#will i find something to write fanfic about in the future? maybe (and this sounds so fucking self absorbed and making it all about me)

[fexicoded]

just saw your recent post. the grief is hard and i feel the same way. i could just be carrying on with my day but i get reminded that he’s gone and all the anger, sadness, and guilt rushes in.

while i never knew him personally and i am a fan of his, i would like to think that he would want everyone to remember him in his happiest moments. that brings me comfort. it’s easier said than done but i believe we can eventually get to a point where we can celebrate his life and art. we can keep his legacy alive by talking about him in every context. i just hope he and his family find peace in all of this.

(this was also me venting too lol sorry)

I really appreciate you responding to my post, I was not expecting anyone to cause I was venting in the tags but I've always loved having anons in my inbox in general but also helping us all during this awful time.

But yea, I agree with you. I'll be going about my normal fucking day and doing what I need to do to move forward in my life and then have it hit me that this guy that impacted me, even tho I didn't know him, died and I'll never get to see him make an impact or grow from the pains he was dealing with at the moment.

And I do agree, he would be so fucking pissed we were being sappy and sad all the time and a bit embarrassed and yet geeked at the outpouring of love for him. I do feel like I can say I'm happy to have gotten to the point in my grieving that I've accepted what's happened and yet I can't say I do accept it... grief over a celebrity is tough and the parasocial relationship doesn't help either.

TLDR: I'm still here, I still grieve Angus and will for a long time, and idk where I'm gonna go with this account, my writing, etc.

[jymwahuwu]

Absolutely devastated by the flood of hate you're getting, you only deserve the best (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ unfortunately, all I have to offer are these ideas rotting in my head...

JY reading fanfics about himself where the darling looks like you/fics about you where he can insert himself is an idea that has been haunting me. Once he has you as his beloved wife, maybe he'll test the accuracy of those stories.

Do you truly sob pathetically when he places a vibrator on your clit for hours upon end or do you succumb to your desires? Only one way to find out.

I honestly refuse to believe that this man doesn't have a folder titled "research" where it's just porn that he needs to test the accuracy of, regardless of which AU we're talking about. He's just a really dedicated guy.

Thank you Raku, you always show up in time to comfort me (つ´∀｀)つ And that...

CW: yandere, non-con (will happen in the future), imagine you and masturbate

Jing Yuan reads fan fiction in his free time. He knows that there are people from Xianzhou Luofu who like to read and write about them, and there are even authors from other planets/space civilizations. None of them had any idea that their fan fiction was being read, liked, and collected by the General himself. He will read them while he is in the warmth of his bed, holding his cell phone, and looking for readers with personality descriptions like yours.

He loves the way you describe being ravaged or destroyed by him so gently��� and always in all kinds of creative ways. Imagine him on top of you, penetrating you deeply with his cock, or tongue-kissing you passionately. Mating press and oral sex both sound great. Jing Yuan released the painfully hard cock in his crotch and stroked himself, moaning softly. It's a shame it needed to be this way before he got you. One thing these fan fictions describe accurately - he is indeed a virgin and has not been in love for over seven hundred years. He needs to do some research, for you.

And Jing Yuan learned something new - if the general put a vibrator on your clitoris, would you really whimper and squirt pitifully? ("P-please put it down!! I can't-take any more-") The final mess? He actually kind of wanted to put a few more in there. Or will those lactation potions help? He thought there should be side effects. Maybe getting you pregnant would be the perfect way. He learned how to tie you to the bed. Also bought the collars and ropes described in the novels, and even cute kitten bells!!

Jing Yuan has specially categorized bookmarks and study folders, in which you can be any profession!! He just imagined the readers and protagonists to look like you. Although he has been single for seven hundred years (and has yet to form a romantic relationship with you), the General is curious and capable of learning, and is always ready for you.

He knows he can try each of these on you after the wedding and record your reactions. He looks forward to a sweet life.

[googleitlol]

Two questions! Well, one’s more like a prompt/scenario, but I’m still saying it!

Do you have any plans on getting back to your “The Memory of You” fanfic in the future? Because I’m a certified Macaque wimp (right there with Wukong) and I’m dying to know everything that happened between him and Lian!😭

And second:

I just got myself Black Myth Wukong brainrot and I randomly thought of a situation where Dove would wake up from a nightmare about Wukong’s death, and she instinctively places a hand over the Destined One’s heart to hear it beating because of his resemblance and everything. And the Destined One just helps hold her hand to his chest and resting his own hand over hers until she calms down🥲💘💞

1) Omg tbh I didn't realise ppl were still reading that one! I'm focusing on PoM rn so I don't think I'll be getting to it anytime soon unfortunately. I do wanna continue it tho, and rewrite some stuff too! My google doc is so big for TMoY that if you wanted, I could totally answer some asks about it. Since I'm focusing on Dove and Wukong rn, I wouldn't mind sharing some secrets about Lian and Macaque's past (I will yap so much abt them, I love Lian she's my sweetheart).

I also took a break from writing that fic because, uhhhhh… I had only seen part of season 4 when I started writing the backstory for Lian, did some research into chinese mythology and legends I could pull from… then after posting a bunch of chapters, I watched the rest and realised I accidentally made her backstory/creation extremely similar to someone else (if you're caught up on the show, you'll know who I'm talking about). They both involve, uh… similar people?? So I got spooked and decided to wait a bit to see if that character's backstory would be like what I'd written for Lian and… it's starts out very similar 💀

But honestly, I think I'm gonna keep it the same cuz I love Lian, and I love the story I've made for her and Macaque. So if you've got any questions abt them, I'd be happy to answer until I shift my focus back onto TMoY.

2) Oh, and… my god. I love this idea of yours. That dream. Hoo boy, that dream. I love it when people understand the sort of angst I wanna put Dove under. Running to her love, knowing what's about to happen but too far to stop it. Maybe if he saw her, if he knew she was coming, maybe he'd still be there. But no matter how much her throat scratches as she screams, no sound is made. No matter how fast she runs, how far she pushes herself, nothing changes.

The Destined One frowns, he's seen her like this on so many nights. There's something that's plaguing her… he just doesn't know what. She shuts him down at any and all moments he has to inquire about her night-terrors. Still, he's found a subtle way to help in the best way he can. After one night where she reached out for him and he let her hand press against his chest, he noticed how she calmed a bit.

That becomes their nightly ritual. Whenever he notices how she starts to mumble in her sleep, shout and cry, he'll cuddle up next to her and hold her in his arms. He'll keep her head pressed against his chest so she can hear his heart– that always calms her down. As long as she has something, her hand or even an ear pressed to his heart, she'll calm down. Maybe the first few nights he started doing this, she'd cuddle up to him a bit. He'd be awkward about it at first, but eventually grow used to it. After a while, he'd find that he actually really enjoys spending those nights with Dove in his arms.

[the-daiz]

hiii i loved your flash falling in love fanfic sm it was so cute😭😭

your other idea of having a scenario of him falling for a reader that's strong also seemed very interesting. could you maybe write that but with like.. a short reader? like a reader whose power doesn't match their size at all? (hero or not)

(i may be projecting on the height part😔)

if not, that's ok. i just rlly like your fanfics/hcs, and i enjoy reading them a lot!! <3

Flashy flash, falling inlove? #2

Genre; fluff, hcs

Pairing; Flashy flash x reader

Short! Reader

side note; Isn’t projecting the whole point of x reader fics? 🤔🤔 I’m so glad you enjoy my fics ml! I appreciate your support sm sm 💋

not proofread (sorry)

Flashy flash doesn’t really focus on much.

well, what I mean is: his focus rarely strays to anything but himself and his duties, which sounds slightly narcissistic but he’s simply goal-oriented (and self-loving).

he merely wants to eradicate all evil and get stronger.

Truly, it’s surprising when you catch his keen interest.

You were strong. Possibly as powerful as him, that was the first thing that caught his attention.

The first time he caught you using the full extent of your power, he wasn’t sure if he was jealous or completely riddled with admiration.

but first he needed to test out how truly strong you were, and what better way to do that then accompany you on one of your hero missions, respectfully inspecting you as you slay the fiends bringing terror to the innocent.

very arrogantly asking you to a duel, apparently.

He’s very… stuck up about it. Which obviously doesn’t sit right with you, and your first impression of him isn’t the best.

He can’t help but look down on you, literally and figuratively, because of your miniature size.

However, when you finally have your duel, whether you win or lose or you end up in a draw, he does quickly learn he shouldn’t underestimate you.

After that interaction, he starts watching you more closely, maybe whenever you’re in the same parameter, or even going out of his way to find out what your schedule is and observing you from afar .He’s very subtle about it.

That was when he started experiencing something else other than respectful curiosity…

It’s how easily you navigate your strength and weaknesses, the immense sense of confidence that radiated from you and the power in your every move, it just kept pulling him deeper every time he witnessed it.

He began to talk to you more often.

He’d suddenly appear whenever you’re fighting any monsters and help you defeat them, then swiftly stir the conversation so he’s talking about anything that may be of interest to you, just so he can stretch out this conversation for as long as possible.

His tone is neutral and even a little cold, which fits the stoic expression on his face, so you can’t tell if he has any feelings for you.

Other people can though.

His quite oblivious to his own emotions. He just thinks you’re just another strong hero he can benefit from by being close to. Despite the fact he stares at you longer than he’s stared at anything else, and the fact he often times thinks about you and what you’d do, say or think in certain situations, or even the fact you give him a sense of inspiration he didn’t know he longed for.

ironically, the way it really dawns on him that he likes you, is when he catches himself adjusting how he looks on the reflection of a window before going up to talk to you.

Now that he thinks about it, he’s been taking even more care of how he presents himself ever sense he started hanging around you.

He starts growing more distant after really evaluating himself.

he doesn’t want these feelings to become a distraction for him in the future. He’s still a hero with a duty and a status to maintain.

It doesn’t last very long however, because in that small period of time he realized how much you meant to him.

it irritated him tbh, and he started cursing and insulting you in his head.

But all the negative thoughts dissipated as soon as he glanced at your face. The face that never left his thoughts or dreams.

His attraction to you manifests in subtle ways— He starts to stand closer to you. He compliments you a bit more but often times it’s (a little) back-handed. Whenever he’s in the hero association building maybe for a meeting or such, and he catches wind that you’re there too, he’s quick to ignore everyone else to look for you.

He’s still stuck-up, but he’s now a more gentle, patient, considerate AND stuck-up version of himself (to you at least)

He also invites you to spar or train together every now and then, and he gets so. Incredibly. Excited. If you make time for him. ESPECIALLY IF YOU’RE THE ONE INVITING HIM TO TRAIN/SPAR.

He pretends like it’s whatever, and he doesn’t care that much. But he can’t stop thinking about it, like he just keeps looking at the time and calculating how many hours, minutes, seconds are left before he meets up with you.

I can see him confessing to you in a ver stupid way, straightforward and stupid. Something that would keep him up at night because it was so embarrassing and out of the blue.

After one of your sparring sessions, maybe you two are just talking and catching your breathes. And maybe he says something… er, stupid like…

”you know, a lot of people are impressed by me. Obviously.” *pauses awkwardly* “I, uh… i guess I’m kind of impressed by you too. Don’t let it get to your head though, when you can’t even reach my head.” -flashy flash, with a snarky smirk.

”your back-handed compliments are getting a bit old, flash. I can’t really tell if you actually mean them or want to get a rise out of me.” -you

Shit.

He starts to panic internally.

and his heart starts racing.

and he gulps.

“No- I- Sorry- I’m complimenting you! You’re very impressive! I’m impressed!” He blurts out loudly, his face frowning but flushed with red. You blink, surprised by the sudden switch in his demeanor.

”oh, it’s fine. I wasn’t being that serious-“ -you

“I don’t think I can do this anymore, the fact is, I’m inlove with you.” -flashy flash

”Wha-”

The confession is so bizarre, you burst out laughing.

he’s very flustered when you do, and is a little hurt, thinking you may be making fun of him.

How he is in a relationship with you…

In public, he doesn’t really do much. Just makes an effort to be around you when he can, and tells you to stay safe whenever both of you have to part ways.

but behind closed doors, he’s like a new person.

He’s soft and gentle with you, holding you, caressing you, kissing you. Everything.

did I mention that he’s very good with words? He’s very good with words. He tries to charm you constantly, reiterating his devotion to you with a new set of vocabulary each time.

He teases you as much as he sweet talks you though. Especially when it comes to your height.

He doesn’t mind your height difference, but he does find it kind of adorable. The way you crane your neck to look up at him, of how you can slip through small spaces thanks to your size, and how it sometimes helps you with being flexible in battle. But most of all, he likes when you have to stand on your toes and pull him by his collar to kiss him.

if you steal his clothes, he’ll complain and act annoyed, but he adores seeing you wear them. They’re so big on, but that’s what makes it so nice, it’s like a part of him is able to protect you. (In a strange/unique way)

He’ll gift you one of his favorite shirts/hoodies and drench it in his cologne. And will say something like “You steal it so much you might as well just have it. My god, you’re such a hassle.”

He likes giving you pet names like, “gorgeous” or fucking “sweetheart” or maybe even “sweetness”, or the typical “love”, “darling”. He’s very diverse.

When he’s feeling cocky he’ll call you “tiny” or “short stuff” (corny ass)

Just loves spending time with you and generally watching you do stuff.

sitting in your presence is simply intoxicating to him, it provides him with such tranquility he’s never known in his life.

You’ll catch him warmly smiling at you a lot.

He does worry about you sometimes if you’re assigned a dangerous mission, he’s confident in your abilities but that doesn’t mean he isn’t afraid you might get hurt. He’ll send you a short text like ‘hey, you alright? Call me when you’re done’ and he’ll check his phone constantly throughout the day.

when you finally text/call him, he’ll breath a sigh of relief then pretend he wasn’t worried in the slightest.

[sophierequests]

Could I please request a Toyla x reader..? (Bless you for writing for everyone I can’t find any for him 😭) they’re crushing on each other and them having to share a bed 🥺

you are foolish to want

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Request

Pairing: Tolya Yul-Bataar x gn!Reader

A/N: After reading this you might ask me: Sophie, will you ever write anything else than Hurt/Comfort when you get requests that aren't in any explicit genre? The answer to that question is: no <3 Also, the second time of using horses in a Tolya fanfic?? What has overcome me?? Thank you for the request! I hope you'll like this, even though the one bed trope isn't the main focus of this story </3

Summary: Tolya and the reader are on their way to the Lazlayon until unforeseen circumstances put a slight dent in their plans.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff (if you squint)

Word Count: 5.8K (oh god)

Warnings: Mention of almost dying, broken ribs and hurt feelings

The silence between you became louder the longer you indulged in it. It wasn’t really silence, so to say. It was more the state of not speaking. The forest surrounding you was anything but silent. Between the creaking of old rotting larch trees swaying in the wind and the padding of hooves against the more or less solid ground, nothing ever really felt quiet. 

He couldn’t be sure how much longer the path ahead of you could possibly still drag on; all he knew was that he likely wouldn’t be able to stay awake for the entirety of it. The tension of riding next to you alone would have usually been enough to keep him from falling asleep. Hell, the thought of you alone did the job well enough already. Yet something about this time felt different. 

It was just the two of you. No Tamar. No Nikolai. No Zoya. No one else to worry or think about. Just the two of you, wordlessly riding next to each other. 

And while his brain screamed at him to use that factor in his favour, to finally make some sort of move, his body recoiled at the impulse of opening his mouth and articulating his feelings. Whenever he even attempted to do so, an obstruction seemed to form inside his larynx, blocking the feeble sounds that might’ve crossed the breach of his vocal folds. Maybe it was his heart leaping out of his chest and ending up in the enclosure of his throat, desperate to be spat out and stowed away inside a neat little box that he could disregard as long as he pleased. Maybe it was bile at the thought of having to come clean about the months and months of yearning he had been subjected to since meeting you. Maybe both of these options rang true; he couldn’t be sure. The sole thing he was painfully sure of was that it had to be closely related to you. 

Everything was somehow related to you. You had always been everywhere and nowhere; everything and nothing at the same time. At least to him, he hoped. You occupied his mind, his space, and his time whenever he should be focused on anything else. When he wanted, no, needed to focus on anything else. You were everywhere just as much as you were nowhere. Nowhere he could reach. Touch. Hold. You had always been more of an idealistic daydream, rather than something concrete. And just like most dreams, you would be foolish to pursue.

“Do you think we’ll reach the Lazlayon before the night sets in?” Your voice broke through the air like a gunshot, forcing his gaze away from the impenetrable barrier of trees next to him. You stared at him expectantly, waiting until he could will himself to produce a coherent sentence.

He let out a huffed breath, absent-mindedly fiddling with the reins in his hands as if they were a set of tarot cards that would permit him to look into the future. “If we keep up this pace, we’ll likely get there right before sundown.”

“Oh, lovely. Just in time for Count Kirigin to welcome us. I’m sure he’s already buzzing with excitement,” you chuckled dryly, giving your companion a distinctive eye roll to accentuate your annoyance. 

Tolya rolled his shoulders, the mention of the count’s name sending a wave of unease through him. He didn’t necessarily hold any tangible grudges against him, he didn’t know him well enough to form any sort of well-shaped opinion of him to begin with, but what he knew was that the man was an absolute rake. If the countless times of resolute flirting with anyone that didn’t leave his presence on the count of three wasn’t enough to support this hypothesis, Nikolai’s long-winded tales of his drinking and lavished parties sure filled the gaps. Count Kirigin as a whole simply wasn’t a coeval he wanted to be around. Not when he was busy enough with keeping his emotions in check while you were close to him. 

“There’s still hope that he chose to go to bed instead of waiting by the door for us to arrive. I doubt that he’s all too invested in our presence. After all, Zoya isn’t accompanying us, so he won’t have much to ogle at,” the Heartrender objected slyly, using the scarce situation of being alone with you to voice his obvious disdain for the man in question.

“We can only hope.” You clasped your hands together, holding them in front of your chest as if you were in prayer. “At least we’ll share the same fate if it comes down to him having genuinely waited on us.” 

He nodded in agreement. It was a comforting thought to know that he was there with you. The fact that you were meant to take on the journey to the Lazlayon on your own at first disconcerted him greatly. Not that he wouldn’t have trusted you to come back in one piece, however, having you be out of his sight for so long without a possibility of contacting you made him uncomfortably aware of the actual extent of his feelings.

Another wave of silence settled around you. It was more comfortable this time. Especially since it didn’t take too long for you to speak up again. “I’m glad Nikolai decided to have you come along.”

His smile falters for just a split second, the wave of emotion your simple statement had created stripping him of the last bit of feigned confidence he had. Perhaps his years of studying and breaking down ancient poetry had gotten the best of him. Convinced him that there was more to the comment than merely you being glad that someone else had to suffer through the hours on hours of travel. But that’s what you would have said, right? You would have said ‘someone’ instead of explicitly mentioning him. During times like these, he genuinely missed Zoya’s bluntness to bring him back down to earth.

“Oh, uhm, it’s good to know that you don’t see my presence as patronising,” he stammers, his voice hitching and cracking as if he was a puberty-stricken young boy again.

You tilted your head and looked at him with narrowed but gentle eyes. The same eyes that always seemed to magically find his own whenever he had stared at you for a bit too long. “Your presence could never be patronising to me. I like being around you.”

In an ideal world, he would have told you that the feeling was mutual. The sentence would have rolled off his tongue equally as casually as it had off yours, and you both could have continued your travels with the knowledge that you appreciated each other’s company. This was not an ideal world though. In fact, he didn’t even give you a verbal response. Instead, he hastily turned his head away from you, futilely trying to cover the gleaming blush that had spread across his cheeks in a matter of seconds.

Once again, the steady whirring and rustling replaced your short-lived stab at a conversation. It took another hour for the unkempt thicket to gradually turn into a widespread field, stretching out in front of you until it was obscured by the dense artificial fog that hid the watercraft testing grounds of the Gilded Bog. It would have been a stunning view if you hadn’t been aware of the massive amount of work that lay behind it.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips when Count Kirigin’s estate came into view. Your whole body ached after riding for hours on end without a break, making you long for a warm bed and a good night’s sleep. It didn’t take long for Mother Fortuna to knock that idea out of your head though.

Just as you had intended to throw some sort of sarcastic comment in your friend’s direction, a sudden sound of a rifle being fired cut through the forest behind you. After that, everything continued to go downhill horribly fast. 

You barely managed to calm down your horse, yanking the reins to the side to let it spur out its fright by trotting in a circle. Tolya, on the other hand, was less lucky. He hadn’t been able to react quick enough, his horse rearing on its hind legs before he was in the right mindset to properly hold onto the straps of his saddle. He was thrown off its back quite roughly, his back hitting the hard ground with a bone-chilling thud.

“Tolya!” you called, dismounting your horse without thinking about the looming threat of someone directing their gunshots at you. It was as if you were passing through a tunnel, eyes only focused on what was in front of you.

A litany of his name spilt out of your mouth as you knelt down next to him; you repeated it so many times that it didn’t even feel like a real word anymore. But no amount of repetition could bring him to regain consciousness. He remained laying on the ground, perfectly still and with no reaction to anything you did. Years and years of basic medical training flickered through your mind, hopelessly trying to give you an impulse that might be able to save his life. Your hands promptly moved to the pronounced column of his throat, a motion that would have been intimate if you weren’t filled with panic. The skin underneath your fingers was warm - and unexpectedly soft - as you dug for any form of heartbeat. When you finally localised a faint but rhythmic thudding, you sucked in a deep breath, momentarily considering changing your stance on the Saints if they had been the ones to grant you this minuscule act of reassurance.

“Tolya,” you tried again, hands cradling the sides of his face as you shifted him onto your lap. His eyelids fluttered open briefly, immediately seeking out contact with yours. It took another moment for him to recognise what position he was currently in. Your hands on his face and his head on your lap felt almost too good of a situation to be anything but a dream. 

He wanted to say something, anything for that matter, but a piercing pain in his chest caused him to let out a stifled groan. It hurt to move. It hurt to speak. It hurt to breathe. His whole body felt like it had been pulled apart and reassembled without a manual, and you couldn’t do anything to ease his discomfort.

“Hey.” You let your thumbs smooth over the ridges of his cheekbones, your feather-light touch creating an embarrassingly visible trail of goosebumps all over his arms. Everything you did was too soft. Too delicate. Too wholly overwhelming. “I know it hurts. Just stay here for a while and-”

“Saints!” A shrill voice made your head shoot up, the memory of the gunshot striking you like a brick. When a familiar figure scrambled out of the woods, an extravagant hunting rifle strung over his back and a mortified look on his face, you began to piece together what was going on. “I’m terribly sorry! I- We were just coming back from our hunting trip and we didn’t- Oh, no.” The count ran a shaky hand through his neatly slicked-back hair, causing a few stiff strands to fall onto his forehead.

Something inside you wanted to be mad at him. It was his fault after all. If he had been more careful and a little less trigger-happy none of this would have happened. However, Tolya’s weight still very much present on your legs substituted your anger with worry. “Kirigin, I’ll need some help getting him to the Lazlayon. He needs to be looked at by someone more…medically-inclined than me.”

Emil nodded his head reverently, calling over a few of the other men that had joined him in his hunting party. With their help, you heaved him back to his feet. His nails dug into your shoulder as you helped him walk to your horse; neither of you trusted his horse enough to not throw him off again. It was quite the struggle, but after a lot of cursing and griping coming from the normally very composed Heartrender, you reached the opulent mansion just before the sun had vanished behind the mountain range completely.

Upon entering, the count immediately called for a medik, showing the two of you to his drawing room while he flittered through the foyer in a frenzy. Tolya let himself fall onto one of the plush divans with a groan. His hand flew to his side as soon as his back met the fabric underneath him, flinching as he seemed to have pressed down too hard. It was a strange picture to see him look this helpless. He appeared small and vulnerable, almost as if a bare touch could cause him to break and crumble.

“Don’t move,” you requested gently, one of your hands reaching out to take hold of his. He was aware that this gesture was merely meant to give him a piece of reassurance; you wanted to give him something to hold on to, something to get his mind off of the erupting pain in his chest. Still, a nimble twinge of hope sent a burning wave of longing through his body. “I think you may have broken a rib. After your fall earlier that would be one of the lesser evils,” you assessed, letting the fingers of your free hand brush over the clothed expanse of his chest. “We should probably pass a message to Nikolai. You can’t be expected to take on the ride back anytime soon. But all of that can wait until tomorrow.”

The medik arrived just as you closed your mouth, forbidding Tolya from saying anything in response to your short-lived ramblings. He was a bit miffed by the fact that the person treating him was a simple medik instead of an actual Healer that could have fixed him up in the blink of an eye. However, a faint memory of Kuwei accidentally setting a whole section of the laboratory on fire told him that their presence was a bit more required downstairs. 

He was ripped from his thoughts when the medik pushed down on his ribcage with unexpected force. A jolt of pain flashed through him again, and embarrassingly enough, that only caused his grip on your hand to tighten. You didn’t show any sign of discomfort as he did so, entirely concentrated on providing the tiniest bit of comfort you could offer him.

“Fractured rib,” the woman beside you muttered, her brows furrowed as she looked at his exposed chest stomach. “This will take a few weeks to heal on its own. We can send for a Healer as soon as one’s available, but that will probably take just as long. The new project is keeping everyone busy, I’m afraid.”

“I will send a letter to the King,” the Count interjected, rubbing his palms together in an attempt to cope with his nervousness. “The Healers at the Grand Palace are often more willing to make the trip than the ones we have on our hands here. I’m certain he would do everything in his power to ensure that one of his most trusted…guards is back in his service as soon as possible.”

“I suppose that would be for the better.” The medik took out a few differently coloured vials from the pouch on her hip, handing them to you as if the person needing them wasn’t also in the room with you. “These are painkillers. Make sure he takes one of these twice a day.” You nodded along slowly, letting go of Tolya’s hand to not drop any of the flimsy flasks. “It would be best if someone keeps an eye on him for now. Especially after taking the medicine. In case the pain gets worse, you know where to find me.” She directed her gaze at Emil who merely dismissed her with a grateful wave of his hand.

“Thank you for…taking the initiative.” You gave him a brief smile, sitting on the armrest of the sofa where Tolya was still laying. Slowly but surely, the heaviness of the day began seeping through your bones.

“But of course! That’s the least I could do after causing such a mishap.” He pursed his lips but opted to force them into a straight line while he pondered his next words. “I shall send for a servant to mind you during the night if that’s alright with you. Someone should probably be there to attend to you, just in case something happens.” 

Tolya looked up at him, evidently not too fond of his suggestion. The idea of having some stranger even do as much as stay in the same room as he slept didn’t sit right with him at all. “I…appreciate your kindness, Count Kirigin. However, I would prefer it if you refrained from doing anything like that. I’m certain it will be fine if I’m left unsupervised for the night.”

“The count has a point,” you reasoned, a distinct expression of worry present on your face. “You’re hurt; don’t be so blasé about it. It would genuinely be better if someone is there for you. At least for tonight.”

“Maybe you could stay with him for the night if it’s the aspect of familiarity he’s concerned with?” Emil offered, his eyes darting between the two of you nervously. If his upper body had allowed it, Tolya would have shot upright in his seat after hearing that. As much as he hated the notion of having someone else practically babysit him while he was asleep, anyone else would be a better option than you. He wouldn’t survive spending a night under these circumstances.

His suggestion caught you off guard with what felt like brute force. He was a good friend; one of your closest actually. Yet you had never even seen the inside of his bedroom. Spending the night in the same room, no matter under what circumstances, seemed like a terrible way to improve that friendship.

“I… Tolya? Your call.” You shifted all the responsibility of decision-making onto the Heartrender, giving him an apologetic look while he struggled to find the right words.

He mentally considered all the implications this action might entail. What if he snored? What if he talked in his sleep? What if the medicine made him do or say things he might regret? What if nothing out of the ordinary happens and he was just diving into the worst-case scenarios? “If I have to choose, I’d prefer your presence,” he mumbled, instantly clamping his eyes shut in order to avoid looking at your face while you let his words sink in. 

“It’s decided then,” you chirped, slumping off your seat to carefully place the ampoules in your bag. You sounded pretty much unbothered by the prospect of sharing a room for the night. Weren’t you even a little bit uncomfortable with that?  He should be glad that you were taking this situation so well, however, your unexpected nonchalance concerning the topic made every last speck of hope that you could possibly like him back dwindle down to nothing.

“Very well!” Kirigin clasped his hands together with a resounding clap, the jovial nature returning to his face in an instant. “Now, if you’d be so inclined - and able -, please follow me upstairs to the guest bedrooms.”

The guest bedrooms of the count’s estate reminded you of the countless ornate rooms you had seen at the Grand Palace; broad wide rooms with high ceilings and long windows that made them appear more like a makeshift dining hall than an actual bedchamber. Needless to say, the Lazlayon was a bit more bucolic than what you were used to seeing in the capital, but the white walls and the rococo king-size bed definitely opposed every notion of humility one might expect if there was no prior knowledge of Kirigin’s spendthrift way of living.

Neither of you really had enough willpower to change into your nightclothes, so you merely rid yourself of the thick jackets and clunky boots, which you mindlessly tossed on top of your bags. The bedding would be changed in the morning anyway.

It was a terribly awkward scene, the tension practically electrifying the air around you. Tolya sat on the bed, his back perched on the carved headboard while he watched you scurry around the room like a rabbit in front of a rifle. You also seemed to have realised what the offer of staying in the same room for the night might imply; your previous casualness being gone completely.

“Here,” you said, handing him one of the vials the medik had given you earlier. He took the medicine from your hands, eying it with a suspicious expression. In comparison to his hand, the tiny bottle looked like a prop right out of a doll house. The image of comparing your hand to his popped into your mind, but you hastily shooed it away, thinking about how inappropriate that thought was. “Drink. I’ll get you some water to help with the taste in case you need it.” 

Quickly, he downed the viscous medicine, cringing at the sickly-sweet flavour that spread inside his mouth as he swallowed. As soon as the liquid went down his throat, he had to stifle a cough, the taste only getting worse the longer he occupied his mind with it.

You plopped down on the empty spot next to him, cautious to not spill any of the water that you held out for him. When he reached out to take the glass, your hands touched his for a split second, your fingertips barely brushing over his. Still, that simple gesture was enough to make his head spin. Saints, he hated that you had that effect on him.

“Thank you,” he breathed out, not quite knowing what exactly he thanked you for. Thank you for being there for me when I fell off that damned horse? Thank you for holding my hand earlier? Thank you for staying with me tonight? Thank you for getting me that glass of water? He could probably think about at least a hundred things to thank you for off the top of his head.

“How are you feeling?” Your voice sounded just as sweet as the medicine tasted, he thought. He just liked listening to your voice a whole lot better. Were the painkillers already kicking in?

“Better. Sore, but better. I’m dreading thinking about what Nikolai will say once he gets wind of this.” He let his head slump against the wall behind him, his eyes glancing at you furtively as you scanned his body for any sort of unease or pain he might still feel.

“Forget Nikolai. He can survive without you for a bit longer. And Tamar is still there to save his ass when it comes down to it.” You gave him a quick smile, taking his hand to give it a reassuring squeeze before leaving his side again. “The only thing that matters now is that you’re getting better. No matter whether that happens naturally or with the help of a Healer."

“I’d prefer it happening through the help of a Healer,” he muttered under his breath, scowling at the idea of having to spend another six weeks alone in the confines of a bed without being able to follow his usual duties.

“Well, an actual break would do you some good every once in a while. After everything that Nikolai put you through during the last few years, you should be eligible to take off at least a few months without him being allowed to say anything against it.”

“So eager to get rid of me now?”

A sharp snort escaped your mouth as you looked at him, the feigned pout on his lips making him look like a kicked puppy. Sometimes you had the suspicion that Nikolai’s inherent obnoxiousness was rubbing off on him.

“Believe it or not, I still like being around you. Even though you now gave me the added stress factor of having to keep a close eye on you when we’re around horses.” You walked over to one of the cushioned armchairs that decorated the corner of the room, leaning against it without actually sitting in it. “And If I really would be so eager to get rid of you I wouldn’t have agreed to play your nursemaid for the night. Especially not if I had known that I’d have to sleep in one of these forsaken chairs. Kirigin could have at least given us a double room.”

Tolya’s previously playful expression dropped. He had been so hung up on the fact that you’d be with him for the entire night that he had completely neglected to think about the logistics of his request. Had he known that you’d end up sleeping in a chair rather than a bed, he would have answered differently. 

An unwelcome thought clawed its way into his mind; he wanted to strangle it before it could properly manifest. Had he been Nikolai or Tamar he would have immediately sprung into action, offering you his bed, and probably also his heart while he was at it. But he wasn’t like either of them. He wasn’t brash, or romantic, or even socially intelligent. These attributes would be foreign on him, like a coat that was just a bit too big to fit correctly - contorting his actual silhouette to make him look like something he wasn’t.

“Are you okay?” you asked, a worried undertone present as you spoke. He quickly closed his mouth, straightening out his features to appear more collected than he felt before fixing his gaze on you again. You didn’t only sound worried, you also looked the part; eyebrows tightly knitted together while a distinct flash of concern gloomed in your eyes. “Are you still in pain? Should I get-”

“No, it’s- I’m fine, Y/N. I was just thinking…” 

“Care to share with the class?”

Even though everything inside him rebelled against opening his mouth and speaking his mind, his heart moved quicker than his mind could process. “Sleeping in an armchair can’t be comfortable. We could share the bed,” he trailed off, watching as you gawked at him like a fish on land. “If you want to, that is.” He felt the need to add that, even if it was only enough to calm his raging nerves.

“Tolya, you’re hurt. You need the rest more than I do. I can’t possibly do that in good conscience.” The room was filled to the brim with the nervousness exuding off of the two of you. It was almost sad to watch you two stumble over your own words, acting as if you were two little schoolchildren that both had a crush on the other.

Seemingly taking your refusal as a challenge, he awkwardly shuffled towards the edge of the bed, leaving the other side very clearly unoccupied. “Would that be enough space for you?” Your eyes darted from the comfortable-looking bed to the stiff armchair you had originally intended to sleep in. Much to your dismay, the bed did look more inviting than the chair could ever be.

“I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” was everything you could muster up to talk yourself out of it. A futile attempt at not giving in to the want clouding your coherent thoughts ever since being in the same room as Tolya.

“You wouldn’t.” You couldn’t. “Trust me, I don’t mind. I couldn’t let you sleep in a bloody chair with a good conscience either.” As if to underline his statement, he patted the empty space next to him.

With an exasperated sigh, you shook off the roots that had metaphorically formed around your ankles and moved to the offered side of the bed. You felt terribly awkward as you slid into bed right next to him. You two had never been this close. Not in this context.

“Thank you,” you whispered, laying flat on your back with your hands folded over your stomach. He mirrored your movement soon after, albeit a bit slower.

He wanted to say something - anything - to relieve some of the tension buzzing between you. But everything he could have said wouldn’t have improved the situation in the slightest. Just like a few hours ago in the woods, the silence was anything but silent.

“You really scared me earlier, do you know that?” you mumbled, breaking through the uncomfortable silence. Again, he thought. “This could have ended with way worse consequences than a fractured rib.”

“I know.” The words were heavy on his tongue, suffocating him. Up until the possibility that worse things could have happened had sounded like an impossible what-if situation to him. But judging by the honest fear in your voice, he really could have suffered a fate way worse than being forced to rest for an uncertain amount of time. The only feeling he could recall after his fall was the dizziness of laying on top of your lap and the intoxicating touch of your hands on his cheeks. He didn’t even think that he genuinely registered the pain in his chest until he felt the impulse to move. “Thankfully, we didn’t have to find out exactly how badly this could have ended.”

“Good. I honestly wouldn’t have known what to do if you hadn’t woken up. What I would do without you.” The last sentence was so unexpected that it almost knocked the air out of his lungs. You had your way of catching him off-guard with your words that was so brutal, but equally as stunning.

“You won’t have to that out either. Not if I can help it.” He wanted to tell you. He wanted to tell you so badly that breathing normally became more and more difficult. But he couldn’t. Not right now. And maybe not ever.

Silence fell over you again. It was such a stark contrast to the chaos raging inside his head that he barely noticed when you turned to lay on your side, facing him. He forced his eyes to close in hopes of at least getting a few full hours of sleep before he was pushed back into a world where it wasn’t normal for you to sleep next to him.

“Tolya?” you whispered, resisting the urge to nudge him. 

“Mhm?” he murmured, eyes still clamped shut.

He heard you shuffling next to him, probably to put a bit of distance between you and him. “I have to tell you something.” You shuffled again, the mattress giving in ever so slightly when you did. You were sitting up now. “This might be a terrible time to do so, but I have to get it off my chest.” That caught his attention enough to look at you again. You sounded so serious.

“Uhm, sure, go for it.” To say that he was concerned would have been an understatement. His whole body tensed, much to the dismay of his fractured ribcage.

“I don’t recall the last time when I was genuinely so afraid of someone I care about not being alright, but what I felt when you didn’t wake up at first was way worse than just being scared. I'm not sure how to tell you this, and I’ve been putting this off for quite some time now. But I don’t just care about you like how I care about the others. I think I'm in love with you." The last words tumbled from your lips in a hurry, so quickly that he almost didn’t comprehend what you were saying. He could have sworn that this was a fever dream. Maybe the medicine had kicked in way stronger than he expected it to. Maybe he was genuinely going mad. Whatever it was, it didn’t feel real.

You realised how badly timed this confession was as soon as you saw the completely befuddled expression that was plastered all over his face. Suddenly, sleeping on the armchair looked way more appealing than the shared bed. You felt like you were trapped in a mass of writhing quicksand, slowly but surely devouring you until there was nothing left to take. This was way more embarrassing than you had imagined.

“I, uhm, this was a mistake.” You felt your cheeks heat up, burning you until you couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to get out of this bed. Preferably also this room. “It would be best if I leave, I’m so sorry. I’ll go downstairs to call fo-” 

Tolya seized your wrist just as you wanted to throw the covers off of you. The rash movement caused him to wince slightly, but he didn’t let go of you. A thousand questions forced their way into his mind, and he could answer none of them. 

“Wait.” He didn’t know what else to say. But he knew that you needed to stay. “Are…are you being sincere?”

“What? Of course? Do you genuinely think I would make a joke out of something like that? Especially in our…current situation?” you questioned, absolutely bewildered that he thought you were joking around.

At this point, his face was beet red. He couldn’t tell where his embarrassment came from. Whether it was the fact that he had been tiptoeing around his feelings for months by now while you felt the same or the fact that he had the genuine audacity to ask you if you were kidding.

“Tolya, I can understand that this makes you uncom-”

“No, no, don’t!” His grip on your wrist tightened as you tried to wriggle yourself out of his grasp. That was his cue to say something. Anything if it made you stay.

“What do you mean?”

“I love you too,” he blurted, maybe a bit too quickly. But the fear of having to watch you leave made his heart act before his brain could.

“You do?”

“Do you genuinely think I would make a joke out of something like that?” He gave you a sheepish smile, his eyes gleaming with adoration. Saints, he really was in love. “I never said anything because I didn’t think you’d feel the same.”

He had intended to let go of your hand, giving you a moment to process what he had just said. You didn’t let him pull away though. Instead, you took his hand in your own, tightly squeezing it before allowing your lips to curl up into a wide smile.

“Sounds like we’re both idiots then.”

“At least we’re idiots in love.”

“But idiots nonetheless," you laughed, your heart thudding even louder when you heard Tolya join you.

Taglist:

Grishaverse fics in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light @treasureofmy-heart

Tolya Yul-Bataar: @juneberrie @horny4knives

[melonminnie]

Hello! I'm back, hehehe well I came to ask you something, would you be willing to write for action manhwas? Sorry is that I am addicted to them, blame daddy sung jinwoo.

Leaving the topic, can I have more yandere platonic but this time from Who made me a princess? I have a scenario, maybe the reader was a girl fed up with her life, so you know, she killed herself and ended up opening her eyes in this manhwa and worst of all, she is a rejected daughter of claude.

So in order to survive, she hides from him, contrary to what Atty would do, she decides she doesn't want his attention. She already suffered a lot in her other life from being ignored and crushed by others, as if her feelings were nothing more than garbage and dog poop. That's why this time he doesn't even try, like have you seen the female leads in almost every manhwa quwrer to live and shit? Well, our dear reader DOES NOT WANT TO LIVE, she is tired and fed up with everything.

But imagine if, by chance, an old diary is found in an abandoned library in the ruby palace (forgot to say, but this is 4 years before the initial story, so my reader is 7 at the time) going back to the diary, she He finds it and it turns out that it is magical. So somehow he travels to the past through this book and without thinking he wanders through the old palace finding Claude crying as a child. Because the reader doesn't give a damn about her life, she begins to establish a friendship because if she was already here, why waste this opportunity? he also hates the adult claude ironically he is his dad.

All that shit from his childhood happens and for 4 years the reader goes back and forth from the past to the future, we reach the point where the adult claude remembers that girl a lot and becomes obsessed with finding her since she was his emotional support. Sorry for all that stuff, now imagine that the plot begins and our reader knows it, that's why she decides to run away taking some money (for some reason she became friends with Felix and he gave her 500 gold coins so she can run away) Like reader hates attention, leaves the palace and lives in a cabin, now we move on to claude still having those dreams with that little girl who was becoming a woman, this was always platonic but he is obsessed with finding her, he promised as a child to return all his care and comfort.

She's the only one who knows him best, but we know the reader doesn't care about anyone and just wants to die in a quiet place.

Annnd, you can develop this better, in the end I would like claude to find out that his daughter has always been his best friend in some way and end up locking her up to prevent her from leaving again. I do not know

And I leave you a gift again, hehehe I edited it for a fanfic that I will never finish or publish

(PS: I traced the lineart of the official art, but the coloring is mine and it is based on that scene, this is already old so it has errors)

YAN! CLAUDE X DAUGHTER! READER (platonic)

-Hihi I’m glad you’re back!! Unfortunately I doubt I’ll be writing for adventure manhwa at the moment sense I only read romance at the moment but maybe in the future! Reader has the same appearance as athy, fyi your art always amazes me!! Thank you for requesting mwah 🫶🫶

WARNING EXTREME WARNING CONTAINS SUICIDE DO NOT CONTINUE READING IF THIS MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE this is also extremely confusing I tried making it sound normal 🫶🫶🫶

“Why would she want to die?” Asked one of the dead girls friends, “dunno she had everything yet she became greedy” said the other, standing in front her grave, if the girl was still alive she would’ve choked her, only a pathetic person would be able to make fun of a person in-front their own grave.

Well it’s not like she heard it anyway, and frankly if she did at the moment she wouldn’t care, “I mean she was pathetic with her reincarnation thing and reading fake stuff about it” the friend continued her rant, As she woke up in a non existent body in one of the first novels she’d ever read, but knowing where she was and who’s daughter she was.

To tell the truth, she had reincarnated as the non existent oldest daughter of claude de Alger obelia, the same person who almost drowned his daughter the first he hung around with her, the same person who also killed said daughter in her point of view before she reincarnated, Now she didn’t want the same path, of course she didn’t do the same thing as athanansia did with the rubys, money and gold.

Instead she opted to just hiding away from everyone, it was almost like she was purposely isolating herself, but the maids took it as a joke as she was still a young kid, almost anytime she tired hiding away, one of the maids would find her and then take her back to her room, So she started exploring the entirety of the ruby palace, from up to bottom every bedroom and bathroom.

So of course she soon found the abandoned library, sure it was hard to open the door, but she managed!.

Upon entering said library, it was clear it hadn’t been touched nor used for a very long time, as she took steps her shoes would leave footprints from the dust on the floor, every book she touched had collected dust, While looking around her eyes seemed to wander to a nearly unheard of twinkling sound coming, it sounded sweet almost as if it was luring her in, she searched everywhere to find the source of the sound, which she did!.

It was a old diary frankly she didn’t know it was one till she opened it and read the contents of it, it didnt have a label only twinkling stars surrounding it, of course as a curious 7 year old who can read, she decided to read it.

At first it was boring, the handwriting was messy, as if a child was writing it, it started as writing about what they did throughout the day, it was clear that this diary belonged to someone who had a high noble status.

Soon the soft twinkling noises became cackling noises, it was extremely loud to her ears,but she nonetheless continued, flipping it till she reached a point where the cackling noises sounded so loud that it resembled gun noises, she slowly covered her ears and tried running away from the book.

But she couldn’t, why?, the dust had become fog, just slightly more browner, so with her still covering her ears, coughing sounds erupted from her throat, her eyes becoming watery so she had to close them, she kneeled to the floor continuously coughing as the dust began entering her nose.

Her hands quickly moved from her ears, to her mouth and nose, once everything had settled, and the blonde could finally breathe properly, she slowly opened her eyes, they were met with greenery instead of a dusty library, now this was confusing, as she knew she didn’t walk out of the library.

Because of course she couldn’t, and to her knowledge she didn’t inherit any magical powers, of course it no longer looked like she was in ruby palace, this place was way to extravagant to ruby palace!.

Now she couldn’t go back unless she finds out a way, so she decided to wander around for a bit!.

The blonde haired girl was getting tired, usually she would walk longer, but her legs were giving out, she of course was scared of getting noticed by who ever owns or works here, she’d already worked so hard to not die nor meet any important character, why does she need to die now after being alive for 7 years?.

So she opted to sitting behind a tree hiding her body from everyone, “I’ll just sit here till I gain my strength back!” She thought, she’d lived quietly her entire life, of course this would’ve been easy.

If she wasn’t a noisy person, not even a minute had passed before she started hearing hiccuping noises, it sounded like a boy was crying, whether she wanted to know who was crying or didn’t, it see,ed like her body was punishing her as it started moving by itself to the crying sounds.

There was a boy who was older then her maybe 10?, his appearance matched Claude’s appearance exactly!, but then there was his brother, who looked the same, the girl was standing behind him obviously just starring at him, of course he felt a sudden stare on him, so to his surprise he finds a tiny girl with blue eyes gawking at him.

“What are you staring at?!” He asked slightly embarrassed that someone had caught him crying his eyes out, “Well obviously you your the only person here!” She answered back deciding to sit next to him, “So what where you crying about also what’s your name!” She asked not really caring about what he was crying about, wanting to find out his name only.

“Claude” he mumbled turning his head the other way to whip his tears away, “O-oh” frantically she was quite disappointed, but if this was her hill to die on so be it!, she died once she wouldn’t be scared of facing death again right?, “Well?, aren’t you going to tell me your name” he demanded, “Name..” she answered.

“Then claude, do you want to be my friend?” She extended her hand to his smiling, “W-what do you know who you want to be friends with?” He asked, “yes I do know so do you or do you not?” She asked again, clearly nervous of getting rejected again by the same man who rejected her as a grown adult, being friends with your dad isn’t the best especially when you’ve never personally known him.

“Fine!” He accepted the seven year olds request shaking her hand in confirmation.

“Great” she whispered smiling happily.

“Great..” he said glancing at her hand then eyes.

Of course she found out that by simply it turning night she would return to her original world, the world where the only people who knew of her existence were the maids and lowly knights assigned to the ruby palace, It was good opportunity for the girl cause returning from both worlds affects the timeline greatly, when she’d go to child claude and return at night, It would also become night.

Which meant the maids could leave her alone for days at times, so that’s how the cycle continued, of course every time she returned claude would age up continuously he’d age up a lot in the four years she’d been with him.

In those four years, claude had told her about every aspect of his life, the way his step mother treated him, his brother, family issues, favorite food, Felix, claude slowly realized he’d grown a fond of his friend, he felt like she was a mini version of him, he didn’t notice the way she still looked younger while he looked older, he’d never notice that.

At some point the blonde haired girl knew she needed to stop being around him, it was so that so she doesn’t affect the story line, she’d never want that of course, and so when y/n turned 11, she’d known she’d need to stop, as the storyline was so close to happening, she slowly forced herself to forget she’d ever meet her father as a kid, she knew she needed to stop when he mentioned that his newborn daughter looked like a split image of her.

Now claude would never forget about the friend he made in the garden, how could he?, the way he met her to him was fascinating, he was determined to find her, As the now older man ran a hand threw his hair, he didn’t remember much of you, he remembered how you looked like, he’d know you if he spotted you anywhere, but he just can’t seem to find you anywhere?.

Were you a fairy or an angel?, or were you the ghost of his daughter from another life haunting him as a child.

“Felix!!” The young girl yelled running up to the red haired man, “y/n how are you?” He asked bowing to her, Felix never met you as a child he’d found you behind a tree asleep and took you back when you were eight, ever since he’d been giving you gold to help you escape, as he knew you’d never want to meet your oh so scary dad that you accidentally met when he was a kid.

He just presumed you’d heard rumors about how he killed his own lover afterbirth alongside all his concubines in the palace you’d been at your entire life.

“This time” she breathed heavily as she’d been running, “give me 500 gold please” the blonde begged clasping her hands together mustering the cutest face she could pull off, the red head chuckled softly before handing you 300, “hey! I said 500 not 300”

“Y/n come on what do you need 500 for?”

“Why are you asking please just give it promise you won’t ever see me again” she pleaded with him, “fine don’t let anyone find out though” , he sighed before handing an extra 200.

“Of course I won’t!” The girl replied before running away waving him off with a smile.

“His majesty must never find out..” he mutter returning back to his duties or precisely to Claude’s office.

Y/n kept her promise, she had snuck out in the middle of the night leaving almost everything behind except things she held dearly, and had bought a cabin far away from the capital.

As the years passed by y/n turned 22, it had been a long time sense she’d seen Claude, she’d heard of him of course and her sister athanasia, sense the two had a huge age gap, her younger sister had turned 15 recently, she’d wished she could’ve celebrated with her but she knew if she ever went back there something she’d never want to happen will happen.

Claude had frequent dreams of his childhood friend turning older, claude was forgetting her appearance, it was irritating to him, So the man knew that she wasn’t hiding in the capital she was on the outskirts of it.

He’d heard her say she’d hope to get a cabin on the outskirts of the capital in one of his dreams, Felix knew what was happening to claude wasn’t great he’d tried to stop him multiple times, “are you telling me what I can and can’t do?” Claude asked Felix as the redhead had held his body forbidding him from escaping.

“Your majesty your losing your mind over a nonexistent person” Felix yelled at him, “nonexistent? Felix do you know what the fuck your telling me right now?” The man replied, he cursed him out to no end that night, Felix was getting tired of it, the emperor was going insane over his daughter whom he hadn’t talked nor seen for 22 years, yet now he wanted to talk to her?.

Felix knew where you lived as you made the purchase with his money and he got mail saying he bought a cabin, he threw it out not caring what you did with the money.

Claude was smiling manically the day he knew where you lived, “your highness are you sick?” Felix asked, “No why would you ask that” he replied leaning his head on his hand starring at the paperwork.

Of course, claude knew who you were now, that you were his daughter, that you were the same person who he had met as a desperate kid with no friends.

Claude’s obsession was growing out of proportion, when claude found out where his precious daughter was, he stormed over there an hour later, Felix tried everything possible in his ability to stop him.But he couldn’t.

In those years that you had lived in the cabin your only thought, that was to die, but you couldn’t. You lived in a cabin for no reason, the purpose you couldn’t complete anymore.

While you were asleep, you heard a huge bang at you door, quickly getting up, she opened the door, revealing a tall male with blonde hair and diamond like blue eyes.

Claude starred at his daughter, daggers almost, “I’ve finally found you y/n” he smiled, it was terrifying, how did he find you?, how did he even know who you are, this was absolute hell, the girl tried shutting the door but his grip was stronger then hers, “you can’t run away from now” he said “my daughter” he pushed. The door open and pulled her into a one sided hug.

It was terrifying being held by the same man whom you have been trying to avoid for the past 22 years of your life, he found you like it was nothing, the way he was hugging you was almost bone crushing.

He swiftly knocked you out, knowing the moment he left go of you you’d try to escape.

And he’d never ever let you leave his side ever again, you’ll be forced with the title of the princess whether you like it or not.

Befriending claude de Alger obelia was the worst mistake you’d ever made.

On a side note my request are always open! I don’t bite 🫶

[maximwtf]

Can you write Villain/tall era! peridot x sapphire! reader? Idk what else to put there but maybe she was with peridot to help her with her research? (like directions, how the experiment would likely turn out etc) ;p

  Peridot  x Sapphire reader

words: 1480

google docs pages: 3

Warnings: none?

opening: A sapphire has been assigned to join Peridot on her research concerning the kindergartens and the cluster on earth. How can you make the stubborn gem listen to you?

AN// Thank you for the request! I’m looking forward to writing more su fanfics!^^ I’m mainly going to write for Pearl, Peridot, Holly blue agate, Jasper and Yellow/Blue diamond for now!

I’m also not sure if sapphires can see multiple futures or just one, but I think they’d be more useful if they could see many, so that’s what I went with !

Gif by: Me

                    “Watch out!”

You had been assigned to follow and help a peridot on her mission. She had been sent on earth to check on the cluster and to do tests on the old kindergartens. Your job was to make sure nothing goes wrong, and to keep the green gem safe. 

But before the two of you could even warp there, the homeworld warp pad on earth had to be fixed. To do that, the green technician had sent a bunch of  flask robonoids down there. In all of the futures you saw, the warp pad had been fixed, which meant that there was nothing to warn Peridot of. 

You watched from behind as the gem typed something on a screen, mumbling about log dates as she went on. You happened to hear her state her facet and cut number too. Peridot Facet-2F5L Cut-5XG. Unimportant information, but you’d still savour it in the back of your mind. You heard the screen she had been typing on close and the boot of her limb enhancers hit the surface of the warp pad. “The robonoids have finished their task.” She said, indicating that it was time to go on earth for the first time. You made your way on the pad too, standing next to the tall green gem. Your form looked much smaller than her’s, but that didn’t bother you. A bright white light overtook the bodies of you two, moving you to a warp pad you had never stood on before. The blue sky matched you perfectly, alongside with the blue crystal like warps that surrounded the two of you. The stomping noises the peridot had made got your attention. She was making sure the warp pad was properly fixed, but you already knew it was. The robonoids had done a good job on it. 

As Peridot began to write down another log date, your attention started to wander. Her voice and the noises from the screen were just background noise now. Your mind went through multiple futures to see if there was any danger around the area. In most of them, the first visit seemed calm, no danger. A silent gasp left your mouth, not loud enough to alert the working peridot. In a few of the futures a group of gems appeared. You furrowed your brow and kept looking. There was no way that could have been the most possible future. Were you imagining things? 

The sound of Peridot breaking one of the damaged robonoids brought you back to reality. “Peridot.” You said silently, turning to look at her even though she couldn’t see your eye. She seemed to have not heard you, as she walked down the small steps, only to find something that didn’t belong there. “Peridot!” You said a little louder this time. She looked up at you. “There’s something here. We still have time to go.” You said quietly, still unsure if the gems you had seen were here, and if they were, where were they? Even with the uncertainty, it was safer to leave for now. “So it seems. This site may have been compromised.” The green gem said as she got up. With the newly found item in her hand, she stepped back on the warp pad. 

You watched her place a glowing green box on it and then you were off again, soon back on homeworld. 

After this, and throughout the whole mission a group of gems and ‘a Steven’ had been on your backs. They were in all of the possible futures you saw. With your help, she had been able to avoid most contact with the gems, up until she had started to act on her own. The green gem had lost the bottom part of her limb enhancers on one of her legs, and also all contact to homeworld. You were stranded. Telling the green gem that ‘I told you so’ didn’t help. This mission was sensitive, and as much as the peridot seemed to want to change the future, it shouldn’t have been done here. That had ended the two of you in the least likely future, where you got stranded. 

There was one future that you saw. One where this ‘Steven’ was able to fix the homeworld warp pad. And so you had sent Peridot on a mission to get this Steven to the Galaxy Warp, where you were waiting. 

The place was calm, not a noise nearby. Only the sound of waves hitting the sides of the Galaxy Warp. You had located yourself on the homeworld warp pad, sitting on top of it as you waited. 

Soon, a bright light overtook the darkness of the night, and Peridot appeared with the ‘Steven’. They fought for a while, before the green gem got tired of wrestling and levitated the ‘Steven’ in the air. It was asking what the two of you wanted, which she replied to by saying. “I want to get off this lousy Gem-forsaken planet!” Before dropping him on the ground. She did most of the talking, telling the ‘Steven’ why she needed him.

Peridot had placed herself in front of you, knowing you were more precious than her. Your personal rubies had stayed on homeworld, and not that they could come and help anymore either. You had no way to contact home. This mission was supposed to be quick and easy, but you should have seen this coming. 

As of right now, there seemed to be no threats. ‘Steven’ would either be able to fix the warp pad or not, but as of now him fixing it seemed the most possible. You watched him try, but nothing happened. The warp was still broken, and you had no way to go back home. Your mind began to wander through possible futures again. What if that didn’t work, what then? 

Peridot kept yelling at the Steven in the background, which you had grown used to over the time you had spent with her. A lot of complaining. A second silent gasp left your mouth. The likely future was the one where the gems appeared here. In that it either ended with you escaping with Peridot or-  The futures began to mix again as Peridot began to speak of the cluster. And so it happened, the gems appeared right on time. 

Peridot placed herself in front of you, shooting at the gems. Your mind was going through the most likely situations as quick as it could, but nothing seemed to lock in place. Hearing the gems beat up the green gem in the background was when you saw it. They were going to poof her. “Peridot!” You called out, but just a little too late. You watched Pearl place herself behind the green gem as distraction, and when Peridot would turn around, Garnet would finish her. 

You sped up to her, dodging an attack Amethyst had been trying to land on you. Taking a firm grip on the green gem’s hand, you tried to run off the edge of the altar with her, but it was too late. Just as you were able to take a hold of her hand, Garnet grabbed Peridot’s waist which caused her to poof in a matter of seconds. Hearing her gem fall on the ground stunned you, but there was no time to stagger. 

As stubborn as the gem was, and as much as you would have liked to blame her for getting you trapped here, you needed her. Ducking down as the pearl’s spear went over your head, you picked up the green gem and sped to the other side of the arena. After placing yourself on one of the warp pads, your mind found the most peaceful place to warp to. You had to give Peridot time to reform. 

With one last look at the limb enhancers from which smoke rose from, the warp pad under you activated. It consumed you and the green gem in your hand with bright white light, and took you away from harm's way. The gems would be after the two of you, but in a good hiding place you might have just been able to stay for long enough to get Peridot back. She wanted back home just as much as you did. Without the limb enhancers the already failed mission would have been even harder to complete, but you could try. Maybe she would now listen to you. 

Pt. 2 - "Keeping up hopes."

[missnxthingg]

Just for Tonight | Xavier Thorpe

Summary: Xavier Thorpe might not be best friends with (Y/N), but when he sees her crying at the Rave'N, he couldn't help it but go talk to her

A/N: So might obsession with Xavier Thorpe and Wednesday might've gone too far. So this is my fanfic comeback - in another fandom. I still don't have a taglist for Xavier, but let me know if you want to be tagged in future potential fics. OH, AND PLEASE SEND ME REQUESTS FOR HIM! I wanna write, but I don't have inspos right now. (EDIT: If it wasn't explicit enough, I DO NOT ALLOW ANYONE TO REPOST MY STORIES ON ANY OTHER ACCOUNTS. If you wanna read my stories on Wattpad, you can follow me there [@missnxthingg])

Words: 2.5K

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Female!Reader

Warnings: Not proof read, so there might be some typos. I think there might be a few cursings. But other than that, just a little bit of enemies to lovers that we're all found of

main masterlist | main blog | taglist

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Xavier Thorpe hated (Y/N) (Y/L/N). That wasn't news to anyone in Nevermore. He hated how smart she was and how she seemed to be friends with everyone around her. He got easily annoyed with her mere presence in the room. But tonight, something different sparkled inside him when he saw her leaving the room crying.

She had been excited for the Rave'N since they announced a date. She got even more excited when Harry McGowan invited her as his date. Enid dragged her and Wednesday for a shopping spree, where she found a beautiful baby blue dress. Everything was perfect, until Harry dumped her right after they arrived at the dance for one of Yoko's vampire friends.

(Y/N)'s golden and happy aura dissipated immediately after those words came out of Harry's mouth. She ran out of the room with tears in her eyes. She just didn't count that Xavier Thorpe was sitting alone at a table, watching the whole thing unfold in front of his eyes. 

After a huge fight with his father, he decided he wasn't in the mood to invite someone to the dance as a date. Actually, he was only sitting there because Ajax would kill him if he didn't tag along. But when his best friend got occupied with his own date, Xavier was left sipping on virgin punch, that tasted more like cough syrup, on the dining table

So when (Y/N) ran across the room, something clicked inside Xavier's head. His chest got heavy and he immediately shot up from his seat and ran after her. She was crying alone in the corner, sitting on the floor close to the toilets.

He ducked in front of her, who now had her face between her knees, shielding it from anyone else to see her crying. But Xavier let a hand fly to her shoulder, making (Y/N) look up.

"Hey, are you okay?" His voice sounded softer than any of the other times he talked to her. Anyone could hear how worried Xavier was at that moment. (Y/N) looked up and found his piercing green eyes observing her with attention.

"No." She admitted, crying a little bit harder. "But I don't think you would like to hear about it. You can't stand me, after all."

"Come on, you're crying. I would never, ever, walk away from you like this." He said. "And I don't hate you, even if you don't believe it. Maybe you could try pretending I'm a friend to you."

(Y/N) stayed silent, looking at his face to decide what to do, until she nodded "Harry McGowan ditched me for one of Yoko's friends. Said she was hotter and that he didn't want to be my date anymore."

"What a fucking asshole, I'm gonna beat the shit out of him." Xavier's jaw clenched and he quickly shot up to go talk to Harry. But (Y/N) ran after him and held him by the elbow.

"No, Xavier! Please, it would be worse to end the night at Weems' office talking about what happened." She said and his eyes softened when he saw that she was crying harder now. (Y/N)'s eyeliner was smudged, almost ruining the soft, but pretty, makeup she was wearing.

"Do you have eyeliner with you?" He asked and she nodded, pointing to her purse. "Okay, let's go find a restroom."

Fortunately, the men's restroom was empty. Xavier took her by the hand and helped her sit on the sink to get a better vision of her face. He took a few paper wipes and started planning what he would do next.

"What are you doing?" She asked and he shushed her.

"Taking care of you." He said. "No pretty girl deserves to cry at the Rave'N."

"Suddenly I'm a pretty girl to you?" She asked. "You literally shouted how annoying I am for the whole school to hear countless of times. And now you're taking care of me?"

"I don't know, (Y/N)." He said, taking the paper to clean the smudge makeup spots on her face. "I saw you crying and I couldn't take it. I needed to see if you were okay."

(Y/N) could see how honest he was from up close. Xavier was concentrated on his job, fixing the makeup like the very detailed artist he is. So she simply decided to believe his words and let him do his job.

"You shouldn't cry, though. Harry's an idiot for thinking anyone else looks prettier than you tonight." He said. "He's just wrong."

"You think so?"

"Are you kidding me? Look at you." Xavier laughed. His pretty dimples showed on his face, making (Y/N) smile. "You look amazing, (Y/N)."

"Thank you." She said. 

Now Xavier had her pen eyeliner in hands and asked her to close her eyes. Doing this was easier than he thought it would be. It's like paiting details on a canvas. Soon he was done and (Y/N) was back to how she looked when she first crossed the entrance.

"Where's your date?" 

"Didn't invited anyone." He admitted. "I'm having a few problems with my dad and I wasn't in the mood for partying. Ajax dragged me here tonight."

"I'm so sorry." (Y/N) rested a hand on his shoulder and smiled sadly. "I'm here if you wanna talk."

"It's stupid. We're always arguing about his absence in my life. But he doesn't agree with me because he believes money is enough." (Y/N) saw his eyes brimming with tears and didn't hesitate in pulling him into a hug. Xavier was surprised at first, but easily melted into her touch.

"I think both of us needed this tonight." She whispered in his ear.

"I think we did." He replied, holding her a little tighter, afraid she would let go too soon. Xavier didn't know he needed someone to be there for him until that moment.

It's been a while since anyone hugged him. It felt so warm and nice, especially coming from (Y/N). So he rested his head above hers and sighed, trying to not fall into a heavier cry. This wasn't about him. He was there to comfort her.

"I'm sorry." He started, his head still comfortably resting above hers. "For being a dick with you all the time. You're not a bad person."

"It's okay, I was an idiot too." She said back, still holding him close to her. "You're not bad, either. Actually, I have to say thank you for comforting me tonight."

"It was nothing." He giggled during his crying. "No one deserves to miss the dance because of some stupid boy." 

"Then dance with me." She leaned back and looked him in the eyes. (Y/N) wiped the tears from Xavier's face, making him smile. And so, he offered his hand to help her off the restroom's sink.

"It will be my pleasure." He pulled her back to the room where everyone was having a good time. 

Of course, the duo walking into the room together brought a lot of attention to them. Most people were surprised to see them holding hands, not choking each other's throats. Xavier and (Y/N) danced to a lot of upbeat songs and some good classics through the night, making everything they went through that night disappear. But when a slow song started, things changed.

"I don't know how to slow dance." She admitted and Xavier's eyes softened.

"I'll teach you." He pulled her in, one hand resting on her hip and the other one holding hers. (Y/N) left her free hand on his shoulder, but still was very far away from him. "Come on, I don't bite."

Feeling her cheeks heat up, (Y/N) took a step forward and got closer to Xavier. He pulled her even closer a few seconds later, making it perfectly intimate.

"This is good." He whispered. "Now we just sway to the song. There's no secret recipe to slow dance.

"Okay." She smiled at him and started following his steps to the song. Xavier never felt so relaxed in his life and he didn't know why.

But when (Y/N) rested her face on his chest, he knew why he felt so relaxed. He was with her, after all. And suddenly, all the months filled with hatred and fights became clear to him: he only got annoyed because he liked her. Now that they let their guards down, it was easy to see it.

And oh, he was so close. Xavier could just lean down and kiss her right there. But he couldn't. He didn't want their kiss to be judged by everyone watching around. Not to mention that (Y/N) looked so peaceful with her eyes closed, swaying her body to the music.

"I thought my night was ruined, but you really turned it around, Xavi."

"Xavi?" He asked, a little surprised by the way she called him.

"It's a nickname, don't you like it?" She asked and he smiled.

"I do." He said. "It's just, I'm not used to it. But it's a cute nickname."

"Like the owner." She smiled up to him and Xavier could swear he would die right there. He just wanted to kiss her, but he didn't want to do it in a crowded room.

"Can I take you somewhere?"

She frowned in confusion, but trusted him to take her somewhere private. And they walked for a few minutes until reaching a small shed in the woods. (Y/N) knew it was his private art studio, but she had never stepped inside. It was like walking into Xavier's mind, one of the most different experiences in her life. They had their hands linked together, fingers laced and everything. He searched for some reaction on her face.

"This is my studio." He said. "I think that if we are being vulnerable tonight, this is the place where I am vulnerable all the time."

"Everything in here is amazing." She took a good look at some of his sketches pinned on the wall, admiring most of them.

"I have a drawing of you." He admitted. "Bigger than I'd like to admit."

Xavier uncovered a canvas and showed (Y/N) a big painting of her, focusing on her book at the library and scrunching her nose in concentration. He smiled to remember the day he sketched that, another bad afternoon she turned around just by existing.

"I was so fucking sad that day. I was pissed and wanted to be alone. But of course, my Miss Perfect was at the library." He said. "But you were just so concentrated in your book, looking beautiful as hell, and didn't even notice me in the room. So I just started drawing you in silence and it made me feel better."

"I look so beautiful in this one."

"You always do. I think that's your superpower." He giggled. "And it's my favorite painting here. I love everything about it."

"I think it just became my favorite too." She said with a big smile. "You never really hated me, did you?"

"I think it was just me failing on how to express my feelings." He said. "My communication only works through art."

"Well, if you're gonna continue drawing me, then you'll have to stop with the stupid fights over nothing." She poked his chest, teasing him with a pretty smirk.

"Never again, promise you." He extended his pinky and she took it with her own finger. "Thank you for the company tonight."

"No, thank you for consoling me tonight." (Y/N) said. "I really needed someone to take care of me at that moment and I'm glad it was you."

"Yeah, I'm glad too." He smiled. "You know, when I saw you crying, I just couldn't take it. I wanted to take care of you."

"You did, Xavi." She held his face between her hands and he glued his forehead to hers. "And I'll always remember this as the night you were there for me."

Xavier was paralyzed by her gaze, so he didn't talk for a few seconds until he said: "I really want to kiss you right now."

(Y/N) replied by pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss. Xavier was mesmerized by how she tasted in his mouth, but easily grew fond of that new feeling. So he deepened the kiss by tugging her on the waist and pulling her closer to him. She parted her lips and he easily captured her tongue in a bolder move. She smiled into the kiss, but didn't stop it for a second. But after a long time slowly making out in the quiet night, Xavier had to pull away.

"God, you're so beautiful." He put a stray of her hair behind her ear and smiled wider.

"You said that like three times tonight."

"Just can't help myself." He joked, making her laugh. "Especially when you're out there serving looks in this amazing dress."

"Well, you're not far behind." (Y/N) fixed the bow he wrapped around his neck to substitute the usual tie. Xavier got to see every detail from her face by looking at her so close to him.

"Come on, I'll walk you back to your dorm." He extended a hand to her and she whined, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. 

"Don't want tonight to end." She whispered and he hugged her tightly. "Can we stay here?"

"You have to sleep, beautiful." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "And I'll be here tomorrow. We can have breakfast together and we can hang around here. What do you think?"

"I think that would be great."

He captured her lips in one last kiss and softly dragged her out of the shed. Most students were getting back from the party at that time. Xavier and (Y/N) took their time on the walk back, arms linked and casual conversation making everything nicer. 

When they got back to Ophelia Hall, Xavier was glad Thornhill was still at the party. So he got to take (Y/N) up to her room, where they shared a few more goodbye kisses when no one was around. 

"Thank you for everything tonight." She fixed the collar of his shirt and smiled. "When everything turned to shit, you made it all perfect again."

"I had an amazing time with you." He admitted. "I'm glad we get to be friends after everything we went through."

"I think we skipped a few steps on this new friendship." She laughed and he tagged along before pecking her lips again.

"Don't really care right now." He said. "We can be friends that kiss each other."

"I can take it." She kissed him again until they heard someone coming in the hall.

"Hey, good night, beautiful." He kissed her forehead and smiled down at her. "I'll see you tomorrow for breakfast.

"Good night, Xavi." She returned his gesture with a kiss on the cheek. "Sleep tight."

"I'll be thinking of you." He shouted from the end of the hall, making (Y/N) giggled.

"Me too." She shouted back before entering her room again.

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[themotherofhorses]

Hi

I've spent several days weighing upon this absolutely difficult and painful decision. I spoke to my two closest mutuals, to make sure I was making the correct choice. I think I am.

I'm done with writing. As Marie Kondo might say, "this one does not spark joy."

I know what you might be thinking. "Vic, you said you were updating this weekend!" I did. But then, every time I opened up my doc to edit that LOHHNM chapter, I kept thinking about that one anon. I know I shouldn't, but hearing someone say, " [other fanfic author] would definitely write Last of Her House No More/ His Handmaid's Tales better. They would do what you can't," fucking hurts. I know, I know, I know. But my confidence is gone, as embarrassing as that might sound. I've rewritten this damn chapter *three* times because I feel so shitty writing/editing it.

At this point, I just don't want to write anymore.

So i'm not going to pressure myself into doing so. Not right now, anyways. Maybe I'll return in the future, once I regain my spark/motivation/desire. Any writing I do, it will be centered around my OCs; perhaps I'll find more growth during this time.

(I have this totally adorable story in the works, actually. It's an original work and I'm CRAZY for it).

In the meantime, my fanfics will remain posted. My blog will always be open if there is anyone that rereads my writing. I'll still be active too! I'll reblog, comment, answer any dms, etc. I might be done with writing, but definitely not with my sweet moots.

From the bottom of my heart, I thank you all for joining me on this short journey of mine. I'm happy so many liked all my silly stories. I'm truly sorry it has to end like this, and I'm truly sorry that I'm letting so many people down, but I need to put my mental health first. I love y'all. I so truly fucking do.

To all the other HOTD fanfic writers out there, I wish you all the luck in the world <3 so many talented individuals out there. I know this fandom will NEVER lack creativity and good-fucking-food hehe.

Until I get all my little braincells together to write something, I bid you adieu.

[hallowbees]

good evening rottmnt community. so i haven't written fanfic in almost a decade, but whilst taking a break from working on a rottmnt fanfic, i have written... another rottmnt fanfic. i wanted to play around with different povs and tenses than i usually use, and decided to use casey jr and the future timeline to try it out - it was super fun to write, so i thought why not share it!!

you're a lifesaver, casey jones

fives times casey jones junior saves the resistance, and the one time it doesn’t feel like a victory

five months old

You’re only five months old when you save the resistance for the first time. You’re so young.

The shattered remains of a home cradle you, muscle memory from the years of keeping a family long gone safe and warm, and even if you can feel the wind as it whistles through the cracks in the bricks and the sky looms red, enemy drones and rubble floating above you like a cot mobile, you don’t cry. Your little life has already taught you the harshest lesson of the apocalypse, and it’s not that crying won’t get you anywhere; crying will get you somewhere alright, six feet deep in a grave if the wrong ones hear you. Of course you don’t actually know that, not in that way at least, but you do know crying only ever wears you out. Tough lesson to learn, ain't it kid, but you learnt it well. You might just make it yet. 

There’s no telling how long you’ve been here- could have been five minutes, could have been forever, it's all the same to you. It’s unlikely that there are any coherent thoughts rattling around in that little brain of yours yet, but if so, they might sound something like this; I miss you, I miss you, where did you go? I’m hungry, it hurts, I miss you. Where did everyone go? I miss you. The same thoughts plague most brains these days, everyone’s got a ‘you’ to miss. We’ll all be ‘you’ someday, if we’re lucky. God, this is all quite morbid isn’t it, little one? It’s okay, though. Remember, this is a story about how you save them. It’s a happy story, you’ll get your happily ever after, even if they don’t all live.

She looks a lot like you, strangely. It’s something about the eyes, dark and strong, and the general aura of defiance. Maybe that’s why she finds you first, she feels a kinship in your ‘warrior spirit’, as she calls it, ‘a true fighter’, she calls you. ‘They are a baby, babies cannot fight. Primarily because they are still in the very early stages of fine motor skills development and cannot wield weapons yet, amongst other reasons.’ another voice says, but he doesn’t know just how hard you already have fought, will fight still. You’re there, and that is everything these days. She comes to your defence, proclaiming you ‘the strongest fighter of the resistance’, and ‘silence, purple one!’. You can’t tell that the second shout isn’t aimed at you, but what you can tell is that it's warm in her arms and now you only see her and not the broken sky above you. It’s not ‘you’, and you’re still not sure where everyone went, but this still feels comfortable. This feels like home, you think.

That’s the moment you break, and the tears start. You cry, and you cry, and you are surrounded by her. Her voice is low now, a tone rusty in use but so sure of itself as she tells you that you’re okay, you’re safe, she’s got you. ‘Poor thing, they must be so scared.’ comes a new voice, and there's a blur of orange (once you figure out what orange is, it’ll become your favourite colour, one of four favourites) over her shoulder. ‘Ain’t we all.’ comes a low rumble from behind. ‘They won’t be anymore. We’ve got them now.’ she says, and that’s how you meet your strange little family. Some of it, that is - there are more, an aunt and a grandfather or two, so many people ready to love you. 

She doesn’t just give you a name, she gives you hers. You’re Casey Jones Junior, a reminder that something always comes after. You don’t know yet how badly Casey Jones Senior had needed that reminder - she’s spent her whole life in pursuit of what’s next, in hopes that its greater than what’s now (a promotion, a resurrection, a fabled leader) and despair that it never is (better luck next time recruit, they could do it all without her, she breaks the chains that spell his downfall herself). When she finds the apocalypse next, she starts to think that maybe nothing next would be quite alright, but then there’s you and for the first time she truly feels like she’s on the right track. 

She carries you home, her family around her and in her arms, and Casey Jones Senior resolves to keep fighting another day. 

four years old

In your defence, such a sharp weapon should have never been left in your curious reach. In his, there's so much to keep on top of when you’re spearheading a resistance that if a sai or two get misplaced in the process, can anyone really blame him? Your hand is being patched up as he is berated once again, because ‘you know that weapons stay on you at all times, Raph’, and ‘why are they even sharp? Aren’t sai meant to be blunt?’. He groans out something about being a stupid teenager once upon a time, wondering what would happen if he sharpened his weapon the same way his brother did his swords, much out of the same curiosity that got you into this very predicament. He sounds like he might cry, but you can’t work out why. It’s your palm that's bleeding, and you didn’t even make a peep. That might have been the problem, though - no one noticed until your blood was smeared across the floor and that’s a sight no one can stomach. You were scooped up quickly, and he looks haunted. ‘He’ could have been anyone in the room.

“Raph’s sorry, lil’ guy.”. He’s gentle, so gentle, as he kneels before you and takes your bandaged hand. “I promise I won’t leave ‘em out again like that.”. There’s no promise that you won’t get hurt again, because no one likes to break a promise, but the way he smiles at you, still so gentle, makes all the pain go away.

“Can I hold ‘em again when I’m bigger please?” you ask, and of course you can’t see it but there’s a little sparkle in your eyes as you look up at him, glimmering like the stars that are still above you even if you can’t see them anymore, in the sky that no longer belongs to Earth. Let's look on the bright side though; it could still be ours again someday.

“Um… if your Mom says you can, then sure thing, buddy. But only when you’re older.”. Your mom will say yes, she always says yes because there is nothing that a Jones cannot do, so you cheer and throw your tiny little arms around his far bigger neck. You can’t hold all of him, so you just squeeze extra tight so he still feels the love all over. A hand comes to pat you on the back, and you certainly feel loved in his hold. 

“Why’d you want to hold ‘em so bad anyways, bud?” he asks, and you grin. It’s big and toothy, with a little gap right at the front where you lost your first tooth, and thank god that you lost it in the natural way, and not the way most people lose teeth these days.

“I wanna be just like Uncle Raphie!”. He melts, and the tears are back. Rather than wipe them away though, he just squeezes you closer. 

It’s one of the last memories you’ll get of Raphael, so please hold onto it. Hold onto it just as tight as you held onto his neck that day, held him long enough for the blood to seep through your bandages and make its mark on his skin. 

…

Well, anyways - there’s a conversation later that night that you’re not privy to. You’re probably fast asleep by your mother’s side when the clock strikes this antisocial hour. 

“He’s so little. Too little. Casey shouldn’t be even thinking about holding weapons yet.”.

Yet, yet, yet, it’s always yet. Weaponry is waiting for you in the future, and no one can lie, there are keen eyes on you as you play around the resistance base, to spot any signs of affinity for particular weapon types and fighting styles (you’re fast, get up close and personal, and there will be a brute force behind your hits if you really want there to be - someone offhandedly mentions hockey and the blueprints are already being drawn up). 

“Maybe it would be better to start him young. It is inevitable, after all.”. That’s probably the toughest pill for them to swallow, that when you grow up (if, if you grow up - that would be even harder to choke down if they would let themselves even consider it) you’ll be thrown to the front lines. 

But hey - we’re looking on the bright side, remember?

“C’mon guys, enough with the doom and gloom! Think of it this way - at least there will be someone to keep on fighting after us. And he’s going to be far more prepared than we ever could have been. Seriously, he’s like, the apocalypse nepo baby.”. You’d be shocked by how funny the apocalypse could be sometimes. It has to be, because if you don’t laugh you’ll cry, and you already know where crying gets you. It’s not the best joke, but it gets a snort from someone. “He’s got no choice but to succeed. I’m calling it now, Casey’s gonna be the one to end this someday. ”

“S’not much of a bright side. He’ll still have to fight.”. 

“Chin up, big guy. Look at what we’ve achieved already. The kind of things Casey’s going to do with all of us behind him? It’s looking pretty bright to me.”. It goes unsaid that most of them probably won’t be there to see it, but it’s enough for now. The thought of you seeing the other side of this war, even if you have to fight for it tooth and nail, it’s enough to let Raph truly think about what the end of the apocalypse could look like for the very first time since Hell arrived on earth. He thinks of the stars, how they’re still shining brightly and how we will see them again. He can even see a small smattering of them in the bleeding sky when he lays dying a few days later, and his final thought is that maybe we’re already starting to turn the tides. 

seven years old

Most people will probably tell you that celebrating a birthday is a waste of time, resources, and energy. The most cynical of the bunch would probably tell you that we don’t actually know when your birthday is, so why are you so confident that it’s today? But, and please don’t repeat this language, fuck them -  you’re seven years old, and isn’t that just incredible? You feel like the luckiest seven year old in the entire resistance (you’re only one of three in this branch, and Laura’s leg got broken yesterday, so your competition isn’t exactly tough) when your culinary wizard of an uncle manages to scrape together some sort of cake. The adults around you grimace a little when they bite into it (culinary wizard he may be, but there’s only so much magic can do), but you think it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted. It’s dry, and sticks to the roof of your mouth, and you’d hesitate to call it chocolate, but you go in for a second helping, and no one stops you because it’s your birthday! There’s more than enough to go around; your family has gotten a little bit smaller, after all. They’re never truly gone though, because you can always see his red bandana, and you’ll always share your name with her. You don’t really remember anything more than a grey blur, but your grandfather’s famous battle cry continues to echo across the frontlines. You make sure to enjoy your second helping even more than the first, just for them. 

There is one slice of cake left, and it has no business sitting on the plate looking all lonely like that. You’re not sure exactly why he didn’t show up this time, but you’re not going to let your special day pass by without seeing him. It may be your day, but the things that make you happy are so much sweeter when you share them; you think it might be because you love your family’s smiles more than anything else in the whole entire world. Pushing yourself up from the comfortable pile of mostly everyone you love on the floor (if some missions had been shifted around to make sure everyone could be here for you today, then no one was going to complain), you pick up the plate and go to find the missing piece of your family’s jigsaw puzzle.

“Where are you taking that, Case? Trying to sneak a third helping?”. Voices are light, and maybe it’s the most at ease you’ve ever seen your family. Today really is special.

“Nope, it’s Uncle Donnie’s and he’s gotta eat it today because tomorrow it’s just cake and that's much less exciting than birthday cake.”. You’re on a mission, just like the ones your uncles and aunt go on, ones you can’t wait to join them on someday, because you don’t want to be anything other than just like them when you finally grow up. Your aunt has even begun teaching you how to fight, and she always tells you what a natural you are (she feels so guilty about it, because it would be so much easier if you weren’t going to be such a powerhouse on the battlefield; there would maybe be cause to clutch you close to her chest and never let you go otherwise).

You might hear what’s said as you leave. “Casey, buddy, maybe you shouldn’t…”. You don’t let it deter you, even if you do.

“Nah, I say let him try. Maybe he’ll finally get through to that brilliantly dumb brain of his.”.

You guard the cake with your life as you run to the lab, because you can’t possibly wait a second longer to see him. This is the one thing that could make your day go from amazing to perfect. Call it your birthday wish, even if you didn’t have a candle to blow out.

You’re not actually sure when you last saw your uncle beyond a fleeting flash of purple at breakfast time, and that one night last week you had a standoff in the corridor at 3am, because you had a nightmare and wanted your Uncle Mikey, and he needed more coffee (if it was just a bit lighter, you’d have seen his damp eyes, and maybe would have figured out that he needed to seek out his brothers just as much as you). You know when you’re going to see him next, though - in about 30 seconds, because you’re standing in front of his door.

Knock, knock, knock. There isn’t a pattern, you just bang on the door with one hand, careful to balance the plate on your other. Bang, bang, bang. You’re greeted with the rhythmic bang of a hammer in response - or at least you think at first, it doesn’t take much waiting to realise that he probably hasn’t heard you. 

Knock, knock, knock. “Uncle Donnie! I have something for you!” you shout, right at the top of your lungs. Bang, bang - “Just leave it outside the door, I’ll get it later.” - bang.

Well, in that case - you sit down, cross legged and leaning against the door. Because sure, you’re bringing him the cake, but you’re really here because you miss him, and just want a little bit of his time. You think that sounds like a fair exchange; he gets a slice of your best birthday cake ever, and you get five minutes with your beloved uncle. Neither of those come around that often, so you should both make the most of it.

He must have underestimated your attention span, because he has the audacity to look shocked that you’re still there when he opens the door and you fall backwards into the lab with a shout of surprise. It’s only been 20 minutes; you’d wait so much longer than that for him. Miraculously, even in your speedy venture to the floor, the cake is still sitting neatly on its plate, and you hold it up with a wide grin. “I got you cake!”.

A million miles an hour is probably a gross underestimation of how fast your uncle’s brain goes at any given moment, for better or worse. The look on his face suggests that for a moment, his thoughts are speeding even by his standards, and then they promptly smash into a brick wall. You can tell by the way his eyes get a little bit too wide, and his mouth falls open a little - it’s an expression you only see in the rare moments he feels like he’s failed, although all you can see is a success - because there he is! You’re still grinning up at him from the floor, even if your arms are starting to shake from holding the plate up. He shakes away the expression, and quickly takes the plate from you. Only to swiftly discard it on a nearby workbench though, in favour of kneeling down and leaning over to look at your blinding grin. 

“Casey… is it today?” he asks, still a little too wide eyed. You giggle a little, because what else would it be, tomorrow? He does genuinely look lost though, so you nod. It’s rare that you know something that he doesn’t, but even if it might feel cool to outsmart the smartest person you know, you fill him in. “Yeah, it’s today! And it’s also my birthday.”. He’s quiet for a moment, teeth worrying his lips as his eyes flick away from your face. “And I’m seven.”.

“Not until 6:47pm.” he says, almost automatically. Once he realises what he’s said, his panicked eyes flick to the screen on his wrist, and you think he’s checking the time.

“You haven’t missed it! I made sure to keep looking at the hands on the clock so I could come and see you before you miss it.”. It’s the time that the scouting-turned-rescue mission seven years ago got back to the base, and an official mission report was made. ‘Baby boy, approximately 5 months old, found in rubble. No others found in immediate vicinity.’, submitted at 6:47pm. It’s never bothered you that it’s not the exact day or moment you were born, it’s the exact day and time your family became just that, and that's what really matters to you. None of your uncles know the exact time and day they were born either (the debate of who’s older still rages on till this day, not even the end of the world can put that argument to rest), so it means you’re just like them. You still can’t imagine wanting to be anything else. 

“Okay.”. He stands up, and offers you a hand. You take it, giggling as he pulls you up a little bit too far and your legs dangle. You kick them for a second, before he notices and puts you back firmly on solid ground. “I have two forks.”. 

You sit in the bean bags he has stashed in the corner of the lab, and the two of you share the last slice of birthday cake. He struggles more than the others to hide his distaste for it, but you think it tastes the best it has yet. The lab door has been left open, and you know that it’s not by mistake, because it could have been shut with a quick tap of a screen, but it stays wide open as the rest of your family files in. You’re all slotted together perfectly when the clock strikes 6:47pm, and you hear your Uncle Donnie sing the loudest as your family wishes you a happy birthday. You think it’s because you’re sitting closest to him, but everyone else can see the way his chest expands as he takes deep breaths, putting his all into his well wishes.

It was easy for him to forget that life isn’t over yet, even if what he’s been burdened with is creating and creating until he has something that will prolong it just that little bit longer. Amidst the cheers of ‘hip hip hooray’, he remembers that moments like this are exactly what he’s toiling away in the lab for. They haven’t gone anywhere yet though, and he doesn’t want to let even a single second of it pass him by again. Donnie actually smiles for once, because you are seven years old now and that really is something incredible. You see him everyday at breakfast after that, with actual food rather than just a mug, and he always has a fork for you. 

eleven years old

You’re just about in the double digits the first time you actually realise that you’ve saved the resistance. It happens so quickly - you’re still not old enough to be out on the field, but it’s all hands on deck when the krang brings the fight to your front door. Maybe don’t say this to anyone else, but you sort of think that it makes your age a moot point - if you can fight like hell when the hallways are caving in and there's pink, pink, pink everywhere, then surely you can join simple scouting missions? No one quite understands why you’re so eager to be out there on the field, and maybe you don’t fully understand either (you definitely don't understand just how dire it is out there, they’ve done a good job of keeping that from you so far), but you know that it’s what you want. It’s what all of your heroes do, after all. You know for a fact that your uncles wanted to be just like their own heroes when they grew up, and now that you’re finally getting taller and your arms are starting to gain a little muscle, why can’t you follow in their footsteps? The only difference is that their heroes were on the TV screen. You’re lucky enough to see yours in the flesh every single day. Two of them, at least. Purple now flutters alongside the fraying red. 

At first, it’s no different from all of the other hounds. It’s gross and dripping, what you think must be teeth gnashing and shockingly red. You’re not stupid, you know that it can’t be krang blood, you don’t think they even have it, but nothing can deter you from swinging your hockey stick right into its side (and you know you could do so much more than just crack it’s bones into tiny little pieces if someone finally listened to you and removed the child lock that Donnie was forced to add), sending it flying sideways. A little blood never bothered you, and it’s a good job, because you’re covered in it. Some of it might be your own, but there’s so much adrenaline pumping through your veins right now that pain doesn’t even stand a chance at stopping you. You feel so alive as you wipe some of that blood from your face (definitely not your own, you’d know if you had a head wound), but your heart stops as you see what was laid beneath the hound. 

It’s your aunt, or what might be left of her - you can’t tell if her chest is still rising and falling or not. She’s teetering on the edge of just being another body in the makeshift morgue, which you know is nearing full already. Your body wants to freeze, your tears want to fall, your voice wants to scream, but listen, here’s what you do instead: drop to your knees, bring your ear right up to her mouth to here those wheezing, determined breaths, then immediately pull the hoodie over your head to first clear enough blood to find the wound, and second put pressure on it as you scream out for help. You’ve got this. You’re doing so well, kid. Just remember to take a few breaths of your own in the middle of all of this chaos. 

Help doesn’t come, but another hound does. You don’t let it get close, as you put those little muscles to use and scoop her up. This one won’t get to her. It snarls at you, and you snarl back, flashing your matching bloody teeth. You turn and run before it can even think about pouncing, and even though she’s heavy, you’re still fast as you jump over rubble and dodge bodies you don’t have time to think about trying to save.

The medbay is still standing, proving that the decision to make it the most out of the way and difficult to reach location in the base was at least somewhat strategic. The krang hasn’t reached it, and based on the mutters of ‘code green’ and ‘it’s over’, they won’t this time. It’s still yet, yet, yet, as you know, but it’s not now so you shove your aunt onto a bed and don’t even wait for an adult to start grabbing bandages and needles. They do still take over eventually, because it doesn’t matter that you just saved Commander O’Neil’s life - you are still just a child. Just barely in the double digits. Hopefully one day you’ll realise this was never an insult, instead it was maybe the greatest display of love they could give you. No one escapes the apocalypse, but they still tried to give you routes out of it. The corridors are all collapsed now though, and you grip your hockey stick tight in your blood-slicked grasp as you watch your aunt be pulled back together into one piece. 

April’s probably the one person in the resistance whose resolve has never shaken, but that’s not to say it can’t still be strengthened. When she wakes to see your bloodstained hoodie discarded by the cot she’s found herself on, she’ll of course panic for a second. Thankfully, someone will quickly fill her in, tell her that the blood is her own, and the unbelievable story of the little child who dragged her from the jaws of the hounds. She’ll believe it though, because for starters, you're a Jones, and a Jones can do anything, of course. You’re also a Hamato, and if there’s one thing Hamato can’t do, it’s leave family behind. This spells the start of your official tenure as a resistance fighter, because your age is something you’ll outgrow, but your fighting spirit is something you will not.

It might also have something to do with the fact that much of the resistance lay dead all around you, their blood still clinging to your skin, but what do we always say? Look on the bright side. Stars are still shining, buddy. Time to join your heroes in taking them back.

fourteen years old

You don’t even have to do anything this time. You’re off somewhere with your aunt, maybe training, maybe laughing, ideally both. 

The way you save the resistance this time looks something like this: sparks of molten magic, and a pull he’s never felt before. He can’t deny it, it does feel like hope, but hurts like hell as it starts to crackle up his arms. He’s swiftly stopped, not by his own will, but he’s grateful when the fire splitting him apart fizzles out. It’s very quiet in the aftermath, because they know what this means. It means it’s possible. It means it's going to cost everything. 

They decide that it would be worth it though, if it gave you a chance. There’s no one else they believe in more than you. It’s been said for years, as far back as the days where the only time you shed blood was when you mishandled sai that now just sit and collect dust; you’re gonna be the one to end this someday.

That day should be far off in the future though, when they’ve had time to give you the mission brief, hand over the supplies, and give you a tight hug, not goodbye but good luck. There isn’t really a point dwelling on it now. Mikey just smiles as he tugs the bandages tighter around his arms, and relishes in the fact that they finally have a plan B that might just work out this time. It helps to reignite the optimistic fire he was reluctant to tell anyone was starting to burn out. 

+1. sixteen years old

You’re only sixteen years old when you save the resistance for the last time. You’re so young. I think it might really be the end this time, kiddo. 

You don’t even flinch when I bleed on you, you just tell me that you’ve got me, just as I had you all those time you scraped your knee or bruised your elbow. Not to be arrogant, but you said it yourself - you learned from the best. Sorry. I know it’s not about me, but there’s very little left these days to focus on. Let’s keep the attention on you though, because you’re about to finally save the resistance once and for all. 

All that needs to be said is ‘hope’, and Mikey knows it’s time for plan B. There’s no time for anything we’d planned, no explanation, no hugs goodbye or good luck, but the belief in you never wavers. Not for a second. You’re Casey Jones-Hamato Junior, remember? There’s nothing you can’t do, except leave your family behind. I won’t say that out loud, because you’ll argue that you are in fact leaving me and Mikey behind. Technically, I’d argue you’re leaving us ahead, because soon we’ll be the future. Again, I won’t say that, because if my last words are going to be a joke, I at least want it to be a good one. What you’re doing, in actual fact, is giving us a second chance. I don’t doubt for a second that you’ll find us back there. Our sky may now be lost, but they’ll take you to the highest rooftop and show you every single shimmering constellation and you’ll finally know an Earth that firmly belongs to us. Oh buddy, you’re going to love it.

The last I see of you, you’re crying. It’s one of the first things I saw you do, and now it’s the last. That first time all those sixteen years ago, I think you only started crying because you knew it was finally safe to call attention to yourself as Casey held you in surprisingly gentle but strong arms. Now, I can’t kid myself, I know it’s because you’re scared, and I’m sorry. But hey, you know how I like to look on the bright side - at least the last you see of me, I’m smiling. 

I hope that’s the last you see, at least, I know it won’t be long as a hound throws itself at me. There’s only one thing on my mind now, and it’s that you really are gonna do it. You’re gonna be the one to end this today. 

I’m real proud of-

[molarbeardoc]

SPIVE ANGST FANFIC IN THE WORKS The masses on the Axosun discord server really want it and I’m such a nice person that I wrote it for them

They do not have a gun to me pointed under the table /ref /lyr

HAHA uhm

I’ll make some art for it later I guess. This is gonna be pretty sloppy since I haven’t actually written a story in like a whole ass year or two-

Enjoy eugh I feel so cringe writing this

Chained and Drowning

By meeee :3

They say dreams having meanings; that they send omens to the REM resting host, warning them of potential threats seeping from the shadows to strangle unsuspecting victims.

Others say it’s the opposite; that they exist to bring comfort to the dreamer after stressful days, or nights for our poor graveyard workers, and exhausting weeks.

The debate on the subject has been argued for many years, decades, maybe even centuries. Each person having their own theory on what they exist for, each differentiating from the other be it slightly or massively.

Not for Split though.

The banana beagle fruit-taur found dreams to be a mix of everything. An omen, a comforting gift, a story, a future teller without a crystal ball, a puddle of mud; anything and everything, even if it weren’t plausible nor made sense. After all, dreams rarely make sense themselves, so why should their interpretations? Surely they were equally as bananas right?

Split would never pay too hard attention to them, enjoying them while they lasted yet still being a bit disappointed when they ended.

She would sit to the sidelines of the obstacle course, the fluorescent lights low and dim as the bleachers were clear of spectators. It was Sunday, the game show never hosted during weekends to give the crew a chance to find anymore overly confident players who thought the course a cakewalk. Of course, they were left flabbergasted when realizing how difficult it truly was, which she always found to be hilarious.

Split would raise to her paws, glancing at the digital clock that sat on one of the walls.

4:26

"Still early.." She thought, her ears lowering slightly out of disappointment. Maybe she should get up and moving now? But she’d still have to wait for her to get up. Then again, she doesn’t remember even seeing her sleep before. No matter the time or day, she was always awake. They’ll definitely have to have a talk about that; maybe get help from DrRETRO as well! Surely the feline would offer some sort of medicinal… Medicine…? Medium..? Whatever the word was, advice to help with insoma… Insofar… Is that even a word? If it is, it’s a funny sounding one!

Insofar, sounds like solar- Ah! No no can’t get distracted. Gotta get up! Gotta get ready!

She’d stretch her upper and lower body before hurrying off to get dressed and ready. The usual shower and such weren’t an issue, unlike clothing. Banana sweater or the banana T-Shirt? It was pretty cool yesterday… But what if it were all sunny and bright and beautiful today? She’d end up getting all hot and tired. Then again she did hear something about it being cool again today. Oh well! Sweater it is!

After deciding on the most important aspect of her day, she was practically set! Breakfast wasn’t an issue considering the plans that were in place so all that was left was to head to the elevator…!

Yippe…

She never really liked the elevator. It always smelled dusty, lights would flicker at random, and then there was the chance of it showing up out of nowhere and tormenting you until you got to your floor; some of its taunts more deadly than the others…! But for now the reward was well worth the risk!

She stepped onto the elevator and pressed the very top button with a plus on it, picking the “Funny Maze” (which she never understood why it was called that, there weren’t any jokes, puns, or pranks within it) and slipping in a few coins into the slot. After the process was completed, she waited patiently as the elevators electronic music began playing while it ascended the floors with relative ease.

OKAY CHAT LEMME KNOW HOW YOU FEEL ABOUT THIS!!! YES IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE THIS SLOW AND LONG‼️‼️ I DONT HAVE AN AO3 ACCOUNT AND UNFORTUNATELY THEY SUPPORT ISNOTREAL SO I CAN’T MAKE ONE OR ELSE THEY GET MONEY 😔

Anyway I hope you enjoyed reading this it was very fun to write erm yea yes

[skibasyndrome]

hii lovely writer 💓

because of all those talking about this challenge in october and your writing in general i was just wondering (if you feel like answering):

is writing smut or explicit scenes personal for you? if yes, why? if not, why not?

looking forward to your future works 🥰

Hey there anon!

That's an interesting question and definitely not easy to answer tbh. For me there are different things that play into writing (or creating "art" only in quotes cause I'm weird about calling myself an artist of any kind I suppose), and one of them definitely is... hmmm... personal experience? If that's what you mean? I mean I love being a queer man, I love reading about queer men, I love writing about them as well, that's probably why I ended up writing fanfic in the first place? 😅

But more than that I just... idk... stumble upon some topic or something that I find inspiring and wanna explore further, then of course I also have the characters in mind and I like putting them in all kinds of different scenarios or situations and thinking about what they'd be like confronted with xyz, how they'd act, react, what they'd say or think. Personal experience is part of it, like when I tried to describe that beautiful summer day in my last fic, but it's never all there is for me. I think I especially love AUs because of the whole... what-if of it all, you know? I mean, what if Wilmon were criminals? It's obviously not something I have experience with nor is it like a desire of mine, but wouldn't it be neat to find out, you know? (tangent, but that is how I feel about literature in general. I love it because it allows us to explore all aspects of human existence no matter how far-fetched or grim or, conversely, how utopian it might be)

That was more general about... all fic 😅 But I guess while we're here: smut/explicit scenes are just something I gravitate towards when writing, I can't really explain it beyond the fact that I think smut is a GREAT way to explore characters psychologically. Which, I know this may sound paradoxical because sex is so physical obviously, but I just think that in those moments where you have two (or more, I suppose, but that hasn't happened in my fics yet) characters interacting so intimately there's soooo much room for exploration of their feelings, their worries, their fears, their joy, anything tbh. Like, I LOVE writing sex scenes that reveal something about the characters, or maybe where the characters learn something about themselves or each other. I don't think I always succeed and this sounds a lot deeper than it often is, but... yeah. Explicit scenes are excellent for getting deep into the psychological processes and for having them take a break from the "action" of every day life to just... feel and think and experience lots of things at once.

Tbh that's also one reason why I think kink in fic is soooo compelling lots of times - it's so interesting psychologically!!! I've always said that I could probably read close to anything if it's only like... well explained how exactly the characters got there and what is compelling them to do/like xyz. And that's what I hope to do with this challenge! Find a way to write the characters we know and love in situations that we maybe might not (or maybe we do?) expect them in and explore what could motivate them and what they might be feeling and thinking of during these moments. So in a way it's personal because I like to do these thought experiments and obviously we're all sort of... caged in by the borders of our own imagination if that makes sense? But also not that personal at all, because it's more like... thinking through the filter of a fictional character.

I don't know if any of that made sense 😭 but thank you so much for that interesting question and the love for my fics 💜

[dollsque]

Hi hi!

I read your fanfics and I’m in love!!

And when I realised that your requests are open?!! I was just jumping because I knew I had to request something

Could you please write Hobie brown x fem!guitarist!reader??

So basicalllyyy

Hobie is chilling in a pub just enjoying his time and bla bla, when a band starts to play on the stage

Usually, he wouldn’t mind, but that night??

He noticed that his band mates would look at the stage quite often, so he decided to look as well. And when he saw reader, just playing like it was breathing for her, he lost it!!!

He was just so shocked that R could make guitar look so easy, yet make it sound so majestic

Hobies band mates would snicker and laugh at his reaction

Then, after the performance, R decided to go and order a drink or smt. So she just casually goes over to the bar. Nothing special, right? WRONG!! Hobie is LOST! He can’t look away, he thinks that everything R does is just captivating.

And yeahhh

They have a conversation and it’s just super cute (maybe while R waits for her drink, the bartender tries to flirt with her and Hobie gets jealous?? You can leave that part out if you want to;) )

Yeahh

(Hobie is just a tongue-tied mess but R thinks it’s adorable and she kinda has Hobies’ normal attitude)

Yup!! Thank you in advance!!

Take care and please hydrate!! (I have a big issue with that lol)

-🎀 (can I claim this ribbon? So you just know that it’s me in the future)

So yeah!! Thank you a lot!!

💜 ➷ ₊• ☆ ˚˳ — 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐓𝐄𝐃 — ₊• ☆ ˚˳

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆!! sorry for taking so long! school is starting soon and i’ve been busy anxiously watching as the first day gets closer and making the most of the last couple weeks i have left!and you may claim the ribbon! i named the bandmates to make things easier if you don’t mind <3 thank you 🎀 anon!

➷ ₊• ☆ ˚˳ — 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k

➷ ₊• ☆ ˚˳ — 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hobie brown x !fem!guitarist!reader (fluff) ☆

➷ ₊• ☆ ˚˳ — 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: the fanart is by @/aspen.aspid! i just added the filter, lol. you can find her carrd in her tiktok bio. please check it out <3 will involve drinking and cursing (obviously, but y’know), no description of y/n, i’m not familiar with drinks so i will not be specifying what reader or hobie and his bandmates get LMAO, i gave the bandmates names from the comics.

➷ ₊• ☆ ˚˳ — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 <𝟑

➷ ₊• ☆ ˚˳ — HOBIE AND HIS BANDMATES enter the pub and the music is roaring throughout the place, the drums vibrating through their chest as they walk. There is purple and blue lighting, instantly setting the mood, there are large speakers, and the vibe is overall really cool so far.

This is the first time they’ve come to this bar. They were recommended this bar by a friend and they wanted to check it out. Sitting at the bar, they see a large display of a variety of drinks displayed, there is a menu for bar snacks, sandwiches, and desserts.

They like it so far and are chatting it up, talking about their upcoming songs, their instruments, how they’ve been doing, when next practices, and random, unhinged conversations that they don’t even know the cause of. They DO know, however, that it started with Hobie saying some wild shit.

Then, when they got the stuff they ordered, which were drinks and some sandwiches, the current topic came to a halt and they started looking back before continuing the conversation, then back again, and back to the conversation. Hobie hadn’t been paying much attention to the band, but now he was curious about what got them to keep the conversation going on and off. Looking behind him, he finally understands what they’re so captivated with.

How could they all not be captivated?

You are currently shredding the guitar like there’s no tomorrow, keeping up with the drums in perfect sync and accentuating the singer’s powerful vocals and the bassist’s support. To them, you are the highlight of the song that you and your band are currently playing.

The smoke acting like a stage effect covers some parts of you for a few seconds, but when the smoke finally parts fully to reveal your entire self, he finds himself more than captivated. The way your fingers dance at an incredible speed on the strings to switch notes and the way the guitar pick so confidently strummed the guitar, he finds himself questioning how the guitar pick is still in your hand. However, from guitarist to guitarist, he knows that you have an iron grip on that pick. He just can’t stop staring at you.

Your hair, your eyes, your clothes, just…everything.

“Holy shit, mate, she’s got you mesmerized doesn’t she?” One of his bandmates, Karl smirks, nudging him with his elbow as the others snicker next to him.

“Can’t take his eyes off her,” Riri snickers, taking a sip of her drink.

“Oh, come out of it. You guys are looking at her too!” Hobie points out in defense, finally looking away, though reluctantly.

“We stopped looking a while ago, mate. It’s been three minutes since we last looked. You were staring at her for the last minute of the last song and for two minutes of the current song that’s playin’.” Robbie told him. He gave him a playful flick on the side of his head, causing Hobie to scowl at him. “I think you’re the one that needs to come off it the most. You’re fucking LOST in her dude.”

“How long you guys think she’s been playing the guitar?” Mattea questioned, shifting the teasing off Hobie…for now.

“Hell, long enough to do all that. And here I thought there was no one better than me,” Hobie scoffed in awe.

“You thought wrong even BEFORE we saw her,” Robbie quipped, earning a loud laugh from Mattea and causing Riri to snicker as she tried drinking more of her drink, making it bubble.

“Oh, fuck off, you asshole.” Hobie scoffed, but there was a small smirk on his face. And just like that, they’re back to teasing poor (literally) Hobie.

He already finds himself lost in her again, but he’s interrupted much earlier this time. He doesn’t even know what the other members look like. Don’t get him wrong, your bandmates are just as incredible and powerful as you, but they are goddamn.

“Hey, Lover Boy, what are you gonna say when she comes over here for a drink?” Mattea asked.

“What?” Hobie questions a little too quickly. “I highly doubt she’ll come over for a drink. By the time they’re all done playing, the pub will be closed.”

“It just turned 8 PM, Hobs. I don’t think they’ll be playing for the next three hours.”

As if on cue: “THANK YOU ALL FOR LISTENING US PLAY OUR NEW SONGS!” Your band member proudly and gratefully yelled into the microphone, causing everyone in the pub to cheer. “We play here regularly, and ever since we first started, you guys have always been very supportive, so thank you. Have a great night!”

Regularly? Shit, this might be Hobie’s new regular pub, and no, his bandmates don’t get a say in it.

Wait.

“Hey, Lover Boy, what are you gonna say when she comes over here for a drink?” That question Mattea asked earlier was now invading his brain. He immediately starts thinking of things to say, but he suddenly feels his senses go off, and it’s NOT from danger.

He turns around to face where you’re supposedly standing nervously. “Oh, Hello,” he greeted politely, trying to keep a straight smile on. You were there in all your greatness, your electric guitar slug over your shoulder. Holy shit, Robbie’s right. He’s so fucking lost in you.

“Hi! Is anyone sitting next to you?”

Nothing.

“Hello?” You called out as his bandmates discreetly snickered.

“Oh, no, nobody’s sitting there. Shit, sorry,” he apologized, twirling his glass in a more fiddling matter.

You giggle at him and sit down on the stool next to him, not oblivious to his obvious nervousness and interest in you.

Hobie glanced back at his bandmates, and they only looked back with a slight smirk before conversing within themselves, leaving Hobie out of it.

Now he has to talk to you if he doesn’t want to look like some lonely loser. They’re smart for that; he can’t lie.

“So, you were very good up there. You play the electric guitar like there’s no fucking tomorrow. I like that. How long have you been playing? Many years, I reckon?” He asked, putting his glass down and resting his head in his hand.

You mirror his position. “Oh yeah, a hell ton of fucking years went to that, but thanks.” You smirked proudly. “How ‘bout you? You playin’ tonight?”

“Me? Oh, no. I just like to take it with me everywhere. It really adds to my outfit, y’know?” He answered with a smile, though it looked absolutely lovesick. “My friends over there, we uh, play here and there at a different pub not too far from here.”

“Really? I might have to check it out then. Maybe just for you,” you answered with that captivating smile Hobie loves so much.

He’s so lost. He cleared his throat. “I can’t wait to see you there and I can show you my playing, and stuff. My band’s great too, y’know, but uh—”

“I’m sure they are, but I’m still going there to hear you play if I won’t make you nervous and mess you up.”

Damn, she’s good at this. Hobie laughs and turns to drink a bit from his glass in a pathetic way to hide his face and that lovesick smile he had on his face. So damn lovesick. He doesn’t even know your name yet. Hell, he’s barely seen you for an hour. But damn it if an hour isn’t enough to fall in love with you.

“Hey, pretty girl,” the bartender greeted you with a wink, causing Hobie’s lovesick face to transition into a judgemental look. Pretty girl? “Anything I can get you today?”

“Can I get that drink over there and the ground beef sub?” You asked, pointing to that specific drink you want.

“Of course, anything for you. Hey, seriously, I meant it when I called you pretty,” the bartender smiled as he started making her sub.

“Yeah, she’s bloody gorgeous,” Hobie agreed, mainly out of spite. He still agreed, though. You were bloody gorgeous. “The most gorgeous girl here.”

That gave you butterflies. It’s like he flipped a switch; as if that small nickname the bartender gave you immediately caused him to go into defense mode.

Jealousy mode.

“Why thank you, you guys, but I like it coming from him more.” You smirk at the bartender, nodding your head towards Hobie, who now switches back to his initial consciousness. “I’m with him tonight.”

“Maybe you should make that more…nights? If you want to of course, but, y’know, just tonight? Really? I mean, are you sure you don’t want more? I mean, I would want to make it more than just tonight.”

He’s so adorable. Awkward too, but that just makes him more adorable. The bartender sighs disappointedly but raises his hands in both acceptance of defeat and a little bit of respect.

“We’ll definitely make it so it’s not just for tonight. You should come here tomorrow with your band. I’ll be looking forward to you,” you wink slyly.

“Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah, definitely. We’ll be here. Right, um, what’s your name? Mine’s Hobie. Hobie Brown,” he greeted, awkwardly holding a hand out for you to shake.

You giggled at the gesture and shook his hand. “Y/N, nice to meet you. And you have a cute name? I like that.”

“Oh! Thank you! You have a very nice name too. I’ll remember it for when I come to see you tomorrow.” He smiled. Oh, if only she knew that his name was actually Hobart.

Thanks, Mom. He almost rolls his eyes at the thought. He can already hear his bandmates snickering even more than before, and he has half a mind to tell them to shut the fuck up.

“So, if we’re gonna be hanging out more than just tonight, we should have each other’s number, yeah? I’ll even tell you the next time our band plays at the other pub. Address and everything, of course. Maybe a backstage pass included for a little private meet and greet where we can really get to know each other,” Hobie smirked. The smoothest thing he’s said all night. There’s his confidence coming back. Slowly, but surely.

Now that you didn’t expect. You let out a chuckle and take a sip of your drink. “What happened to the adorable, tongue-tied boy I was just talking to?”

“We all gotta start somewhere,” he smirked, now drinking the rest of his drink that was left in his glass. “So, tomorrow?”

“Leaving so soon?”

“You want me to stay?”

“I need you to stay. Who else will keep me company?”

“Shit, we still got two hours and fifty minutes,” he smirked.

“Hm. Still need that number though,” you teased, poking his shoulder playfully. You internally squeal when he starts writing down his number on a small piece of paper. Hobie internally celebrates as he writes his number.

He slides the paper towards you, and you gladly pocket it.

“And yes, tomorrow. It’s a date,” you smile. Your heart flutters from the contact your knees make from facing each other on the stools. He doesn’t pull his leg away, and neither do you. You two like it that way.

It’s only the beginning of your night.

➷ ₊• ☆ ˚˳ — “WHAT I WOULD GIVE for someone to look at me the way Hobie looks at that girl.”

Riri sighs, stirring her drink with her straw as she glances at the two of them.

“Right? The fucker’s in love. Hell, he looks ready to propose right there and there.” Karl scoffed lightheartedly.

“Woah, slow down there. They’ve barely been talking for ten minutes,” Robbie snickered.

“Enough with the snickering!” They heard from their electric guitarist. It seemed as if you had gone to use the bathroom because your bandmates were still there. They didn’t seem oblivious to the fact that she was talking to Hobie, either.

“Our bad, our bad,” Matteas apologized. “…backstage pass, huh?”

“Shut up!” He yelled, slapping her with one of the pub’s newspapers while it was still rolled up. His bandmates all just snickered more.

What a pain in the ass. Yet, he couldn't help but smile proudly at himself.

© 2024 dollsque - all rights reserved; do not copy my works, repost my content, edit my works, or translate my works on tumblr or anywhere else. it is strictly forbidden. oh, and no AI shit with my works, please.

[i-left-my-room-tidy]

+also can you recommend techniques or kekkei genkai i’d really appreciate it

[thanks for this ask!]

I'm assuming you're the same person who asked about the OP thing as well lmao. I'd be happy to recommend some stuff!

my own kekkei genkai in my Naruto DR are really just the sharingan and shikotsumyaku, as my father was an uchiha and my mother was a kaguya. i just looked at a list of all the canon abilities and shot for the strongest, most coveted ones.

but! if you need some ideas for a kekkei genkai of your own, here are some of the ones I've come up with, in the past!

[lmao btw i wrote this list like almost two years ago don't come for me if it sounds silly, and my apologies if it's a bit short]

≿❈≾

(1) TIME-BASED ABILITIES

i always thought it'd be interesting if there was something that allowed users to manipulate space and time, exactly like how tobirama and minato were able to utilise a space-time jutsu. why not be able to do both separately? maybe you could have an ability where you could see rifts in time, allowing you to glimpse past or future events; which is especially useful for intel and sabotage.

on that note, the inspiration for this was the sharingan's izanagi, izanami, and kamui abilities.

- - -

(2) LUMINOKINESIS

i was rewatching Arcane when this came to me. i remembered one of LoL's cinematics for Wild Rift (the one with the teams on the battlefield), and thought of Lux. then i thought of Iridessa, one of the Disney fairies, and that one Tinker Bell movie where they all accidentally switched powers. and then i thought, wouldn't light manipulation be such an OP ability?

something like prismatic refraction could allow you to create illusions, project blinding beams, or even bend light to make yourself invisible. it's ideal for stealth. but at the same time, you could even use it offensively—similar to how Superman shoots fuckin' laser beams out of his eyes, or how Usagi (Sailor Venus) creates said beams of light to attack enemies.

- - -

(3) AVATAR-INSPIRED ABILITIES

i cannot stress this one enough!!! take literally any power you could from Avatar: the Last Airbender or Avatar: the Legend of Korra—and amp it up to the max! all of my abilities in my Naruto DR have been based mostly on these two shows, with the occasional inspiration from other fandoms of course, but really these two. the elemental manipulation, along with the 'specialisations' are not only fucking cool to use—they're also incredibly useful in mundane situations (in the DR, at least). I'm pretty sure I've made posts about those shenanigans in the past lmfao.

at that, consider these, if ever: metallokinesis, plasma manipulation, astral projection, geokinesis, and atmokinesis.

- - -

(4) INSPIRATION FROM OTHER FANDOMS

the ones I've listed above are honestly just my own favourite abilities, and the ones that quickly came to mind as i was writing this. but those are just a portion of the vast majority that you could find from other sources! there are countless more to consider, abilities that might not necessarily be included in the world of Naruto itself but still something very much to consider. who doesn't love a good crossover? i know i do. hell, I've even used some of my own Naruto DR abilities in my HP/GoT DR.

i really recommend parsing through other cartoons, comics, movies, and et cetera. and if not that, then at least check their wiki pages. Fandom is always your friend. sometimes, when i browse through fanfics on FFNet or AO3, i see things that i like (powers that a character has, for example, or situations that they land themselves into)—things that stick with me, which i note down for future reference. and when the time comes, i could use it for my own experiences.

≿❈≾

much love, and happy shifting ❤️❤️❤️

[bluedalahorse]

Here’s a random Young Royals ask:

What career do you think Sara will have in the future? Or what do you think her dream job would be?

I hope your day is lovely and amazing!!

Thank you! I hope your day is lovely and amazing too.

This is a great ask, and one where you might get more than you asked for. In part because I’ve thought about it a lot. I have not only a dream job in mind for Sara, but also some nightmare jobs as well. (Don’t worry, it’s all related to fanfic plots living in my head, and I promise they end in a good place.)

Is it okay if I start with Sara’s nightmare job? This one sort of popped into my head as I was envisioning what a Second Chance Romance could look like between Sara and August, maybe a decade after canon where August has done a lot of work and made various restitutions to Simon and gotten much more of his shit together.

As for that story… I thought it might be interesting, as far as like, what generates a plot and character arc, to put Sara at a job that’s taking advantage of her compassion and desire for justice. In my experience it’s pretty common for younger people to end up in situations like that in their first jobs, and I think it’d be interesting if Sara was in a place where she won’t deal with that in a romantic partner anymore, but she hasn’t learned to recognize it in a work situation yet. (This is pretty common in growing up—you tackle one issue in one part of one’s life and it sneakily migrates to another part.) So she’s working this nightmare job for an autism charity I’ve sneakily called PuzzleChildren (it’s a reference, shout if you get it!) which is trying to rehabilitate its image after news breaks that they haven’t really hired any actually autistic people. Sara’s hired by them, and they sound sincere at first so she’s trying her best to make things work with her coworkers and bosses, but over time she just kind of realizes that this place is shit and has no intention of changing. And then she moves into a line of work that’s much more fulfilling for her.

And what might that be? Well, I’m still deciding, but there’s a few career paths where I can see Sara being particularly happy:

Some sort of career in Environmental or Disability Justice. I’m not exactly sure why. It’s just vibes. I do think Sara is a person who cares deeply about people and causes, and both of those are areas where I can see her learning more at university and just finding a place that makes sense for her.

Helping people, especially other neurodivergent people, using some kind of animal therapy. Doesn’t have to be horses! Or maybe Sara will train service dogs or something. It’s possible Sara’s affinity for horses could translate over to other animals, and she could find a career path in that general direction.

Graphic novelist or picture book writer. We see Sara drawing in one scene in season 1, and for that reason, she’s always been someone who likes to draw in my head. We also know she’s a keen observer of human behavior and could have some interesting insights if she ever decided to write a story. I can see her doing memoir graphic novels with a similar tone to like, stuff by Marjane Satrapi or Maggie Thrash. Of course if the monarchy’s still around they might want to sue her for her honesty. But they shouldn’t.

What do you think? I can see lots of possibilities for Sara in the future!

[woodswallow]

damn, you caught me! i'm prettyyyy sure that was my comment under that one fanfic — the review was written in german, right? :D

and i'm with you on that!

in the past i've often gotten weird reactions when being passionate about things i liked, on top of being incredibly insecure. so i thought, i'd rather stick to observing and enjoying without participating. i was too shy even for fandom spaces! i kept that up for a long time, but recently i've realized that a fandom is only what you make of it, so i wanted to step out of my comfort zone for that :-)

i think that sentence in my review has probably come across as diminishing towards other fics and their authors. i'm sorry about that, that really wasn't my intention! it's just that i took the step with this particular story and used that fact to emphasize my appreciation. i aim to leave feedback on more fanfictions in the future and being increasingly braver in that regard

i feel kinda bad that i didn't take part sooner, but starting late is better than never and you can too, fellow lurkers! :)

(Anon is referring to this post)

Dear anon (or maybe only half-anon to me ^^),

your message really warmed my heart!

Yes, chances are pretty high that I was talking about you comment, it was indeed in german :) I knew it wouldn't be totally unrealistic that you would see my tumblr post, but I also didn't really reckon that...

Your reasons sound totally valid to me! And damn, I'm so sorry that you got weird reactions for being passionate about something, even more when you're already insecure and introverted, I totally get that. You decided to open up about a thing you liked, made yourself vulnerable - having people making fun of your or maybe calling you a weirdo or whatever happened is just so hurtful.

I'm so happy you got the courage to step out of your comfort zone and participate more, because yes - shared happyness is doubleing the happiness! :) I was one centimetre away from commenting on your comment, because damn - it was SO incredible! So thoughtful and perfectly on point and I thought that comments like these are worth so, so much! I nodded all the time while reading it.

And yes, I have to admit, I was feeling a little pain while reading it because yes, that particular fic is mindblowing - but there are so many other which are as well :) But once again, I totally get it - this was that one story that got you to move out of your comfort zone - it has to start with one, right? Better late than never, absolutely :)

I'm an introvert myself, clearly, so I absolutely can relate, as I said. But I feel that posting a story is an even bigger step than commenting. Posting a story you've written let's people look inside your heart and mind (at least it's like that with my storys, so I'm talking about myself now..). Readers instantly know, what I like, what I find hot, what I want to emphasize, if I have a connection to something or not, what my humor is like, even what my kinks are. So I think an author clearly put him/herself out there when posting a story.

I personally don't necessarily need comments to finish a story, because I always finish it before posting, and I enjoy writing very much.

But the greatest gift to an author, and what also keeps my motivation up is (in MY opinion) finding people who are likeminded. Who pick up certain sentences the author already giggled about while writing and say "hey, that sentence was so funny!". Who tell you you nailed it. Who suffered with your characters just like you as an author did. I had people telling me they cried over my fics, that it send a tingle down their groin - or that they are rereading them! All of this creates so much more joy for both author and reader than just writing and reading it silently :) It's so great to think "oh my god, I'm so curious what XY will think about this!" or "I bet XY will like this, it's so up his/her alley!" :D

So: Thank you anon! Thank you for posting that one long beautiful comment. Thank you for coming out of your shell and daring to be passionate together with others. Thank you for coming back at me and writing this message <3

Enjoy the many fantastic storys from all these incredibly talented authors out there :)

Yours, Woodswallow/Zugvogel (on AO3 and fanfiction.de)