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just-my-type-x · 1 year

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Old Washoe Club

Based on these requests: 🌹Colby x reader where they are messing around like play fighting and reader gets hurt

🌹could you write like a super fluffy colby fic, just like laying in bed after a investigation or something. hope you’re having an amazing day!!

🌹Colby x reader where reader sleeps with stuffed animals and just loves them in general, i just think that's really cute lol

The imagine isn't written to entirely match the actual video.

"Oh wow, i actually thought this place was refurbished. It looks like an abandoned building", Sam says and we agree as we step up the stairs

"The smell is horrendous, what is that?", i cover my nose with my sleeve and look back to Kat and Colby who were already scrunching their noses because of the smell.

"I didn't want to mention it, but it smells like death", Colby chuckles and we keep going up the stairs

"We'll pretend you didn't say anything", i say and we all laugh.

"My ass is fat", Colby says out of breath when we get on top of the staircase and as breathless as we are, we still manage to laugh at his statement. We look around, checking out the three rooms surrounding us. We choose to go left and we start exploring the room, noticing the X on the floors for the Ghost Adventures' cameras. Colby shows it to me and i walk next to him to see it closely.

"This is so cool!", i jump around the sign like a kid. "Oh, the floor is so loose", i frown and immediately step aside from that area, Colby following me. "We'll have to be careful there".

We get out of the room and enter the doll room, which gives us all the creeps. I don't know what kind of imagination people had back in the 18th and 19th century, but these are not dolls kids should play with. I walk closer to one of the dolls, keeping eye contact with it until my eyes hurt.

"i swear to God, if this doll blinks, it's out the window"

"I think you'll jump first honestly", Sam says and i laugh, walking away from that doll. I see Colby across the room checking a bigger doll out, so i take the chance to go behind him and scare him. He jumps and the doll falls on the floor with a loud bang.

"You made me drop a possessed doll, y/n!", Colby says and moves me by the hips until i reach a pile of dolls, most of them made out of porcelain. I fall between those and the whole room is filled with giggles. I get up fast and make sure to put the dolls back in place.

"I'm getting haunted tonight", i say and step on another loose part of the wooden floor. "Oh my God, this place could collapse"

We take the rest of the tour and we start investigating. We start in the dolls room, where we all sit on the floor and wait for something to happen. Sam turns on the spirit box and the speaker, and we start asking questions.

"Is there anybody here with us?", Sam asks

"hey"

"Was that a hey?"

"I think so", Colby answers

"How many people are in this room?"

"seven"

"Seven, again", Sam points out and we all shake our heads

"leave"

"Did it say leave?", i ask and immediately turn my head when i feel something on my shoulder. "Something touched me", i put my hair on the side to make sure it's not it that caused the feeling

"me"

"Did you just touch y/n?", Colby asks and we wait for an answer that doesn't come. "There are many dolls in this room. Do you play with them often?"

"play"

"Can we play with them too? You can join us", i get up with Colby and we go to the corner where the pile of dolls i fell into is. Sam sets up the rempod next to the dolls, while Colby and I stand out of the range of the rempod. "I don't know how to play with haunted dolls?"

We laugh and Colby takes a smaller sized doll and throws it at me. I throw it back like it'd be a ball and we do so until it doesn't feel like an investigation anymore and we are standing far away from each other, on opposite sides of the room.

"You better catch this, y/n", Colby laughs and i prepare myself to catch it. He throws the doll my way, but because of the distance, I'm not able to reach it and it falls with a loud bang on the floor. Immediately, the rempod goes off and lights up in all the colors it has.

"Oh, you made the spirit mad", Kat states and gets up from the floor.

"We're sorry we dropped your toy", Colby apologises and i pick it up to put it back in the pile. He turns off the rempod and picks it up, walking away from the toys. "If we get possessed it's your fault", he jokes and i playfully push him.

"You need something up your ass too", i say and he pushes me too. I push him back and when Sam turns off the camera until we go to the other room, Colby starts running after me around the room. We giggle and hug each other when he catches me, but when i run away from him again, the spot on the floor i step on collapses under my foot. My ankle gets stuck in the hole, the broken wood scratching my skin even through my jeans.

"Oh my God, y/n", Colby comes by my side and helps me ballance while Sam and Kat come rushing back into the room.

"No way, I'm gonna go get Justin", Sam leaves the room fast, while Kat tries to loosen up the wood spikes so i could take my foot out of there. I wiggle my ankle around but all i can do i let out small cries because of how bad the scratching feels.

A few minutes later, Justin helps us out and i take out my foot, the hole in the floor making the room unavailable for the rest of the night and the upcoming days. I let him know it just happened, that the floors are very loose here and there, and he apologises for the inconvenience.

We take a break and i go back to the car, where i take care of my bleeding scratches, wrapping my ankle in the thin bandage from thr first aid kit. Feeling brand new, i go back to the group and we finish investigating.

Colby opens the door of our hotel room and as we bye-bye Sam and Kat for the night. I limp to the bed, my ankle feeling a little sore after the incident. I sit down and take off my shoes and getting ready for a quick shower before Colby and i get in bed.

"I'm sorry for tonight, baby", Colby whispers, barely awake. I lift my head off his shoulder and look at him, the dim light making it easier for me to distinct his features. He looks up at the ceiling, not blinking once, as he chews on his lip, nervously.

"You're sorry for...?"

"You got injured because i asked you to come along to an unsafe place. And I'm sorry i wasn't cautious enough with you", he kisses my forehead and i smile

"Babe, you don't have to be cautious, I'm a grown woman and nobody's at fault for the fact that the building is so old. Maybe it is our fault just a little bit because we knew how bad the floors are. I wasn't responsible enough to take care of myself.", i chuckle and i peck Colby's lips, his arms pulling me closer on his side, deepening the kiss.

"I love you"

"And i love you so fucking much", i hug him as tight as possible and i bury myself in his chest, while he gasps for air. We lay there a few more minutes, going through the events of the night, holding hands, caressing each other's backs and playing with each other's hair.

I turn on my side, ready to fall asleep after a long night and Colby turns on the opposite side, our backs glued to each other.

"One more thing", i say excited and Colby let's a sleepy, uninterested hmm?. "Give me my stuffed penguin please. It's on your luggage, by your side", i instruct him and he extends his arm in that direction, throwing the stuffed animal between us. "Thank you", i lay back down and Colby shifts in the bed, his arms snaking around me. He laughs when he feels the penguin where he rests his hand.

"You're so cute.", he kisses my head

"Why?"

"Because it's cute how you can't fall asleep without it", he intertwines our fingers together, both of our hands on the toy. I wiggle my body to get closer to him and i kiss the back of his hand, finally relaxing.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock smut #sam and colby #sam and colby imagine

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vampiric-hunger · 3 months

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𝕖𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕠𝕣

pair: Ascended Astarion x female! spawn !reader

tags: no y/n is used, rating - T, just fluff, your Vampire Lord sure knows how to make you feel special

summary: Astarion has been gone for couple weeks, making you miss him terribly, but when he finally returns he brings a gift to make up for his prolonged absence. and what a gift that is.

word count: 2,176

a/n: written for a discord server event, just a little fluff piece because i wanted to explore how Astarion would give a gift to his beloved. enjoy! <3

Your life in the palace has been peaceful so far. Well, as peaceful as it can be while living with a Vampire Ascendant who loves to entertain himself with parties, masquerades and a good-hearted murder here and there. However, you signed up for this life willingly and you couldn’t be happier. Still, parties can be exhausting, but when Astarion notices you acting less than cheery, he halts everything and gives you peace and quiet in the palace until you suggest to him to have another celebration. Eternity is full of delights and you two haven’t shared even a fraction of ‘forever’ yet, so you both take it slow, why rush when you have the evermore?

Nonetheless, before fully settling in Baldur’s Gate, you spent first few decades traveling. From one end of Faerûn to another, tasting everything life has to offer. Not needing to fear the sun, you both strolled through the streets of every city worth visiting and stalked the nights when you needed to feed. Astarion joined you quite often. And while his own desire for blood is near gone entirely, he still enjoys a good hunt, especially in your company.

But eventually you have returned home, to the palace you both carefully refurbished before leaving. After settling back in, Astarion began preparing his plans, just like he spoke years back – to make Baldur’s Gate his domain. And you settled as his Consort – managing servants, provisions, planning parties and eventually - Astarion’s and your own spawn. He carefully chooses every single person to turn into his spawn, while you are generally more lax about it, and he trusts you to make sure that they all behave. But sometimes they do misbehave, as spawn tend to, and when that happens Astarion has to punish them, sparing you the trouble of doing it yourself. You’re not averse to getting your hands dirty, but in those times you stand by your lover’s side and watch with pride how your beloved manages those lesser than him. They all deserve it after all.

Some more years pass in a wonderful bliss. But Astarion’s plans only begin to come into motion. To keep them moving as he wants them to your Vampire Lord has to travel. Sometimes for weeks, leaving you alone to manage your mutual estate. In his absence you don’t feel lonely, but you do miss him terribly, anxiously waiting for his return. At least he sends a messenger bat to you every other day, informing you about what he’s doing and always telling you just how much he wants you by his side. You have a feeling that soon he will stop going alone and will begin taking you with, just because he’s growing more possessive, wanting to make sure that you’re safe and thriving, and to him – that’s only possible when you’re at his side. Not that you could argue with that. Your entire soul aches when he’s absent.

And such you find yourself in this state again. Anxious, nervous, and longing for your lover to come home. Astarion has been gone for two weeks this time, longest yet, and for the third day now you keep wandering the palace, feeling increasingly irritable, snapping at servants and spawn alike, punishing them for minor transgressions. You need Astarion, you crave to be in his arms again, you feel like you’re falling apart the longer you’re away from him. Finest wines and freshest blood can’t lull the ache in your very soul that you’re feeling.

“My Lady, the Lord has returned.” you hear behind you and you immediately stop in your tracks. You were pacing in Astarion’s office, restless and almost ready to send another letter via bat because his own letters stopped a week ago, making you worried.

But he returned. At last.

You turn to the servant who immediately gets out of the doorway when you rush. Your footsteps are fast, you’re holding the front of your long, lavish dress so that you don’t trip. One flight of stairs, then another one. Faster, you have to go faster. If you had a beating heart it would pound in your chest like a dwarven hammer on hot iron.

And then there it is, the last step.

You stop, slightly out of breath, and see that your beloved indeed has returned. Astarion is standing by the main entrance, his clothing and hair are immaculate as always, there’s a smile on his lips but you also see longing in his eyes. Then he opens his arms for you.

“My love!” you cry out and rush to him, the sound of your heels on the tiles fill the room and you let go of your dress just before you fling yourself into Astarion’s embrace.

You hug him with a fierce need and he too wraps his arms around your shoulders, managing to do so before you crash your lips against his. You hear Astarion’s own heart beating fast in his chest and he hugs you even tighter, painfully strong, his fingers digging into your shoulders. You remain locked like this for a long while, kissing each other first in short bursts, smiling, happy to be finally reunited. Then the kisses become longer, deeper and more passionate. You let go of him only to find first two buttons on his doublet, eager to feel his skin against yours, to feel him in a way no one else feels him, or you.

But Astarion catches your fingers with firm elegance and pulls back from your lips. You eagerly want to kiss him again but he just smiles.

“Little treasure, I missed you too, but I brought something for you. Wouldn’t you like to see what it is?” your lover asks and you stop your attempts to steal another kiss.

“What is it?” you ask and dip your head lower, now planting soft kisses on his fingers that hold yours, your heart bursting with love. Astarion’s eyes soften as he watches you and he presses his lips against your forehead briefly.

“Come. I’ll show you.” he whispers and moves from you, taking your hand in his and leading you to the room left from the main entrance. It’s where you greet guests when they arrive, that is, unless the main event is happening in the ballroom.

You follow and inspect Astarion’s appearance as you walk with him, his fingers intertwined with yours. Your beloved doesn’t look any worse than how he did before he left. In fact he looks as he always does – opulent and wonderfully beautiful. You feel relief that nothing happened to him while he was away, but what could even harm the Vampire Ascendant? You know you worry too much but you can’t help it.

“Here it is, my dear.” Astarion stops and you finally look away from him to where he’s gesturing with his left hand.

In front of you, on the floor, sits a medium sized ornate chest. There was a lock on it that now rests on the table nearby and you look at Astarion, your eyebrows raised in an unsaid question.

“Just open it.” he chuckles, obviously pleased with himself. “I got it for you myself. Although I’ll admit it wasn’t an easy task, so you better appreciate it.” Astarion raises an eyebrow and you pause for a moment longer then smile, giving him a nod.

“I’m sure I will.”

You let go of his hand, however unwillingly, and walk to the chest leaning down and slowly opening it. While you do that you feel Astarion’s palm caress your rear and you smile. Oh how you missed these touches. Even though it was just two weeks, it feels like he was gone for eternity.

However, what you see inside shocks you. Your mouth drops open and you lift chest’s lid fully, straightening your back as you stare down, utterly taken aback.

“Is that-“

“A dragon egg, my dear. Indeed it is.” Astarion says with pride and you look at him, the disbelief you’re feeling right now makes you feel like you’re in a dream rather than reality. There is indeed a red dragon egg in the chest, resting on a soft pillow, its opalescent scales softly reflecting the daylight coming in through the windows.

“How did you-“

“Found a lair.” Astarion smugly raises an eyebrow at you. “It’s a red dragon egg. I think it will be quite an addition to our little home, don’t you think?”

You’re still speechless. How in the hells he acquired a dragon egg? And even brought it here? As a gift for you?

“But Astarion, dragons are not pets they are-“ you begin but he rolls his eyes, slightly annoyed now.

“Yes, my dear, I know. You don’t need to give me a lecture about what dragons are and what they aren’t.” he says while taming his irritation, then he turns to you, taking your hands in his, making you fully face him. “You forget that I’m the Vampire Ascendant, love. And you’re my beloved Consort. I’m sure once it hatches you will be able to win its trust and have a companion by your side worthy of you.”

You think it over. Yes, maybe he’s right.

“But why a dragon?” you ask carefully and Astarion scoffs.

“Why not? My coven will survive for eons! A dragon will be a wonderful part of it. To have an ally like this will prove to others that we are not to be trifled with. And you will have something loyal to you and you alone, my treasure. I think you deserve it.” Astarion lets go of your hand and cups the side of your face with a warm palm. His eyes are locked on yours and you see that he truly believes you can convince a dragon, a red dragon above all, to become loyal to you. Well, at least he didn’t steal an egg from a black dragon.

“But what if I fail?” you ask with a tinge of worry in your tone and Astarion sighs, pulling you closer now, his hands finding their usual spots on your hips.

“My dear, I don’t think you are capable of ever failing me.” Vampire Lord smiles and leans closer to your face. “You are perfect in every way, why would you doubt yourself now?” he asks and his lips move over your eyebrow, then down your nose, making you smile and giggle, just like that.

“You put too much faith in me.” you look at him while Astarion trails a row of pecks across your left cheek, making you briefly close an eye when his nose brushes against your eyelashes.

“Everything I have would mean absolutely nothing without you.” he whispers and his eyes meet yours at last as he pulls back just enough to make sure that you see how serious his expression is. “How could I ever doubt you, my lovely Consort? You’re my world. And you will be my world forever.”

Astarion leans in and kisses you again, possessively but also affectionately, like a mere fraction of a thought of you not being in his life makes him fear losing you. His kiss is intense and needy, and you respond in much the same way, holding onto his arms when he fully presses himself against you.

“You’ll do just fine with the egg, my dear. I know you will.” Astarion whispers and you hug him now, your arms move around him; you press your palms onto his back and bury your face in his chest, feeling him begin to stroke your hair.

“Thank you.” you murmur against the fabric of his coat with your eyes closed. You smile and inhale the familiar perfume, letting it fill your lungs. “It’s a very precious gift.”

“Oh I know.” Astarion responds and he sounds like he’s smiling, you think he is. His strokes on your hair are slow and tender. A moment of silence passes before you speak up again.

“Just don’t leave for this long again. I missed you terribly.” it’s easy for you to admit it, he knows that you weren’t yourself without him.

“I won’t, I promise. And if I do need to leave for longer, I will take you with me. Does that sound good, my pet?”

You nod and sigh, relaxing in his embrace.

At last the palace feels much warmer, so much livelier now that Astarion’s back. It’s like stone and iron lost their iciness with your lover present. But no, it’s not that the walls feel more welcoming with your Lord back home, it’s that Astarion is your home. The world is a cold and unwelcoming place but not when you’re with him. Not when you’re in his embrace. Not with his lips pressed against your hair.

And you have forever together. Including, it seems, a dragon to hatch and raise.

You smile while being held by Astarion. Your Vampire Lord sure knows how to give lavish gifts.

You will have to return his kindness later. And you know just the perfect way to do so.

#baldur's gate 3 #ascended astarion #bg3 #astarion #reader insert #female reader #x reader #astarion x reader

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merrysithmas · 2 years

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Obi-wan and Padme as willfully obtuse rivals

Saw this Take on reddit the other day (I know) but I thought it was so perfectly written and captured exactly the dynamic I always felt Obi-wan and Padme to have. I never saw them as friends (and frankly I don't think the on-screen text supports them as friends). They certainly aren't enemies! They share a friend, they share traits, they even share respect for one another - but they are not in league with one another, and importantly they share a subtle current of mistrust for each one another.

Obi-wan outright states he does not trust politicians, Senators in particular. Padme willingly marries a Jedi which is against the Order and Senate's codes of conduct, and blatantly lies to Obi-wan for years. Obi-wan never confronts Padme about his concern for Anakin despite his growing observation of Anakin's instability. They both prefer, in a way, to pretend the other does not exist. Compartmentalized.

Padme and Obi-wan represent, thematically, a dual influence on Anakin - one he must famously choose between Jedi or Senate (spoiler alert: he ends up choosing himself, Sith). It is worthy to note that they hardly ever interact themselves - this is done on purpose.

It is essential for the tragedy narrative that Obi-wan and Padme do not collide and rarely interact with one another. It is their own personalities which ensure this. Years of subtle feigned ignorance between them and purported respect coupled with disinterested avoidance.

The two are almost eerily similar in their delusions (Padme is naive, Obi-wan is arrogant - yet neither believe they are), they overlap almost constantly in Anakin's life, but on their own they rarely interact together. They stubbornly refuse, both knowingly and unknowingly, to ever truly confront one another about this dangerous tug-of-war they are engaged in with Anakin as, for lack of better term, the object of their desire. Yet they are not, emphatically, a love triangle. Anakin is the prize. The Jedi and the Senate are competitors.

These negative aspects to their characterizations propels the Tragedy Narrative with Anakin/The Chosen One as the McGuffin forward. Neither the Jedi nor the Senate are willing to see the truth about Anakin, and both keep their intentions with him secret. Like Padme and Obi-wan, the Jedi & Senate never wanted to admit Anakin's fate might be multifaceted and linked to many different power structures, so instead they seek to direct him on their own.

Anakin as the Chosen One was essentially the harbinger of a message: the Order and Senate need to be dismantled and refurbished. They were corrupt - the same as Padme and Obi-wan (as figures in a Tragedy). But neither side could admit that.

Padme marries Anakin secretly and intends to take him away from a life of service (when she knows he is deeply conflicted about this, & she marries him when he is struck with unstable grief over Shmi), and Obi-wan is seemingly very aware the Council does not trust Anakin and is keeping him on the outside because of fear of his abilities (when he knows Anakin desperately wants to know the truth) - both of these things intend to direct Anakin, unknowingly. Anakin isn't getting what he needs in either direction, nor is he providing it. Nor is the Force - stuck in limbo between these two forces of "good" which are shutting out Skywalker from himself and each other.

Neither Obi-wan or Padme ever consider confiding in one another about this for years, nor does the Jedi & the Senate. It's because they do not want to. It's because deep down they do not trust each other, and importantly, they do not trust each other with Anakin. Despite pleasantries with one another, that mistrust is always there implied in the narrative. The only place Anakin overlaps in this realm is the War.

The war ending is almost unfathomable - because who will "win" Anakin? Anakin enjoys being a general in the War because he can fight for both the Jedi and the Senate, beside Obi-wan who is, ultimately, his true friend despite the struggle, and for Padme as a princess ideal on a distant planet. With the Jedi who he desperately wants to be (though they shut him out) and for the ideal of the Senate (but not truly having to deal with its realities). He is his happiest during the war - though it is an temporary balm, an illusion of inner peace.

Obi-wan and Padme orbit Anakin, each with their own gravitational pull -- Anakin is obsessed with and bound to Padme because of his trauma regarding Shmi (not, arguably, because of genuine selfless romantic love), and Anakin is duty-bound and desperate for Obi-wan's approval (despite, truthfully, having ideas and aspirations way outside the Jedi Code and Order). His fate with both of them is on a collision course for destruction from the get-go.

In the story, neither Obi-wan nor Padme end up being the final keeper of Anakin (Luke and Leia). Padme's death can be looked at as a narrative choice to show that Anakin's and Padme's relationship was founded on unstable principles (Shmi). Yet, he could not leave his soul in the hands of the Jedi (Obi-wan) either, and so destroyed them. Anakin's soul, the Chosen One, ends up in the hands of Bail Organa of Alderaan and the Lars family of Tatooine.

In the end, the children need protection from Vader. Vader of course represents the instability in both systems of Good (Senate and Jedi) and the Sith taking advantage of that. How the powers of Good can easily fall to the powers of Evil when they are divided, secretive, and especially when they seek to control for their own self-gain. I.e. Padme marrying Anakin, and Obi-wan being unable to admit Anakin's mistrust of the Jedi was founded.

Obi-wan and Padme are forced to finally confront one another upon Anakin's destruction. They are forced, in a way, to admit they played a part in it - specifically. The fact that Obi-wan essentially becomes the twins' defacto parent becomes all the more poignant because of this. Obi-wan and Padme, for lack of a better term, become one another's problem at last.

Obi-wan and Padme's dynamic is extremely interesting, and they do see one another as intellectual equals, even admire one another for their skill, but this admiration falls very quickly to their subtle mistrust of one another.

In the end, in OWK, it's obvious Obi-wan fondly recalls Padme with more than a little regret. He recalls a woman, who like him lost everything (and more, her own life!). In the kids, Luke and Leia, he sees hope for a better government (Leia) and a better Jedi order (Luke) - an answer to the mistakes of two parallel but unconnected people - Padme and himself.

The fact that the children are twins is a hopeful sign the future of the galaxy will be in harmony, not opposed to one another, as with the symbolism of he and Padme.

Leia and Luke are miraculously, as per the Force, a chance to redo both the Senate and the Jedi - a gift that could only be possible as the children of the Chosen One, Anakin Skywalker.

The person they both loved wrong and lost.

#anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #padme amidala #luke skywalker #leia organa #obikin #anidala #this isnt anti anything i just like to observe themes and dynamics and symbolism!#they are all deffo messed up and i love it and that's why it's called a #✨Tragedy✨

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quietblueriver · 6 months

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Hi! For the prompting: Imodna, luminescence

Hello! Okay so I started writing and realized I actually want to answer this in two parts, so please find below part i, which is incandescence/Imogen. Working on a part ii, luminescence/Laudna.

Thank you so much for the prompt!!

PS- Usual disclaimer re: errors and prompts. Pls excuse.

The idea came to her last week, when she helped Laudna take the old door out of her refurbished little cabin. It had been hacked in half for some reason but the wood was still good, not rotted through, and she’d tucked it away behind the cabin before she left, telling Laudna vaguely that she had an idea for it.

She thought briefly about paint, but figured Laudna should get to choose the color and they could always add it later if she wanted. The only thing she really needed was rope, which was easy enough to get from the farm’s store, Harlan waving her off when she offered to have the cost taken from her pay.

She made sure to do it when Laudna was out foraging, mindful of the process. The scars on her neck were hard to misinterpret, and she knew some of what had happened, shared quietly under the stars outside Laudna’s cabin or, once, memorably and horrifyingly, through Pate. The last thing she wanted was for Laudna to watch her string rope up in the tree. She hoped the swing itself would be okay, was ready to take it down immediately at the slightest sign of discomfort, felt her palms get sweaty with nerves before she forced a deep breath.

Steady, Imogen. You’ve gotta actually put it up before you panic about takin’ it down.

She wound some rope across the length and around each end, connecting the separate loops in a series of knots she was pretty proud of and, when she was satisfied, hung it on the massive oak with the best view of the sunset.

Imogen had nearly destroyed her thumbnail by the time Laudna made it back, but the immediate and obvious joy on her face and in her thoughts as she emerged from the forest and saw Imogen standing next to the swing soothed all of her nerves. She dropped the basket of mushrooms and clapped, eyes looking between Imogen and the swing like one or the other might disappear if she stopped.

“Imogen! Is this…is this for us?”

Imogen nodded, cheeks aching from the size of her smile. “For you, mostly, but I’ll join you as often as I can. If you want, I mean!”

Laudna tilted her head, an increasingly familiar and comforting melody of fondness in her mind. Her voice carried that same fond feeling as she said, “Whenever you can, please. Thank you, darling.” The flutter in her stomach at the term of endearment ended quickly as there was, to Imogen’s distress, ichor pooling in the corners of her eyes.

Shit.

Laudna must have seen the concern growing on her face because she waved Imogen off, tucked her fingers next to her eyes so that the ichor reabsorbed. “I’m sorry. Happiness, I promise. It’s been a long time…Actually, I don’t think anyone has ever…” Her fingers moved to Pate but stopped, smoothed at her skirt instead. “Swing with me?”

Imogen smiled again, moved to hold the door steady so that Laudna could get comfortable. “After you, m’lady.” She felt silly, something that generally made her uncomfortable, but it was worth it for the laughter it earned her. She was finding she didn’t mind being silly for Laudna.

When Laudna was settled, she hoisted herself up next to her, shoulders touching, and then pressed her right foot against the ground and began a gentle movement. Laudna sighed happily, and they were quiet for a while, the sounds of the frogs and the crickets playing around them.

As the sun set, reds and purples spreading over Faramore’s land and the bluffs, Laudna tangled their ankles together, eyes cutting at Imogen in that way they always did when she initiated physical contact.

(The first time she really touched her, placing a steadying hand on Imogen’s back as she nearly tripped over a log, she yanked it back so fast, her mind in such a panic that Imogen thought there must be danger.

Laudna? What’s wrong?

She turned to find Laudna staring at the ground and fisting her skirt so tightly Imogen was afraid she might tear it. It was like she couldn’t hear her.

Imogen understood once the panicked thoughts cleared enough for her to be able to separate them, found tears stinging at the corners of her eyes and felt a rage on Laudna’s behalf, more and more common, at a low boil in her stomach.

Careful. Disgusting. Cold. Ichor will stain her pretty shirt. Don’t want to scare her. Can’t believe I...she’ll leave. She should leave. Dangerous.

She stepped closer carefully, placing a gentle hand on Laudna’s forearm, which was smooth and cold and a little clammy but certainly not disgusting. Laudna raised her head slowly to meet Imogen’s eyes.

“Is this okay?”

She nodded, and Imogen took another half-step in, let her fingers slide down and tangle with Laudna’s. Her eyes left Imogen’s again to stare at their joined hands.

“Imogen, you don’t have to…I know I’m not…it’s not…”

“I don’t mind you touchin’ me, Laudna. I’m real clumsy, so it’s nice, really, to have somebody there to help.” She squeezed very gently at Laudna’s fingers, ran her thumb over the skin of her inner wrist, leaned forward and said the next part near Laudna’s ear, sure but soft. “And you’re not disgustin’. I’m sorry anybody ever told you that. You’re just a little different.” She let go of Laudna’s hand to remove her glove, took it back and raised them between their bodies, her scars facing Laudna. “I am, too.”

Laudna raised her head then, a tentative half-smile on her face, pulled Imogen’s hand closer and looked at the purple lines scattered across it. Imogen ignored the embarrassment and fear and shame for once, didn’t pull her hand away.

“They’re quite beautiful.”

Her face was burning, suddenly, and she set her own eyes to the ground. “Well, can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before.” She cleared her throat and looked up again, gathered some bravery. “It feels nice. Your hand in mine, I mean. I run real hot and you’re so cool.” She winked, felt immediately ridiculous but got Laudna’s smile to widen so called it a win.)

Like always, Imogen did her best to show it was welcome, pressing her ankle back. Laudna stared down at their feet as she asked, “How would you feel about a picnic tomorrow?”

She answered immediately, “That sounds perfect.” Laudna’s hands had only fluttered a little as she proposed the idea, and she didn’t even follow her question up with a dozen qualifications about the value of Imogen’s time. Imogen felt a swell of pride and satisfaction that Laudna was becoming more comfortable with her. She added, positive reinforcement and also the simple truth, “Real excited to get to spend a day off with you.”

Laudna’s cheeks stained a bluish purple in the low light, and Imogen felt an entirely undue sense of accomplishment, leaned over to let her head rest on Laudna’s shoulder.

This was something Imogen was trying, the physical affection. She wanted to be sure Laudna didn’t feel like she was the only one ever reaching out, wanted to reassure her, push back against some of the shit she’d been told about herself.

Mostly, though, she wanted to be close to her. They hadn’t known each other that long, in the scheme of things, but Imogen was pretty sure both of them had been touch-starved for a long time, and she felt more at home with Laudna than she had with anyone, ever. So she was slowly letting herself give into the impulses to touch and tease and be lighter than she was anywhere else, with anyone else. To be at home.

“That can’t be comfortable,” Laudna laughed, even as she lifted a hand to wrap around Imogen’s shoulders to keep her in place.

Imogen scooted closer. “It’s plenty comfortable, thanks.”

She walked back to the house humming to herself and thinking about what Laudna might like from the market for their picnic, making a plan for her morning. She was excited about spending a whole day with Laudna—dipping her feet in cool water and watching at least one performance from Pate and eating fresh bread and cheese and fruit and, assuming she didn’t get stampeded in line, a few slices of the first chocolate pecan pie of the season from Mackey’s stall.

She laughed into the quiet of the forest. They were going to have a picnic.

The market was more crowded than usual, and Imogen’s headache was threatening, a steady pulsing reminder at the base of her skull, but she was undeterred, buoyed by the promise of the rest of her day.

She avoided a cart and brushed by a family with a teenager whose brutal (and correct, from what Imogen could tell) running internal commentary on her uncle’s bullshit. He must’ve picked that up from that circle jerk of a riding club. What fucking clowns…was so loud that Imogen had to bite into her bottom lip to keep from laughing.

She refocused, picking her way through the stalls looking for the best fruit she could find rather than the best bargain because she was in a good mood, and she’d just gotten paid, and she could almost hear the delighted noise Laudna would make if she could find some of those sour apples she liked so much. She blocked out someone’s mental rant about stepping in dog shit and grinned triumphantly as she spotted a bucket of green apples.

Prize in hand, she moved the already secured slices of pie and perfectly crisply loaf of bread carefully to the side to make room in her basket. “Now, cheese…”

She made it back to the house without incident, headache still only a threat, and loaded her pack and saddled Flora, who was off the roster for the day same as Imogen, before heading to Laudna.

Her cabin was empty, a little surprising because Imogen was almost certain they’d agreed to meet here last night. She had been exhausted, though, so maybe they’d decided on the creek after all.

Redirecting Flora, they headed in the direction of the section best for picnics, a little bend with big flat rocks and enough tree cover to create a little privacy.

She heard it about halfway there, the familiar music of Laudna’s thoughts discordant with panic and fear. Imogen had Flora at a gallop immediately, cussing and hissing as thin branches whipped at her face.

There was a group of people crowded around a set of boulders, Laudna’s lanky form easily identifiable, surrounded and pressed almost all the way against a the rocks. The group consisted of a dozen or so people, including Amos, the local cleric, and some other folks in religious robes she didn’t recognize. There were also several of Imogen’s least favorite men from town, a combination of assholes and real creeps whose thoughts made her wish she could give her brain a shower. At their head was Davey Moore, the sheriff’s brother who thought he was big shit.

They all turned as they heard Flora’s approach, and Imogen barreled through them without hesitation, forcing them to either move or be moved. They dived, crying out, thoughts temporarily diverted to their own safety. They’d be able to block them in before Imogen could get Laudna up behind her, but this at least gave them a moment.

Imogen stopped Flora next to Laudna, whose normally wide black eyes were even wider and whose thoughts were jumbled and afraid and now worried, not for herself but for Imogen.

Imogen smiled at her, as softly as she could manage given the worry and fury that were mounting in her body.

Well, hey there. You okay?

I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I just wanted to…I thought you might like…

Imogen saw then the flowers in her hand, beautiful yellow and purple and blue blooms whose stems even now Laudna was trying to keep from crushing in her anxious grip. Her hands rose the smallest amount, in offering, and Imogen felt such an intense surge of affection and the desire to protect that it nearly winded her. Probably would have, if she weren’t also burning hot with anger.

Trying to let some of that affection out through her eyes, she projected, You got nothin’ to be sorry for, Laudna. Those flowers are real pretty. I’m sorry that these fools…

She turned to glare at the group of men who had recongregated around them, one of the clerics having cast some kind of barrier spell that Imogen could see glinting in the light over their shoulders.

Well, shit.

Moore yelled out, “Temult! Of course you’re wrapped up with this…this…”

Imogen flexed her hand around the reins, ground out, “I’d be real careful how you finish that sentence, Davey.”

Imogen. Don’t put yourself at…

“Ma’am,” one of the clerics she didn’t recognize tried, blue robes shifting as he put a foot forward, “Clearly you’re not aware that you’ve been associating with an abomination.” His voice was kind, gentle, like she was a child and he genuinely wanted to protect her, but he had his staff raised in one hand and the other out, ready to cast at Laudna.

“She’s not an abomination.”

Imogen. Be careful. It’s not worth it, darling.

She heard what Laudna wouldn’t say: I’m not worth it. She sure as shit was, though, was the thing, and Imogen wasn’t about to let these fuckers have her. Imogen looked down at Laudna again, steel in her eyes this time, and brought Flora’s body forward and around a little, a half-shield for Laudna.

Stay as much behind Flora’s body as you can. When it’s safe, I’m gonna pull you up and we’re gonna go. Okay?

Imogen.

Laudna.

“Don’t bother with this one. She’s a freak, too. All messed up in the head like her mama was. Actually,” he sneered at Imogen, moved his hand to the sheath on his belt, “better be careful with her, too. She might try to mess with your mind.”

A set of frowns deepened, confused thoughts pressing at the barrier of her mind as Amos stepped forward. Nobody in her day-to-day life was deeply religious, but Amos had once offered to pray over Imogen while her daddy stood stoically and silently next to her. (He’d told her later that it “couldn’t have hurt to let him try,” while a cacophony of thoughts about Imogen sounded in his mind. Stubborn. Just like her mama. Didn’t sign up for this. Wish she’d just act normal. Can’t even have a fuckin’ ale in peace since she screamed at Darius’s boy. The thoughts were familiar enough at that point that she should’ve been innoculated against the hurt they caused. She wasn’t.) She’d declined as politely as she could, pushing down the part of herself that wanted to tell him to shove his prayers up his own ass, and Amos had been gravely concerned that she wasn’t open to being healed.

Now, in his most pious voice, he said, “Imogen. I feared when you declined my offer of prayer that you had given into darkness, and now I see that it’s true. After we handle your…this…unnatural creature…”

“Hollow One,” another supplied, and Amos turned slightly to nod in acknowledgement.

“Yes. In any case, after we handle it, we can bring you to your father and see about…”

Her heart pounded, and her head rang, her whole body flushed with heat, as she said, “You won’t be handlin’ anything, especially not Laudna.”

“Ms. Temult, is it? I don’t think you…”

“Enough.” Moore unsheathed his knife and Flora tried to put distance between herself and the man, whinnying when she realized there was nowhere to go.

“Shhh,” she rubbed a hand down her neck, eyed Laudna, whose hands were even darker than usual, ichor and magic bubbling up and bleeding across now-wilted flowers to drip over the ground.

With a last pat to Flora, she dismounted, stepping in front of Laudna and sending Flora out toward the path they’d come from, the group of men parting and reforming to let her pass. Flora made it through the barrier without issue and Imogen filed that away, wondered if it was just for humans or just for Laudna or maybe, if they were lucky, just for show.

Imogen.

It’ll be alright.

There was almost no space between her and Moore now, his sharp blade glinting in her eyes as his vile thoughts cut at her mind. She pushed them to the side.

“You’re right. That’s enough.”

She wasn’t the Imogen Temult he knew in that moment. She wasn’t the weird, reclusive girl whose mind wasn’t quite right but who was “real good with those horses.” She wasn’t the panicked, overwhelmed teenager breaking down in the market, the attention-seeking, unmanageable girl yelling at the people around her when there were no more boxes in her mind for the vile thoughts of others. She certainly wasn’t the polite, palatable version of herself she had learned to present to keep the peace.

She was Imogen Temult without filter, and she was done.

Moore blinked for a moment, a break in his thoughts, but then he turned to the clerics around him and said, “Someone knock her out first. Then we can finish the job.”

The minds around her were conflicted at the order, but enough accepted it that someone began to cast, voice loud.

She heard Laudna cry out behind her, saw a flash of black streak by and hit the cleric in the shoulder. He yelled, shock and pain projecting from his mind, but then he started again, and soon his voice wasn’t alone.

There were too many of them, too many of them with too much belief in what they were doing and they had trapped them here, in these woods, where nobody could hear them call for help.

Something in her chest, familiar, hers, but never let loose before, cracked open, and heat flowed out, across her chest and down her arms. It almost felt like her scars were…she raised her hands and confirmed—they were glowing, pulsing purple with power.

“Imogen,” Laudna breathed out behind her, something close to awe battling with concern in her tone.

“What the fuck?”

She looked Moore in the eye as she said, “I said, that’s enough.”

She didn’t know what she was doing, but it felt natural, right, to extend her hands in front of her, nearly pressed to his chest. He lunged with the knife and froze mid-way, body stiff, wrapped in light that beamed from Imogen’s hands over and through Moore and Amos and all the rest of them, her whole body hot and surging like a live wire.

And then Moore was screaming. He was screaming, and so were the others, out loud and in their minds, loud, so loud, a horrible, inescapable set of voices becoming one.

“Ahhh!!!” It burns! Make it stop! “Mercy! Mercy!” So hot, so hot, my gods, I can’t…“Please!” Mother save us…

Hands grasped at heads as their bodies shook and fell to the ground, and bits of their skin, where Imogen could see it, withered with burn, strange purple and white flames appearing and disappearing on their bodies and clothes.

When it was over, all of them prone, Imogen took half a moment to feel both relief and a deep kind of sickness before grabbing Laudna’s hand, pulling her toward Flora, the best girl, who was waiting for them at the edge of the forest.

She grabbed the reins, scars still alight with purple heat, lightning still in her veins waiting to be let free, and they ran.

#imodna #imodna fic #southerngothic #cr prompt fic #imogen temult-centric

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the-west-meadow · 1 year

Text

Nowhere

Kendall Roy x Reader

tw: suicidal thoughts, verbal abuse, drug/alcohol abuse, drunk driving

As you stood in the shade of Connor’s patio, watching Logan and his children walk towards the old adobe church, Kendall’s absence was painfully apparent. You had grown used to seeing him at his father’s side. But he had not come with his family to New Mexico. It was a shame, you thought; he would have liked it here.

Greg, standing beside you in a long peacoat, waved as they disappeared behind the wooden church doors.

“What do you think they’re going to talk about?” Greg said.

“Years of suppressed trauma, maybe.”

“Wow. You think?”

You shrugged. “They probably won’t get around to it.”

You strolled back towards the house, where the others were sitting by the pool. Anyone who was not a child of Logan Roy had been left behind. Marcia, Tom, and Willa eyed you as you entered the house with Greg.

Greg leaned on the kitchen counter as you poured yourself a shot of whiskey from the mini-bar.

“Getting right to it, huh?” said Greg.

“You want some?”

“I’m good. It’s a little early for my system.”

Tom strolled into the kitchen, hands in his pockets.

“Hey, rascals. I see you breaking into the liquor stash. You should have invited me.”

“Well, you’re invited now,” joked Greg.

Tom leaned on the counter and grinned at you both.

“Here we are. The outcasts.”

“I’ll admit, I do feel kind of left out,” said Greg.

“God, wouldn’t you give anything to be a fly on the wall in that room? The whole thing is so uncomfortable it makes me want to puke. I love it.”

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. The name on the screen made your heart jump: Kendall Roy.

“Excuse me a second,” you said, slipping out of the kitchen.

“Is that a new lover?” Tom called after you. You jogged through the house to the room where you were staying and shut the door behind you.

“Hey, what’s up?” you said, keeping your voice low.

“Hey, Y/N. How you doing?”

“Surviving,” you said. “How are you?”

“Can you come meet me? I’m somewhere outside of Albuquerque.”

“What? When did you get here?”

“I’ll fill you in. Are you coming?”

“I’m at the ranch right now. I don’t have a car.”

“Can you figure something out?”

You thought fast, rubbing your forehead. “Yeah. I’ll take care of it.”

“You’re the best.”

You hung up, heart racing. You hadn’t heard from Kendall in weeks. He texted occasionally to check in, but it had been a long time since you heard his voice. It was a painful reminder of how much you had missed him lately.

Tom and Greg looked up as you walked into in the kitchen.

“What’s up?” Tom asked.

“Just a family thing,” you said.

“Oh, come on. You can’t have a personal life. There’s only work, work, work!”

Tom tossed back the rest of his drink and set his glass down.

“Okay, I’ll fuck off. Both of you come sit by the pool and save me from Marcia and Willa. I mean it.”

You and Greg watched until he was out the door, then Greg turned to you in anticipation.

“Well?”

“That was Kendall. He’s here.”

“Are you serious?”

“He wants me to meet him. But I don’t have a fucking car.”

“Right.” Greg glanced around as if looking for an answer. “Okay, I’m not supposed to know this, but there’s a collection of old cars in Connor’s garage. And, stupidly, all the keys are hanging on a rack in the garage. So if someone wanted to take one of those cars out for a drive while everyone was in therapy, I doubt anyone would notice for a few hours at least.”

“Cover for me. Make up a story.”

“Okay, yeah-“

But you were already gone.

You felt like a thief, skulking around the sides of the huge adobe ranch house, past the refurbished church and towards the unlocked garage. Lined up in the cool darkness were half a dozen vintage cars. Spotless. Expensive. Fueled up and ready to ride. You slowed down, taking your time to choose your ride. This was a once in a lifetime chance, after all. When Connor found out, you’d probably be banned from the state of New Mexico.

You chose an aqua 1967 Cadillac de Ville convertible. Sitting in the smooth leather seat, you watched with giddy panic as the garage door opened. Then you gunned it, kicking up a cloud of red dust as you escaped down the long ranch road from Connor’s estate.

The roads in New Mexico were long, straight, and empty. Gnarled barbed wire fences emerged from the scrublands, and distant mountains rolled beneath white clouds. It was the antithesis of what you were used to in New York. Here, everything was low to the ground, wild, free. You flew down the roads, the wind roaring all around you.

It was an hour’s drive to Albuquerque. You kept driving until you reached a diner in a small desert town beyond the city. When you rolled into the parking lot, you saw Kendall standing outside, smoking. Your heart swelled at the familiar sight of him. He stared as the aqua Cadillac parked squarely in front of him.

You cut the engine.

“Hey,” you called.

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

Kendall strolled up to the car, looking it over. Then he shook his head and let out a short laugh.

“Alright. Not really what I had in mind. But it’s cool.”

As he came closer, you were able to take a good look at him. He looked different. He was tan from the desert sun, dressed in a denim jacket and black jeans. His eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses. There was also an edginess, a restlessness to his movements that you didn’t recognize.

He dropped his cigarette, stepped on it, and put his hands in his pockets. You could feel him taking you in behind his dark shades.

“It’s good to see you,” he said.

“You too.”

“Let’s figure out a game plan. I feel like I just landed on an alien planet.”

You sat across from Kendall in the booth, squinting in the hard sunlight that slanted through the window. The waiter brought two mugs of hot coffee. You sipped it gratefully, feeling it nudge against your dull headache. As the waiter stepped away, you took in the sight of Kendall sitting across from you.

“How long have you been here?” you asked.

“A few days. Just clearing my head.”

“You seem good.”

“I feel good.” He sipped his coffee, eyeing you over the rim of his mug. “How have things been for you while I was gone?”

“I don’t know. I feel like I’m not getting anywhere. I don’t have many allies.”

“You and Greg seem pretty tight.”

“I guess so. You cling to each other for survival when you have an insane boss.”

“Pretty bad, huh?”

“It wasn’t this bad when you were around. You’re like a path through the insanity.”

“Well, thanks. But I’ve done plenty of fucked up things, too.”

“It’s different. This borders on abuse.”

Kendall looked alarmed. “Hold on, you don’t mean, like—“

“No, no. Nothing like that. Just psychological shit.”

“Are you okay, though?”

“I’m coping.”

“Meaning?”

“I’m drinking a lot more.”

Kendall nodded, still peering at you intently. “Uh-huh.”

You gazed into the steaming coffee for a moment before voicing the question that was on your mind.

“Does this mean you’re back?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m still working up the courage to see my family.”

He didn’t say any more. The waiter brought your food; huevos rancheros. Kendall stuck with coffee. He watched you dig in with a slight smile.

“You seem like you’re thriving here. Big blue Cadillac. Local cuisine.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s very different here.”

“Seriously. I feel like never get to see the real you. We’re always under the cloud of my dad. You know what I mean?”

You nodded. ”Everyone’s been on eggshells around him this week. I don’t know how you live with it.”

“It’s fucking torture.”

He was smiling, but you could see the pain in his dark eyes.

“Are you going to eat anything?” you finally asked.

“Not that hungry. I guess the desert’s making an ascetic out of me.”

He smiled again and looked down at his hands, turning his sunglasses over and over. He hadn’t stopped fidgeting through the entire meal. You set your fork down and slid your empty plate to the side.

“Hey,” he said, “How long can you be away?”

“At least until someone notices the car is gone.”

“Come on. Let’s go somewhere.”

You drove the Cadillac as Kendall leaned back in the passenger seat, watching the desert fly past. An orange glow filled the sky as the sun sank lower.

“How far do you want to go tonight?” he asked.

Your heart skipped. “What are you asking?”

He laughed. “Jesus. Not like that. I mean how far do you want to drive? Mexico?”

“Are you serious?”

“I don’t know. Am I?”

You looked at him, and you still couldn’t tell. The sun was beginning to sink, casting long shadows on the black road. The mountains grew darker in the distance. Kendall leaned forward, peering out at the desert.

“Let’s stop up here for a second.”

You slowed the car, pulling to the side of the road. Low music drifted from the radio. You cut the engine, suddenly surrounded by a deafening silence. Kendall went very still, listening.

“This is a good place,” he said in a soft voice. He opened his door and started out. “Come on.”

You followed. Small jackrabbits leapt out of your way on the path, which was surrounded by yellow-flowering creosote. A low breeze set everything in motion; the shrubs, the sand, the furtive animals.

You climbed a low plateau that overlooked the sprawling desert. Kendall stood taking it all in. He pulled a small baggy from his pocket and flicked it with his fingernail. You watched in alarm as he dispensed a small amount onto the flesh of his thumb and sniffed sharply. His body seemed to relax. His expression grew lighter. He looked at you almost apologetically, as if awaiting your judgement.

“Yeah. Sorry. This is what I’ve really been doing.”

It was all starting to make sense. The restlessness, the edginess. The fact that he had been here for days without telling anyone.

“Shit, Kendall,” you murmured.

“I’m okay.”

“Are you, though?”

“Not really. You?”

You looked at his hands, which still held the bag of coke. Without a word, Kendall tapped out a rough line of powder onto the flesh of his thumb and offered it to you. You leaned forward, pressing one nostril closed, and snorted it off his hand. When you sat up, the world was reeling. The sunset had turned everything to flame. You looked at Kendall and smiled.

“I’m glad you came here,” you said.

“I’m sorry I left you alone with them. I just didn’t want to bring you down with me.”

“I’d rather work for you. I feel like I’m going to have a fucking panic attack when your dad comes into a room.”

“Now you know what my entire life’s been like.” He smiled. “If you’re not careful, you’ll turn into me.”

You turned to look at him. “But I admire you more than anyone.”

Kendall laughed. Tears slowly rose in his eyes.

“Wow. Never thought I’d hear those words.”

He sniffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“I’m serious,” you said.

“You know, my dad never praises anyone. But everything I do is for him, just hoping that one day he’ll look up and say that I did a good job.”

You sat for a long time watching the sunset until the sky grew purple and dark. Eventually you wavered to your feet, then held out your hand for Kendall. With a big heave, you got him to his feet. He stumbled forward into your arms, then leaned heavily into you. You put your arms hesitantly on his back, feeling the dampness of his shirt. He rested his forehead on your shoulder.

“I missed you,” he said.

You squeezed your arms tighter around him.

“I missed you too.”

He quietly withdrew from your arms. You began to scramble down the plateau, busting your asses several times. By the time you reached the bottom, you were cracking up, covered in dirt. Kendall doubled over with laughter, his hands on his knees, wiping tears from his eyes. Then he looked up and smiled: that big, heart-melting smile.

Your heart suddenly grew warm, despite the oncoming desert cold. As you drove, you snuck a glance at Kendall. His face was turned towards the red sunset, glowing with happiness. A false happiness, you knew. But he deserved all that he could get.

As you pulled up the driveway to Connor’s ranch, you saw a tall figure running out to meet you. It was Greg. Kendall hopped out of the car and pulled Greg to him in a hug.

“What up, Greg?”

“Hey man, I’m really happy to see you but I also have bad news. Turns out those cars are highly precious to Connor. Also, Logan is pretty unhappy about the situation.”

“Does he know I’m here?” Kendall said.

“Well, yeah. It was hard to explain otherwise.”

“That’s what he’s unhappy about. My dad doesn’t give a shit about the car.”

Kendall started towards the house with you and Greg following close behind.

“Is he okay?” Greg said quietly.

You just shook your head. “I don’t think he should be here right now.”

It was cool and silent inside the adobe house. Then, the unmistakable boom of Logan’s voice shook the air.

“Where the fuck are they?”

Kendall seemed to waver in his tracks, then forged ahead towards the kitchen.

Everyone stood together, waiting. They fell silent as you entered the room.

“Has everyone resolved their familial issues?” Kendall said as he strolled forward.

“Jesus, is he high?” said Shiv.

“Are you blind?” said Roman. “He’s completely fucking wasted.”

Logan made a beeline for you, causing your heart to drop steeply.

“I should have you fucking arrested. Car theft, drug possession. What else?”

“Hey, fuck off,” Kendall said, stepping between you. “She was just doing what I asked.”

Logan’s eyes pierced through you. You couldn’t move, couldn’t escape the vice grip of his gaze.

“Don’t you know him better than that? You’re his fucking assistant, no?”

“Actually, she’s my assistant,” Tom said in a low voice, but Logan didn’t hear.

“Yeah, she got loaded with me,” Kendall said, raising his voice. “That’s because she’s my only friend in this shitstorm of a life.”

Logan turned to Kendall, looking him dead in the eye. “You don’t deserve a life.”

Then, jabbing a finger at you: “And you’re fucking fired.”

Logan turned and walked away. Kendall was still reeling from the blow his father had just delivered. He looked like he was about to fall over from the force of it.

“She doesn’t work for you!” Kendall managed.

“Technically, she works for me,” Tom said, still unnoticed.

“Then you get rid of her,” Logan said to Kendall. “She’s not good for you.”

Logan turned and stalked out of the room. Kendall just stared after him, shaking. Finally, he seemed to snap out of it.

“Come on,” he said to you. You followed as he stormed away, painfully aware of the stares of his family as you left.

“You got the keys?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Get in that car.”

“Jesus, Kendall-“

“Then give them to me. They can say I stole it.”

You didn’t hesitate to toss him the keys. You hopped into the passenger’s seat. Kendall started the car, peeling down the ranch road with red dust glowing in the taillights.

Kendall tore down the straight desert road, headlights cutting through a thick darkness.

“I didn’t want my dad to hurt you.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. It’s the worst feeling in the world.”

He was silent as he continued to drive, eyes fixed ahead. Finally he spoke.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. This is my fault.”

You couldn’t argue that, but you also couldn’t blame him. “It’s okay. I’m just trying to figure out what I’m going to do.”

“Work for me,” he said.

You looked at him, trying to gauge if he was serious.

“It’s either that or go back to my dad, begging for a job.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“I know. So I’m rehiring you as my assistant. Actually, I’m promoting you to senior advisor.”

“What does that involve?”

“Getting drunk with me until we both forget the pain.”

You bought a bottle of tequila at a nearby ABC store in the next town, then stopped at the first motel you saw, a cheap but clean place called The Desert Flower. You were both crashing from the cocaine. Kendall’s eyes were bleary and red, his face dark with stubble. He was going down fast. You sat in the car, taking turns with the bottle, unable to even make it to the room.

“I’m sick of wanting to fucking die.”

“Kendall…”

“You heard him, right? He said I don’t deserve a life. That’s how he makes me feel. Every day.”

You heard his voice break. Tears streamed down his face.

“What would it take? For him to smile at me once, to pat me on the fucking back? What do I have to do?”

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do.”

He stared at you, and for a moment it looked like his entire world was crashing down around him. You saw the loss playing out behind his eyes as he realized the truth of your words. Then he leaned forward, put his hand on the back of your head, and kissed you.

You didn’t hesitate to respond. Everything was falling apart, but at least you could feel the warmth of him, his searching hands, his desperate mouth. You squeezed his wrist as his hand gripped your thigh. Then you both suddenly pulled back.

“Fuck,” he said. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”

He was still holding your hand tightly. You wouldn’t let go. You both caught your breath, reeling from the touch.

“I need to go inside,” he said.

He leaned on your shoulder on the way into the room. When you got inside, he collapsed onto his knees, sobbing. You got down on the floor with him, stroking his back, trying to talk to him. But he didn’t seem to hear. He curled up on the floor, totally unresponsive, rocking himself as he wept.

You didn’t know what to do. The Kendall you knew was suddenly gone. You could only think of one ally who could still help you: Greg.

Need help, you texted.

Where are you?

You sent him the address of the motel. He responded immediately.

I’ll be there as soon as I can.

You finally got Kendall off the floor and onto the bed. He huddled there like a frightened child.

An hour passed. You heard a car pull up and saw headlights flare through the curtains. When you opened the door, Greg was sitting there in a red convertible. You laughed, unable to help it.

Greg got out of the car, looking completely out of place.

“Yeah, I know…” he sighed, looking at the car. “There aren’t many Ubers in the middle of nowhere.”

“Does anyone know?”

“Just Tom. He said he’d cover for me. So we’ll see how that goes.”

He peered past you into the room.

“How’s Kendall?”

“Not good.”

“What about you? You don’t look so good yourself.”

“I just need someone here to make sure one of us doesn’t die.”

“Okay, yeah. We should definitely try and prevent that.”

You moved aside, letting Greg through. Kendall was still curled on the bed, his head tucked into his arms.

You sat beside Greg on the edge of your bed, talking in low voices as you gazed at Kendall.

“What have you guys been doing?”

“A lot of coke and tequila.”

“Wow. So a pretty serious binge, then.”

“I think I’m in over my head.”

You gazed at Kendall, who had withdrawn so far into himself that you didn’t know if he was aware of your presence.

“I thought I could help him,” you said.

“That’s more than anyone else has done for him.”

“Why don’t they try to help him?”

“Honestly, I don’t think his family knows how to see him as a person. They only think of themselves.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing I got fired. I don’t know why I even want to work for them.”

“I frequently ask myself the same question. But even though they kind of suck, I still like them.”

“They’re your family.”

“That’s true.”

Greg looked thoughtful. “Then why do you stick around?”

You gave a slight nod towards Kendall’s sleeping form.

“I want to see him win. Not for anyone else. For himself.”

You couldn’t see it in the darkness, but a tear gathered in the corner of Kendall’s closed eye and slid down the bridge of his nose, then was gone.

Greg slept on the floor between your beds. You gave him half of your pillows and the top sheet of your bed.

Sometime in the night, both Greg and Kendall began to snore lightly. You could feel their resting forms in the darkness, the hum of the air conditioner, the traffic slowly streaming by outside. Cars rumbled in and out of the parking lot. Doors open and shut. Everything moved slow in the late hours of the night, the early morning.

They weren’t your family, but you loved them. You didn’t belong among them, but you had made a place for yourself in their lives. And they had become an inseparable part of yours. You held onto this thought as you waited out the long night.

It was early, and you were just beginning to fall asleep, when you heard vague sounds of movement in the room. You felt someone crawl into the bed with you. It was Kendall. He drew himself close, facing your curled form, mirroring it with his own body. He pressed his forehead against yours and reached pleadingly for your hands. You twined your fingers around his.

“Hey,” he whispered. He sounded as if he had been crying.

“Hey.”

You felt his hands for the first time, stroking them with your fingers. He held tightly to you, drawing himself as close as possible.

“Am I going to be okay?” he rasped.

You put your hand on the back of his head. He was shaking, tears dampening the pillow.

“I promise.”

You held him for a long time, until his breathing calmed and he finally stopped shaking. He never let go of your hands, never moved. Your knees touched, arms intertwined. When you opened your eyes, he was looking at you. Neither of you said anything. He stroked your hand with his thumb.

Greg groaned from the floor, and both of you went still, listening. Then you started to giggle.

“Where the fuck am I?” Greg mumbled, rolling over in his sheets, still half asleep.

Kendall snorted, and you shushed him, still trying not to laugh. You could still see tears in his eyes. But he was smiling.

#succession #kendall roy #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy/reader #kendall in new mexico #jeremy strong #tw: alcohol #tw: drugs #tw: verbal abuse #tw: suicidal thoughts #tw: drunk driving #boss/employee relationship #daddy issues

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talesofedo · 3 months

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Image and text from this page.

Throughout the Edo Period, Japan was largely closed off from the rest of the world, relying solely on its limited domestic resources. As a result of this, reuse and recycling were a natural part of life with almost all daily items experiencing multiple life cycles. At the forefront of this 250-year period of sustainability were professions that centered around repairing and repurposing everyday goods and materials, giving new life to items that would today end up in landfills. In his book, “Just Enough,” Azby Brown introduces a number of the professions that led to this period of sustainability and we’ve listed some of our favorites below.

Tinkers

Tinkers were local craftsmen who repaired damaged pots and kettles. Often found carrying portable forges and bellows on their backs, they used scrap metal to repair holes and cracks that would otherwise render these essential household items useless.

Scrap metal dealers would purchase unrepairable items from tinkers and exchange candies and toys with local kids for nails and other usable metal scraps they found while playing.

Paper lantern and umbrella repairmen

While most umbrellas in modern-day Tokyo are quickly lost or broken and disposed of, the raw materials that made Edo Period umbrellas often saw multiple lives with umbrella repairmen carving out a fairly lucrative niche for themselves.

These repairmen would buy used umbrellas, assign a price based on the condition of the bamboo frame then disassemble, repair and resell them to new buyers.

Discarded materials, such as the waterproof oiled paper would pass onto local butchers for wrapping fish and miso.

With umbrellas and paper lanterns sharing essentially the same materials, umbrella repairmen would also cross over into the realm of lantern repair and often sub-contract this work out to low-level samurai.

Used clothes dealers

If you thought Shimokitazawa was overrun with used clothing dealers these days, Brown says there were as many as 4,000 of them in Edo.

With new clothes being unaffordable for the average family, when it came time to update the wardrobe, old garments would be washed and taken to a dealer to be exchanged for refurbished items at a small fee.

These dealers would take apart kimono, dye them and reassemble them for resale, a task made easier due to the way kimono are designed.

As clothes would begin to wear out, they found new life as aprons, diapers, pouches, cloths and eventually kindling before becoming ash which would also be repurposed.

Barrel repairers and recyclers

If you knew your way around a bamboo barrel hoop in the Edo Period you could make a steady living for yourself repairing the various types of shoyu, sake, miso or vinegar barrels found in the average home.

The more experienced itinerant barrel hoop makers could also find work as barrel recyclers, a specialized craft that saved reusable barrels and casks from early disposal.

After collection, recyclers would inspect, grade, refurbish and resell them onto brewers and liquor shops who would choose from new, new-looking, slightly used or worn barrels depending on their intended use.

Ashmen

Most daily items in the Edo Period were made from burnable plant-based materials such as wood, bamboo, straw and cotton.

Rather than have worn-out rope, sandals, hats, raincoats or baskets end up in landfill, these items could be burnt to provide heat and turned to ash, which is where the ashman comes in.

Rather than discarding of ash, households and businesses such as public baths would collect their ash and sell it to local ashmen.

With ash from straw and cotton cloth containing large amounts of potassium, it was in high demand as an additive for fertilizer or for use in ceramics, dyes or sake production which created a lucrative business for motivated ashmen.

#shared #history notes #historical notes #history reference #historical reference #history research #historical research #Edo period #sustainability #recycling #article

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probablyhuntersmom · 1 year

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Big "T" and Small "t" Trauma Portrayed in The Owl House

Warnings: abuse and trauma mentions ahead.

I thought of putting together a post of its own to highlight an aspect of trauma that has been incorporated into the show. This post will be added to my TOH-related mental health masterpost that will be uploaded after the S3 finale, Watching and Dreaming, is released.

Big “T” traumatic events are singular, standalone, life-altering events that don’t happen repeatedly. The type that replays in your mind weeks, months or years after it happens. They can significantly change your perceptions and physiology, and aren't necessarily just about physical harm. Examples are a car crash, a life-threatening injury, getting publicly humiliated, or a natural disaster.

Small “t” traumatic events are importantly still very distressing, and can repeat over time. One of my therapists described this as drops of water falling on a rock again and again, eroding the rock over time (while big “T” would be a single big smash against the rock that leaves a pretty noticeable crack or two). Examples of small “t” are emotional abuse, a loud noise along a street, and smaller scale versions of bigger events that aren’t an immediate danger or which happen after you have established/reached safety e.g. seeing something that reminds you of someone, that makes you feel distress. If you were a parentified kid, like Hunter (having to overextend himself in dangerous situations to be Belos's punching bag), you will have definitely have experienced small "t" trauma to some degree.

This concept was first introduced to me by the best therapist I had. Each of these two types would be treated in different ways. Both types can be experienced differently by each person, since we each have unique life histories and unique combinations of risk factors (that may worsen one’s mental health) and protective factors (that can improve one’s mental health).

E.g. a car crash may not actually feel like a big “T” trauma experience for some people, while certain incidents of more intense psychological abuse that don’t involve physical harm, could be a big “T” incident for other people because it is life-altering.

I’m pretty sure almost everybody has gone through both “T” and “t” trauma to some degree. If you have been affected by trauma, managing your symptoms, and the way in which you receive support from trusted loved ones (and if you choose to see one, a therapist), will be different depending on whether it is the aftermath of big “T” or small “t” events that need to be attended to. If you have experienced both types, you'd need to attend to each differently. This will manifest differently for each person.

Big “T” events can really quickly change the meanings you subconsciously give to things about yourself (e.g. how strong you thought you were) and things around you (e.g. How safe is the world I live in? In what ways does the world feel different now?), changing those into negative associations. With small “t”, the same thing can happen on a smaller scale but it may be easier to turn those negative perceptions around and nudge them in a positive direction. You may benefit from being equipped with reframing tools e.g. journaling, hanging out with safe people, creative outlets like dance or art classes, etc.

Hunter is written so darn well and the production crew have overall made good distinctions between the big “T” and small “t” incidents that he experienced.

Big “T” incidents in the show are the big reveal in Hollow Mind, watching Belos 'die' (I'm wondering what must've been going through his mind when watching his friends put up the drawings of their loved ones in the refurbished shack..), being possessed, and losing Flapjack. Can’t deny that they were life-altering:

Small “t” incidents he went through include, and there are..........so many of them:

(The number of them that are in Labyrinth Runners alone is bonkers)

but we need to remember that small “t” can still be very distressing to go through: we don’t wanna invalidate or minimize that.

Even in the therapy room, if I have a client who has experienced both types, I may not necessarily attend to a client's big "T" wounds first, even though at first that may seem like the logical formulaic thing to do. Because if the client finds that too painful, we could always start by working on small "t" wounds. That's how case by case things can be for mental health treatment.

For a few other Hunter scenes it is less straightforward, e.g. his manic behaviour in Eclipse Lake:

And the haircut-related panic attack:

though I’m inclined to think these are small “t” because I don’t think he will look back on these incidents years later and become disturbed just by recalling them.

The kind of note I want to end on however...might not be what you'd expect.

One of the other Labyrinth Runners moments is a small "t" event that is not listed above. To this day it is my fave snippet in the entire show even after watching Thanks to Them, because from a clinical and thematic perspective I find it realistic, layered and powerful, so much contained in just under 15 seconds:

Because this little experience, while obviously unpleasant for Hunter (likely getting him to emotionally flash back to the moments where Belos almost killed him) for a short time, was also good for him because a safe trusted person was present to hold the space for him. There is both bad and good at play here, ultimately good because contact/connection was willingly made between them both (Hunter could have chosen to shut him out, but in the 3rd and 4th frames it is so telling how deep down this kid truly wants to connect...which is a basic need anyway).

We in the audience already know that Gus is a safe person - though Hunter doesn't believe that yet - who has come along at last to cross paths with him, outside of the Emperor's Coven and after Hunter has fled from that coven. And Gus asks out of genuine concern, "What's going on with you?" which breaks the icy layer of avoidance and detachment that Hunter has been trying to put up since he dashed out of the Owl House in the middle of his first panic attack.

Re-experiencing trauma can't be totally avoided, but the connection you could experience 1. with the people you trust while they support you, and 2. with yourself while using helpful tools and resources on your own.....especially when you have #1 and/or #2 while you are re-experiencing something difficult memories: that is the powerful stuff that could keep you going.

As you might be able to tell, I love this kid so muchhh 😭 He has helped me connect better with my inner child than ever before, on top of my past therapy sessions, he helps me as a licensed clinician to notice textbook stuff that is applied in a practical way, without me having to do as much guesswork on the go with real clients! And I have read on this site that his story has helped other fans to notice things about themselves that should be attended to with care and love.

#toh analysis #toh hunter #the owl house #hunter's trauma #hunter's abuse #golden guard #big t vs small t trauma #loz writes a meta

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horselessheadperson · 8 months

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LITANY AGAINST FAST FASHION: A SHORT GUIDE

2 disclaimers:

I'm not an expert, these are just my ideas. The more you can add on or correct the better, please reblog

The first responsibility in fixing these issues (there are many, it's not a single problem with a single solution) lies with the people making the big money off of this. If you feel like you already have a system for making clothing and textiles work for *you* and you don't feel up to changing anything, that's absolutely fine and you should feel good about yourself for finding something that works.

Having said that, here's the main problem as I see it:

DUE TO FAST FASHION, WE'VE ALREADY PRODUCED ENOUGH TEXTILE/GARMENTS TO LAST US FOR GENERATIONS

The term "fast fashion" really comes from the rapid circulation of collections high street brands go through. H&M famously advertises they have "something new every time you visit", you can always find new pyjamas at Primark, Pull & Bear prints new shitty tshirts every day. Obviously, not all of those clothes actually sell well and then continue to get worn until they are absolutely beyond repair. Most of those garments end up in landfills. Even the stuff that sells usually doesn't survive past a couple uses and gets thrown out.

=> What can I do in the face of this?

Cherish every bit of textile you have. Even dishcloths. Remember even though sewing machines exist every label, hem, and embroidery is hand-crafted onto your bit of fabric. Was it under $50? Then it's likely someone suffered to bring this to you. This is obviously not your fault and this is not meant to inspire personal guilt, but it might inform the way you handle fabrics. Wash something instead of throwing it out whenever you can and follow the instructions on the label. Choose the right kind of fabric for your needs so you don't have to continuously get new stuff.

Learn how to repair and/or alter stuff. This is a big one HOWEVER I feel like this advice is often thrown around without mentioning that a lot of clothing these days isn't made to be repaired. Some socks are so thin and flimsy they won't take to darning and some shoes aren't meant to be cobbled. Most hems don't have enough spare fabric to lengthen a pair of trousers these days. Once you learn about these techniques though you'll be able to more or less tell which is which before buying. I feel confident in my repairing abilities now so I only buy clothing that's sturdy enough to take a few repairs. Again, if that's above price range, don't feel bad.

BUY SECONDHAND. This is the single best piece of advice anyone can give to avoid the fast fashion trap. Always look for a secondhand option - charity shops, bespoke vintage stores, refurbished design, heck, even ebay. Buy something that has already been through circulation and don't add to the demand for new products. The way quality has declined over the last ten years, this also means you'll likely get much higher quality.

Learn to make your own stuff. This is basically a last resort as it's costly and takes a lot of effort and resources. If you're at all interested in fashion though, it's very much worth it to at least look into one or two fabric arts to pick up on the side. You'll have full control over the materials, cut, size, and finish of the garments you make yourself. If nothing else doing this will help you appreciate how much a piece of fabric or a garment is really worth in terms of labour and expertise.

Wear a piece of clothing until you can't repair it any longer. Then, turn it into rags or use it as scrap material for small projects if you do any crafts. After that, donate or re-sell what you can. No, not everything that's donated gets sold, but it's still the most responsible way to get rid of textile products you don't need anymore.

Buying more expensive garments isn't always better. I've had €500 shoes that went bust after two wears and I've had cheap tshirts that lasted for years. When you need a longer lasting item, say, a coat or a pair of boots - do some research, check second hand options, and stay critical. Don't buy based on brand. A good example is Doc Martens, whose boots have famously more or less gone to shit the past 5 or so years.

Remember, fashion is both a verb and a noun. Enjoy!

#fashion #fast fashion #clothing #textile art #textile industry #textiles #sewing

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vashsmunch · 1 year

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In our solitary room

Millions Knives x Reader

Synopsis: you and nai are coworkers at a local music shop, but recently he's been acting strange

Warnings: none

A/N: i'm sorry y'all i'm having too much fun writing him, i'll write vash stuff later i swear

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It started off with the little things.

Nai had never been a "nervous" person for as long as you'd known him. Maybe that wasn't a reliable timeframe because the two of you had only been coworkers for a few months, but you were good at reading people. You worked with him at a local music store that sold refurbished pianos, amongst other instruments. When you were on break, sometimes he would play songs for you as you quietly hummed along in your head.

He would choose this specific one that you could never place your finger on. It didn't sound like any of the classic pieces you would hear on the radio. His fingers would elegantly glide across the keys in a manner where the melody shouldn't have sounded anything but robotic. But instead, it was sweet and tender; you would almost believe it was a love song if it wasn't him playing it.

There were times when you felt like his friend, but acquaintances would be a better term. For the most part, he kept his emotions locked behind his signature deadpan stare, sometimes accompanied by a condescending smile. You had never really minded this, though. In fact, it just made it more fun to tease him. But recently, that facade of his had begun to show cracks.

First was the incessant tapping of his fingers against any and every surface whenever you were around. It didn't help that he had abnormally well-maintained hands, so his nails would make a repetitive clacking noise every time he would start.

"That's getting extremely annoying."

"So is you referring to me as Hundred Spoons for some ungodly reason, but I refrain from saying so."

After a few weeks of giving him death glares, he eventually stopped. However, it began to devolve into other things. Every time you went near him, he would tense up, quietly holding his breath. There came points where you had to physically shake him to exhale because he started to look faint. You would catch him staring at you from across the store on other days. Maybe he was just trying to tell you something? But whenever you met his gaze, he would turn around and walk in the opposite direction. What the hell was going on with him?

Eventually, you had enough. Nai was lazily skimming some sheet music when you stormed up to him, slamming your hands on the table he was at. He glared up at you, quirking an eyebrow in annoyance. "And to what do I owe the displeasure of having you making a ruckus?"

"Spit it out. Why are you so nervous around me?"

He scoffed, almost looking insulted that you suggested something so outlandish. "Exactly how did you come to that conclusion?"

"Whenever I'm near, you freeze on the spot. Every time I look at you, you're staring back with this dazed expression I can never decipher," You leaned down to look at him and watched him swallow hard. "Look, if I somehow made you uncomfortable, then tell me. We're coworkers, and sometimes we're even friends. I like being around you, so please just say it." Your words bordered on a plea, though you weren't sure why. It wasn't as if you enjoyed his company, the two of you were merely coworkers. At least, that's what you'd thought. But as you stared into his eyes, that was the moment you realized that maybe it wasn't all platonic.

Nai eventually sighed and stood up. As he walked past the table, he turned to look at you in annoyance. "Well? Are you going to follow me?"

"Don't get your panties in a twist, I'm coming," You rolled your eyes as he led you to the back of the store, where there were rehearsal rooms with donated instruments inside. This is where the two of you would spend your breaks, listening to each other practice. He opened the door to one of them and held it, waiting for you to enter first. "My my, what a gentleman." He suddenly let the door go, and you moved inside before it slammed shut on you. Dramatic bitch. He sat on the bench before the piano and looked at you expectantly. You joined him, and as your shoulders touched, a shiver ran up your spine. God, what was this feeling?

He inhaled softly before pressing on the keys, and you noticed he was playing that song he always did. You actually hadn't heard it in a while, so it was a pleasant surprise. There was an unspoken rule between you two that there would be absolute silence when either person was playing. At that moment, the only sounds were from the piano, which was how it had always been. It was times like these when you could just exist without worrying about anything else. Being with Nai allowed you that comfort, a luxury you weren't used to. You and him, doing what you both loved the most.

As he finished, you turned towards him, smiling happily. "You haven't played that in a while. It's my favorite, so thank you," He nodded curtly, and you swung your feet as both of you stayed seated. But there was still something on your mind. "This doesn't answer my question, though. Why are you so afraid to be around me?"

Nai stared at the keys, refusing to meet your eyes. After a few moments, he finally said, "You said you liked this song, yes?" You nodded, and he brought out the sheet music he was reading earlier. Where had he been hiding that? He held it out for you to take, and your eyes glazed over the stanzas. They weren't special, but you flipped through the pages regardless. As you got to the last one, you noticed some words written on the bottom.

For the one I could never say it to.

You looked up, turning your head to look at Nai. He stared back, waiting for your reaction. "What does this mean?"

He sighed, exasperated. "You were acting so arrogant earlier; I thought you'd be smarter than this," He took your cheek in his hand, making you go bug-eyed as you stared at him, jaw slacked. What?? Okay, you had to admit, he was an enigma. But even this was completely unexpected. "I composed the song. I always played it around you because I made it for you. You were correct; being around you made me extremely tense. But it's because I feel things I've never felt before when I'm in your presence. As bothersome and aggravating as you are, you are also everything I've been looking for. Before you came, I was stumbling around in the dark, entirely lost in my head. But now I can see something shining brightly, and it's you. It always has been. I want you to be mine because you are the star I followed to bring me to paradise. I refuse to see you with anyone else because I simply couldn't bear it. I'm in love with you. And more than anything, I want you to feel the same." There was a brief pause before he finally leaned in and kissed you. In that solitary room, hidden from customers and the world itself. And it was nothing short of magical.

#nai x reader #nai x you #millions knives x reader #millions knives x you #millions knives

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acti-veg · 9 months

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i genuinely feel like it’s impossible to be an ethical person without sacrificing pretty much everything which gives me any joy

i went vegan, but now i just keep seeing how i fall short in so many other ways. it seems like everything i previously enjoyed has to be boycotted. everything is problematic in some way.

I don't feel like 'ethical' is a thing anyone actually just achieves and becomes 'an ethical person' one day by being nice enough and boycotting enough companies; it's something we have to strive for. I agree with Aristotle that virtue is a skill, it's not something you just are, it's something you have to constantly practice and that won't always be easy. That is made all the more difficult by capitalism.

Whatever you want to buy that will give you joy that you know is harmful, consider whether there is a more ethical version. Can you buy it second hand? Is there a more ethical company selling the same thing? Can you replace it with something else? You can't deny yourself every pleasure, but if something that brings you joy is inherently harmful you can choose to examine whether or not you actually need it to feel happy, and if you really do, how you can mitigate at least some of that harm. It's about choosing your battles.

I can't not eat any vegetables or grains without a severe health impact for example, and I can't afford to buy everything locally and I can't grow it all myself, so I buy it from the supermarket, knowing that much of it will have been farmed in environmentally destructive ways using unfair labour practices. People who aren't even trying will bring that up as a reason why veganism isn't ethical, but it's a lot better than consuming that unethical produce alongside animal products, which require even more of that exact produce.

I can't be completely cruelty free but I can relatively easily boycott animal products, and I can pay for the extra 15% on coffee, chocolate and bananas to buy Fair Trade. There is just about no smartphone or computer that does what I need it to do that is also ethical, but I can buy them refurbished instead of new. I can boycott particularly harmful companies, while knowing that what I replace their products with won't be ethically perfect either - just better. None of these are hugely commendable acts or difficult sacrifices, but it all helps.

Being vegan does not make you a good person, it's just one stance on one particular issue, which is the exploitation of animals. I oppose exploiting animals and refusing to purchase products which engage in that exploitation is accessible to me, and so I do it. It's that simple. Plenty of my other purchases aren't ethical and neither will yours be, because a lifestyle free from any and all harm is not possible under capitalism.

So long as you're doing your best that's really all anyone can expect. We're going to pass through this world just once, so we should enjoy it while trying to leave our small corner of it a little better off than it was before we got there. Being kind to one another and living a good life may not always be easy, but its also not some great burden that robs you of any joy. It is the entire point of living.

#ask #vegan #ethics #philosophy #ethical consumerism

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bones-of-a-rabbit · 2 years

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the babbit fnaf AUs masterpost is here

just abt broke my fingers typing all this bs but, this should answer at least most general questions abt any of my given aus and provides links to related doodles of said aus!

prepare yourselves, fellas, this is gonna be a long one.

AU Masterpost START

Afton virus AU:

This is the one where Reader is a mechanic working at the Plex who successfully made Sun/Moon into two animatronics, but unfortunately gets into a workplace accident that completely mangles their hands. The accident leaves them traumatized and with hands that are slow and shaky and painful to use even after months of physical therapy.

When they attempt to return to the Plex, management approaches them with a proposal: take a large sum of money, leave FazCo, and never speak a word of the accident to anyone. Reader has been struggling with feeling like their life, their ambitions, their dreams, were crushed alongside their hands, and realizing that FazCo just wants to sweep the entire incident under the rug and brush them aside as collateral is more than they can stand. They manage to convince FazCo to let them stay as head mechanic/mechanics supervisor; so long as they are allowed to continue to work there, they will not disclose what happened to them under FazCo’s working conditions.

Reader, swept up in their own grief, trauma, heartbreak, and outrage, dives down the rabbit hole of FazCo’s history of sweeping problems and tragedies under the rug. The more they learn, the more their anger festers and grows and they do little to try and curb their newfound violent, impulsive thoughts.

They ‘recruit’ the other animatronics of the Plex to be their aid by simply informing them of everything FazCo has done and hasn’t done that has harmed and destroyed the lives of parents and children who never deserved it, and then leaving the animatronics with that information to draw their own conclusions and to choose their own sides. Most of the animatronics sided with their long-time friend, with Freddy and DJ Music Man choosing to keep their hands clean but also deciding to stay quiet about what Reader, and the others, were doing.

Sun and Moon, who had already been in love with Reader for sometime before the accident, jumped willingly to Reader’s side as they went down an increasingly dark and bloody path.

They take out their spite and wrath on the members of FazCo that profit from their own corruption, their aim NOT TO KILL, but to maim beyond repair so they will have to live with the pain and unfairness in the same way the ones they hurt had to live what FazCo had, or hadn’t, done.

(relevant links to doodles n such: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/683502836785577984?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/684181412202643456?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/684984208908746752?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/688951362001747968?source=share )

Eclipse Moves In AU:

The AU where Reader, post splitting Sun and Moon, is tasked with refurbishing and rehabilitating a long-neglected Eclipse, and chooses to bring Eclipse to the Daycare to socialize him and get him used to being around people again. Eclipse is head-over-heels for Reader and is very afraid of losing them for any reason, and also resents Sun and Moon for being, essentially, the beloved, popular successful versions of what he was SUPPOSED to be. This, of course, leads to a lot of jealous shenanigans and a lot of Eclipse attempting to steal Reader from Sun and Moon and vice versa.

(links to doodles n such: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/683590090069508096?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/684422288587751424?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/683752325631918080?source=share )

Flipparoo AU:

The mirrored-AU to the Eclipse Moves In AU, in this one Sun and Moon were the ones locked away and forgotten for years on end before Reader stumbles upon them and takes them in. In this one, Eclipse is referred to as ‘Solar’ and is a playful, mischievous preschool-teacher like figure in the Daycare. He wants to be kind and supportive to Sun and Moon on their journey to recovery, but Sun and Moon openly hate. His. Guts.

In this AU, Sun and Moon are extremely possessive and impulsive in their actions and emotions. They care for Reader more than anything else and are violently paranoid of losing them, especially to Solar, and tend to be more forceful and harsh to Solar and, at times, by extension, Reader, than they should be. More than once, they drag Reader away from Solar, leaving prints on Reader’s arms from their grip. Reader, more than anything else, doesn’t want to hurt them while they’re trying to help them get better, and has little backbone in attempting to stop Sun and Moon when the two are being irrational and violent. Solar, similarly, knows that the last thing Reader wants is for him to give Sun and Moon more reason to distrust him and everyone who gets close to the two, and struggles with wanting to protect Reader from their outbursts and trying to be as reasonable as possible with two animatronics being entirely unreasonable.

(relevant links to doodles and such: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/689128350784061440?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/689485227620532224?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/689485535541133312?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/689707454711414784?source=share )

Readerbot/Repairbot AU:

In this AU, Reader is a staffbot outfitted to be an independent, self-maintaining on-site repairman (that they don’t even have to pay!). Through some unlucky twist of fate, they become self aware but are unable to communicate it to anyone- and honestly, they have little desire to. They’re pretty sure they’re not supposed to be aware of their own existence and to have wants and wishes and likes of their own, but they’re in no hurry to get decommissioned.

Through another extremely unlucky twist of fate, they are put to work shortly before the Afton Virus gets ahold of the plex. They have a slightly distant but fond friendship with most of the animatronics there before the events of Security Breach, with most of them treating them like a child or estranged younger sibling. They only met Sun a handful of times, all in circumstance meetings as Readerbot passes through the daycare to fix structures or change lightbulbs. They always quite liked Sun, seeing as he was so unabashedly friendly even when they had only ever made eye contact with one another, but they didn’t meet Moon until things started going wrong during the nightshift.

Long story short, Readerbot does their best to stay out of Moon’s way, but, bored when there’s no children to track down, Moon makes a game of hunting them down and scrapping them to varying degrees. On one such occasion, Moon jabbed his thumb through one of Readerbot’s eyes and cracked their head open like an egg. Since then, Readerbot has mismatched eyes of slightly different colors.

When the virus is taken care of and wiped from the Plex entirely, it takes some of Moon’s memories of being under its influence with it. He’s curious to meet the new staffbot, but half expects it to be just like all the others- mindless, thoughtless, simple machines. Imagine his surprise when Readerbot is as sentient as he or Sun, and then imagine the even greater surprise when they’re actively avoiding him for… seemingly no reason??? It becomes a story about Moon and Reader learning to navigate their own confusing grief, paranoia, and trauma, but at least they’re not alone.

(links to doodles and such: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/684082170195820544?source=share )

Fuzzbear AU:

Sun is a rabbit, Moon is a hare, and Eclipse is a jackalope/woppeltinger. Reader is a field mouse, and a nurse/doctor. Vanessa is a cat. Gregory is also a cat. I like drawing animals. Maybe they all work in a circus or theater or smthn idk i jusst like drawing animals

(links to doodles and such: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/686769243316944896?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/687821767941685249?source=share )

Merms AU:

Sun is a frilled shark/pacific nettle merm, Moon is a black dragonfish/octopus squid merm, and Eclipse is an orca/blanket squid merm! Reader either works in a lighthouse or is a marine biologist.

(links: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/685012310251732993?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/685237243217166336?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/685488021689237504?source=share )

(Merms AU continued) Selkie Reader AU:

Reader is a selkie- a seal shapeshifter that can shed its seal skin into a physical coat to take the form of a human! For this AU, they either run into Sun and Moon as sailors/pirates after being washed far from home by a strong storm. Sun and Moon, thinking theyre a stranger drowning in the sea, try to save them but end up damaging their seal skin dragging them into the boat. Stuck halfway between their two shapes and unable to understand what language Sun and Moon are speaking, the three have an adventure trying to communicate who they are, what they are, and what they should do next.

OR they run into Merm-Sun and Merm-Moon, and the cultural differences make everyone go ???????

After Burn AU:

Oh man this one is such a journey to try to explain I’ll try to make this short but I can make a whole post to explain it if need be,

Takes place decades after the plex burns, in a vaguely postapocalyptic version of the world/city that exists in. Reader character wakes up in the decrepit remains of the Plex, stuck with no obvious way out and with a sizable head injury, and no memory of who they are or how they got there. Moon is one of the only animatronics still functioning and thus begins a long, angry game of cat and mouse between him and the reader. Strangely he never kills them, only makes them fall unconcious, but staying in the corpse of the plex and Moon’s repeated attacks are only making Reader’s injuries/symptoms worse, and when the two strike a truce, they have to figure a way out before one of them dies, and the other ends up trapped and alone forever.

(links: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/686477617958912000?source=share )

Ghostie AU (aka the Witch Reader AU):

In this AU, Reader is a anxious (alleged) witch who was blinded by the people of their hometown (via being lashed across the face with a burning branch and held face down in the embers of a fire) and fled to the Cursed Dangerous Forest to hopefully avoid being punished again. Sun and Moon are spirits (a forest sprite and a woodland curse, respectively) who live in the Cursed Wood, most often either leading people in circles until they leave or making them lost for so long they either die of exposure or are attacked and eaten by any number of the wood’s natural residents.

Reader was accused of being a witch because they (unknowingly) have Spirit Sensitivity (they can feel, hear, speak to, and, previously, could see spirits of all kinds) and had been learning how to make medicine from plant life from the ghost of a long-dead herbalist.

Sun and Moon find Reader staying in an ancient abandoned cabin in their wood and shadow them, intent, at first, on either driving them from the wood or killing them altogether, but then they notice that Reader ISN’T acting the way most humans do in the forest- they’re careful, paying special attention to the plants they’ve begun to cultivate and collect. They leave the creatures living in the forest well alone, they only take what they need from the streams, their fires are made only for warmth or to cook or brew and kept very well contained, in fact, the most dangerous item they have on them at any given time is a pair of old, worn sheers they use to prune their garden and to harvest small amounts of the wild-grown plants in the area. Curious, they begin to creep into Reader’s life- shocked to find that they are blinded yet managing to survive despite it all, and shocked again to realize that Reader can tell they are there, feels them when they’re nearby and can hear them clear as day. The greatest shock, however, comes in realizing that Reader doesn’t know that they’re spirits- like they had with the ghost of the herbalist in their old village, they assume that Sun and Moon are humans, perhaps passing through the woods often to hunt or forage, similar to themselves.

Reader is anxious, overly jumpy, and fears being found by their old hometown friends and punished again. They suffer from a degree of trauma, sometimes wracked with fear and terror at even the small fire they keep in their new home. Sun and Moon grow attached to them, then fond, then wish they were living so they could be something… more. Even if you are able to hold their hands as they are now, how could you ever love them if you knew what they were?

(links: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/685833568301219840?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bones-of-a-rabbit/689579275690606592?source=share )

Deja Vu AU:

In this AU, Reader was a handler and perhaps partner? To Sun and Moon before the whole Security Breach/Afton bs went down. In the middle of the whole mess, Reader dies whilst in the plex, bleeding out in one of the back halls after being stabbed by Vanny. Moon had passed by them as they were bleeding, but, completely lost in the virus, Moon only spares them a long stare before passing them by.

Reader goes on to haunt the plex as FazCo attempts damage control after regaining control over the animatronics. The virus is erased from existence, and to be extra safe, they wipe the animatronics’ memories as well. This AU mainly exists to be sad lmao, the main concept I have atm is Sun and Moon struggling with strange memories and thoughts and seeing a person who only seems to exist sometimes.

What Happens in the Dark AU (might also call it Sleepless with One Eye Open?? Idk yet):

Oh this is another acid trip to explain. Basically, take Reader from (it was, in reality, not fine) and smack them into actual canon Security Breach. Reader struggles to make sense of what’s going in the plex (leading up to the events that happen in Security Breach), struggles to make friends with her security guard coworker, Vanessa, and struggles to befriend any of the animatronics- but especially Moon, who seems to revel in getting them into uncomfortable or even painful situations, and Sun, who seems to resent them and refuses to take any of the olive branches they attempt to extend to him.

Then an incident happens, Reader falls from a catwalk in a potentially fatal “accident” and though they wake up feeling fine, they can’t recall what happened that night. Though they feel fine in the wake of the incident, the entire plex is on edge- such a fall can easily kill a human, and it’s known that Vanessa, Moon, and Monty were in the vicinity when it happened- all of whom have been known to make threats against or voiced severe dislike for Reader. No one is willing to admit to anything, and Reader can’t remember anything but waking up with Vanessa in the employee’s first aid room- and they get horrifically painful, splitting headaches when they try to think about it.

Moon, in the wake of the accident, begins to (visibly) lurk around Reader more often, keeping a constant eye on them and becoming, in some small way, their ally. Reader is thrown into the middle of a conflict they don’t understand or even realized was happening when a child is trapped within the plex after closing, and fights to hold onto their own sense of reality and humanity all the while.

In the end, it comes down to them, Moon, Freddy and Gregory, and Vanessa- and whether the reader is willing to trust, and willing to forgive

ALL RIGHT SORRY FOR THE LENGTHY SYNPOSIS’ IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN STORY IDEAS WORTH SHIT SJFHSJDFSHF

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