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i-drop-level-one-loot · 8 months

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*NSFW* The mating habits of Yandere! Animal-Human Monsters

Yandere!Monster men who sometimes forget that their poor darling is a human and misinterprets their actions when it comes to mating. Short drabbles about yanderes trying to seduce their darlings, but the list gets progressively darker the further down you read.

*Warning* dub-con, non-con, yandere possessiveness, dead dove

Yandere!Crow Harpy who was a little disappointed when you refused to move out of your house. You didn't understand why the feathered man seemed so infatuated with you, but after a long while of him begging you to move in with him you agreed, only on the condition that he moved into your home. It wasn't a traditional harpy relationship, but he was ecstatic regardless, deciding that if he couldn't build a nest with you he could at least win your favor as a perfect mate by decorating it. It got on your nerves sometimes, coming home from work to find shiny bits of trash and feathers tucked into every nook and cranny of your home. Eventually the two of you created a list of acceptable "treasure" to bring home, and what you considered to be actual garbage. He spent weeks "decorating" your already furnished house, before one day pulling you into the living room where he had piled every blanket and pillow you owned into a makeshift nest on the floor. His smile was insecure, desperate for your approval as he wrapped you into his large wings, holding you tightly against his warm body before sinking down into the mass of fluffy objects. You could hear his heart hammering against his chest erratically as he gently began placing kisses against your collar.

"I wanted to help build a home with you, so it wasn't yours or mine, but ours. I pray that my attempts to prove I'll keep you and our future children comfortable impressed you..."

Yandere!Merman who couldn't help but feel awestruck by your beauty, often going on long rants about how much you inspire him. It was a chance encounter while you were studying abroad, and you grew emotionally attached to the beautiful man who sang you words of praise. Although he whined whenever you had to leave the beach, the bags under his eyes became deeper as the weeks went on, chronic exhaustion taking it's toll on the merman. Whenever you tried to convince him that his sleep was important, he would only give a dopey smile, responding cryptically about how his secret project was just as important as spending time with you, and that he would have time to sleep once it was all over. One day when you arrived on the beach he was already there, shaking with excitement and impatiently trying to drag you into the ocean before you could get on your snorkeling gear. Deep where the sun barely touched, a huge intricate mural was sculpted into the ocean floor. As your eyes widened in an attempt to take in just how massive the artwork was, following each perfectly symmetrical swirl, two strong arms snaked around your waist with a tired, yet content, sigh. He blew words into your ear that you were somehow able to understand despite the water, as he sunk with you into the middle of the circular masterpiece.

"You take my breath away every time we meet, and I wanted to do the same for you. Please say that, if you could, you would lie here in my arms forever.."

Yandere!Puppy-Hybrid who was always just a ball of energy, a hyperactive sweet heart who couldn't sit still when he was awake. Most of your days together, it was easy to forget that he could even have urges, with how innocent your relationship was, kisses and cuddles but nothing more. As a species who had mating cycles, although he would never tell you out loud, he was always waiting for you to go into heat. But it was taking so long! He did such a good job being a patient boy for you, you didn't even know why he was being so whiny lately, attributing his neediness to his attention seeking personality. But eventually, he took your phone to do some research. At first he was shocked, humans didn't have mating cycles?? How did you know when it was time to make a baby? Then he came across an amazing discovery. Ovulation. It took a couple of months, holding your belly to his face and breathing deeply for a couple of minutes each day, but he finally learned the subtle changes in your scent throughout your cycle. You had no idea what was going on, thinking he was just being extra goofy lately, until he refused to let go one day, tightening his grasp as his breathing turned into heavy pants, grinding your leg in between his.

"Ah.. you can't hide it from me.. I've been waiting for this for so long... Please don't say no..."

Yandere!Humanoid Spider who always did his best to never frighten you. Even when you first met, it was with him holding his hands up and pleading for you not to run away from him in a soothing voice. Despite the lower half of the creature you met in the forest being a giant spider, the top half was such a kind and handsome man that you quickly began to trust him, soon considering him to be a good friend. He was so thoughtful, always raising his hands as a show of surrender, whether he was approaching you from afar and didn't want to startle you or if you were jokingly fighting over something silly. Even amongst humans, he was the one you trusted the most. If you had known anything about spiders though, you would have been more on guard with his overt displays of feebleness, especially after he began telling you how beautiful you were. You didn't even fight back at first when he suddenly grabbed you from, until he bit into your neck. The kind man, no, the monster you thought you knew, wasted no time sliding your pants down as he still held your backside to his chest, chuckling into your shoulder.

"Ah, my stupid little human~ Were you just pretending to be that naive because you wanted me to take you? ❤️"

Yandere!Naga who couldn't feel love in the same way that humans did. As a researcher working towards her doctorate specializing in Naga people and their many sub species, you were overjoyed to meet a small tribe of Naga men who were willing to allow you to enter their home and record their daily lives. There were so many types of Nagas loosely related to snake species still alive today, and they each had their own cultures, languages, and biology. Based on the coloration you couldn't tell what type these men were, but despite not being fluent in their language they were very kind to you. They seemed to have been in a period of mourning before you arrived, and lavished all their attention on you, babbling on in one sided conversations you could only understand a few words of here and there. One phrase they all stated was flattering only for the first few times they repeated it, but quickly became unnerving as they became more comfortable caressing your face and running their fingers through your hair. And when they pulled you into the center of a giant nest, taking turns thrusting their long tongues down your throat and running their hands over your body, trapping you in a pile of cold men staring deep into your soul with hungry eyes, you learned the species they were closest to.

"We need you... We need you..."

Yandere!Humanoid Scorpion who rescued you after a tourist attraction went arry, promising to protect you until you could be rescued. A strong, bulky man who enjoyed holding you (almost too tightly) in his arms whenever his peers came near. Everything was honestly lovely until in the black of night you were awoken by a strange chorus of sounds echoing outside the burrow the hybrids allowed you to sleep in. A blue light illuminated the large home, and as it noticed you finally woke, approached, revealing himself to be the scorpion man who rescued you, glowing with bioluminescence. Before you could ask what was happening, fear struck you like a bolt of lightening seeing a large, inhuman cock emerging from just below his human half. He lunged forward, and you threw up your hands in self defence. Your hands intertwined with his, fighting against him with all of your strength, but the harder you fought, the more excited he grew. You pushed and pulled, but he didn't loosen his hold on you. Eventually it seemed he had enough playing, and threw you effortlessly onto the bed. Tears streamed down your face at your helplessness, but this only widened his smile as he peeled the shirt off your sweaty body.

"There is no need to fear, my mate. As you can see, no one can match my strength. You and our brood shall be safe under my protection.."

Yandere!Humanoid Waterbug disgusted you, from the twitch of his antenna to the flirtatiousness of his voice. The moment you met him on the water of your lake house, there was no escape. Every time you left or returned back home he was effortlessly skating across the waters surface towards you, begging you to come closer. Although you did your best to ignore him, his loud cries for attention eventually wore you down. Maybe if you entertained him just this once he would leave you alone? You approached him calmly, but as soon as you were within reach he grasped your hands tightly, pulling you partially into the water. He spoke sickly sweet words of affection, chilling you more painfully than the cold morning lake water. You tried to turn him down politely, gently pulling at his grip. He pulled you into the water further, swiftly pushing the two of you away from the shore in one kick of his legs, his unamused gaze no longer holding the playful, flirty gleam it had before. One set of hands held yours tightly, while another pair grabbed your head shoving it without warning under the water. You struggled against his grasp, rapidly losing oxygen as you panicked, black spots filling your vision. But before you lost consciousnesses, he brought you back up, still staring into your eyes with cold fury as your lungs felt like they caught fire. He confessed his love again, but when you began sobbing he thrust you face forward into the water again with a painful smack, holding you down beneath him until stopped struggling. In the air once more, snot flowed and mixed freely with your tears as he aggressively smashed his face into yours, fishing out your tongue and biting it harshly.

"There's only one correct answer to my question, (Reader).. Be mine, or die. If I can't have you, then no one can."

Yandere!Marsupial Hybrid you never saw coming. Lost in the Australian outback, you cursed yourself and your impossibly terrible luck. Hybrids and monsters freely roaming the world were terrifying enough, but being in the land where even the greenery was planted by Satan himself? Your phone had lost it's signal about two hours ago, and your jeep died shortly after that. Trudging along by foot, you continuously felt eyes following your every step, and the fear that a giant spider or monster snake was stalking you made you cry for hours as you walked under the merciless sun. On top of the heat and new blisters forming on your soles, you had to use a restroom as well. Quickly surveying the tall bushes to make sure you weren't about to go next to one of Satan's previously mentioned bushes, you pulled down your shorts in discomfort. The feeling of eyes on you hadn't left since your vehicle randomly gave out despite being double checked before you left the city, but your bladder couldn't care at that moment. A rustle nearby ended your attempt to go before it started, pulling up your shorts so fast it hurt. A hybrid with round ears and a lung brown tail with white spots charged into you, knocking you down. His face was red and slick with tears and sweat, his eyes wide and frantic as he latched his sharp teeth into your neck with excitement. Everything was so fast, with his alternating between feverish rambling and biting into whatever part of your flesh he could reach as he tore off your clothes with a desperation you couldn't comprehend. Tears blended with your own as he kissed, licked and bit every piece of you as he fought your legs open, ignoring your screams of pain.

"You accepted me didn't you?! You knew I chose you! Ah, it hurts! Why'd you put your clothes back o-ah! I need you, I need you now!"

#yandere monster #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere monster x reader #smut #dead dove do not eat #minors dni #bad writing #not proofread #yandere drabble #yandere hybrid

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dreamwritersworld · 1 year

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On my own… part 2 (sully family x reader)

There’s a reason why the word ‘dreams’ got Jake so upset when it came out of Y/n’s mouth, it’s all the child ever talked about.

*7 year old Y/n*

It was just Jake and Y/n in the home since Neytiri decided to take the boys and Kiri on a trip to some area in the forest she used to visit since Jake wasn’t up and he had a headache Y/n offered to stay home to cheer him up!

“I want to fly! Be strong and conquer the world! I will some day, it’s all I’ve ever dreamt of! Doesn’t it sound beautiful dad? Eywa told me through my dream! I mean really it-“

Jake couldn’t hear Y/n talk anymore, about a life she won’t ever realistically achieve, it was his final straw when she said Eywa sent her the dream.

“Y/n how could Eywa even send you a dream like that, it is not real.”

Y/n gave a surprised face to her father’s louder voice but she decided to ignore it maybe…he didn’t mean it?

“Oh..well I believe it’s real sir! You can achieve dreams if you just push for them! It’s brings such happiness-“

Unfortunately for the child she was not his cure to any of his happiness and only caused his headache to linger around longer and hurt more well, since they were alone…it didn’t exactly end well for Y/n.

“Eywa doesn’t send you dreams! They are not real!”

Instantly the child who didn’t like the loud noise and yelling, started crying. She flinched at her fathers hand that raised towards her..

“Ok!”

“They aren’t real Y/n! And your dreams…they’re just fucking dreams! Do you understand me?”

“Yes!”

“Say if I want to hear you say it!”

“My dreams are just dreams!”

“Say it again!”

“My dreams are just dreams!”

Jake had nodded off to the girl before turning back around to the meal he was eating while Y/n slowly walked back to her hammock with tears falling down quickly.

You see? Y/n wasn’t always able to handle Jake’s outbursts…but now it seems as though it’s easy for her

I ran faster than I ever have before adrenaline was the only thing keeping me stable…None of this was supposed to go out this way, they were supposed to be right beside me…and if I die tonight would I do it again…? I never knew how much anger could lie in me, not until this moment…I’m just so upset and scared. I have no one. I have nobody to run to for a hug, to hear a congratulations from or fly with at the end of my ceremony. Neteyam, Lo’ak and Kiri had that…so why can’t I? Does my father really I’m that incapable? Mother just stood there watching the entire thing…we weren’t always like this, with father yes but at one point my mother cared.

And my siblings faces? You can completely tell they realized before they were forced to leave, that my father was willing to go far…just to break me from asking again…to risk me sacrificing myself for something that could be done the right way without me having to die as a second choice?! …was it obvious to everybody else? That I’d fallen for a lie…the fact that our father couldn’t find it in his heart to give me what I deserve.

Forget it, I just need to get through this so I can prove them wrong and show them that I don’t need any ounce of their disrespect anymore.

It was pitch black and as if it wasn’t bad enough I didn’t have anything to secure that I’d actually do this on my own.

I just put my hand out and used my feet to memorize my surroundings, I was used to doing this in a way…I trained myself to be in the dark because, dad used to wake me up in the middle of the night after being upset at me a couple hours before and he’d tell me to sit in the dark somewhat farther back from our home, in the pitch black…so I’d have to find my way back home..

If we’re being quite honest I’m doing great! This isn’t that difficult-

Screeches and warrior like cries can be heard from an ikran nearby, ok this is it…sounds a little too loud and aggressive to be a regular Ikran..but ok..

I reach for what feels like the neck and try holding on until it threw me to the wall, pulled me back in a little too agresssive and suddenly I was flying….without an ikran.

Panic rushed in as I beg for Eywa to save me. For a moment there I was going to faint but I felt an ikran sweep from under me thrashing me around but catching me everytime before I fall…this ikran really isn’t giving up on me, I won’t either not now, not ever. I hold on tighter holding it by it’s neck and quickly make tsaheylu.

I can feel everything, it’s frustration, sadness overwhelmed happiness, and eagerness to just fly. So I gave the ikran and i what we needed i flipped and did tricks while the excitement rush through us. It was ok to be on the edge of it all…but you must always bring yourself back in.

After awhile I decided I flew pretty far so I found a bright place to sit so I can get a proper look at my ikran and get some rest.

“I’m gonna take a better look at you buddy! I just want my eyes to be closed before I see you so bare with me please!” I jumped off and accidentally slid down its huge wing. “Woah- you seem larger than I expected..”

I open my eyes once I hit the ground and right In front of me was a beautiful ikran, orange with beautiful dark red stripes on his wings…toruk makto.

“Oh my- you weren’t even supposed to be where I was at, you’re never in the Iknimaya mountains…you..you’re perfect!” he snuggled in towards me slightly. Tears rush into my eyes thinking about me achieving my dream and more.

“You chose me. Even when I was falling to my death you came back for me to keep fighting…you are where my loyalties lie.” I make tsaheylu once more to show my appreciation but to also feel his stories…he feels some sense of betrayal and confusion..towards my father.

My father caught him, used him for battle and then simply returned back to his regular ikran ‘bob’ as if toruk makto was nothing. He then showed me how he saw me from above, and watched me from afar…showing how he saw the way my father treated me…how they left me, and then he made me feel strong because he showed all my training I had done and all the work I was doing around the village…how I enjoyed taking some risks despite my past…the way I still smiled and showed respect towards others and ended with showing me how Eywa sent him to me…what surprised me the most is when he showed fire, I didn’t understand it but it reminded me that this entire time my body felt so warm and felt like my heart was on fire…burning.

Yes, I was very happy to finally have a bond but…when I looked around me and realized no one else was near me, I just gave out a stressful sigh before finally allowing myself to be free in my emotions…

*meanwhile back at home…*

“Ma’Jake w-why would you do that? She won’t-“

“Exactly she won’t make it , she knows that. In a few minutes she’s coming back just sit down and wait.”

The three siblings came back in the tent with a sleeping Tuk, all upset.

Lo’ak was the first to speak up for Y/n…

“Why would you do that dad? You’re asking for her to just die or get hurt? We have to go now.”

Jake now was reacting out of more anger

“You have no clue what she was sa-“

Neteyam was next to join the conversation…he was just so upset he didn’t even care what was coming out.

“We heard everything dad. Why are you asking that of her? Why do you make everything so hard for her? She has done nothing to you.” Neteyam was turning on his heels walking out the home to find Y/n….until he was yanked back

“You leave when I tell you to leave! Do you understand me? I will not risk you guys getting hurt for her choices. I gave her a choice she made the wrong one.”

“A choice?! What choice dad? You leave her with nothing and practically force her to do her Iknimaya under difficult circumstances knowing she can die!”

“Sit Down right now! And be quiet! I don’t want to hear it at all!”

The entire family went quiet and sat down, with rage still fueled inside them. All Neytiri could think about was her wrongs…did she really just allow her husband to send out their daughter?

*neytiri’s thoughts*

My vision is blurry and my heart hurts…why? For a daughter that holds deep secrets?….after the incident she was in when she was six, she didn’t come back the same. Her body was stronger, she did things quicker…and when she was emotional you can feel it radiating off of her, you can see these visions…like she’s showing you her present and her future, only by the touch of her skin. Jake said it was best to just stop her from having any emotions or being close to anyone else because he once saw her in the woods..scared and alone crawled up in a ball creating a ring of fire around her. I’m not even sure she remembers that, I let Jake handle everything with her…her punishments, her overwhelming emotions, all of it. He said it’s best.

I used to look at Y/n like she was my whole world…when she was just a baby still. Her skin was soft and she was beautiful! Oh and her smile, kindness, and the way she was able to love with her whole heart. Sensitive and stupid as Jake says…but had we gone too far on trying to protect her? Wouldn’t this make her emotions worse..? How could we keep pushing our daughter away?

Truth was Y/n wasn’t even adopted.. Jake said that even though Lo’ak and Y/n are twins, we would only show the clan Lo’ak as our biological child…make up a lie about two warriors, no one even bat an eye, believed everything we said. The reason we didn’t want it getting out was because at the time the scientists who were here wanted a biological daughter from Jake to help in their ‘experiments’. They said they would be able to make her strong, and connect with the world in many ways since Jake had Eywa by his side..a daughter would be considered more of a blessing in the scientists eyes. Stating that females were more vulnerable, gentle, sensitive so the results will be more apparent. She’d be able to produce a stronger version of Navi’s if she passed by Eywa herself..who was to guarantee that? So I made Jake deny all of it and they finally stopped asking, we never even bothered to tell her the truth…how would she react?

We even buried ourself deep in our own lie..we don’t treat her as our own.

Neytiri gets up after 15 minutes

“You go right now! Go look for Y/n. I will not wait here while my daughter is out there.” Jake turns to his wife in disbelief while Neytiri could careless.

“Go right now. If she isn’t here…I will not hesitate to blame you.”

Neytiri turned back around telling everyone else to just rest and that Y/n will be back soon with both Jake and herself.

Then they flew…it had felt like longing minutes and Y/n wasn’t anywhere. They had search everywhere, Neytiri’s heart started to burn…something or some part of y/n was still here, maybe Y/n had got her ikran and it was flying around.?

“Neytiri..we have looked everywhere, she will come h-“

“No! We will not rest until she makes it home.”

“She would not leave! Y/n will never leave, she loves her siblings too much.”

“Jake! She could be dead.”

Silence stayed between the two parents, jake contemplates everything..he was so upset with Y/n. He just keeps pushing forward to look more, to satisfy Neytiri’s sudden change in emotion towards Y/n.

While that was happening Neteyam had Lo’ak and Kiri hold everything down at home while he searched for Y/n. He flew farther out instead of staying close to home…If there was one other thing Y/n wanted it was to leave home..for some reason she never found it in her heart. He spotted a body laying on bioluminescent flowers..Y/n.

“Y/n! Wake up now. We are going home.”

She rose at the sound of her brother stern and yelling voice.

“…is he still mad?”

“Very. He’s looking for you with mom. She’s even madder. You could’ve died. How could you-“

“You don’t think I know that? You don’t think I’m frustrated with everything already so I need you to shame me too?”

“Right…that’s why you’re still here. Resting as if nothing is going on back home.”

“…I can’t go back. I thought it might be different this time…They will shut me out even more..I can’t do this. I’m so exhausted.”

Neteyam felt a sense of betrayal, Y/n always followed them, always remained loyal and now she doesn’t want to come home? He isn’t used to this ‘treatment’ and he doesn’t even taken into consideration that this was about their parents.

“This is all about you..”

Full irritation erupted in Y/n as she feels the burning in her heart start again..

“Yes! It’s about me! Ok? Cause it’s never about me and I’m finally making it about me. Haven’t i given enough? You do not know the full story Neteyam. Do not go around saying things you may regret, because I don’t need it. Not right now.”

“…What’s the full story?”

y/n never told anyone the way her dad spoke to her, how he pushed her around sometimes..She can’t tell Neteyam right now and her sorrow came back..

“please don’t ask that..you’re my brother and this may be the only time, that we can talk normally..he’ll punish me..”

“how y/n..? Just tell me.”

Sobs came from the girl, to Neteyam they sounded exactly the way she cried when she was little…always silently crying upset about something no one understood why, at least not him…he was the only one who knew Y/n would cry by herself.

“..I just…I can’t say it..”

Neteyam’s just went to hug Y/n and held her while she cried, facing the fact that she won’t ever tell him or anyone what was going on..

“…where is your ikran?”

Y/n calls out and toruk makto came flying in, she was panicking inside because something felt it was ready to burn…she tried controlling it but in a way she was running into the crossfire ..she didn’t even bother to see Neteyam’s reaction to toruk.

“Let’s just go please. I’m done.”

Then they flew back home…

!💕!

Fun fact!

Y/n considered not going back home yes, but she realized she shouldn’t run away from problems like her father

Toruk had always chosen Y/n! He wanted to bond with her as soon as she was old enough to get her ikran. His frustration with Jake only grew when he realized it was him who stopped her.

Lo’ak and Kiri were talking about how strange it was that their father easily put his hands on Y/n to hurt her..

Y/n doesn’t know that she has powers! She doesn’t remember because In those moments her mind goes blank.

Neteyam saw a small vision of fire but it was very faded because Y/n unknowingly got her powers under control as she grew!

Tag list: @noodlesfics @eywas-heir @itshype @zatarias-pandora @yeosxxx @arminsgfloll @tsireyak @neteyamforlife @aimsro @elegantkidfansoul @goodiesinthecloset21 @nikotokitaswife @bucky1235 @detectivesparrow @kikosaurscave @ssc7514 @destinylb @simp-erformarvelwomen @eirianna @ambria @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @lv9su @luciddasher @dakotali @httpjiikook @tainted-artist4161 @fanboyluvr @bat1212 @mxn14 @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @ducks118 @midnightliacr

#SoundCloud #jake sully x reader #neteyam x reader #loak x reader #neteyam sully #neytiri sully #sully family x reader #avatar loak #avatar the way of water #sully family x daughter reader #angst

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shaunamilfman · 1 month

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It’s been so long since I’ve sent an ask in, i fear the kids will think we’re in a divorce. So today I came to offer up a situation I believe in 1000%.

Jackie Taylor in college not knowing how to flirt with women, so whenever she meets you for the first time she doesn’t know how to talk to you. She ends up buying those stupid men’s pickup artist CDs, the like late 2000s type. She believes it completely and thinks that this is how you get girls and buys like the whole box set. It comes with douche clothes, a small notebook of pickup lines and a huge textbook along with like 10 CDs. Literally any normal person would know these lines and tactics would absolutely not work, but she’s convinced herself. So she tries approaching you in a bar and when you don’t follow the script that the pickup artist said you’d respond with, she gets nervous. She pulls out and skims through the pages of a huge book that in VERY bold letters on the front reads, ‘HOW TO GET WOMEN’

She eventually gives up on the textbook after she sees the weird look you gave her upon seeing it. Just ends up taking a bar napkin and writing “Do you like me?” With 2 options below that read “Yes” and “YES”. She’s looking at you like she’s so proud of herself that you cant help but circle the option in all caps. (She thinks that means you’re dating, immediately)

excellent ask as always bro. feels like we haven't spoken in soooo long. waiting by the window for my husband to come home from war. checking the post office every day for one mere letter from the front lines 😔

the way that little book is the only thing jackie's taking notes on before she got to college. she bombed her first exam and is like "omg how do you study in college???" and then looked at her 10 pages of notes from "chicks 101" and a lightbulb lit up

jackie has the best pickup lines written down and her phone and keeps checking the notes app as shes walking towards you (walks into a pole). forgets them immediately the second she starts talking to you (you talked first and she forgot what she crammed) but refuses to admit it and tries it anyways. completely flips the line around. like "you're the only ten i see, are you from tennessee?" and immediately winces.

screams into her pillow atleast once a week. did not realize that flirting with girls would be so fucking hard. no one tells you this thing. she almost misses when she thought she was straight. the shit was soooo easy. she's so good at flirting with boys that she's still pulling them without even trying.

also jackie for fucking sure memorizes how she wants conversations to go in general when she's nervous about something i feel and the second someone goes off script she's like "hold on now". has to schedule a doctors appointment for the first time and they ask her a question she didn't have written down and she hangs up (they needed her middle name. she makes shauna call them from rhode island lmaoo.).

peering over jackie's shoulder and she's got 20 tabs open all along the lines of "how to kiss", "how to tell her i like her", "how to flirt with women when you look straight", "how to be her friend in a gay way", "lesbian. girl pretty. help"

jackie does NOT believe in situationships. what do you mean you're not in love with her??? you went on three dates?? she secretly sprayed her perfume on your pillow when you were in the bathroom and everything. yahoo answers swore it would make you fall in love with her

side note jackie immediately hard launches you after one date. queen. writing mrs jackie taylor in all her notebooks for sure. calling shauna up like "i found the one" and shaunas like "...where is she from?". "unimportant. anyways so on our date..."

you see a no faintly written under a shit ton of eraser marks before she changed her mind and wrote another yes. (was nervous about giving you the option lmaooo)

#jackie thoughts 🩷#jackie taylor x reader #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets x reader #soffsh

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maoxyi · 2 months

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To Let Go (pt 2)

Zoro wakes up in the middle of a village. He’s unsure of what village he ended up in nor how he got there. After a brief glance at his surroundings, he begins walking. He observes the people as they go about their everyday activities, almost uncaring towards Zoro being there. As he trudges along, vigilant and careful, he wonders if it was all a dream. He wonders if he is totally not lost. Because he’s not. Or maybe he's dead and he doesn't know it. That would be a shame. It irks him to think about. There's no way he could go down that easy. He'd never allow it. Luffy would never allow that. So he has to get back to him, even if he is dead.

He sees a bar and enters, coming face to face with a young woman with dark green hair hauling a barrel of booze. He swiftly walks over and lifts it out of her hands with ease, helping her place it in the back. As he does so, he converses with her for a little while and introduces himself. He explains that he has no idea where he is and how he got there. Asking if she could tell him. Assist him to get out so he can find his crew and captain. She smiles softly.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Zoro. My name is Makino. Right now, you’re on dawn island.”

Zoro freezes. His eye wide with shock and confusion. Of course he immediately knows where he is. He's heard the story before. From him. How could he ever forget. He himself belongs in that side of the blues after all. He knows he can find who he’s looking for here. After all, a first mate should know the most about their captain. He stands and asks Makino whether she’s seen luffy. She raises an eyebrow, asking how he knows him. She’s suspicious, his brain supplies. Yet even so, there's a twinkle in her eye. One he's never seen before. It's… odd. He clears his throat.

“I promise I'm not here to hurt him. I am a friend.”

She smiles at him again. Knowing. Understanding.

“I know.”

She walks back through the door. Zoro moves to follow. He stands in the doorway as she mulls about, moving things around. She tells him that he’s outside at the harbour. He nods. He runs out and heads towards the harbour (asking people where to go along the way). Heavy footsteps sending dust up as he goes. Quick and sharp, ready for what he will find. He sees a mop of messy dark hair. He grins and calls out, seeing them stand.

He raises an eyebrow. Confusion ripples through his body as he stares down at the boy in front of him.

Luffy was a child. Not the child he first met, no. A very small child.

He’s confused. He doesn’t understand. He’s questioning him but Luffy doesn’t really know who he is. He just blinks up owlishly at him, eyes wide. He doesn’t know what’s going on.

“I know I wasn’t here.” Small Luffy says to him, “And… and I know I was somewhere else. I know you. I know Zoro. But I don’t want to go. I'm ok here. I want to stay. The future is too scary. I haven’t met him yet. I haven’t met the man I’m supposed to yet. Maybe it’s better if I don’t?”

First, Zoro thinks to himself, this isn't like Luffy. He's not like his captain. Then, Zoro notices he doesn’t have his Straw Hat. He blinks slowly down at the boy. He begins to understand what point in time this luffy is. Which Luffy it is. When this Luffy is. And in this moment, he will treat this Luffy with kindness and tenderness. If anyone, he will treat his captain alone with this softness. He smiles at him, the gentlest he has in years. Or at least he hopes so and kneels down in front of his little captain. He takes his hand into his own much bigger one.

“But luffy, don’t you want to meet so many friends? Don’t you want to help your future friends?”

“Yes but… but I don’t want to be on my own. I don’t want to do it alone..”

“You’re Never alone luffy. You have us with you. You always have and always will. We are your luffy. You’re our captain.”

“…I’m a captain?”

“You are.”

“Am I good captain?”

“The best in all the seas.”

“And Zoro is..?”

“Your first mate.” He says proudly, eye shining brightly. “The first to join you.”

“Really? That is so cool. Zoro is so cool!”

Zoro chuckles at this little Luffy and the boy looks down before he speaks again.

“… I want to stay. But I know Zoro and the others need me.”

Zoro nods, his captain's stubbornness still so strong no matter where or when they are. He grins, just as stubborn as he is but he knows that Luffy doesn't need that.

“I won’t force you to come with me luffy but I’ll stay here with you for as long as you want me to.”

“But Zoro… Zoro won’t reach his goal.”

“That’s fine by me. As long as I’m here with my captain.”

“If Zoro can’t reach his goal…” He pouts, “I want you to.”

“I won’t leave without you.”

“…grandpa won’t like it.”

“You have me to protect you.”

“…promise?”

“I swear it on the life I have given to you.”

Luffy's eyes are wide and clear as he stares into Zoro's remaining eye. There's a flame there. Zoro grins. He's got him.

“Ok. I’ll come home with you.”

Luffy takes his hand and leads him towards the forest. Before Zoro can ask where he’s taking him, he has to shield his eyes.

Luffy blinks up and catches the hat that fell from the blonde man’s head. His face splits into a wide watery grin. He holds tight as his eyes shine with tears. Marco slams into Akainu, knocking him far away from them as he fights him off. Luffy jumps and hugs the man.

“Sabo! Sabo, how did you remember?! You aren’t supposed to remember!”

“What are you talking about Lu? I was already coming to save Ace and yet I didn’t even factor in that I’d see you again this quickly. Well since last we met at Water 7 with gramps anyway.”

Luffy is confused by this because Sabo isn’t supposed to remember. Yet everyone is calm and not confused to see him. That leaves him even more confused. Sabo is… here with him. To save Ace but… he's not supposed to be. Ace comes over and crashes into the hug. He’s relieved. Luffy looks up at Sabo. He stares at his face. This is different. There is no scar.

“Come on guys, we have to go!”

He hears Usopp calling for them and without hesitation, he grabs his brother's hands and runs. He runs and runs and runs. He calls to Whitebeard a quick thank you as he goes and Whitebeard smiles at him. He looks back for a moment to see his brothers, tired and hurt but alive. His blood runs cold as he feels his movements become sluggish. He can feel his adrenaline going down, he’s tired. His head begins to throb as he runs desperately. A flash and he sees something.

A warm, calloused hand in his. A gentle smile.

…

“You’re Never alone luffy… we are yours… you’re our captain.”

…

“I know Zoro and the others need me.”

…

“I won’t leave without you.”

…

“Promise…?”

But he can’t hear the rest. His head aches. His eyes go blurry as his energy is zapped. He falls forward. Someone reaches for him. He grabs the hand and leads them away. He can feel the denial and refusal but that child took him away…

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loserlvrss · 3 months

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꒰ 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓? ꒱ 古賀祐大

summary : you and your boyfriend broke up on bad terms, however, you can't seem to get over him when it would be so easy to be under him instead

genre : angst, non-idol!k x afab!reader, 1st person pov (yeah idk why either) tws : angst, suggestive content, kissing, alcohol consumption, language, toxic!k, lovesick!reader, jealousy, verbal fight author notes : fuma’s innocent don’t do girl don’t do itttt word count : 2.2k

my phone pinged! and i debated ignoring it — for the nth time in the last hour. the music was blasting, the bass shaking the house in a dub-step rhythm. i took another swig from the metal can that had somehow made it into my hands as another text rang out and caught the attention of the girl attached to my arm. the smooth liquid was the best the bottom-shelf had to offer, and beggars can't be choosers when trying to get drunk fast.

her eyebrows knit, eyes locking on the piece of machinery closest to her sights, then raising to mine.

honestly, right now, i wanted to throw the overly-expensive communication piece at the wall and watch it shatter. i looked to her, the phone, and then the can, taking the rest of it back and crushing it like a frat-boy would.

she huffed out a laugh, "you didn't block him?" but, it wasn't so hard to believe and she knew it just as well as i did.

i still loved him, even after the couple of months we've been broken up; it's not because it was on good terms. actually, it was the complete opposite: we were shit to each other and it was best we went our separate ways. we should, in reality, hate each other. it would only be the natural thing for two people in our situation to do — however, i can't help fighting the urge to reply.

her disappointment was apparent, “y/n, are you kidding me. he’s not even here right now but you can’t stop thinking about him! pick any other guy, i beg.”

my senses were colliding like a car-wreck — leaving my better judgment in the leftover to never be found again. i could see the red and blue and hear the sirens howling out to the moon. still, even under my dying breath, his name would roll off it.

“i-i’m tryi —“

“don’t be ridiculous, i know you well.” she said, fishing the phone that wouldn’t stop buzzing out of my hand. she read out the top text, “y/n, come over. i need to apologize. I need y — he’s drunk. he only ever says shit like this when he’s drunk! you forget he was my friend before he ever dated you. and, god, do i regret introducing you to him.”

my heart sank, a nausea creeping up my throat. he was bleeding me dry, i knew it, but he could have it all; my skin, bones, blood and teeth.

“block his number before you do something we’ll both regret!” she handed it back, “you know i only want what’s best for you — you’re you for fuck sake! you could have anyone, and i mean anyone, yet the only person in your head only texts you at two fucking a.m. you deserve better than him, don’t kid yourself.”

tears pricked my eyes because i knew it was true, but the shooting pain only went away when his hands were on my skin. it was better to stay away, to not take the risk. he should’ve been — should be — the one to get away, and sometimes i also wished she’d never introduced me to the devil under a different name.

“okay,” i sniffled, her palm resting against my cheek comfortingly, “i’ll block him.”

“good.” she unlocked her arm from mine, pushing me forward, “now go find someone better! god knows the bar is low!”

i felt the brush of a body against mine as i found myself smack in the middle of the crowd. my head whipped to the sights of a boy, probably around the same age as me, half-lidded eyes and flushed features. he apologized but, honestly, it was my — her — fault, though he didn’t seem to register that it was anything but an accident, probably too drunk to.

it was an envious state, i thought.

i smiled lightly, her words echoing my mind, “its okay. i’m sorry. my name’s y/n.” his face was soft with godly-defined structure: sharp nose, eyes and plush lips that upturned with a smile resembling mine.

“fuma!” he said, trying to shout over the music. however, something about his tone told me he wasn’t loud, exactly the opposite in fact: gentle, and warm. something my boyfriend — ex — had lacked when we were still together once upon a time. “you’re very, uh, beautiful.”

i laughed at his awkwardness, though i had to read his lips to understand. “thank you,” i replied, pulling him down to my height to hear each other better. my lips brushed against the shell of his ear. “you’re very pretty too.”

he visibly shuddered as i pulled away, furthering my slight sense of pride, mostly because i never had an effect over the only person i wanted to.

he choked out, “d-do you want a drink?” and i nodded, grabbing at his empty hand. the friend i had come with gave me an approving smile and shrugged as if to say the cliché, 'he's cute and you only live once.' he froze, obviously a little shocked by our sudden intimacy, however he brushed it away and led us both to a quieter area; weaving through lip-locked and timely-jumping college students.

i found myself pushing up onto the counter top, watching as he grabbed two beers from an already opened case. they were warm, but again, beggars can’t be choosers when trying to get drunk. he cracked it open and handed it in my direction.

his eyes wouldn’t land on mine, but only stared at the lips that were taking the smooth liquid so easily, watching my throat bob with every gulp. he shifted, leaning against the painted-wood-plastic at my side.

after a moment of deafening silence he asked. “do you go to this school?”

“no.” i replied, letting the can rest against my crossed legs, “i’m here with a friend.”

“a boyfriend?”

the words stung, because no matter the truth, i still wanted to say yes. i still wanted to be able to call the person i loved so deeply my boyfriend — to have him pick me up from this stupid frat-party and not have anyone say anything about it. i still wanted him, and i knew exactly why, though i’d never admit it.

i bit my lip and fuma must’ve, even through his clouded state, read the room. “a sensitive subject, i’m sorry.”

“don’t be sorry, i, uh, don’t have a boyfriend.”

“anymore.” he corrected. maybe it was because he was drunk that his words, even slurred, were so truth-filled it stung. “but i can tell you still want him to be.”

“no,” you paused, both knowing it was a lie, “i want to forget about him. he’s not here.”

“he’s not?”

“i don’t give half-a-fuck where he is in actuality.” you swallowed a bit of your pride, as well as some beer, “if he wanted to, he would. right?”

“right.” he replied, taking another swig.

i looked at him, all of him in disbelief. he knew i was a liar, but at the end of the day he didn’t even know me the way my ex could claim. maybe, i thought, that it was the best possible situation for me to be in. actually, it was the best i could make of this fucked up reality.

my voice lowered ever-so-slightly, “do you want to?”

“be your boyfriend?”

“woah, slow down there cowboy. let’s not go that far right now — we both know i’m not over my ex.”

i couldn’t tell if his face flushed from embarrassment or just the copious amount of alcohol running through his blood. “then, do i want to what?” he breathily-laughed out.

“make me forget?”

my reply almost sounded desperate, and i wondered if that resulted in an inclination to say yes. i wondered if that’s why i was pressed against the countertop i once sat criss-crossed on, lips locked with a stranger.

i felt guilty — a little lost — the sense of feeling so good but so wrong leaking through the thought of him; the man whose hands desperately groped whatever he could find, pressing our bodies so close i was convinced we could merge into one.

a moment ago it was true i wanted him to make me forget about my ex, i wanted him just as bad as he did me. but right now, the flashes of someone else strobed behind my eyelids, projected so nicely that i even wanted to forgive him — for the nth time in the years we spent on and off. i wanted to feel the intimacy of love, even if it was fake, but i couldn't when the only person i felt stockholm syndrome for was across the city.

but, a bus ride at this hour would be easy. it would take barely half and hour before i was underneath the man i wanted so pathetically.

my body shivered, but it wasn’t from the way fuma gripped my skin so gently. i felt a coursing guilt rush over me like a bad high. in reality, i knew i shouldn’t have offered, especially when both him and i were under copious amounts of influence; him worse-off than me. i was taking advantage of a good situation, a seemingly good guy, just to get over a bad for 40 minutes.

maybe i was just crazy — not crazily in love — but just plain fucking crazy. crazy for a man who wasn't mine anymore. crazy because i knew i shouldn't want him. crazy because i knew i was just losing a part of me that should've been lost a long time ago. crazy at the thought of being crazy.

"y/n" god, now i could ever swear i was hearing voices — his voice. well, that was until a hand grabbed my bicep, pulling me away from the tall man. "y/n, what the fuck are you doing?"

i didn't even get a chance to swing around fully before i was being pulled from the kitchen and out of the house entirely. the air was frosty, but honestly i couldn't be bothered to even feel cold; too annoyed to think of anything but the man who was still latched to my arm. eventually, i got fed up, after feeling copious amounts of despair fill my chest, pulling my limb from him.

he turned around calmly, despite the red i could see seeping behind his pupils. he tried to grab my hand this time, but i back away before he had the chance.

"don't — don't touch me, k." i crossed my chilled arms over my chest, one foot back and prepared to step again, "what are you doing here?"

"you weren't answering."

i scoffed, "i never answer, k. that's nothing new."

he didn't hesitate, and it was a little shocking, "your location is still on."

"that doesn't give you th-the right to just show up out of the blue!"

and despite being mad at him, he looked so damn cute with a pout on his face. i could tell he was somewhat drunk, a pink tinting his features i used to adore oh-so-much.

"but, you weren't answe —"

you yelled, "why would i answer you, k!" i couldn't understand his infatuation with the fact that i didn't answer his late-night texts, but maybe he was just as lovesick as i felt. "wh-why would i do that after all this time?"

was he just as damaged as i was? did he really still front like he cared, and was i still falling for it over and over again? it's said that to forgive takes strength, but right now i think that holding back is taking more out of me. he had my heart in his hands still, and despite dropping it countless times, he always knew when and where to pick it back up.

i wasn't sure if i loved him, but i'm just as unsure about not being in love with him. he's driving me to brink of insanity. he's gotten everything out of me, and it's taking everything in me to not muster up more.

if i had known that love would've had such a high price tag, would i still have felt the same way towards him? maybe the good could out-weigh this bad, but i was never one to wishful think before meeting his stupid-pretty eyes. i was never one to feel so unsure before having his stupid-hot skin on mine. i was never one to wear my heart on sleeve before he oh-so-gently pulled it out of me.

and maybe he was unsure too. maybe he didn't know why i wouldn't — couldn't — answer his messages. maybe he was one to think so highly of himself that s breaking up was just a suggestion.

did i love him enough to give him a fourth, fifth and sixth chance? yes. i loved him enough to forgive and forget after every little mistake, and that's what's eating at my brain. the hardest thing I've ever had to do was walk away while still loving him. so, why doesn't it feel like it's for the better? why doesn't his memory fade like its supposed to.

"admit that you only came to see if i was with someone else." i sighed, tears blurring over his frame, "admit that it was because you were blinded by jealousy. admit that you still want me, that you can't get over us as easily as i thought. admit that you still lo —"

"i love you, y/n."

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

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ga-yuu · 3 months

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Story Of Fate Rikka

This as before they were known as the powerful demons, 'The Great Demons'...

Tamamo: "Running away from home again? Rikka."

Rikka: "Why are you bringing that up?"

One snowy day.

For the first time in several years, Rikka appeared before Tamamo.

Tamamo: "What do I say then? I've known you a long time, ever since I met you as a child."

Tamamo: "You're always surprising me with your sudden disappearances and then coming back to me when I forget about you."

Tamamo: "You're a heartless friend. You won't even tell me where you are and what you're doing."

Rikka: "Well, I have a lot of things to do too. Troublesome things to be exact."

Tamamo: "If I pry too much into it, I know you won't be visiting me any more."

Rikka: "Tamamo's perceptiveness has always made things easy for me."

Tamamo: "........"

Then suddenly, Tamamo looked straight at Rikka.

Tamamo: "Rikka, do wanna go on a journey with me?"

Rikka: "Eh?"

Tamamo: "I'm about to leave the village of foxes. My surroundings have become even bloodier than they were a long time ago."

Rikka: ".........."

Rikka: "Haha. Are you inviting me on a journey for freedom?"

Tamamo: "It's a shame that I would be missing you, my only friend. So I thought it would be a good idea to take you with me."

Rikka: "Wow. You're so selfish."

Tamamo: "You're realising that now?"

The falling snow absorbs their voices as they laugh.

Tamamo: "Rikka. I don't know anything about the Yukijoro family."

Tamamo: "A mysterious clan that lives in the northernmost ice-shrouded part of the Otherworld. I won't ask you to tell me what you're up to."

Tamamo: "But we can run away together."

Rikka: "..........Tamamo."

After a freezing silence, Rikka opened his mouth.

Rikka: "I can't go anywhere. I'm not like you."

Rikka: "You can be anything, Tamamo. You can be The King of Foxes if you want or not."

Tamamo: "......."

Rikka: "But there is no future for me."

Tamamo: "No future? What are you saying?"

Tamamo frowned suspiciously.

Rikka: "Let me tell you something. The Yukijoro clan, is a female-only clan."

Rikka: "Our women leaves our clan to have a child and returns pregnant after having sex with a human man."

Rikka: "All babies born this way will be Yuki-onnas."

Rikka: "Sometimes they even lure human men, seduce them....and freezes them to death after having sex with them."

Rikka then gave a chilling smirk.

Rikka: "Yukijoro clan is lecherous, cold, and mysterious. ...So dirty that we can't interact with anyone. Do you get it now?"

Tamamo: "...Rikka, you?"

Rikka: "It is said that for the first time in 100 or 1000 or so years, a baby boy was born to a Yuki-onna."

Rikka: "And I'm given a different mission, unlike the women."

Rikka: "That's why...I can't leave with you. Forever."

Tamamo: ".........."

Rikka: "But, I wish you a safe journey. I hope we can meet again somewhere."

Rikka put his lips close to Tamamo's ear and whispered.

Tamamo stops him as he tried to leave...

Tamamo: "Wait."

Rikka: "....!"

Tamamo: "Don't say goodbye so easily."

Tamamo: "Out of respect for you, I won't say anything right now. But..."

Tamamo: "We will both outlive each other, and our paths that do not cross will one day cross."

Tamamo: "Then at that time, let's smile and walk in the same direction."

Rikka: "......."

Rikka: "Tolerance is, I think, in some ways a cruel thing."

Rikka: "...Thank you."

Tamamo pretended not to notice that his voice was slightly plucked by emotion.

A few minutes after Rikka talked to Tamamo-----

Rikka: "........"

The falling snow completely dyed the field white.

The shadow of Rikka standing in the middle of it looked melancholy.

Rikka: "I know you're there. Come out."

Yuki-onna: "......."

A woman in white steps noiselessly out of the darkness through the snow.

Rikka: "The watchdog of Yukijoro, huh?"

Rikka smiled at the woman who seemed to be from his own clan.

Yuki-onna: "Are you still playing around here?"

The woman glared at Rikka hatefully.

Yuki-onna: "You cannot allow yourself to be attached to anything. That fox, whom you know nothing about...let's kill him, shall we?"

Yuki-onna: "Even that fox is of an exceptional talent but still an incomplete vessel. Now, if our clan comes together and....."

Rikka: "........"

The next moment of freezing silence....

Rikka: "Try it, I dare you."

Yuki-onna: "Ngh..."

The pale woman's face became even bloodless as her entire body was enveloped in a sharp deadly atmosphere.

Rikka: "I accept my fate. But if I see you people messing with Tamamo...."

Rikka: "I'll freeze everything in the world."

Yuki-onna: ".....ah..."

Rikka passes by the Yuki-onna, who remain frozen to the ground speechless.

Rikka: "Tell that to the elders too."

After Rikka walked away, the Yuki-onna collapsed to the ground.

Rikka: "......."

The blizzard intensifies, as if snatching away Rikka's murmurs.

Rikka: "Why is that we always realise what's important only after we've lost it?.....Ah, another cold night is coming."

Rikka: "I thought I could become stronger if I had something to protect.....Tamamo..my hero, my friend...I hope that one day...."

'I do terrible things to you.'

If I say that, it will eventually become reality.

Struck by such a chilling premonition, Rikka swallowed his words and spilled a....chilling breath.

#ikemen series #ikemen genjiden #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #cybird #ikegen #ikemen genjiden rikka

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midnxght-sweet-time · 2 years

Text

✦ Ｉ'ｍｎｏ `Ｇｒａｃｅ` ✦

❥︎ Paring: ✩Aether x F!Reader

➳ AU: Fixer!Sagau

⚠︎ TW: Hurt to comfort. Reader dealing with period times. This fic may trigger your ptsd of the hypostasis event.

᯽ A/N: This was me playing around with the idea of a scenario when creator is playing Genshin outside of the game world.

Around the time I wrote this, I had a friend who was going through some deep shit so this was partially the experience.

To anyone else going thru a rough time, just know that its okay to not be okay and these dark times will fade away soon. Take things easy for urself and forget whatever neagativity people think about you. Focus on and learn to love yourself. Your feelings matter.

❦︎ Tags: @campanula-rotundifolia @chihawari

"Now- Are you sure – you want me to do this-?"

"For the last time, [Name], I am okay with you controlling me."

The tired voice of the male's rings in your ears through the soft cushion of your headphones. One hand nervously holding onto your trusty mouse while the other with the index finger, hovering over the W key with an aching hesitance. You feel the nervousness holding you back, keeping you on a pause just like the blonde haired male in your screen. He taps his foot impatiently, his sword by his side as he faces a giant geo hypostasis, larger than the regular one, sleeping by the middle of the domain platform.

"Why are we doing this?" You heaved a shaky inhale. Even though you know if Aether dies you can always respawn him back into the game with a simple click of a button, it does not assure you of the fact this man is about to go through literal hell.

The geo hypostasis you were up againsts was a more buffed version, somewhat the mother of the actual hypostasis you two would face outside of this domain that our starbound traveler was confined in. This strange event somehow spawned in an insanely powerful hypostasis that you will need to kill in order to obtain primogems for the sake of upgrading your characters.

"Helping me fight is much easier than me having to fight it myself. You've done this before." The boy's voice is stern but soft, as if talking to a child. "That doesn't change the fact I'm controlling you like a puppet on a string. Do you really think that's morally fine?" His eyes closed as he could hear the panic of the Creator in the back of his mind. You stuffed a pillow on your face as the panic manifested in your voice erupts from your throat. Your screams slightly penetrated through the bolster that reduced the loudness of your voice.

As much as you hate controlling the will of your now live creations, Aether was right. You're able to see in a third person view of him, making it easier to catch sight of anything incoming his way from all directions like his third eye. That and along with you controlling him to fight, is much more smoother than Aether frantically keeping his guard up. Albeit the feeling of his body moving on its own is quite unsettling, but he has to admit, you guiding his movements in fending off enemies is more efficient, knowing you care for his well being and is doing everything in your power to keep him out of harm's way as much as you could. He feels safe with you.

"I need you." his mouth was left open, his words lack some sort of completion. Wonder written on his expression as he blinked once in thought. You didn't respond. Your screams prevented his words from being comprehended as all you could focus on was your moral anxiety.

"Please…your grace?"

With those words muttered, the internal screaming stopped. It went silent for a moment. One second has passed, then two, then three. It made Aether worried.

"[Nam-"

"I told you before. Don't call me that."

His eyes widen at the sudden change of tone from the god. You sounded empty, very stern but a slight crack in your voice made him tense. The air around him suddenly became a heavy weight. He can just hear the hidden pain in your voice. But why?

"[Name] I- Are you okay?"

His body turned away from the hypostasis as he exited the domain. Perhaps they will face it later, right now his concerns are on you. Did he upset you?

"Sorry Aether. I'm just… a little emotional today." You admit. You went from total panic to angry to guilt in a matter of seconds. The blonde haired male is convinced you were not okay. Whatever happened before you opened up your computer to see him, it was probably a bad case.

"Want to tell me what happened? I can be a good listener y'know?" Thinking you might need someone to talk to, he wasn't expecting the next few words that came out of your mouth–

"I'm on my period."

His lips immediately shut after that, stretch to a thin line and his eyes widen slightly at the realization. Oh how could he not notice that? The sudden mood swings was a dead give away. A bright twinkle of stars flashes in front of him as the cute little mascot pops into existence, looking at Aether with her hands to her hips and a disappointing shake of her head. "W-well, how are you feeling? Did it just came?" He asked, trying to ease up the awkward tension that's suddenly at the back of his mind.

"Yeah… I can feel my lower half turning itself into a pretzel as the ovaries go through a monthly olympic tug of war." His ears perked up at the sudden thump, Aether assumes you are probably laying face first on your desk. A snicker at your silly joke. "Shouldn't you rest then? We can continue this next time." The blonde male laid down on the grass and looked up at the night sky. The floating child followed his movements with a trail of stars behind her. "Paimon thinks so too! You should really rest up, you're in no condition to play!"

Their words were left unresponded. Silence befalls them once again leaving the two to worry about what you are thinking out there. Aether laid on the grass, following the silence. He can feel the grass swaying and tickling his exposed skin. He was about to say something before your voice echoed to him.

"You said you can be a good listener… right Aether?"

Your throat sounds dry, it stings the back of the male's mind. He was convinced you really didn't have enough water. He sees the stars twinkling away, the moon burns into his sight. He wonders, what's your life up there? Is it even up in the sky? Or another universe he could travel to? "You voice sounds dry. Shouldn't you get yourself some water?" His voice softly brushes with the wind, it's loud enough to embed it into your mind.

Ah, perhaps you really should keep your health in check. Your hand reaches out to the nearby water bottle, immediately takes the cap off and starts chugging down the drink. You never noticed how thirsty you were until you felt the sense of relief as the cooling liquid flows down your throat.

"Thanks Aether." You cleared your throat, the hoarseness of your voice disappeared. Through your screen you can see Aether looking around the area, as if he's trying to pinpoint where your monitor is. To him, you were a whisper in his head. To you, he is but a programmed character that you came to care for.

"So, what happened? You don't have to give me full details if you don't want to." You bit your lip at his initiative. As much as you want to let your feelings out, a force of doubt clung onto your chest. It is so desperately screaming at the back of your mind to call it off, to tell them 'Nevermind' or 'I'm fine'. Your breath hitches as fresh tears pooled at the side of your eyes, blurring your vision as an impersonation to your clouded mind. Words stuck and jumbled in your brain, all trying to find their way and form a complete sentence to tell a story, but clash with each other, it formed only small mutters of insecurities.

Aether can't understand what you're going through. How could he? One of the many characters you created that's apparently brought to life; and you, a grown young adult, ranting to an AI about your problems.

Pathetic

Then it hit you–

"I'm pathetic. I don't know why some people of Teyvat would see me as some god." Your mouth shuts at that, your voice trying to hold back the choked sobs that threatened to erupt from your throat. "I mean- I understand I'm the creator but–" a hiccup interrupted your words, a hand covering your mouth.

"I don't like anything about myself. I'm just some person that likes to create a world which I can play in to escape from reality and compensate for the fact I'm no use to the world I live in." Your voice becomes so quiet, it breaks the hearts of those who hear it. You sounded helpless, like a small animal crying for help in the end of the dark cave.

Aether was about to say something, but the little mascot beat him to it. "You shouldn't really tell yourself that. It's not good!" Her voice chimed in the usual high pitched tone.

"Paimon thinks– everyone has a worth, no one is pathetic. You are amazing in your own way [Name]. Life is so short, so enjoy it." You and Aether were almost shocked at the sudden change in tone from none other than Paimon. The high pitched tone was gone in that moment, what came out was the soft spoken, friendly resonance she once spoke with at the beginning of the journey when Paimon was first introduced and guided Aether through Teyvat. "Looks like your the one that took the words right out of my mouth this time." The blonde haired male chuckles. "Paimon's right. We may not be able to understand your troubles outside the screen, but we still want to console you." His hand reaches out, a sign of affection that wont reach you til your next your next visit.

"Your not just our creator, your our friend too, [Name]. Wether we are real or not, we are here for you. Thats what a 'comfort character' is, right?"

You didnt even have to tell them your situation and they already seem to understand you. Their words were enough to relief you of your stress. "Thank you both. I feel so much better now." You wiped your tears away, a determined look on your face with your heart feeling full from the encouragements your filled with.

He heard your sniffles died down to soft laughter. He smiles, knowing you taken their words into account. It reminds him of the times when his sister had these kinds of meltdowns. When her hormones would increase her levels of stress and him being the big brother, comforting her in her times of need. Or atleast thats what his fabricated memories tells him.

"When you come back here, lets have a grand big feast together! Surely the food will make you even more happy!" Paimon's back to that baby tone again as she lifts herself off the ground and flew around Aether with a hopeful look that made him sigh.

"Your only suggesting that so you could eat more huh? We might as well have you as the main dish."

"How many times do I need to tell you? Paimon. Isnt. Food!"

Their conversation tickled the back of your throat. These two really know how to make your day better. Maybe whatever made your creations sentient wasnt such a bad thing after all.

#genshin impact #genshin sagau #sagau angst #genshin x reader #sagau genshin #genshin #fixer sagau #genshin x y/n #aether #genshin aether #aether x reader #aether x you

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theunstuffedpepper · 1 year

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Living our best lives over here 🌸

I’ve been off work for the past week and it’s been chock full of 1:1 time with my best little bud. B has been working on finishing the renovation for my new office space/guest room space so while he does that, I’m soaking in lots of quality time with pep. We had rain virtually every day last week which was tiring, but I planned a ton of activities for us each day. We tried out open play at the local gymnastics academy, ran errands, bought new toys, had playdates, had lunch dates and ice cream dates, planted flowers between the rain drops, and when the sun finally came out this weekend, we went to a family festival at a local park which was SO fun.

Potty training went… kind of amazingly? We did the three day method - stayed inside with no pants or diaper and just stayed close to the potty and paid attention to his bodily cues. He took to it really, really well. I’m honestly still impressed with him each day, 3+ weeks later. We’ve got a travel potty topper for public bathrooms and a little travel potty for the car, both of which he’s great using, and we’ve been able to do trips out each day without really worrying much about accidents. What a champ!!

Yesterday we got to meet up with @hey-kayla and her sweet boy for a play date, because by some awesome chance, she has a place literally 10 minutes down the road from us! The boys hit it off so well and had a great time together.. as did the moms. Looking forward to lots more play dates this summer.

This upcoming week promises more sunshine and temps in the 70s.. perfection. As B winds down the renovations, we’re planning on spending the week doing little day trips as a family. Looking so forward to getting to explore our new backyard here in PA. I’m getting to that point in this pregnancy where I’m very aware how easy it is to spend all my time with pep and how easy it is to just go out whenever we want without a ton of effort or planning. Once baby #3 comes along, we’ll have to relearn our new normal and things will inevitably take much more planning and effort for a while. I literally cannot wait for him to get here, but I’m trying to enjoy this time too for what it is.

Grief has been a smaller rock on my shoulder lately, as opposed to the boulder I had been carrying around, weighing heavy on my lungs. I can breathe a bit better it seems. Just trying to take the good with the bad there, doing my best to be understanding with myself when it gets harder. A friend of ours offered to let us borrow their halo bassinet because I threw ours away, and I’ve been buying new nb/0-3 size outfits, because I’m anticipating the first months to be hard enough with things we can’t control - might as well set ourselves up for a lighter emotional load where we can, like ensuring we don’t have to use all the same outfits that we used to dress sweet Pip in. I’ll soon be going through all of those baby bins that got packed up hastily in the worst of the grief fog to make sure we put aside and save the important things that will always remind us of our sweet middle baby, including all our favorite little outfits for him.

I really need to make these updates more frequent so that they’re shorter 😅 I’m sure there’s a ton I’m forgetting as it is. Happy Monday, friends. Enjoy the sunshine this week.

#momblr #pregblr #26w5d #be present #enjoy the small moments #05082023 #operationkay10

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letstalkwhump · 1 year

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Let's Talk Whump No.15

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump, a series of interviews that spotlight the amazing people in our whump community! I’m Malice and I’ll be your host today.

Here today to talk all things whumpy is the fabulous @actress4him!

We’re thrilled to have you here, @actress4him! Let’s start with a non-whump fact or two about yourself!

I go by Jada! I’m a mom of two girls, ages 6 and 8, and it’s a blast watching them play all the whumpy things we did as children and wondering if they’ll grow up to be whumpers, too. When I’m not writing, I enjoy creating cosplay, occasionally drawing, and going on adventures with my family.

Let’s get straight to the point! What does the term whump mean to you?

Anything where the character goes through a hard time, physically or emotionally, or ideally, both! And we’re actually allowed to focus on it and see the beginning, middle, and aftermath.

And how did you find the whump community? Anything specific that made you want to join?

It all started on fanfiction.net with the hurt/comfort tag, then led to AO3, where I learned of Bad Things Happen Bingo and first started seeing the term whump. That prompted me to create a Tumblr account, so that I could participate in all these whump events I was hearing about, and the rest is history!

Has your view on whump changed since you joined? Maybe your choice of OC vs Fandom?

When I first joined I was solely writing fanfiction, though I did write a series with an OC

insert, and I had been writing original stories for most of my life. It took a bit of time and seeing how well other people’s OCs were received on Tumblr to get the courage to go back to writing my own characters and universes.

And now everyone’s favourite bit: let’s talk whump tropes! Do you have nay particular favourites?

Lady whump, if that counts as a trope! Also captivity whump, restraints of any kind, especially gags/muzzles and stress positions, using whumpees against each other, playing on fears, whipping, stabbing, touch-aversion, even better when combined with touch-starvation…I could go on.

They’ve all got to be in my top favs too! Do you mind sharing a couple of your favourite pieces that you’ve written?

Oh my, that’s hard to decide. If I’m allowed to pick two, I’d first say Again, the opening piece for my series Obsession. The writing muse was just flowing that day and I always liked the way that one turned out.

Then from my favorite series, The Shadow of Death, my other favorite piece is I Will Punish Your Friend for Your Failure. That was a bingo prompt that I had way too much fun writing, there’s just so much pain all around for both the characters and so much angst to go along with it!

Damn, I love the lady whump in“Again”! So good. Do you mind sharing what your writing routine looks like?

I do most of my writing at night after my kids are in bed, usually between 10-11pm. I also sneak in writing time while they’re in dance class, though I do more rp during the day than personal writing. I have been known to get struck with a certain sentence that I don’t want to forget and quickly open Google Docs on my phone to add it, but most of the time I need to sit down with my laptop and get the words flowing to get much done.

And is there an easy thing for you to write? Or something you struggle with writing?

Dialogue usually comes easily to me, especially when characters get angry. That seems to be when they have a tendency to take over the plot and do whatever they want!

My biggest writing struggle is battle scenes, which is unfortunate considering the number of characters I’ve created that need to have physical fights fairly often.

GIve us a sneak peak! Is there anything you're working on at the moment?

Currently I’m putting the most work into the Soldier Boy AU with my OC Kamaria. I’m not entirely sure how it’s going to end yet, since it started out as a simple idea that I thought would only take 2-3 parts and I’m now on part 6, but it’s been a fun ride so far.

I’ve also been having fun brainstorming, role playing, and writing a bit of Kamaria’s Royal AU, and am hoping that my brain will let me write another chapter of Liliana’s story sometime soon.

Is there any writing advice you’d like to share?

For me, what works best against writer’s block is having multiple series/WIPs so that I can bounce around to whatever is inspiring me at the moment. It’s when I try to force myself to write something that I’m not feeling that I start getting stuck and bored. And when the block still hits, I do a lot of reading - of others’ works and my own old ones! - and roleplaying and brainstorming with friends and searching for prompts to get inspired again. Most of all, though, just be patient with yourself when the muse is in hiding! It’ll come back eventually.

Finally, shout-out time! Let’s hype some people up!

Shout out to @painful-pooch for being my best online friend and brainstorm partner and for bringing her OC Bruno into existence!

Also to @aprilwaters and @sableflynn for being so welcoming when I was first finding my way in the whump community, and to these fantastic people for being my ongoing rp partners:

@inscrutable-shadow

@peaches-and-dumbs

@ocean-blue-whump

@crash-bump-bring-the-whump

@whumpy-arts-and-crafts

And to everyone else on the Slices of Whump Discord server for making it a great place to hang out!

Anything you'd like to add?

Thanks for this interview, it was fun! And to anyone reading, I love chatting whump and meeting new people who share the same interests, so feel free to stop by my blog and say hello anytime!

Thanks so much for joining us today, @actress4him!

And to all you lovely folks at home, have a whump-derful day!

#whump interviews #whump community #lets talk whump

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runningfrom2am · 7 months

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the sea around us: pt.2, chapter eight

Snowy saw no choice but to run- wondering if Rafe will ever understand that the pogues mean everything to her. JJ gets it though. JJ will always get it.

(jj maybank x f!oc)

(rafe cameron x f!oc)

warnings/tags: violence, drug/alcohol use, smoking, sexual content (if you squint), slowburn, brother’s best friend, (these tags are obv not exhaustive but regardless it’s pretty PG13)

wc: 2.2k

my masterlist, series masterlist, requests

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

"JJ, he's not even gonna see us." I insist, trying to ease my friend's mind.

"But what if he does, then what?"

"We're running anyways, it doesn't matter." I try and convince him, but I can tell he's hardly listening.

"She's right, our only job is to run to the truck when we get the signal and drive off. He won't even know it was us." Sarah adds, trying to help me out.

"Yeah dude, relax." John B says, walking up to JJ and grabbing his shoulders, giving him a slight shake to get him to focus. "You're freaking out because he's Snowy's ex, right? Forget that part. It's just another plan. And even then, so what. She's a pogue. She's with us, he can't take her from us."

I look down at my feet, trying to give them a little space to talk, but I feel Sarah's eyes on me. I feel a tightness in my chest, and I don't even have the time to figure out what it's from. JJ thinking I'm gonna leave them when I never even did that when things were normal? From the impending fear of seeing Rafe again after abandoning him, bloody and choking on the ground? Or maybe that we never officially broke up and then I went and kissed JJ just days later. Or, of course, the gold. I have to focus on getting that gold back for John B.

The boys are still talking when the phone now laying in Sarah's palm buzzes and we all look over.

'Just crossed the bridge.'

We all read the text over her shoulder, and John B nods. "Here we go."

"Yeah." Sarah says, a breathy whisper in her tone as she looks at him.

We peer down the road at T and Cleo's truck, parked and ready to intervene when Ward and Rafe get here with the gold.

"Okay, Snow, here's the plan," JJ says, grabbing my arm gently. "I'm gonna carry you, as soon as we get the signal we're going to run up to the truck and jump in the back. It's easy." He insists, back to his usual self.

I smile at him a little. "You don't have to carry me, I'll be fine." I shake my head, laughing slightly. "We're what, twenty feet from the road?"

"I've been training for this all week!" JJ whispers, nudging me with his shoulder. "But, if you insist, I'll be right behind you."

I lean against him and nod as we watch the road anxiously from the bushes, no one feeling confident breaking the silence. We all need to focus and be ready.

Within a few minutes, Cleo texts the phone.

'no escorts, they'll be here in 5 we're setting up now'

'u ready?'

We look between each other and nod as Sarah texts her back, letting her know we're ready. Or as ready as we'll ever be. I focus on taking deep breaths, trying not to let my mind wander much. I pull up my bandana from around my neck to cover my nose, attempting to hide my face. I put my hands on my knees and stare at the ground, starting to count the pieces of grass that fall over the top of my shoes. Anything to keep me from panicking.

I feel a hand on my back, rubbing it gently over my shirt. "You gonna be okay?" JJ whispers and I nod in response.

It feels like only a few seconds before the barrels and roadblock are fully set up, and we hear the wheels of a truck kicking up gravel as it speeds down the dirt road toward us. We can't see it yet, but I know it's them.

We watch as the truck pulls past us, slowing down as it approaches Cleo and Terrence. I try and get a good look inside, unsure of whether I was hoping Rafe was there or not. Sure enough, he is. His hair isn't styled the way it usually is but instead parted down the middle with loose strands framing his face. He's got a fading cut on his chin and bruises from when Pope almost killed him and I just watched. My heart is pounding in my chest and I can feel it echoing through every bone and nerve in my body. I want to run to him, but I know I can't.

"Roads closed! Nobody's comin' through." I hear Cleo shout, and I try to keep a good view of everything happening without making a sound.

"Hey, careful." JJ grabs me by my waist, pulling me closer to him.

I keep my eyes firmly trained on the truck, my breath hitching as I watch Terrence pull a gun on Ward as Cleo walks up to the other window, just out of my line of sight.

"Hey, Snow, he's fine." John B whispers to me, leaning close into my ear with a bandana covering his face as well.

"You okay, Sarah?" I whisper to her and she nods as well, turning to look me in the eyes. I can see in her eyes that she's scared for her dad and her brother, and I know she can see that I'm scared too.

With a knife to his throat, Rafe helps his dad in throwing the signs and the barrels out of the way. We're seconds from go-time now, so I train my eyes on the truck instead.

"You guys are idiots." I hear Rafe say, and I force myself not to look. I haven't heard his voice in what feels like forever. "Our escorts are right behind us."

"Okay, it's time to go." John B says, looking back at Sarah and I glance around at my friends one more time.

"Go, go!" Terrence says to us, gun still pointed firmly at Ward's head as he waves for us to make our run for the truck. "Hurry!"

John B leads, stepping out of the grass out of view from where Rafe and Ward are laying on the ground, Sarah following close behind. Then me. My turn. I have to go, but my feet aren't moving.

I'm frozen solid in place until I feel two strong arms lift me up, one under my knees and one on my back and suddenly we're moving quickly towards the truck parked in front of us. "Don't look," JJ says, and I'm torn away from where I was staring at Rafe kneeling on the ground, knife still pressed against his neck. He doesn't even know I'm here, and I know that's for the best.

"Sarah?" I hear between the sounds of JJ's feet hitting the road below me.

"Sarah! You're alive!" Ward yells, making me gasp and look back over JJ's shoulder.

"Don't look," JJ says again, just as we reach the truck, stopping behind Sarah and John B.

"Baby, you're alive!" I hear Ward's voice again as JJ puts me down to open the door, and I can't resist turning to watch.

"Hey, stay down!" Terrence yells as Ward stands up, clearly unafraid of the weapon in front of him.

"Stay back!" John B says, pointing his gun up at Ward as well, but he still doesn't seem to care, or even notice.

"Do not talk to her!" Cleo yells, and I watch as she steps away from Rafe. My eyes are locked on him as he turns his head as well, standing up now with no one watching him but me.

It feels like forever before his eyes pass over me, and I find myself pulling down my bandana as he does a double take and locks eyes with me. We just stare at each other, and I can hardly tell from far away that he looks relieved, almost, until the world around us catches up and we both notice at the same time that Ward is trying to rush us, and John B is still pointing the gun at him with his finger on the trigger.

"Stop!" He screams, and it's obvious to me that he doesn't want to shoot anyone.

"Hey!" Rafe yells, suddenly holding a gun that we didn't know they had on them, and pointing it in our direction.

"Get in the truck!" JJ is yelling in my ear, wrapping his arms around me and spinning me so I'm facing away from everything with him standing behind me, attempting to get me to the other side by going around the back.

"No! Rafe, don't!" I can finally speak again, and I know I'm yelling. The only thing I can clearly make out in the sound of everyone shouting is a gun firing just as JJ gets me behind the truck.

"Are you shot?" He's asking frantically, my ears ringing as I try to make it out, mostly having to read his lips as he's grabbing my shoulders and looking me up and down, trying to see if there's any blood.

"No, no I don't think so," I reply quickly. "Are you?"

"No, I'm good. Hurry, get in." He's pushing me again around the other side, being careful to stand between me and whatever commotion is happening up the road where Rafe was standing.

"Was it him? Was it Rafe?" I ask JJ as I sit in the back seat of the truck, instantly ducking down behind the passenger's seat as he climbs in next to me.

"No, no he's fine." He replies, leaning over the center console and banging on the window next to Sarah and John B.

"Get in!" He shouts at the couple as Ward gets knocked onto the ground.

"We gotta go!" I hear John B's muffled voice just before the door opens.

"Go! Hurry!" Terrence's voice is clear now as Sarah climbs in front of me and John B makes a break for the driver's side, quickly hopping in.

"Snowy!" I recognize Rafe's voice and I peek out the window. "Wait! Snowy, wait!" He doesn't have the gun anymore, but Cleo is pushing him back as he tries to get to the truck.

Then, as we start driving, his tone changes. "You're a coward, Sarah!" He yells angrily, and I watch out the window as we drive by him, and I'm closer than I've been to him since I left him laying on the ground of the garage back home. If I reached out the window I could touch him.

"Snowy, stop!" He yells at me, trying to reach for my door but Cleo is stopping him with the gun now pressed to his chest. I watch him as we speed off, looking out the back window and seeing Cleo and Terrence making their run for it as well since the escort truck is quickly approaching.

"John B!" I say, and he turns his head.

"Shit, they're coming. Shit." He says, glancing between the back window and the road ahead of us.

"We've got it! Holy shit guys!" JJ laughs, pulling me into a hug. My arms wrap around him and squeeze him tight. The adrenaline rushing through me is the only thing keeping me from crying and I know that.

"Don't get too excited, guys," Sarah says, turning to glance out the back window as well. I let JJ go and look up at her, and she looks pale. There's a panic behind her eyes that seems almost more frantic than ours.

"Sarah?" I say, and she just turns around. I'm unsure if she even heard me.

"Shit, shit... Come on..." John B is mumbling, his foot pressing the gas pedal to the floor as the truck struggles to gain speed and I sit forward, moving into the middle.

"Sarah," I say again, reaching for her shoulder but I'm interrupted.

"Come on, it's too heavy, Sarah, the gold's weighing us down." John B says.

"Is there any way to make this thing go faster?" Sarah asks.

"I'm going as fast as this hunk of shit can go!"

"What do we do?"

"I don't know- Hold on!"

Suddenly I'm falling over JJ's lap as we take a sharp turn, the whole passenger side of the truck lifting off the ground from the weight.

"Oh my god, oh my god!" I scream, and JJ laughs. He's just having the time of his life, but I won't say anything because it is likely he's just as scared.

We quickly pull off the road and into the tall grass, out of sight from the main road. Sarah and John B both sigh as Sarah lifts her hands above her head.

John B stops the truck and we all freeze for a moment."Now can we celebrate?" JJ asks, leaning forward and smacking his friend on the shoulder.

"Yeah, man... We did it!" He grins, turning and grabbing JJ's hand. "Sarah, we got the gold! Oh my god!"

"Sarah, hey, are you okay?" I finally get to ask, squeezing in between her seat and John B's while he's talking to JJ.

I place my hand on her arm and she looks down slowly, and my eyes follow. Shit. Blood is spilling out through a hole in the front of her shorts, almost dripping down onto her leg. We look up at each other as I instinctively grab her hand.

"Guys," I say, trying to turn and look at the boys next to us but they aren't listening, shouting about how we're going full kook. "Guys!" I say again, loudly this time and they both stop, looking over at me.

"I'm shot," Sarah says, shock fully evident in her voice as John B looks down at her bloody hand.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

A/N;

Hey all!! I was so nervous to write this part ahhh but I think it turned out well! Finallllyyy some more RafexSnowy content I've been waiting on this one lol.

Sidenote; if you don't already follow me on tiktok this is the only thing I post ab on there and I have lots of fun with it. My tiktok is runningfrom2am (same user!) Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!

- R

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

taglist: @boo22sstuff, @madelynie, @username5786451, @peachprairie, @slut4drudy @sadfury, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @cecesrings, @winterrrnight, @bookishbabyyy, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @obxdude, @maybankslover , @redhead1180 , @suzyheartsrafe, @thelomlisrafecameron,

#obx fanfic #rafe cameron #rafe obx #outer banks #rafe fic #obx #rafe fanfiction #rafe x oc #rafe imagine #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fluff #rafe outer banks #jj maybank #jj obx #jj blurb #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine

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aj-2cfu · 28 days

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The frienemy project part two

Making her way in, she looked around the small store until her eyes landed on the headphones she was looking for. Beaming, she made her way to them and attempted to grab them, only for another hand to get it first

She looked up to see that Donnie had also been trying to grab them. He looked down and retracted his hand quickly once he realized they were touching. She backed up awkwardly, seeing his reaction to a small touch, she had reason to believe he didn’t like people being so close to him

“You can have them” she said, going to turn but he stopped her “no, you take them” he murmured, holding them out for her. She shook her head “it’s fine honestly” she told him, holding her hands out in front of her. He didn’t listen and stepped closer, still holding them for her to grab

“You can take them” he said a little louder this time. She backed up to walk away “nah, it’s fine-“ “take. Them” he sternly said, shoving the headphones into her arms and turning around, now making his way out. “Uh- Thank you” she quickly called as she realized what had happened. He turned around and nodded lightly, heading out of the store.

“Well that was surprisingly nice of him” she said to herself, going up to the counter and paying for the headphones. They did cost a bit but she had money to spare.

After she was done, she left the store, now walking to find the exit of the huge airport. She sighed and looked at a map which was on the wall. How did she forget where the exit was??

She sighed and got on her phone, scrolling it when suddenly a message from a random number popped up. It read ‘look behind you :)’

Ava sat still for a moment and then slowly turned around, scared of what she might see. Once she did, she saw the four boys! They were all in the ice cream store, Donnie and Raph at the counter ordering, Leo and Mikey sitting at one of the tables

Mikey made eye contact with the girl and got up, now waving and yelling “Ava!! Come over here!” With him yelling, suddenly everyone looked over at her. She felt her face grow hot from embarrassment. What was he doing??

“Yeah come on!” Leo also yelled. Maybe if she ignored them, they would stop it. But they didn’t, instead they kept yelling towards her until she angrily made her way over to them

“What is wrong with you guys??” She asked, and Mikey smirked, “we had to get your attention somehow”

She clenched her jaw “by drawing attention to me??” Leo shook his head “that part, we didn’t mean to do. That happened on accident”

“Oh you yelled to me in the middle of public?? Why wouldn’t that draw attention?” Ava asked sarcastically. Before Leo or Mikey had the chance to protest, Ava asked “which one of you texted me?”

“Oh that was me” Mikey answered. Ava was confused. She didn’t remember giving him her phone number. “How did you get my number?” She questioned, now suspicious. Mikey almost looked nervous but shook it off, shrugging “you told me on the plane” she furrowed her brows. Had she told him??

“Anyways, you want ice cream?” Leo asked, pointing a thumb behind him towards the counter where they got it

“Ah, no thank you” she said, trying to let him down easy but he wasn’t having it. “Nope. To celebrate you becoming our friend, you get ice cream with us. K’peesh?” Leo asked, arching a brow as he jut a hip out, allowing his hand to rest on it

“But-“

“No buts. What flavor do you want?” He asked, standing and waiting for her answer. She didn’t answer. He smiled widely “that’s how you wanna play it huh?” He questioned, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

She still didn’t answer. He clicked his tongue in amusement, now sauntering his way over to the counter where Donnie and Raph where. Ava could hear him talking with the cashier. Donnie made a glance back at her and then looked back to the cashier.

Leo than came back and handed her the ice cream.. it was pistachio. Why pistachio?? It was literally the worst flavor

Leo’s smirk widened as he watched her reaction. Mikey also was very amused with how she was acting. Ava glanced at the two then her ice cream. ‘Time to put my acting skills to the test’ she thought as she picked the spoon up and took a bite, now forcing it down her throat.

She was extra aware of how her face looked, making sure no form of disgust or discomfort appeared as she grimaced on the inside

Leo shook his head lightly, chuckling “if you don’t like it, just tell me, I’ll get you a new one” he almost sounded.. cocky.

He was doing this on purpose. To get her to agree.

“No I like it” she lied, taking another small bite. “Hmm that’s weird. Why are you eating it so slow?” Mikey questioned, the same smirk on his face. She could definitely tell that these two where related

“I enjoy it more if I eat it slow. Most people do” she said, trying to counter with another lie. Based on Mikey’s face, it didn’t work whatsoever

“You eat fast. On the plane you managed to deck out a whole bag of chips in ten minutes”

She clenched her jaw and forced a smile. How the hell did she not notice that? And how could he tell how fast she ate something by a couple snacks??

“Ice cream is different” she tried to answer with before Leo suddenly said “cookies and cream” she continued putting the ice cream in her mouth

‘I wish this was cookies and cream. I love that stuff’

“Got you” Leo smugly said, leaning over and pointing a finger at her. She raised a brow “what do you mean??” She asked and he made eye contact with Mikey. Apparently they knew something she didn’t.

Leo than took the ice cream, getting up and throwing it in a nearby trash can before going back over to the counter

“Wha-what was that for??” Ava asked, leaning back in her chair, sliding her hands across her face in embarrassment. Just what was Leo doing??

“He’s getting you the kind you like” Mikey answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Really. I would have never known” she answered sarcastically. Leo then came back Along with Donnie and Raph, who sat down at the table with her and Mikey

Leo handed her the ice cream and she took it gingerly. “There you go” he said lightly, sitting down next to Donnie.

Ava picked up the spoon and started to eat it, head down as she tried to shake the hotness on her face. She could not believe this guy.

“You seem to be enjoying this one way more than the other” Mikey said thoughtfully. Ava stopped and sat for a moment

“Oh yeah? How?” She asked. “You’re eating it much faster this time” she stared at him, blank faced. How the HELL did he notice that?? She was sure she slowed down on purpose!

“What’s going on?” Raph asked, and that’s when she remembered that Donnie and Raph hadn’t been around for the whole conversation. She was actually relieved for that. She doesn’t need to be embarrassed in front of all of them. Donnie looked up at her and stared her down, as if he heard his name in her head. She shuffled awkwardly in her seat. The teen than rolled his eyes and looked back to his phone

Mikey saw this and chuckled continuing to eat his own ice cream in from of him.

“So how’s your day been?” Raph asked Ava, staring down at her in her seat. She sighed “oh it would have been awesome if LEO didn’t insist on bothering me”

Raph made a face at Leo “why were you bothering her?” “Well I had to get her to agree to stay with us somehow!” He exclaimed, slurping down his milkshake. “And look, she enjoys being with us!”

“I’d rather be home” Ava quickly corrected and Donnie raised and eyebrow before saying “she’s lying”

Ava narrowed her eyes at him “how so?” Leo asked, leaning over to hear his brother speak

“She enjoys our company quite a bit” Donnie answered, staring the girl down from across the table. Leo chuckled “of course she does. We are awesome!”

Ava felt her face burn up for the 50 time today. She than made her face go neutral and shook her head “as much as I do enjoy y’all’s company Leo is making it very, very hard”

“Well I needed to convince you somehow” Leo retorted back, waving his spoon in the air like he was casting a spell. He had a funny way of expressing himself when he talked

Raph then got Ava’s attention by telling her something’s he liked doing, as his other brothers but Donnie had before. They talked for a bit before Ava announced she needed to head home. A couple of groans and compliments were heard from the group, but they quickly stopped when Ava asked for phone numbers. They had all eagerly done it, except Donnie who refused. She still ended up getting his phone number from Mikey, who added her to a group chat.

They parted ways once again, but this time she felt happier. Now there’s a chance to hang out with them again.

——

Down into the lower levels of the parking lot, Raph unlocked the car and got into the drivers seat. Donnie eyed the front passenger seat only for Leo to grab it first, making him groan as he got into the seat behind Leo’s, Mikey on the opposite side.

“She’s cool” Raph said, looking back and driving out of the place. “I can’t wait to see her again!” Mikey exclaimed, fidgeting with pent up energy. The three could tell that he was definitely going to be skating all night to get it all out

“I do feel a little bad for messing with her so much. I mean.. you could tell she was confused” Leo murmured the last part, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

Even Donnie could see it. And he didn’t normally pick up on things like that.

“She seemed fine when we left” Raph said nonchalantly, now on the freeway. “I hope we didn’t hurt her feelings” Mikey said quietly. “She seems like she could be a good friend. I don’t wanna ruin that” he finished

Leo murmured something in agreement but it wasn’t audible

#rise tmnt #rise donnie #tmnt rise #rise tmnt x reader

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encantowishes · 1 year

Text

Hello! I've been away for a while, but I didn't forget about Encanto Big Bang! Edit: Find the rest of @hectic-hector's illustrations of the pivotal bucket scene here.

Bruno reluctantly lifted the bucket from his head, peering at the activity around him. "You sure about this?" he asked Félix.

His cuñado clapped him on the shoulder, oblivious to the little stagger that followed. "Look at them. Everybody's focused on their own jobs. Nobody's going to pay you any mind."

Bruno fidgeted with the bucket, unsure.

Félix’s eyes fell on the turning bucket. "Okay, two things, amigo. One, you simply can't walk around safely with that thing on your head. Two, you'll draw less attention without it."

Bruno sighed. He couldn't argue with that. "I could take it with me, though. For … luck."

"Of course."

Bruno tossed some salt over his shoulder, slipped the bucket handle over his wrist, and grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow. Drawing a deep breath, he muttered "I can do this" a few times as he moved forward.

The wheelbarrow contained rubble and unsalvageable belongings that had been plucked from the wreckage of Casita. It needed to be moved from the back of the grounds to the front, where a donkey-drawn cart was waiting to carry it away. An easy enough task, even for a middle-aged man who'd spent the last decade laboring mainly to prevent his own discovery. Bruno felt it was time he pitched in, since everybody else was working so hard, and he'd spent the last couple days hiding behind the remains of a wall. (Though he had mixed the spackle.)

The problem lay in the fact that he had to run a gauntlet of other people to bring the wheelbarrow to its destination. People who had blamed their misfortunes on his prophecies. People who had jeered at him and called him "brujo," as though he'd never heard that pun before. People who had thrown guava churros at him, staining his favorite ruana, and wasting perfectly good churros.

Don’t draw attention to yourself. Just act normal. Or as normal as possible. That’s why it’s called “acting.”

“Omigosh it’s him!”

“The guy from the mural?!”

“Isn’t he supposed to be seven feet tall? My abuela’s taller than him.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t look scary. Just tired.”

Bruno tried to focus on the wheelbarrow and ignore the chatter of little voices behind him, until they turned into a trio of little faces in front of him.

“You’re him, right?” asked a little girl with a long black braid and a broad smile.

“‘Him’ who?”

“THE MYSTERIOUS MISSING MADRIGAL!” shouted a little boy who was plainly over-caffeinated.

Bruno lowered the wheelbarrow and folded his arms. Only it took him two tries, because he’d forgotten about the bucket still hanging from his wrist. But once he’d managed it, he imagined he looked at least a little intimidating. “Who’s asking?”

“Us!” the kids chorused.

“Tío Bruno, there you are,” Mirabel said as she sidled up to him. “Good to see you out in the open! I’m supposed to let you know, we’re having lunch with the Guzmáns.”

“Oh, thanks.” Maybe Mirabel could take these kids off --

“Mm-hmm. Gotta run, Isa’s waiting for me.” She waved to the kids and hurried off.

Bruno looked back at the children, who had encroached even closer. And … were there more of them now? Yeah, a boy with wavy hair, and a girl in a straw hat.

Black-Braid Girl pointed at him. “You are the missing Madrigal!” She grinned as though this revelation was the greatest discovery of her life.

“Aren’t you supposed to have green eyes?” asked Hat Girl.

“They are green,” Bruno said, a little too defensively. “Or hazel. Depends on the light.” This was … very weird. Ten years ago, kids this age would have hidden from him, not ganged up to interrogate him. Of course, ten years ago, this crop of kids hadn’t even been born yet.

“No, like spooky glowing green!” Coffee Boy insisted, lifting his hands to the sides of his face and wiggling his fingers with all the kindergarten menace he could muster.

“Do you really see people’s dreams?” piped up Wavy-Hair Boy.

“AND FEAST ON SCREAMS?” Coffee Boy wanted to know.

“No, and -- what? No! Where have you been getting your information?”

“Camilo,” all the kids said together.

Yep, leave it to Camilo to turn Bruno into the local cryptid.

“Look kids, I got work to do. We’ve got a whole house to build.”

“Aww.” They all gave him very sad expressions. Yeah, this just kept getting weirder. They were disappointed he was trying to get away from them?

“I’m not gonna be able to get rid of you kids, am I?”

“Nope!” they chorused.

“Ay. Okay, how about this: If you” -- he pointed to Coffee Boy -- “go get me some coffee, and then everybody helps me with this wheelbarrow, I’ll tell you a story.”

At this, the kids jumped around like popcorn kernels in a hot pan.

Okay, weirder still, but … kind of sweet?

By the time the wheelbarrow was empty, the group had grown by two more boys, one wearing a poncho, and the other a vueltiao hat.

“All right, back we go for more debris.”

“But the story!”

“I can walk and tell a story at the same time. Can you walk and listen?”

Turned out they could. Bruno and his seven small followers passed Pepa, who stared before breaking out into laughter. “Mamá gallina!”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Where were we? Oh, right. So then Jorge says to Hernando: ‘Señor, I hope you weren’t planning on wearing that for dinner.’”

Together, they filled the wheelbarrow with another load.

“Aren’t you going to put anything in your bucket?” asked Two-Braid Girl. Cecilia. Her name was Cecilia. Black-Braid Girl was Alejandra, and Coffee Boy was Juancho. That was probably as many new names as Bruno was going to remember at the moment.

Bruno looked at the bucket, again hanging from his wrist. “Nah.”

“What’s it for, then?” Cof-- Juancho demanded.

“Personal fulfillment.” The sarcasm might be lost on the kids, but it amused Bruno.

“So you’re just going to leave it empty?” asked Hat Girl.

Bruno stared at her for a long moment.

“The next morning, Hernando was awakened by a terrible thunderstorm,” he went on.

As they walked, Bruno got so into his story that he started gesturing, and the kids teamed up to push the wheelbarrow so they could continue walking. He didn’t notice the woman he nearly ran into as they rounded the scaffolding.

It was Mercedes Ozma.

“Bruno Madrigal. I thought you were dead.”

He leaned forward a little, just far enough to rap on one of the wheelbarrow’s wooden handles. “... Yeah, I’ve been getting that a lot.”

“There’s something I need to say to you.”

Bruno took a deep breath. “Look, if it’s about your fish, I’m sorry --”

“It is about the fish! My abuelo raised award-winning goldfish. World-renowned!”

“World-renowned?”

“They were so important to him, that when their village was attacked, he collected as many as he could before my family fled. Only one survived the journey. And when my abuelo passed, the keeping of that fish fell to me. Did you know goldfish can live about thirty years? Mine only made it to nine. And when it died, I felt like I had let my family down.”

“Oh,” was all Bruno could say, though Mercedes’s story seemed oddly relatable.

“Anyway, that’s why I was so upset about it. But it wasn’t right for me to take it out on you, and I’m sorry.”

She held out her hand. Oh, right, he was supposed to shake it. He was still getting used to the whole “human contact” thing again. He accepted the hand, as briefly and as gingerly as seemed polite.

And then there was awkward silence.

“Um, well, glad we could put this behind us?” Bruno offered.

Mercedes nodded curtly. “Good to see you’re not dead.” She carried on hammering whatever it was she was putting together.

So now not only were children flocking to him, but villagers with decades-long grudges were apologizing? At least one, anyway. Maybe the bucket really was lucky.

“Where were we, kids?”

“The hot air balloons were full of pirates!” Alejandra supplied.

“And Jorge almost fell into the Nile River!” Juancho added.

They all continued to work in this manner as Bruno told his story until Julieta came around to collect her brother for lunch.

“Thank you for the story, Señor!” Cecilia called after him. “You’re a good storyteller!”

Julieta chuckled as they walked away. “Did you make some new friends?”

Bruno took a moment before answering. “I’ve spent my life living in a sentient house and seeing the future, but whatever just happened there was also pretty weird.”

“Was it? I seem to remember you telling our friends some pretty enthralling tales when we were kids.”

“Sure, but that was back when I had friends. Back before ‘little and quirky’ turned into ‘old and creepy.’”

Julieta took her brother’s arm as they continued to walk. “A lot of things have changed.”

He mulled this over. She was right. The valley was open to the outside world now. Casita was gone. All the family had been forced to stop hiding their problems, and to open their eyes to each other’s. Mamá was trying -- he could see she was really trying -- to be more open and less demanding. And his long absence, it seemed, had been enough time to change Bruno’s reputation from “menace to be at best tolerated” to “intriguingly odd old man kids willingly approach.” But how long would that last? Because --

“I haven’t changed.”

“You haven’t? Even after ten years in … in your circumstances?” Julieta must’ve been avoiding saying in the walls, just on the other side of my kitchen, where I’ve spent hour after hour thinking you were gone forever.

Or something like that. Bruno hadn’t missed the horror in his sisters’ eyes when they discovered just where he’d been all this time.

He almost said: “After a certain point, one day is pretty much like another.” But something told him that wouldn’t help. So he changed the subject. “Wonder what’s for lunch?”

Clean up and construction continued. Some days were better than others. There were times he needed to wear his bucket and rely on a relative to be the intermediary between himself and a villager. Other times he was able to take the lead in marking out the next section of work.

Being out in the sunshine wasn’t so bad. Working with his hands was meditative. Although sometimes he didn’t meditate so much as start dwelling on things that bothered him. When that happened, he’d find a relative to work alongside and talk to. He was less anxious about the whole “getting reacquainted” thing when it was one on one rather than at big family meals, anyway.

“I heard a bunch of people talking about what might be outside the mountains,” Camilo said, as he and Bruno tiled the new kitchen wall. “And that led to the old folks talking about what they remembered from before the Encanto. Tío Agustín’s parents said in Bogotá there was a kind of show called a cinema. Basically a theater, but instead of a stage, there’s a … big blank space? and the actors are all very big? but they’re not really there? and … well, I didn’t really understand. But I’d like to see one, someday. See what it’s like.”

“Your pá used to make flip books for you, right?”

“Yeah.” Félix wasn’t a great illustrator -- his artistic gifts were more musical -- but he’d doodled dozens of pictures of little guys getting into various stages of predicaments. Many of these were curious accidents, such as a man tripping over a cat and trying to grab a table to catch himself, only to pull off the tablecloth and all the dishes on his way down. Camilo suspected that these doodles were inspired by Agustín. But the point was, if you ran your thumb across the pages so that they quickly flipped past, the little guy looked like he was actually moving.

“Cinema is like flip books. Except instead of drawings, they have a special camera that takes a whole bunch of partly see-through pictures, faster than you can blink. Then they go into a machine that runs all the pictures in front of a light. The pictures wind up on the wall, or the screen or whatever. It’s kinda like shadow puppets -- they look bigger than they really are.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Visions.” Obviously.

“You had a vision about how cinema works?”

“Look, sometimes I see things in visions that are just incidental to what I’m looking for, but then I get curious about them and follow up. Y’know, at some point -- maybe it’s already happened out there -- everybody’s gonna have a box in their house with a window in it, and they’ll use it to see the same kind of shows they have in the cinema. They’ll even be able to see things happening at that very moment somewhere far away.”

“How does that work?”

“That one was a little too complex for me.”

Later, those kids from the other day found Bruno while he was painting a ceiling, and wanted to know more about Hernando and Jorge. He was getting used to kids asking him for stories.

“Are they friends of yours?” he asked Antonio once, since the kids were close to his age.

The boy had hesitated. “Not really. I mean, they’re nice. They always say ‘hi’ to me. But I just …” He turned his attention to the speckled rat in his hands, lightly stroking his forefinger between her ears.

“It’s okay, I understand. Believe me, I do. I was thinking about introducing them to the rats. Think that would go over well?”

“I think so. Can I help?” Kids his age might intimidate him, but a chance to help animals make friends apparently superseded that worry.

“Couldn’t do it without you, kid.”

“Show them Pecosita,” Antonio suggested, holding up the rat. “She’s the calmest.”

The rodent reveal went about as well as could be hoped. Two of the kids excused themselves when they heard what was coming. A third lost his nerve shortly after Pecosita emerged. But nobody screamed or cried. The kids who stayed loved Pecosita. They thanked Bruno for showing her to them.

That night, Bruno curled up on a sofa at the Guzmáns’ house. He and Alma were spending their nights there, while Agustín and Félix’s families had taken the rest of the Madrigals into their homes. It was pretty quiet compared to Casita. The only sound of note was Mariano’s snores from down the hall. Dolores must really like that guy, Bruno mused, if she was prepared to potentially put up with that.

Bruno couldn’t sleep, though his body demanded rest after the day’s toil. He stared at his bucket, sitting on the floor in front of him. Alternately the Luck Bucket, or the Bucket of Personal Fulfillment (empty). And he thought about what Julieta had said, about how so many things had changed. And about all the evidence he’d seen to support that.

“But sooner or later, it’s all gonna fall apart,” he muttered to the bucket. “I’m gonna mess up somehow. I always do. I’ll say the wrong thing, and then I’ll go back to being Bad Luck Bruno the Brujo. The creepy seer.”

Except, no. Because he wasn’t a seer anymore. Couldn’t do it even if he wanted to. He hadn’t felt so much as a tickle of his Gift since Casita collapsed. Now the only thing that made his eyes itch was pollen.

He hadn’t told anyone that he was relieved, though surely no one would have been surprised. Some of his family members were very upset about losing their Gifts. Others seemed to have mixed feelings. Even Pepa missed her weather, at least a little. No rain, no rainbows, after all.

Bruno sat up, since he wasn’t falling asleep, and grabbed the bucket. “Without my Gift, would I have a chance to be something else?” he asked it. “And if I’m not a seer, then what am I?”

Of course, there had always been one thing he’d wanted to do. And given the reception his stories and his rat had gotten among the kids, maybe it was possible.

His mind wandered to the sight of his little rat stage, destroyed in the collapse. Mirabel had warned him not to look, but he had looked. The various cutouts splintered. The stage itself in pieces. All that work, ruined.

“But I can rebuild!” he said, standing. “I will rebuild!” Balancing the bucket on the palm of one hand, he gestured with the other. “Bigger! Better! Brighter! Bolder! Not just for me, not just for the family. I’ll set it up in the plaza where everyone can see. We’ll call it … ‘The Triumphant Return of Madrigal’s Rat Theater!’ How does that sound?”

“Marvelous!”

“Thanks! I --” Wait. Buckets couldn’t talk.

Looking over his shoulder, Bruno saw Mariano smiling his perfect, pearly smile. “Oh, excuse me. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I only got up for some water.”

Bruno very much wanted to put the bucket over his head, but he refused to cause his niece any embarrassment by association. At least, no more than he could help. Slowly, he brought the bucket down to his belly and turned toward the taller man.

Mariano’s smile did not fade. “Dolores has told me about your rats, and the wonderful tricks they do. A rat theater sounds amazing! I’d love to see it for myself sometime.”

“Sure, of course. Premium seats. Just, ah, just don’t tell anybody you saw me talking to a bucket, okay?”

“Oh, was it not your prop? Like in Hamlet?”

“Yep. That’s exactly what it was. Like Hamlet, declaiming ‘to be or not to be.’ To a bucket.”

Mariano got his water and went back to his room. Bruno tried again to sleep, but his mind raced with possibilities. As soon as the new house was finished, he’d get to work on building a new rat theater. Maybe someone had a disused dollhouse he could remodel. His telenovela scripts had, sadly, been lost in the wreckage, but the basics of the storylines were still in his head. Besides, there were always new stories to explore.

He could get his sobrinos involved, too. Make it a family bonding experience. The older ones might not be interested, but the younger three for sure. Antonio would want to help train the rats. Mirabel would insist on making the costumes. Camilo … would probably try to stage a coup to wrest away creative control. Eh, there’d be something the kid could do. Special effects, maybe, or choreography.

Choreography? He was letting this idea run a little wild. The rats, though he tended to think of them as very special, were regular rats. There were limits to what they could learn from him. Maybe if Antonio still had his Gift, something like choreography would be possible, but -- ay, poor Antonio. One of the Madrigals who could honestly rejoice in his Gift, and he lost it after only one day.

Because Bruno’s sacrifice, and even Mirabel’s courage, had not been enough to save the magic. And maybe the family as a whole had a lesson to learn from that. But it was hardly fair to Antonio. Bruno saw how it hurt his sobrino, saw the boy watch sadly as birds flew by without stopping to chat, or stare distractedly into the forest. Bruno would take it all on again -- the burden, the pain, the societal rejection -- if it would reunite Antonio with his animal friends. But this was how it was always going to have played out. He’d seen that a decade ago. All he could do for Antonio now was share his affinity for rats.

Speaking of rats, a blunt-nosed little fellow called Chato emerged from the ruana hood, curious about why his human kept shifting around. Bruno cupped the rodent, and, stroking Chato’s spine with his thumb, finally settled down and began to drift off. If nothing else, he’d give Antonio lights and music and performing rats. Rats for all the kids. Rats for everyone. Buckets of rats.

He began jotting down ideas in a new notebook whenever he wasn’t helping with the new house. Including at mealtimes. He wouldn’t let anyone see what he was working on, not even Mirabel. He’d sworn Mariano to secrecy. He would keep it a surprise as long as he could. Finally, a secret he could keep from Dolores. Finally, a secret that was just for fun.

There were so many hands at work on the new house -- and plenty of those were skilled ones -- that it was not many more weeks before the new house was nearly complete. Bruno was not alone in planning a secret surprise -- all the family members save for one were in on another scheme.

Mirabel had worked so hard, organizing and supporting people, sorting out problems (including arguments) that cropped up -- and hefting her share of bricks, to be sure. Whether she saw it or not, she had all her abuela’s best qualities, and her mamá’s, too. One aspect of the work she had not been allowed to see was a little order that had been quietly placed with the metalsmith.

The moment came. Alma stood with Mirabel, evaluating the almost-complete new house. That was the signal. The rest of the family gathered around. Antonio presented Mirabel the shiny new doorknob, engraved with “M” for Madrigal -- and Mirabel. Then the boy very sweetly walked his cousin to the door, just as (Bruno had seen from his hiding place on the roof) she had done for him during his ceremony. The rest of the family gave her words of encouragement. She was close to tears, and so was Bruno.

Mirabel pushed the new doorknob into place, and a shimmering light streaked over the house. Suddenly it was no longer “the new house.” It was Casita, back to life. The miracle had remembered Mirabel at last.

The familiar moving tiles ushered everyone inside. There, Isabela found she could once again manifest plants of every kind, and Luisa could relocate even the largest of them with ease. Camilo showed off in his usual Camilo way, and Antonio joyously embraced his jaguar friend. Pepa danced under a scattering of hail. Julieta sighed in relief and headed for the kitchen.

Bruno felt that tickling, twitching, itching sensation behind his eyes again. He made a tiny sound of discomfort, and Dolores arrived at his side. “You okay, Tío?”

He rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I lived with it for forty-five years. Won’t take long to get used to it again.”

“The break was nice though, huh?”

He looked at her. “ You okay?”

She smiled in a way that wrinkled her nose. “Honestly, it was driving me a little bit nuts not knowing everything that was going on. Hm! Speaking of which, someone is talking about me right now.”

“Someone called Mariano?” Bruno teased.

She gave him another smile, a sly one, as she walked away.

Dolores was immediately replaced by Mirabel. “Tío, I -- well, I know you said --”

“Look at all this! Look how happy everyone is, look at Casita! This all happened because of you.”

“Oh …”

“I’m so proud of you, Mirabel.”

“As am I,” said Alma behind them.

Before Mirabel could respond, the tiles moved them again, grouping the whole family together for a photo, only to prank them at the last second by throwing everyone askew. That picture would become a favorite.

The party carried on. Even though Bruno had grown more or less accustomed to the villagers, he still wouldn’t call himself a mingler. He found a dimly-lit corner in which to watch people and share snacks with Chato and Pecosita. From time to time, a member of his family would notice he was there and come check on him, and he assured them he was fine. And he was fine. He was happy to see his hermanas and sobrinos enjoying their Gifts.

As for his own … Julieta was right. A lot of things had changed. Just because he could see the future again didn’t mean that it was the only thing he could be known for.

The storytime kids, as he’d come to think of them, found him. “Are you able to do the spooky glowing green eyes again?” Juancho wanted to know.

“If I have a vision, yeah. But I can’t really do one here.”

“If you have a what?”

“A vision. If I look into the future.”

“YOU CAN LOOK INTO THE FUTURE?!”

“... Yes? Did you think my Gift was just glowing green eyes?”

“Well, you said Camilo made up all that other stuff, so, yeah.”

Alejandra elbowed him. “Didn’t you listen to Mirabel? She said he could see the future. You can trust her.”

“Will you still tell us stories?” Cecilia asked. “Even though the house is finished?”

“Actually, I’ve been making plans abAAAUGH!””

A tall, sinister figure loomed in the dim light, wide grin and glowing green eyes prominent. “What’s this I hear?” the figure asked in a deranged voice. “Juancho doesn’t believe in my power?”

“Hi Camilo!” Cecilia said brightly.

Sighing, the caricature of Bruno shifted into Camilo. “You could at least pretend to be scared.”

“You’re both storytellers. The two of you should tell stories together!” Alejandra suggested.

“Well,” Bruno said slowly. “If Camilo wants in on the secret project I’m working on, we just might.”

Camilo raised an eyebrow. “Secret project, you say?”

A few days later, Bruno brought Mirabel and Antonio in on the idea as well.

“Tiny … little … tiny little adorable rat costumes?” Mirabel sputtered, her eyes shining with glee. Abruptly, she ran out of Bruno’s room.

Bruno blinked in confusion as he watched her go. “... And I was hoping you, Antonio, could help communicate to the rats the more complicated things we want them to do. Like if, say, Camilo came up with a dance for them.”

Antonio nodded. “I can do that.” He hopped into his brother’s lap. “We’re a team!”

“So what I’m hearing,” Camilo said to Bruno, while giving Antonio a tickle, “is that you want me to direct.”

“Eventually, maybe,” Bruno conceded. “You have several qualities that could be helpful. So I think for now, stage manager might be the best job for you.”

“Stage manager? I could direct and act, but I don’t think I could be a stage manager and act.”

“It’s rat theater. The rats do the acting.”

“Oh.” That was a clearly disappointed Oh.

“Although …” Bruno pondered. “What if we picked a classic tale. All the roles played by rats -- except! For one character, which will be played by a human. The audience will love it. The juxtaposition of man and beast.”

Camilo grinned. “Will I get to sing?”

“What? Oh, I don’t know if it’ll be you in the role. We’ll see how you do in the audition.”

Camilo clutched at his heart. “Oh, Tío! You wound me! How could you do this to your own flesh and blood?”

Antonio giggled.

“You’re definitely not getting the role like that. That was way over the top, even for comedy. C’mon, I haven't even chosen the story yet, let alone the character. You might not be right for the part.”

“Right for the part? I can look. Like literally. Anybody. ” He shifted into his abuela.

“But can you act like anybody?”

“I’ll have you know my very first role was Christ himself!” He shifted again, into a serene and holy figure. How’d he manage that nimbus?

“That was a nativity play. You didn’t have this ‘pass out the loaves and fishes’ look. You were still in your mamá’s belly, while she played the role of Maria.”

“It still counts!”

“You were part of a costume!”

Camilo fixed Bruno with what was apparently his best steely gaze. “I’ll get that role. Just you watch me, old man.”

“Hey, that was pretty good. You might have a chance.”

He brightened. “Really?”

“Don’t call me, kid. I’ll call you.”

Mirabel came back in, carrying a notebook and a small basket. She halted mid-step when she saw what was before her. “Why is Camilo Jesus?”

From Camilo’s lap, Antonio shrugged, toying with the bucket. “I don’t really know what’s going on.”

Mirabel sat down among them as Camilo reverted to himself. “I’m ready to take notes and measurements for costumes. Hmm, any ideas on how to make a rat-sized dress form?” Everyone looked blank. “Eh, never mind, I’ll figure something out.”

Patient Pecosita was recommended to serve as model. While Mirabel unfurled her tape measure, Bruno told the kids more of his thoughts. A remodeled dollhouse might suffice; otherwise, he had other ideas for how sets might be constructed.

“Ay, more building,” Camilo grumbled.

“Before I start making costumes,” Mirabel said, “I’m going to need to know … well, what costumes to make. What play are we doing?”

“That’s … a good question.”

“We should ask the rats what kind of play they want to do,” Antonio suggested.

“... I’m certainly open to hearing their opinions.” Rats had artistic preferences?

“Pecosita says Torbellino is a great acrobat, and Tesoro would make a wonderful star performer.”

Bruno nodded. “That makes sense.”

“Torpe wants to do his own stunts.”

“Absolutely not. That would be like asking Agustín to make friends with bees.”

Antonio’s eyes grew wide. “That’s a great idea! I’ll go talk to them.” He hurried from the room.

As the door closed, Mirabel and Camilo looked at each other and snickered. After a moment, Bruno cracked a smile, too. As eager as he was to make this vision -- er, idea -- a reality, the truth was there was no rush. Nothing to worry about.

Not yet, anyway.

That evening, Bruno was cornered by his three eldest sobrinas. “You weren’t going to leave us out, were you?” Isabela asked, her arms folded.

“Leave you out? Of what, my will? I don’t really have anything.”

“I heard everything, Tío,” Dolores said. “Your big plans?”

Oh. Mariano had been sworn to secrecy. Dolores had not.

“Well, I … well, I just didn’t think you guys would be interested.”

Luisa looked hurt.

“I mean, because you’re adults! And this is rat theater! Silly Tío Bruno’s silly little rat theater.”

“We know it’s silly,” Luisa said. Her eyes widened. “That is! I don’t think any of us expected it to be serious. But that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t still be a fun thing to do. As a family.”

“Besides,” Dolores said, “Isabela’s got an idea for an addition to the show that we don’t think you’re going to be able to pass up. Why don’t you show him?”

Isabela unfolded her arms and, with a deeply smug look, opened her hands.

“Those are potatoes,” Bruno pointed out.

Isabela began humming. It was an old song, a lullaby. Were the potatoes … were the potatoes moving? At first it was hard to tell, but yes. They rocked back and forth, eventually standing on end. Bruno saw now that what looked like irregularities were vestigial limbs. Each had an indentation that indicated a mouth. And yes -- the potatoes had eyes.

The two potatoes, too, began to sing, in a wordless babble, harmonizing with Isabela. Tottering on their tiny legs. Waving their little arms. Bruno stared at them, mouth agape.

Isabela reached the end of the song, and the potatoes turned and waved to each other.

“Now, I realize they might not look like much. But I’m working on some costumes for them. Something simple, since I know Mirabel will be making rat costumes for you. Hats and ponchos, I thought.”

“Might not … did you just … did you just say they might not look like much?”

“There’s a purple one, too, but,” Isabela shook her head, “it can’t carry a tune.”

“So?” Dolores prompted. “Are they in?”

“Are we in?” Luisa added.

The potatoes, they agreed, would perform the opening act. Bruno wasn’t sure anything he could come up with had any business following singing potatoes, but their performance was too brief to go second. Isabela busied herself training her potatoes and fashioning their clothes. Luisa joined the writing team. Dolores didn’t write much, but she gave excellent feedback, and proved so good at keeping up with everything that Camilo happily gave her his stage manager duties.

Now there was no keeping the project a secret, and soon Félix approached Bruno with an idea for a comedy piece that pitted himself on trombone against Agustín on piano. “You could put us right after intermission,” he suggested. “We’ll get people back in their seats.”

“I suppose that would work, assuming that the play turns out to be a comedy.”

Félix looked across the room at his older son, who loomed over half a dozen rats, doing his very best hammy villain. The rats ignored him in favor of the younger son, who was guiding one rat through performing a pratfall. Nearby, the sentient potatoes had requisitioned Bruno’s bucket for a bath. He clapped his cuñado on the shoulder. “Bro, I sure hope it is.”

Which brought Bruno back to the script. Which wasn’t quite a script just yet, more a collection of vague ideas. Luisa had petitioned for sword fights and unicorns. Camilo insisted there should be a werewolf somewhere. (“Why a werewolf?” Bruno had asked. “Because some kid heard I was a shapeshifter and thought that meant I was a werewolf. I thought it was funny.”) As for Bruno, he’d secretly hoped there might be room for hot air balloon pirates and adventure on the Nile. And as Dolores swept by, she requested some telenovela-style scandalous romance.

“The warrior princess rides in on her unicorn and rescues the mummy from the werewolf?” Bruno asked, trying to get it straight.

“No, she rescues the werewolf from the pirates,” Luisa explained. “And they have a sword fight.”

“Then the princess and the werewolf fall in love, of course,” Camilo added.

“And it’s a scandal because it’s forbidden to love a werewolf?” Dolores asked.

“I think the twist should be that when the werewolf returns to human form, it turns out she’s a woman,” Isabela offered.

“Oh, even better.”

“Why would it be wrong to love a werewolf?” Antonio asked. “As long as she’s not mean. I bet she’d be nice and soft to hug.”

“She might even play fetch,” Mirabel said. “No? What, is that too silly?”

“Where did the mummy come in, then?” Bruno murmured, scanning the pages. “And did Hernando and Jorge just disappear after scene six?” He was sure there was a scene in Act 2 where Hernando was mistaken for a famous wizard, while Jorge disguised himself as a cactus.

After a few days, word began to spread that the Madrigals were planning a big show. Bruno accepted that the secret was out. He did insist, however, that the potatoes remain a secret. Isabela agreed.

“You may have a little problem, hermanito,” Pepa said, stepping gingerly around all the props and pieces spread around Bruno’s room.

“What?” Bruno looked up from the background he was working on, a smudge of paint on his cheek.

“I’ve been talking to people, and I’m pretty sure literally everybody in the village plans on attending your show.”

“But that’s good, isn’t it?” Mirabel asked, sewing a tiny button onto a tiny coat.

“Not if they all want to see what’s going on,” Bruno said, realizing. “Most of our performers are rats! Or potatoes!”

Camilo smiled. “Not to worry, Tío! I’ve got the solution to all your problems. If you’ll follow me.”

Bruno, puzzled, kept his peace as Camilo led him around the upper walkway. “It does mean a change of venue, but I’m just the kind of guy who would donate his own room to the cause.”

When Camilo was five, his magic room had come into being as a theater, and from what Bruno could see, this was still the case after the rebuilding. This wasn’t going to help the problem at hand.

But wait, there was something new, something like a large closet behind the last row of seats. Camilo opened the door, and with a bow, gestured Bruno inside. A light came on. There was a tall tripod in the middle of the room, and mounted atop it, what must be a kind of camera. There were other strange machines in the room as well.

“So these devices are how your future boxes with windows get their instant pictures.” Camilo explained as he started fiddling with switches.

“But we don’t have electricity in the Encanto.”

Camilo shrugged. “Magic house.” He pressed a button on the camera. “Look.”

The control room had a large window that faced the stage. Looking through it, Bruno saw that there was now a large screen hanging in the back, displaying an enlarged image of the proscenium curtains.

“Camilo, I think you’ve saved the day.”

“Well, you know what they say. The show must go on.”

The night of the show arrived. Casita was full of images of butterflies, and Bruno’s stomach was full of metaphorical ones. Clinging to his bucket, he kept peeking out from the wings. In the front row, he spotted the seven kids who had kept asking him for stories, and, as promised, Mariano. Every other seat was full as well. Julieta and Pepa stood at the heads of the aisles, acting as ushers. In the control room, of all people, was Mamá, who had reminded them that she knew her way around an old-fashioned camera. All she needed was someone to show her how to use these new machines. To her credit, she seemed to take to it well.

Everyone else was backstage. Antonio gave the rats a pep talk as Mirabel got them dressed. Félix and Agustín, staying close to their instruments, went over their routine one more time. Likewise, Luisa and Camilo ran through their lines -- as Luisa would be taking on the role of the warrior princess, while Camilo portrayed the pirate captain. (The rats’ attempts at swordplay had been unsuccessful.)

Isabela dressed her potatoes -- in very rustic garments, as she’d indicated -- and complimented Mirabel on her handiwork. “I don’t know how you do it. Your costumes turned out great!”

“Oh … thanks, Isa.” Mirabel might have blushed a little. “The truth is, I made a prototype for each one first.”

Dolores appeared next to Bruno. “I’m not sure a heart rate that fast is healthy in a man your age.”

“What? My age?” Bruno sputtered. “Betrayal!”

She giggled. “But I got you thinking about something else, didn’t I?” She moved on to Félix. “Abuela says she’s ready when you are.”

Félix had graciously agreed to act as the host of the show. His voice could easily cut through the pre-show chatter, and his cheer was infectious. He welcomed the audience to “the Triumphant Return of Madrigal’s Marvelous Rat Theater,” thanked them for coming, and thanked them for all they had done to help the Madrigals after Casita collapsed. He invited them to give themselves a round of applause. Smart.

“And now, without further ado, our first performance of the night: our angel, Isabela!”

Isabela, in her boldest, most colorful dress yet, squared her shoulders and pushed forward a wheeled table covered in bold, colorful tropical plants. The potatoes sat, momentarily inert, in the center. She disappeared to the other side of the curtain.

Bruno held his breath and crossed his fingers as Isabela began to hum. The gasps from throughout the audience told him that at least the vegetables were showing up on the screen. He listened to their high, eerie voices performing even more complicated harmonies than those he’d first heard from them. Isabela introduced each of the potatoes by name and talked a little about how they’d come about by happy accident. This was followed by two more songs before she left the stage, followed by cheers and whistles and deafening applause.

Isabela let out an excited little scream as she returned to the backstage area. “That was amazing!”

“And now for our main event,” Félix announced, “a new play: ‘The Moon Over the Nile.’”

“Break a leg!” Camilo said, as everyone took their positions. Bruno made sure to knock on wood in response.

As the curtains opened, revealing the set, only Luisa remained on stage, saluting with her sword. The play began as the warrior princess encountered the legendary duo, heroic Hernando and his faithful sidekick, Jorge, played by rats (but both voiced by Bruno).

Bruno had been a little worried that Camilo would be upset over not getting the lead role. But the boy had insisted that playing the villain was more fun, plus he loved the song that went with it. Not to mention, he got to ride around in the hot air balloon prop.

As the scenes went on, Bruno found himself wishing, just a little bit, that he’d given himself a role on stage. The kids were clearly having the time of their lives. But … while people treated him differently now than they had before his disappearance, he wasn’t sure the Encanto was ready to embrace him as an actor. If they enjoyed his show, whether or not they realized he’d been the driving force behind it, that should be enough, right?

Now came the intermission. Bruno stopped by the control room to check in with his mother. “It’s going well,” she told him. “This camera, it focuses itself. All I have to do is point it in the right direction.” She noticed what her son had in his hand. “What is that bucket for?”

“Oh, this? Well, it’s um … it’s just … You know what, I don’t actually need it.”

Alma shrugged. “You could set it there by the door, then. Out of the way.”

Bruno did so, and then returned backstage to try to relax for a few minutes.

Time was nearing for the next performance. Félix held his trombone at the ready, but where was Agustín?

Dolores had the answer, of course. She came running up with it. “Tío Agustín went into the control room and tripped over a bucket. He broke his --”

Leg?

“-- nose. Tía Julieta got him healed, but they needed to clean him up a bit.”

“Okay, then we’re just a little delayed. Not the worst thing that could happen.”

“When he tripped, he knocked over the camera. It’s completely destroyed.”

“The camera? The camera that lets us project our tiny little actors onto the screen so people can actually see them? The big dance number is in this half!” He bent over, pressing his hand to the wall, and hyperventilated.

“Tío?” It was Mirabel. “I think there might still be a way we can save this.”

“What?”

“I’ll be right back!”

Agustín appeared, cringing with regret, and his act with Félix began. If the piano playing was a little off, at least they were able to pretend it was part of the comedy of the piece.

Mirabel returned, her arms laden with clothing. “These are the prototypes I made of the rat costumes,” she explained.

“These are … actual, human-sized costumes.”

“Yeah. Well, I never figured out how to visualize a costume for a rat before seeing what it would look like as a human costume.”

Bruno laughed in disbelief. “And you didn’t just draw them?”

“This way I had a three-dimensional view. Anyway, I was already making Camilo and Luisa’s costumes, so …”

Bruno looked around. All his sobrinos were staring at him. “Okay, Mirabel, you’re wizard Hernando. Isabela, you’re cactus Jorge.” He handed them the outfits.

The sisters looked at each other and laughed.

“Dolores … the mummy is a non-speaking role, so you don’t have to worry about projecting your voice.”

“Perfect. Ooh, nice headdress.”

“Can I be a pirate with Camilo?” Antonio asked.

“Aww, hermanito …” his brother began.

“I want to ride in the hot air balloon!”

Camilo deflated.

“You’ll have to make do with your own trousers, pequeño, but here’s a pirate hat and jacket.”

“What about the werewolf?” Luisa asked. “I still need a werewolf to rescue!”

Ah. Yes, Bruno had thought he’d felt something furry at the bottom of the pile of costumes.

“Camilo? You wanna prove that kid right?”

“Nah, it’s all yours, Tío!”

“Isabela? It’s your song.”

“How could I pass up cactus Jorge?”

“But the werewolf …” He looked at Luisa.

“Don’t worry, Tío, I can lift you just as easily as the rat.”

“No, I know that. I was just thinking about the duet.” The song had been written for Isabela’s voice. Bruno wasn’t sure he could pull it off. But as for the mask … that, he would have to pull off.

But there was no time for doubt. Félix and Agustín were near the end of their act. It did seem to be going well, with the audience laughing in all the right places. Bruno pulled on the werewolf costume. “Here goes nothing.”

“My friends,” Félix announced, “in Act 2, the roles previously played by rats will be taken over by their understudies. We return to ‘The Moon Over the Nile.”

Swords clashed. Chashes ensued. Mysteries unraveled. The big dance number went off without a hitch, primarily thanks to Dolores. Camilo milked his villainous reprise for all it was worth. Mirabel’s Hernando was a surprisingly good imitation of Bruno’s. Isabela’s Jorge sprouted extra cacti, which earned her laughs, though Antonio’s ad libs got more. Luisa really did haul Bruno around with surprising ease.

Then came the duet, “When the Moon Disappears in the West,” in which the werewolf’s human face was revealed in the second verse. There were gasps from the audience. Were they negative gasps, or just surprised ones? But at the end of the song, Bruno and Luisa received a standing ovation.

Bruno stared toward the audience, straining, unsuccessfully, to see against the stage lights. Was that applause really for him? Well, it was for Luisa, mostly, surely. But nobody was booing or throwing things at him. Not a single wayward guava churro in sight.

The rest of the play was a blur, until the curtain call. Bruno was the last to be called, and Félix sure was taking his time with it, laying on superlatives like “the man who made it all possible,” “the creative genius” and “one of my favorite cuñados.”

As he stepped through the curtain, Bruno wished he had his bucket to fidget with. It had tripped Agustín, true, but it had also protected Bruno when he’d had to plunge headfirst through the wall of the collapsing Casita. The bucket was a two-edged sword.

Isabela draped a garland of flowers over Bruno’s shoulders. He took his bow. The applause did not stop. This was … this was for him. Actually for him. The whole village was here, and they could see Bruno as something else besides a bad luck prophet.

And so could he.

#encanto #encantobigbang #it's me amrys

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1moreoffkeyanthem · 3 months

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because i am sad, don't have my nina meds and have the personality of tissue paper rn, will you take pity on me, pretty girl, and pray tell what the locations look like in ur fics? like how you imagine south park looks, maybe stan and kyle's old bed rooms, the sp survivor haus? starks pond, the vibes and stuff -- you can be as hyper specific as you want i really like detail and visualizing things <3 also you

Melda Tâe I sincerely hope this is a bright spot in the Sadsack!!! This is such a great ask too like what does the HWB elven palace look like? The train station in WGSIES? The Broken Bottle Quartet apt complex? Heidi’s coffee shop in ATLCTS? The bistro where ojv Craig and Kyle have Nerd Boy Time? The TWITR bunkhouse?

And I’ve said on multiple occasions that I suck an unfathomable amount of ass at actually putting setting descriptions into my fics. Not because I’m picturing scenes playing out in a blank void, or bc I’m not picturing things clearly, but 1) I fully convince myself that no one wants to read my boring drawn out descriptions, which is stupid and I’m aware of that bc I LOVEEEEE vivid imagery when I’m reading 2) I often forget that no one is envisioning what I am without visual explanations lmfao it’s just so There to me I forget my readers don’t live in my cursed brain 3) I have such a habit of getting too into Witty Banter™️ and I’ll write so much dialogue with the occasional action and realize I haven’t said shit about what the setting looks like

But boy oh boy do I have specific pictures in mind! Especially regarding settings. (God I need to make a fuckin Pinterest omg the OJV board alone would go stupid)

I’m gonna be so fuckin fr right now, I have way too many AU’s and I will be unhinged abt a lot of them, so, below the cut!

So, as a surprise to absolutely no one, I’m starting with the OrangeJuiceVerse!

That bizarre town our kids grew up in is very typical suburbia, with neatly arranged near identical houses and blacktop roads that the snow plow goes through the same time every morning. Downtown holds the major businesses and across the tracks, not even a block over from the main neighborhoods, is the handful of “ghetto” houses, right by the woods. And through those woods, with a small single lane street that is far too narrow and winding to be safe? Stark’s Pond. The clearing in the tree canopy that the parking lot provides is the best stargazing spot, far enough away from the minimal light pollution that a tiny mountain town emits. It’s not just a pond, more of a park, with a field next to the water that’s a well traversed snowball fight battleground and a single bench under an ancient oak tree. The pond freezes and that’s how you know winter is truly underway. Kids slipping and sliding on the ice with no adult supervision is the standard here. In the summer, the water is still so cold, fed by mountain runoff. The surrounding shore is rocky and the m5 regularly compete to see who can find the coolest stone in the gravel.

There’s an elementary school, middle school, and high school, all in the same block and sharing a parking lot. Makes it easy for bus drivers and parents dropping off their kids. The high school is WAY bigger than is warranted for how small the town is, and there’s a separate building for band and av club. The football “stadium” isn’t much, the bleachers are only a few rows high and the field house is little more than a locker room, the concession stand is tiny and only run by student council members, and the cow painted into the turf over the 50 yrd line is lopsided. The gym where pep rallies and volleyball and basketball games are held has better seating, but football is a big damn deal in sp and the whole town is crowded around the track fence if they don’t get a seat, cheering on the hometown boys on cold October nights with nothing but fireball and ridiculous amounts of school spirit in their systems.

Stan and Kyle practically live at each others houses growing up. They each have a “Super Best Sleepover Drawer” in the others rooms and when they were younger and still the same size? No one could tell who actually owned what clothing. Like, y’all dear god you are more intertwined than your fingers holding hands. Stan’s room is a messsssss! Especially when he’s not doing well mentally. And he holds on to every stray item so his dusty shelves are cluttered as hell. His pillows are flat as shit. Nothing in his closet has been folded properly in years. The only organized thing in that room is the record collection, the sheet music folder, and the dnd character breakdown. Kyle has stress cleaned Stan’s room before. And (think You Belong With Me music video) THEIR WINDOWS FACE EACH OTHER!!! Kyle’s room has so much of the same kind of decor as Stan’s, with the posters and the figurines and the wall of nostalgic Polaroids, but he’s so much more organized. Both the boys have Kenny Paintings, (Stan is the one mentioned in this and Kyle’s is one of him as the elf king when they’d play as youngsters) and Kyle’s is hung level on the wall and Stan has his propped on his desk.

Ohhhh man the SP Survivor Safehouse, I described it some here and it really is such a College Kid House!!! They found the cheapest place to rent close to campus that would fit the 5, and it’s a SHITHOLE! It’s old as fuck and falling apart, the foundation is crooked, the blueprint must’ve been drawn by someone with severe distraction problems because for a place that’s not all that big, it’s labyrinthine in its random layout and the out of place way too high to reach ledges and the fireplace but no chimney and the ridiculousness of the narrow backyard, doing laundry in that house is a NIGHTMARE like the washer is downstairs and the dryer is in a separate room upstairs that logistically should be a bathroom. The kitchen tile is so old and cracked, and there’s this weird half wall facing the living room with a window? Also the walls are thin as hell and that staircase? Good god. Steep as fuck, tilted to the left, no railing, everyone has fallen on the Widowmakers multiple times. The garage door doesn’t work. The water heater is older than god. But this is their house, and they make it work.

I also want to describe the waterfall from How We Began, as specific and random as that is lmao. Think Multinoma Falls in Oregon, with a long trail to the top and no man made bridge over it. And it freezes like that one waterfall in narnia. Completely solid, snow and frosted trees on both sides at the summit, just the perfect place to meditate and reflect, because the reflection off the ice is like a rippled mirror. (Actually and so fr I need art of chapter 12 so bad rip) that place is BEAUTIFUL with the mountains in the background, the icicles refracting light, pine trees with needles dusted with snow, large rocks overlooking the edge of the cliff and the forest surrounding it!!!

Oh damn also the Big House in The Webs In The Rafters is the most eerie looking house of all time. At the end of that twisting gravel drive, to the left of the western pasture, sits this giant black mansion. It looks wayyyy too gothic to be on a ranch. And most of the rooms are unused, that place feels cold and dark even when the farmhands are in for dinner at that huge table in the dining room. The upstairs office has all these strange carvings in the wooden walls, Craig’s massive granite desk is right in front of the window that sees the whole front part of the land. And both that house and the bunkhouse are ancient as the “haven” itself. The walls have crawlspaces big enough for a full grown person to fit in. Like there’s a maze in the walls. The upper pasture isn’t visible from the master bedroom at the back of the top floor, and there’s a tree by the pond that Butters’ ducks live in that’s the first thing the morning light touches. That spot, where Ken and butters had their first kiss in chapter 16, is the only place that doesn’t feel stifling on the entire land.

Dude the haunted house in In The Truly Gruesome! It is legit the most cheesy haunted house of all time, set up in what is essentially a double wide trailer, no bathroom, no kitchen, barely a tiny breakroom at the back, the decor is the cheapest spirit Halloween shit imaginable and just lame shit like a bowl of peeled grapes that are supposed to feel like eyeballs in the mad scientist area. That front office with its plywood walls and plastic door is the most unromantic setting for a love confession, but Stan and Kyle made it work. The breakroom “furniture” is a random hodgepodge of booths from a closed McDonald’s and tables someone found on the side of the street. The mini fridge has nothing in there but a moldy jar of pizza sauce and a single half drank mellow yellow. This place is absurd. I love it.

AND I loved this ask! You always send me such great things my beloved omg never stop! <3

#this took longer than it should have #because I thought about Hades!Craig and got distracted reading WGSIES #and then i cried #because that fic is sad as hell #also I’m a pussy #but yeah #asks #south park #headcanon #fic writing #au’s #scene descriptions #my shit #OrangeJuiceVerse #other works #style #them

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clatoera · 1 year

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Always Remember We’re Burned For Better Chapter 8: Would’ve. Could’ve. Should’ve.

...hey guys. Better late than never.

I had a big test last week and so it pushed this off. Full transparency that for the next 6 weeks I am DEEP in board preparation mode and may not be as reliable with weekly uploads (i’m still hoping to, but want to be transparent with y’all!).

Anyway. This is..sort of the last moment of autonomy they get. Theres a moment in here that came as a shock to me when I went to write it, because it was never part of the original plot, but once the time came..there was no way around it. This chapter is when original plots started to go awry and have taken on a shape more natural to writing it.

AO3

Masterpost

Title from, OF COURSE Taylor Swift’s Would’ve. Could’ve. Should’ve due to the reminiscing and wishing of how life should have been for them while they exercise their last big of autonomy.

And of course, this one is for my bestie who literally puts up with more clato content than anyone I know with our 47 aus across multiple platforms @ohhowwehavefallen. ily bestie. and also @afterfawn who arguably inspired this chapter to happen the way it did. You opened my eyes to what needed to be done.

If I never blushed then they never could’ve whispered about this

“Change of plans.”

That's what they had said to them, when the day before the victory tour of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, a nicely dressed capitol official had arrived at their door. As they were given fifteen minutes to get ready to go, the train was waiting to take them to the capitol for a special engagement. A special two-week long feature on them, on becoming Victors in succession, on how honored they are to be formally mentoring together for the first time into the quell.

How convenient it would be, to display the two of them as the pride and joy of the Capitol– the ideal victors, really– in the exact timing of the victory tour.

And oh, that role they played so so well.

Cato Hadley, the golden boy of District Two, with all the pride in the world for his win and his district, so proud to reminisce and relive the highlights of his games. Truly, there was no one in the country more designed to win the games than Cato had been. The size of him, the look of him, the brutality in his soul–one would think he had been bred for it.

Then there was Clove Kentwell. Small, psychotic, and one of the best killers in the history of the games, save for her own mentor. Shining, shimmering, golden child had never been Clove’s take, and even now they did not push such an unbelievable angle for her. They reminded the world of a daughter abandoned to the games, a girl who went into the games to prove her own worth and that of her mother. A girl who slaughtered her opponents like animals and basked in their blood. She had not been bred for these games, no, but she had been born for them.

Seeing them side by side though, oh it was almost too easy to forget about the star crossed love story from twelve.

It’s as if the blood on their hands mixes when their fingers are intertwined together.

It’s a constant performance in the Capitol. A possessive arm around her shoulders, a smirk on her face, a warning to anyone wanting to come for them or come between them. His dazzling smile is practically a challenge, daring someone to come challenge the favorite victor over the thing he values more than his title. They can play up possessive, they can play up the crazy. After all, it truly is the very core of who they are. Especially now, knowing what is at stake, Cato and Clove can put on quite the attention stealing show.

All that to say, the performance would still never touch the real thing.

Memories feel like weapons

Clove’s ready to rip the hairpins out of her skull, practically peeling her skin off as she desperately tries to reach around to tug the zipper down on the back of this cocktail dress. It’s as heavy as she is, barely to the middle of her thighs and covered in heavy blue beading. It doesn’t escape her that it’s the same midnight shade as the dress Katniss Everdeen is currently wearing back in Clove’s own district.

“Want some help with that?” Cato stands in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest with that smug look on his face, closing the distance between them before Clove could even say yes. His hands find her shoulder blades first, trailing down together to the clasp at the top of her cocktail dress, one deftly unhooking before the other pulls the zipper down in one quick tugging motion.

“Yeah yeah, I know Cato, the best part of the night is taking the dresses off of me.” Clove mumbles, sliding her arms out of the straps and letting the dress fall to her feet. She side- steps out of the pile of fabric and beads, grabbing Cato’s shirt from earlier in the day off of the sink and sliding it over her head. She ignores his pout as she covers back up, bringing her hands back up to freeing the confines of her hair.

“Well it’s more fun if you keep them off—”

“Shut up and start helping with my hair.” Clove rolls her eyes, nimble fingers working quickly to pull the dozens of pins, pieces of her dark hair falling into her eyes in little ringlets. She feels his much larger fingers joining hers, far less deft than her own, but a welcome aid regardless. She sighs audibly as the bulk of her hair comes tumbling down past her shoulders, curls twisted in each direction to frame her face

“Don’t you think it’s a little weird?” Clove asks, making eye contact with him behind her through the mirror, before picking up her comb and going at the ends of her hair first. “That we’re here and they’re there?”

“I mean it’s their tour, Clove. Of course they’re in Two.” Cato wraps his hands around her waist, propping them on her hips, before he tugs her back against him as he teases her lightly.. “I’m sure they’re not taking over as the pride and joy of Enobaria, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“It’s not that. I met everyone last year. I met Johanna and Finnick and Glimmer on my tour. Did you meet them the year before, during yours?” Clove cranes her head to look at him, an eyebrow raised inquisitively. “It feels…I don’t know it feels off..”

“I guess I did, yeah. Maybe it’s just us? Since we have the special….assignment.., from President Snow?” Cato suggests, shrugging nonchalantly, clearly unbothered. “Enobaria and Brutus are probably there.”

“I didn’t see them though, in the press clips, and you know you can’t miss Brutus in a crowd.” Clove sets down her brush, content with having brushed her wild curls down to fluffy waves. “We aren’t invited to the party this Friday, either. Here in the capitol, you know, the final night? And Glimmer and Finnick and Johanna were definitely there last year, I can remember Marvel eating those little cookies all night.”

“It’s probably just me and you, Clove…”

“I haven’t seen anyone. Glimmer hasn’t mentioned seeing us this weekend. There’s something weird going on.” Clove pushes back off the sink and uses it as momentum to twist in his arms.

He immediately lifts her to sit on the edge of the sink, standing between her spread knees. “Are you really that upset about not getting invited to the victory party for Twelve? I don’t know about you, but i’m not expecting them to be a good time to hang around. Just look at her. She always looks confused.”

“There's just something strange about it, Cato. There's something just not right happening..”

Cato ends her line of questioning with hands sliding up the sides of her skin under her shirt and lips on her throat.

Give me back my girlhood, it was mine first.

“I told you something was going on.” Clove whispers lowly, despite the fact they are alone in the train car. There’s a distrust in her, a hesitance, bred from whatever the fuck was going on in the Capitol to the point they were ushered out quickly and without ceremony earlier this afternoon. “They don’t even want us in the city at the same time. That’s the only explanation.”

He’s come to agree, after they were hustled out exactly in time for miss girl on fire and lover boy to make their grand appearance into the Capitol. “Maybe they don’t want them compared to us directly. Can you even imagine fire bitch next to you? She’d be snuffed out to coal.” Cato sprawls out on the Capitol grade couch , arms over the back, legs spread, as Clove paces behind him. “You’re not going to get home any faster if you’re trying to walk there.”

“Do you think we did enough?” Clove hushes, leaning her elbows on to the couch next to him so she once again ensures it was for his ears and his ears alone. Sure, they were alone in the car, but the Capitol it seemed was always watching. “Do you think we were distracting enough? Do you think, you know..everyone’s safe?”

“Noone was even looking at them by the end, I swear. They smiled and waved, we smiled and waved. They did an interview, we did an interview. She wore some silly district twelve-style dress, you looked so good they won’t even remember her name. We did great, we always do.” Cato’s cocky, that's a given, but there's an edge to his voice that he can’t dare acknowledge, cannot dare entertain the concept of. He won’t even consider the alternative, of not being enough, and what exactly that would mean for his family back home. “We’ve kept up with them, and then some. Everyone knows how much better we are.” How much more genuinely in love, really.

“I just want to go home, Cato. Forget about Fire Girl and Lover Boy for a few months. Can you even imagine having to meet them when they start mentoring this year? She’s got the personality of a rock.” Clove, placated by the assurance, flips on the television in the compartment. “I think it’s their interview with Caesar tonight, right? Wanna bet they’re going to sit two feet apart and barely touch hands?”

“They’ve been upping their game. I think they were only a foot apart last night in One.” Cato pulls her over the edge of the couch, catching her in his lap. “How could you ever worry about them not being distracted by us Clove? These people believe they are in love. If they fall for that..well I don’t really worry that they can’t look away from you and I.”

Clove relaxes against him, tucking her feet into his lap and her head into his shoulder. “I just…I hope our life can be ours again.” It goes unsaid, that she wishes their life events could be theirs once more. The endless questions about their future together in the Capitol had made her stomach turn. Not because she didn’t want them– no, in fact she thought of what their life together could be more often than she’d ever admit out loud– but because she wanted them on their own terms.

“I think they’ll be settled for a while. At least until the Quarter Quell.” Cato rubs his hand over her knee, deciding to focus in on whatever Caesar Flickerman was prattling on about this time.

“You think they’ll drop this act eventually?” Clove asks, gesturing with a nod of her head towards the screen where Caesar was playing a countdown of the best moments from District Twelve’s tour together. “Or do you think they’re in it forever.”

He’s looking at her, about to make an off handed comment about them being in it until the lights are down, when he sees the color drain completely out of her face.

She goes completely pale, someone shocking considering her already fair undertones, all of the blood rushing out of her skin. He doesn’t even turn his head to see what’s spooked her, only noticing the way her chest heaves with increased effort of breathing.

“Babe..” He reaches for her, feeling the way her hand is clammy and shaking just enough that she wouldn’t be able to land a perfect bullseye. And for Clove, that’s significant. “What's wrong–”

Clove grabs his chin and directs his gaze towards the television, where Peeta Mellark is on one knee and Katniss Everdeen is faking elation.

No.

This was not how it was supposed to be. This was not how it was supposed to happen for Cato and Clove.

“What are you looking at?”

Clove jumps at the intrusion, nearly dropping the little toddler juice cup in her hand. “Fuck, Cato–” Normally, no, he could not have snuck up on her like that. Cato moved more like a herd of elephants than a gazelle. “You scared me.”

“Clearly. I’ll have to remember that one for training tomorrow. Here. She was looking for you.” Cato slides his toddler sister at Clove, who takes the nearly two year old right to her hip like she had done it her whole life. She supposed technically when it came to his little sister, she actually had.

“You just hate to be the bad guy and put her to bed. Your parents are gonna be pissed if they come home and she’s awake again.” At seventeen they had spent more than their fair share of nights off from training watching his sister, both as the excuse to have the house to themselves, but also to get out of the academy for an evening without too many questions.

Cato had the free pass whenever he wanted, seeing as she was his own little sister, but no one chose to question too hard why his mother sent special requests for Clove Kentwell to come watch her toddler.

It wasn’t like the girl screamed ‘kid friendly.’ Unless, of course, they wanted a toddler capable of impeccable aim and precision.

Clove turns to head back into the living room, resting her head on top of the light curls of Cora Hadley when Cato stops her.

“What were you looking at?”

“Huh? Oh, your parents' wedding picture. I realized I've never seen one before.”

“You’ve never seen my parents' wedding picture before? I wouldn’t think you had.”

“I’ve never seen any.” Clove shakes her head, stopping to point at the specific photo she had been enamored by. “You look just like your dad, it’s cute. And your mom, wow, she’s always been beautiful too.”

“You’ve..never seen a wedding picture? Like..any?” Cato pauses, glancing up at the entire wall filled with photos, from his parents wedding to his childhood in sports to the day he entered the academy. “They have lots of them, there's a whole book of them somewhere.”

“I don’t know anyone who’s gotten married. My grandma didn’t. My mom died before she got the chance. Enobaria isn’t…yep that's everyone.” Clove shifts Cora to her other side of her hips, subliminally patting the middle of her back in a steady, unceasing rhythm. “It’s sweet. To see people end up so happy. You have good parents, Cato.” Clove kicks her foot in the general direction of an empty frame, trying desperately not to jostle her boyfriend’s sister awake. “What’s that one for?”

“I know I do.” Cato agrees, testing the water with a gentle hand on her shoulder, guiding her to the living room and associated couch. He glances at the frame in question. “I think when I win the games? Who knows, maybe they’re saving it for my wedding picture.”

Clove laughs, actually laughs, at the insinuation that they have an empty space just for a future event like that. It’s still so peculiar to her, people having such hope for an unguaranteed future.“Are they hoping to marry you off when you get home? Seems silly, to save space like that, for something so far away.”

“Hey, it’s a sacred spot on the wall. Not just anyone makes my mother’s photo wall, you know. It’s a place of honor. Maybe they just want to wait for the right thing…come on, Clove, she’s going to fall asleep on you then weigh you down.”

“I’m not that small Cato, I can handle her. My mother handled me.”

“I know, I know, just..come on.”

There’s always a silence, when it comes to talking about their parents. When they talk about the mother she does not nor will she ever know, who became a mother at the same age Cato became a brother. Or of the healthy, happy home he has and she will never know.

Today though, the silence is comfortable.

There’s the air of longing, one that's settled between them recently and does not seem to go away.

Cato thinks it could be his ever approaching games, coming within the next few months and threatening to take away this small pocket of peace they have curated in his parents home and amongst each other..

Clove doesn’t fight him when he sits exactly next to her on the couch. Between the two of them, there are no secrets for the feelings they share, or the things they do when they are alone.

It’s not discussed per say, as feelings have no place in the arena, but also it’s strictly prohibited (as a result of a different Kentwell girl, seventeen years prior). Cato and Clove…they know, though, what exactly is between them.

However, sitting close enough that his parents could see them if they came home at any moment, that was…well that was risky.

And now, as they sit side by side, with their shoulders touching, his kid sister sprawled out across them both, neither cares to move away from the other.

““Will you invite me? You know, if they really do decide not to let us go together.” Clove asks, stifling a yawn into the back of her hand. It had been the current talk amongst trainers, she knew. Sending them separate, double their win. Maybe..Maybe they wouldn't completely mind that anymore. Her other hand strokes back the baby soft curls of his sister as she sleeps, soothing the little blonde to stay asleep for her babysitters.

“Huh? To what?” Cato mumbles, grabbing the blanket off the edge of the couch and covering all three of them in it. When Clove’s tired head comes to rest on his shoulder, her weight relaxing into him, Cato further tests the waters by wrapping his arm around her waist to hold her close. When she does not push him away, his hand comes to rest on her hip.

“Your cute little wedding. Invite me, not like you have many other friends. If you don’t, I'll never get to see one.” love murmurs into his shoulder, twisting her body so she was fully relaxing into him now.

“Oh if that happens... you’ll be there.” Cato promises, a smile obvious in his voice as he tugs her in closer. “You’ll be there.”

Clove hums in response, not even formulating a verbal reply before she is asleep against his side, him following not long after.

When his parents return a few hours later, they find the three of them still fast asleep together on the couch, Clove holding Cora and Cato holding Clove.

The photo his mother takes of the three of them in that moment graces that empty picture frame a week later.

“I-it’s okay, Clove.” Though he does not even believe himself, and the sound of his voice shattering is enough to pull her spiraling down with him.

“They’re taking this from us too, Cato.” Clove drops her hands, before burying her face in them with a heaving sigh, nails clawing into the skin of her hairline in a desperate attempt to ground herself..

“Maybe we won’t have to-” Cato consoles, though he knows it’s useless. Of course they will. They will lose this decision, too, and likely every single one that will come after it.

“Of course we will! You know it!! They’re taking this, too!” Clove finally chokes out, a sob wracking through her body. “Our lives aren’t ours anymore. Our bodies aren’t ours anymore.They’re going to force us to get married to distract from those two–”

“We can buy some time. We say we are waiting until the Quarter Quell. That was our original plan anyway, remember?” Cato pulls her to his side, helpless as they process and realize exactly what this means. If they could force them into this, what else can they make them do?

“That was when it was our plan, Cato. Back when it was about me and you.” Clove wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand, brushing her hair out of her eyes with one hand. “It’s not that I don’t want it. I just wish it were still our choice.”

The train car goes dark as they enter a tunnel, and a crude red painting of Katniss Everdeen’s token flashes by.

Lord you made me feel important

“I’ve been thinking.” Cato announces to the open air of their bedroom, Clove tucked up against his side, desperately trying to drift to sleep. The tension of the train ride and the resulting realization of their futures has permeated the aura of their home ever since their return just a few hours ago. “And hear me out before you say no, okay?”

Clove just nods, giving him her full and undivided attention. She is out of tears to cry, out of anger towards Snow and the Capitol and the undeniable rage she feels towards them for taking her life from her. She is numb. She’s given everything and she is simply numb.

She may be alive, but they’ve taken her life.

“They’re going to make us do this. And I mean..I’ve always wanted to do it, anyway. On our time but. Still. I've wanted this for a long time.” If Clove didn’t know better she would think he almost sounds nervous, almost unsure, out of character for the boy she has never known to be anything but the most confident person in the room.

Clove props herself up on her elbows, quirking her head at him. She has a feeling she knows what's coming, what words are about to pour out of his mouth and she nearly kisses him to stop them.

“We should get married. Here in two. Just for us. They’ll make us do it in the Captiol, I know. But we should think about it, I think, Clove. Even if it’s just for us. Let us make the decision for ourselves.”

“Yes.” Falls out of her lips, despite no actual question being asked. She is in full agreement, to all things he had said, and suddenly her heart races in a different kind of way. “Let's do it. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, Clove?! I just meant before we had to do it for the cameras.” Cato turns to face her, brushing her soft hair back behind her ear. “You always said I'd have to beg on both knees. We don’t have to rush.”

“No. Let's do this. Tomorrow, Cato.” Clove brings both her hands to cradle his face in her hands. “I want this to be ours as long as possible. We’ll give them their show later. This is ours.” She leans in to lean her forehead against his, noses just grazing each other. “I want this to be ours.”

“Should we tell Enobaria and Brutus? They’ll never forgive us if they miss it. Maybe my parents and Cora..” Cato brushes his thumb over her cheek, unable to wipe the boyish smile off of his face. He will be married this time tomorrow. To Clove.

“No. We can’t tell anyone.” Clove shakes her head, and her heart aches at the thought of the only other person who loved her not being there on what would arguably be one of her best days of life. “When we do it on television..everyone has to think that's for real. Noone can know. We can’t…we can’t put other people in danger, too, Cato.”

It is unspoken but understood between them, that if no one else knows no one else could be brought down in the fury of the Capitol if they were to find out.

This would protect them.

“When we do it in the Capitol they’ll all be there. Cora can wear a little pretty dress, Enobaria can boss people around. It’ll be good for them, then. This is for us though, Cato. This is ours.” Clove kisses the corner of his mouth, unable to stop the silly little smile from taking over her face. “I didn’t make you beg on two knees, but you should still ask, you know.”

Cato gives her a grin she cannot define between elated and smug, and still holding her face in his hands he begs the question. “Will you marry me then, Clove?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Clove is halfway into a laugh when his lips silence hers.

When he pulls away he has the most brilliant, shining smile on his face. “Look at the time, Clove.”

“Twelve thirteen?”

“It’s after midnight. We’re getting married today.”

That morning comes all too slowly, neither of them getting much sleep between excitement and each other.

Cato has never been a morning person, but as soon as he realizes the district building opens at eight a.m. he intends to be the first one there.

He practically pushes her out of bed to wake her up, before he is half running down the hall to take an early morning shower before they get to town. He’d have a wife before breakfast, if all went smoothly, and more importantly that wife would be Clove. He’d thought about this every day since he went into those games, and while it was not the exact situation of his dreams, the journey didn’t matter. The outcome was the thing he had wanted more than anything else in the world- Clove, for forever.

Clove, on the other hand, was digging for something in the very back of her closet. She didn’t bring much with her when she moved here, or rather she didn’t have much in terms of formal wear to bring. There was a dress though she had in mind, and with a blind search she manages to identify it by feel.

Clove pulls the short white dress to the front of the closet, running her fingers over the fine lace. There had only ever been one other time she had worn it, two and a half years ago almost exactly, on the day Cato volunteered for the games. She’s never been able to forget the way he grasped the fabric, or the longing look in his eyes.

She can’t help but think that maybe just maybe he had been longing for exactly this.

Clove pins back the hair closest to her face, staring at herself in the mirror for a long, thoughtful moment.

What would her mother say, if she knew of this little act of rebellion they decided upon, taking their future into their own hands.

That's what it would be considered, too, if it got back to Snow. A teenage act of rebellion, maybe, no better than that Katniss and Peeta pulled with the berries.

They were claiming control over their future when the Capitol thought they were eating from the palms of their hands

What would her mother say if she saw her nineteen year old daughter running off to marry some victor boy she met at training ten or so years ago.

Oh what would her mother even say to see her alive, about to marry the first and only other person who told her he loved her in the first fourteen years after she was left orphaned.

Clove ties the white ribbon of the lace dress around her waist, and gives a simple once over in the mirror. Long dark hair, a face full of freckles, thin features that still somehow made her look like a porcelain doll of a girl. A woman, really. She was no little girl, now.

She was no Capitol supermodel, no beauty queen from One.

“God, you are beautiful.” Comes from behind her, turning on the balls of her feet to face Cato, half dressed in a white button down and well tailored black pants. “I can’t wait to look at you every day for the rest of my life.”

“You can save the big speech for when you have to publicly propose to me at the Quarter Quell.” Clove teases, fiddling with her mother’s necklace around her throat. “I was thinking no rings, not until the public wedding. It’ll look suspicious.”

“Of course. We don’t need to, you know.. Bring down anyone on us.” Cato looks at her, unable to wipe the grin from his face. He steps forward and pulls the delicate lace between his thumb and pointer finger, like the fabric holds a memory of brighter days and promises of a future he once craved. “I remember this dress.”

“I know. I’m wearing it for you.” Clove teases. Of course she knew he remembered it, he had mooned over it their entire goodbye, “Are we committing treason or something, doing this without the blessing of the fucking president?”

When does the simple act of loving another person become an act of rebellion in and of itself?

“If we are well..at least we’ll probably be executed together.” It’s an attempt at a joke, but neither bring themselves to laugh. “And at least we’ll be buried side by side.”

“Come on.” Clove decides, reaching out her hand. “Let's go marry each other.”

They leave the District Two building by 8:18 a.m. hand in hand, with identical, cheshire cat grins plastered across their faces.

For today they are each other’s and each other’s alone.

For today, they are each other’s favorite secret.

For today, the love between them is enough to live for.

If I was a child did it matter, if you got to wash your hands

“Do you think they’re going to do this to me, parade me around in little dresses and let them vote on what I wear? Even worse, do you think they’re going to make me wear one of her leftovers?” Clove settles between Enobaria and Cato on the couch, a slice of cake and three forks stabbed into it on a plate in her hands.

“You act like you’re already engaged, and no, they’ll definitely give you the whole royal wedding treatment on your own.’ Enobaria nabs a fork with a solid bite of cake on it, catching a glob of icing that falls off with her finger. “What's the special occasion with the cake?”

Cato and Clove share a coy smile at the comment about the lack of their engagement. Oh if only the world knew the depth of the commitment they had already made in secret.

“Cato’s mom sent it home with us, his sister’s birthday was yesterday.” Clove tucks her feet into Cato’s legs, offering him a fork. For three months now they had hid the extent of their relationship, and still everyday brought them a little more joy knowing what they had between them. “And yeah we’re not formally engaged but we’re thinking of doing it around the Quarter Quell. We think Snow will like it. You know, a double distraction from Katniss and Peeta, between us and the Quell, and all that. He’s just hoping I say yes, right baby?” She teases, squeezing his chin with her thumb and pointer finger.

“Somehow I'm not worried about that.” Cato grumbles, pinching her thigh before reaching for his shared fork. “You couldn’t give me my own?”

“You have legs–”

“Will you two shut the fuck up, they’re about to announce the twist for the Quell.” Brutus sighs, sitting in the nearby recliner with his own slide of cake.

“Damn…taking away from this very important fashion show? Isn’t this the hot topic of the entire country? Katniss Everdeen’s wedding…Whatever, I hope she wears the lace one, with the roses. I think it’s pretty.” Clove decides around a mouth of cake.

“I”m thinking it’ll be about division this year. Divide and conquer within the districts themselves. Maybe just kids who have taken Tesserae. Oh! Or only those who haven’t.” Enobaria suggests before taking another forkful of turquoise buttercream.

“I’m thinking it’ll be an extended age range. Think eight to twenty five.” Cato decides, “It’ll suck for little kids but it’ll bring some of our better players back into play in two.”

While they pass concepts back and forth, they nearly miss the actual announcement.

They almost wish they had, for noone is prepared for the words that are uttered by the President.

The tributes will be reaped from the existing pool of victors.

It is Clove first, who realizes the gravity of what is said and of the situation..A knife no one knew she even had on her ends up piercing the center of the screen, shattering right between the eyes of their president’s snake eyes.

Cato’s on his feet, and the nearest thing to him– a remote– ends up shattering the glass coffee table in their living room before the plastic smashes into shards itself.

Even Enobaria finds her nails have sunk into the fabric on the couch, shredding it as she tenses with the realization.

Brutus is out the front door, running and running hard to blow off the deathly steam.

Existing Pool of Victors

Pool of Victors

Victors.

And oh, for Cato and Clove, they were always supposed to go together.

But not like this.

I damn sure never would have danced with the devil at nineteen.

#always remember we're burned for better tag #ARWBFB TAG #clato #cato and clove #clato au #clato fanfic #cato and clove fanfiction #the bit about the victors being kept separate is like..legit canon from CF #page 183 and 184 #like separate from katniss and peeta

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