#whelp that's another fic in the books
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atonalginger ¡ 1 month ago
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I'm Your Huckleberry, Final Update!
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Howdy y'all and happy Friday! We did it, we made it through the party and now it's time for the adults to have some fun! Will the universe let them have the evening to unwind? (we all know the answer to that is no)
This story was an idea that's been percolating in my head since spring and I've been chipping away with, with far more revisions and restructuring than most of my stories to find the balance of angst and comfort I felt was needed. Hopefully I pulled it off.
To hop in at Chapter 13 and read the last two chapters you can click HERE!
To start from the very beginning you can click here.
And as always, a snippet under a read more:
“Becker’s supposed to be getting the crew out of the telegraph station,” Bog mentioned, “Shinya spotted some vials on feed that shouldn’t be here.”
“It was inevitable,” Delgado shrugged, “anyone go with our snake kisser?”
Jamie slowly turned to look at him, surprised not at what he said, she had known Becker’s family worshiped the Great Serpent for most of her life, but that he knew at all. Becker was tight lipped about their faith, only sharing it with a rare few people.
He smiled at her, clicking his glass with hers before taking a sip and answering her unspoken question, “they’re addicted to jumping. Physically can’t stand staying in the same system for more than a few days.”
“Plenty of adrenaline junkies stay on the move,” Jamie countered.
“How many of those junkies keep shines to the Great Serpent on their ships?” Delgado leaned forward, “had enough snake kissers in the fleet to know the signs.”
“Wrecker went with Becker,” Bog chuckled at the rhyme, “said he was going to knock the dingbats’ heads together before banishing them to a ship for the night.”
“Good,” Delgado raised his glass to Bog, “you taking care of yourself?”
“Nursing a beer,” Bog smiled, “it’s been a good day.”
“That it has,” Jamie raised her glass.
There was a commotion outside in the direction of the ships. Shouting no one in the saloon could make out over the music and chatter of the party. Fox made a face and ticked his tongue, clearly assuming his deputy was involved.
“Someone tell them to keep it down,” Delgado pointed with his glass never leaving his hand, the brown liquor splashing up the side, “if any of them wake up the kids Bella will have their fucking hides.”
Through the windows Jamie thought she saw Cora and Manny hustling toward the ships. She frowned and put her glass down, wondering what those two were up to at this hour. Maybe Samina and Daiyu had sent the pair to quiet the zoned pirates but something gnawed at her, telling her that wasn’t the case. Fox shared a look with her, letting her know he too felt it. Something was wrong. Wrong enough to tickle the precognition gift the artifacts gave her. Her stomach went sour and her lower lips started to ache, Jamie reflexively sucking on it to sooth the pain of a phantom injury.
Bella stepped out of the saloon with Rokov as the shouting got worse, a few stray Spanish curses from Manny cutting through. Delgado slammed his glass down on the counter and bolted for the door without a word, a fire in his eyes as he turned to leave. 
“Well…that’s bad,” Bog said. He reached under the bar and killed the music before tossing his rag onto the counter and turning for the side door, “Shinya, what’s going on out there?”
From the small back office Shinya answered calmly, “Four newcomers. Landed as Wrecker was stuffing our zoned darlings onto their ship for the night. Old man with a cane and a lady on his arm plus a younger couple. Soon as Becker saw them they started shouting. Looks like when the kids got to the gate the younger couple lost their shit and Manny responded in kind.”
“Fuck,” Fox pushed off his stool, “it’s them.”
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scaly-freaks ¡ 7 months ago
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Snippet of Rhaena/Aemond from my AO3 fic which I probably won't be able to fit into the work itself because...plot issues. Might write bits here, I don't know. We'll see.
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tw // implication of dubcon
"WHERE IS SHE?"
For such a petite woman, his wife screams like a banshee. But to her little dragon - that raw, pink, ugly creature - she coos like a siren, all trills and undulations.
Rhaena's arm sweeps across the table, sending his books scattering. Half of them belonged to her grandfather, along with a few scrolls from Yi Ti scribed in a language Aemond has yet to decipher. He pores over them in the evenings, following along with Corlys's annotations - he never had much opinion on the man beyond helping to kill his wife. But Aemond must admit that he had a sharp mind for linguistics.
"Your dragon - " he pauses to finish reading a line of script, thumb pressed to the ink-stained paper. " - is safe. Don't fret."
Rhaena's voice dips low, trembling with rage. "Give her back. She needs me to feed her. She won't feed unless I prepare the bottle - "
"That's funny. She was feeding just fine when I left her with the dragonkeeper." Aemond flings the scroll on the table, and tosses one leg over the other, hands folded across his stomach.
He smiles at her - that cold, cruel, curl of a smile - and waits for it to sink in.
For months now, he has been patient, allowing his wife to come to terms with the reality of their marriage. Granted, he had forced his sister to give her stepdaughter over in marriage as the only elder left in that wretched household, but there was no mistreatment beyond that. Rhaena had her own chambers, her own separate life. All he asked was that eventually, she turn her mind to the reality of ruling a great house.
Heirs.
"Give her back," she repeats, and he almost feels sorry for her. It is clear she is struggling to draw air into her lungs, the absence of her dragon has her so distraught. "Please."
"Give me what I want and you can have your dragon."
"Sire a bastard and have your brother legitimise it. Isn't that what you fought the war for? So that you could both do as you wished? Now this realm is yours. Go! I give you permission. Find a whore and sire a whelp, but first return my dragon to me."
Aemond rises from his chair, slowly, so as not to alarm her.
Ever since the incident in the riverlands, Rhaena has treated him like a caged tiger, giving him a wide berth where and when she can. When he is reminded whose daughter she is, her fear strokes his nerves like silk on velvet, satisfies that deep, sadistic pit in his stomach he has nursed since the first time he watched Vhagar's flames swallow a man whole.
He won't hurt her - the girl is too precious for that sort of bad behaviour - but her fear keeps her in line, prevents her from choosing treason in her bid to escape. Besides, her mother's dragon now keeps watch, turning her childhood home into a prison, one which she has tried and failed to run from. The irony is steeped in poetry.
Rhaena takes a step back, and then another, glassy eyes searching his face for any indication he will accede.
"I want heirs off you." Half the battle is won through physical stature, and Aemond towers over his wife in her delicate rose-pink dress and gold-braided hair. She is a petal, easily plucked and viciously torn, unlike her sister who is all thorns and ice. "A boy, another boy, and then maybe a girl. Little fishes to populate Corlys Velaryon's grand, old Driftmark."
She is staring at him as if her mind has left her body and walked a hundred miles into the sea, deep under the white foam, to a place where he cannot reach her. Except a single trace of his finger down one of her braids brings her twitching back to him.
Only one question remains.
"So...do you want your dragon back, Rhaena?" Aemond asks, sugary sweet.
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bonecarversbestie ¡ 3 months ago
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I'm doing this tag bc i've never done one before. thx @zenkindoflove for always tagging me in these even tho i never do them pls don't stop.
Doing this tag feels a little funny since i'm so new to writing and i only have 2 fics, but here we go
1. How many works do you have on AO3? 2
2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 23,375
3. What fandoms do you write for? ACOTAR
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?  whelp this is awkward bc i only have two 😅
The Scenic Route(Elucien multichapter WIP)
Reverie(Elucien week oneshot)
5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! I literally sit by my computer after i post waiting for them to come in bc i love attention.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? N/A. All my angst is in the beginning/middle. my endings are all happy so far.
(Although, I do have a bullet point in my fic ideas file that is a Haunting of Hill House rewrite but Autumn Court/Forest house, and if you've ever read the book, you know that calling the ending "angsty" would be an understatement)
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? So Reverie is very short and is sorta set after Elucien have already had their happy ending(in more ways than one ;) The ending of the Scenic Route is also happy and it took way more work to get there, so I'd say that one.
8. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I'm like the writing equivalent of a toddler right now--I'm still learning to write regular stuff haha. I want to write smut one day, but need to take my baby steps to get there. Even when i do, though i think it will not be as explicitly descriptive of the acts themselves, but more emotionally driven (I really like the style of the sex scenes in Song of Achilles if that gives you the vibe)
9. Do you write crossovers? I don't think i'm creative enough for that tbh
10. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope. maybe one day.
11. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I have not. I don't even know how that would work esp bc i am a control freak, but i'll never say never.
12. What is your all-time favorite ship? I have a handful of OTPs the primary one right now is obviously Elucien, but I have a special place in my heart for The Doctor and River Song(Doctor Who) and Dramione(who i never really shipped when reading the books, but this was the ship that got me into fanfiction and now i'm addicted)
13. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? So my Current WIP is already completely drafted, i just have to edit and post it, so i'm not worried. I do have an outline of a really long High King Lucien fic started that i worry i won't finish before their book comes out (and that once their book comes out i won't be motivated to write it any more, but we'll see)
14. What are your writing strengths? This is hard because i'm so new to writing, i feel like i don't have any strengths yet, but I'm gonna say dialogue, because it's what i enjoy writing the most. most of my first drafts are very dialogue driven and i fill in the story around the conversations
15. What are your writing weaknesses?  Internal monologues/explaining characters emotions. I tend to leave out details/explanations of a character's feelings because I know what they're feeling and i just expect the reader to inherently know everything that I know even though it's impossible.
16. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I love when people do this, but my spanish and french are both so rusty i don't feel confident enough to try. Maybe some latin in future works for spells and stuff, but in terms of dialogue, probably not.
17. First fandom you wrote for? Acotar! I only just started writing in June of this year, so i haven't had the chance to write for other fandoms yet, but i'd like to eventually.
18. Favorite fic you’ve written? The Scenic Route! i mean i only have two to choose from--and i have a soft spot for Reverie since it was the first fic i ever posted--but I've put a lot of time and love into The Scenic Route, and I'm excited to finish sharing it. ❤️
~*~
I'm not tagging anyone bc i don't know anyone(who wasn't already tagged). 😬
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dodger-chan ¡ 4 months ago
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Ten questions for fic writers:
Thanks so much for the tag, @greenlikethesea
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
69
Whelp, guess I should never write another fic, huh? (I will absolutely be writing more fics)
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
245,961
3. What fandoms do you write for?
At the moment, Stranger Things. I've previously written fic for Les Mis, X-Men (film universe), Overwatch (video game), Glitch (tv series), Umbrella Academy (comic), Dracula (novel), The Witcher (tv series), and Marmalade. Plus a few anime last century.
My usual m.o. is one of two fics exploring personal headcanon but the more I talk about a show/movie/book the more of those I develop, so the more fic I end up with.
4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I try to. I tend to get few enough to get back to everyone.
I used to not, but I got several nice replies from authors to comments and I realized that I could do that, too. So thanks Stranger Things authors, for being so friendly.
5. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not to my knowledge.
6. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
@sharpbutsoft and I developed a shared universe, A Bliss Like This, a Jazz Age steddie AU. But the individual fics in the universe are written by one or the other of us
I did co-write something with a classmate back in highschool, but I have no idea what happened to it, or if I'd even be willing to link it if it was on ff.net or someplace similar.
7. What's your all-time favourite ship?
I really don't have one. I tend to go for "opposites attract" sorts of pairings, where their differences are appreciated.
For me, shipping is mostly about exploring one or more of the characters involved. How they affect each other's development, how interacting helps them better understand themselves.
8. What are your writing strengths?
Tight povs. I will stay in one character's head even when they are very, very wrong about what's going on.
9. What are your writing weaknesses?
The boring parts. Plots, mainly.
10. First fandom you wrote for?
Uh, as in actually wrote down and posted somewhere? Fushigi Yuugi, I think. That or Gundam Wing.
So, what other fic authors to tag? @cchapsticck , @rosethevoid and anyone else in the mood to participate.
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kudzuoath ¡ 1 year ago
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I'm embarrassed to not be anon for this but I want to try and write some Gale fic and I'm just in awe over how well you've captured his "voice" in your work. Do you have any tips for that? Either Gale in particular or just in general?
Thanks!!
Asdfghjkl anon you have no idea how flattered I am to hear this. Gale kind of comes easily to me because. Well. I too am someone with a big vocabulary that just. Uses it. That said, I’ll try to string together some tips!
1) if you can say it with more words, or more “complex” words, you should. Though be careful of using the thesaurus tool— some similar words have very different meanings!
For example instead of saying “your dog ate my shoes” go with something like “it would seem our canine companion has developed a rather unfortunate taste for footwear — mine in particular!”
(His habit of using ten words where three will do is particularly funny given how annoyed he is with Elminster for doing the same thing. Albeit more archaically.)
2) related to the above but use metaphors and go purple with his dialogue. He’s a self confessed poet who has thousands of books. He’s probably read all of them. Gale is often using metaphors (and something else.. similes? The proper term escapes me) in conversation. For example in his romance scene in act two he says something like “the weary sun makes its nightly dive into the sea”.
3) while this man seems to think he’s better off dead, he often projects an air of self confidence capability and knowledge. He can definitely be catty, even if it’s a stealthy kind of catty! And he will make his opinions known.
4) “cat owner” voice. The infamous “stop licking the damn thing!” Line. I don’t know why this helps me but it does. Another line/moment that helps me keep things sorted is that if you break up with him, he legit cries. But says “I seem to have gotten some dust from the road in my eyes” or something to that effect.
5) Gale has a sort of blasé “whelp, everything has gone wrong, must keep going” air as a baseline. Which isn’t to say he doesn’t care, just that he seems like the sort distance himself from painful things. And he’s canonically spent at least a year isolating himself from everyone except his cat.
And that’s all I got! Other than just listening to his lines in game. I find if I can mentally hear a character, it helps me keep things in line. This is helpful for ALL characters, even ocs. At least for me. A voice claim helps me keep my dialogue consistent to itself, and unique to whoever is speaking.
Good luck!! If you write a thing, send it to me and I’ll read it! :D
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loganofthenorth ¡ 2 years ago
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Me: Alright, everything's quiet, my physical needs have been taken care of, I want to write, and brain rot about my OCs isn't in the way. Let's get to work!
ADHD toddler that lives in my head: Give me five good reasons why we should work on the work in progress
Me: 1. We get positive feedback when we update this story, which really benefits our mental health, self esteem, and motivation to write other things
2. We ended the WIP on a cliffhanger last time we updated it and it needs to be resolved
3. There is no reason not to work on the WIP
4. Autism- *points at the Autistic hermit sitting next to me*
Autistic hermit: *waves while reading a Sanders Sides transcript, a book about dolphins, and an article about clementines*
Me: - needs a routine to function, and this is a big part of that
And 5. We are fortunate enough to have parents willing to support us so that we can make writing our full time career. If we don't actually write, those two- *points at Anxiety and Depression*
Anxiety: *pacing around with a list of problems to resolve in our projects and muttering about our lack of productivity lately even though we've been productive just in other ways*
Depression: *sleeping and not bothering us because we have enough dopamine from earlier mentioned comments and interactions on Tumblr to keep them at bay for the most part*
Me: - will make life harder for us by making me feel bad for wasting that support.
ADHD Toddler: 1. Yes, that's true, but if we keep writing the WIP I'll get sick of it and want nothing to do with it anymore
Me: But we're almost done, we only have a few chapters left.
ADHD Toddler: 2. We updated that, like, two days ago? Three days? Idk how time works. Days have just felt like weeks lately for some reason so it just feels like a long time when it isn't. They can wait. Also- *gets distracted by a squirrel*
Me: Are you done?
ADHD Toddler: Huh? Oh, right...
Me: ...
ADHD Toddler: ...
Me: Well?
ADHD Toddler: What was I saying?
Me: You said people can wait for a cliffhanger, then had another point.
ADHD Toddler: Oh, right. So, these people watch Sanders Sides, right? They're used to waiting like six months or lately more than a year for the next important chapter.
Autistic Hermit: Huh...
ADHD Toddler: 3. I gave you a reason when addressing your first point, we'll get sick of it if we don't work on other things too.
Autistic Hermit: They're... Actually using really good logic...
Me: I know, it's terrifying
ADHD Toddler: 4. Routine smoutine. I'd rather have poutine.
Autistic Hermit: There it is
Me: Yep...
ADHD Toddler: And, finally... *gets distracted by a lightbulb*
Anxiety: Whelp that's it we've spent an entire hour doing absolutely nothing, we're clearly not getting any work done tonight
Me: *sighs* ADHD, if I let you say your last point, will you let me work?
ADHD Toddler: Huh? What last point?
Me: Never mind. We're going to write a really cool story now, okay?
ADHD Toddler: Okay!
Me: *gets my IPad*
ADHD Toddler: This was fun, you should post it on Tumblr.
Me: Oh yeah sure!
ADHD Toddler: Oh, right! I remembered! 5. I don't see why you think you've wasted their support by not writing all the time. Last year you wrote, edited, designed a cover for, and self published a novel of your own in one year. While doing that, you also balanced friendships, worked on your mental health, wrote like, what, three full fan novels and are about to finish another one? Not to mention all the unfinished fan fics you have that made people happy, and all the role plays which might as well be novels. Just because you're not making money yet, and you're not writing every day, doesn't mean you're wasting the support you were given.
Me: ...
Autistic Hermit: Who the hell have you been talking to? Where has all this logic come from?
ADHD Toddler: We're hyper fixated on Sanders Sides
Autistic Hermit: Fair enough
ADHD Toddler: *gasps* What if we like, made our own you tube series but like, instead of aspects of the personality like Sanders Sides it's our different disabilities?
Autistic Hermit: You thought about that before
Anxiety: We don't have the same resources Thomas Sanders has to make it professional
Autistic Hermit: Like a *shudders* team of people to work with
Anxiety: *also shudders* Or space of our own to film in
Depression: *murmurs* Or the motivation to keep dedicated to that for long...
Autistic Hermit: Or the cameras, lighting, sound equipment, video editing skills, ability to make a polished costume,
Anxiety: we can't mask Autism's traits long enough to get a good recording
Depression: *murmurs* And we don't fit conventional beauty standards enough to do well in a video based algorithm...
ADHD Toddler: I guess we'll just have to find another way to make a series that gets us a fandom one day... You know, since the book we wrote didn't get immediate results so now I'm being petty.
Autistic Hermit: Our book series is a long term project. It will get more recognition as we continue to publish the series.
Anxiety: It would get more recognition if we made more adds
ADHD Toddler: But why make Tik Toks no one interacts with but two hundred people see when we could make Tumblr posts that no one sees but two people interact a lot with?
Me: *sighs* This is getting us no where
Anxiety: Stop typing on Tumblr and get to work or we might lose our ability to work forever
Autistic Hermit: But that doesn't make sense. We've gone a long time without writing before
Depression: *murmurs* We did get a lot worse at writing after that though...
Me: I think that's more because ADHD got worse during that time so writing became harder
ADHD Toddler: Yeah
Anxiety: *scoffs* At least they admit it
Me: Anywho, I'm tagging this now, clicking post, and then we will work on our WIP. My apologies mutuals for the long post.
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cheeseandcake-from-ao3 ¡ 1 year ago
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Whelp. Here it is. The good Dain AU fic that I made because it was chosen again. (I'm just being mean. I loved writing this and thank you so much for voting-)
Yet another oneshot, this time at 2,264 words. Featuring the fandom's favourite Ol Dain during the Sister of the South book.
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wing-ed-thing ¡ 3 years ago
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Casually (Kankuro x Reader)
Synopsis: All Kankuro wants to do is ask out the cute florist that comes to deliver flowers to the office, but of course working with your siblings means that you can never get a moment of peace.
Word Count: 1,167
Warnings/Tags: Gender Neutral Reader, Minor Original Characters, Attempt at Humor, Humor, This Fic is Actually Kinda Ridiculous, Fluff, Nervous!Kankuro, Florist!Reader
Notes: I felt in a bit of a goofy mood so here y’all go
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Mr. Watanabe sent Mrs. Watanabe a bouquet of flowers every week like clockwork. Where Mr. Watanabe got the money to be able to shell out for weekly flowers, Kankuro didn’t know. After all, not many floral species grew naturally in the deserts of Sunagakure, meaning that the bouquets were grown for a high price in the village green house or they were imported. And with Mrs. Watanabe working as a secretary and Mr. Watanabe working part time in daycare, the large, vibrant vase of flowers served as an unspoken mystery for Kankuro to walk by at least twice a day.
But he had no complaints. Not when you were there, because twice a week you would bring Mrs. Watanabe her flowers. You checked your card, you had her sign, and oftentimes you would chat with her by her desk during slow periods at the Kazekage office. And Kankuro was sure that at the very least, he had held the door open for you once before pretending to be busy nearby. He had a hard time admitting, even to himself, that he felt flustered by a florist. That Kankuro, bodyguard and right hand to the Kazekage, had a difficult time talking to the local florist.
“Another beautiful selection, Mrs. Watanabe!” Your voice cut through Kankuro’s thoughts. He never spent too much time on the first floor before, but for the past few months he had offered to run paperwork whenever he had the chance. You lightly kicked open the door, a vibrant group of flowers hiding your face. Kankuro looked up from the paperwork that he was discussing with the secretary as you made your way over. You placed the vase on the counter.
“Those are very nice,” Kankuro said, inwardly kicking himself the moment the words left his lips. He tuned out Mrs. Watanabe who raved about the colors in the background. You smiled at the petals before turning your attention to him. Kankuro leaned against the counter in an attempt to look casual.
“Right? I got a whole bunch of seeds from the Land of Water for a really great price. They’re just so different and gorgeous.” Kankuro didn’t know how to respond. He never engaged in flower discourse before. You motioned to him, eyes lingering to the corner of your vision. “And you are Mr…” Your forehead scrunched up the slightest bit.
“Kankuro,” he provided quickly, “Just Kankuro. And you are…” You offered him your name, although he already knew it. You smiled, but centered your attention on Mrs. Watanabe as you provided her her card and the receipt to sign. When you glanced back at him, you did so expectantly. Kankuro scratched at the back of his neck through his hood. “Hey, um, if you ever have some free time—”
“Kankuro!” Temari burst through the stairwell door, her reading glasses on and a few manilla envelopes in her arms. “Did you ever end up processing that paperwork that was supposed to go to the Leaf? They keep sending me letters about how they haven’t gotten their copy of the files and I swear I’m going to shoot down the next Hokage bird that comes to my window.” He held up the small stack of papers in his hands.
“It’s right here. We’re going to get it by the date that we told them we’d get it, so tell Shikamaru to…” he trailed off, subtly glancing your way before clearing his throat. “Tell Shikamaru to wait.” Temari groaned.
“You’re no help. I swear I have to do everything around here!” You could still hear her frustrated grunts as she retreated back up the stairs. You turned back to Kankuro.
“You were saying?” You blinked at him and Kankuro had to take a moment to process what it was that you said.
“Oh, yeah!” Kankuro almost jumped back as he shook his head. Out of all the missions he ran, all of the times he risked his life for his country, he had never felt as flustered as he did. He kicked himself, trying to channel his usual, self-proclaimed, charming cockiness. “Uh—” He leaned back against the counter, extra casual this time. —“So if you’re free at some point this week…”
But before he could get the second half of his sentence out, the doors burst open and a flurry of sand spilled across the floor. Gaara trudged in, robes dusty and slightly tattered. Kankuro immediately rushed to his brother’s side only to be stopped short by Gaara’s halting palm.
“Mrs. Watanabe,” Gaara spoke in his usual gravelly voice. Mrs. Watanabe hummed, perking up behind her desk. Gaara trudged towards the stairwell. “Please cancel all of my appointments today. I wish to be in my office undisturbed.” She scribbled a few things in her book before holding up a thumb with a wrinkled smile.  
“What happened to you?” Kankuro asked and Gaara stood still.
“The sand and I got into a disagreement.”
And without another word he disappeared, leaving a large, suspiciously Gaara-sized pile of sand behind. Kankuro let out a sigh, knowing that he would have to add checking in on his brother to the list of things he had to do before the end of the work day. He ran his hands over his face, careful as to not smudge his face paint. You cleared your throat behind him and Kankuro turned to your concerned, dumbfounded expression.
“Does he do that—”
—“all the time.” Kankuro nodded and you took a sharp breath inward. A pause overtook the front office as you studied the sand slowly drift across the floor, the front doors still wide open.
“Whelp, um… Mrs. Watanabe, you have a great day.” You began to collect your things. Kankuro found himself at a loss as he stood alone in the middle of the entryway. You motioned to him, forehead crinkled again as you thought. “And you were trying to tell me something, but I actually have a few more flowers to run—” Kankuro tried not to look disappointed.
“Oh, uh, yeah. For sure…” He considered joining his brother in a bit of midday sulking. Maybe the next time around he could approach asking you out more like a mission. Maybe he wouldn’t get so uncharacteristically flustered—
—“So why don’t you just tell me at dinner tonight.” You maneuvered past him with a smile with your pen pointed in your hand. “That is, if you’re free tonight. Because if you are, you can just meet me at the flower shop.” Kankuro shook himself out of his shock.
“Yeah, that sounds great!” he said with nothing to lean on this time to look casual. He stuck a hand in his pocket as you left through the open doors. Kankuro gave a slight wave with his other. Mrs. Watanabe glanced up from her work over the glasses that sat on the tip of her nose.
“Do you even know where the flower shop is?”
Kankuro shook his head, still a bit dazed.
Notes: Despite the silliness I think I kept everyone in character...?
Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.
@brokennerdalert​
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feather-dancer ¡ 3 years ago
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Crystalline Moonlight for the made-up fic title
I'm so behiiiiind anyway scrambled to get this done before midnight. Troll dads are on a date!
Oh what a grand night klokaran had decided to grace them with upon this very eve! Winding it’s way through the trees bramla carries the barest hint of winter chill speaks neither of words nor visitors impending and it is all he can do to bask in the idea for a moment or two longer as they walk. It is such a rarity for there to be nary a whelp who needs guidance nor training underfoot and while he will always wish the trio well in their own days of enjoyment it is rather nice when they can have one themselves. Months might be little more than a penny in the ocean to their kind but it made such things no less appetising and in fact the very second the conundrum got wind of such a fabled time coming he was ushering them out the Market the moment the Ram finally departed as fast as he could.
Taking a deep breath for luck and health Blinky cannot help the merry spin of he heels with one set of hands coming to rest on his hips when he comes to a rest buried into the sideburns of mossy fur to ask the all-important question earning a faint contented rumble. Were there music playing he would have quite liked to take this moment for a dance given there is enough space out here with no fear of being seen which could cause any feeling of self-consciousness but alas. Something to bookmark for another occasion perhaps if they can borrow one of the strange music boxes that seem to be all a rage amongst the humans nowadays.
“What do you think we should do with ourselves, my friend? I believe it is your turn to pick.”
“Hmm…” Ah he must have forgotten, quite understandable in the circumstances. AAARRRGGHH prefers to think through his options very great care before making a decision so he steps away to give him amble space to do so. They had discovered so many brand-new locales through his choices that never would have occurred to him alone such as the one known as Magellanshe was introduced to curtsey of following a cat’s tail. While it was not the most obvious to visit it often had fascinating objects for perusal in their window and even barter for if something caught his eye. Humans never seem to lose their habit of an unconditional yes when presented with what they considered precious gems. Diamonds seen as more than a fancy form of shade lamp? Such strange ideas.
“It was the scrapyard last if it helps, I would not at all be against the idea if you are interested in finding what snacks they went and left for us there. More parts for one of my little projects are always a boon.”
“There first?” The way it is said is with a particular air of mischief matched in green eyes and it makes his mouth quirk slightly higher at the edges. How could he even consider saying no to such a handsome sight? It does pique his curiosity greatly however, what sort of scholar would he be if he did not pursue an answer…
“Of course! Though might I acquire what you mean by first?” He is given a gentle pat between his horns accompanied by a rumbling chuckle that is felt far more than it is heard.
“Surprise~” Now if there was one thing he loved nearly as much as the krubera it’s a good mystery. While books are incredibly entertaining there is something particular special about one he can get all four hands into that is ready and simply gagging to be solved. Sure sometimesthey might dive straight into conspiracy but what are they if not an alternate form of fascination? To have something in that vein from him directly colludes into a perfect moment!
“Oh is that so?” He replies half coy despite having clapped all hands together in a loud clunk in delight.
“Well then please lead on! I am quite intrigued what you have in store for us tonight.”
The path they took is one long-worn through various habitation and nature’s slow and steady reclamation on the outskirts of Arcadia where there is far more cover then the more dangerous streets. It allows his mind to wander upwards to the open expanse of sky where it’s heathy bounty of stars always reminds him so much of the tiny sparkles embedded in AAARRRGGHH’s stone or the way his markings light up creating a spectacle even against the darkest canvas. The underground is beautiful in a myriad of ways but there is nary a thing that can compare to the beauty above and even they pale in comparison to his other half. Simply by his presence he adds to the soundscape and helps smooth away the irritation silence frequently causes his racing mind. That they were separated for any length of time still greatly pains his core and frequently haunts his night dreams, the stillness felt all-consuming in it’s existence.
After being asked to wait a moment at their initial stop Blinky continues to wonder aloud about whatever it was that laid ahead given there had been many an hour spent rummaging for whatever delights this place might host. Why would only a short visit be required? He must be very certain that the whatever is here and that still doesn’t explain where exactly they are going. Perhaps a bumper had been left here that would be rather lovely, the last one unfortunately didn’t quite fit. What he certainly does not expect is the other troll reappearing with a scuffle of fine black ribbon attached to his front pair of horns and some form of bag in his fist given away only by the dainty handles peeping out from his fingers. Curiouser and ever curiouser!
“Well aren’t you looking rather dashing?” As soon as he is able to he reaches upwards to give the right most ‘flower’ a little pat and the texture reminds him a little of those Walkman things that seemed to barely exist for a moment before interest had been lost. Shame really, they made wonderful food when paired with the right mushrooms and seed. Fashionable and a snack in one, how lovely.
“Mmmn, accessorise. Like it?” He is positively beaming and he can almost feel himself swoon at such a sight.
“Very much so! Shall we continue our grand jaunt of intrigue?” With a sound of affirmation it seems that they were off once more though with no more clue as to where nor what exactly needed to be picked up from here specifically. It is hard to completely quell the bubble of excitement and it does make him all a jitter while walking though with the fond looks thrown his direction as often as they are he must be managing to keep it mostly contained.
… Returning so close to human habitation is certainly not what he had in mind however. It is an odd sort of place called Granada Drive-In according to the giant sign and is not one he immediately recognises. There is a strange large white coloured rectangle situated at a great height far across from them and an open flat space with a few cars haphazardly parked between the white lines (Odd) all facing towards it much like he was being guided to be from their vantage point on the left. They’re out the way enough that it is unlikely they will be spotted without their own view being interfered with though the question of what exactly it is continues to elude him and does not abate when encouraged to sit. He does as he’s bid of course and continues to tap his chin in thought.
“Wingman said moving picture fun, watch with someone special,” the krubera says while seating himself behind Blinky then leaning over the tiniest bit to rest his chin between the horns of the smaller troll to cuddle closer. Letting out a happy sigh at the feeling of him leaning back into the comforting embrace and offers the other mystery, a striped carrier bag filled with a multitude of incredibly tempting metal snacks.
“Very special.”
Unable to properly press their foreheads together as he’d prefer for such a wonderous moment Blinky takes the next best option in the form of raising his head to gently butt the stone surrounding him in both appreciation and pure love. One pair of hands take the bag to secure it between them for easy access while the upper two rest on the surrounding forearms like he was upon a throne.
“That you are my friend, that you are. I believe Master Jim calls this popcorn, such an odd name. You really did think this all through didn’t you?” The rumbling laugh tells it’s own story and it appears they were just in time as the screen lights up with the opening trailer before today’s feature.
~ Fighting evil by moonlight - Winning love by daylight ~
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romanianwilkinson ¡ 4 years ago
Text
MORE DISCORD SERVER SENTENCE STARTERS
A collection of quotes from my Discord server with friends. Feel free to change pronouns/wording as desired. CONTENT WARNING(S) FOR: Suggestive, crude, gore, absolutely cursed. [ PART 1 ]
“ Can your father send us child support? Same answer. ”
“ NO GENDER, ONLY LEGION. ”
* Bed rocking, aggressive bike horn noises *
“ [NAME], you are a fucking blight upon my sanity. ”
“ Is being super gay an advanced war tactic? ”
“ Look you have to tell me if this slapping will bring about the eldritch truth, or it's enslapment. ”
“ Fucking, this is still on the most mundane side of your fetishes. ”
“ New law of science. If an autopsy turns into an orgy you did something wrong. ”
“ I AM NEMISIS, DESTROYER OF THE JACK-O-LANTERN. ”
“ If we have a quiz tomorrow, the questions will be: 1) how to burst a mosquito, 2) how to tear your gut, and 3) what will the aliens look like. ”
“ I'm cat girl adjacent. ”
“ Make sure to vaccinate your computer, [NAME]! ”
“ SNOW IS JUST WATER YOU CAN BEAT UP AND BULLY. ”
“ A zombie goth. A zoth. ”
“ Slaughter’s good. I like slaughter. ”
“ They know your sins. ”
“ Why so many loose beans? ”
“ I want him to try it, SPECIFICALLY for the cyberbullying. ”
“ Today I leave y’all an Immensely Cursed Artefact. ”
“ Not the knowledge I was expecting tonight, but glad to have learned it anyhow. ”
“ It’s, unfortunately, not the worst thing that’s been turned into smut fic. ”
“ Poor organless [NAME]. ”
“ Help, I'm only seeing glowing weakpoints on you... This isn’t sexy at all! ”
“ Whelp, time to make everyone MILFs and DILFs then! ”
“ Ok, nothing is getting ‘ misted ’ in horny jail. ”
“ YES, FEED THE TOAST TO [NAME]! ”
“ The only bones I have are teeth. I’m like a snail in that regard. ”
“ This is just SCP Containment Breach: Horny Edition. ”
“ And what's at the bottom of the stairs? Another baby gate. ”
“ That’s what I’m banking on. The arrogance. ”
“ How much XP fucking a demon gives you is important adventuring stuff? ”
“ This is honestly the weirdest form of lust I've ever felt from someone. ”
“ I am holding your face metaphorically when I say this for emphasis. ”
“ My rage runs cold. ” “ Yeah, so does your liver, and it fucking sucks. ”
“ We have many flavors. They are all red. ”
“ I still lose my shit over those gushers like... What kind of psychological warfare was that? ”
“ ... So you WON'T tell me a bedtime story? ”
“ Look, I'll just be my own MILF. ”
“ Listen, she's not stereotypically pretty, but she's pretty in a way where she balances elegance and grotesqueness and that is like top tier pretty. ”
“ So THAT'S where the stick went. ”
“ Ooooh how I wish it would rain down... gays on me ♫ ”
“ FUCK, I CAN FAIL AT THINGS NOW? THIS IS BULLSHIT! ”
“ I wanna put the war god in the jar! For no reason! Just pranks! ”
“ I don't... think monsters come in straight? ”
“ Thankfully, I have enough titty to compensate for everyone else's lack of titty. ”
“ WE DESCENDED INTO BITING EACH OTHER ONCE AGAIN. As it is the standard state of existence for us. ”
“ What is execution, if not legal murder? ”
“ I almost forgot that most drugs are illegal. ”
“ [NAME] could bust into my room right now and say ‘ Hey, I'm drafting you into my demon army ’ and I'd simply hop into her arms. ”
“ For you, you know I would do much more than grind you into a paste and spread you far and wide! ”
“ ... We have graduated from Feral Anger to De-escalation Mode. The fridge may not be knocked over, after all. ”
“ THE TEXT ITSELF IS GAY, NO UNDERLYING TONE IS NECESSARY. ”
“ I know you’re small. You got that scrambling energy. ”
“ No shirts, no shoes, only gays? ”
“[NAME], I'm booked to terrorize you with visions of Christmas Future tonight. Just giving you a heads-up. ”
“ It's not a callout post, if you're just stating facts. ”
“ Therapy is a motion-based predator. ”
“ Please think of me but in a sexy way. ”
“ There is a sexy way to think of you? ”
“ YOU WHAT OUTTA HER MOUTH??? ”
“ Sometimes, it's okay to eat your friends when they insult you. ”
“ The twink has breached containment. ”
“ YOUR JUDGEMENT CANNOT STOP MY NOCTURNAL LIFESTYLE. ”
“ [NAME] is surprisingly malicious. ”
“ ... I am convinced [NAME] is on mind control shrooms. ”
“ You fool, he’s echolocating. ”
“ Snap him over my knee like a fuckin Slim Jim. ”
“ Hank Hill Ass Havin Twink. ”
“ Pff- as if I don't know how to handle a cursed sword. I'm a professional here! ”
“ OH NO. THE SMILIE OF SUFFERING. ”
“It’s Twink Hunting Season and [NAME] is a goddamn trophy buck.”
“ You put those cursed words back in your mouth or so help me. ”
“ Losing a thumb will do that to you. ”
“ GIVE ME DARKNESS. GIVE ME SNACKS. GIVE ME WIFI. ”
“ Got no clue, let me go ask the only one I know that hasn't tried to kill me. ”
“ This. This is why I drink when nobody's looking. ”
“ Hey... want to fly closer to the sun there, Icarus? ”
“ I'm burdened with just enough Naruto lore to be dangerous. ”
“ PUNCH! THAT! ASS! ”
“ That reminds me, I should Beanpost again. ”
“ I have no soul, only void. I feel NOTHING for tormenting friends. ”
“ That’s a lie, you are LYING. You love this and I know you love it. ”
“ We have subjugated the tiddy. ”
“ This is the carbon requirement for human transmutation. ”
“ I mean. Vampire fucker rights though. ”
“ At least take him on a date before you ask him to elope with you! ”
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tack-tick ¡ 4 years ago
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Technoblade Sometimes Dies
Second and final chapter of my fic. First chapter is here- https://tack-tick.tumblr.com/post/644771793511579648/technoblade-sometimes-dies
Thanks to everyone who read the last part! Honestly wasn’t expecting that many! You have any questions feel free to ask! Have a nice day!
ao3 link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/29849562/chapters/75614876#workskin
It had been three days.
Three days of Philza staying in the van they hadn’t even finished rebuilding yet. He had already moved a mattress into the room for him to stay. He refused to leave until Techno respawned.
He didn’t want him to wake up alone. He could start making things up for him by staying here. It was the least he could do.
Philza sighed as he looked at the set of papers in his lap. One set was five pages long and filled with convoluted details about the surrender. Dream was making sure that there were no loopholes, that was for sure. Philza had already tried to read through it but he was more worried about the other papers.
All it had on it was “Dear Tommy and Wilbur”. That was as far as Philza had gotten on this one and the five others that had been crumpled into balls and tossed over his shoulder.
How was he going to explain this to them? Despite how much they bickered at home, he had seen time and time again that his sons were always loyal to each other. Hell, Tommy would probably rush over here just to confirm it in person. That “The Blade” had actually been beat. If Tommy came then Wilbur would come. Philza didn’t want them to come to this dangerous mess of a server.
He didn’t want to be the cause of his kids getting hurt again.
Philza put the papers aside and nibbled on one of the muffins Bad had made. He had insisted that Philza take a nap along with them, but Philza couldn’t afford to sleep now. He gave a quick glance around the room.
Techno’s old red cape and crown were laying on a table beside the bed, some of the few personal possessions that had been salvaged from L’Manberg. There was also Techno’s favorite book,The Art of War, that Philza had managed to find a copy of. It wouldn’t have all the notes that Techno’s personal copy had but that had been lost in the explosion. He had started a small fire and curtains had been hung up so that the sun wouldn’t be as bright through the holes in the wall.
The only thing missing was Techno in the bed, either asleep or reading the book.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” Philza said as he reached for his sword. He held it at the door.
“It’s just me, Phil!”
Philza sighed in relief as he lowered the sword. It was just Tubbo, the kid who stayed with Niki. He was carrying a basket and Philza could smell the scent of fresh bread. “Niki wanted to come but the bakery is swamped,” Tubbo said apologetically.
“Tell her not to worry about it mate,” Philza said as he placed the basket down beside him. Tubbo quickly glanced at the bed before he sat down on the floor beside Philza.
“I got a letter from Tommy,” he said with a frown. Philza furrowed his brow at that. Even though the two boys had only communicated with letters so far, Tommy had already told him that Tubbo would be his best friend. Honestly, Philza believed him and he was only slightly dreading the day the two would meet and most likely cause chaos together. They’d beat Wilbur and Schlatt by a mile. So, it was odd that Tubbo didn’t seem happy about getting a letter. “He, well he asked about the duel.”
Ah, that was why. Tubbo didn’t know how to break the news either.
“Have you told him yet or...?” Tubbo said. Philza looked down at the paper and sighed.
“That’s what I’m working on mate,” he said as he stuffed the paper in the pocket of his robe. As much as he wanted to wear the L’Manberg jacket, he had almost overheated in the thing. The robes were more comfortable, he had to admit that. He looked down at Tubbo, who opened his mouth before snapping it shut.
“What is it?”
“Oh, well I don’t know if it’s the right time to ask,” Tubbo said as he averted his gaze from Philza.
“Ask away, I needed to talk to somebody anyways,”
“Do you know what it’s like?” Tubbo said, looking past Philza at the empty bed. “To respawn that is.”
“Well, I’ve been lucky enough to not experience it myself,” Philza said, the familiar lie slipping from his lips, “but from what the others have told me,”
He looked away from Tubbo and back at the bed. “It’s like you’re drowning in a black ocean and you have to swim back up,” he said solemnly, “but something keeps on yanking you down over and over again. You’re stuck there for what feels like ages, clawing your way back to life.”
“Well that...sucks,” Tubbo said with a shudder. “Thanks for keeping us out of the fighting,”
“No problem,” Philza said. It was true that he’d had to keep Niki and Tubbo out of the country until the war was over, even though they’d both asked if they could join. They were so young, too young to go through the pain of respawning. It was bad enough that Ranboo had gotten involved, the poor kid was still shaken up from The Final Control Room.
Tubbo stood up and stretched his arms. “Whelp, it’s getting late and I don’t want Niki to worry.”
“Yeah, you should get home,” Philza said as he looked up through the hole in the ceiling. He must’ve missed the sunset because he didn’t remember stars being there last time he looked up. “Stay safe, alright?”
Tubbo gave him a nod and walked towards the door before he turned around. Philza gave him a confused stare before Tubbo went back to him and wrapped him up in a hug.
“I may not know him that well, but based on what Tommy’s told me,” Tubbo said, “He doesn’t seem like the type of guy who gives up easily.”
Philza chuckled a little at that. “Thanks Tubbo but trust me, I know,” Tubbo separated from him and gave him a smile.
“He’s gonna come back, I just know it!” Tubbo said and with one last wave he left.
Philza looked back at the bed and yawned. Yeah, he knew Techno was coming back. He just had to wait a little longer.
Philza yawned again as he turned to look at the fire. He rested his chin in the palms of his hands as he looked at the blaze. He saw the world go slightly dark as he opened his eyes back and forth.
“Can’t sleep yet,” he muttered to himself.
He hoped the blaze of the fire would keep him awake through another night. He yawned again.
+
Philza didn’t know when he fell asleep but he woke up to a rough voice.
“Hey, wake up Phil,” he groaned and slowly opened his eyes before he saw someone sitting on the bed. His eyes widened at the person in front of him.
“Techno?”
Even though he had darkness under his eyes and his hair was a tangled mess, it was definitely Techno. Philza could tell just from his eyes, the bright red was dimmer but they still had the same stubborn determination in them. That was good, Philza hoped it never went away.
“Techno, mate I-“ Philza tried to continue but he couldn’t think of what to say. He couldn’t stop staring at him. What in the world could he say? It was his fault Techno had died. It was his fault that Techno had to go through the pain of respawning, something he would never wish on anyone. Let alone one of his boys.
“Are you alright?” Techno said and Philza glanced back at him. Techno had his arms crossed but Philza could see through the tough act he was putting on. Techno kept on glancing around the room and he was clutching tightly at his red cloak.
“Techno, you don’t need to worry about me right now!” Philza said and he carefully reached towards him. He slowly pulled Techno into a hug and frowned when he felt Techno wince as he leaned into him. “Is it sore?”
“Not like it was in The Void,” Techno said with a shudder as Philza pulled him closer. Philza sighed and gave him a gentle pat on the back.
The two sat there in the moment, just appreciating the fact that they were both alive. That they were still sticking together, like they always had.
“Stop calling me soft, Chat,” Techno murmured under his breath. With that, the moment passed. Philza slowly let Tehchno go, being careful not to hurt his shoulder.
“Oh, Chat’s in a frenzy aren’t they?”
“Twitch, yes,” Techno said with a roll of his eyes, “I think they were even louder in The Void.”
“So, you’re saying the all mighty Chat got scared in there?” Philza said with a small chuckle.
Techno gave a quick laugh and then let out a hiss of pain.
“It hurts to laugh, Phil.”
The two became quiet at that. Techno glanced around the room again.
“Oh, been meaning to ask,” he said and nodded towards the thick set of surrender papers that had fallen off of Philza’s knee. Philza picked them up and handed them to Techno.
“Surrender papers, boring to read,” Philza said. All the legal jargon in it gave him a headache. Techno looked at them and smirked.
Then, he unceremoniously tossed them into the fire.
“What the fuck, Techno!” Philza said, trying to keep himself from yelling so as not to wake anyone up. He started to get up to try and maybe save them but Techno grabbed his arm and sat him back down.
“Relax Phil, I’ve taken care of it already,”
“What do you mean by that exactly!”
“What, you think I didn’t have any backup plans,” Techno said with a huff, “Honestly Phil, I’m almost insulted,”
“Techno, what the fuck did you do?” Philza said with a glare. He hadn’t thought Techno had been awake that long but apparently he had just gotten up and started cutting deals with people. Techno making deals was how he had ended up with one less life in the first place!
“I got our independence, that’s what!” Techno said with a triumphant grin.
Philza looked at him and blinked once, then twice.
“How did…?” He said with a shocked stutter, “You aren’t fucking with me, right?”
“I gave up Pigstep,” Techno said, “I made a deal with Dream that if I lost, I would give it up for independence.”
Philza could only gape at him. He knew how much Techno cared about that old thing. Him and Ranboo had fought with Dream over it again and again. Techno might as well be telling Dream that he lost by giving it up.
“Phil, why are you crying?” Techno said.
“Well, I’m partly overwhelmed mate but,” Philza wiped at his eyes as Techno awkwardly looked to the side, “I don’t understand why you’ve given up so much.”
“You gave up your home, your stuff, your life,” Philza stopped with a suck of his breath as he tried to calm himself down. He could feel more tears dripping down his cheeks. The big one was left unsaid but Philza still remembered.
He remembered when Techno had desperately dug through the rubble of his house. How he hadn’t stopped for hours until his hands went raw from the dust and cuts. How he kept shouting Carl’s name over and over again until his voice had gone out.
He’d come out of there with a bloody saddle in his hands and murder in his eyes.
“I don’t want you giving up so much only because of me,” Philza said as he looked at the many scars that Techno had acquired during this war. Scars that hadn’t been there before and wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for him.
“Phil, look at me,” Techno said and Philza obliged. “I promise you I wouldn’t have given up one of my lives for this if I didn’t genuinely believe in what you’re trying to do. Because if I trust anyone to make a government work,” He said with a calm smile, “It’s you.”
Philza let out a watery chuckle. “Jeez, that’s no pressure or anything,” Techno rolled his eyes at that. “But, thanks mate. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
Philza suddenly had a slightly disturbing thought. “Techno, how long have you been up?”
“Oh, just an hour I think.”
Philza immediately shot up from his seat at that. He could feel his wings instinctually flap up and his blood pressure was probably rising again. “Bloody hell, Techno!”
“Relax Phil, I’m fine.”
“You’re supposed to rest Techno! So that you can heal properly!”
“Phil, come on!”
“I’m serious mate! Go the fuck to sleep!”
“I mean, I was thinking we should tell the others that I’m currently not dead.”
“I’ll do that tomorrow. You need your rest!”
“But Phil-“
“Technoblade Minecraft,” Philza said with his long-since perfected dad glare. “You go the fuck to sleep right now or I will ground you.”
“You can’t ground The Blood God, Phil!”
Philza just raised an eyebrow at him. Technoblade sighed and carefully laid down, using his thick cape as a blanket. Philza fondly smiled down at him as he tucked the cape over him.
“Phil, Chat wants you to tell them good night,”
“Oh alright, good night Chat and good night Techno,” Philza said. He turned around and went to his mattress that he hadn’t even used yet over the past three days. It was time to use it too as he felt waves of exhaustion suddenly hit him. He laid down and closed his eyes to go to sleep when he heard it. He heard soft breathing from where Techno was.
He was already asleep. Good, Philza had known he would be out fast. He tucked the blanket over himself and closed his eyes to go to sleep. There was a lot to do tomorrow, after all.
Tomorrow, the others will see Techno again. Tomorrow, he’d write that letter to Wilbur and Tommy. Tomorrow, he’d officially invite Niki and Tubbo into L’Manberg. Tomorrow, they’d have the biggest celebration because they were finally free.
Yes, tomorrow was the start of a new beginning for L’Manberg.
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idabbleincrazy ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Lineage ~ A Missing Scenes Ficlet
Fandom: Angel (Buffyverse)
Rating: T
Pairing: Spangel
Characters: Spike, Angel, Mentioned: Wes, Fred, Dru, Angelus, William, Anne Pratt
Word Count: 1425
Warnings: Angst with a hopeful ending, Mutual pining (kinda), Introspection, Sire/Childe dynamics, Vampire Dynamics/Vampire Family Dynamics, Parental Issues All Around, Missing Scene Fic, 5x07: Lineage, past Spangelus
Summary: Spike muses on his failed attempt at comforting Wes, and finds some comfort of his own from Angel.
A/N: Minor warning of Spike reflecting on his mother's demon and the things she said before he staked her, but not detailed. I really had to think long and hard on what scene i wanted to expand on for this one given that it was a Wesley-based episode with only slightly more interaction between Spike and Angel than the last. Think I did pretty good at bridging the gap to help ease the way into the happenings of Destiny.
Feedback is golden!!!!!
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Spike watched Wesley beat a dejected path back to his office, a pang of sympathy aching in his silent chest for the ex-Watcher. His wording may have been off-putting, but he did understand quite well how Wes would have felt for those scant few seconds when he thought he’d killed his father. After all, unlike most vampires, he hadn’t wanted to kill his mother. He’d tried to save her, and had been gut-wrenched when the demon in her turned out to be so wretchedly vile. He had only wanted to give her her health back, show her the kindness a loving mother deserved, only for it all to be thrown back in his face, for the truth of his mother’s long-hidden hatred of him to be revealed once the soul no longer kept her from speaking it. 
Was this why the majority of other vampires killed their parents, rather than share the gift their Sires bestowed upon them? Did their lack of a soul finally pull the wool away from their eyes, finally allowing them to see how their fathers had tried to mold them in their image with no thought to what they might want, how their mothers would clutch them to their breast but only to keep them under their thumb, the only way to feel as though they had some semblance of control over anything in their pre-planned lives? Had they finally seen the truth that their parents only loved them so long as they remained in line, kept their heads down and did as told? Less and less fledges bothered to seek out their parents for their first kill these days, but Spike had put it down to the fact that Sires barely bothered to stick around long enough to see them fight their way from the dirt, let alone order them to kill off their family. 
He had once figured it was a rite of passage, from one life to the next; scratch out your old family to begin again with your new. Because that’s what your Sire was, along with anyone else of the shared bloodline, family. Any other Childer they still kept with them and their own Sires, if they had stuck around, were family. Near pack-like in their devotion, and with similar pecking orders, each Clan had a duty to their blood, and so, he had always figured each fledge had been told to rid themselves of any mortal ties as a show of dedication to their new life, an act of fealty. Maybe he’d been wrong, maybe he was just one of the few who had been fooled into thinking they had actually been loved by their parent. Drusilla had never thought to order him to kill his mother, had never explained the deeper meaning of it. And by the time he had met Angelus, the mishap had already fled his mind, tucked away as just another tragic loss, and he never thought to ask.
Spike sighed, shaking himself from his thoughts. Any more brooding, and he’d start turning into Angel. Lord knew he did enough of that for the both of them. 
Spike decided it was worth a check-in with his Grandsire; knowing him, he had probably done the same thing he had in an awkward attempt to comfort Wesley, calling forth the remembrance of killing his own father once he had risen from the grave. At least the pillock was talking to him again, instead of turning him away with a wordless look or grunt, or ignoring his presence all-together. He still couldn’t quite figure out the whole cold-shoulder stint, and was anxious to keep it from happening again. He was after all, family. The only one left who he could still turn to. Family had always meant too much to William for his own good, and Spike was just the same, no matter the years between the two lives. Angelus had treated him like family, much as any vampire could, and that bond still smouldered there, regardless of all the pain and anger of their past. Too deep to smother even with a pair of souls between them. Odd, that even as a not-quite-a-ghost, those feelings lingered, bolstered even, by this new level of loneliness that came with his intangibility. 
He floated through the closed door of Angel’s office, and as expected, found him staring out the window, lost in thought. 
“Can feel you brooding from all the way out in the lobby, mate. Take it you tried to comfort Percy too, eh?”
“Yeah,” Angel spoke softly, not turning from the view as Spike sidled up alongside him. “Don’t think it worked very well. Killing your father in a hatred-fueled bloodlust isn’t exactly the same as thinking you killed your father to protect someone you care about.”
“Guess not. Don’t worry, Peaches. You’re not the only one with egg on ‘is face. Told him ‘bout me mum. There’s a bit of info he probably never got from all those books at the Academy.”
Angel huffed a quiet laugh, turning to look over at Spike. There was an odd sadness in his eyes as he regarded his insubstantial Childe. Spike felt almost as though he were standing in another ghost’s cold-spot as his Grandsire considered him, a shiver running down his spine. 
“You always were more human than demon, weren’t you William?” Angel ignored the look Spike gave him at the use of his old name. “You tried to save your mother, instead. I’m sorry that didn’t work out for you the way you had hoped.”
“Nah, worked out for the better, in the end, didn’t it? Angelus woulda had a field day takin’ the mickey out of me for it, straight away. A fledge with mummy issues. Do wish the demon in her hadn’t shown itself to be quite so crass though. Took a while to shake that off.”
Angel frowned, knowing all too well what Angelus would’ve done. How he would have tormented the boy to no end, used his mother to bring him to heel, only to stake her right in front of him. He found himself wishing yet again that he could reach out and actually touch Spike, the demon in him wanting to provide some paltry comfort to the melancholy Childe beside him. 
“There’s a reason why fledges aren’t meant to Sire anyone. Whelps, either. Had Dru been thinking clearly, she would have thought to forbid it. The turn, it doesn’t work out right if the Sire isn’t at least close to master status. I’ve heard tales of it going even worse than your attempt. What your mother became, wasn’t her. A demon that unfit would have taken even the purest love and twisted it.” 
Spike was grateful he couldn’t cry in this ghostly form, his eyes stinging with the unshed tears. He focused his thoughts and reached out to lay his hand over Angel’s where it rested against the back of the couch, his lips curling up into a sad smile. 
“Thanks, Grandda. Not sure how much I really believe that, but thanks all the same. Reckon it provided me more comfort than either of us gave Head Boy.” Angel huffed again and looked down at their hands. Spike gave his fingers a squeeze, his soul lifting a bit as he saw Angel register the feeling with a flutter of his eyelids. “Saw Brain Girl headed over to ‘is office, maybe she’ll do a better job at it than us, yeah?”
“Hmm, hopefully. Fred’s usually pretty good with that stuff.”
Spike pulled his hand away and made to leave, not wanting to wear out his welcome so soon as he’d regained it. 
“Guess I’ll be off then, let you get back to your musin’.”
“Spike.” Spike paused mid-turn, his head tilted in confusion. Angel rolled his eyes to diffuse his own nerves. He spent weeks keeping his Childe at a distance and figured they could both do with a bit more of each other’s company; he knew how much the boy hated being alone so much. “You can stay, really. I can brood just as easily with you here.”
Spike scoffed and returned to his spot, this time his hand merely resting on the couch next to Angel’s, unwilling to push his luck. He may not quite be walking on eggshells with his Grandsire, but he could feel how fragile their companionship still was. He could make do with the silence for now if it meant they were taking a step closer to what they were before.
“Ta.”
~~~~~
@thewhiterabbit42​ @prose-for-hire​  
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elrielllll ¡ 5 years ago
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“Perfect” part 1
so, I’m relatively new here and I’m loving all the fics, especially elriel (they are so pure) and i’m bored in quarantine so i thought i’d have a go at writing my own! whelp here we go.
Also massive thank you to my amazing best friend Ems, (tags still not working sorry hun) for helping me when I was freaking out
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“Au Revoir miss!”
“bon journée!”
Elain smiled as all her students ran to to door in a rush, shouting good byes as they left. She stood holding the door open, wishing she could run after them.
“Oh Rory don’t forget your bag” Elain said as she saw the tiny kid with glasses hanging off his face, He looked back and grabbed it looking grateful.
“Merci miss bye” he shouted as he ran past
Elain laughed, “de rien, à bientôt Rory” still chuckling as she shut the door and rested her head against it. God she loved those kids but they were a handful.
With a sigh she moved across the room straightening desks and chairs, picking up lose bits of paper and pen lids and looked at the clock.
Two more hours, a department meeting,get on top of a few lesson plans then she could head home to pizza and wine. She hoped. If there wasn’t some staff emergency or some protcall practice or a safe guarding issue where she would have to see all of the teachers in a hall. Even the maths department. Even Grayson.
It was great at first, being with him. Great, all the teachers loved it and some of the students even clocked it and were massive “shippers” whatever that meant, until it wasn’t great. And he got mean. And nasty. And spiteful. 
It went on for too long before Elain decided to put a stop to it, much too long.
She started shoving books and papers into her bag, wishing she’d joined Cassian at the gym sometimes, needing superhuman arm strength to carry them to her car. 
“Hellooo”
Elain jerked up to see Feyre stood at the door, apron on, hair tied up with a pencil, paint on her face. Typical art teacher as per usual. “You good?” Feyre asked, tilting her head
“Yep, yeah all all good” she replied, standing up with a smile.
 “Fabulous, so” and just as Feyre was about to launch into another story about some amazing artwork or terrible artwork or funny artwork or artistic artwork or something the voice rang out over the speaker
“All teachers to the hall for a meeting all teachers to the hall for a meeting thank you”
Brilliant. “Come on” Feyre said standing up “ let’s move”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes”
“Really have to?”
“yes” Feyre said tapping her foot
“on a scale of 1 to 10-”
“Yes come on” Feyre groaned as she dragged Elain to her feet and pulling her by her arm to the door and probably to the rest of the way to the hall. Luckily the language block was at the other end of the school so if she just walked slowly-
“Come on Elain or I swear I will pick you up and carry you myself.”
Elain grumbled but walked arm in arm with her sister. “You know Rhys was saying how the school wants a new sports hall built so it’s probably about that, maybe funding or cuts”
That’s just what they needed, another bloody sports hall and less resources for languages. It’s always languages.
Feyre carried on “ I think Rhys’ brother’s company is building it, it’s the easiest one on short notice plus they’re really good’
“I thought Azriel was out of town” Elain wondered, still dreading this meeting.
“He has been, I think he had some work in London but it’s finished and he’s back up North, don’t know how he dealt with those southerners” Feyre shuddered.
“Hmm” Elain agreed. Feyre and Rhys started dating around 5 months ago, he was the head of the directors for the school so it was all very hush hush but when Feyre finally told her, she had met Rhys and Feyre’s new family straight away. It was just after she had left Grayson so she was sure she didn’t make the best impression with all the useless wallowing and whatnot but they all seemed nice enough, Mor, stunning, lovely and scary. Cassain, big loud and scary. Amren, small and scary. And Rhys, nice and posh and well spoken scary.
Elain remembers when she didn’t find the prospect of new people so daunting, but that was before she learned just how scary people could be.
She’d heard all about this mysterious Azriel, apparently the only sane one according to Mor, but hadn’t thought much of it or him, probably more focused on trying to figure out how to mark 300ish papers in a day.
Crap. Speaking of papers she had her Year 10s to mark tonight, it was their first mock for their exams and she had them tomorrow. Oh shit she had so much work to do without those papers to mark, oh for-  
Elain felt a sharp kick on her ankle and glared at Feyre who apparently was too busy making heart eyes at Rhys across the hall to notice. Elain looked across the room, not wanted to see more people in love than she had to. Honestly her students were bad enough. 
She wasn’t looking for him, she never was, he just always seemed to be there. In the corridor, staff room, field. she couldn’t get away from him. Sure enough he was there. Coffee in hand and completely oblivious to her. 
Story of her life. 
Elain closed her eyes, clearly the only safe option and forced herself to listen to the slimy head teacher.
 “...due to the new sports hall being built by the Velaris building company...”
“now let me introduce you to the head of this operation, Azriel”
A man, Azriel she guessed, stepped out of the shadows with a nod to the people before him. Hazel eyes scanning the room, hand resting in his pockets emphasising his arms and the tattoos that decorated them. 
Elain had never found tattoos attractive before. 
He swallowed, throat bobbing as he ran his hand through his unkempt hair.
As he scanned the room those eyes locked with hers for just a second before moving on and her breath caught in her throat. 
Ça alors.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next Chapter
Masterlist
okay well tell me how bad it was and if you want to keep reading be warned that there will be many and I mean MANY cheesy tropes. But don’t we love it?
Also part two will either be up later today or tomorrow :)
Bisous x
Tags:
@stars-falling​ @cirieael​ @abraxos-is-toothless​ @suppengott @candid-confetti​ @nite0wl29​ @tyheronthorn​
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damienthepious ¡ 4 years ago
Text
owo november is over babesssss back 2 your regularly scheduled full-size lizard content
Made A Garden (Chapter 3)
[ch 1] [ch 2] [ao3]
Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast
Relationship: Lord Arum/Rilla
Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Rilla’s Parents, The Keep
Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, (categorized as ‘other’ bc arum is nonbinary when i write him bye), Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, POV Alternating, canon typical Arum ignoring feelings, edited to feature my Rilla's Two Dads theory
Fic Summary: Rilla’s parents take her out when they do field work. She’s a smart kid, and she knows how not to get in trouble when they’re caught up with their experiments and research. This time, they’ve taken her to an enormous, beautiful swamp, and their theory is that the monstrous presence in this place should be entirely dormant- which is why Rilla is so surprised, when she meets a monster for herself.
Chapter Summary: Lord Arum tries to prove a point. Rilla gets excited!
Notes: no, i absolutely did not mean to take this long between chapters. i promise that i NEVER do. i'm just an easily distractible mess, is the thing. welcome to december here are the summery vibes again!!! loveyou
~
The Keep murmurs a question, a song that whispers in Arum's mind, awash with affection and concern. Are you not going to walk your swamp today, little Lord?
Arum scowls, pacing in a narrow figure eight as he reads through one of his predecessors’ journals. Again. “I do not need to do the same thing every day, Keep,” he grumbles. “And don't call me that.”
It hums an assent, clearly unconvinced. It pauses for a long moment, allowing him to continue his reading, but he isn't surprised when it chimes again, a light offer of assistance, a nudge towards what the Keep may do, to protect the both of them, if Arum wishes to have his swamp to himself again-
“Don’t-”
The book tumbles from his hands, thwumping to the floor as Arum winces.
It sings another nudge, pushing further in that direction, encouraging and warm.
“I simply do not feel like gallivanting around today!” he snarls. “It has nothing to do with her.”
There is another pause, and then the Keep trills in a vague, bemused sort of way.
Arum snatches the book back up from the floor with his tail, then clutches it to his chest. “I am not afraid of the humans,” he deflects, sticking his snout in the air. “They are utterly nonthreatening. They aren’t warriors or knights- they are some sort of- explorers,” he says derisively. “Scholars or researchers or some such. No threat, none at all.”
The Keep hums, even softer, how that will make it all the easier, to chase them out-
“No!” Arum stuffs the book back onto the shelves, his tail lashing behind him and his frill high. “It- it isn’t worth your effort, Keep. If they come close enough to be troublesome we can- can push them back away, but as it stands they hardly bear mentioning. It is highly obnoxious that we have spent even this much time discussing them.”
The Keep hums, clearly unconvinced, but Arum turns his snout up. He has ended the conversation. The conversation is over, and the humans need not be mentioned again. Obviously.
However. Arum has now put away his book, and he does not, in fact, know what he wishes to do next. He intended to spend his morning decoding and researching, but now- well, thanks to his meddling plant, he is far too agitated for that sort of focus-driven task, and he refuses to waste time trying to plug away at old Vetch ’s journals when his mind is not at its keenest. It would be pointless.
The Keep warbles again, and Arum bristles at the teasing edge in its tone.
“Fine,” Arum snaps after a moment, his frill fluttering at his neck. “Fine. If you should like me to prove my words, then I shall. You are in my mind, you ridiculous creature, but if that is not evidence enough for you, I will deign to assuage your pointless worries. I am not afraid of them,” he says, the hint of a snarl in his controlled tone. “I am not, and I will prove it. I shall go, and I shall walk my swamp, and no humans nor ridiculous ancient structures will deny me what I wish.”
The Keep hums one more question, its concern not quite assuaged.
“I know what I am doing!” Arum snarls, and he tries very hard not to wince when his voice creaks in the middle. “I will not be patronized! Am I Lord Arum, Keep, or am I some whelp for you to coddle and dismiss?”
It sings, patient, that he is Lord of the Swamp, and then after a moment it acquiesces, pulling a doorway open for him, out into his wilderness. It adds, gentle, that its duty is to protect Arum, just as Arum’s duty is to protect it in turn, and Arum stuffs down the little lance of guilt that stabs through him at that. He sticks his snout in the air, instead.
"And so I shall, if you simply allow me to do as I please."
The Keep pauses, and then it gives an indulgent hum as he steps out into the humid warmth of the afternoon.
Arum waits with his arms tangled across his chest until the Keep closes the way behind him, and then he-
He manages perhaps a half an hour inspecting his swamp before the curiosity worms through his scales. His tools and traps seem to be growing well, and those left by his predecessor are, he begrudgingly admits, even more promising. The fauna of the swamp seem perfectly content as well, with no management required from his part (excepting a particularly unlucky mongoose with a paw trapped between some tangled roots, but that hardly takes more than a moment to rectify).
He can't simply return home, though. Not this soon. That would hardly prove his point, would it? It would make the Keep insufferably smug, especially considering the wide berth he's given the humans and their little encampment.
Well. He can fix that part, at the very least, can't he?
It will play into the Keep's vines just as much to seek the humans out, he thinks irritably, but if he is going to lose regardless he may as well lose in the way he wishes to. He is not afraid of them, and if he wishes to make certain that they are not causing trouble, if he wishes to prove to the Keep that they are nonthreatening in no uncertain terms, then by the Universe itself he will.
They are embarrassingly easy to find. It is as if they have no desire to obscure their presence at all. Amaryllis mentioned, he supposes, that they had not been expecting to find much of an active monstrous presence here, but certainly since Amaryllis knows better now-
Has she not… told her parents? Or are they simply unworried over Arum himself, despite every reason they should have to be concerned? Clearly their hypotheses were wrong, so they should reassess their methods, should they not?
Her parents are doing something incomprehensible with glass vials full of swamp water. They perch carefully in a narrow canoe, each counterbalancing for the other as they gather their… samples, perhaps. Arum watches, suspicious, long enough to note that they are rather careful not to disturb the trees they are paddling between, that they avoid the floating flora. He watches long enough to observe as one of them accidentally ducks his hand too deeply into the water, his nose wrinkling as he pulls it back, and then he-
Grins, and his grin is the precise image of the one that Amaryllis wears, and then he flicks the water across the back of his companion, laughing as he squawks and smacks him in the leg.
They both laugh, then, and Arum is unsettled enough that he slips away.
Amaryllis herself it not difficult to find, after that. Still within earshot of the laughter as it subsides, unfortunately, but- the laughter does subside, and Amaryllis is smiling as she sketches away in that little journal of hers.
He watches her for quite some time as well, and he settles against the bark as he does, and he is comforted by the fact that he was, of course, correct.
These humans are entirely without teeth. He is certain that if he desired, he could frighten them away even without the Keep's help. He has no cause whatsoever to worry about them. No reason to fear, no reason to even keep an eye on them.
He remains in the tree for a good long while, however, watching Amaryllis summon with ink the detailed veins of leaves, the segmented bodies of insects, meticulously reconstructed pieces of his swamp.
~~~
Rilla yawns, suddenly, nearly startled by her own body's derailment and only barely managing not to ruin her latest sketch with an errant line. She grumbles to herself, shaking her head, and then she narrows her eyes at the page again, scrutinizing the roots she's drawn for this floating plant uncertainly. She's seen the roots when pulled out of the water, but that's not really representative of how they'd look underwater. She's tried to get a better look with her own head submerged, too, but- well, her eyes aren't really meant for that, and the water here isn't the most clear, either. She holds her breath for a moment, puffing out her cheeks, and then she huffs out the breath, tapping a finger on the page impatiently.
"They spread a bit wider than that," Arum says from above her, and Rilla startles. "And they curve slightly when there's a current, though I suppose most of the ones you've seen here would likely be in more calm waters than that."
Rilla tilts her head up, squinting against the sun until she spots the vivid violet of his eyes gazing back, narrowed and hesitant now that she's looking at him.
"…oh," she says, a little hesitant herself. "Uh-" she just barely stops herself from thanking him, considering how grumpy he got about it the last time. "Neat?"
"Hm," he grumbles, glancing off into the canopy rather than continue to look at her, and she bites her lip in consideration for a long moment.
"Would you- do you wanna show me what you mean?" she asks, lifting the book in her hands just slightly, and Arum's eyes dart to her again. "I think I know what you mean, but…"
He grumbles something, either wordless or just too quiet for her to understand, and then he slips further behind the leaves for a moment. She can still hear the scritch of his claws against the bark, though, which seems like a good sign. When he disappears, he seems to be able to do it without making any sound at all. She hears him growling low as he descends, and then his head peeks out from behind the trunk of a nearby tree, his eyes narrowed again in suspicion.
"Or…" Rilla angles her body a little, leaning sideways to see just a little bit more of the monster before he leans the opposite way in response. "I mean, you don't have to, if you don't-"
"Of course I don't have to," he snaps, "I don't have to do anything. I am ruler here. If I wish to ensure that your catalogue of my home is not full of incorrect information that is my business."
He steps out slightly, two clawed hands still curled around the trunk of the tree beside him, and Rilla realizes with a widening of the eyes that he has two other hands, as well, because the monster apparently has four arms, in addition to his long, twiggy legs and his dexterous tail. She hadn't been expecting that, hadn't realized that in between his first appearance mostly under the water and his second up among the branches, this is the first truly good look she's gotten of him so far. She knows that it's rude to stare, of course, but- but does that really count for scientifically significant and anomalous anatomies?
"Well?" Arum says, apparently wary of her scrutiny. "Do you want me to show you how it grows or don't you?"
"Which hand do you write with?" Rilla blurts, entirely unable to help herself, and Arum blinks.
"Whichever I wish to?" he answers, his scaly brow raising in confusion, and then he comes a little closer, watching her carefully as he reaches a hand out for Rilla to pass the journal to him. She doesn't hesitate, practically shoving it into his hands, extra plural implied. "Does it matter?"
"I mean-" Rilla watches him, noting the way he holds the book in his two lower hands, sketching with his upper left. "Yeah? Can you write with all of them equally well?"
"I'm a monster, not an idiot," he mutters, "of course I can write with all of them. It would hardly be convenient otherwise."
"But-" Rilla wants to bounce, instead she just steps a little closer, watching as Arum switches hands and continues to sketch with equal skill, his own style less detailed and more impressionistic than her own. "I mean, that's not how it is with humans, you know? Most people have a dominant arm that they can more easily perform tasks with, and usually they get so used to using the one arm for specific detailed tasks that the other one falls out of practice and isn't useful for the task anymore! There's a strange prevalence, too, a trend towards- the right hand side is more likely to be dominant than the left, and no one really seems to be sure why, just yet, though I bet we could figure it out if we just did a little bit more research. Though! There are people who can use both arms equally well, or- I mean, I guess some folks probably just train themselves to do so, and maybe it's not entirely an ingrained trait? I'm not sure about that one. Those people are called ambidextrous, which I guess would be okay to call you for a similar trait? Though, it means both sides, so I think a more accurate word would be omnidextrous, as in, all of your hands, though I don't know how many monsters have your limb configuration so it's hard to say how useful a word like that might-"
Arum narrows his eyes, his frill pressing tight against his neck as she talks, but she doesn’t recognize his annoyance for what it is until he interrupts her in a stammering hiss.
“S-slow- will you stop- will you stop yammering on so quickly that only your own shadow can follow? It is infuriating.”
Rilla snaps her mouth shut. She's convinced that her cheeks are flushing dark with the combined anger and embarrassment that smacks through her. This is even worse than when the shopkeep in market square told her to just shut her squawking little mouth already when her father sent her to fetch supplies by herself for the first time. Worse, because she never actually liked that shopkeep very much, but Arum-
“S-sorry,” she says, and her voice comes out quiet and blank and clipped. "I- sorry."
Arum huffs, wrinkling his snout and looking away, and then after a moment he flicks his eyes back towards her. She swallows, her shoulders hunching, and after another odd little pause his brow furrows.
"Well?"
She blinks. "W-well?"
He looks away again. "I did not think you were… finished with your explanation, little human."
"I- I wasn't, but-" she pauses, and Arum hazards another glance towards her, his expression wary. "I thought you- I thought you wanted me to shut up."
Arum pulls his head back. "What? No, I simply-" his frill flutters at his neck, and then it rises to frame his face as the monster winces. "I- I could not- understand, while you spoke so- so quickly. I do not converse in this way very often."
Rilla feels the sense of shame slowly, slowly bleed away, replaced by curiosity. "How do you… usually converse?" she asks, and Arum scowls.
"Monstrously," he says with a sneer, but when she only purses her lips at him he sighs. "I and my- my parent, as you would call it, do not need spoken words to communicate. They are merely … one layer of how we converse. It sings, and I sing, or speak, and we feel each other's intent," he explains, sticking his snout in the air. "It is far more efficient and accurate than a simple verbal exchange."
"Huh," Rilla says, furrowing her brow. "Huh, that's- I mean, Saints, yeah, that�� that sounds like it would be nice." She pauses, frowning at her hands. "It'd be… It'd be nice if there was someone who always knew exactly what I meant."
After a moment, Rilla raises her eyes again. She expected Arum to have some sort of response to that, honestly. Seems like the sort of thing he'd leap at the chance to boast about, but- well, he looks distracted now, deep in thought. He seems to feel her attention, though, and he shakes his head.
"It is… nice, I suppose," he agrees, his tone a little begrudging. "It is difficult… difficult to imagine not having such. I suppose it must make it harder for you and yours to understand each other," he muses, "though, I suppose that you do still sing together."
Rilla blinks. "How… do you know that?"
Arum's eyes widen, and then he looks to the side, shrugging. "You were singing when I first found you," he says quickly, unconvincingly. "I simply- assumed."
"You've… you've been watching me?" she says, her tone rising, and Arum winces. "You've been watching my family?" She isn't even sure- she can't say if that idea bothers her, exactly, though it probably should-
"I- of course n-" Arum's eyes flick anxiously among the trees, and then his frill presses flat against his neck and his expression curls into a scowl as he looks her dead in the eyes again. "You are on my lands," he says, more sharply. "You are trespassers, not guests, so you may hardly complain when you are observed by those who are actually meant to be here. To live here."
Rilla opens her mouth, closes it, opens it again. "Well- yeah, I guess that makes- sense. I just- I was surprised, I guess."
Arum blinks, and then his scowl goes even more furious. "Don't pretend to be- to be magnanimous about it, little creature, I saw the look in your eyes, I saw what you were thinking."
"I was surprised," Rilla says again. "And- and I didn't think you'd want to hear me sing. Most of the other kids don't."
Arum snaps his teeth together, a thin hiss slipping between them, and then he looks away again. "I- I didn't say that," he grumbles. "And- and I am not some other kid. I am a monster."
The word kid sounds- strange in his inhuman voice. Almost silly. She buries a laugh, mostly because she thinks that would probably make him even more grumpy. "I-" she starts, and then she cuts herself off as a thought occurs. "Huh. I had just been assuming … you are a young monster, though, aren't you? You're not just- small?"
Arum's eyes flash, and Rilla- Rilla can see for a moment that he's considering- something. Lying, maybe? And then he glances away again.
"I am the… new Lord of the Swamp," he mutters, begrudgingly. "But I am not a child. And I am not a hatchling anymore, either."
Rilla bites her tongue to stifle her curiosity at the distinction, but when she opens her mouth to respond, Arum interrupts.
"And I am not small," he snaps, a raspy growl in his throat. "I am precisely the size I am meant to be at the moment, and it is hardly my fault if other creatures feel the need to be so unnecessarily large."
Rilla can't help the laugh, this time, and it seems to derail Arum from his ranting. He stares at her as she presses a hand over her lips, and then he ducks his head, looking at her sulkily.
"You… do that rather a lot, don't you?"
"What," she asks through her fingers, "laugh?"
"Indeed. Do you find everything quite so amusing, then?"
Rilla tries not to feel- that stab of mortification again. She bites her lip, and the monster shakes his head.
"Don't-" he stumbles, winces, and then tries again. "I'm not demanding you stop. It was simply an observation and a question. Nothing more than that."
It's unexpected, honestly, that he would catch her reaction that quickly, and she nods more out of surprise than anything. "I just- laugh when I'm happy? Or- when I'm surprised sometimes."
He tilts his head. "Hm."
"You… you don't seem to laugh that much," she says, hoping that it just sounds like an observation in kind and not like a judgment.
"Hm," Arum says again, and then he looks down at the journal still in his hands, at the wavering lines of his sketches beside her own neater, less accurate ones. "No, I suppose I don't."
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lilmistermaya ¡ 4 years ago
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when you follow strange trails
(sort of ) MDZS fic. half original, half fanfic. I dunno. have the first chapter.
“Little sister,” Nie Minghue said softly, well, as softly as he could ever be. “You can come down now. I’m not your enemy.”
There was a rustle of leaves, a branch shifting the slightest as the girl hiding in the tree climbed down to a lower limb. She had hid her presence well, only a flash of color from her coat giving her away as everyone panicked over the mysterious song echoing over the mountainside forest.
She watched him warily, bow in hand. Not drawn, but an arrow nocked and ready to be pulled.
“That was a good trick with the song.” he spoke as if gaining a stray dog’s trust. “My name is Nie Mingjue, of the Nie sect. Little sister’s name is?”
“Aureo.” she said after a moment. It sounded foreign. The clothes were odd, her hair cut short and curling around her face, held in place with a wide band. The setting sun painted red into her gold hair.
“A-reo.” he tried. She nodded once. “Come down and have some supper with us.”
She tilted her head, as if listening to something.
“Your sword talks?”
“Saber, Baxia.” she took a moment, listening intently before hopping lightly to the ground.
“That song-”
“Cow song. Echos.” she gestured with her hands, wide and expansive.
“Smart.” he motioned for her to follow, and she trotted to keep up with his long strides. “A-reo, are you a cultivator?”
She made a face, trying to translate the words in her head. “Yes, no? Different than from home.”
“I see.” he supposed more questioning could wait. She was skinny and small and from the way she perked up at the smell of cooking meat, hungry.
--
She’d run into them by accident during a night hunt.
Almost literally, while Xue Yang faced off with a boar yao. She walked into the clearing, blinked at the scene in front of her, distracting him just enough he got a little ripped up by a tusk.
To her credit, Xue Yang would reluctantly give her later on, she did not scream.
She yelped something, getting the yao’s attention, then murmured something to it. A musical string of words that drew its attention away from murdering Xue Yang and towards her. Almost... entranced by her liquid words.
Whelp, wonder about it later, kill it now before it remembered he existed. A quick stab in the heart and it thrashed around as it bled out, screaming something awful as the black blood and resentment poured out. He just barely avoided getting gored again by it in its death throes.
She said something in that musical language, surprise on her face. Probably asking why he killed- no she was pointing at his shoulder, closing the distance in between them and ignoring the twitching corpse as she grabbed his arm. He pushed her off, the gash wasn’t that bad, only to get another scolding series of musical syllables as she took his arm again.
“Bitch, I’ll-”
She put her other hand on his chest, voice getting annoyed, then a painful pop/spark and all of the sudden her words made sense.
“-hold still and let me look at that- oh!”
“The fuck was that?”
“Huh, it works with people. I’ve only tried it on books before.” she took off her pack, quickly rummaging through it before finding what she was looking for. Without a pause, she grabbed him again, pulling down the collar of his robe enough she could get to the gash in his shoulder.
“Hey!”
“Are you going to let me wrap it up, or should I wait until you pass out from blood loss first? I can wait.”
He was getting a bit dizzy, and from the look on her face she really was going to wait until he passed out if she had to.
Damnit, the daozhang was going to love her.
Reluctantly he let her wrap it up, taking her in. yellow hair in a dozen long braids, a wooly blue coat with some sort of geometric design sewn on. The pretty musical language.
“You’re far from home.”
“Mmn. there.” she knotted the ends tightly.
“Chengmei? Chengmei! Where are you?!”
“Over here! I got it, watch your feet it’s a mess!”
“Are you hurt?”
“Nope.”
“Yes he is.” he glared at her and she crossed her arms, returning the glare. “I wrapped it up, but he needs stitches.”
Xiao Xingchen glanced in her direction, but only for a moment. The words sank in and he rushed to fuss on Xue Yang.
“Thank you.” he said, once reassured that Xue Yang was not about to bleed to death right then and there. “I’m Xiao Xinchen, this is Chengmei. May we have sister’s name?”
“My name is Argent.” she gave a quick, almost reflexive curtsy. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”
“Weird name.” he muttered under his breath.
“Chengmei, be polite.” and he gave her one of his bright smiles. She turned a little pink, glancing away.
Aw fuck, they were going to bring her home with them, weren’t they?
“Hey a-qing! We’re back! And we even kidnapped a sister for you!”
“We did not kidnap her, she came with us.” Xiao Xingchen chided, half holding up Xue Yang.
“Well, someone has to stitch him up.” she muttered behind them, slipping off her pack. “Are you A-qing? It’s nice to meet you, I’m Argent.”
“Hi…” she was suddenly shy in front of this strange woman.
“She’s blind. Or so she says.” he was feeling a bit giddy from the blood loss. Definitely dizzy. Laying down was going to feel nice. Snuggling up to the Dazochang even better-
“I am blind you asshole!”
“A-qing, will you get some water?” she calmly said before a fight could start. “Some rags too so I can wash off the blood before I stitch up your brother.”
“He’s not my brother.” she grumbled before tapping off to the well.
“Let’s sit him down and take off his shirt.” she was already kneeling down and rummaging in her bag. “And then a little more light.”
“It’s really not that bad, it’s fine-” he sat down heavily, blinking at the change in position. Both argent and daozhang were looking at him with that ‘really?’ look. “Pushy ass women…”
“I will sit on you to make you stay still if I have to.” she warned as she took off her wooly coat. She sounded like she’d done it before.
“Is Sister Argent a physician?” Xiao Xingchen asked curiously, one hand rubbing the back of Xue Yang’s neck. That felt nice.
“No, I usually work for my uncle as a translator and archivist. But I’m usually the one stitching people up during field work. Thank you A-qing, will you move that light closer? Perfect, thank you.”
“Sounds fancy.”
“Eh.” she rolled up her sleeves and scrubbed her hands in the water. There were tattoos on her arms, plain dark bands under each elbow.
Why did that seem familiar?
The wound had bled through the bandage and she gently washed it out before stitching with a careful hand.
“Exactly how many times have you had to do that?” xue yang muttered, twisting to examine the neat stitches the best he could.
“Too many.” she said, washing her hands again. “Snakes, rocks, falling off cliffs, falling into caverns-”
“I thought you said you were a translator.”
“Usually. He’d been having us look for stuff in god knows where, insisted I come along to translate on site-.” she frowned, staring at her hands as she worked to get the dried blood out from around her nails.
“Who is your uncle? Is he from one of the cultivator sects?” the daozhang asked, sounding curious as he fussed on xue yang’s clothes.
“Cultivator?” she looked from one to the other, even to a-qing with a confused look on her face. “We’re from the city of One Thousand Canals… which no one here has heard of. La Fontaine? La Reine de Sol? Shit.” The curse sounded so strange compared to the formal tone she had been using. “Would I sound completely mad if I say I think some strange magic has happened and I’m very far from home?”
“Sis, a few years ago we had a war where a guy raised the dead as an army. Nothing’s that mad anymore.” he tried to shrug and hid a wince as it pulled on the stitches.
“Please forgive my rudeness, but I need some air.” she tugged on her hair as she stepped out.
“So.” she said without looking up, as Xue yang stepped out onto the porch of the coffin house. “Are you going to rape, rob or murder me?”
Well, it was a fair question. He’d be wondering the same thing in her place.
“Naw, Daozhang and a-qing would get mad.” he settled by her on the damp wood. The air was cool, smelling of rain even as the sky slowly turned grey with dawn.
“Well, it’d fit with this shit week if you did.” she tilted her head towards him, still hugging her knees to her chest. “What do I do now?”
“Eat something. Go to bed.” he shrugged the good shoulder.
“And then?” I don’t know where to go and I shouldn’t take advantage of you all here…”
“It’s fine, the Daozhang has a soft heart for a sob story. And you’re a pushy woman, you’ll figure something out for sure.”
“Thank you.” and it felt weird for someone to say that for saying something so stupid. “I guess the first step is to survive.”
“Always. Come on sis, I hope you can cook better than Daozhang. I don’t know what they taught him on his mystical mountain he came from, but it wasn’t how to season for shit.”
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wayward-pendragon ¡ 6 years ago
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Klance Rec Part 2
Hello and welcome back to another Klance rec! Since the last rec was a success I have decided to make another one. I just wanna say a huge thank you to everyone, you were all super sweet and enthusiastic about the last list :)))). For any newcomers, I will link the first rec list here. Without further adieu, lets begin!
AU
Roommates by manamune 
Summary: (13:24) Lance: Thank you!! Love you, Keith!!!
(13:55) Keith: I’m screenshotting that for the next time you deny it.
One of very first Klance fics!! Klance become roommates and they’re hella cute. Idk what else to say that’s really it. 
Would You Like Fries With That? by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee
Summary: “Hello, welcome to Burger King, can I take your order?” And that’s about when it all comes crashing down on him, and like a tidal wave of terrible, Lance realizes, on an emotional level, how truly awful his day was. For no good reason at all other than here’s a human voice – steeped in apathy perhaps, but not overtly antagonistic – and literally all he wants is a little human comfort… he starts sobbing in the Burger King drive-thru.
Keith is a junior in high school just trying to get through working the midnight shift at Burger King when Lance staggers into his life. The course of true love is a freaking disaster.
I laughed my ass off holy. I can picture this happening so vividly it was such a fun read. Plus, high school klance is fricken cute as hell so squishy and fluffy. 
it had to be you by Redburn
Summary: Keith and Lance are both professors at Garrison University.
“... I remember Lisa saying it was when you ship two people together, romantically, for your own enjoyment. I’m sure…” Shiro trails off when he sees Keith’s eyes start to grow impossibly wide. “Uh, Keith?”“What the fuck?” Keith manages, his heart suddenly beating faster, his face warming up despite himself. “They ship Lance and me romantically?”
YOO. Basically all of Keith and Lance’s kids ship them and its a good time. I love oblivious Keith honestly, oblivious Keith is the best Keith. 
Dorks by GriffinRose
Summary: Inspired by a post on Tumblr!
Lance is the only one listening to the current presentation, and oh boy is it something to listen to. The kid has been rambling on about aliens for ten minutes and he is trying so hard not to laugh. So hard. Turns out the kid didn't even think Lance was paying attention, so when he finds out Lance was he books it. Like, as fast it takes Lance to turn his head, that kid was gone.Keith wants to die. The Hot Guy in his bio class was actually listening to him talk about aliens. That's it. He's done. Kill him now. Poor Shiro is just trying to keep his little brother sane.
AGAIN YO. You know how I said oblivious Keith is the best? Whelp embarrassed Keith is also fuckin great. Honestly now that I’m in Uni I relate to this so hard, its really a fun read. 
Hearts Don’t Break Around Here by klancekorner
Summary: Lance and Keith have been best friends since first grade. Lance’s brain is always on overdrive and Keith’s blunt, realistic ass can never keep up. They both come to realize that sometimes you can learn a lot about loving yourself by loving someone else.
So this is a longer one, its over 130K but don’t let that deter you please. This fic is so good and everything a friends to lovers klance AU should be. I cannot scream about this fic enough its like a young adult romance novel, honestly I’m shitting its so good.  
Better than coffee by Anonymous 
Summary: Lance can’t help but linger around a perpetually grumpy-looking employee who works at the nearby teahouse. Keith, despite all the Yelp reviews, turns out to be surprisingly kind. Lance starts coming every day—although he insists it’s only for the boba.And to complain about the customer service, of course.
Hehehehehe grumpy and soft Keith mixed with Lance being Lance. A shorter fic to last one on this list its really sweet and fluffy please enjoy. 
Shut Up and Dance With Me by wittyy_name
Summary: Lance and his friends have been regulars at the Altea Dance Studio for years. Not just for classes, but to hang out, practice, and spend time with good people who love dancing. Every year, they audition to be one of the few representing Altea at the regional dance competition. Lance always auditions solo, but this year he misses out on auditions and blows his chance to participate. And so does his self-proclaimed rival, Keith. Luckily, Shiro comes up with a brilliant plan: convince Lance and Keith to audition as a duo. With a little convincing, and a lot of effort, these two might just be able to pull it off and go to regionals... or they might crash and burn.
This fic is the real deal holy crap. wittyy_name my god istg one of the best klance writers out there. The relationship built up from enemies to lovers and the sexual tension omg this fic is a masterpiece js. I cannot stress enough read anything klance by wittyy_name and you will be happy. This fic also has art!!!
CANON
All the Way Down by speaks
Summary: “You make it sound like we’re going into battle,” Hunk laughed worriedly on Lance’s other side. “I thought this was like, some kind of carnival.”A chortle bubbled of out Coran’s throat as he slapped his side in amusement. “Some kind of carnival, he says! What an understatement! Allura, I think it’s high time to show the paladins precisely how and where we’re going to be spending the next three days. After you, Princess.”A happy, childlike grin rapidly overtook Allura’s regal professionalism, and then a brilliant chink of light shone into the castle hall as she opened the front doors to the mountain they’d landed on twenty minutes ago.Lance went slack-jawed as his eyes adjusted to the white-blue light of Krossin’s distant neutron star, and he almost stumbled as he and the other paladins followed Allura and Coran out onto the grass to take in the view laid out before them. This place was a utopia.
This is a more recently written klance fic in comparison to some others on this list but oh man. Basically klance being all cute out on a date on an alien planet. The build up omg and fluffffff I was squealing. 
Red is the Coldest Color by EnglishCivilWar
Summary: Keith’s startled look had quickly turned to one of annoyance. “You’re in my way,” he stated. Lance blinked uncomprehendingly. Keith let out a groan. “Lance, MOVE.”(In which Lance is an epic fail at flirting, Keith is an oblivious walnut, and the rest of the team collectively groans and sighs.)
Oblivious Keith is back kids!! 
Love Bug by Cour104
Summary: While exploring an alien planet, Lance get's bit by a strange bug whose venom causes him to fall in love with the first person he sees. Of course that person had to be Keith. I've seen a lot of fics based the Love Bug AU where Keith is bitten by the bug and I thought: What if Lance is bitten?
Literally out of all of the fics I’ve read about klance and the lovebug AU this one wins. It’s almost always Keith that gets bitten but I really loved reading the story from a POV of Lance being bitten it was great.
Make Me Your Home by Reader115
Summary: “Oh my god, Keeeith,” Lance wheezed. “Keith you’re the best drunk space cadet I’ve ever seen.”“Space cadet,” Keith mumbled. He repeated the words again although his eyes had zeroed in on Lance’s hands and Lance offered no resistance when Keith picked one of them up and pulled it possessively towards his lap. He began to gently trace over Lance’s fingers, sending shivers up Lance’s arm and down his spine. “You have looong fingers,” Keith murmured after a few moments.Keith’s face perked up then, as if he’d just had a brilliant idea, and Lance could almost not wait to hear what new obscure thought had entered Keith’s pretty head. He was prepared to laugh, and instead found himself shivering again as Keith leaned far into his personal bubble, lips practically touching Lance’s ear when he spoke next.“I bet you could reach all kinds of things, Lance.”
Set in season 2. These boys crushin hard even if they don’t realize my god. 
Your Love Has Shown Me Proof by freshia
Summary: “This situation is a bit more complicated than we initially realized.”Lance raises an eyebrow, but Pidge is the one to question that. “Define complicated.”Allura takes no more time beating around the bush, “Well, I received a transmission. Keith and Lance--from the future, that is--would like to have their daughter back."or: Lance and Keith deal with a walking spoiler, in the form of a little girl who just wants to get back to her own home.
Klance and a kid oh my god. Watching the teenage versions of klance deal with a child was so pure and their reaction to them being married in the future, priceless. 
time out of mind by aknightley
Summary: Keith and Lance wake up married. In the future. He lays there a moment, processing the faint throbbing in his head, a strange bitter taste like lemons in his mouth. When he opens his eyes, the room spins wildly into a kaleidoscope of colors, so he closes them again, breathing in and out until he feels less like he might throw up. He suddenly registers a warm weight over his waist, and lifts his head to see a brown arm thrown over him. It looks startlingly familiar, but different, bigger than he remembers, more toned. Keith turns all the way around and comes face to face with Lance sleepily blinking his own eyes open.
Another future marriage fic. These awkward little beans omg its really cute. 
Cheeky by rideahorse 
Summary: Keith pinches his eyes shut, slamming the book down again and swiveling to face Lance. “Oh my god,” he groans, standing up and crossing the two feet between them before Lance can get out a word. He grabs Lance’s face between his hands (perhaps a bit rougher than needed, but hey, he’s always wanted to slap Lance’s stupid face) and the last thing he sees is an expression of pure surprise before he leans down and presses his lips against Lance's.It’s a peck, and it lasts a second, and then it’s over. Keith leans back, releasing Lance’s face, and hisses, “There.”
Cute and short fic basically just klance kissing with some feelings involved. The summary really says it all. 
Well, we’ve made it to the end of this rec list. As always, please rec me fics I love getting recommendations. I loved reading all of your comments from the last list so please keep them coming, I love to hear from all of you, so feel free to message or ask a question. Hope you’re all doing well, until next time :)
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