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gilded-fern · 2 years

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!Yandere Zhongli x Reader x !Yandere Childe

A/N: Hello! This is my first time writing fanfiction in a long time. Like I haven’t done this in years. I sincerely hope you enjoy reading and constructive critiscm is always welcomed!

Word Count: 3,137

Reader uses she/her

Warnings - Yandere characters, Violence, Reader gets drugged

Minors DNI

This is SFW no naughty scenes but I still don’t want minors interacting with my page.

Time has become seamless for you, day or night it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’ve been stuck in this forsaken house, in this awful room, and somewhat soft bed. The bed was the most luxurious you’ve ever been in, but you wouldn’t admit that. You held onto your anger. You use the grief of a normal life stolen from your to fight back against the men that stole you away. Took you from your quaint little shop in Liyue’s wonderfully crowded streets and noise. The life you now realize you loved so much. There were downsides to it of course, but you loved it. You adored the regulars and new faces in your flower store. The smiles lit up an entire person’s face when you presented an arrangement. The anguish you felt for this stolen life powered your rage. This fury pushed you to become the most inconvenient being for your captors.

You did not realize through your lamenting that Zhongli had entered your room. The gentleman quietly stares at your curled form in the bed. “Love, how are you feeling? Are you hungry at all? Or thirsty? I have freshly brewed tea in the other room.” As he spoke, Zhongli walked to stand next to you. Slight leaning down to rest a hand on your shoulder. Zhongli’s amber eyes scanned over your form. Perhaps scanning for any sign of injury. Not that you could hurt yourself in this glorified cage.

“I’m not hungry, and I don’t want your tea.” You grumbled scooting and facing away from Zhongli. The funeral parlor frowned slightly, setting a hand on his chin. Silence stretched out for a moment, the presence making you curl up tighter in discomfort. Archons you hated it when they just stared at you. Analyzed you like a pretty painting on a wall. It was dehumanizing.

“This is not up for debate, you must eat. You’ve barely eaten at all for the past week” Zhongli pleaded, taking a seat next to your lying form. Once more he rested a hand on your shoulder. “I know you are… upset with everything. But we will not stand to watch you…” Zhongli’s voice droned on and you simply ignored it. Letting his voice become background noise as you stared at the wall in front of you. The plain panels became the backdrop for your daydreaming. As your mind wandered to life different from this one. An existence that when you realized Zhongli’s and Childe’s predatory behavior, you fled. Or even left before you even met the pair. You settled down in Mondstat, you could have worked at one of the many bars located within the land of freedom. That would be nice.

“Love…? Are you even listening to me?” Zhongli’s voice rips through your daydreaming like a rusty knife. Tearing uneven edges in the pretty picture you created in your mind. Holding back an annoyed sigh. You shrugged off Zhongli’s hand flipping over to look at him. You're met with concerned eyes, brows furrowed in concern, and a slight frown upon his face. You stay silent, which prompts the man to speak one more time. “I was asking what you wanted… I’ll get you anything you want. Just so you promise to eat it” A thought crawls into your brain as you sit up slightly Zhongli scooting away ever so slightly to give you room. You opened your mouth to speak but paused. Could this work? What would happen if you failed? Setting aside your doubt you tentatively began.

“Can you get me something from Wanmin Restaurant? I just, I miss their food..” you lowered your head to your hands that rested in your lap. Hoping the pitiful act was enough to have Zhongli lower his guard. There was silence for a moment and you looked up at Zhongli apprehensively as he let out a sigh.

“You won’t eat anything I make?” Zhongli spoke softly a twinge of hurt laced his voice. You shake your head no. Holding back the excited grin that threatened to form. “Very well then, I will go get you something from Wanmin Restaurant. But agree to stay in this room while I leave.”

“Yes of course..” you spoke, a little too fast. Zhongli stared at you for a moment before continuing. “Then the contract is made, I will be back soon dear” Zhongli stood making his way out of the room and closing the door with a click of the lock. You paused, no way it was that easy to have Zhongli leave. Was he so desperate to get you to eat he’d leave you unattended? You waited with bated breath as you heard footsteps around the house and the familiar closing of the front door echoing through the house. Springing out of the bed you pinpointed your gaze on the dresser next to the door. Nearly tripping over your own feet you slowly pushed the dresser in front of the door. Hopefully, this would buy you some more time when you made your grand escape. Wiping the sweat from your brow, your eyes swept through your room once more. Looking at the bed posts you remembered one of the decorative pieces had come loose. Tightly grasping the wooden accent you ripped it from the bedpost. You grunted in approval and walked to the window. Tightly gripping the wooden piece you slammed it repeatedly against the glass. The resounding thuds only fuel your desire to escape from this cursed place.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. You were ready to cry. You could no longer take being stuck in the cursed home. You would rather die than spend one more day here. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Tears sprang to your eyes. Now you were crying. “Come on you stupid fucking window! Just break already!” Thud. Thud. Thud. Thu- a crack? Another slam into the glass. The crack turned into a web. Throwing the wood to the ground you took a deep breath. Took a few steps back from the window. Closed your eyes. And full sprinted with your shoulder first. You fell through, the glass surrounding you as you fell into the grass. Groaning out in pain you opened your eyes to… the sun. The clouds, trees, fresh air. Scrambling up to your feet you gazed around at your new world. How refreshing it was to be outside the same 4 walls and in the vast expanse of the outside. The grass felt wonderful on your bare feet. And ever so cautiously you tip-toed around broken grass. Before breaking out into a run from the prison that entrapped you. It was so exhilarating. The breeze pushes through your hair and cools your skin. The sun shines in your eyes, nearly blinding you, but you loved it. You relished in all of the senses that combined for the single feeling of freedom.

So you ran, through the day and into the night. Begging for scraps from small villages scattered across Liyue. Sneaking around Geovishaps, Bandits, and the various dangers of the land. You ran. Your feet are bruised and worn from the unforgiving terrain. Your hair is sweaty and matted from the constant movement. Your skin is filled with dirt and oils. But you relished it... You loved being free. You thrived on being away from your captors.

The initial running lasted around 3 days. On the 4th day, you decided to rest, the sun melting into the horizon covering the land in golds and pinks. Wiping your sweat for the umpteenth time you let out a sigh. “I can’t believe I’ve made it this far… and they still haven’t found me!” you laughed and cried. Tears of joy and relief. The surroundings around you became ignored as you celebrated, laughed, and cried. How long this went on was unknown to you. But when your celebrations ended your exhaustion reared its ugly head. Taking solace under a nearby tree you unpacked the small lunch a kind old lady had packed you. She found you running through a village. And the sweet old lady asked you a simple question “Why are you running?” You only responded with “To be safe and free”. The kind old lady seemed to understand. Ushering you into her home to pack you food and supplies for your journey. It wasn’t a lot, only enough to last you a few days. But her kindness made you realize just how little prepared you were on your journey. Her kindness met the world to you. And it only pushed your determination to succeed in staying away from the monsters. Finishing the small sandwich you had unwrapped you realized that you would need a more protected area. Looking around you saw nothing to be used as shelter. Just grass, bushes, a few trees, some random ruins, and a man. Wait- a man? Blinking a few times you saw two men walking towards you, who? Soon the features became clear, the dark hair and clothes of Zhongli and Orange hair and the infamous outfit of Childe. Shit.

Upon realizing your kidnappers were approaching, quite quickly woke your legs up. And suddenly you were running. Pure instinct and adrenaline flooded your senses once more as your feet pounded the ground. Tears sprung to your eyes, not out of happiness but pure fear. Shit. How did they find you? Your vision was blurry due to tears. And it was darkening? How perfect, now was the time you were going to succumb to your exhaustion. Everything seemed to drag on, the sounds around you seems muffled. Do you think Zhongli and Childe were chasing after you yelling? Archons, everything felt like you were underwater like you were drowning. It was dark, it was cloudy, and your brain was foggy. You think you were still running. Hopefully, you were running on pure instincts. You don’t entirely know how long you were running.

All your senses came flooding at once as a sharp pain hit your calf. You screamed out falling to the ground Looking back you sway an arrow embedded into the back of your right leg. And not too far away was childe holding his bow down, but where was Zhongli? The question was soon answered as you saw him at your side amber eyes glaring down at you.

“No... no no no please no getaway” you weakly cried crawling away from him. “Please just get away no..” the words came out in broken sobs as you pitifully clawed at the grass.

“Did you need to shoot her Childe?” Zhongli’s voice reprimanded as you felt hands lift you. Something touched the arrow in your leg causing you to scream out in pain and writhe.

“Sorry, but I thought she was going to get away. Can’t have that after we worked so hard to find her!” Childe’s voice was too cheery, too laidback for the situation at hand. You can imagine him simply smiling as he walked over, his blue eyes shining with arrogance.

“I’m sure she would have succumbed to her exhaustion soon enough, although I am surprised she made it this far.”

“Yeah well what can we say, she’s a determined one. Aren’t ya girlie?”

You felt like vomiting, the way the two of them talked so casually about you. About how you were running away from them. The pair made it sound like you were having a tantrum. Like you were a petulant child upset with them for no reason. The rest of their conversation was nothing but words to you. You weren’t listening as you cried in Zhongli’s arms. Only mourning the shattering of your dream. They would never leave you alone after this. You were truly stuck in their grasp. You felt a hand rub your head as you sobbed in Zhongli’s coat. Whose it was didn’t matter to you. All you knew is that you were truly stuck with these two monsters. Your cries slowly died out as you succumb to your exhaustion, the last thing you heard was Zhongli talking about some broken contract…

When you awoke it was not the room you were accustomed to, instead, a more extravagant room met your eyes. You slowly sat up your calf flaring in pain as you moved. You slowly took in your surroundings. The decor confirmed that you were still in Liyue and unfortunately still in your captor’s grasp. A feeling of dread piled in your gut. It sat there like a lead weight making your stomach churn as nausea washed over you. Your hands grasped your abdomen. God, you felt like vomiting, the room was spinning. Why did you stop! You should have kept running! That poor old lady, she believed in you. And you failed her- Your self-deprecation was halted as the opening of a door caught your attention. Both Childe and Zhongli entered. The redhead lit up as he realized you were awake.

“Good Morning sunshine! Glad to see you up, I was worried about ya for a second!” Childe exclaimed, walking towards your curled form. “We were so worried about you! It is not safe for you to be running off like that. Especially breaking through the damned window.” The cheery tone darkened, and Childe’s blue eyes hardened. You nervously stared up at him as Zhongli came around the other side, sliding into the bed behind you and setting you in his lap. Arms winded around your waist and a head nuzzled on top of your own. You swallowed looking at the arms around your waist.

“I’m glad you aren’t hurt dear, though you are probably lacking in the nutrients to stay healthy. I prepared some herbal tea to aid your problem” Zhongli spoke his voice becoming muffled as he leaned into your shoulder. You tensed, why was he being so sweet? You did run away… Were they not mad? Chile appeared in front of you handing you a cup of steaming tea. The Harbinger nodded at you to drink as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. You tentatively took a sip and then another. The two men watched you, the room filled with only the sounds of you drinking. Once you finished you looked up at Childe who smiled at you and took your cup. The ginger left you and Zhongli alone in the room. Zhongli let out a low sigh pulling you impossibly closer into his chest.

“Are you mad at me? I’m assuming yes but this isn’t how I expected you two to react” You were the first to break the silence. The two men’s actions confuse and disorient you. Silence panned out for a moment before Zhongli responded.

“Yes, I am upset with you. extremely upset. But I’m more concerned than anything. You can’t take care of yourself, you are left with just the clothes on your back with no care for your survival. I was so scared, I thought someone broke in and stole you away from us. I thought you were escaping an intruder. But I realize you just left us… Why would you do something so stupid and reckless? What if you had been seriously injured?” Zhongli spoke, his voice unwavering. But you could sense the tiniest bit of emotion.

“I’m a grown adult, I think I can take care of myself…” You mumbled looking at the wall.

“You say that but you put yourself in danger and cannot even uphold the simplest of contracts.”

“Hold on, wait what contract? I never agreed or broke anything?” At this point, Childe comes back into the room taking a seat by the edge of the bed.

“You broke our contract” Zhongli cut the silence, his voice slightly muffled through your hair. “That makes me very angry dear”

Then suddenly it all hits you, the contract, that stupid verbal agreement you made not to run away. Did that truly count as a contract? “What? Do you mean that little promise?” you retorted trying to look over your shoulder at the man.

“All the first contracts were verbal, and you failed to uphold your side of the agreement. You must pay the consequences” Zhongli’s words were hard as stone and the arms around you tightened. “I don’t want to do this to you love but we must ensure you learn your lesson.”

“What lesson? That you two kidnapped me? Took me from my home and family—“ the words died on your tongue as Childe placed his hands on your injured calf. Your eyes widened as a slight twinge of pain popped up from the pressure.

“You sure about this ‘Li?” The ginger asked looking at the man behind you.

“Yes- the tea she drank should be settling in by now”

What? Hold on what did they do to your tea? It was just herbal- for hydration… Your head felt foggy as you stared at Childe. The two men seemed to have a silent conversation before Childe sighed moving closer to you. Did they drug your tea? Why would they do that? And why were Childe’s hands on your injured calf? It hurt, it's hurting. The pain and pressure just kept building and building and building until a snap was heard and overwhelming waves of pain flooded your system. You screamed and screamed. Tears washed down your cheeks as you thrashed around.

“What- what did you do?! WHAT DID YOU DO?!” You screeched as Zhongli held you tighter. Your calf ebbed with pain. You continued to sob, the redhead busy securing your leg. Zhongli behind you petting your hair and shushing you. It all hurt, it hurt so much. Your body felt like lead. Your brain becomes foggy as all other sensations died out as your leg hurt. It fucking hurt. Did they break it? Holy shit- You looked down to see Childe gently propping your le

“Sorry sweetcheeks- didn’t really want to do this but you can’t be running away on us like that.” Childe apologized making his way to the side of the bed and lying down next to you. Resting his head on your chest. “Say Zhongli, do you know when it should take effect? They don’t seem too good” The redhead asked casually. It was insulting. Here you are writhing and crying in pain and he’s asking questions so casually. As if he didn’t just break your damn leg.

“It should be soon now” Zhongli replied gently petting your head. That.. felt nice? You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. Trying to ignore the pain, focusing on the soft ministrations the two men were doing. Zhongli petting your hair. Childe playing with your shirt. Your body felt heavy, you sunk into Zhongli and the bed a bit more. You were sleepy. The pain slowly faded into a dull ebb as the sweet temptation of sleep lured you away

#yandere genshin impact #yandere zhongli #yandere zhongli/you #yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #yandere childe/you #yandere tartaglia/you #yander/you #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere childe x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere genshin x reader #first story in a long time so please be nice

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tripleglitchwriting · 2 months

Note

You mentioned Ultra Magnus trying to cope with the world of One Piece and the Strawhat Pirates and I. Am. Here. For. It.

UM is a very ernest stressed out lawful good character. and the Strawhats are a chaotic good force. More Chaos than all the Wreckers and the Lost Light put together.

So in honor of that post If you don't mind me asking for two requests in one request box open run I'd like to request a One Piece/Lost Lighters crossover.

The Strawhats are helping The Lost Light crew because Luffy and Rodimus vibe. Roddy has a grand fleet flag and Luffy has a Rodimus star.

Either, Ultra Magnus/Minimus Ambus in a lull in the action asks Robin why she's a Strawhat Pirate. She's the only sane one here.

Or, if your in the mood for something lighter, Franky and Brainstorm Share The Brain-cell^TM while Usop and Perceptor attempt damage control.

YOU UNDERSTAND. YOU GET IT. I will be happy to write this!! I’m sorry it took me so long, I’ve been going through a rough patch when it comes to motivation.

The lost light characters may be a bit ooc because I’ve been having a hard time gauging their personalities. A lot of what I have for them in my head is from other fanfictions.

Also, this is just the start of the story, it’s just how they meet. I’ve yet to write specific interactions between characters, but I wholeheartedly plan to write more!

A little side note for clarification on One Piece in case anyone needs it:

- This takes place sometime after Jinbei gets on the ship

- I watch the dub so I’m going to use all of the names and such they use there (ex. Black foot Sanji -> Black leg Sanji)

- Sanji and Brook will be normal to women. I just don’t want to write them being weird.

Without further ado, I present…

Ten Idiots Meet A Ship Full Of Other Significantly Bigger Idiots

Synopsis:

After an experiment gone bad on the Lost Light (again), a portal is temporarily opened up to another dimension. Before it could be closed, however, a group of strange individuals manage to slip through.

After a long day at sea, The Strawhats always look forward to a first-class home cooked meal by Sanji himself. It was a beautiful evening- the crew opted to stay out on the deck of the Sunny to watch the sunset.

“SANJI! I’M HUNGRY! FOOD! NOW!” Not that much peace could be had with a captain like Luffy.

“I’m coming! Not every cook can whip up something like this every night you know. I swear, you guys eat more than a whole island every day.”

“Hey, that’s just Luffy. Don’t include the rest of us in this!” Nami shouted from the stairs leading to where the rest of the crew sat.

“I’M YOUR CAPTAIN AND I SAY FEED ME! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT!” Luffy pumped his arms as he chanted, sticking his tongue out as he watched Sanji cart out a giant platter of cartoonishly large meat.

“Smells as delicious as ever, Sanji.” Brook commented.

“Thank you, Brook. At least someone appreciates my food around here.” He glared at his captain, who was completely oblivious to everything else around him and solely focused on his food. Everyone else chatted away. Laughing, eating, looking up at the beautiful swirling vortex that had just appeared in the sky.

Wait.

Luffy had to stretch his arms up as his food began to be sucked into the portal above them, but it was in vain as he began to float too. The Sunny creaked as gravity shifted around them, everything but the ship itself beginning a startling ascent upwards.

“MY MEAT! NAMI, WHAT IS HAPPENING?”

“How should I know?!” She clung to an uprooting tangerine tree, “This is NOT normal! I haven’t read anything about whatever this is!”

“Everybody hang on to something!” Jinbei ordered, staring to float himself. Brook didn’t seem to get the message, as he was the first to loose his grip.

“SOMEBODYHELPMEIMBEINGPULLEDIN—”vwoop! And then he was gone.

“BROOK!” Luffy, having already eaten everything on his plate, launched himself into the portal.

“Damnit Luffy!” Zoro did the same soon after.

“What? Are we seriously going in that thing?” Chopper squealed, Usopp and Nami seemed to agree.

“Maybe we’ll all be immediately killed once we enter. It would be a painless death at least.” Robin said calmly, affixing herself to the ground with her devil fruit powers.

“YOU ARE NOT HELPING!” Usopp, Nami, and Chopper all screamed in unison.

“I suppose this is our next adventure!” Jinbei leapt through the portal. Sanji sighed and followed after him.

“Well, Sunny’s too big to go through that thing, so I guess we’re goin’ in without her.” Franky detached himself from the mast.

“Okay everyone, come on.” Robin peeled Usopp, Nami, and Chopper from their death grips on the ship and took all of them with her as she joined the rest of the crew.

“ROBIN WHY-“ Vwoop! And just like that, the Thousand Sunny was left empty.

————————————

Brainstorm was in big trouble. And possibly the entire Lost Light. And maybe the universe. The good news is his portal machine worked! The bad news is it was now pulling in random things from a random space in the multiverse. This would be a great opportunity to study it, unfortunately the stability of the thing was questionable. That is to say the portal was currently beginning to implode.

“Brainstorm, what are you doing!?” Preceptor skidded into the room right as he heard the snapping and crackling of something that probably shouldn’t be making that sound.

“Oh, nothing. It’s fine! It’s fine. I just need to- oh that’s not good. Actually do you mind helping me shut this down before it destroys the entire ship?”

“You’re going to be the death of all of us-” right as he began to walk toward the vortex, a screaming clatter of something came speeding out of it. On closer inspection, it seemed to be the corpse of a human.

“Oh, well, that’s new.” Brainstorm oh so helpfully commented. Just after another being came from the portal, also screaming but not quite as dead. Another followed, this one with a complete and utter look of annoyance on his face.

“What in the- Brainstorm, what did you do?” Ratchet entered, as did Ultra Magnus.

Soon there was an array of things entering the room. Aside from the array of random objects, there was a large blue organic followed by an another human wearing a black suit, then large possibly techno organic. Four other small people shot out shortly after.

“CLOSE IT! CLOSE IT NOW!” Ratchet ordered.

“Oh why didn’t I think of that- oh wait, I did, and I COULD USE SOME HELP!” Together they pulled on a comically large mad scientist like lever affixed to the portals control panel. As quick as it had arrived the portal was gone, though what- or who- it had just pulled in were gaining their bearings.

“Hahahaha! That was fun!” One of the humans, one wearing a yellow hat with a red line across it, put his hand on his head and looked around. It took him a second to notice, but when he finally realized where he was the man yelled, “WOAH! Cool! This place is huge!”

“It seems to be some sort of… metal building. A giant workstation perhaps.” The blue man said thoughtfully.

“Well I say we get out of here! I don’t want to be around when we find out why this place needs to be so big!” A long-nosed human whisper shouted.

“What, like those freaky statues?” The very annoyed man gestured at Brainstorm, Ultra Magnus, Ratchet, and Preceptor, who were all standing completely still. That is, until Rodimus showed up.

“Brainstorm, I heard yelling, is there a fight? Without me?” He strolled in casually, not looking at the floor, and instead focusing on his crew who were all staring at him. “What? What did I do?”

“That. Is. AWESOME!” Something from the floor shot up at Rodimus’s face. “Are you a robot? Can you shoot lasers? Do you eat metal?!” Somehow, someway, there was an ecstatic human right in front of his optics.

“Luffy! Get down from there!”

“Woah. So, care to explain? Anyone?”

“We are not robots, we are Cybertronian.” Ultra Magnus automatically stated.

“Cool!” ‘Luffy’, as his friend called him, somehow managed to launch himself on top of Rodimus’s helm. “Is there any food here?”

“Luffy! Damnit-” Another of the humans, the one in the suit, jumped. Accept when one would normally begin to succumb to gravity and fall back down, he took another step in the air and kept going. “You are so reckless!” The man tackled Luffy off Rodimus and they both began to plummet down to the ground- a height deadly to something so small.

“Sanji, let me down! I want to talk to the robot!”

“How about you shut up and come up with a plan before you get us all killed!” The moment they jumped off, Ratchet was already in motion. He was able to dive behind Rodimus to catch the two, but as he slid on the ground to save them ‘Sanji’ jumped off the air again and landed perfectly safe.

“I… I can’t even begin to explain this.” He admitted in a completely defeated tone, now chassis down on the floor.

“Do they all move?” A small voice whispered from the group still standing where the portal once was.

“I hope not.” Another replied.

“Wow. I wasn’t expecting that.” Brainstorm said calmly.

“I don’t think anyone could have predicted this.” Ultra Magnus put his servo on his helm. The two that had just survived a deadly landing like it was nothing walked back to their group- one much more unhappy than the other.

“Sorry about him. He does this a lot.” The annoyed green haired man glared at both of them.

“Oh, like you’re any better moss head.”

“Oh yeah? At least I didn’t jump in the face of a giant robot!”

“Yeah, cause you’d get lost on the way there!”

“You take that back-“

“STOP IT!” Half of the new arrivals shouted at the same time. One orange haired girl stepped up to comfort the bickering duo.

“This is not the time to argue! We’re kind of… we- look!” She gestured at, well, everything. Everyone else seemed to silently agree.

“Greetings visitors from another world! Welcome aboard the Lost Light!” Brainstorm announced with a flashy arm movement.

“Hey, I’m the captain, I get to welcome people into the ship!”

“You’re a captain?! Is this a pirate ship? Are you giant robot pirates?!” Luffy shouted in awe, though still in the arms of Sanji, who promptly dropped him.

“He said he was ‘Cybertronian’ bro. Not a robot.” The probably techno organic chastised.

“Psh, whatever.” Luffy got himself to his feet.

“We are not pirates.” Ultra Magnus said very sternly. “We are on a perfectly legal exploratory expedition.”

“Oh, bummer.” He glanced around once again. Apparently deciding now was a good time, he introduced himself. “My name is Monkey D. Luffy and I’m gonna be King of the Pirates!” Luffy smiled brightly and giggled, either ignoring or disregarding his friends facepalms.

“Well, I’d say this was a great success!” Brainstorm cheered to himself. “Who knew that was possible! I really am a genius.”

“And who are you?” ‘Moss head’ sneered at him. “Who are any of you? This is weird.”

“Well, if I’m allowed to introduce my own ship this time, my name is Rodimus Prime, captain of the Lost Light!”

“Hang on, this is your ship? How did you build something like this, it looks like it’s straight outta Vegapunk’s lab! What part of the world are we in anyway?” The blue hair techno organic asked, putting his oversized hand on his strangely shaped chin.

“Space, my friend. We’re in space. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if anything living would make it through that portal. Looks like it’s got about a 9 out of 10 survival rate which is better than most multidimensional portals I’ve seen. That is to say I’ve never seen one before, because I built the first one. Just now. No need to congratulate me.” Ignoring Brainstorm’s blatant narcissism, the of new arrivals looked absolutely flabbergasted by this information.

“We’re in space? Like, space space? Outer space?” Luffy asked with eyes wider than any moon, a big bright burning ball of excitement building in his chest.

“I assume you’ve never been off your planet before?” Perceptor asked. Luffy didn’t respond this time. He looked like he was about to burst with excitement, though his crew mates didn’t seem to pay much mind. One or two of them shook their heads in response to the question. “Well, Brainstorm, care to explain what you’ve done here?”

“What I’ve done- well, if you have the mental capacity to understand- I can give you a basic rundown. I’ve designed this portal to reach into alternate dimensions, which have hardly been confirmed to exist other than the dead universe. I’ve been worked steadily on it for a while now, and today I tested it out. It brought these ten organics here as well as some other junk.”

“Brainstorm.”

“Yes?”

“You mean to tell me, you turned on an untested and extremely dangerous machine that could obliterate our entire existence within nanokliks for no reason other than bragging rights? And when it miraculously did work, you pulled in ten random people from an unknown possibly incredibly dangerous world that could have also imploded our entire existence?”

“Yes that about sums it up.” Perceptor’s optic twitched, but as it seemed time was moving a bit too fast for him to start lecturing. The corpse on the floor began to move, slowly at first, and then in a sharp practiced motion it popped up on its feet.

“Yohohoho! I think I passed out for a second there!” The skeleton looked around. “Oh. I definitely passed out. No bones about it!” The apparently not corse laughed to himself.

“Cool! I didn’t think those human stories about corpses coming back to life were real!” Rodimus said with a childlike playfulness.

“They’re not.” Ultra Magnus argued bluntly.

“Oh, I am a skeleton. It’s a long story. Say, Luffy, what is going on?”

“We got sucked through a portal and now we’re talking to giant robot guys.”

“Oh okay.” The skeleton nodded, and then quickly scurried to where three of the other humans (and animal thing?) were huddled.

“Well, remind me to change that to a 10 out of 10 survival rate!”

“I feel like introductions are in order here…” Perceptor stated, “I’ll go first. My name is Perceptor. I’m a scientist. Now, you.” He gestured at Brainstorm.

“Well, if you insist. I am Brainstrom. Genius inventor of the machine that brought you all here.”

“I am the duly enfor- ah, I mean Ultra Magnus. I try to keep the peace around here.”

“You know me, I’m Rodimus.” He nudged Ratchet. “It’s your turn, doc.”

“Fine. I’m Ratchet. Retired head medical officer.“

“Cool names!” Luffy, having sprung back up, was jumping up and down. “This is my crew, the Strawhat Pirates!”

“Roronoa Zoro. Soon to be greatest swordsman and second hand man.” ‘Moss head’ introduced himself. The orange hair girl stepped out of the group.

“I’m Nami, the navigator.” The long nose man shakily emerged after her.

“I am commander Usopp! Best sniper in the world! I’m also the leader of one thousa-“

“Don’t even start.” The suit wearing man stepped up. “Sanji. I’m the crew’s chef.” The animal like thing approached from behind another crew member.

“Um, my name’s Chopper. I’m the doctor.” He tapped his hooves together nervously. A woman, one who hasn’t said much until now, patted the hat on his head in a compassionate manner.

“I’m Nico Robin, an archeologist.” She smiled sweetly and quickly got out of the way of the blue haired inhuman human man rushing to the front.

“Name’s Franky!” He struck a strange pose. “A SUPER good shipwright!” The skeleton stepped up beside him and did a short bow.

“My name is Brook. I am lucky to be the musician of this crew. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” When he stood up the large blue man stood beside him.

“I am Jinbe, the helmsman. It is a pleasure to meet you as well.” He bowed deeply.

“Now that we did that, do you guys have any food?” Luffy asked immediately and without hesitation.

The fifteen of them stood in Brainstorm’s mildly disfigured lab space, each with very different thoughts running through their heads. A new world, a new people, things most on the Lost Light never even imagined possible. From then on, the world got a little more chaotic.

#transformers #transformers g/t #transformers au #tripleglitchwrites #crossovers #one piece #one piece crossover #one piece x transformers #this caters to such a niche audience but I am happy to supply content #one piece au #ultra Magnus has a bad day #Rodimus has a great day

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sweetpandorabox · 1 year

Text

My Goodbyes - Cedric Diggory x Female Reader (One Shot)

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨sweetpandorabox୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…⋙

Synopsis: You and your ex-boyfriend Cedric Diggory have been separated for a little over 3 months, it was a mutual and heartbreaking decision with him being in his last and final year of Hogwarts while you have about 2 years left to go before graduation, but not only that time seems to disagree and is not sticking side by the two of you in any way shape or form. Despite still loving each other tremendously there's nothing else you and Cedric can do to fix it, only time shall decide if the two are meant for each other leaving the feelings of ache and misery when you pass by each other pretending not to care...if only it isn't a right person, wrong time situation.

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Female Reader

Story Settings: This fanfiction is set in your 5th of Hogwarts, the Order of the Phoenix time (You're in Harry's year group for this one, and also Cedric survives through the Triwizard tournament and is tied with Harry). Anything bolded and in italic is a flashback scene.

Terms 📖:

Y/N : Your name

Y/L/N : Your last name

Y/E/C : Your eye color

Y/H/C : Your hair color

Y/H : Your house

Warnings⚠️: Angst, Fighting, and Right Person Wrong Time

Word Count : 3,310

The Hogwarts greenhouse was still, no wind seemed to be breezing its way in letting you focus on your note-taking session while the class stayed awfully silent making the sounds of quills being dragged across a piece of parchment audibly loud. Your mind was well occupied and it isn't inhabited by what you wanted it to be, your mind isn't thinking about the magical plant you're studying today which is gillyweed or how gillyweed affects human beings when eaten. Your mind was well occupied by Cedric Diggory your ex-boyfriend of 2 years, it has been about 3 months since the last time you both spoke to each other. It was rough, a breakup full of tears, sleepless nights, and sorrows despite it being a mutual decision between the two of you due to all the changes that were happening and the timing greatly affecting the almost perfect relationship you both had, you effectively thought you've healed and moved on but you've lied to yourself.

Bumping into him on your way to Herbology today has floated back all the happy memories of you and the lovable Hufflepuff back to the forefront of your brain, suddenly the heartache has presented itself back. You still loved him, tremendously and the truth is you're heartbroken and in no way shape or form have healed over the breakup. "Y/N… I'm really sorry I wasn't looking at where I was going", Cedric apologized looking down at your smaller figure and giving you an equally apologetic smile as you look up at him dumbfounded for a second. He crouches down to pick up the books you've dropped during the collision, your eyes watch as he got back up handing in your now neatly stacked books, "T-Thanks Cedric", you smile weakly making sure to linger your eyes elsewhere than his pair of molten silver like eyes.

He paused at your response not knowing what to say before noticing a strand of Y/H/C loose hair covering your left eye, without thinking he tucked it behind your ear, making you flinch at his once tender touch that now seems to torch you alive. "You look beautiful today" he complimented with a hurt look displaying on his face over your flinch, tears welled up in your eyes before you're able to say "Excuse me, Cedric, I'm sorry I can't do this I have to go" you farewell leaving him behind all alone. "Miss Y/L/N…Miss Y/L/N" Professor Sprout shouted catching your attention after a second shout, your head shot up like dear in headlights "Y-yes Professor" you finally respond, as professor sprout shook her head in disappointment as all the other students in your class looked at you with a sheer of confusion. "Miss Y/L/N you really need to pay more attention, I was asking you what attributes gillyweed gives to a human who's eaten it?"

You swallow your overwhelming thought of Cedric away before answering not knowing that your two best friends who happen to be a couple at the same time, Neville and Hannah, were watching you over their seats with concern, not knowing the previous event that led up to your distorted mood and energy. "Well done Miss Y/L/N, please just pay more attention and be aware next time alright? 10 pints to Y/H", Sprout suggested and rewarded before you give her a firm and understanding nod as a response. "Alright, class, please open up your Magical Water Plants of the Highland Lochs book tonight and read page 112 all the way to page 115, oh and jot down any useful information about Gillyweed that you may find…alright class dismissed" Professor Sprout announce as every other student rushes out the greenhouse as it was the last class of the day, you start packing up your things slowly with no emotions displaying on your face.

"Hey, are you alright?" Hannah asked laying a gentle yet reassuring hand on your shoulder as she stand close to Neville, with one of his arms warping around her waist. You turned yourself over after packing up your things facing your 2 childhood best friends with a sad look, "Uhm, to be honest, no, I bumped into Cedric on my way to Herbology today and my emotions are clearly showing me that I haven't made any progress what's so ever in moving on from him… I still love him and it isn't fair that time is not on our side nor all the new things that are happing to him as he'll eventually graduate…it's been 3 months I shouldn't feel this way anymore" you confessed looking down at your shoes due to disappointments and embarrassment swarming over you. Hannah and Neville looked at each other with concern over your well-being unsure of what to do.

After a minute of silence went by Neville looked over at you and place a hand on your head, "Y/N, I think it's time that you take those steps and move on… you need some sort of closure with him so that the both of you are able to be free from these restraining feelings, how about writing him a farewell letter and maybe giving back some of his stuff you've been keeping and haven't returned?" Neville suggested with a hopeful and sympathetic look glimmering in his emerald-like eyes sending some of that energy back to your hurt-looking pair of Y/E/C eyes. Hannah gave him a proud and soft smile rubbing his back, "Nev is right Y/N, I know it may seem unbelievable but I overheard Cedric and Ernie having a conversation, and it was about you, Cedric confessed to Ernie that he still loves you and he finds it tough to see you around with other people especially since he's going to leave Hogwarts quite soon" Hannah added firming your mind up into a decision.

It's been about a week since you've had that conversation with your best friends, you thanked them both greatly pulling them into a group hug as you cried in their arms for about an hour. You're sitting all alone inside your shared dorm room, this time it isn't so still, the wind has managed to breeze up inside the dorm room through an open window one of your roommates has left open, but you've decided to keep it open as it felt freeing and comforting almost as if the wind was a presence itself. With a quill dipped in ink on hand and a piece of blank parchment lying still on your desk, your mind starts to float away as you let all the memories go through your mind so you're able to put some sort of writing into the letter. The afternoon sun shines through the sky giving a slight warmth, letting the tree that you and your boyfriend Cedric are laying under as a sort of shade cooling the both of you as it provides a light breeze through its branches.

"Guess what?" Cedric mentioned, stroking your head gently as you lay your head against his muscular chest listening to his beating heart, a smile make its appearance on your lips at his words, "What?" you respond curiously, "The Ballycastle Bats professional Quidditch teams have signed me as one of their future seekers as soon as I graduated Hogwarts" he mentioned excitedly, however, despite your boyfriends excitement the smile you've had on your lips disappears. "Wow that's amazing love but…isn't the Ballycastle Bats based in Northern Ireland?" you asked with suspense, Cedric grew quiet and cleared his throat before answering. "Y-yeah they are" he hesitated, "Well you see we start trials during this winter break before I come back over here, and they shortlist you from there" he explains trying to ease the fact that he's going to be far away from you since Hogwarts is in Scotland and his team is based in Ireland and that if he really was signed by the team there will be no time made for you do to extensive training, games, and press conferences before the national British and Irish Regional competitions.

"Wow…guess so many new things are finally happening, you're going to be quite far away from me next year, and being an athlete has its downside, you'll be extremely busy" you mentioned in an almost sad-sounding tone. Cedric paused at your sad-sounding answer, not really being able to say something to ease you, but after what felt like years he let out a deep sigh before saying, "I know you may be worried or sad, but I've made a promise to you when I ask you to be mine didn't I? I told you that no matter how far, how messy, how angry, how hurt I am, I'll always love you and that I'll always cherish you for simply existing. Didn't I?" he recited just like his 15-year-old self did 2 years ago, watching as the 13-year-old you, blushed furiously and stumble over your response to his confession.

The rest of that day was hazy but you remembered the kiss he pulled on you all too well, a kiss to ensure you that he's yours and that no matter what he becomes whether it'll be a star quidditch player or not, he'll always have time for you and will try to make it work, but then another memory start playing in your mind vividly as you barely start to write the first paragraph of the letter. "Y/N would you please just listen to me" Cedric shouted in a frustrated tone over you shouting him out, "No Ced this is the 5th time you've ditched me on a date that you so wonderfully planned… When are you going to show up and keep your promise" Your voice starts breaking, with tears leaving you with a blurred vision. Cedric lets out a big breath and lowers his tone, "Look babe I'm so sorry that I kept messing up okay, I kept forgetting how busy school is getting and how much I needed to train in order to get this Quidditch contract" he reasoned with you his face displaying the look of hurt to see you cry.

You wipe the frustration tears away before reasoning, "Love I understand that you're busy with school, and Quidditch training but why keep disappointing me with these empty promises of yours? We don't ever see each other anymore. I'm lucky if I can even sit next to you during dinner or lunch for 10 minutes before you have to get up and do all these things…the thing is love you have your priority sorted and our dreams, our ages are just too different, I mean hell time can't even seem to stick by us for just a moment" you explained with tears fully streaming down your face drenching your face wet, leaving Cedric in distress. "I'm so sorry Ced b-but in order for you to grow and to live your life I have to let you go. I can't have you hurt me nor I hurt you it's too much for me, I love you too much to see you be tied down by me" You broke down not being able to speak anymore watching as Cedric started tearing up himself just going in for a tight hug inside your empty shared dorm room.

That was the memory that broke you, you knew you had to do it for him, and he understood your reasoning behind the split but the both of you can't help but miss each other entirely each and every day. You miss the way he hugs you from behind, kisses your head, or offers his arms as he walks you over to classes while he missed the way your lips feel against his, he missed the way you took care of him and the way you did his tie for him, the desire to get back to each other was strong and true but trouble seems to tie the both of you down, holding the both of you hostage. A stream of salty tears starts drowning your face, a small number of tears managed to drip down on the piece of parchment you've stopped filling with writings a while ago, taken aback by how much you're actually hurting after all this time trying to convince yourself that you've healed, but after a bit of crying you wipe your tears and start writing the letter in comfortable silence glad to be alone in such state just hoping your roommate would stay out all day long so you're able to isolate.

"I heard you uh… got accepted to that Quidditch contract over the winter break, You're finally going to play for the Ballycastle Bats over in Ireland next year, thank goodness they found a great seeker" you mentioned hiding the painful tone in your voice away for Cedric. He smiles excitedly at your supportive-sounding cheer, "I-I uh did, yeah I'm very proud of myself for it. I worked myself to the bone before trials and I can't believe I just did it" he confessed letting out a proud and tiresome chuckle before silence swarmed the both of you again, as the atmosphere made it quite clear that the both of you were still hurting over the break up 3 months ago. The memory of finding out that Cedric has made it played in your mind over and over again, it has been a good couple of months since you wrote your goodbye letter, along with that you packed up all the things that belonged to Cedric that you have not returned, like his quidditch hoodie, his socks, his books, and all the letters he's written you for Valentine's day, Anniversary milestones and for days where you weren't feeling like yourself, it hurts but you knew you couldn't keep them you needed to set yourself free. now the hard part is giving it all back and saying goodbye.

The day you dread the most has finally come, O.W.L's exams are finished, students everywhere in the castle are enjoying themselves, their trunks all packed up temporarily as some are coming back for another year after summer break including yourself while some like Cedric are packing their trunk and leaving Hogwarts for good as it was his last year here before his graduation ceremony. Everyone else seems to be enjoying their last-day feast while you head for the stairs area to drop off your luggage ready for Hagrid and Flitch to load them over to the Hogwarts Express train so it's all ready to depart tonight, along with a small box of Cedric stuff nervous to give them back and terrified of how the interaction between the both of you will go, but you incidentally come across a tall and dark-haired figured in his Hufflepuff Hogwarts uniform, right off the bat you could tell who it was as he struggled to keep his broom standing right up, the scent of his cologne seems to verify him more as you tried you best to keep it together.

You drag your trunk over to the nearest pile not making that much noise still holding the box containing Cedric's belongings including a letter you manage to pour out your heart into, waiting for him to turn and notice you. After a few minutes, he finally got his stuff all ready, satisfied, he dusted his hands clean and turned around only to find a shorter figure, with luscious Y/H/C hair being pulled back into a messy bun and a Y/H uniform she so proudly wears. He blinked his eyes over your beauty not remembering the last time you pulled your hair back and presented your face so openly to him, "Uhm hi Ced" you greet him trying your best to keep eye contact with his air of molten sliver-like eyes, he gulped and greet you back "Y/N h-hi are you alright?" he asks kindly with a slight worry trailing behind his voice, you nodded before clearing your throat, "So I uhm, I have a couple of things that belonged to you that I haven't actually returned, and I thought that today would be the best day to give it so here you go" you hand him the box.

He took it slowly, making slight contact with your hands as it sent electrical charges throughout the both of you, unsure when the last time a spark like that happened. "Thank you Y/N, but what is this," he asks touching a letter you purposefully left out without putting it inside the box, "Oh uhm that's a letter I wrote for you, you know to say goodbye and wish you the best for next year… since this will be the last time I'm ever going to see you again" you explained voice breaking, as tears start glimmering in your pair of now delicate Y/E/C eyes, Cedric frowns at your answer but none of the less nodded firmly, as silence fell between you once again. You sigh the sadness away while also composing yourself before saying "Alright well I should probably get going, I-I uh will see you at the feast yeah? Make sure you eat loads to have a good sleep tonight" you remind him still trying to hold on to all the broken pieces of yourself together before it all come crashing down.

Cedric hesitated not knowing what to do nor what to say, so he chose to look down at his feet trying to figure out what to do with himself before setting the box aside as he watched you walk up the stairs slowly, but suddenly, "Y/N please wait" Cedric begs his voice breaking as if he lost the most valuable thing he had in his life. You stop dead in your tracks with all the tears just freely streaming down hearing Cedric run up the stairs and throw himself to hug you from behind like he always did before, gently turning you around to face him and there he was, face was broken and tears streaming freely just like yours, you couldn't do anything but caressed his cheek as you tippy-toed to reach, using your thumb to rub his tears away, he sniffled in pain, not because he was injured but because of how much he desperately needed you here with him. "Ced, my love I know this is tough, it is for me too but please know that in another life, or in another universe your soul and mine are bound to find each other once more, and then we can finally be happy together...please don't cry" you explained trying not to choke and stumble over your words still crying in agony in these empty halls and stairways.

All Cedric could master at this point was a nod before you pulled him into a kiss, a kiss so different from what it was before, all the happiness and joy disappearing along with the feeling of comfort and secureness with each other, It was all out the window, instead being replaced by the feeling of insecurity, sadness, and desperation but not shy of love. The kiss went on for a while, You couldn't remember the last time you and Cedric kissed, but you ultimately ended it, putting your forehead against his before saying "This is my goodbye, love, I have to go...you should too" you suggested watching as his face breaks some more, trying to form some sort of plead, but before you could collapse into a million pieces you ran out of there as fast as you can possibly go, and made straight for one of the girl's lavatories where you cried there all night hurting, not knowing what else to do with yourself as the one you love has to walk away from you, leaving you empty and numb.

#cedric diggory #hufflepuff #hogwarts #wizarding world #one shot #female reader #imagine #hp fanfcition #hp fanfic #hp fandom #harry potter series #harry potter angst #harry potter imagine #cedric x y/n #cedric x reader #cedric x you #harry potter fandom #right person wrong time #imagines

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novastardoughnut · 1 year

Text

head cannons for Limited Life timers

so people within the community drawing fanart and writing fanfiction have been giving each member of limited life clocks or timers customised for each player. and i want to share what i have in my brain for each members clocks and timers

Team Ties: most TIES members are redstoners and Technical Players thus in my head their watches represent that. Etho has an old fashioned clockwork stopwatch, Impulse has an LED Display wrist watch, Tango has a Nixietube watch and Skizzleman has a rather smart digital wrist watch. most of these watches are more advanced or technical matching their more technical play style

The Clockers: the clockers all have pocket watches. cleo has an old style victorian watch that goes at half speed (thus it reaches 12 at the end of the game. and 6 at half way through the game), BDubs has his typical minecraft style clock (ending when the clock turns full night) and Scar has a pocket watch with the cover and back showing an image of Jelly engraved.

The Nosey Neigbours: the nosey Neigbours watches are more interpretational using the conventional hand format but not denoting an exact time. BigB has a watch with every 2 hours denoted by the percentage of a cookie eaten ending at where 12 would be where there is no cookie and all that remains is crumbs. Pearl has a clock with each 2 hours is portrayed by phases of the moon, ending upon a full moon with the half way point being a new moon

The Bad Boys: the bad boys clocks are far more wacky and rebellious in that bad boys kinda way. Jimmy has an old fashioned alarmclock that clips to his belt (this harkens to miners who would use windup alarm clocks to tell them the time), when his time runs out the alarm rings out for all to hear, joel has an old Shrek themed wrist watch and grian has a somewhat magical, watcher amulet that tells the time among a shifting, swirling purple void.

the mean gills: both martyn and scott have sand timers. both very appropriate for their sandy beach/island appearance

#limited life #traffic life series #trafficblr #traffic series #traffic smp #limlsmp #life series

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ellieellieoxenfree · 25 days

Note

🍄 ❄️ 🧩

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

hghhhhhhh i should save all my juicy chenai ones for fics. but since most of them involve pre-canon timelines, i'll go with one of my old standbys for my favorite ships: food. i think ai di developed a really fucked-up relationship with food in prison -- not only a bland, tasteless utility rather than something eaten for pleasure, but also something he associates with danger due to the communal nature of mealtime. i think he spent all that time eating just enough to be able to stay alert, but forcing himself to get through it as quickly as possible so he could fully focus on protecting zong yi and watching for threats. and conversely, i think chen yi picked up a lot of cooking skills while ai di was inside, and he goes out of his way, especially in the early days, to make ai di's favorite dishes and try to help him work through all of the issues he clearly has but isn't talking about. as much as he would fight it, ai di wants to be cared for (on an extremely repressed level), and i'm a huge proponent of food as an act of love.

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

this is mean and you know it. :( i so so so so SO desperately crave that thematically rich, narratively probing character work for my kiseki boys. there's so much to pick apart and so many approaches you could take -- so many pieces of their pasts to fill in; so many missing scenes or scenes that would benefit from extra depth -- and i don't want to write it myself because i'm slow, my brain is bad, and also, i know exactly what i would write and so the element of surprise isn't there. unfortunately, i'm an exacting and demanding bitch so even if someone did write this dream fic, i would probably still find a reason to kvetch. i am permanently trapped in the 'i don't want to write it but no one is going to write exactly the fic i want to see unless i write it myself' hell and it is 100% a self-created problem. every day i'm self-owning.

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

i'm VERY picky about authorial voice, and that goes for fic and published work alike. i have been known to drop books within a few paragraphs if the voice grates on me. (this is @ tim o'brien when i made it four paragraphs into america fantastica this morning and deleted it.) i see very stilted writing in fandom spaces that speaks to a certain level of insecurity and lack of practice, and i just can't do it. writing doesn't necessarily need to flow in a mellow fashion -- a choppy, staccato rhythm can be brutally effective -- but you can absolutely tell when someone has an underdeveloped authorial voice or is trying too hard to cultivate one they're not entirely comfortable with.

(in terms of developed authorial voice that i just cannot do, the two that immediately spring to mind are very smug, self-satisfied cleverness (people who grew up as teeaboos or who are constantly mimicking pterry or douglas adams) and extremely flowery language. get to the fucking point already!!)

i also will immediately tune out of something with bad grammar, especially inconsistent tense changes or dialogue that isn't punctuated correctly, OOC behavior (extremely vague umbrella term here, let's be real, but much like pornography, i'll know it when i see it), and repetitive word choice. i have closed out of fics for using 'the other man' or 'the blond' or 'murmured' so many times within a chapter that if i took up a drinking game while reading, i'd be dead of liver failure within 500 words.

i'm a huge snob and i never read anything, basically ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#not that i am in any way shape or form killing the writing game and i know this #i am a lazy hack so when i am judging others please know i am also judging myself just as hard #asks

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boxwinebaddie · 7 months

Note

What are Stan and Kyle’s favorite seasons?

*cracks knuckles, unsheathes my gigantic pink, hello kitty enchiridion of manically compiled style knowledge ( aka fanfiction lore galore ) and pets my beautiful fluffy cat whilst swirling my $12 rose box wine around in a $2 dollar thrift store mug, peering eeriely*

ah! a lovely visitor at my lodging! i've been expecting you! or so the fates foretold and the tarot has tattled~ and perhaps my frilly, bell-sleeved robes reveal me, but i am called many things: pretty, witty...a man-hating, soothsaying sorceress and tawdry disgrace to my bitter bloodline, but you, my moon blossom, may call me armarius nina -- better known as your stylibrarian.

now, sit a spell, young scholar! ( though, you're charming enough without my ancient enchantments ) and let your heavy heart enlighten with the sage wisdom i impart on you whilist you rest your bones and gear up for your next great adventure!

but speaking of bones: you may find some in the closet. a few experiments i'm running on what pathetic, spineless, excuses for 'men' and crass chauvinistic pigs i find lollying about.

dear elora does find misogynists so very delicious these days. :)

now, my friends, as we return to the realm of reality, where i do not live, i am sure it's abundantly clear by my skyrim-esqe, taverny, dnd introduction, that i am very deranged, verbose and dedicated to my (witch-bitch-craft), which is pulverizing the south park canon so violently that they resemble the worthless men in my dungeon.

however, in doing so, i do put a lot of time and effort into dissecting the stan and kyle's across my ninaverse and thus, have far too much to say and am far too impassioned/excited about your question! <3

( nobody, of course, should be forced to read all this, but if you find my musings about the boys amusing, you might want to gander. )

and in the land of logic, where i also do not live, i know that...all my ncu style sons are just...stan and kyle at the end of the day. but to me at least, stan the man with the plan, kyle pile, jersey and raven are not the same people at all! they exist in different compartments in my brain and are greatly similar, but exist in radically different timelines.

...but perhaps i am simply gaslighting myself into believing all my many madman ramblings...but! live, laugh, love delusion, babey! ;)

and without further ado, down below, my ncu style season ninalysis.

now, something that i find terribly thrilling about the dynamic of the pep!style boys is that they are perfect opposites who attract. and as such, each their favorite seasons is the other's least favorite season, which if you've read my awful, monstrosity, abomination mess of a fanfiction, this fits right in with their moon-sun metaphor and motif.

starting with pep!stan, his favorite season is undoubtedly summer, not to be confused with #stanseason, which i will elaborate on later. speaking of summer, i think actually even mentioned it canonically at the beginning of chapter seven that summer is stan's fave season.

and stanley randall william marsh just...IS summer.

he's the crisp sound of cracking an ice cold beer on a scorching trip to stark's pond, swimming like a river nymph, watching a superhero movie surrounded by all his friends, gorging on hot, buttered popcorn, laughing so hard at the stupidest things that it sends a rocket of his extra large blue raspberry icee shooting out his nose, spiked, of course, with vodka, so it burns like fuck and is so funny.

he's holding your hand at the county fair on the highest part of the ferris wheel when you get scared, winning the strength test, gifting you a comically large stuffed bear you cherish forever, and feeds you pieces of funnel cake like you're the most precious thing in the world.

he's just...singing siren songs at the summer camp bonfire, collecting seashells for little girls, guarding baby turtles from being eaten by birds and guiding them safely into the water with a tearful goodbye.

the summer sky is clear and cerulean like his big, pretty eyes. sun's, guns out. and when it's hot outside, stan is out doing hot boy things.

be it hiking, biking, soccer, football, basketball, baseball, swimming, skateboarding, stanley marsh never gets sunburned, tans beautifully, gets sunkissed by mother nature, her favorite and basking in the glow of the summer sun is the closest thing he feels to happiness.

but, as we learned in our science rechap in the pep nine kyle denial, what comes up must come down. and with the intensity of stan's emotions, comes an equal instability, so what is summer sky high must meet a brutal, bitter ground zero winter. without mercy.

and when that flip flop drops...that means that IT has begun.

it being...

#stanseason. :/

now, sometimes during september its still little tepid and shiny and stan's favorite holiday ( that little goth bitch ) is halloween, so october is alright ( barring his birthday ) because even if it's a little gloomy outside, it fits the spooky season vibe that is literally his whole 'thing'.

but the second halloween is over...when the thirty first of october becomes the first of november...something in him just...snaps.

the switch goes off and gets stuck there. basically, he has really gnarly seasonal depression and that plays really, really poorly with his bipolar disorder and depression. like, i swear when the blue of the sky goes grey, stan's eyes dull with it. everything is so bleak, all the plants he loves so much wither and die, animals go into hiding, everything is either grey or white or pitch black at night and so miserable to him.

especially during winter break and weekends, he just holes up in his room and his childhood bed basically becomes his deathbed as he succumbs to what are some of his scariest depression episodes. him and wendy actually break up the most in the winter months because when the sun is gone, stan just goes...cold. full stop communication.

but also he can't help it. he's undiagnosed, so he's unmedicated besides his adderall ( which is a part of 13/14 ) so he just gets catatonic, can't move, can't eat, can't do anything, just cries and curls up in a ball and sleeps entire weeks away like that. my baby :(

on a deeper and way more fucked up level than even THAT though, more than weather, it's what happens during #stanseason because stan is extremely triggered and traumatized by the holiday season.

for starters, his birthday is just...he tries to avoid it every single year or is too drunk to remember it in order to get through it because the best thing about his bday to him is that hes a year closer to death :(

the actual holidays are so much worse though because of...sigh...Randy Marsh. he is a fucking monster during the holidays.

he ruins and terrorizes everyone every year it's so fucking awful. thanksgivings are shitty as fuck for him because he's just like sitting there and eating the side dishes, trying to just exist and randy is calling him a sissy and little girl and a fucking f*g for not eating meat.

christmas actually used to be stans favorite time of year!!! believe or not!!! like he liked xmas more than halloween because of the pretty lights and everyone being so happy and being able to get people gifts

:') sharon used to take little stan all over the neighborhood with their lights out with him on her shoulders, then eventually, when stan got too old for that and kyle came around, stan used to drag him by the hand, babbling and bright eyed. he also used to sing kyle christmas songs and it gaslit kyle into liking them because is just stan's voice so so nice and pretty and ugh...STAN FUCKING LOVED CHRISTMAS!!!

i also think it was around christmas that randy got drunk backed out of the driveway...and killed sparky, so stans in mourning during the winter time and visits sparkys grave by starks pond...i'm so :'(

FUCK YOU RANDY!!!! FUCK YOU SO MUCH!!! MEET ME IN THE PIT BITCH!!! YOU WONT YOU WONT!!!!

like i think what really put the nail in the coffin was one year when stan was in middle school ( he was happy during elementary school and was...getting wary of holidays/randy in middle school ) randy got drunk, really angry and violent for some reason...and on christmas morning, stan, shelley and sharon came down to carnage.

like all the presents just smashed up, toys in pieces, beautiful jewelry destroyed, the christmas tree they decorated absolutely desecrated, half of the presents in the fireplace it was sooooo horrible. and randy was just passed out drinking spiked eggnog on their living room floor, sleeping fucking peacefully. >:(

so stan...hates christmas now. stan who is a christmas angel. stan who loves cheer, happiness, whimsy and spirit. like gets mad when he hears christmas songs, is irritable all month long. :( STAN WHO LOVES MINT!!!! MY PEPPERMINT BABY! he can't even enjoy all the nice peppermint flavored stuff he loves because is so traumatized by xmas and the holiday season.

but to segway into the next part of my deranged season analysis of the ncu boys, i wanna loop back to stan's scary seasonal depression because those episodes often become serious stan alcohol benders.

it's cold outside and he's cold inside, but he doesn't know how to get warm so in his fucked up, untherapised sad boy brain he is like okay, well, alcohol makes me feel warm and makes me feel good, so if i drink itll just fix everything and i'll feel better again. so he's just getting violently drunk all winter long to microdose feeling good, to microdose warmth, TO MICRODOSE KYLE BROFLOVSKI.

ergo:

stan's favorite season is summer because it makes him feel the way that kyle makes him feel. stan likes summer because kyle is the sun.

micdrop. sjdlkdjads

so pep!kyle is like stan's little spot of sunlight in an otherwise wretched winter, which is actually very cute and funny because kyle's favorite season is winter. :)

he's just my little ice prince, steely solitaire, wicked, wintry, slow burn tsundere ( sorry ), glacier boy, who actually under the cold boy exterior is really just a romance literature enjoying, secret soft boy.

but, outwardly at least, and as we established throughout peppermint, but most specifically in chapter three, kyle broflovski is a Hater. of so many things, but save for house parties, crying babies, small spaces and rave music, kyle truly hates the ever-loving, or hating, rather, fuck out of the summertime.

he hates when it's hot and sticky ( ew ), sweating himself or seeing anyone sweat openly repulses him ( unless stan marsh is at the gym and kyle is spotting him -- he loves his job so much ), he hates the smell of sunscreen which he has to slather all over himself not to sunburn, which he still does anyway, so he spends all summer with his skin basically in red, angry, tender welts,

he gets really self conscious ( fuck the list ) going out in swim trunks, or even just shorts/sleeveless shirts ( he is really only comfortable in shorts around the house or playing basketball, other than that, cartman made a weird comment about his legs and he never recovered from that :((( -- you're so beautiful baby ) and really, that all chocks up to kyle having serious summer seasonal depression.

kyle hates summer but...kyle loves stanley marsh. so kyle endures summer specifically for stan and this does...have several benefits.

see, while stan is constantly on the move and hard to catch during the summer, flying from one outside boy activity to the next, kyle has spent his entire life running after his super best friend and does have an advantage in catching him. he does, however, need to catch his breath constantly.

which! thankfully, stan always has kyle's inhaler at the ready but if kyle hits his inhaler and stan hits him with the beautiful laugh, one dimple, hair ruffle combo...he does need to hit his inhaler again. it's a vicious cycle...but its very worth it for kyle.

mainly b/c he gets to watch stan do all his summer stuff.

specific iconic stan marsh hot boy summer activities/antics include:

that month stan was mowing lawns shirtless to save up for a new game console and kyle crashed into multiple trees on his bike, that time his mom asked him to patch something up on the roof instead of rancid and stan spent like a whole week in the rolled up teeshirt, fuckboy snap back sexc handyman tool shed cosplay and almost fell off the roof several times waving excitedly at kyle who...was shamelessly oogling from his window...smh.

stan playing shirts vs skins soccer, stan gang vs. craig gang, but kyle was taking summer courses at the community college, and when he was done he came back to stan shouting his name, running across the field like he was in some coming of age romcom movie to hug kyle golden and glistening with outside boy athlete sweat, ( kyle made one sweat exception...he also almost died when that happened help ), stan got ice cream far too often and accidentally ate it in a way that god really did not intend and kept kyle up for many nights...

the things that stanley marsh did to kyle broflovski before he realized that he was in love with him...need to be punished by a court of law.

most notably, when they were cits at tardicaca last summer, kyle really said fuck them kids and almost lost several of them multiple times watching stan life guard behind his sunglasses...JAIL, BABY!

but of course, when summer is over, stan falls ill during fall and shuts down in winter kyle freaks out and rightfully so! ( like stan almost died of alcohol poisoning last year and even before that, has been sad and bad enough to warrant deep concern. ) and kyles sheilas son, so he does make stan keep his window open and his blinds up just so he can check on him and bring him stuff, come over, read, etc.

my personal taylor swift headstannon is that pep!stan and kyle do the notebook thing in you belong with me where they exchange notes through their windows ( kyle has definitely held up that really pathetic ‘i love you’ one while stan was in the bathroom...crying )

— it usually happens if one of them is grounded, if they're snowed in, if stan is trying to annoy kyle and get him to stop studying, or kyle is trying to nag stan into studying lmao...my sons who are in luv.

but yeah, stan's window is open for ( rip, suicide watch ) which means kyle's window is also open, so stan just gets to watch him do really cute winter boy things…

…like read his romance novel when no one is looking, dance awkwardly and adorably around his room to line without a hook ( kyle is very ricky montgomery coded to me like...mr. loverman HELLO!!! ), organize all his things, drink his stanley marsh peppermint hot cocoa in his stanley marsh stolen hoodie, or watch the snowflakes with wonderment, drawing things on the frosted glass.

and for a boy who was supposedly not in love with his super best friend...stan did spend a lot of time and got a lot of serotonin watching kyle through his window like his favorite tv show. smh.

b/c ky hates the sun. but really likes snow. it is just a very interesting scientific, natural and beautiful process to him. he gets really cold but that is okay, because he has anemic boy privileges and stan bundles him up in his varsity jacket and so many flannels and scarves its so funny, he's so worried about him. idk kyle gets really excited when it starts snowing, its so cute, stan is like aw kp!!!! :') <333

( stan always picks his little tea or latte up for him and kyle burns his mouth because he has no patience and burns his mouth every time so stan always orders him a kid temperature one....so cuuuute. )

basically the best way i can sum up how stan and kyle are during december is that kyle is this december by ricky montgomery and stan is december by neck deep, and is either the electric guitar or the acoustic version depending which bipolar episode he's in.

but yes, closing thoughts....pep stan is a summer sun, winter moon and kyle is a winter sun and a summer moon. he...lp. ta....da?

okay...phew.

go take a break if you've read this part. we have reached the halfway point folks. the end is in sight...but first...rm style seasons. ;) <3

starting with jersey....he is autumn, to which you might argue ( as kyle often does ), but nina! rm!jersey kyle is so much more cold, callous and brutal than pep!kyle, wouldn't he be winter instead?

but ah, dear scholar, you forgot that rm!kyle...is our Y/N.

as such, he loves september when school comes back around ( he does not know what to do when he's not being a student, i'm scared for him ), he delights very much in pumpkin spice flavored things, sits in grounded on his days off with his laptop doing his homework, hair put up, drowning in his gigantic cable knit sweater, or reading the news paper after his mock trials with his blazer hanging off the back of the chair, plaid slacks on, reading glasses on, sipping a london fog, having a cinnamon scone, enjoying the grey and misty weather.

for those reasons, jersey!kyle likes autumn, of course, but if you want the god honest truth...the reason kyle loves autumn...is because....

...stanley marsh was ( is ) autumn.

ravenstan just smells of cinnamon and spiced apple cider, chai tea, warm handmade blankets, firewood and whiskey. so during fall, everything just smells, tastes and feels like stanley marsh...which is the best thing in the world...and the worst fucking thing in the world.

because stan's was born in the fall...and died in the fall. :(

every autumn is honestly traumatizing for kyle, it's very bittersweet, even down to stan talking walks with him in the forest and having used to tell kyle that autumn looked like him because the leaves turn the color of his hair...but now kyle takes lonely walks in the city and can feel that emptiness next to him where stan should be. :'((

it's a harm and a comfort, honestly. he used to like aggressively hoard fall scented things when he was having really bad I See Stan episodes, but dr. margolis ( kyles therapist ) told him that that kind of obsessive behavior is unhealthy and he should avoid dwelling too much on stan during fall aka not order a bunch of cinnamon flavored stuff to soothe the sadness of his passing...but its...he slips a lot.

and when he falls in fall, he really falls HARD because he'll be making a coffee fine one second and then a man with blue eyes orders a chai tea latte and kyles hand is shaking so bad that he burns his arm on the machine and...i'm so sad. there's a little thing he does on stan's birthday every year, its kind of like a birthday tradition they used to do. i can't talk about it yet, but it will come up. its autumnal. :')

and onto the final part of this behemoth of an ask message, oh my god. stan, stan. ravenstan, who is so, so, so, soooo spring.

i know you guys don't know that much about him other than kyle's surface level reactions of him and psychosis around him being stan, but he is really like a persephone boy really that is a hades boy now.

he really is just like magical forest creature. all the flowers bloom and he just lights up. raven like...loves plants. he is my little witchy herbology botany boy king i love him so much. he could lay down in the grass for hoooours and could write so many songs about it. aaa!!!

kyle is disgusted by spring because his pollen allergy is so bad, but in the same way that winter kyle showed up for summer stan to watch him do hot boy outside boy summer things, autumn kyle shows up for spring stan doing soft sprite disney prince nature boy stuff <3

being up at the farm as far as randy goes was awful, but its really pretty during the spring and him and kyle used to just go out into the pastures, all the little meadows and divits, sit by the pond ( yes stan is that filthy nasty boy who chases all the bugs and frogs and gets covered and dirt and mud and everything smh...brother nature )

even before sheila hyperfixated on plying kyle with lavender to help him calm down from his panic attacks after stans 'death' because that's what the internet and all the specialists did -- stan used to make him cute little flower crowns and stuff and weave lavender into his hair and make him bracelets out of blades of grass and stuff...which i think he still has dreams about to this day.

...and i honestly think its hard for kyle to sit out in nature because it reminds him so aggressively of stan...the trauma omg. free my man!

also i'd say ravenstan like pep!stan would have been running around doing outside boy sports too during his month but...unfortunately the south park boys in elem/middle, specifically eric cartman was gatekeeping all of those sports...in a way that deeply disgusts me.

like okay, i feel like where pep!stan's thing was mostly football, ravenstan's thing is HOCKEY and wanted to join the hockey team or play hockey with all the south park boys and eric cartman was like

"you can't join sh*n because you're a g*rl!!!!”

....to which he proceeded to like aNNIHILATE and DECIMATE every single boy at hockey...like in a way that for a pacifist icon was so brutal and Iconic that multiple boys went home bruised and crying.

also he totally winked at kyle in his gigantic wayne gretski jersey with his big, charasmatic lopsided grin w/ his chipped front tooth and kyle was immediately in luv.

stan marsh when he was still stan marsh and 11...was such a literal fucking legend i love him. he really has so much true grit n tenacity.

small final note one hockey and ice sports though, kyle never played hockey with the boys because cartman was extremely cruel to him.

he also did not take to hockey but he is....really good at ice skating. nosm as a concept is so cute to me ( i think pep!kyle also learned to ice skate after the stark's pond incident ) but jersey kyle is secretly a really, really talented beautiful, graceful ice skater and stan was just fuckin bodying people in hockey and two languages. <3

and that's all? i think? my word.

EDIT: WAIT I FORGOT THAT ITS ALSO RAVENS FAVORITE SEASON BECAUSE KYLES BIRTHDAY IS IN SPRING ALSO! GAY!!!

tldr: pep!stan summer, pep!kyle winter, rm!jersey fall, ravestan spring

i hope this provided you with the kind of electric energy that i felt while writing it, i am currently levitating oh my god. if you're wondering why my updates are slow, it's because i waste my time writing ask memes the size of two updates for basic questions.

-uncle nina, ceo of style season

#okay...this is my masterpiece #but please do not read this if you don't want to its really long #and probably spelled very bad #but this feels extremely accurate to me #like idk if im being crazy but theyre all different seasons and people and it all makes so much sense in my crazy brain #also rip talking abt pepstyle...i fucking love my sweet soft boys i am...gonna try and write 12 again i miss them #also i feel like im talking too much abt rm but its taking me so long to write these chapters that like #i swear to god by chapter 7 ill have accidentally spoiled the whole fic to you guys i cant keep secrets #im just not sly like that and impaitent #BUT I HOPE THIS HELPS LMAO AND I HOPE IT FEELS ACCURATE TO YOU IT FEELS SCARY ACCURATE TO ME #LIKE IF I WAS GONNA FRAME AN ASK MEME IT WOULD BE THIS ONE RIGHT HERE #ALSO IM SORRY BUT IM RIGHT ARGUE W UR MOMMA OR THE WALL BUT NOT ME BABY!!!! IM RIGHT ABOUT THIS #now i gotta take a brain and hand break because that was...alot omg...*stan vc* wowza

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constellama · 1 year

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i think something’s happening now!! Uh oh !!!

Llama reads TRC: Chapters 22-25 of The Raven Boys

Chapter 22

Omg helicopter time

Loving the Helen and Gansey sibling banter

“That’s all.” WOOO GANSEY FINALLY RECOGNIZING HER VOICE

“Blue. Do you know Gansey?” OHOHO UH OH

This reoccurring triangle istg

Oh they’re ley lines. Why didn’t I realize that before.

“I’m always straight” “Oh, man, that’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told.” PFFFFT HAHHAAHA

oh my god A RAVEN !! I SURE HOPE THIS DOESNT MEAN ANYTHING !!! <- in fear

Chapter 23

I’m sorry the clocks are what.

Uh oh

“Noah?” WAIT. IS THIS. IS THIS WHERE WHELK DID THE RITUAL?? I COULD BE GETTING THIS COMPLETELY WRONG BUT !!! ITS MAKING ME THINK !!!

WHY ARE THE FISH RED WHATS HAPPENING

Do NOT stand in the tree cavity PLEASE

BLUE

Is she gonna get eaten by the tree

UHHH. WHAT

“Blue, kiss me” WHAT. WHAT WHAT WHAT WAIT WAIT HOLD ON

Adam :((( WHAT DID HE SEE

“I saw Glendower” everyone is having traumatic visions in the moldy tree meanwhile Gansey is living his Glendower kinnie fanfiction dream 😭

Chapter 24

What do you MEAN they were only there for 7 minutes WHAT

“Not that it’s not a cool name. Just that it’s…unusual.” Ok Richard Campbell Gansey III

Ronan chewing on his leather bracelets completely nonchalantly why is he like this /pos

“I’ve always liked the name Jane.” Gansey has too much audacity someone needs to humble him /lh /hj

“Although he couldn’t seem to stop teasing her.” Kanej thoughts are still plaguing my brain and this dynamic being in this book is Not helping /pos

Blue laughs for the first time at something Gansey said!!!

Chapter 25

Blue hanging out more with the Raven boys :D !!!

Adam describing the way Ronan swears at him in the most loving and affectionate way possible,,,

Blue Sargent 🤝 Zoya Nazyalensky Smelling like wildflowers and their love interests being obsessed with it

“He looked joyful and adoring, like a Labrador retriever.” NOAH IS A DOG BOY IM GONNA CRY

“This is precisely why I didn’t want to have a baby with you.” GANSEY?? COULD YOU NOT HAVE WORDED THIS ANY OTHER WAY???

Noah is such a creature I feel like if he was described to be hunched in a corner eating a live bird I wouldn’t question it. I love him sm

Noah Czerny 🤝 Inej Ghafa Appearing out of nowhere and scaring the crap out of their friends

Oooo creepy stone with writing on it

Uhh Ronan

“In case I didn’t recognize my own handwriting.” WHAT

Sorry for the long wait, finding time to read while also putting my thoughts down is hard BUT we’ve passed the halfway mark :))) I have a feeling something is about to go very very wrong and idk if I’m ready

#the raven cycle #the raven boys #blue sargent #richard gansey #adam parrish #ronan lynch #noah czerny #llama reads trc #constellama talks

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shipposttt · 6 months

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Ship of The Day: Drarry

Character Names: Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter

Ship Name: Drarry

Original Content: Harry Potter

Ship Info:

Drarry. It's time.

Coming from the Harry Potter franchise we see the ship involving the ‘Chosen One’ Harry Potter and ‘Death Eater’ Draco Malfoy, an enemy to lover's favourite among the community. So why do fans ship these two?

Many started shipping the two due to the rivalry (that some interpreted as flirtation), which made the enemies to lovers fans go wild.

For instance, when the two end up in punishment together and are heading into the forbidden forest. They both displayed feelings of fear and signs of being nervous, but due to being in company with each other, they both tried to hide their fear. As they go deeper into the forest and lose track of Fang, the two try to start up multiple conversations as a distraction to the fear they feel. Some read this as a sort of 'wanting to impress the other' sort of trope, however, it could just be argued to be toxic masculinity with the boys feeling like they should not display any type of fear or emotion that could make them seem weak to other males. Any 'feminine' feelings.

Tensions also during Hagrid's class are also a key factor in their flirtation with the constant back-and-forth arguments, that go on even in front of the class, giving off the vibe of being 'an old married couple'. And the fact they did it in front of others might display a sense of urgency to show others they have a connection.

And their rivalry on the Quidditch field, with both of them on opposite teams is also a key factor and main concept for many fanfictions. The two jostles around, push each other and hurl insults at each other giving more of a feel of friendly rivalry as they both try and win. But also a hint of admiration.

The two have also saved each other, showing to others that they do in fact view them as important enough to save fuelling the 'enemies-to-lovers' debate. For example, Harry saves Draco from the room of requirement. But this almost feels right since Harry is the hero. But when Draco did it, it really itched something in Drarry shipper's brains. The scene is when Draco lies and pretends not to know who Harry is when his face is distorted, saving his life and hinting he has some feelings for the boy who lived.

But the angst is also what had fans shipping the pair. For example when Harry nearly killed Draco in the bathroom while the two were having a dual, Harry using the Sectumsempera spell (which could have killed Draco) took their rivalry to another stage. But with these intense feelings, some fans also read it as them having a love so deep it boarders into hate. Love hurts Afterall.

The books are also quite an important contribution as to why many ship the pair, such as:

"Three boys entered, and Harry recognized the middle one at once: It was the pale boy from Madame Malkin's robe shop. He was looking at Harry with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley." "Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully- and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it" (Harry dreaming of Draco) "Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" said a voice Harry had no trouble recognizing. He straightened, and came face-to-face with Draco Malfoy..."

"Now Harry, when Draco points his wand at you, you do this."

He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it...

"Whoops - my wand is a little overexcited-"

"Harry, however, had never been less interested in Quidditch; he was rapidly becoming obsessed with Draco Malfoy. Still checking the Marauder's Map whenever he got the chance, he sometimes made detours to wherever Malfoy happen to be..."

I'll leave it up to your imagination as to why these quotes might lead to people shipping the duo.

Type of Ship: Queer Read

The two are very much not written without the intention of the two becoming a couple, it is all just fan interpretation and fanfics made for fans who might have wanted to see Draco get a redemption arc.

Some might also ship the pair due to the lack of well-written female characters that could have ended up with Draco. The only female we actually see him written to be friends with is Pansey (who isn't really given much character development or just character in general). And the one who would best counterbalance him would be Harry Potter. Their personality, their colour palettes, their family status and their houses. Each contradicts each other in every way. However both did end up with different people and a whole family, but their son's did become best friends which makes them always in contact with eachother in one way or another.

Admin, 🦒

(i am so sorry if this is not the best post but i did not really have much info of this ship beforehand and could not find much :,))

#fandom #gay ships #lgbtq community #ships #shipping #drarry #harry potter

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septembersghost · 1 year

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chronic illness flare has turned me into a soaking wet paper doll of a person, but i have tag games to catch up on and that's a fun distraction 😊💕

tagged by jenn my sweetie @castiel

show your lock screen, last celeb photo, and last song listened to

oh this is probably going to be embarrassing. okay so my most frequently used device unfortunately doesn't have a customizable lock screen. i am very lucky to have a secondary device i use quite often these days which was a gift from a friend who didn't need it anymore, and that one had a really pretty floral/lyric from the archer for ages, but now... (if i hadn't saved this picture of taylor and benji, the lock screen and photo would've been a neat display of matched insanity, could've hit a trifecta with the song too but fob swooped in at the last second.) anyway...

♥♥♥♥

tagged by (polk! salad!) dani @valkaryah: share my top 5 songs I've been listening to.

according to my current replay playlist, and without repeating artists, otherwise this would be very skewed, it's 1. any day now - elvis presley, 2. heartbreak feels so good - fall out boy, 3. all of the girls you loved before - taylor swift, 4. look at us now (honeycomb) - daisy jones and the six, 5. all my ghosts - lizzy mcalpine (the way lizzy has not left my rotation for a year!)

♥♥♥♥

tagged by darlings @thebohemianbelle and @waxandwanewitchery: when you get this, you have to put 5 songs you actually listen to

similar to the above, but different!!! if i snagged this from that weekly replay playlist, it would essentially be all of the same artists because my listening habits have been in a cycle of comfort lately, but i'll choose five that i do listen to a lot that are also in the list and weren't represented. 1. golden - harry styles, 2. say you love me - fleetwood mac, 3. just one of those things - frank sinatra, 4. supercut - lorde, 5. easy to love - ella fitzgerald

♥♥♥♥

tagged by @bloodmoonlits 😘 my top 4 current albums (the taste on yours, i love seeing recognition for holly!) mine are going to be so predictable here please send help. (i am making an executive decision to exclude taylor from this, but red tv and lover are actually battling it out for a top spot at the moment 💖)

♥♥♥♥

tagged by @headfullofpresley and @castiel: talk about 8 shows as a way to get to know me better. this is unexpectedly hard because rarely are the shows i most dearly love ones that i would openly recommend to another human being haha 😳 so let that be a disclaimer here as i wrack my brain. in no particular order:

(1). better call saul: i will never be as deranged about anything on television as i was about this show, scheming times were had, tragedies were felt, cinnamon rolls were eaten. kisses sealed at city hall, flowers blooming in the desert. my unpopular qualms with the last few episodes/ending aside, it was such a gorgeously layered, meticulously crafted show, i loved those characters so much, it was SUCH a cinematic treat visually, and nearly every step was finely tuned and written in such a thought-provoking way. every step was perfectly acted. i could still talk about it forever. kim wexler queen of my heart, you will always be famous. you don't save me. i save me. (shout-out to the magnificent, and inarguably definitive, predecessor breaking bad.)

(2). penny dreadful: this show is a glorious horror, a mess of victoriana, a fanfiction potpourri of some of the most famous characters of literature, no sane person should invest themselves in it. unfortunately, i, not sane, love it to the bone (except for the terrible ending, you'll catch a pattern here), predominantly because vanessa ives means everything to me. the flame to which all moths gather. defiant martyr of my heart. no one will ever be like her!!! she is my fierce compassionate sickgirl heroine, fighting against the shadows of her world, her soul forever unbowed and true. even when she fears that lost, she holds close her dignity, her ability to love, her perseverance. the poetry with which the show, particularly the first two seasons, was written is unmatched. it's gothic horror in a frame that no one else on television has ever attempted, and it felt made for me when i first watched it in january of 2020. for though it is macabre and gruesome and dark and steeped in grief, it's also about beauty and devotion and resilience and connection. "i see no wildflowers here."/"then you need to look closer." and the everlasting heartbeat, no matter what john logan did to her, my vanessa. something yet remains. i remain.

(3). bates motel: fun fact, i only started bates last february, i've watched S1-4 more than once, and yet still have not finished S5. i keep trying but i don't want to do it! it's a rare one where i already know the ending is fitting, i just keep pushing it off. it's a very difficult show, it deals with heavy themes, there's triggering and horrific stuff in the pilot alone that would immediately stop me from telling people to watch (or at least give me pause), yet at the same time i think it unexpectedly becomes one of the most brilliantly done pieces of television i've ever seen. they have this audacious idea - what if we made a prequel of one of the most iconic movies of all-time? - and somehow not only pull it off, but end up making that story richer and more meaningful. we KNOW we're plummeting towards inevitable tragedy and still wish it could be diverted. we are fascinated and repulsed and aching for the bonds these people share, the desperation as they try to survive. every character is flawed in ways that the story tries to claw humanity out of, and it does something distinct in never shaming or vilifying any of the protagonists for the wretched things they do, never talking down to the audience saying we should be judging them or wishing ill on them, but rather examining WHY they are this way, why they act and react as they do, how they have been bent into these strange shapes. it exhumes your empathy and refuses to let you turn away from the difficulties of their world. the house looms forever like a breathing entity in the background. we will always end up in the basement, but how it comes to happen is the more important tale. and it has the incomparable powerhouse of norma bates, wonderful, awful, extraordinary, complicated, half queen, half little girl. she was like a miracle. as with vanessa, i will never forget her. (another pattern you'll see here: WOMEN.)

(4). remington steele: this was the very first "grown up" show i was ever allowed to watch with my mom, in syndication when i was a kid, and i just love it so much. it's such a delight. 80s glamour! mysteries and hi-jinks! THEE ultimate will-they/won't they romance, and she doesn't even know his real name! try this for a deep dark secret - the great detective remington steele? he doesn't exist. i invented him. follow - i always loved excitement, so i studied, and apprenticed, and put my name on an office, but absolutely nobody knocked down my door... i can recite the whole first season intro monologue, burned into my brain from age twelve. we just finished a rewatch a few weeks ago and i miss them already. laura holt is intelligent, beautiful, romantic, indefatigable, the closest thing the small screen has had to a classic noir inspired brassy leading lady, and was FORMATIVE for me.

(5). crazy-ex girlfriend: they put a musical on television for me. immediate hit right there. many of the numbers are parodies/homage, cheeky and clever but still heartfelt. then it became one of the funniest, most poignant, most empathetic, most memorable explorations of infatuation, self-worth, and most significantly mental health that i have ever seen. there have been a couple of other musical concept shows (smash, notably), but none that achieved what cxg did. it's an extraordinary work and sometimes i can't believe it was allowed to exist, and got to flourish the way it did. rebecca bunch could so easily be called unlikable - selfish, impulsive, obsessive - and yet she is so lovable and so real through all of her flaws, how can you not root for her, laugh with her, sing with her, cry with her? how can you not want her to get better? you find, eventually, it was never even about the guys, though they're fun to explore in all their neuroses too. they're almost...irrelevant. "a diagnosis" will never not make me weep. the show is just so important. this is about the story of a woman who learns how to recover, how to build true friendships (#gurlgroup4eva), and how to embrace herself.

(6). that girl: another one my mom brought me up on, and there are other shows i could mention here (i love lucy, the dick van dyke show, the addams family) as far as prototypes of modern comedy go (there is a direct line from that girl to the mary tyler moore show to friends and new girl), but that girl is particularly dear to me because it was influential to my mom, and because ann marie is a character all her own. she's quirky, she's determined, she's got the greatest 60s fashion, she's constantly getting herself into situations, she's one of the very first sitcom heroines to be a "single girl in the city" and to directly confront sexism (in multiple ways, but especially in the workplace and in the entertainment industry), she is loved and adored by her boyfriend (one of the best and most patient of all fictional boyfriends), but she is not defined by don, they complement each other. marlo thomas, the icon that you are.

(7). pretty little liars: listen. i know. I KNOW. it's silly, it's ridiculous, it has a host of issues, but i was hooked. and the thing is, though the mysteries fizzled and the reveals didn't make sense, what mattered were those girls. female friendship was the heart of everything in that story, they stood by each other and supported each other through every danger, toil, and snare, and even when they messed up, they forgave each other and came back together as a team every time. -A hardly matters, but the liars are everything. young volcanoes. aria, hanna, emily, and spencer all mean so much to me for very different reasons, and spencer especially. my genius, tenacious, too-caring girl. down these mean streets a girl must go who is not herself mean.

(8). supernatural: sigh. would be remiss not to mention it, right? have, in fact, written what amount to personal essays and fanciful poetics on this blog explaining at length what it once meant to me, have delved into the folklore urban legend americana of it all, and while i have gained a certain distance from it since the palpable breakdown i had from its ending that we do not acknowledge, those entries would hold true. it was so formative that things which are on this list would not be here without it, and i know that. it's so inextricable that i can't tell what is a thread connected to it in my life and what isn't at times. premiered on my birthday and presented me one of the greatest loves of my life, who i will always carry with me. i would not quite be me without dean. i would not be here right now without dean, in more ways than one. and i do my best to be brave.

(honorable mentions to shows tam and jenn had on their lists: the x-files, tvd/the originals, the marvelous mrs. maisel; other honorable mentions: btvs/a:ts, bones, dexter, fleabag S2, gilmore girls, the good place, jane the virgin, nancy drew/hardy boys mysteries, orphan black, the haunting of bly manor, select episodes of doctor who, i am quite certain i'm forgetting a bunch!)

for this last one i am tagging @nerdfaerie, @arthurwilde, @desireearmfeldt, @someoneoffthestreet, @freakwiththeknifecollection, @bcyoureallthatmakessense, @setyourfireonme, @dewintering, @joons, @thebohemianbelle, @beckybloomwood, @takeawaythepain, and @wickedhawtwexler, but also any of you who wants to do this, or any of the rest of these, please do, and then tag me!!! i love to see them! i apologize profusely for the pervasive brainrot. 💟

#tag games #jess.mess #about me #managed to fix the formatting after tumblr tried to eat it thank goodness 😌#i snagged the 13 of your from my recent activity but obviously as always this is open to everyone ilu

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beevean · 2 months

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❄️🍓🦋🪲

❄️ ⇢ what’s your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

Not really sure. I still dream of picking back my first CoD project, writing Isaac's descent into madness between CV3 and CoD... But I don't know who I'd trust lol.

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?

I loved to write when I was a kid lol, but fanfiction not so much. My only fanfic back then was an attempt at a novelization of Sonic Adventure, so not exactly creative. I guess I was always happy with canon lmao.

More recently, I started writing when my brain was being eaten by the ShTH worms, and I wanted to put on paper my interpretation of the Pure Dark route because I don't see much appreciation for Black Doom's creepy manipulation of Shadow.

And that's more or less what still keeps me going lol. "No one cares about this niche concept, so I'll do it to shut Brain up."

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately

In general? That I'm proud of myself for regaining my bravery :)

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

Okay. Have 181 lol.

“The first few years were some of the happiest of my life. All of my fears and doubts had been washed away. I thought I had found my peace.” The years went by in a whirlwind of discoveries, yellowed books written in arcane languages, and infernal power that infused life in Hector, from Lord Dracula’s fingertips to his own. He had carved in his heart the enchantment that was key for turning a wisp of conjured matter into life. Isaac demanded that he recited it every day – every night? Did day and night have a meaning, in Lord Dracula’s realm? The moon always loomed high in the sky, enormous and blood red, and it put in Hector’s mind the image of a vigilant guardian watching all of them. Isaac taught him how to keep track of time thanks to the moving stars – you don’t need the sun, he had reassured him – and it didn’t take long for Hector, who was already used to waking up in the middle of the night, to grow comfortable with the perpetual darkness surrounding the castle.

(I hate this part so much, you have no idea, I just want to be done with it, I need to edit it in a presentable way ASAP but brain won't brain)

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cartoonsaint · 8 months

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back in 2020 i wrote a werewolf!David fic for Camp Camp and then got through about a quarter of its sequel before getting distracted. at this point it's unlikely i'm ever going to finish it but it sounds like there's at least one person out there who wants to read it, which makes this a good advertisement for leaving comments on seemingly abandoned works, doesn't it? anyways this is 7.8k, probably rated T, and i do not have the wherewithal (werewithal? hohoha) to reread rn so i can't offer any content warnings or fix any weird grammar or anything, but. here's it.

my semi-jokey working title for it was THERE'S ONLY ONE BED AND ALSO ONE OF US IS A WEREWOLF

CHAPTER ONE

Gwen wakes up.

She’s not sure what does it, because usually it takes the blaring of her alarm — as well as a few judicious smacks to the snooze button — for her to admit that the day is starting whether she wants it to or not and she had better drag herself out of bed if she doesn’t want the camp to burn down around her ears.

She’s long since come to terms with the fact that while she can effortlessly stay up late into the night reading fanfiction or binging television, even with a full eight hours under her belt the first thing she’s gonna want to do in the mornings is take a nap. Gwen just really, really isn’t a morning person.

By the grey light filtering through the windows, Gwen bets the sun hasn’t even properly risen yet. She’s not due to muddle her way through her morning routine for at least another hour, and in fact it’s so early that David’s still probably asleep.

That catches at something in her sleep-foggy brain. Had she had another dream about him, maybe? Something about… monsters? Statistically, and given the subject, it was probably a sex dream, but what…?

On a whim she turns over, intending to send her sleeping coworker a baleful glare for daring to have a presence in the confusing subconscious arena of her dreams — it’s not the first time, sure, but she uhhh.

Wolf.

That, uh… wolf.

Gwen stares at the sleeping beast in the room with her, suddenly wide awake, and does her best to regulate her breathing as she simultaneously curses David to hell. This is somehow his fault, she just knows it — leave it to Mr. Nurse-Back-to-Health-the-Wolf-That-Tried-to-Kill-Me to bring a wild animal into the cabin without telling her. Now she’s probably going to get eaten and leave behind all her unedited work and become famous for her talent posthumously instead of midhumously, or whatever, which is how she’d really, really prefer it.

Can wolves smell fear? She’s pretty sure they can, so she thinks happy, not-scared thoughts, like how happy she’ll feel when she throttles David for this. The animal is huge, taking up a sizable portion of her co-counselor’s bed, even though it’s curled up sleeping at the moment. The bed’s wool blanket and sheet are half-covering it, almost like it tried to burrow itself underneath them, and it has David’s stupid plush log between its front paws. It breathes in and out with great, calm gusts of breath, and Gwen thinks about how often wolves need to eat, how fetid its breath probably is, and the fact that she has virtually nothing with which to defend herself besides some trashy magazine she could maybe roll up and use to bonk its nose, like a poorly behaved mutt.

I’m freaking out a little, Gwen realizes, watching the tendrils of first light reach across the room. Knowing her luck, they’ll wake it up. Oh well. I had a good run. Well, an alright run. Well, I definitely had a run, anyway.

She practically holds her breath as the sun creeps in through the windows, sure that any moment might wake the beast and spell her doom. Maybe she’ll be able to miraculously pull David’s guitar out of nowhere and defend herself — but no, too quickly, the barest hint of sunlight touches the thing’s paw, and it gives a great twitch that has Gwen flinching — and then the wolf changes.

She’s not sure what she’s seeing at first. Its muzzle wrinkles as though in a snarl but then shrinks. The pointed ears on its head flatten back and disappear into its dark red fur, which itself seems to be absorbed back into its skin, leaving pale, pinkish flesh behind. Its paws stretch and lengthen into long, calloused, human fingers, and the whimper that comes out of its throat morphs mid-syllable into a distinct, familiar, and absolutely absurd “ouchie.” The figure left half-blanketed on the bed opens ocean green eyes over an upturned pink nose and effortlessly smiles at the new day.

The figure looks an awful lot like David sporting a week’s worth of facial hair.

The figure is David.

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” Gwen croaks, and David blinks his big green eyes over at Gwen, looking faintly puzzled.

“Gwen? What are you doing awake?” he whispers (only sounding a little raspy, the bastard).

Gwen’s mind is racing, frantically calling up memories from the past two days, belatedly recalling that last night she’d learned without a shadow of a doubt that David — bouncy, clumsy, sunshine-y David, her coworker of too many years and the least brood-over-his-loss-of-humanity guy she’s ever known, that David — was a bonafide werewolf.

He’s still looking at her, apparently wide-awake and ready to be properly concerned about his “CBFL!” despite the fact that no sane person should be awake at this hour. She tries to say something, something intelligent, so that he knows she’s fine and can stop turning the force of his way-too-bright eyes on her.

“Wurwuf,” her stupid mouth manages.

He looks confused, briefly, before a metaphorical lightbulb goes off so obviously that Gwen practically has to squint at its brightness. “Oh yeah! I change back when the sunlight hits me — it hurts, but I hope I wasn’t too loud. Did I wake you up?”

He looks so intensely unhappy at the possibility that Gwen finds herself shaking her head before she can properly process what he said, and he smiles warmly at her. Fortunately it’s not one of his overwhelming ones but instead the softer kind, the kind he wears when he’s had a long day or a camper pleasantly surprises him.

“I’m glad,” he says with one hundred percent honesty, and he sits straight up in bed like it’s easy to get his muscles to work in the morning. “I was a little worried! You should go back to sleep, Gwen. I know how hard you’ve been working, and I dumped a lot on you last night. I’ll take breakfast duty, okay?”

“Mm,” she says, and he gives her another smile — jesus it’s too fucking early for this — and daintily wraps a sheet around his body, heading to the bathroom. She watches him go, humming like it’s any other day, until he closes and latches the door behind him with a snk.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT, Gwen mentally screams, and bites her fist hard. David’s a werewolf. David is a werewolf. It’s a brand new day and her coworker (and, fine, friend) David is a WEREWOLF who literally transformed in front of her very eyes into a huge, potentially terrifying beast.

She’s going to have so much to write about.

Speaking of, she scrambles out of bed for her notebook and pen. She’d been limited by David’s inability to talk as a wolf, but through yes and no questions and some dubiously successful attempts at charades she’d ended up with a decent number of pages written out about his new condition. It’s a solid start on figuring out what they can expect and how this whole thing works.

Of course, like every normal person, Gwen herself went through a Weird Wolf Girl phase. Though it’s been considerably more than a decade since then, she’s sure she hasn’t forgotten that much about them — and besides, with all the supernatural shapeshifter romances she’s read in the years since then, she’s pretty confident she can fill in any gaps in her knowledge.

She starts drafting questions, both for David and the Quartermaster (who of course has a hook in this, that guy is so freaky). Like: David turns into a four-legged wolf every time moonlight touches him, but is there a way to control when the change happens? Could he stop the change partway through? Is his werewolfism unique, or is there a pack out there somewhere? And are there any single werewolves her age? If so, how would Gwen go about meeting them?

Quietly, Gwen lets out a high-pitched squeal — werewolves are real, and she knows one. It’s too bad it’s David, since that precludes any hot paranormal action on her end, and has precluded any action between them since their first week working together. But maybe he’ll meet some other, more masculine werewolves and he could introduce her?

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, Gwen,” she whispers. “Reel it in.”

She spends a brief moment in deep breathing, trying to meditate… and then shrugs it off to bounce excitedly on her bed. Even if this isn’t quite the way she’d imagined it, werewolves! This could be a major change in her life, the kind she’d hoped Graggle would be, the kind she’s been waiting for as long as she can remember.

And who knows — he might still be David, but being a werewolf might make him more interesting, too. She grabs her pillow and muffles a disbelieving, embarrassingly girly squee into it, grinning. She can’t wait to see how things change.

***

In retrospect, maybe Gwen should have expected to be disappointed.

The activity for that day is Rube Goldberg Machines (“Max really enjoyed this one last year, Gwen!!”) and even though, as always, Gwen had told him during last week’s activity-planning session that it was going to be a disaster (“David, it’s going to be a disaster.”), the day is just… regular.

Which isn’t to say it’s not a disaster, but it is a pretty regular one. Harrison and Preston team up against Erid and Nerris to create competing death machines, which results in David stepping into the middle of their feud and getting the crap beaten out of him by mechanically-operated cardboard. Max and his friends are suspiciously quiet in a way that Gwen would be more concerned about if she wasn’t so busy trying to prevent Nurf from incorporating Dolph and Space Kid as living pieces of his machine. Mr. Campbell shows up at some point with an intriguing but useless story about his time in a Russian ballet school and then disappears pretty much as soon as she asks him to help. The Quartermaster is there.

Gwen waits all day, anticipation thrumming through her veins, for David to do something different. Just… one thing that would indicate that he’s secretly a paranormal, shapeshifting, not-quite-human creature. Maybe some supernatural speed, or a snarl at being bashed over the head by their terrible campers. Hell, she’d accept a mysterious, darkly longing look towards the woods. Anything.

But David spends the whole day totally normal, with his usual mix of peppiness, anxiety, and the occasional oh-so-human shriek of pain.

It’s not like Gwen really believed (much less had her heart set on) all those books about the super capable, brooding werewolf leads, but… It’s not easy to reconcile the rugged, snarling, coverboy antiheroes with a twiggy, delicate David who’s too busy trying to put a positive spin on marble-powered rocket launchers to realize his bandana is on fire.

Needless to say, Gwen’s exhausted by the end of the day, and for all his talk David hurries the kids along to bed as well. She leans against a tree, watching him interact with the torturous little shits with near-endless patience even in the light of the rising moon. It’s impressive, given that David wears his heart on his sleeve (along with every other organ he has in his body), but right now his impression of not being twitchy as hell is nearly passable. Even if some of the kids notice, they won’t worry; besides the Problem Trio, none will suspect it’s anything to do with the supernatural.

Also, of course Max, Neil, and Nikki found out about it; Gwen is going to grill Max about that as soon as she gets the chance, and then she’s going to kill David for letting it slip so quickly.

...then again, it’s admittedly something of a miracle that the whole camp doesn’t already know; she might have to let this slide. You should still know better! she thinks loudly, glaring at the back of David’s head as he suffers Nikki using him as a climbing post. He glances back at the same moment, catches her look, and hurriedly starts trying to disentangle the wild kid from his hair.

Gwen winces, then sighs in frustration — she hadn’t actually meant for him to catch that. Great going, Gwen.

Despite the revelations of the past few days, David really does seem just the same: goofy muppet-long limbs, pointy elbows, big smiles papered over a mess of anxiety, enthusiasm, and bad ideas. He’s not even more muscular or anything — though to be fair, he’s always been stronger than he looks. With his wiry muscles, he’s capable of lifting way more than Gwen expects — but the fact remains that he’s always looked delicate.

He’s not, of course — though he cries more easily than most people, it’s usually an emotional rather than physical response. He bounces back from just about any injury, leaping into the next activity with all the grace of a newborn deer. Gwen can admit that it’s somewhat compelling; she can’t help admiring his determination to keep moving forward.

Finally disengaged from Nikki, David puts his hands on his hips, tilting them in the opposite direction of his head. The move puts him on an appealing slant that emphasizes how long and slim he is, the slope of his neck leading into the sharp cut of his shoulders, hidden slightly by his dumb bandana. He fiddles with it now, throwing an uncertain glance her way.

He’d said the freaky magic necklace wasn’t comfortable to wear, and she wonders exactly how: does it intensify things? Is it like holding in a sneeze? After working so closely with him for so long, she’s intimately familiar with his energy levels; it’s not been the kind of day that usually ends in mania or an anxiety attack, but he’s twitchier than usual anyway. Is that related?

Finally taking pity, Gwen steps in. She manages to convince Harrison that the woods aren’t going to come alive while he sleeps (a weird, newly emerged fear she’s keeping a close eye on) and bundles Space Kid in his favorite rocket blanket so that David can devote his attention to Nerris’s pleas to stay up later so they can fight the dark elves together (which honestly seems like the kind of bullshit she should read up on, because that doesn’t sound like the sort of thing an impressionable kid should be absorbing). Together, they get the kids down only twenty minutes past the scheduled time.

David is unmistakably anxious on the way to the Counselors Cabin. When he hesitantly asks, “Am I in trouble?” Gwen can’t help but sigh.

“No, David. I’m just thinking,” she admits. “We need to make sure none of the rest of the kids find out that you’re a werg— a, a werewolf.” She silently curses herself for stumbling over the word again. What’s wrong with her? “Why did you have to let Max know? You must have realized he’d find a way to take advantage of this.”

“We-e-ell…” David starts, avoiding eye contact in a way that compounds Gwen’s fatigue.

“David.”

“I didn’t mean to!! He was just there and the moon was out and he broke the necklace and obviously if I had known I wouldn’t have put him in that situation, but the Quartermaster was being very coy about my being a werewolf so I had no idea what was coming —“

“Wait wait wait,” Gwen interrupts; David shrinks guiltily. “You didn’t know? You mean Max was there the first time you —?” She cuts herself off, brain whirring through his behavior since he got back from his disastrous trip in the woods a few weeks ago. She doesn’t like the conclusion she comes to.

Dreading his answer, she asks, “When was this?”

“Um.” David counts briefly on his fingers, lips pursed in thought. “A-about a week ago?”

“A week?!”

“A, a little less, actually,” he admits, cringing.

Gwen stops walking. “It’s been less than a week.”

Cautiously, he nods, his red hair flopping, and Gwen stares at him. It occurs to her suddenly that David has, hilariously, really been thrown to the wolves here: he doesn’t actually know anything about being a werewolf. His life has just changed, majorly and possibly permanently, and his only guide is the laconic and decidedly unhelpful Quartermaster… and Gwen herself.

“Right,” Gwen manages, and starts walking again. David follows, chattering nervously, but she barely hears him, thinking about what he’d said to her yesterday morning (practically forever ago): that he hadn't wanted to be a burden, but he needed her help.

Where is she even supposed to start?

She watches him throw his arms up to emphasize a point she hasn’t heard and catches sight of how long and delicate his fingers are, even with his summer camp callouses. They’re the same as ever, but somehow that makes Gwen feel like he’s even more fragile than usual, like if she even touched his shoulder he might shatter or maybe even bolt. But if she wants to figure this out properly, she needs more information… so she’s extra careful when she puts forth her next question.

“So you gonna let me watch tonight?” she asks, and then bites her tongue hard because that did not come out like she wanted it to, Gwen what is wrong with you.

Fortunately, the look David sends her is one of innocent surprise, rather than one assuming that she just propositioned him.

“Um, sure!!” he says, voice edging just past bubbly and into manic; he tugs at his bandana, revealing a flash of silver chain. Then, to her horror, a very noticeable flush starts to crawl up the back of his neck — shit, does he think she just propositioned him? “I-it’s just… well, I can’t really afford to ruin any more camp uniforms, s-so, um, I’d have to be —“

“Spit it out, David,” she advises, not completely dickishly.

“—naked, I’d have to be naked,” he blurts out, and pulls his bandana up around his cheeks to hide his embarrassment.

Gwen has to blink at him for a few seconds. Is he seriously that embarrassed about her catching an eyeful when they’ve lived in close quarters this long? And when he’s going to turn into a giant, fuckoff werewolf??

“David. I promise not to look at your dick,” she says, which to her amusement makes him squeak and turn as red as his hair. He flutters a nervous hand at her, glancing around like a camper could appear anywhere — which, to be fair, they could: Gwen has learned not to underestimate the little bastards.

She bumps her shoulder into his, because she’s too awkward to offer comfort in a normal way. “Are you seriously more freaked out about the naked thing than the werewolf thing?”

“It’s not… appropriate,” he hisses, still flushed and harried-looking. “You shouldn’t have to —“

“I don’t have to; I want to. To see you transform, I mean,” she corrects. “Into a wolf. Not to — yeah. But I do want to see the transforming shit again because it was seriously the coolest thing I have ever seen.”

As per usual, David opens the door to the Counselors Cabin and lets Gwen through first, which is why she sees the set-up, recognizes the intended purpose, and is already exhausted and dismayed by its outcome by the time David cheerfully flicks on the lightswitch.

“Oh,” he says, pleasantly surprised, as his action triggers the set of three marbles to start rolling down the halved cardboard tubes that have been taped together into an impressively complicated contraption. The blue marble hits and tips over a precariously balanced jug of water, the yellow one continues to pick up speed as its path steepens, and the mint-green one just barely nudges a piece of cheese into the grubby little hands-reach of a caged squirrel. “Wow,” David says, delighted, while Gwen traces the future paths of the machine and reaches the signs neatly taped to the wall above David’s bed.

“GWEN DON’T INTERFERE. I PROMISED I WOULDN’T SET A FIRE BUT NEIL DIDN’T. MAX.”

“Ooo, great use of weighted pullies,” David says appreciatively, while a baby headache is born right behind Gwen’s eyes.

Next to Max’s note is one with Neil’s precise handwriting. “Sorry for getting carried away but I needed to test my abilities. Neil.”

The squirrel has tugged up the string tied to the key to its cage and is furiously trying to unlock its prison; another domino falls just as the scale overbalances. Gwen’s headache has learned to walk and is joyfully crashing into the walls of her brain.

Nikki’s note (which, for some reason, is dripping with an unknown reddish liquid) says, “it seemed like the best use of our time. also the squirrel needed to know who was boss.”

“That’s such a creative use of a windchime!” David says, proud as anything, as Gwen recognizes an open container of lighter fluid, realizes that the last note is written in Campbell’s chunky scrawl, and her headache throws a screaming teenage tantrum about how unfair its life is.

“IT SEEMED LIKE A GOOD CAMP ACTIVITY FOR THE CHILDREN! ALSO THEY BRIBED ME. SORRY! CAMERON C. CAMPBELL.”

“Gwen, look at how they combined their machines here! Oh, I’m so proud, this is such great teamwork,” David coos and then the lighter fluid tips over, the bedspread catches fire, the squirrel frees itself to launch its horrible little rodent body across the room, and Gwen’s headache graduates summa cum laude with a full degree in Fuck You Gwenology.

Even if she hasn’t been through this exact scenario before, Gwen knows how this goes. David’s mattress will be reduced to kindling (an inevitability each summer; honestly, she’s a little proud of how long it lasted this year), David will shriek as the squirrel makes claw-contact with his face, and Gwen will calmly murder every person responsible for ensuring she has more work to do before she can goddamn relax. She’s already heading towards the fire extinguisher when David surprises her.

Instead of getting a faceful of furious-slash-terrified squirrel and screeching his fool head off, David whips a hand out faster than Gwen can follow and snags the thing out of the air. She hardly notices, though, distracted as she is by the sudden, ferocious snarl that transforms David’s face, revealing a set of gleaming, razor-sharp fangs that make him look a whole lot more… monstrous.

Oh, fuck, Gwen thinks, frozen to the spot.

The squirrel squeals, panicked, and David’s growling cuts off abruptly with a sharp little gasp. He loosens his grip enough that the animal can scramble out of his hands and out the swinging screen door, not even bothering to scold them on the way out. David automatically tracks its movements, his green eyes flashing and shoulders tense.

Thwack, goes the cabin door. Gwen stares at David, who himself stares at where the squirrel had disappeared, before a full-body shudder goes through him and he wraps his arms around his middle.

“S-sorry,” he says, voice small. Gwen blinks at that, still a bit dazed, but he keeps his eyes down. “I didn’t mean — I mean, I just —“ He hunches into himself, making himself even smaller.

Realization sparks in Gwen — he feels shitty about this, I should do something — and then David takes a sudden, deep breath, filling his lungs and straightening to his full height. His shoulders are still tense but he’s forced them down, like he’s relaxed, and when he smiles at her it’s practically normal.

But Gwen knows David, and she knows his smiles, and this one is bad: her eyes rove over his face, cataloguing the tension in his brow, the slight tremble of his upper lip, how few teeth he’s actually showing. “David,” she starts, uncertain what she’s going to say.

“It’s okay!” he assures her, voice bright and tight, flapping an insistent hand in dismissal. “I was just — that, um, startled me, is all. I didn’t mean to — to… is something burning?”

Gwen turns so fast she gives herself whiplash. “Oh fuck, the bed!!”

“O-oh — !”

These days she’s old hat at putting out fires, but the lighter fluid and the relatively extended burn time mean that even after Gwen empties a full fire extinguisher, it’s quite clear that the mattress isn’t the only thing sacrificed to the blaze.

“My bed,” David says weakly. The headboard has collapsed into the slats of the bed frame, which are themselves burned through, and its legs are heavily charred; it looks like it might fall apart in a stiff breeze, leaving behind just a pile of ashes. “W-well, we could —“

“The extra camper cots won’t hold an adult’s weight,” Gwen points out numbly. Do they still have — ?

“And Mr. Campbell took the last bedframe from storage when he moved in,” David notes, and Gwen adds another thing to her mental “Reasons to Kill Cameron Campbell” list. “Good thing I —“

“No, Max traded your sleeping bag to the Wood Scouts to get them to take Jermy back,” Gwen reminds him, pinching the bridge of her nose. Quartermaster probably has more supplies, but he’s left for the night to do… Quartermaster things, and Gwen doesn’t actually know how to contact him until the morning.

“Right,” David sighs. “But the hammock — ?”

“Could you even use it when you’ve got —“ she claws at the air, giving him a faux snarl, which immediately makes her feel like a huge, stupid asshole, but she perseveres — “you know, four legs?”

With each back and forth, David sinks down a little more — but at that last one he perks up a bit. “Oh! Gwen, I’ll be a wolf. I don't need a bed, I’ll just sleep outside!”

“David,” Gwen begins, already prepared to try to make him see reason, but then she actually catches sight of his expression and pauses, considering.

Because David isn’t looking at her. His eyes dart from the remains of his bed to her desk to the bathroom door to the open window, whereupon he flinches and looks anywhere else til he’s inevitably drawn back to it. His hands are clasped in front of him like he’s pleased, but Gwen can see them trembling. “Plus, I feel like — I think there’s something different in the air, and I just want to check it out, make sure everything’s okay. And Harrison was so nervous at bedtime — I should probably check on him. And the Quartermaster probably needs help setting things up, so…”

He wants to get away, Gwen realizes. His reaction to the squirrel was different than he’s used to and it scared him. He needs to process it alone.

“Fine,” Gwen blurts out, and David shuts his mouth, eyebrows dipping in confusion.

“Huh?”

“Go. We don’t have to — You can show me the transformation another night. I’ll take care of the bed and any kids who come calling. If you need — some time, or some space, David, then go get it.” She has to mentally scream at herself to do it, but she raises a pretty convincingly casual hand to pat his shoulder. “I’ll take care of things here. You go do what you need, okay?”

He looks uncertain, but he does lean into her touch. Gwen fights to keep her face normal. “Gwen, are you sure? I don’t want to leave you alone with everything again…”

“It’s fine, David,” she says, and finds that she means it. He asked her for her help, and if this is what it takes, well. “Go. Run around, burn off some energy, do what you need. I’ll cover you.”

He bites his lip, incidentally flashing those sharp teeth. Gwen determinedly keeps her eyes on his. “If you’re sure it’s okay…”

“I am. Go do your thing, David.”

The tense worry on his face melts away, and when he smiles at her it’s easy. “Thanks, Gwen,” he says, and before she can react he wraps his arms around her in a firm hug.

Gwen tries not to freeze up or anything, but she’s so awkward — she ends up patting his shoulder again (like an idiot) until he finally loosens his warm grip and steps away to open the cabin door. He aims one last grateful smile at her; it practically lights up the whole room.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Gwen. Thanks again.”

“Yee-up,” she says, and gives him a thumbs-up until the screendoor thwacks shut behind him.

She stands there for a long moment, listening to his footsteps fade away. Then, when she’s sure he’s gone, she numbly reaches for her pillow. She presses her face into it and takes a couple deep breaths.

Then she screams, because she has to clean up the remains of the burned bed and figure out how this werewolf thing works for David and make sure the camp keeps running and now she’s going to have to do all that with the awareness that David might be hot now.

He’s not allowed to be. Their whole thing works because he’s not her type. They have to work so closely together to make this damn place run, reading each others’ intentions and patching each other up and practically working on top of and underneath each other; Gwen can’t do that if she has to worry about her hormones acting up just because her stupid coworker actually has some monster-y traits to go with the fact that technically, now he’s a monster.“Fuck,” she says, and it scrapes at her throat but it feels good anyways, so she says it again as she tries not to think about sharp teeth in an innocent smile. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

CHAPTER TWO

Gwen wakes up.

She keeps her eyes shut for a few moments. Sleep waits for her, solemn and warm, but something in the outside world is just off enough that she doesn’t surrender to it quite yet. Sluggishly, consciousness comes online.

She has a body. Her body is wrapped in a warm blanket. She’s still cold. She scrunches her nose and pulls her limbs in tighter, which helps a little, but not as much as the sudden cut-off of cold air that accompanies the screendoor’s muffled thwack.

Is David seriously coming in and out of the cabin at this hour? That deserves a squinted glare at the very least. Gwen rolls over to offer the stink-eye to her erstwhile coworker for his early morning volume, only —

The windows show only dark grey outside. Rain splatters half-heartedly against the panes. The digital clock on David’s night table illuminates the digits 7:08, more than twenty minutes before her first phone alarm is due to go off. Though the light inside the cabin is limited, it’s enough for Gwen to make out the rough outline of an enormous animal standing just in the doorway. It looks directly at her; its reflective eyes are brilliant and strange.

Her heart skips a beat. Then its pace increases, along with her breathing, because what the fuck, it’s gonna eat her —

A quiet, pitiful whine escapes the beast. It sounds pathetically sad, like Missy when Gwen’s dad won’t share his hamburger, but besides that universal doggy plea, something else about it seems... familiar.

She switches on her lamp before she can doubt herself.

The scant golden light reveals an unnaturally large wolf, its four paws placed carefully on the doormat. It is covered in thick red fur, Gwen knows, but not one hair of that is visible beneath its coat of caked, dripping mud. Its big green eyes are pleading.

“Christ, David,” she says hoarsely, and stumbles to her feet, already reaching for the box of garbage bags left out last night after she cleaned up the charred remains of his bed. She can cut one open and lay it down like a tarp; it’ll catch any mud he drips on the way to the bathroom so it won’t spread to the rest of the cabin. Where are her scissors?

She lurches about the cabin, trying to prep it for a muddy werewolf. Her brain is working, technically, running through where the spare towels are and what she’ll need, but it’s still too early for things to quite make sense. Werewolf? Sure, that’s logical, she can handle that. But shouldn't David have turned back by now?

“C’mon,” she says to him once she has a line of slit open trashbags laid out. David steps carefully along her path, his tail and ears down, and hops immediately into the tub without the need for her to explain. Pulling her hair back in a loose ponytail, Gwen locates an old, refillable slurpee cup, then squats on the bathmat and turns the water on.

It’s cold, as it always is first thing in the morning, but David doesn’t even react; his fur must be super thick. Still, she waits until it hits a reasonable temperature before plugging the bath and filling the mega slurpee cup. “Stay still, okay?” Placing a hand on his furry brow to prevent the water from getting in his eyes, she pours it over his head… which makes hardly any difference to the mud stuck fast to his fur.

Gwen rocks back onto her heels, frowning. “Think we’re gonna need more than water,” she tells David, who woofs so very softly in reply that even in her sleep-muzzy state she can’t help smirking a little. “Is that a yes?” His tail starts to wag, disturbing the already-clouded water filling the tub. “Yeah? You want some soap or shampoo or some shit, David?”

To her amusement, his tail wags even harder — he’s always so delighted by her solutions, even when they’re obvious, but somehow the tail-wagging hits different than his normal bouncy enthuthiasm. She idly wonders how far she can take this as she stands to examine their toiletries.

There’s not much left in his shampoo bottle, so Gwen grabs her body wash as well — it’s cheap and she has tons of it, so it’ll have to do. She kneels back down and softens her voice a little more, like she’s talking to a toddler or something, as she squeezes some shampoo into her palm. “You wanna get clean, David? Huh? Get all this crap off of you?”

He gives her a happy whine that is so very David, despite the species, that she can’t help the giggle that escapes her.

His tail stills for a moment and he stares at her, ears pricked high, the expression on his muzzle so close to human surprise that she starts to feel self conscious. Then he starts wagging his tail so furiously that Gwen has to quickly splat her shampooed hand on his head. “Shut up,” she tells him, and starts to rub it into a lather.

Gwen doesn’t really touch people. Growing up she’d been used to living in cramped spaces — Dad’s tour bus chief among them — which meant that being able to spread out was always such a luxury. She quit touring once she hit high school, but by that time the damage had already been done: after so many years of enforced closeness, Gwen never really figured out how to initiate physical contact when she wanted it, without a lack of room causing the press of bodies on all sides.

So she’s not good at touching people. David, on the other hand, is bad at not touching people. When Gwen awkwardly offered her hand to him during their first meeting, David went right in for an extended hug. He hasn’t gotten much better since; it’s taken years for her to train him to let go of her, dammit, and she’s given up on ever getting through a day without his hands fluttering around her shoulders, arms, back, casually and constantly touching her.

And though Gwen pretends not to notice or care, on the relatively rare occasions that she initiates contact, David always, always relaxes into her touch. It makes her feel… well, stupid, yes, but also warm and — damn him — kind of fond. Right now, it’s somehow even easier to slip into that feeling: he leans obviously into her hands as she works the shampoo and then body wash through his thick fur, the mud coming away under her fingers and slowly revealing more and more red fur.

It should be stranger, not least because he’s currently in the form of a predator that has terrified man for years. But Gwen keeps at it, soaping and scrubbing and rinsing, til her friend stands there on four paws, clean as can be.

...and, once she takes a step back to get a good view of him, looking a bit like an enormous drowned rat.

“Holy shit, you’re so skinny,” Gwen exclaims, leaning against the sink. She crosses her arms as she gets a good look at the wolf doing his best to pout in their tub. “All that fur almost made you look intimidating, but you’re all elbows, huh?”

David’s furry brow creases. He seems to think hard for a moment; feeling generous, Gwen waits him out. Finally, he sticks the very tip of his tongue out in an impressively snooty blep.

She snorts, snagging some ratty old towels, and drops back into the voice she uses for dogs and babies. “Well, does David wanna get dry now? Huh? Does Davey wanna let Gwen towel him off so he can be a big, scary fluffball again?”

When she turns back, his muzzle has contorted into one of offended realization. She can hear his voice so clearly in his scandalized expression: Wait, have you been making fun of me? That, plus the fact that his tongue is still out in a petite blep, has her pressing the towels to her face to muffle a laugh.

“David,” she starts, once she feels capable of facing him without making a fool of herself -- and then she startles at the spray of cool water against her skin, soaking into her pajamas, and the pafwappafwappafwap sound of a dog shaking itself dry. “David!” she snaps, horrified, and backs away, but the bathroom door is closed — she’s stuck — she holds up the towels, as if that will protect her. She’s going to kill him.

He woofs, sounding terribly pleased with himself, and Gwen blindly chucks the towels at him. By her ear, they splat against the tub -- she wipes at the water in her eyes, cursing. “I’m going to kill you,” she announces to the bathroom, fuming, and feels the rasp of something warm and wet on her free hand. She jerks away, blinking rapidly to clear her vision.

David stands beside her, fluffy and damp and way too smug, his green eyes sparkling in amusement. He’s big enough that his head hits her waist; if he stood on his back feet, he’d be tall enough to crowd her in, look down on her. As it is, he looks up at her, a distinctly… David look of affection on his face.

Gwen’s stomach swoops, but just a little, and that’s kind of embarrassing so she glowers at him. “Dick,” she mutters, yanking open the bathroom door and storming half-heartedly to her “dresser” (a shitty filing cabinet, because Campbell’s too cheap for real furniture). She can hear the click of his nails on the hardwood as she pulls out a camp shirt and a relatively clean sports bra. Her pajama shirt is soaked thanks to David’s sense of humor so she tugs it off and flings it into her laundry basket. “Shouldn’t you have changed back by now anyway?” she asks him. “It’s way past sun-up.”

She just buys whatever fits from the sales rack, so her sports bras are always wacky colors; this one is fuschia with vivid teal piping. She yanks it on over her head and makes sure her tits are facing the right way before realizing that David has gone totally silent.

She glances over her shoulder to find him staring at her with wide eyes, his tail frozen straight out in shock. When they make eye contact, his ears flatten against his skull and he seems at such a panicky loss for what to do that he actually yelps, which startles them both so much that they spend another precious second staring at each other in mutual what-the-fuck-do-we-do-ness before Gwem gets her shit together and throws her camp shirt at his face.

“I —! You were a dog! I forgot!” she snaps, face burning. Stupid. “Stay there!”

It takes Gwen seconds to get another shirt on, but her inner voice is shouting rapidly the whole time. He’s a wolf but he’s a werewolf so he’s a person so you can’t change in front of him dumbass! Unless you’re trying to get it on in which case why would you think unsexily shoving your boobs into a sports bra would be the way to do it?! Plus even if he is a werewolf he’s still David who isn’t supposed to be hot! ...But maybe he is now?? Even if that is the case you know you can’t handle a fling with a coworker so quit thinking about it, especially cuz right now he’s still in the form of a dog!!

In her mind, Gwen shouts inarticulately back at the voices and smashes their heads in with David’s guitar. In real life, she zips up her shorts and hesitantly lifts the spare shirt off David’s face. He keeps his eyes screwed shut, his ears back and head down, everything about his posture saying I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.

Gwen huffs out a breath — he gets so apologetic for the stupidest shit — and taps his forehead to get his attention. “David, it’s fine, it was my fault anyway. You can open your eyes.”

A fine tremble goes through him, but he peeks one eye open and, seeing that she’s telling the truth, opens both eyes to focus entirely on her. Gwen feels like squirming — even in this form, his focus makes her a little nervous. “Well?” she blurts out. “Why aren’t you human again?”

He flicks an ear in mild irritation (is he conscious of that, she wonders) and pads over to the cabin door, pointing his muzzle towards the outside. Gwen follows, looking out: the camp is muddy and full of puddles, rain drizzling down from pale grey clouds that take up the whole sky. Her stomach sinks.

“You need sunlight to change back?” she asks; he confirms with a prim little nod. Gwen tugs her phone over by its cord (it’ll probably break at some point, but what the fuck ever) and checks the weather app for the hourly forecast in Sleepy Peak. She can’t help hissing at what she sees.

“It’s supposed to be cloudy for the next twenty-four hours,” she says, feeling a little numb. David’s ears sink in clear dismay that matches her own. “What the fuck are we going to do?”

***

It turns out David doesn’t even need to speak for them to reach a decision.

He suggests (through a series of wolf-sounds and some poor pantomime) that he stay inside all day, but Gwen knows that he couldn’t even make it an hour being cooped up inside with no camp activities to run. So as long as he can avoid the mud, she’s sentencing him to spend the rest of the day outdoors on the off-chance that any sunlight makes it through the thick cloud cover.

Which means that she’s basically going to be running the camp alone today. Great.

Gwen rolls up a pair of his shorts and pins them onto a long-sleeve camp shirt so at least he’ll have clothing if he happens to change back. Obedient, David sits very still as she ties the bundle around his neck like a bandana. He looks up at her attentively when she smooths down the tree insignia so it lays flat against his red fur.

Despite the fact that he’s an enormous wolf, and despite the fact that he’s David, her brain says dog! and she has to resist the urge to pat his head. He almost looks cute.

“Okay,” she says, shrugging on her raincoat and opening the front door. “Quartermaster needs to get into storage to get you a new bed anyway, so I’ll do blanket forts for a bit and see how it goes. You — don’t get seen, don’t get too muddy, and come back as soon as you’re human again. Got it?”

David’s eyes turn determined. He lifts a paw to his nose in what Gwen assumes is his best “campe diem!!” and this time she really can’t help it — before she can stop herself, she’s running a hand down his fluffy head and scratching behind his ears. David leans into it, tail wagging, and by the time Gwen realizes what she’s done he’s already hopped out the door and trotted off into the woods.

Gwen is too awkward, too nervous, too weird — even after years of patching him up, she hardly ever touches David on purpose, but… that had been easy. His fur had been warm, his green eyes bright.

She stands there for a minute, blinking at her own hand, imagining she can still feel fur, dense and fine against her fingers. Then she shakes her head and gets going.

#camp camp #campcamp #writing this in 2020 was a weird period for me... but also like. aren't they all #what can i say. in times of trouble what i want most is to write about my favorite characters dealing w werewolf shenanigans >:3 #saint writes #just checked and my unpublished hlvrai werewolf fic is almost exactly as long as these drafts :o that one's more than halfway done tho #so hopefully i'll get to finish it and actually post it eventually #werewolves #oh we didn't even actually GET to the bed-sharing bit in this yet did we. lmao #cc

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