…I haven’t even asked her out yet…”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

[Time Skip]

The king ordered every remaining Valhalla member to join the army, first handedly trained by the best of the best, Ryuguji Ken, right hand of the head of the army himself in charge of turning them all into men of duty.

Kazutora, instead of joining them, decided to help his majesty the queen consort and tend to her green house. 

Having a queen that was also the most powerful witch in the real made the kingdom the strongest amongst all since now they weren’t just a military powerhouse but an ancestral magic one as well. So the requests for potions and magical objects was in high demand and a source of income for the kingdom, the queen being pregnant with twins was having a hard time fulfilling all the requests and good old Kazutora remained in the castle to take good care of his dear friend and help her with the arts of brewing potions.

“Keisuke…would you please go to work? We have to provide your entire army a crate of healing potions by noon, stop hogging my assistant!” 

“Babe…before he was your assistant, he was my friend, you know that don't you, beautiful?”

“Are you fighting over Kazutora-san again? My king…we must go now…” Chifuyu was trying to drag Baji out of your greenhouse, his horse ready outside the castle for him to ride it towards the neighboring kingdom.

“Chifuyu just take him please, I might end up having the royal babies right now out of stress…”

“WHAT? You feeling sick, baby? I don’t have to go to this thing…I’ll just stay here and make sure you and my children are fine…”

“You don’t have to go to this thing? It’s a banquet in your honor, Keisuke! Get your ass on that horse right now…” your hands were glowing red and he knew well what that meant, without saying anything else he gave your cheek and swollen belly a soft kiss before being escorted out by Chifuyu.

“He’s such a pain, you sure you don’t prefer me? I know how to brew potions now and all~” he was joking but the longing in his tone of voice still tugged at your heartstrings. “Trust me, you don’t wanna deal with him if that were to happen…” giggling together, you spent your day pretty much like any other, brewing potions with Kazutora, tending to your garden, playfully fighting with your husband and listening to Chifuyu nag all day about your swollen ankles and how much you needed to rest.

Being a queen wasn’t easy, being a king wasn’t either. But being a friend, a husband and a wife, a mother and a father, those were more important titles to the two of you.

The Baji dynasty was far from over, a new bright future for the kingdom just began.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・●

Note: And that's it for this series! 🫧Thank you to all who took time to read it all, I appreciate you 😊❤️ Chifuyu is coming next so hope you stick around!👀

Masterlist Previous Chapter

[razorblade180]

Mind at work

[teapot]

Aether:*stares at Abyss Domain list*…

Kokomi:Trying to figure out a strategy? We did manage to reach the bottom, though I’ll admit are performance was somewhat lacking.

Aether:It’s no one’s fault. You did exactly what you were supposed to. It’s just weird. Our group is pretty big and aren’t exactly slackers. I feel like I’m overlooking something.

Kokomi:For the most part, foes want to get personal so grouping isn’t a problem. I do feel as if something is amiss. *stares at second half* Is there really no team naturally fitted for this.

Aether and Kokomi:Hmmm….!?

Kokomi:Aether?

Aether:Yeah I see it.

xxxxx

Bennett:It’s been awhile since the for of us hung out. I missed you guys!

Xingqui:The feeling is mutual. Though I wish it was for calmer circumstances.

Xiangling:I’m just glad it’s finally over. Never thought I’d be this rusty. *slouches* how many did we get?

Chongyun:*sitting on boss* if I counted correctly, thirty two. That’s progress.

Bennett:Free cheers for a good run. Hip hip-

CXXB:Hooray!

xxxxxx

Aether:I can live in peace now.

Kokomi:I can’t. We’re one star short of another bonus.

Aether:Let it go~ *lays down* this is already better than I hoped.

Kokomi:*looking at list* Technically speaking…do we really need to send a crowd controller when the majority of the foes want to run at people? What if for the first half we asked someone who’s just really strong and willing to face immense danger the majority of the run.

Aether:(I should really help Itto’s development more often. Only other person who might fit that description is-) *sits up* I can call some people. It won’t matter though if second half is too slow. Too bad electro teams aren’t that good on that half.

Kokomi:*scratches head* What a weird group of enemies. Me helping Miko would’ve been perfect along side Nahida and Dehya. We could ask Yoimiya again?

Aether:Do you think she’ll survive?

Kokomi:*sighs* I’m good but I’m not good. The group falls apart with consistent power, but lots of our heavy hitters bruise easily or aren’t suited well enough for a full manageable run. We need balance.

Aether:Who doesn’t care at all about the Thunder Manifestation besides Yoi-….*zips down the hall*

Kokomi:I guess he found the answer.

Aether:*opens door* Hey, wanna go to floor 12?

Yanfei:Where’s Yoimiya!?

Aether:You have a shield and are all pyro attacks.

Yanfei:…Is Kokomi coming?

Kokomi:*yells* Yes!

Yanfei:I’ll do my best.

xxxxx

Consecrated beasts: *unconscious*

Scara:*sitting on one*….

Zhongli:What’s he doing?

Diona:Judging if this went well or not. It’s kinda his way criticizing.

Faruzan:Hmph, the lad is just incapable of actually giving a decent compliment; even after doing so much for him! At best he’ll say “well it looks like you actually can do something.” Ugh, it drives me mad.

Scara:*turns around* ….. *thumbs up*

Zhongli:Looks like he’s satisfied.

FD: (Genuine praise!? What’s gotten into him!?)

Scara, secretly stressed: (That’s it, just play it cool and act like I didn’t almost get mauled to death.)

Meanwhile on the other half…

Baptist: *full nelson* LET ME GO!

Dehya:Don’t feel like. Yanfei!

Yanfei:You sure? *holds fireball*

Kokomi:It’ll be fine. *makes fish*

Nahida:She can take it. *closes one eye* Ready…aim….

Baptist:Nooooooooo!

xxxxx

34 stars

Kokomi:…Y’know-

Everyone:We can’t!

Kokomi:Alright, hit the showers.

[sylvienerevarine]

Sophrine Aulette's Skyrim Encyclopedia (Part 2)

ok i guess i'm not done with this series yet. it may take a while. i keep thinking of new jokes.

Part 1 is here.

--

Blades

If you’ve ever met a Blade, no you haven’t (that was a joke, because they’re secretive). The Blades were originally founded as a dragon-slaying organization, but eventually expanded into other areas like bodyguarding and espionage. They got their name from using swords, which generally have blades.

Some notable Blades include:

Caius Cosades, who according to my Nana Sylvie’s memoirs never wore a shirt and drank a lot of skooma

Baurus, a fellow from the end of the 3rd Era who impressively survived the entire Oblivion Crisis

My distant great-aunt Sacha Llervu, Martin Septim’s best friend, who had a knack for closing Oblivion Gates and committing petty crimes

Delphine Fitzhubert, who is sort of my friend, except she’s still cross with me for being polite to some dragons. She’ll come around eventually.

Draugr

A draugr is a person who was alive at some point, but is now an undead sort of thing with a terrible complexion. There are a few different stories about how draugr came to be–many of them worked for dragon priests and became undead so they could keep doing their old jobs forever, and apparently some on Solstheim were cursed because they ate other people. Nasty stuff. Unless you’re Bosmer, I guess.

The good news about draugr is that they’re not terribly bright, as is proven by the fact that they can’t solve the puzzles in Nordic ruins. If you know the voice-projecting Shout like I do, you can just call “Who wants free mead?” from somewhere else in the room, and then sneak by while they’re trying to find the free mead.

Palace of Kings

I’m not allowed in here anymore (see Stormcloaks).

Stormcloaks

The Stormcloaks are a political movement based out of Windhelm, and are led by Ulfric Stormcloak (which is how they got their name). They have some pretty good ideas (make Skyrim independent, stop religious persecution, annoy the Thalmor) and some very bad ones (being horrible to Dunmer and Argonians and anyone who isn’t a Nord, really).

I once met Jarl Ulfric and pointed out some of these bad ideas to him, and he banned me from his palace. There’s gratitude for you.

Talos

You probably know about Talos from the park in Whiterun, where that fellow Heimskr is always shouting about what a good lad he was. There are two main theories about where Talos came from: either he was born in Atmora and moved to Skyrim as a young man to take Dragonborn lessons, or he was born in High Rock and did a lot of complicated political things. My grandparents favor the second explanation, since they’re very patriotic.

Wherever he came from, we know that Talos later went around conquering and uniting any piece of land he came across, and set up what we now know as the Third Empire. Somewhere along the way he changed his name to Tiber Septim, in order to match what the money was called.

Many people believe that after Talos died, he was promoted to a member of the Divines. Just in case any of the Thalmor are reading this, I’m legally required to state that this did not happen and humans can’t become gods, because we simply don’t have the intelligence for it. Unlike the average Thalmor officer.

The Throat of the World

The Throat of the World is the tallest mountain in Skyrim and by extension Tamriel. They might have higher mountains in places like Akavir or Atmora, but no one really bothers about those places. It’s unclear how the TotW got its name, since people’s throats aren’t typically very pointy or covered in snow. My guess is that someone from the Bards’ College thought it up. The only place on the Throat to get a bite to eat is High Hrothgar, the home of the Greybeards. While the monks don’t offer much in the way of conversation, they’re very kindly old men, and won’t shout at you for accidentally falling asleep in their library and drooling on their copy of Songs of the Return.

[one-vivid-judgment]

Do you think ZhaoHan are VERY Dramatic when they are separated for a certain period of time ?

If yes could you imagine how insufferable they would be then to people not used to their antics…

I imagine Tomi going to Yokohama with Ichiban and the rest of the gang before The Big FinaleTM but he barely gets to meet the rest of the crew that he witnesses Joon-gi straight up fucking sprinting towards Zhao and almost glues himself to him (in typical RGG fashion where every scene they are together they MUST be attached to the hip iykyk)

Like Tomi never saw the man move so damn fast outside of fights, he swore he only saw a blur of black and silver zoom past him 😭 (and everyone else, minus Kiryu and Chitose, are just kinda shrugging at him like yeah this is your average Tuesday Tomi, get used to it)

When I tell you my ZhaoHan wired brain on my current LAD replay keeps fixating on THAT little detail in literally every cutscene they appear in together  They’re about to sneak into Omi HQ and Joongi won’t stop looking at Zhao as he speaks. Always sitting together at the piano when I enter Survive. Sawashiro tries to leave Seiryu HQ after we beat his ass and who’s stopping him? These two. A whole party chat of just those two talking about meat buns with not even Ichi intervening. Ichi tells them about how he’s going to Osaka and Zhao and Joongi are literally standing together behind Saeko (also, in Spanish, Saeko calls Joongi ‘Geomijul boy’, and specifically in this scene, he calls him ‘sweetheart’ and I think that’s adorable). Seonhee calls for them and they show up at Survive together. These two literally gravitate towards one another and I don’t think they even realize it

I just imagine Joongi getting sulky because his best friend AND his boyfriend decided to go with Kiryu and leave him with all the boring paperwork, then booking a ticket to Hawaii that same night “Cause fuck you, that’s why”, and immediately regretting it a few days into his self-imposed vacation cause he can’t send Zhao any of the pics he’s taking, else Seonhee will find out (never mind the fact that Seonhee ALREADY knows his dramatic, neglected Bengal cat ass booked it to Hawaii) and he feels so lonely pre-meeting with the Ichigang.

Joongi strikes me as the introverted type who needs time to charge his social battery, and who has specific people he latches onto to help him recharge because they help him feel comforted/at ease, aka Zhao and Seonhee. Being without them makes him feel kinda sluggish and his battery charges up way slower, so when he’s back in Ijincho? Boy, he JUMPS Zhao and clings to him like a baby koala. Zhao is so used to it that he doesn’t even flinch at this point, just ‘aww’s and takes to a quiet corner.

Tomi and Chitose been knew Joongi was the ‘cool on the outside, big ass dork on the inside’ type but,,, they’ve never seen him this needy??? Meanwhile everyone else remains unimpressed cause “Yeah?? Haven’t you heard ‘Joongi Han on the streets, Kim Yeonsu on the sheets’? This happens every other day.”

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles--3x03 Quite a Common Fairy

Summary:  A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 703 (what even are word count limits? They really shouldn't apply when it comes to CS)

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Coconuts in hand and hook, Killian returned to the clearing where the heroes rested after another long day on Neverland.  It was the work of a moment to decide where he should take a seat.  After all, the prince and princess were seated together, deep in soft conversation, as were Regina and Tink. Swan sat alone, staring pensively into the fire.

“May I?” he asked, nodding toward the log on which she sat.

Swan shrugged.  “Suit yourself.  Not sure I’m much company tonight, though.”

Killian settled in and chuckled humorlessly.  “It’s rather difficult for anyone to be so in this infernal place.”

She turned to look at him.  “This is how you stayed alive for hundreds of years, isn’t it,” she asked, “by spending that time on Neverland?”

It wasn’t a subject he preferred to dwell on, so he merely nodded.

“How did you survive it?” she asked.  “I’ve been here, what? Two, three days?  And I already feel like I’m crawling out of my skin.”

Killian felt the compassion bubbling up. He knew that feeling all too well.  This place bred hopelessness and amplified pain. “I simply put one foot in front of the other,” he finally answered. “I kept my focus on my objective, refusing to dwell on the … oppressive … atmosphere of this place and the sadistic nature of its ruler.”

“Easier said than done,” she murmured, turning back toward the fire.

“Aye, but you have family, friends, those who care about you to help you through,” he said. “Focus on that.  If you must think ahead, focus on the moment your lad is returned to you, the moment you, all of us go home.”

She turned and gave him a grateful smile.  “Thanks,” she said simply. “And…did you have that too?  Did you have friends on this island?”

He was silent for a long time, not entirely sure how to answer the question.  He’d had his crew, of course–at least those who weren’t trapped in Echo Cave, killed by dreamshade or destroyed by Pan’s sadistic games–but one could hardly call one’s subordinates friends.  And then there was Bae, but it’s hard to call a lad who despises you for selling him out your friend.

He supposed if anyone fit the description, it would be Tink.  He’d sought her out now and again when he needed a commiserating ear.  They’d swapped stories of the misfortunes that had led them to this place and their less than pleasant encounters with Pan.  He’d even spent a night here or there at her treehouse.  But theirs was an acquaintance of convenience and mutual bitterness, rather than a true friendship.

If the truth were told, he hadn’t felt the true pull of friendship with anyone in centuries–until he met Swan.

Of course, one rarely felt like an awkward lad fancying his first woman with a friend.  One rarely felt his stomach swoop when she looked at him, his heart race when she gave him a rare smile, or electricity pulse through his system when their hands met.

It was best not to continue down that avenue of thought, Killian decided, turning away to grab one of the coconuts and pierce it with his hook.  He handed it to her, basking in the grateful smile and simple “Thanks” she sent his way.

“I supposed perhaps Tink could be considered a friend,” he said, finally answering her question.

Swan took a quick sip from the coconut.  “So you think we can trust her?  Really?”

“Aye,” he answered. “She won’t cross Pan unnecessarily–self preservation and all of that–but I’m also certain she will not betray us.”

“Good enough for me at this point,” Emma said with a quick nod.

They fell into silence for a moment, before she turned back toward him, tentatively laying a hand on his arm. (He tried fruitlessly to ignore the way that simple gesture inspired it all–the stomach swoop, the racing heart and the electricity, all rolled up into one.)  “I’m really glad you’re here with us, helping us.”

He smiled. “As am I.”

And suddenly, he realized it was true.  Though he’d spent centuries trying to get off of this bloody island, right now there was nowhere he’d rather be.

NEXT CHAPTER->

[rowanthestrange]

Foster Pup Blog:

How I ate breakfast this morning

We survived the night!

Given his trauma reactions to being locked in, we aren’t shutting him in his Secret Den yet, so the middle-ground we’re going for is having him in the living room overnight. …obviously that also has a shut door, and his separation anxiety won’t be having that (and nothing’s ever fully day one puppy proof), so I get to move temporarily onto the sofa. Depending on how long he’s here, the plan is that he gets used to the crate enough we can first drop the blanket down like a door, then add the door, then remove me. Or failing that, work out the majority of unsupervised puppy-proofing problems, give the sofas up for lost and get to be happy if they don’t get chewed up, and slowly move me out of the room that way.

But he did manage to last a whole night from around 11pm to 6:30am without waking up for a walk about. And while we did have a little full-bladder accident this morning he did really tried to hold it and we’d have probably made it if I hadn’t chanced trying to put my hoodie on first. (We’re on the second story so it’s not as instant out as we’d like, but he’s already got the idea).

He does woof at just about everything, which we’re trying to positively train out, but given everything it might take a while, which we may or may not have. And he seems to have an understandably wonky view of ‘object permanence’. If my husband goes behind a door or upstairs, the little lad hears noises and woofs at him like it’s a stranger until he sees him. Makes sense. He’s been in kennels with their many entrances and exits and huge variety of people working there. The humans in his life must have seemed completely random and unknowable to him. When he woke up this morning (and bear in mind I’m not one to anthropomorphise) he slid out of bed, butt first, had a little sleepy look around, and when he noticed me you could see the shock and surprise in his eyes, and he then rushed up for cuddles. He must’ve grown to enjoy being with so many people, and then they leave again. With a human baby we try to limit their number of primary caregivers to prevent attachment disorders; probably something similar for puppers.

The rescue people are still all but forging the adoption papers. Even the foster care coordinator is pushing for it, though you’d think that’d reduce our utility (“sometimes I might want a dog fostered alongside another - if he can do it then there’s nothing stopping that”) and oh he is lush. But the thing I think is weird is…ok I’m trained to some degree in dog and animal care (and frankly the childcare I think also counts, a lot of similarities tbh except sadly not allowed to clicker-train the toddlers), and yes I’ve got time, flexibility, and enough income to cover sudden basic needs/medical care. But I don’t think we’re that special - those are standards the forms want you to meet. It’s just one of those things where you’re thinking what the usual clientele on the list for adopting a rescue puppy are like then? Cus I’d have thought we’d be average really, our home and garden setup isn’t great, and we had to cart our big old border collie/doberman cross in the back seats of a clapped-out Mini that didn’t even have back doors and he had to climb through the front ones (and we’re still transporting this little lad in the same one! Though actually do plan to get another now cus it’s costing new car money to fix it at this point). I don’t know, it’s just like…you know when you see visible emotional relief in a service worker’s eyes when something goes wrong and you’re nice to them, and you’re like ‘fuck I thought this was normal politeness levels, what are people usually like to you?’ That. At the end when I pulled the tape-measure out of my pocket in our first meeting with him so I could size what harness he’d need, one of them literally went “yeah I want you to have him”. But I don’t know, maybe a baseline awareness of what you’re getting into is not actually the default I think it is. Might be Autisming. Just because you think through details of needs and how something might work in a full flow-diagram mega tree of options, doesn’t mean everyone does.

And I do think he is going to be a bit more of a pickle than they think with these early impermanence trauma complications, more so than pure simple separation anxiety I think. And I suppose we would just be adding another stone to that wall, with him leaving us for yet another brand new set of humans… Or is that just justifying myself?

(Though one more neutral thing is that he lies flat with frog-legs a lot:)

(EDS people recognise that hypermobility? They’ll be able to check him for hip dysplasia/its level if so when he gets snipped, but our vet friend is at least a little unsure on their health and wants him on joint supplements if he stays (a lot easier than Brigsy since this one isn’t allergic to seafood). And we do know what his therapy exercise needs and the hydrotherapy people well)

How do you know whether to trust that people see something right in you? Or is that also a form of arrogance - not trusting other’s assessment of you? Bah. Sorry. This is what happens when I start actually blogging on the blogging site.

Have some compensatory puppy pictures: