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brit-bat · 10 years

Note

"This wasn't your best idea." and "I wish I could." Any pairing that grabs your fancy

Here you go:

This wasn’t your best idea, Llewellyn tells himself as the wind up whips his hair and clothing. The clouds have made the sheer walls of the adoption building duller and blackened the windows to eerie pits, like the eyeholes of a skull.

Llewellyn backs away from the steps, scrunching his eyes closed to guard against the cold. He bumps into Dylan who is too busy looking at the massive grey structure to complain. His eyes are pinched at their corners and his brows are drawn close, forming small furrows in his brow.

"It's a scary enough place close up." Dylan's smile is weak and forced. "I'm sort of glad they built a new one.” He pauses, the sound of his breath nearly covered by the wind, yet somehow slinking below it and catching in Llewellyn’s ears. “You don’t have to do this, you know. We can head back to the hall and drink some tea instead.”

“I need to. I was practically born here.” Llewellyn pushes against Dylans doubt, placing a foot up onto the first step. “I can’t live my whole life afraid of the past.”

Dylan nods and waits until Llewellyn has managed to unlock on the door and push it open.

The hinges are rusted tight and the wood is starting to spliter, as though the building is defending itself. It’s inards masked by a murk that smells of damp and moss even from where Llewellyn stands at the doorjam.

He remembers how he used to have to kick off his shoes when he entered, and how cold the stone was on his feet. Instinct forces him to repeat the past, the chill of the stones almost burning at his soles.

“You’re going to get cold feet.”

“I’m not scared Dylan!” He lies, turning his irritation on Dylan, making him hiss like a cobra and almost lunge forward.

“I meant your toes.” Dylan points at Llewellyn’s exposed feet and clears his throat as he forces a smile that wavers and doesn’t quite take to his face. “Your shoes. You took them off.”

“I’ll get in trouble if I don’t,” Llewellyn realises too late how silly that sounds and attempts to swallow his embarrassment. “We used to have to leave our shoes here. It made it easy to tell when somebody was missing. There’d be a pair of shoes gone.”

“That sounds…” Dylan looks perplexed and instead looks around him. “It’s a bit grim. I can’t imagine anyone living here. Let alone children.” His words almost seem to ache with guilt or shame. His eyes drifting across the barren entrance and the long broken wooden cradle, it’s collapsed sections where coats and shoes were stored, now only a place for cobwebs and mildew.

“It was nicer when it was in use.” Llewellyn shrugs and grasps hard at his coat sleeves. Drawing everything tight in an effort to hold his nerves steady. “They used to light a large fire in the kitchen that warmed the whole building.”

Llewellyn takes a hold of Dylans hand and leads him carefully into the old mess room, a number of large stone blocks sitting in tight knit rows. Lit only by the two small windows now that the lanturns are gone. Only their rackets remain, rusted to nothing at best, missing entirely at worst.

“What are these big bits of stone for?” Dylan pokes one idly with his foot.

“They’re benches. There used to be tables in-between.” Llewellyn squeezes on Dylan’s hand as he recalls how he and his brothers would sit at their table, eating meals, talking, mending their clothes and taking their weekly lessons in the evening. “When it was first made they suspected troublesome children might throw normal stools or benches so they just set them into the floor. Silly really.”

“Looks like it’d be a bit cold on the arse.”

“It was. Mr Finch and his wife used to sit on proper seats with cushions. It always seemed so nice.” Llewellyn releases Dylan’s hand and slips over to the block at the far corner. “My brothers and I used to sit here every night. I’d sit in the corner and Richard would sit beside me. Niall and Angus would sit opposite and fight and wrestle and Angus would cuff me when I cried or moaned.”

“Sounds just like me and my siblings.” Dylan’s beams, his teeth flashing for a second like the sun peeking from behind a cloud. “Back when Ma and Da were alive. I suppose every family has some things in common.”

Llewellyn nods and studies the deep shadows and dirty windows. The way a small drip of water has formed a deep puddle in the far corner by the window. Ripples that hypnotise him, turning to waves, which soak his mind till it’s sopping.

Eventually Dylan sits beside him and pats his hand, saying nothing. Leaving only warmth and reminding Llewellyn that he;s no longer a child. “It seems much smaller now I’m all grown up.” He clutches gently at Dylan’s fingers and find his way back to the present. “Back then it seemed like it would be huge and dominating forever.”

“I think we all feel that way when we’re little. Like the world is so big that we’ll never find a way to fill ourselves up enough to live in it. But we do. Somehow.”

Llewellyn nods and scoots a little closer. “Yes, I think you’re right.”

There are rooms Llewellyn had never went into as a child, because he was not allowed. He can’t quite bring himself to go into the kitchen or offices, nor into the food store or treasury. A quick glance at the medical bay is all he needs to recall the times where he got doses of fever and fisherman’s lung. The nights spent unable to breath, coughing enough to keep his brothers awake and leave them irritated.

With that memory he chooses to retreat up the stairs, though Dylan voices some worries over the condition of the stairs, which are rotting and thin. A rat runs into a hole as Llewellyn ascends. A variety of mosses and weeds have taken root around the broken window of the corridor. The wind singing a sad song as it blows through the empty network of doors and rafters. Doors are off their hinges in places. Old bits of fabric and wood are strewn around amidst bottles and discarded bits of firewood and tinder that betrays the presence of local drunks and dragonweed smokers who likely take shelter inside the halls walls.

When Llewellyn realises he’s been staring at the empty space where his rooms door had once been he’s unsure how long he’s been standing staring. All he knows is that Dylan is waiting patiently, sometimes wandering into a room or examining something he’s found on the floor. Yet he never interrupts or complains. Simply waits.

“This is where I grew up.” Llewellyn says when Dylan is close enough to hear. “You can hear the river. Watch the sunset. It was the most beautiful purple colour. Like Gallian silk.”

“Do you want a cloth?” Dylan asks, his hand stroking at Llewellyn’s arm with long movements.

Llewellyn feels how the tears slide down his face and shakes his head. “I’m fine.” He bows his head, hiding his shame and hoping Dylan won’t be angry at him. “I cry far too often over things that matter so little.”

Dylan chuckles and swipes Llewellyn’s cheek with the fabric of his sleeve. “Sometimes I cry for no reason at all. It’s okay.”

“My master used to tell me that crying was a weakness of spirit.”

“You’d be weaker if you didn’t cry.” Dylan’s fingertips rest on Llewellyn’s cheeks and slide down to his jaw carefully. “That’s how so many people make themselves sick. Holding it all in isn’t healthy.”

Llewellyn touches Dylan’s hand and enjoys the warmth of Dylan’s palm. “I feel a little less sick inside being with you.” Llewellyn sighs as Dylan retracts his fingers. “Like I’m not so weak as I was.”

“I don’t think you were weak. You’re stronger than most people I know.”

Llewellyn smiles and pushes his hair out of his face.

When he goes into the room it’s almost as he recalls it. The timbles from the bunks are still there, though one has fallen from it’s pins and the other is weak with damp and looks ready to fall apart. The struts are peeling and nobbled with age, ribs of something long dead.

“I used to sleep on the top bunk,” Llewellyn saysm touching the bedframe. “And Richard used to have the other top bunk. Niall slept below me.” Llewellyn lowers himself and looks at the gaping hole where his brother used to be. There’s nothing except woodworm and rat droppings anymore.

He moves towards the window and flicks open the lock, pushing it open with a hoarse cough from the hinges. “And every night he’d open this window and let the cool air come in. And I’d lie and watch the sky change colour with him and my little plush bear.” Llewellyn leans on the window frame and watches the river drift past. “And I’d imagine all the things I wanted to be when I was all grown up and far away from here. Yet here I am. Still peering out the window at some clouds.”

“It must be difficult. Seeing all this again. In such disrepair.”

“That’s the strange thing. It feels like nothing has changed.” Llewellyn can smell the river and the freshness of the rain as it hits the leaves of plants and grasses. “Even when this building has collapsed into nothing it will still be erect and whole in my mind. When I was learning to become the Bard I was taught how to hold onto memories. I feel like I could live inside my own head.”

Dylan nods, though his expression speaks more of puzzlement than any other emotion.

“But there are better places to be than in the past staring at a dead sky.” Llewellyn closes his eyes and nestles against Dylan’s side. “Like right here, beside you. Looking at the present and understanding why it’s important to keep the past where it belongs.”

“You’re speaking like a true bard, Llewellyn.”

Llewellyn desire to speak wears itself out, and he eventually takes a breath to ask; “Will you sing me that shanty again?” He feels at peace, like Dylan’s rendition of the song has filled some hole in his spirit. “If you don’t mind.”

“Gladly.” Dylan clears his throat and begins to sing. His voice makes even the barren fog of foul weather seem romantic and wonderful.

Llewellyn sticks his hand out the window, feeling the cold sting of rain and feeling alive and truly happy, even as the longing pain of his old life burns the back of his throat. Pulling him in two different directions.

Like the opposite ends of a ripple as it expands.

“It feels like we’ve been standing here together for eternity.” Dylan mutters when he’s finished the song.

Llewellyn nods and smiles as he leans thankfully into Dylans waem side. “I wish I could.”

#fic bit #losthitsu

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brit-bat · 10 years

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I really like this, though I'm tempted to do some critiques because I noticed things.

But only if you want and it's small things.

I really love to, so familiar and real to life.

SCOTTISH BUSES UGH.

Northern Ireland experiences the joy that is bus travel

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brit-bat · 10 years

Text

Random idea. Send me sets of sentences, two sentences per set. /as many sets as you like!/

First sentence for the opening of the fic, second for the very last.

request characters and couples also if you like. Trying new approaches to freshen writing up for myself.

#I am asking Hitsu and Meep because nobody else is likely to really send me anything. <3;;#if you send me something I love you much thanks.

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brit-bat · 10 years

Text

Here have some more.

Blair doesn't speak as she wraps the bandage curtly around Niall's foot. She's mumbling and sighing. Occasionally she'll look up and furrow her brows pointedly.

"You break everything you touch." She says eventually.

"Not everything." Niall smiles at her meekly and shrugs. "I touch you and the dogs all the time and you're all still alive."

"Now you've said that we're all fucked." Blair sits back and wraps her arms around her legs. "I need to finish getting dressed." She winces and clutches her stomach as she rises.

"It's Saturday." Niall struggles to his feet and lifts the broken remains of the teapot, getting to work mopping.

"I need to go to the shops for something." Blair stares long and hard at the sweep go the mop. "You think you could do that with a little less vigour, it's still moving."

Luckily, Wee Bastard the scottish terrier shows up at that point and begins lapping up the tea.

"Why don't I go to the shops and you head back to bed." Niall puts the mop away and coaxes Blair into a hug that she buries herself in without complaint.

"If you do I'll never get my pads."

"Aye, but if you go and I stay then you'll make remarks for the next week about the fact I didn't do it." Niall kisses her hair and rubs her back. "And by remarks I mean turn into a prehistoric, red haired beast and bite my face off."

"My tummy is sore." Blair sobs. "And you broke my toaster and my teapot and now the dog is caffeinated."

Niall pulls off his dressing gown and wraps it around her. "Go back to bed. I'll throw on some clothes and be back soon."

"Can I watch you while you're naked?" Blair smiles and pokes his chest with a well aimed finger. "I could use a laugh."

Niall feigns a hurt expression. "I'm not going to BE naked. I'm throwing on my jeans and shoes and going out in this t-shirt." He throws his arms out to show off his favourite shamrock themed attire, including the boxers Blair gave him.

"Will you get naked for me when you come back?"

"Will it make you happy?"

"No."

"Then there's nothing I want to do more than to strip off and feed you chocolate." He turns her towards the door and pats her arse. "Now go."

Blair huffs and toddles away, inviting the dogs to come and join her.

Here have a short Blair/Niall drabble type ficcu.

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brit-bat · 10 years

Text

Here have a short Blair/Niall drabble type ficcu.

Niall has the slice of bread placed in the toaster, finger prepped to shove it down so he can have a nice bit of tea and toast as he checks the weather.

He waits, hearing nothing.

His finger moves, followed quickly by a muffled shout of, "Niall, you better not be using my kitchen!"

He winces and clears his throat, "No, my angel!" he says, easing the toasters lever down with a gentleness normally reserved for a mother elephant caressing her infant. "I was just pouring you some tea from the pot."

"Good." Blair marches into the bathroom and shouts at her hair. "Have you fed the dogs yet?"

"You said I wasn't to touch anything. Not even a can."

The dogs however don't appreciate Niall's status as the cookery leper and stare at him accusingly from their shared basket.

Blair stays silent, hinting at a correct answer.

Niall has only reached the fridge to hunt out the butter when a loud pop sends the dogs running up the stairs, and the kitchen fills with smoke.

"Oh for fuck sake."

"NIALL!" The floor gets a hard stomp from a foot. "What have you done?"

"Nothing," Niall wafts the smoke out the door the best he can, coughing and spluttering. "There's nothing to worry about."

The fire alarm goes off and in his surprise Niall jerks his hand, sending the teapot spinning to the floor in slow motion, then it breaks, spewing forth a molten hot volcano of liquid.

His feet are not only scalded but Blair appears at that moment, finding him on his arse, surrounded by smoke and steam. She unplugs the toaster and glares at him. "This is a new low even for you."

"I just wanted some toast." Niall sighs and flops to the floor. "I wasn't even going to put jam on it, just some butter."

"I'm not sure Mother Nature wants you to survive. Like you're an evolutionary mistake." Blair frowns and lifts her teapot. "Come on, get up and help me clean this."

"I can't." Niall struggles to sit and starts studying his foot. "It really bloody hurts."

Blair seems tempted to give his foot a hard kick, but stops short and leans down to look. "Shit, look at the mess you've made of yourself." She rolls her eyes and heads off to find her medicine kit.

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brit-bat · 10 years

Text

SEND ME A SHIP AND I'LL TELL YOU [nsfw version]

Who is louder?

Who is more experimental?

Who takes more risks?

Do they fuck or make love?

Lights on or off?

Who is more likely to be caught masturbating?

Who is more likely to suggest a threesome?

Has either stolen the other’s underwear?

Who comes first?

Who is better at oral and who prefers it?

Who is more submissive?

Who usually initiates things?

Who is more sensitive?

Who has the most patience?

Which kinks do they share?

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brit-bat · 10 years

Note

Oh I must have missed this, here: G, K, R, S, T

First OTP was Samantha and Ikki from Medabots. ;U;//

I feel like the Hetalia fandom is always one to feel a little cynical about because I've seen some dross. But the people I know personally are a good bunch. I'm very disconnected from fantoms in general so I can't really say.

I don't believe I have any ships that are unique. I single handedly spread Wales/Wales like wildfire and Wales/Turkey is my secret pleasure. But I'm certain there are others who've had the thought before me.

Personal headcanon: The nations are actually zombies, the spirit of the nation that took over a dead countryman and resides there for safety. If that body gets killed then they just find another corpse and move in. /actually just a random idea and not a head canon/

Heto ships include: England/Portugal (Don't like the M/M version as I just can't see it.../) Scot/Fran in either gender configuration, Wales/Wales is cute as boy/girl, Northern Ireland/Slovakia, Ireland/Brazil, and any ship that I like in m/m can usually work just fine as m/f or f/f

#losthitsu

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brit-bat · 10 years

Note

Okay so I'll pick letters at random and go with A-B-L-O-P-S-Z

Current OTP / Dylan/Llewellyn, Niall/Blair and Angus/Alaina.

A pairing I didn't really like at first: Wales/Romano. But I quickly saw that it would work and love it now.

Fave fan author gives me a request: Dyfed/Alt Clut. They are sweet babies!

The rock harmony - Mashupgermany: Angus/Alaina - Deva V.

Random AU: Doctor waiting room AU. All the characters just meet in the waiting room over a few months and all the relationships that form from that. How boring.

Personal Headcanon: Mama celt is currently a rabbit and follows England around to keep an eye on him.

Ramble: …….

….

IT MUST SUCK TO BE A FEMALE NATION. AN IMMORTAL LIFE OF HAVINH PERIODS. FUCK THAT. I'D HAVE MY IMMORTAL UTERUS CUT OUT OR SOMETHING.

#themagicmeep

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brit-bat · 10 years

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A - Your current OTP

B - A pairing you initially didn’t consider but someone changed your mind

C - A pairing you have never liked and probably never will

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t

E - Have you added anything stupid/cracky/hilarious to your fandom, if so, what

F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom

G - Do you remember your first OTP, if so who was in it

H - Do you prefer characters from real action series or anime series

I - Has tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why

J - Name a fandom you didn’t care/think about until you saw it all over tumblr

K - How do you feel about the other people in your current fandom

L - Your favorite fanartist/author gives you one request, what do you ask for

M - Your favorite fanart or fanartist

N - Your favorite fanfiction or fanauthor

O - Choose a song at random, which OTP does it remind you of

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas)

Q - A ship you’ve abandoned and why

R - A pairing you ship that you don’t think anyone else ships

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon

T - If you mostly have homoships, do you have any heteroships

U - If you mostly have heteroships, do you have any homoships

V - Are you one of those fans who can’t watch anything without shipping

W - 5 favorite characters from 5 different fandoms

X - 3 OTPs from 3 different fandoms

Y - A fandom you’re in but have no ships from

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go

Oh please.

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brit-bat · 10 years

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Can I see some cute Niall/Blair headcanons? Pretty please?

Aye, no problem!

For her Birthday Niall bought Blair a little chain with a horse charm on it. He's keeping the matching ring as her engagement ring for if they ever discuss settling down.

Blair tried to take Niall ice skating, but he kept falling on his arse. She took hundreds of pictures and shows them off with no provocation.

Blair hits Arthur for referring to Niall as 'that untrustworthy Irish bastard.' not because she disagrees but because only she;s allowed to say it.

Blair and Nialls first baby is an Irish wolfhound. They later adopted a little Scottish terrier. They were named Ivan and Wee Bastard.

Their first real holiday was spent at a secluded farm cottage. They hung out with the horses, shagged and generally indulged in a very rural lifestyle.

Blair can lift Niall very easily, which is useful when he;s being slow, lazy or just awkward.

They can communicate in morse code and insult their families in this manner.

Niall makes all Blairs celebration cards by hand. He draws either really really nice things or really really rude things. There is no in-between.

They met in University. Blair was in her first year while Niall was in his last. He studied art Blair has no idea what she's studying, but is apparently doing okay at it.

There are always potatoes. Even when they've all been used up. New ones will appear by the next morning. They both deny involvement.

Blair doesn't trust Niall around children. Not because he's bad to them but because he fobs off food he does;t want to eat to them.

Niall once tried to cook a nice meal for Blair coming home, but his hands got stuck in the pizza dough and made a massive mess. This is why he's no longer allowed to cook.

Blair and Niall both find it funny to hide condoms in silly places and see how people react when they find them. Whoever gets the biggest reaction wins.

They once wore each others clothes for fun. They enjoyed it.

While they agreed to have an open relationship they have never actually bothered finding other people.

For Christmas Blair got Niall an iPod just to watch him try and work it. He doesn't own a computer. Blair never explained why this is a problem as he never read the instructions.

They collect my little pony toys and various other horse related tat.

They only eat cafe noir biscuits when they are together as they each got the impression the other person liked them. They don't like them at all but keep the lies going to avoid biscuit related arguments.

Blair sponsors a Giraffe at the local zoo. She named it Niall.

They've been taken to the police station together seven times. six of those times they were blind drunk. The other time they refuse to explain to family.

Niall once put soup in the microwave and it exploded. Blair hasn't noticed that her old microwave has been replaced.

They discuss how they'd murder each other and hide the body. In detail. While people are around.

They own a goldfish named Fishy.

Blair likes Smarties best. Nialls prefers M&M's. This causes arguments at the cinema.

Niall apologises by quietly passing Blair Irn Bru.

Blair has learned to tell the difference between Niall talking to her and him just talking to himself. It drives everyone but her up the wall.

They've only been dressed up in nice clothing twice while they've been together. A valentines dinner and a wedding.

Friday night is strip poker night.

#themagicmeep

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brit-bat · 10 years

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This is legit one of my have pairings and one of my have fics. I have no idea why they just work. <3 <3

Blair/Niall for Clay

#thank you so so much my night is made

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brit-bat · 10 years

Text

Niall/Blair. Because I wanted to. -For Meepster.-

“Are you still awake?” Blair asks after she’s stood bleary eyed at the doorway for a moment, her eyes glazed as she watched the television. “It’s one o’clock in the morning.”

“Aye, watching a film.” Niall shifts his arse around and hugs his arms a little more tightly. “Is it too loud?”

Blair steps into the middle of the room; her dressing gown is illuminated by the white blue of the screen. The small pink and blue unicorns on her nightie are just visible. “No, I just noticed you weren’t in bed.”

“You missed me?”

“Fuck no. Your arse is bony-“

“Bonny you mean.” Niall corrects.

“No,” Blair flops down beside him and curls up close to his side, “and your sex is terrible.”

“And that’s why you came down here, I assume. To let me know how terrible I am in bed.”

“Your dick is small.” She nuzzles close and sighs. “But I still missed you.”

Niall chews on his words a few times before curling his arm around her shoulder and nestling a little closer. “I’m sorry.” He kisses her forehead, pushing stray red hair out of her face and admiring her pretty eyes, which are softly ringed with tiredness. It forms like a soft bruise and draws out the hints of her tiny wrinkles. The same wrinkles that form when she laughs.

“What is this you’re watching?” Blair rubs at her forehead and clears her throat.

“Gay porn.”

“It’s in black and white.”

“I always jerk off to Citizen Kane.” Niall chuckles when Blair nudges his leg with her toe. “Anyway, I didn’t want to wake you. You’re off to your classes with Duncan in the morning and you always say I wake you when I get home from work.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Walsh, What have you done with the real Niall?”

“I buried him under the floorboards.” Niall rests his head on Blairs, toying with her hair with his fingers.

“Best place for him. Hope he doesn’t start to stink up the place. More than usual.” She casually runs her hand along Nialls thigh, patting him firmly. “I’m going to make pancakes.”

“Pancakes? But it’s really late.”

“Craving.” Blair says. She frowns when he gets up with her. “No, you stay here. I don’t trust you in my kitchen.”

“Not even to make tea?” Niall pulls her into a hug, swaying gently, a silent, feather-soft waltz.

Blair clings tight, hiding her face in Nialls shirt and inhaling deeply. She laughs and wraps her arms around his neck, up on her tiptoes, pulling Niall down with her powerful arms. “Not even to open a yogurt. Do you want lemon on your pancake?”

“Jam.” Niall presses a kiss onto her lips and nuzzles her hand when she slides it along his jaw.

“Make me some hot chocolate.” Blair mumbles. “And do it naked.”

Niall sighs and presses one last kiss to her temple. “What’s the magic word.”

Blair crinkles her brow and smirks. “Now.”

He complies.

#Sorry

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