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multifandom-but · 2 years

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Who is likely to take Hunter in + How is drives the story:

Chances are I’m going to edit this post along the way but these are my thought so far just after 2x17 events.

Starting with The Owl House:

Considering we already have 2x17, they seem less likely as of now. I would’ve assumed they chased Hunter down but with all of them wanted and so close to being arrested, it’s probably not the safest for Hunter to be there. But what about after the events of the story?

After, it definitely seems possible. They’re clearly making a sibling dynamic between Luz and Hunter (as if they don’t have that already). And it would be good for him to branch out and learn the ways of wild magic, especially away from Belos. This family, especially Luz, are so good at making others see another point of view and keeping an open mind. It would be nice to see them try to help Hunter and make him feel comfortable. Showing that just because he wasn’t born like other witches or even humans, he still gets to be his own person. And we all know Eda loves adding more people to the family. But at the same time, Hunter and Eda need time to build a connection. At the moment, it seems more like a “I’ll take him on weekends and holidays” kind of deal rather than a permanent situation but I definitely see them becoming family whether they live together or not.

In terms of where we are this the story right now, it would be a lot to focus on. With Luz going back home, King’s new identity, and everyone clearly keeping it hidden that they’re upset Luz will head home soon, the story would be pretty thick if Hunter were added on though I wouldn’t mind much. That being said, I’m sure they’ll meet again either planning a rebellion or somewhere within the rebellion.

Willow:

Chances are Hunter is in a group chat with the Emerald Entrails after the events of 2x13 ASIAS. Out of everyone on the team, Hunter would most likely ask for Willow’s help as he clearly respects her as captain. It would be a nice place for him to stay away from Castle grounds and have somewhere cozy. Plus Willow seems to have no ill will towards Hunter as she’s awaiting “Caleb’s next day off.”

These two are clearly made to be parallels of each other via being “half witches.” I’d even make the argument that they’re foils of one another.

When we first meet Willow in S1, she’s bullied, has one friend, and is lacking self-confidence. It isn’t until she’s thrown into the plant track where we see her blossoming (hehe). With Hunter, we saw him at the top of his game as the Golden Guard and Emperor’s right hand man. Now he’s lost all of that and is disgusted at the thought of being the G.G successor. If Hunter is with Willow, we would get more Willow and Gus (I’m assuming) content. Willow would help Hunter the same way Luz and Gus helped her. She would help him find his confidence and sense of meaning in this world.

Now the problems: 1. Did Hunter have his scroll with him when he chased down Team RED (Raine, Eber, Darius) into the Night Market or did he leave it at the castle? I guess Flapjack (DAMN YOU PANCAKES) would be able to get it by flying up to his window but something tells me he wouldn’t leave Hunter alone like that even for a couple minutes in case something happens.

2. How would Willow’s dads react to having a 16 year old boy who’s literally the G.G and on the run in their house? But that could be easily fixed by having them be chill with it or making up a cover story and lying to them. Which would lead to conflict later but oh well chaotic route for the win.

Even if Hunter isn’t with Willow, I definitely think they’ll have room to grow together in the future and I’m excited to see how that happens.

Darius (Raine and Eber?):

I shall admit my bias here. I want Darius to take Hunter in. But I also think that’s the route we’re heading towards and he’s the most plausible guardian for Hunter.

Let’s start by saying Darius isn’t the kindest. He’s definitely not perfect taking into consideration “you don’t deserve to wear that patch,” and “Darius ignored me as per usual” in Hunter’s palisman observations (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, it’s on YouTube. Dana did a stream).

That being said, it’s clearly depicted that Darius is not what he seems. He’s actively rebelling against Belos and was kind enough to give Hunter a scroll to contact his friends outside of the castle and pat him on the head. Bare minimum, I know, but that kindness has been foreign to Hunter for the past 16 years. Not only that but he shows genuine concern and panic over Hunter being trapped in Belos’ mind. I like the idea that they can make and grow their own family together. It would be nice to see them mourn and heal together.

It seems set up perfectly anyways. The fact that Hunter starts acting on his own accord the same time we find out that Darius was the previous G.G’s protege? Darius didn’t like that Hunter was Belos’ little lap dog. And that we know all of the previous G.G’s rebelled against Belos at some point and now Darius is as well and Hunter is on his way to doing so? He could help Hunter stand his ground. They could learn about Grimwalkers together as Darius knows Hunter’s predecessor, he knows the most about the previous G.G and he definitely knows something isn’t right over the fact that his mentor disappeared and this kid looks so similar. Darius has something to fight for with his connection to the G.G but now it has purpose and meaning cause he’s looking after Hunter.

Their stories align so perfectly.

Not only would we be able to focus on Hunter’s story cleanly about finding his own sense of dignity and self-worth, we get to see Darius humbled and step up, ready to fill in the role of a mentor and even a positive father figure in Hunter’s life. He gets to give back to his mentor by taking care of Hunter. It’s also worth noting, it would push Team RED’s objective and tie it to the main plot too. We’d get to see more of their story and how they started working together after Eda’s Requiem. It would be the smartest writing move with what we have so far.

Not to mention, chances are they found him already. You can’t tell me after such a strong reaction from Darius, plus Raine clearly wanting to help Eda get her kid (and their future stepdaughter) back, they just gave Eda the teleportation potion and dipped. I figured they would’ve stayed hidden to ensure Luz and Hunter made it out safely which means they could’ve seen the direction Hunter ran and followed him.

Only problem is: Would Hunter trust the three coven heads? After everything he went through, it would most likely take him a while to trust an adult in power, especially ones so close to Belos. And I feel like the only safe place they would hide him in where he can have access to basic needs are either if they have their own individual homes away from the castle, or maybe the BATS hideout that we saw in Eda’s Requiem.

Honestly, knowing this show and it’s creator, I wouldn’t be surprised if they went with none of those and surprise us somehow.

Regardless, I feel like all three of these are good choices and it’s nice to realize how many people care for Hunter and at the end of this hopefully he’ll have the biggest found family that ever found familied. Fingers crossed he isn’t just camping in the woods alone and cold.

#the owl house #the owl house spoilers #the owl house theory #toh season 2 #toh hunter #hunter the golden guard #toh luz #toh eda #toh willow #toh raine #dadrius #hoping to see this boy safe soon #my fingers are crossed for dadrius #I know flapjack is taking such good care of him right now #if no one takes him I will

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laf-outloud · 10 months

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I think when it comes to the recent FBBC post from Jensen, there's a couple things at play. It's possible that Tarvour was adding them in the same day, making it possible for people to order and FBBC/Jensen wanted to get ahead of it. Also it makes sense for him to post because of the previous post he made about the law preventing direct shipping, people always ask him at cons about getting their beers out of state, and now that Nate is gone, they need every cent they can get. I agree, it's not a good look, but I think even if the strike hadn't happened, he would've posted that regardless. Just wanted to put that out there.

As @laf-outloud pointed out, the deal wasn't going into effect until the next day so he could have waited to post until today. Plus, FBBC themselves posted the day before Jensen posted. So they all knew it was coming up and Jensen could have posted the same day as FBBC (the day before the strike, because he KNEW the strike was coming that day). Or he could have waited a few days. I doubt a day or two without him posting would impact sales that much, especially if this is an ongoing deal (as opposed to something that was like "this week only!"). Especially because the fans who are obsessive enough to pay to have FBBC shipped to them out of state probably already follow the FBBC account and would have already seen it. Does Jensen's post get more eyeballs on it? Absolutely. But it still was not necessary, and in very poor taste, to post right after the strike announcement.

There are so many factors and while it's certainly not the worst thing (it is just an IG post), it was very tone-deaf and ill-timed which demonstrates a lack of care for a historic event within his chosen profession.

#ask box #anti jensen

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maaaxx · 11 months

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11 & 19 for the ask game ❤

ask game :)

11 has already been answered here

19. "Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?":

Short answer:

From the time I could vaguely write I was writing "books" (or as much of a book a child that young can make)

I entered my first writing contest when I was 9 or 10 and I got 5th place in my school

A year later I started my first major wip that got me invested into writing as a hobby

A year after that I started another wip that most of my current wips are branches off of and also started posting bits and pieces on wattpad

When I was 14 I had my writing skills tested for early college admission and scored in the top 5 percent in my state (still very proud of this)

Entered and won a couple writing competitions besides that stopped writnig

Then a couple years later I started writing fanfiction

Currently pondering working towards actually publishing some books one day.

Long answer under the cut :)

I remember making "books" since I could write. Like I would staple paper together and I remember one specifically that had something to do with sea horses but i dont remember the plot.

My mom has boxes filled of these "books" with all of the words and even my name misspelled and poorly illustrated characters and stuff.

When I was in like 4th grade (9-10 years old) my teacher had an assignment to where we made up a story and applied whatever type of literary technique we were learning about that week to it. So like if we were learning about similes the assignment would be come up with 5 sentences that include similes that pertain to your story and include one or something like that. At the end of the year we were supposed to have 4-5 pages of this story. I think I finished with like 10-12 or something like that. She made me summarize it 💀

If I remember right I think that my story was about this set of twins where one was born with some type of super power that only the other twin knew about and the superpowered twin got kidnapped by some scientists that wanted to expirement on her and my story followed the other twin and this like 12 year old girl dedicating her teenagehood to finding the lost twin. I think I made it so the dad actually ended up hiring the kidnapper and the dad and kidnapper both got arrested. I want to find this again because I dont remember a lot about it.

That same year my teacher ended up having me enter a poetry contest and I think it was a tri-county thing. I didn;t like poetry (I still hate writing it, love reading it though) so I half assed it and I think I got within the top 5 (??) of my school. (just elementary school) so that was neat.

(This specific teacher was one of those really strict teachers that no one else liked but my little undiagnosed autistic self LOVED her because i always knew what to expect yk?? but is also the one who really got me into reading and writing and stuff and I dont think I'll ever not me extremely grateful for her)

The next year I started forming this one wip. Its definetly my longest and most elaborate and sentimental one because it opened so many different doors for me.

There was no plot but it pretty much followed this group of like 20 teenagers that had very different lives and were all really traumatized and during the "story" they're all like 15-18 trying to figure out how to move on from their childhoods and maintain healthy relationships with eachother and their individual support systems.

Some of them are neurodivergent and some of their stories are centered around that.

One of the characters name is Jack. Jack is bipolar and so is his mom and so because of his moms mental illnesses and stuff he was in and out of fostercare from like 5-13. Hes probably the 'main' character in this.

Hes also went deaf from a tmi from when he was like 9.

Then theres Allison who is autistic and she is your stereotypical 'gifted kid burnout' 'graduated at like 15' type of autistic. but this leads to a lot of issues with her and her main thing is kind of working through that.

Travis comes from a VERY religious (almost cultish) family and is develops schizophrenia at like 16 I think and he's also pansexual and his parents go through his phone and find some texts from his partner and kick him out so hes homeless and has to deal with that.

But like I said theres like 17 more of these characters and its very elaborate. It goes into the parents childhoods and deals with generational trauma and how mental illness can affect parenting.

The 'story' mostly follows Jack and Allison (theyre love interests) and everything is kind of through their pov and their relationships with the other characters and stuff.

But like 11 year old me started writing this out in composition books and between then and when I turned 15 ish and got a computer, I filled I think close to 30 composition books with this story.

But I started researching mental disorders and stuff for this story so I could make their stuff as realistic as possible and that kickstarted my spin on psychology, which led to me wanting to be a social worker which is my major. It also meant that I was really ahead in also my psyche classes. Im *technically* going into my 5th year of college and I started taking psyche classes my second year and I didnt start getting into stuff that I didn't know until the year that just ended so 11 year old me really knew what she was doing.

I remember making my mom buy me textbooks and those articles that are behind a paywall for birthdays and Christmas's

I'm getting off track

A year or two after that I started developing this other wip with kids with superpowers and there was a whole lot of worldbuilding and stuff to this one and its what got me into fantasy which is the main genre I write outside of fanfic. (my hecles wip is loosely based on this one)

(part of this one is on wattpad somewhere)

When I was 14 I took a test that determined whether or not I would be able to start college early and part of this test was writing skills. There was a fiction and a nonfiction portion and then they combined those two scores and averaged them out and my score was in the 95th percentile (top 5 percent) of everyone who takes the test (so on average like 17-19 year olds usually and then some outliers) so I see that as one of my biggest writing achievments.

(i scored shit on the math and reading comprehension portions though)

I stopped writing and stuff for like two years besides entering writing contests.

I've entered like 5 and won 2. One was tri-county and I got first place and the other one was a little bigger but it wasnt a state contest, I think it might have been regional but I got third place. I consider those both big accomplishments too.

And then when I was 17 I started writing fanfiction.

I think fanfiction is what actually got it in my head that maybe I could write an actual book one day. Like before I just saw it as like a hobby because I was scared of the commitment of writing a whole book but ive written almost 200,000 words of one of my fanfics and it wasn't that overwhelming and I think that usually a decent sized novel so why not give it a try?

Idk if that answered the question or if I got TOO off track but oh well :)

#you can tell when i start mildly bragging #im sorry im just proud of myself💀#I think I mentioned before that everytime I get really into writing its to cope with something.#so that like 11-15 era and then when I was 17 I had a lot going on and thats always when i started really getting back into it #i also consider getting involved in fandom (aside from just writing) something like a milestone to my writing timeline thing #because its the first time I had a community around it #and that I can talk to other people who are passionate about their wips and works and whatnot #and compare writing styles and stuff #i also really enjoy getting immediate feedback #also being able to read stuff by people who dont get paid for it and who dont have to worry about writing trends and stuff is really nice #i think its really neat how much of my life stems from writing #like idk how to explain how different my life would be if this wasnt my primary hobby.#me choosing my career directly stems from a story i made when i was 11 #writing is also how i taught myself empathy #because i mention a lot that im a really low empathy autistic #and id always have trouble not being cold with people because i cant force myself to feel bad for them #so id make like side stories of my characters going through things people in my life went through #and if base what i say and do for them on what would help my chatacter #which i based on reading psyche textbooks #that sounds really weird now that im typing it out but oh well #im not saying im good at relationships but id be a lot worse at them if i didnt start writing #i liked this ask thank you anon <3 #idk if i actually answered it though 💀#max thinks shes relevant #asks

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jamesheartupdates · 2 months

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6 months and many breakdowns later... surgery is rescheduled

TL;DR: Surgery is now scheduled for Wednesday, February 21, 2024. James will have pre-op the day before. We'll keep updating here as we can!

The longer version...

Almost everything from the last post in August is still valid. It's still the third and final surgery for his "full repair" (called the "Fontan"). It's still not an "emergency" (although it does need to happen). And it's still happening at UVA hospital in Charlottesville (and we still live in Richmond, an hour away).

The biggest change is that James turned 4 in October! Also after having conversations with his cardiologist, the initial 2-4 week hospital recovery we were told to anticipate may be a little inflated. James is an all-star little patient and has recovered more quickly than average during his past two surgeries, so we're anticipating hospital recovery to be more around a week (or two, but you can never really know these things).

For a little background over the past several months, there have been many twists and turns since August. The August date was canceled due to low ICU staffing at the hospital. We planned again for October. We kept the boys out of daycare to prevent us from getting sick. We all got sick. We delayed surgery week by week as we continued to be sick. Then we decided to take a break from the madness as we entered into cold and flu season, and we would wait and try again in the spring.

It's not quite spring, but we're back at it again. We're anxious to have this surgery behind us, and we're hopeful James will feel relief for ailments he doesn't even realize he has (his oxygen saturation levels are in the low 80s currently, after surgery they'll be in the high 90s).

We took the boys out of daycare again and have been quarantining as much as possible in preparation for the surgery. It's important for James to not have an upper respiratory illness for the surgery and immediate recovery because his lungs need to be in tip top shape (something we didn't *fully* realize until our second attempt at the surgery in the fall).

The logistics, the considerations, the emotions, the stress — it's all a lot. We just keep telling ourselves and each other we're doing the best we can.

Here's what the next few days will look like:

We plan to tell James about the surgery today or tomorrow (the fun news is we also get to tell James he was accepted for Make A Wish, so he can choose something to look forward to after the surgery!).

Tuesday 2/20 we go to UVA for pre-op mid-morning to mid-afternoon (vitals, echo, blood draw, ultrasound, etc.), then we come home.

Wednesday 2/21 is surgery day, so Michael and I will take James SUPER EARLY to UVA. Surgery will be 6-8 hours (for those who this means anything to, it's a "beating heart" operation and he'll be on the pump for ~1-1.5 hrs). Michael and I have been in touch with the hospital about getting a room at the Ronald McDonald house — chances are it's full, and if it is, the hospital will provide a room at a hotel for us for 3 nights. Michael and I will be taking turns staying overnight with James at the hospital (they only let 1 adult overnight).

In the days that follow, someone will be with him around the clock (it's different having a newborn or 5 month old compared to a 4 year old!). He'll probably be in the ICU for a couple nights then go to the pediatric floor for the remaining days.

Another thing to note is that there are two heart transplant candidates that could move our surgery to Thursday or Friday, but the odds are still good that James's surgery will happen within the week. As long as we get through pre-op, surgery will definitely be within the week.

People have been asking how to support us, and most simply you can cheer us on however you prefer — thoughts, prayers, letters, song, dance, poem, etc. Some people have asked about meals, and we don’t have a meal train currently, but if you’d like to send an Uber Eats or Door Dash gift card or Venmo us (@ninarogers or @mikerogue) for a coffee, a meal or to just help with the extra costs that can come with traveling to and from the hospital and being out of our normal routine — that would be appreciated. Hopefully this will just be a short stint and not too disruptive for too long.

Last but not least, here are some cute pictures from the past few months 🥰 James is still our sweet, funny, sassy, spirited and curious little red head, and we love him so!

That's all for now! We'll post more (shorter) posts as we go. You can come here to stay updated!

Love, Nina (+ Michael, James & Gabe)

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absolutebl · 3 years

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This Week in BL

March 2021 Part 4

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs.

This is a LONG ONE, it’s been A WEEK everyone.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Lovely Writer Ep 5 - a little slow this week, but at least Gene finally flirted back, and very cute flirting it was, too. Also we got Aey’s motivation, background, and love interest. Thank goodness for that.

Brothers Ep 8 - still pants, what can I say? Clearly I am a BL masochist. Very embarrassing for everyone concerned.

1000 Stars Ep 9 - the conflict over Tian’s father was REALLY well done. The plot of this drama is excellent, the leads are great together, and yes I totally cried. What, you didn’t?

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Word of Honor (China) Ep 16-18 - big battle fighty fighty stabby stabby. Ep 17 switches to “this drama isn’t big enough for two chaotic-neutral godlings!” So what do they do? Drink together and bicker... A LOT. Then in Ep 18 we all get the dubious joy of really freaky puppets. (I HATE puppets.) Also how is China letting this be so SO VERY VERY GAY? Also, I wanna walk through the forest wearing a smanshy purple robe and waving a big fuck-off white fan around simply because I’m a pretentious fuss monger. And frankly, I feel like this is an achievable life goal for me.

We Best Love 2 (Taiwan) Ep 4 - not gonna lie, this is looking to be one of my top 3 BLs of 2021. It’s SO GOOD. Big bonus to this ep for treating stalker behavior like the mental illness it is and not as some dumb representation of enduring love.

The Most Peaceful Place is My Place (Vietnam) Ep 1 - finally dropped (find it under NƠI BÌNH YÊN NHẤT LÀ VỀ BÊN EM on O2′s channel). It’s got actors already comfortable with BL and looks pretty good so far. An angry tsundere uke reunited with his ex, a stoic chef, giving us lots of snap, crackle, and pop out the gate.

Dear Uranus (Taiwan GL) Ep 2 - I want to love it, but it is just moving too fast. There’s not enough character dev and then they’re throwing flashbacks in? It feels like a treatment rather than a show, and a rushed treatment at that. Bummer.

HIStory 4: Close To You (Taiwan) Ep 2 (AKA Ep 3-4) - let the cheesy popcorn continue! Idiot remains an idiot; ingenue remains an ice queen; nice gay guy remains nice and gay; obsessive stalker brother is getting ever more whackadoddle. Of course these last two have the best chemistry. (It’s caregiver codependency and the salvation trope. We got us a Leo/Fiat situation going on.) Plus lots of classic BL tropes because OF COURSE there are lots of tropes.

Occasionally, I am tempted to argue that shows like H4 or Cherry Magic or Ossan’s Love aren’t technically BL because of the office setting and age of the protags - but then they all behave like high school students anyway, so *shrug*

Stand Alones

Cute little Taiwanese micro BL Friend or Lover dropped, about bisexual realization within a friendship group. Normally these are too short for me, but this one did pretty good with its 15 minutes of charm, plus it’s abad boy + shy softy pairing.

Breaking News - Thai BL

Fish Upon the Sky released its actual trailer. The upside-down kiss is gone, which makes everyone sad, and it seems far less rivals to lovers than the first iteration, which makes ME sad. But it still looks good and a more classic BL than GMMTV has given us in a while. New trailer focused more on the makeover trope and they’ve upped Mix’s role (the object of everyone’s affection) now that he’s proved himself. (Or they are using him more to carry the trailer since he has a fan base form 1k*). Starts April 9 on GMMTV in 1K*’s time slot, probably with a 10 ep run.

2gether the movie is apparently coming April 22 to Thai theaters. F4 Thailand must be having issues or GMMTV just wants to milk the BrightWin cash cow. It’s rumored to be a combination of 2gehter + Still 2gether with some extra scenes and ending. Also, one assumes a lot will be cut out, if it’s movie length.

Call It What You Want released its updated trailer. If anything, it looks more scary than before. What are we in for? April 9th.

Nitiman got a release date, May 7 on One31.

I Told Sunset About You 2 got an updated release date of May 27 on LineTV.

Second Chance the series is coming to LineTV on March 29. I don’t know much about this one. Tons of familiar faces (mostly TharnType side dishes) and some nice looking new talent but a dearth of eng subs. I think it may take on Brothers’ time slot. Line did eng subs for Brothers so maybe they will do 2nd Chance too?

Close Friend the series is coming April 22. This is a combination of 6 couples with 6 story arcs as music videos (maybe)? It’s an epic fan service with familiar faces like OhmFluke (UWMA), MaxNat (LBC also in Y-Destiny), YoonLay (YYY also in Y-Destiny), KimCop (GenY), and JaFirst (TT2).

Y-Destiny starts March 30, and has starting dropping couple’s trailers. I’m still suspicious given the director but it seems like there is plot (or plots) and a theme. Looks to be a series of 7 single ep vignettes (amended, see comments, might be 2 eps each for 14 eps total), different couple each time, some with supernatural elements, all with decent chemistry and acting chops.

Sun MaxNat’s tutor/student arc

Mon jaded rich kid meets poor innocent

Tues sports romance enemies to lovers

Weds the messy realistic actual dating one

Thurs hot ghost boyfriend (sad)

Fri YoonLayPerth coping with loss and finding new love (sad). This one will all rest on Lay's acting so we know it’s in safe hands. Our boy is going to KILL it.

Sat time-slip memory loss reunion romance

I’m thinking we can’t expect any of these to end happy or be classic BL. They’re gonna be more slice of life-ish.

Gossip - BL Outside of Thailand

Scholar Ryu’s Wedding Ceremony AKA Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding (Korean historical BL) got a legit teaser (eng sub here). @curriculumvtae reports that it’s releasing April 15th on WeTV (Philippines & Thailand) and Idol Romance (South Korea), while Will of Thai Bl says it’ll be on Viki too. It’s a short run of 8 ep built on a fake relationship trope (arranged marriage variant):

Ryu Ho Seon’s (Kang In Soo from You Wish) arranged marriage turns out to be with his expected bride’s brother, Choi Ki Wan (Lee Se Jin from Mr Heart). Ryu tries to undo the marriage, but his ill mother opposes this saying the scandal would be too much. Meanwhile, Kim Tae Hyeong (Jang Eui Soo from Where Your Eyes Linger), a senior at Ryu’s school, comes to congratulate him and falls in love with Choi. Then one day, the original bride disappears.

Okay it seems a bit twisty turny for ONLY 8 EPS, but oh my goodness how excited are we? Our first intentional historical BL out of Korea!

We already knew Hong Kong was doing a remake of Japan’s Ossan’s Love under the same name (not my favorite Japanese BL but so very popular) but it’s now reported to be coming to Viu in June. Who knows how the CFA will take it. Depends on whether Hong Kong bows before the NO GAY KISSES regs or if they are going to use this as a political nose thumb... things could get cray with this puppy (the original has several kisses and s shower scene). Are we back in Addicted territory only with added comedy and civil unrest?

Speaking of Japan, Absolute BL (AKA Zettai BL ni Naru Sekai vs Zettai BL ni Naritakunai Otoko) dropped sooner than anyone thought, March 27. But being Japanese who knows how/when/if we get subs. Protag finds himself trapped in a world of BL, but being straight he fights against any hot guy that draws near, but the whole world (literally) is conspiring against him. It’s a parody adapted from a yoai.

What with Absolute BL from Japan plus Lovely Writer and Call it What You Want from Thailand, is 2021 the year of BL being ultra self referential? Sure feels like it.

In Case You Missed It

Faded a gay micro film from Taiwan from 2017 deals with parental acceptance and serves up a ton of BL tropes (piggyback, forehead kiss, etc). I’m pretty sure this was a propaganda piece for legalization of gay marriage, and it’s an interesting nugget of BL history as a result. Yes, it ends happy. It’s cute.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Some shows may be listed a day later than actual air date for accessibility reasons.

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something.

Man there’s a lot going on right now! Spring has sprung... I suppose.

P.S. I cannot believe I missed Absolute BL as a blog name. Numbnuts = me.

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dankmyfarrik · 2 years

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Our Angel | Chapter 4: Sell Your Soul

Masterlist, Previous Chapter

Summary: You are hired to pleasure a lonely Mandalorian. It’s just a paycheck. |Post Season Two

Read it here:

(Personal preference)

Wattpad

Archive Of Our Own

Individual Chapter Warnings: Grumpy!Din, P in V (rougher than the usual), unlabeled illnesses, anxiety, etc.

Authors Notes: Kinda scared with the whole tumblr tags thing… we shall see!

Word Count: 5.9K ish

"Whoa!-h" Your breath is sharply cut. "M-Mando! You see the ship!"

You couldn't quell your childish enthusiasm even if you were about to topple over the edge of bliss. You had never seen a ship flying through space before, despite being in one.

He only grunts in response, hands anchored to your hips—probably not even looking out the window of the cockpit but watching as he repeatedly disappears inside of you.

"Is that," you squeak for a moment when you're incapable of producing a different sound, "a X-s'wing?"

He groans again, hand returning to the back of your neck so he can lean forward and see what you were referring to out the window. The change of angle with the way you were now pressed deeper into the cockpit controls made you choke off a sob. After Hoth, he has had you in the cockpit a couple of times. None of them while you were in hyperspace, thankfully, but it is probably his favorite spot. You make a mental note and sacrifice that fact that after each time, your breasts are dented with the outlines of levers and buttons.

"Transport ship," he bites out, harsh, unimpressed.

Stupid girl, you could all but hear him say, everyone knows that. But you fall over the edge before you can give it another thought.

—-

"The soup is on the stove," you hum, looking up from your latest drawing, "we gotta eat the last of the fresh stuff before it goes bad."

He doesn't respond; he just opens the lid and looks down at the pot. Examining the contents with tense shoulders.

"I uh." He grabs a bowl from the cabinet - still not speaking. "I will get more the next time we are in civilization."

He fills the bowl with the steaming broth and heads back up the ladder, not saying a word.

Okay… that was weird.

It's not that you required a thank you, in fact, you didn't care. But that was completely like night and day to how he usually is. Did you say something? The ship is so big and empty, your paths hardly cross. You normally only see him when he seeks you out for sex, and even then, you don't say much. You always try to be friendly regardless—had to be for any customer service job—and he still was tipping you fine.

You scold yourself for overanalyzing every detail. He's covered in armor; how could you know if his shoulders were tense. He hardly says anything anyways. Maybe he is dealing with a slippery bounty and was deep in thought. You were probably just being annoying by talking.

—-

"I got a perfect score on my Midi-chlorian paper! Mr. Aphra says I should enter it in the Athleticon for a scholarship. He says I actually have a good chance!"

Mazey's blue hologram beams from ear to ear. You haven't seen her this happy in months. Mando has been out for a few hours now, and you were watching the triplet sunrise out the cockpit window when she called.

"Wait, Mr. Aphra? I thought you hated him?"

"I do!" She giggles, "But he rarely gives compliments. That's why I'm so excited about it."

Her hologram flickers.

Mazey begins a heated (and somewhat angry?) rant about Midi-chlorians. She made a passionate argument supported with statistics, lab reports, and eye-witnesses… You zoned out within the first few minutes, math was never your strong suit, but you didn't stop her. You missed her inflections, the way her brows furrowed when she had an idea, or how her bottom lip caught behind her teeth. Most of all, you missed her voice. Your apartment was small for the four of you, so there was always something loud bouncing off the walls, whether it was the newest holo, Tim, or Mazey complaining about her midterms.

Mando was not much of a conversationalist. And the issue with being in space was: it's a vacuum. The sounds stopped at the occasional beeping and the steady hum of the engine.

So you enjoyed every minute here with Mazey.

"So, how much is the scholarship?"

The oranges in the sunrise slowly fade into soft pinks.

She swallowed, "Four years tuition, housing, and transport fees for the whole family."

Holy bantha dung.

It's a way out.

"Mazey," you murmur, "It's okay if you don't get it. We will make do either way."

"Let me hope," she whispers. You both know throwing everything away on a whim is dangerous—plenty of people in Canto Bight can tell you that—but hope is what keeps you fighting another day. What gets you out of bed every morning.

It is even more dangerous— and crushing.

"We will make do either way," you repeat, but the faraway look in her eyes tells you she didn't really hear.

"How is your," she pauses, "mechanic job?"

Mazey is too smart to be stuck on Cantonica.

"Good!" you choke on your spit, "lots of stuff to do!"

"Hmm," her eyes narrow, "the credits roll in at odd hours of the day. And in seemingly random intervals."

She knows. And you know she knows you know. Whatever that means.

You gather your completion, "That must be a holo glitch of some sort. I will see what I can do. But besides that, you guys are getting the credits, okay?"

The warmth in her face and the sparkle in her eye returns, "Yes. Mom got through another round of medicine without any checks bouncing. Oh and Ti—"

"HI, SIS!" You see Tim's nose flashes across the holo.

"Hey, bud!" You laugh, "What's new with you?"

"Look," he squeals, a noise you didn't realize you missed, "I got a toy from the cereal!"

"Yes," Mazey explains, "we splurged and got Tim the cereal with the mystery…"

She trails off, suddenly looking sad, regretful.

Her eyes darted up quickly to meet yours, "I'm sorry, is that—"

"No," you interrupt without thinking twice, "buy him the cereal he likes."

Then softer, "Please."

You both exchange a look, an acknowledgment for words you would never dare to speak. Words she eloquently avoids and makes you feel comforted all the same.

"If at any point you want to come home, you can. We will make do either way."

Mazey just paraphrased what you had told her moments before. But the thing is: there is no other way.

In Cantonica, there is only gambling.

And pleasure.

You've already sold your soul.

"But you are not going to do that, are you?"

"No. I'm not."

——

You spoke with Mazey and Tim until the Batuu sunrise lost its color and sent strips of light into the cockpit.

Now, with Mando's gruffed permission—he still seemed off— to leave and shop around at the nearby market stalls, you took a deep breath and enjoyed the clean, crisp air.

Batuu was quite simply beautiful but not in the rolling hills traditional sense. Yes, the planet had a fair share of those too, but the towering rocks gave Batuu a storied past.

You follow along a river; a group of kids swing off a rope tied to a tree into the creek. You chuckle as you pass. Finally, the marks in the path became denser indicating you were getting closer.

The marketplace here was more developed than the one in Takodana; each trading post was a stand-alone domed building surrounded by the iconic chiseled rocks.

You look up past the tops of the domes to see the trees resting at the very tops of the rock tower and above them, the swirling clouds and the soft triplet suns.

You return your gaze to the shop in front of you, there were fruits you recognized, thanks to your holo shows, from all across the galaxy. More fruits still you had never seen before.

But you feel obligated to enter when your eyes meet the shop owner, an older woman with a bird resting on her shoulder and a pink hat.

"Bright suns," you smile, the traditional Batuu greeting.

"Bright suns indeed," she echoed, encouraging you to explore further into the store.

"Do you barter instead of taking credits here?" You ask, removing your charcoals and paper from the bag you brought with you.

The woman gave you a curious look, and the bird tilts its head to the side.

"I'd like to make an offer."

——

Your journey back to the ship was strenuous because you carried so many bags.

The woman loved the drawing of the bird so much she had you meet all of her friends… who also just so happened to be shop owners… who also all loved your drawing of her bird.

You carried produce and snacks from a total of 15 different planets, outer rim, and core worlds alike. You just unlocked a world of recipes.

You are torn from your thoughts with a bang. A man stands down the trail aways down; he had sent his foot into the side of his hovercart. Well, it currently wasn't a hovercart. The vehicle was broken down and smoking.

The man, who still has not seen you yet, drops his head between his shoulders in frustration.

"I don't know what we are going to do, kid. Got any suggestions?"

You heard a defeated noise come from a small bundle of blankets sitting in the cart.

The man laughs, "I don't think kicking it again will do it any good."

You step on an unfortunately placed stick, and his head whips up over to you before relaxing.

"Bright suns," he greets, but there is still a layer of frustration behind his voice.

"Bright suns," you repeat, "in need of a mechanic?"

That's when you realize: he's attractive… and missing three fingers.

His hair sits in a dark brown mop atop his head but becomes black where the sweat has glued it around his temple. He has a sharp jaw, not as broad as Mando but probably a few inches taller (if that was even possible).

He was covered in dirt and grease, but you could tell that was the norm. His hands had noticeable nicks and cuts, and, oh, he was missing his ring, middle, and index fingers on his right hand.

"Ideally, yes," he muses before trailing off.

But he didn't need to say the rest because you already have a thousand times before: credits.

There is another sad noise from the bundle of blankets. It's a child with a mop of hair just like the man's.

The man looks down at the kid and grimaces. Your heart aches.

"Can I take a look? I've worked a few mechanic jobs in the past. We might get lucky."

"I-I don't have many credits to offer you."

"I can tell," you gesture to the dent in the side of the cart that was made by his foot.

He blushes and avoids your gaze.

It's endearing.

—-

After inspecting the damage and realizing you don't have the tools you need to fix it, you follow him back to his farm - your groceries hidden in the shade of a nearby tree.

You learn how he lost his fingers; it was relatively recently in a farm equipment accident. He said he was lucky to just get his pinky away from the blades quick enough.

It makes you laugh.

The farm had a charm to it. Fields were rested upon sloping hills and interrupted by the occasional rock tower. Droids carrying baskets of wheat hummed in the distance. There was the creek of the old wood of the farmhouse. It also had a domed roof and a cozy interior with an unexpected amount of paintings lining the walls.

"My husband was an artist," he gestures loosely across the room, keeping his head down as he pours you a glass and hands it to you, "here."

You noticed the past tense. And if the art is still on the wall…

He leaves the room for a moment, ducking under the lowered door frame with beads. The child looks at you with a lopsided smile.

You swirl the drink in your hands, the ice clinking against the side of the glass, which prompts the kid to clap his hands in amusement.

The man returns with a toolbox and some gloves; he smiles when he sees that the kid is happy.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

—-

"It will take me a couple of days, but I can do it," you shout from under the cart, "just don't be speeding in this thing."

"Wasn't planning on it," he gruffs.

You shimmy out from under the vehicle, the notorious stains along your cheek and hands. Unfortunately, the 'shimmy' disrupted the shirt you were wearing, and the extremely intentional placement of your hair—Mando's bite mark was still very obvious on your neck.

You felt the moment his eyes found the mark, as they fixed on your neck. You, rather too quickly, fling your sweaty hair to cover the spot with a snort.

You suppose it could have been worse. He could have seen the band on your arm too.

Knowing he was caught, his hazel eyes snapped back to yours, his blush returning.

Neither of you mentions it out loud. You just grab a quick drink and shimmy back under the cart.

___

You were right. It took you precisely two days to fix the cart. But eventually, with a cough and sputter, the rust bucket was able to continue its journey.

After the cart is 'fixed,' he invites you to tinker around the farm. Each day Mando is gone, you come back and fix whatever project needs it the most. It's nice; you get to be out of the ship and enjoy the clean, non-polluted or filtered, air.

You never learn the man's name, and he never asks for yours. Such information is rarely given out freely in the outer rim. Stories, however, are free game.

He learns about you and the jars you are going to bring back home.

"I know a spot!"

He brings you to a creek on the edge of his farm. The bank has mosses, flowers, critters, and rocks smoothed from years of being under the gentle current.

"It's perfect, thank you."

You work together to craft the terrarium. You place in stones and dirt to act as a filter, and then you begin on the hardscape. The kid wobbles up to you, dripping from playing in the creek, and hands you the perfect stone. You place it up right next to a mini tree you had crafted, the rock structure an excellent resemblance.

He gives you a string and tag, and you label the jar.

Batuu

You learn about him and his son. His husband passed a few years back. He keeps his art on the walls as a reminder of the man he once knew. But the art supplies stay stored away—untouched.

"Really, I can't," you gesture to the small coloring pencil set he hands you one day after lunch, "this must have meant a lot to him. I can't just take it."

"Nonsense! You think he would want it wasting away covered in dust?" He maneuvers the set in his hands, the pencils nearly falling out because of his hindered grip.

You wanted to tell him that there were plenty of other art forms that did not require a stable hand, but the look in his eyes told you he wasn't interested.

"Thank you."

With the set, you draw a portrait of the kid with the colors he chose. You made the drawing as realistic as possible, besides the fact he only let you use red, blue, and green.

He loves the offering so much he shrieks and busts out with giggles.

It makes you homesick.

You know the substitute teacher back in Canto Bight your students are left with in your absence… and he is very capable… it's just that you miss coming up with the art projects for the little ones to do and seeing what they end up with. More often than not, their little creations do not resemble the original—and that's your favorite part of the job.

——

On the 8th day, Mando has been gone, your stomach starts to get queasy.

It is a concoction of financial anxiety, fear of his safety, and the one that has your gut-churning the most painfully: homesickness.

You are walking to the farm to tinker some more, except there is nothing but the bubbling creek and distant birds chirping to slow your racing mind.

The credits are good. You tell yourself over and over. It sounded like there was extra this time around… well enough for Mazey to let Tim get the cereal with the toy.

The thought makes you smile: this is worth it. Stability and security are worth it. You just have to hold out for about five more months. The credits are good. You are doing good. Mazey will get her scholarship. It will be okay.

It will be okay. Except it wasn't. Those were the words mom told you when she got her diagnosis.

If she passes—you should be there.

Yet here you were, multiple hyperspace jumps away with a bounty hunter.

No, don't think like that. She is strong. Stronger than yourself, stronger than he ever was.

She will be on her feet soon. It will be okay. She will be another source of income, working her odd jobs, like she always used to enjoy. It will be okay.

Your homesickness fades to a warm simmer near your heart. You wonder what shows Tim is watching or if he has made any more friends at school.

You snort a laugh as you keep walking, thinking about all the boys Mazey has turned down because she was "too busy" or "I have to study." She didn't like any of the options in Canto Bight.

Not recently, but at least once a month, the stars would align, and she would spend her free time with you. You would drive around the beach or the upper city laughing for hours—passing plenty of boys as you went.

She would never partake—but you would.

Most experiences were sticky and regrettable… but the Mandalorian… was an anomaly. It probably was the armor or the vocabulator—he made you kriffing feral.

You continue on the upward sloping path for a little longer. So as a sharp ray of light hits your eyes, you are still thinking of Mando. You track the insulting light to its source, and your heart curdles.

Did you summon him with your thoughts?!

You have to look a fair way down, not realizing how high the trail went when you were not paying attention, but Mando is standing there staring up at you.

"Got the bounty," he greets.

"It took a while," you tease, sensing an opportunity, "I've missed you."

You rock back and forth on your heels, and hands folded sweetly at your front.

"My fingers just don't compare."

Did you just go days without seeing each other and that's the first thing you say? Yes. You suppose you are just in one of those moods. And credits have been rolling around your mind since your holo call with Mazey.

You hear the growl even though you are about triple his height above him. Apparently he is in one of those moods too.

"Let's get you back to the ship then." He cocks his helmet in that direction, urging you to come down, masking his need for yours.

You won't let that fly.

"After making me wait this long? I think you should work for it."

And then you do somthing stupid.

Fueled by an inordinate amount of lust and desire for credits that would make a Canto Bight gambler proud—you lift up your top, bra, and all for just a millisecond— and book it in the opposite direction.

You've never heard Mando raise his voice… but you think he does now.

You won't ever know, of course because your lungs are exploding in your chest as your legs carry you as fast as you can run. It's been ages since you've run like this. You can't even explain why you are running—you just do; it just feels like you should.

Mando won't get to you right away. The hill was too steep to climb; he would have to go around. Since your half-baked idea to get more credits involves running: you need as good of a headstart as you can get.

A Mandalorian is paying you for sex, and you just told him he has to work for it, flashed him, then ran away. You're dead.

Holy bantha dung, you are running from a Mandalorian whose stride dwarfs you by a laughable amount.

You nearly blow straight over into the creek, stumbling to catch yourself, then you continue following the river upstream—pulse in your ears.

Your foot snags on a stick, and you stagger, but you don't fall completely. There was this strange feeling, like he is everywhere, on your tail, watching you struggle.

Maker, you feel like prey right now.

You shriek as you round a bend and slam straight into his chest plate like those cheesy horror holos.

Well, that didn't last long.

It's his profession, what were you expecting? A fair fight?

To your surprise, he stumbles back too, not expecting the blow from you either, and you continue past him, air rushing through the modulator. He grabs the clothes along your bicep, but you already have too much momentum, and the grip is lost instantly. Triumph surges through your veins, and you run faster.

Holy bantha dung, you just escaped the clutches of an infamous bounty hunter.

You're wet.

With painfully few options and the river at your side, you scramble up the branches of the nearest tree, the bark scrapping your palms as you scoot upwards. Animal instincts for flight kicking in. Climb Climb Climb. Escape.

Another scream parts your lips as his hand grabs your boot.

Escape.

With light kicks that assist in your ascent up the tree, you sacrifice the boot for the greater good.

You are nimble and flexible. He is strong and sturdy.

Mando can't climb trees.

With a growl, he throws the footwear back at you. It ironically hits your now cold sock-covered foot.

Your panicked scramble successfully led you just out of his grasp. But he stood at the base of the tree, like a wolf; he was willing to wait till his prey became desperate enough for food or water and come down into his clutches. He was going to starve you out. You gush, then sigh, another pair of panties ruined.

"Joey," his voice is calm, the calmest you have ever heard, "come down now."

He paces at the base of the tree.

"Eight whole days Mando," you whine, biting your bottom lip for extra impact.

"The bounty—"he stops his excuses immediately as you sit down on the sturdy branch - letting your legs dangle off the sides with your feet just out of his reach if he jumps.

He had a jetpack. You both know that would be cheating.

You spread your legs obscenely wide, so he could see from below, then drop your hand to relieve your growing needs from the outside of your clothing.

To your utter delight, he growls again. Maker, with the modulator, even his voice fits the part.

Only a few spirals in, your leg hits something closer to the base of the tree. You think it is a vine, but Batuu doesn't really have that kind of vegetation.

You squeal: it's that rope those kids were swinging on earlier!

"Joey! Don't even think abou—"

Too late.

You had a death grip around the rope and jumped. The slack looped around the tree ends abruptly mid-decent and sends you swinging over the creek below.

You look down at the swirling water. It was probably cold… you wanted sex, not a bath.

The rope leads you well onto the other side of the creek, but before you have the reaction to jump off—it begins to swing back towards Mando's waiting arms.

In horror, you let go as is without looking down to double-check. One leg hits land. The other hits water. You yelp as the cold licks all the way up to your knee. But you are already scrambling to shore.

You risk a glance back, and the Mandalorian is already running from view - trying to find a way to cross that did not involve getting soaked.

About five excruciating minutes pass. After the initial run away from the creek, you slowed to hear your surroundings. There was just the distant creek babbling and birds chirping - no Mando.

With slight confidence you were not being directly followed, you stepped out into a clearing, wanting a break from the sticks and rocks constantly assaulting your (now ripped) sock. The marketplace is visible down the sloping hill, but it was aways away: about the size of your thumb held out in front of you.

You take another tentative step forward, then another. The ground was softer here; there were no trees to disrupt the soil, which was good for your foot and bad for cover. There were also fewer rocks, with only one large stone pillar placed off center in the clearing. It was also noticeably muddier.

Birds from a tree behind you let out an alarming chirp, and the group flew away. You stop, searching your surroundings once again—still nothing.

But you didn't need to see proof. The winds had changed; you felt the flutter in your stomach—you were being watched.

You stumble back in alarm. Your chaser took notice and barreled from the shadows, but there were no trees close enough this time. The chase was as good as over. But Maker, you could still try.

Your heart thundered like a drum against your ribs: feet flying faster than they may have ever before, adrenaline roaring. But it wasn't good enough. Mando caught you in seconds, gaining too much ground too quickly— your attempt was laughable. Then he is barreling into you, hooking an arm around your stomach and yanking you backward—knocking you both to the ground. He rolled under you, letting his armored back take the worst of your fall with a grunt, skidding you both to a stop.

You still lay there for a moment, useless with all the air vanished from your lungs. You try to struggle off of him, but the positioning makes it almost impossible with the strength of his arms fastened around your stomach (also not helping your air situation). So you stay pinned tight as you wrestle and writhe to lift against him in the grass.

"Trying to run away like a little bounty?" he snarls in your ear, "you want me to catch you, use you, and throw you in carbonite?"

"Just the second one," you manage to grit out, finally taking in a full ragged breath.

"Kriff," he spits.

He puts more pressure on his grip around you, trying to flip you both so that he has more leverage.

You release a strangled sound towards the clouds and push back against him. In your struggle, you feel a hardness against your ass that was most definitely not his armor. You grind back against it. He sucks in a burst of air and momentarily loosens his hold. Then, with a strangled cry, you are able to squirm from him and start crawling away, pulling at the grass to drag you forwards.

Before you could make your escape, he heaves over and wraps a hand around your ankle, pulling down the fabric of your pants. Your attempt to claw free shimmies your pants over the swell of your ass. You flounder, fine with losing your pants and your boot if he is the one paying for it. The fabric bunching at your thighs restricts your movement, and you can't claw forwards because of the grip on your ankle keeping your leg on the ground.

With pure brute strength, he pulls you back under him by your leg, sending you sliding backward in the mud. He clambers on top of you, limiting your odds of breaking free. You lean into a roll and actually manage to buckle his arm that was supporting his weight.

Mando falls perfectly right between your legs.

Finally, a different position at last!

Now is your chance to show him some skill. That you're more than something to merely drill into for the quickest high. The visor is inches from your nose, forearms planted on either side of your head. Your fight subdued for the moment. You strain to see beyond the tinted glass to no avail, and the proximity makes heat lick up the sides of your neck despite the cool dirt.

"Take me," you whisper sweetly in his ear.

Just as you start to wrap your legs around his waist, Mando sits half-up, gloves clamped to your hips and flips you around under him. Your knees barely have enough time to buckle as his hand secures itself on the back of your neck, putting light force until your face is pinned to the dirt—ass in the air.

Come on! Didn't this man want variety?!

It would be almost comical apart from the growing soreness in your neck each morning.

He yanks down your panties to join the rest of the bunched clothes at your knees. You feel a long, warm trail of slick leading to your ruined undergarment.

Maybe, you think for a moment, if you can get away from him one last time, you'll be able to change positions. Despite the pressure on your neck, you squirm your bare ass forwards, hands clawing uselessly at the grass.

Mando follows forwards with your movements easily, and you hear a zipper. With one last failed lunge forwards, you feel the head of him notch at your entrance and plunges six inches—with room to spare— deep inside of you, guided only by your built-up arousal.

"Joey," he asks surprisingly softly, "this -kirff- this still okay? I—"

You nod against his hand. You think he nods too behind you.

With the confirmation, he continues. His hips drag backward, cock following, before slamming fully back into you. The hand on your neck unintentionally becomes heavier, burying half your face in the dirt. You know your knees were not in any better shape. From what you could see, you both had absolutely desecrated the surrounding grass. Honestly, you never realized you could relate to trampled grass before. You were so exhausted from running and then wrestling that you didn't have the energy during sex. You gladly took what he was giving you, at his speed, gasping or whining softly with each hard measured thrust as he filled you again and again.

In your haze, you remembered comparing him to the predacious hunter. Which, you were now experiencing the full effect of - mating like animals in the dirt. Though you didn't think this would end up with you in carbonite, you pocketed the realization he, too, is enjoying you being his bounty.

The realization makes you, somehow, even wetter. He notices too, grumbling a quick something like, "feels s'good Joey," before picking up the rhythm and returning to your usual (almost) silence.

He locks both hands to your hips, hauling you towards him with more strength than before. You whimper and sprawl your hands forward. He was pinning you. Pummeling into you. It was heaven and hell. It didn't matter how much grass your useless arms uprooted from the dirt— you were being claimed so thoroughly.

You hit your high, back arching against him as he continues the pace through your soft noises.

He follows soon after, collapsing on top of you, gasping for breath in your ear as his helmet rested on your shoulder.

Mando double taps the band on your arm, and the light turns green.

"Thank you." But the murmur is half lost in the dirt.

He pulls you up, and your head swims slightly, eyes adjusting to the scene of the partially crushed field around you and the incoming light you had missed while being pressed into the dirt by a Mandalorian. You stretch and crack your back and neck. Maker, you are completely covered in dirt. Both of your knees are caked with mud, but you bare most of the dirt: hands and arms, shins, breasts, and half your face. Even your hair was probably completely disheveled. You look like someone who just got their brains pounded out… and it was amazing.

The Mandalorian stood to full length behind you, each time taller than you remembered. Yeah, you really did not have much of a chance trying to wrestle him. He held out a gloved hand, and you took it, standing with unsteady legs. Your panties were soaked and cold putting back on; you felt dirty, disgusting, and numb from bliss.

"Let's head back." His voice was trimmed, professional. Just like he had been before he left. Cold.

That's when you remember.

"I need to let this farmer know I won't be able to help him anymore, I shouldn't be gone for more than a few extra minutes if that's okay."

You didn't realize Mando would take those words completely differently.

"You should see his kid," you continue too out of it to be aware of his body language, "he is this tall." You lower your hand to below your waist as a measurement. "The cutest little thing. I was helping him chase a frog."

This time you do notice Mando stiffens. Undoubtedly, even if you could not read his visor. But you couldn't place what you had done.

He snaps the harshest he has spoken to you, interrupting, "If you aren't back in time, I'm leaving you behind."

You flinch.

He turns on his heel and leaves in the direction you think his ship is.

—-

Tears threaten the corners of your eyes.

You can't lose this job. You can't lose this job. You can't mess up. If Mazey doesn't get her scholarship, you will be right back where you started. The lights will go out again. You can’t lose this job. What did you do wrong? You can't afford to mess up.

It plays like an anthem in your head, ringing over and over again.

You're stiff, sore, and covered in mud by the time you stumble onto the farm. They spot you immediately. He was working on some crops while the kid was sitting, playing, or keeping watch for you next to him. The kid excitedly claps his hands when he spots you and pokes his father. He turns around, and waves but his smile falters as you approach.

"Hey," he murmurs, "are you okay?"

"Yes," you lie, "I uh. Fell."

On half your face? Was left unspoken.

He doesn't seem to fully believe you, but you continue anyway. You explained your time on Batuu was coming to an end. And that it was nice getting to know him and his son. You will miss them.

He hands you a small set of watercolors and a single frayed brush he had found as a thank you. You enjoyed helping; it was fun. Inspiration wasn't striking just yet, you still felt… worried. But you thanked him for his kindness, and maybe one day your paths will cross again.

"May the spires keep you." You exchange the Batuu farewell.

——

The ship was still there by the time you returned.

You stumble up the ramp and into the hold, sad and confused.

It closes behind you as soon as you're in. The ship takes off and leaves Batuu without a single word from Mando.

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angelanimedesaray · 3 years

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Wings in the Dark Chapter 6: Stories From the Dark

AN: I feel like this chapter should have been posted around Halloween, but there was NO WAY I was waiting that long XD Also its a bit short, I think, to me, it goes a little quick, partially because I didn’t want to have to write Levi wandering around this little town this whole time having all this meaningless chit-chat meant to fish information, I decided summarizing was best with detail where it counted XD

Characters: Levi, Fem!Vampire!Reader (Mentioned), Erwin, Various OCs and BG Characters

Pairing: (Eventual) Levi x Fem!Vampire!Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of Violence, Descriptions of Murder Aftermath, Description of Fatal Injuries, Description of Buried Alive, Descriptions of Injuries, Language

Word Count: 5188

<----Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter---->

*Levi's POV*

While taking such a sudden few days off might have caused a couple bumps in the way things were developing around HQ, but he knew Erwin would be able to handle it and smooth things over, so he stayed focused on the task at hand.

Stripped of any signia, symbol, or uniform resembling clothes that could suggest that he was part of the military, Levi was dressed in plainclothes, having taken a carriage out to L/N’s supposed hometown early in the morning. He still arrived with plenty of time in the day to investigate the town and see what he could find on-site, taking in the small, easily overlooked town that was more of a loose collection of homes bordered by farms, with a central farmer’s market to keep some local trade and business going. Any serious buying and selling probably consisted in a day’s trip to one of the larger towns within Wall Rose, but it seemed they had basic foodstuffs here. He managed to find a blacksmith tucked away in a corner between a small grouping of houses, as well as an old, empty building that had a weathered carpentry sign in front of it. So there had been more trade smiths around here, before the town gradually lost those businesses.

Talking casually with the blacksmith informed Levi that a ways past the farms, there was a home that was the reason for most of their outside visitors--people who could afford to would put their elderly loved ones in the care center, and there was a separate building for the mentally ill to live comfortably and get the care they needed as well. Visitors to the town usually consisted of relatives visiting their loved ones in the homes, or they were descendants that had moved away but came back for the occasional hometown or family visit.

Which meant Levi, having no ties himself and not knowing about the homes, stuck out a bit despite his best efforts. The communities of small towns were tightly knit and they knew their own, so it couldn’t be helped, and he would have to deal with the fact everyone was going to be curious why he was here.

While talking with the blacksmith, he also heard that the carpentry shop had been the family trade for the Frazier family--the family who lost the daughter sharing L/N’s first name. With the murder of their only child, there was no one to take on the family business, and the building had fallen into disrepair after the parents had gone to the home outside town.

That had caught Levi’s interest. They’d been in the home for years judging from the sign alone, and the impression he’d received was that only the well off could supply their own stay at the home, or their family members paid for it. If there were no children to pay for them, and they’d only been a small carpentry business in a no-name town, how could they afford to be in the home? He doubted it was by the grace of the community, though it was a possibility considering the tragedy that had happened here.

Moving on from the blacksmith so he didn’t ask too many questions in one place, Levi made a mental note to make his way up to the homes to investigate the still-living parents of the original Y/N. Making his way to the farmer’s market, Levi perused for any small town hidden treasures and struck up conversations, looking for a town gossip to get talking about the town’s history so that he could eventually hear the more personal tale of the double homicide than the technical report Erwin had scrounged up for him.

While trying to get the man selling the baked goods to be a little more forthcoming, Levi overheard a small group of children, three or four gathered around each other as one of the older children attempted to scare the smallest of the group with a surprisingly gristly tale.

“...clawed at the wood of the coffin, screaming for someone to hear her, too afraid to realize her screams took up what little air she had. Her fingernails broke and blood coated the coffin, her elbow busted open as she pounded and shrieked for help, but no one could hear her so far beneath the dirt. Some say she did manage to break the wood, but halfway through the dirt falling on her she couldn’t breathe, and body’s still frozen in her silent scream, so close to freedom, no one above ground aware of the terror she felt before she truly died. Now, so she doesn’t feel so alone, Screaming Sally’s ghost crawls out of her grave and drags children like you from their beds and drags them into her coffin below ground.”

The poor youngest was visibly trembling, tears of fright in their eyes before one of the other kids shouted and grabbed them, making the youngest shriek and cry as they laughed and continued to pick on them.

“Tch.” Levi turned to them, a glare in his eyes that he pinned on the older kids who should have known better. “Oi! Cut it out.”

Spooked by the scary voice, and even more so by the scary man they saw glaring at them, the older kids bolted, with the youngest running away once they were free of the older kids, most likely to run home and find comfort from a parent.

Levi turned his attention back to the stall in front of him, a woman beside him buying a basket of rolls as he scowled over the childishly cruel display he’d just seen.

“That’s one messed up horror story for kids to be telling each other,” he muttered, paying for a loaf of bread and waiting for the man to finish wrapping it for him. The woman beside him turned with a small shrug.

“All the children around here know about that stupid story about Screaming Sally. It’s been around for decades, and at this point, it’s almost a rite of passage to hear it eventually.”

Levi looked at her, sensing he might have someone who would be willing to share if he asked the right questions. “How did it start?”

The woman sighed, shaking her head. “Some poor caretaker for the graveyard by the woods about forty years back snapped after that double homicide and started trying to tell people one of the girls crawled out of her grave. Everyone knows it’s impossible, not to mention the grave was undisturbed when folks checked in the morning after seeing how sincere he was. They had to put him in the home because he kept insisting he saw it, and eventually the story turned into the Screaming Sally legend the kids are always sharing to scare each other.”

Levi’s head tilted slightly to the side, eyes widening momentarily in surprise as the unsuspected connection jumped out at him.

For the briefest moment, he was looking back up at Kenny years ago as Kenny shared some outlandish story to try and scare him. When Levi had called out it’s legitimacy and accused him of spewing a nonsense legend that wasn’t even possible, he’d suddenly appeared a little serious, a small frown appearing beneath the brim of that signature hat of his as he gave Levi the reply that now rang in his ears.

“There’s always a little truth to every legend.”

Pretending his surprise was over something else the woman had said, Levi took the chance to try and pry the local story from her.

“Double homicide? Out here?” Levi asked, suggesting that kind of thing never happened in places like this.

In his opinion, they were more likely to happen out here, since it was so damn isolated.

As Levi took his wrapped loaf, the two started to walk together, just a little further down the path as she indulged his curiosity.

“I know--it’s the darkest stain on this town’s history. Still unsolved, too--one of those locked room murders I think they call them. Y/N Frazier and Victoria Schultz. The Fraziers’ daughter had been out late the night before and came to her parent’s home to rest instead of going back to her own home. She was sick the entire next day, and her best friend Victoria came to visit her. Sometime between the moment Victoria and Y/N were in the room together to the time the Fraziers checked in on them a few hours later, some psychopath managed to find their way into the room, tore Victoria apart beyond recognition, and disappeared with the Frazier girl. Without the Fraziers hearing anything amiss! The police thought it might have been the Frazier girl, because it was the only possible explanation considering the bedroom door was locked and any attacker would have had to come in through the window, and neither girl made a sound, so perhaps Victoria knew her attacker--but Y/N’s body showed up on the edge of the woods a few days later, poor girl. They never found out who did it, or what exactly happened. It still haunts the people in the town who are old enough to remember it.”

As the woman spun the more personal version of the tale, Levi’s mind filled in the gristly details that had been in the report he’d read. How there had been hardly any blood left in the mutilated girl left behind lying on the bed, but far less in the room than there should have been, how L/N’s namesake had been found lying just within the forest’s edge, neck bruised and broken, as well as several bones, covered in bruises and lacerations. It was a closed-casket funeral for both. They had no leads, no one with a motive, no mysterious footprint or shadowy figure seen leaving the crime scene. They’d just been murdered out of nowhere, and nothing like it had happened anywhere near the town ever since. It was a sudden, violent anomaly in their history, and one that was going to leave a mark that would never disappear.

Levi said goodbye to the woman with the bread roll basket, standing in the middle of the road with his gaze turned towards the homes he’d been told about, a thoughtful frown on his face.

It seemed he had two reasons to visit this place: the Fraziers and the caretaker.

Once there, as curious as he was, Levi decided against visiting the Fraziers and asking about the events of forty years ago. From what he’d been able to dig up, it was likely something that still haunted them to this day, and he wasn’t here to terrorize the elderly.

He did, however, pry into who was paying for their stay at the home. Once at the front desk, he suggested that he wanted to pay for their stay, asking after the amount it would take and how often, before insisting whatever payments they were making themselves stop so they wouldn’t have to pay out of their own pockets. At that point, he’d been politely turned down, the secretary informing him that the Fraziers already had an angel donor who was paying regularly for their stay at the home.

“Can I get a name so I can talk to them about splitting the payments?” Levi asked, leaning forward slightly in anticipation.

“I’m sorry, but...angel donors are what we call anonymous donors who don’t have any ties to the family but still pay for their care. We don’t know who makes the payments, only that they’re made regularly and on time, so Mr. and Ms. Frazier can spend the rest of their days here. I have no name to give you, not that I could, considering that would be sensitive information,” the secretary said politely, though there was a bit of a chill in her voice brought about by Levi’s questioning. He ignored it, busy mulling over this new detail.

He had no evidence to support it, no reason to suspect it, but what if the angel donor was L/N? He knew she was looking for ways to cut costs with how she spent her money, it was one of the reasons she had the tea garden at HQ--it would save her money in the future by cutting costs she spent on things like tea. And her lack of personal belongings could also be from a lack of money to buy nice things for herself. What if the money she saved from her salary was going towards the Fraziers’ well-being?

Again, he had no evidence. It was just a thought, a far-fetched theory, but it was something to take note of and consider, just in case it wasn’t far off the mark.

Getting the hint from the secretary and knowing he was at a dead end as to who was taking care of the Fraziers, at least for what he would find here in town, Levi moved on to the next objective.

“All right, well, I also came to talk to someone in the psychiatric home. He used to be a cemetery caretaker about forty years ago.”

Recognition immediately sparked in her eyes, as well as a bit of apprehension. “We’ll need you to sign in, as well as put down a reason for visiting.”

“Fine,” Levi replied, taking the paper she slid over and writing Jacob, no last name--not that he’d have one to give even if he was using his actual name--and then wrote down social visit before handing it over. Her eyebrows rose slightly and her gaze flickered up to him from the paper, and Levi gazed back at her calmly, waiting patiently for her to at least direct him the proper way.

“Room seventeen. Follow me,” she said, leading them out the door--since they’d been in the home for the elderly--and a little ways away to the other building that acted as the psychiatric home. Once inside she led Levi up two flights of stairs and down a fairly long hall to let Levi into the room marked seventeen in white paint. “Mr. Briarton, you have a visitor,” she said after opening the door, allowing Levi to step into the room and take in a man in his late fifties, early sixties, suspicious pale green eyes narrowed at Levi as he stepped inside.

“I don’t knows you,” the man rasped.

“Jacob,” Levi said bluntly, stepping deeper into the room and staying conscious of the fact the secretary was temporarily lingering to make sure everything was going to be all right. “I came to hear your story.”

“Hah? Here to mock an old man?” Briarton sneered.

“No. Just to listen,” Levi responded simply. Briarton sized Levi up for a moment, then looked at the secretary still standing in the doorway and gave a small wave.

“We’re fine, Janice, you can leave now. I’s knows the rest of you’s is tired of hearin’ my tale.”

“Are you sure, Mr. Briarton.”

“Eh,” he grumbled, and Janice sighed and shut the door, leaving the two of them behind. “Why exactly are you’s interested in hearin’ my story? Everyone else says I’m’s crazy. Locked me up for it, too!”

“I’ve heard the town legends. Someone I knew used to say there’s always a bit of truth to the legends. So I’m here looking for the truth,” Levi answered, leaning up against the wall with arms folded over his chest.

“Hmm…” Briarton hummed, contemplating Levi’s reason before he sighed. “I’s guessin’ you’s already heard ‘bout the murders, if you’s here.”

At Levi’s nod, Briarton skipped over the events that came before, and went right to talking about the burial. “Closed caskets they’s were. Victoria had a pine box, Mr. Frazier insisteds on makin’ Y/N’s hisself, out of willow. We’s buried them midday, six feets down in the grounds, six feets dried earth on those boxes. I’s told they’s were both dead for sures, no comin’ back--specially poor Victoria. Schultz’s weren’t allowed to sees hers it was so bad. Course we’s all thoughts abouts it, we’s all hoped back then the killer’d get caught. People kept comin’ by till it gots too dark and I’s closed the cemetery for the’s night. My’s job was to make sure no ones messed with the graves, and I’s was patrollin’ like usual, and for the’s longest time, I didn’t hear nut-thin. But sometime in the wee hours of the mornin’, as I’s was comin’ up on the girls’s graves, I saw somethin’ movin on the ground on tops of one. I’s went to yells at them, to tell ‘em kids to scram, cause that’s what I’s thoughts they were. But when I’s got close enough to see a bit better, I’s realized they’s was comin’ up from the ground--outta the ground. I’s was frozen in place, watchin’ them’s drag themselves out of the dirt, clawin’ across the ground likes a wounded animal. I’s was tryin’ to scream, but I’s couldn’t makes a sound.”

Briarton stopped, his wide eyes turned towards Levi. “Do you’s know how heavy the dirts is on a coffin? How hard it is to break open a coffin? Impossible’s what it is! My’s brother once locked me’s in one to scares me, and my’s mother lost it whens she found out. I’s was kickin’ and screamin’ for what’s felt like hours tryin’ to break out, but all I’s got from it was bloody hands and elbows. Ands that was without the dirts on tops of it. But I’s swears this girl busted out and crawled outta hers grave. Even if she’s managed to breaks the coffin, she’d’da been crushed bys the dirts. But she’s still crawled outta hers grave. She’s stood up, covered in fresh bloods and dirts, and she’s shoved dirt backs into the hole she’s crawled outta like a drunkard, gaspin’ and wheezin’ and wailin’ like a banshee, an’ then she’s disappears into the night. An’ I’s ran for help, jus’ to get calleds crazy and locked up in here.”

Levi listened to Briarton’s tale in silence, studying the man’s face closely as he spoke to see if the man truly believed every word he was saying. The terror in the man’s eyes was real, though, as he spoke of the impossibility of the haunting image, and there was no trace of insincerity in his face as he spoke. He truly believed in the tale he was telling. Considering the impossibility of it all, Levi also doubted, but he wasn’t going to call him out on in--enough people already believed this man crazy, Levi wasn’t going to add himself to the mix.

He only had one question.

“Who was the woman who crawled out of her grave?” Levi asked steadily, though the crawl of his skin as he said it told him he already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear Briarton say it.

“Y/N Frazier.”

The day had cooled--in fact, it was starting to feel chillier, the sun frequently hidden by clouds that seemed to be gathering across the sky, hinting at fouler weather on the horizon. After taking his leave of Briarton at the home, Levi went looking for the now infamous cemetery--infamous in his mind, at least--and had made his way to the grave of one Y/N Frazier, where he now stood in silent contemplation, staring intently at the headstone that had engraved upon its surface the girl’s name, a birthday and date of death that showed she had barely been in her twenties, and a brief, “Beloved Daughter.”

He wasn’t really seeing the grave anymore, though. His mind was a flurry of thoughts, theories, memories, information...none of the connections he’d made here made any kind of sense to him, but there were far too many to be ignored. There was something here, something that seemed to be staring him in the face, but he couldn’t see what it was, so he couldn’t use it. Not yet, anyway.

Maybe Briarton really was crazy, maybe he hadn’t seen Y/N Frazier crawl out of that grave that night and he’d simply snapped like everyone suggested he had. But there was nothing to have caused him to snap, no trigger. Not to mention, the sheer coincidence was far too strong to be a coincidence.

So, he entertained the possibility that the bizarre and impossible happened, that Y/N Frazier somehow survived, a mistake had been made somewhere and she was buried alive, and managed to crawl out of this very grave. Ignoring the impossibility of that scenario still didn’t give him many answers. If Y/N Frazier was still alive, she would have been sixty, seventy years old by now. L/N back at the Scout Headquarters was in her early twenties, and very clearly /not dead/. So, L/N definitely wasn’t this Y/N Frazier.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t be related somehow. If the original girl did survive, it would be possible for L/N to be Frazier’s daughter, maybe even grand-daughter, though that was starting to push the theory beyond what he was willing to suspend believing as impossible.

One thing the Screaming Sally horror story had made him remember, and that Briarton’s recounting had brought to the front of his mind to offer him another connection, was the conversation the other day between the rest of his Squad and L/N.

He remembered the tremble in her hand, the stillness in her posture, the flash of soul-deep fear, trauma, and pain in her eyes as L/N had softly stated that her biggest fear was being buried alive.

He had something big here, but he wasn’t sure where it fit in this messed up puzzle he was trying to solve, and was missing some key piece that connected it to something else. He needed more than ever to see what she was doing in the Underground when she snuck out at night--whatever it was, he was convinced at this point it was the missing piece he needed to make sense of all of this.

But first, he needed to do something that would give him a definitive answer amongst all these legends and tall tales.

It was a new low for him, he knew that. The entire ordeal felt wrong and filthy on an entirely new level, but it was something he had to do. No one else had thought to look, to disturb the grave of one of the murdered girls to see if there was any validity to Briarton’s claims, to the stories of Screaming Sally. Everyone brushed it off as nonsense and went about their day, probably because it was so certain, and it was easier to believe the horror stories were nonsense.

Levi didn’t have that luxury. He didn’t have the certainty, and the easier route was not the one he was going to take. He needed answers. So, he’d returned briefly to Headquarters in order to enlist Erwin’s help to give him the opportunity late that very same night to dig up the grave and settle once and for all whether Y/N Frazier had died. It would help clear up some of the questions and theories when he found her body in the coffin, and it might put them back at square one in figuring out why this place and this name had been chosen by Y/N, but it would help bring them back to a world that made some sense, and it would help weed out a few questions that these legends and stories had brought up.

He didn’t want to think of the implications if the grave was empty. He doubted it would be, but if it was...then this entire mess went far deeper than he could ever imagine.

Perhaps that was why Erwin agreed to help him, why he’d paid off the caretaker to make sure the grave was empty but leave the section Levi was going to be in undisturbed until Levi left. Erwin clearly hadn’t approved of disturbing a gravesite, especially the gravesite of a murder victim, but Levi had strongly believed it was necessary despite his own misgivings, so Erwin had relented.

Now, Levi was in a hole that passed his head, digging the last few inches to the willow coffin Y/N Frazier had been buried in, filthy and tired but determined to get to the bottom. Just a little further, and he would have his answer. He would see the bones in an undisturbed grave, fill in the grave once more, go home, wash up, hate himself for a while for doing this to confirm what he already knew, and then go back to trying to figure out why L/N seemed so deeply connected to this place.

He hadn’t found any bodies frozen on its way to the surface, so he could already rule out the legitimacy of the children’s scary story about Screaming Sally, at least.

The shovel Levi was using scraped against something solid, and Levi paused. Here it was. He’d found it.

Kneeling down, Levi started brushing away at dirt so he could find the coffin lid, fingers brushing against wood, hand brushing a little harder to smooth away dirt--

He had to pull his hand back as he unexpectedly came into contact with splintered wood sticking up into the dirt, piercing his hand and drawing blood as he jerked in surprise, breath catching.

No…

A few more careful brushes with his hand, and he was staring at a coffin lid that had been busted open, shards of wood buried in dirt, but the hole clearly enough for a person to crawl out of. He froze where he was as he stared at the sight before him, the odd, irrational fear that a hand was going to burst out of the hole and grasp his wrist strangely flashing through his mind before he pushed it aside. He wasn’t breathing anymore, an admittedly trembling hand reaching out to pull back the lid, just to double check and confirm what he was seeing.

The grave was, in fact, empty. The coffin was busted open with gouges that had old red stains upon them, as if it had been punched and clawed through from the inside.

His blood running cold and his breaths shallow, Levi had to fight not to think of the haunting image Briarton had described, the fear in L/N’s eyes, and the mental image of a woman trapped in this grave screaming and crying for help, having to tear apart her own body and defy all odds to crawl her way to the surface, tried not to imagine the terror of being buried alive like this.

Kenny had been right. There was always a bit of truth to the legend. He never imagined it would be this much truth, though.

When Levi returned to HQ, the first thing he did was clean himself up and get changed. Then, he made himself some of the tea L/N had gifted him, choosing one of the blends meant to calm in the hopes that it would help settle his nerves after what he’d seen.

Outside, he might still appear stoic, but inside, he was shaken.

Once he was clean, he had his tea, and he felt he had a better grip on himself internally and he was ready for the conversation, he went to Erwin’s office and very solemnly relayed his findings to the man, who looked no less disturbed by this unexpected turn of events than Levi had been. They’d expected some kind of secret while digging into the truth about L/N, they hadn’t been expecting a full blown conspiracy on this level.

Once Erwin was up to speed on Levi’s findings, they started to hash out some theories and details, both of them well aware that they were still missing something crucial as they attempted to make a broader picture with the pieces they were currently in possession of.

The running theory they were working with was that Y/N Frazier was L/N’s mother. It was the most logical connection they could come up with, even though it dumped a whole new slew of questions into this mess.

Why did Frazier run after she crawled out of her grave? Why not return to her home and family, alive and well? Why leave the town behind and everyone in it believing she’d died so terribly? Why never come back to tell who had attacked her and her friend Victoria? What happened that night forty years ago? How had she managed to crawl her way out of a grave? Why had she instead disappeared somewhere inside the walls never to be discovered or heard from again, hiding her true identity remarkably well? Or more importantly, how had she been alive? How did she survive those injuries? Had a mistake been made and she’d been assumed dead? Was the report faked?

How was the Underground supposed to come into play in all of this, and what part did L/N have in it as well? If Frazier was indeed L/N’s mother, was Frazier still alive and living in the Underground? Was that why L/N went down there every now and then? Why not bring her mother to the surface with her? Why, when she came to the surface, did L/N take Frazier’s first name and not use her last name? Why not use her real name? How did the events of forty years ago play into now, and how had it had an affect on L/N?

As always, whenever they uncovered something about L/N, it always came with a thousand more questions. They could theorize all they wanted, but it wouldn’t bring them closer to finding the answers that they craved at this point.

And still, despite the shock and the...unease he had felt to find the empty grave and realize the reality of what happened in that town--or at least part of it--Levi still felt like there was another reality altering twist in this dark tale that was unraveling in front of them that would be far worse. He still felt like they were far off the mark, that the still failed to understand the reality of what they were stepping into. More than ever, Levi felt there was something dark behind this, and he began to feel the first hints of malice surrounding these secrets.

Whatever L/N was hiding, at this point, Levi knew it had to be dangerous.

Erwin’s concerned eyes probed Levi’s expression as Levi gazed at the empty teacup in front of him, well aware that despite his feeble attempt to calm his nerves and thoughts, he wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight.

“Levi--” Erwin started to say in a grave tone of voice, but Levi cut him off. He knew what Erwin was about to say, and he already knew what he had to do next.

“I know. All I’m waiting for now is for her to make the next move. This time, she won’t shake me.”

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags: @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier@whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea

Wings in the Dark Tags: @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs @sociallyanxiousmouse

114 notes · View notes

violet-dragongirl · 2 years

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you know with the lack of affordability for mental healthcare, to the way a lot of us, both with mental health issues and friends who may deal with a friend who has mental health issues, I come back to that post of sympathy has an expiration date, but I also think (callously I admit), that even with therapy as a sliding scale and with the scheduling issues that come into effect, sometimes I feel like the statement to aggressively tell people to "go to therapy" has it's limits as well and also is just generally...not good.

I say this out of experience and observation mostly, and while it may have it's solidification of a quick solution to an immediate mental problem, it's stil lreally harmful for both myself and yes my friends

So I have a question:

Who do you go to in between sessions when a sudden flare of anxiety, depression, or a psychotic episode?

It can't be your friends right? At some point they're going to have too much to handle.

So then you call your therapist for an earlier day...if you've concluded that as big as a flare it was, it's "not that bad"

And IF they're even available to that earlier reschedule.

So it's an emergency, or you've declared it as such.

How much of an emergency is it? Is it enough to warrant calling your therapist directly and pleading for a session at that moment? Would it be enough for a hotline be able to directly connect to the emphasis of the problem and not make it feel so disconnected because there's an entire history you probably would need to tell them, or can't tell them?

And the worst of the choices: having to call 911 because it's just that available.

I haven't even listed the extreme costly risks for each choice one could make with a flare up like that.

So again:

Who do you go to in between sessions when a sudden flare of anxiety, depression, or a psychotic episode?

But there's another thing you're probably thinking:

"What about the "What" of that solution? You know, coping mechanisms!"

I would agree, and that could and should be your next step! I've most certainly done it before--including the "How" "Where" "When" and even the "Why It's All Happening At The Worst Time"...

...when it was available to have an immediate effect.

I think of the times when I had so many mental illness flares in a string of a couple of weeks that I went to what I can do to cope for the time being with the least and most minimal amount of risk involved (yeah some of us DO have to weigh the pros and cons of just Going Outside, Sandra). And I would have about 2 to 3 coping mechanisms ready for such a thing...

...but the flare was too great.

The most I've been able to do is sleep when I can, and If I can't, due to being outside or in a public area or just not being at home and on an important errand, I was indeed in serious trouble. Because then my whole body would get exhausted, and if I was in the middle of important errands and the coping mechanisms that I could carry with me didn't work, passing out, or if I'm lucky, blanking out, has a very high chance of happening--which can lead to embarrassing moments during and after the episode, which can compound and amplify the type of flare I have.

It's a horrifying domino effect for some i bet. I know it would be for me--even if the situation calmed down and people told me "see, it wasn't that bad", making my episode entirely dismissed or some other kind of shameful feeling brought about.

There's also the whole ordeal that within that moment I could wind up in a far worse place than anyone would ever want to be in.

So what I do I do you ask if all else fails?

I bottle it in. I hide it.

I say "it's okay", "I'm fine", "don't worry I'm used to this"

or something along those lines. Just so I won't start anything that would endanger me.

I was told for a good portion of my life to not bottle things up. Look how that turned out--even with the therapy I have now and had in the past.

That's a mess on it's own and I do have opinions about why that is something that I feel like is a massive social and cultural problem due to just the fact that people have limits.

For me, most of the time, when I'm back at square one, when both my coping mechanisms are useless at the time, and when I can't talk about these heavy things to either my friends, parents (goodness forbid for me), or therapists, I'm left figuring it out on my own

Back into the "I have to do everything myself" individualistic kind of thought that can lead to just...well very bad scenarios and ways of thinking (and I've been there before; it's not even remotely a fun place to be).

So now...back at square one...or close to it if not directly back at the question of:

Who do you go to in between sessions when a sudden flare of anxiety, depression, or a psychotic episode?

I wish--I dearly wish I had concrete solutions and answers to this.

I don't.

I really feel like there isn't one just yet and we may have to dig farther in ourselves to find those solutions and answers.

I don't have anyway to conclude this other than, those at home who might relate to anything I said while in a terrible mental episode and have exhausted the mechanisms and channels needed to safely get out of that headspace or manage it better, or mitigate the damage already being done:

Rest while you can. Sleep if you can. And do the best you can, even if it's just reminding yourself of something that can keep those illnesses at bay til you can get the help you need. I wish I could say the exact right thing to you, but even what I said above might sound...hollow. For that, I'm truly sorry.

#=(#irrelevant babble

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gemmaswriting · 4 years

Text

Anidala Fanfiction Recommendations!!

I’ve been asked for a long time for my fanfiction recommendations, so I’ve finally taken the time to compile them. If there are any you love that I missed out (this includes Vaderdala!) leave them as a reply so we can all have a good time reading together.

Writer: Shelivesfree (fanfiction profile) This wonderful girl has some of the most amazing Anidala stories I have ever had the pleasure of reading. Unfortunately, a lot of them have been hiatus for a while but her Boy Next Door trilogy has two amazing parts completed.

The stories I recommend:

“The Boy Next Door”: “When Padme Naberrie returns to her home after 10 years, the last thing she expects to find is her childhood friend, Anakin Skywalker; the boy next door. But 10 years is a long time, and he has changed more than she is prepared for. How will she react when little Ani is now a grown man, impulsive, handsome and completely infatuated with her? Modern AU.”

“The Girl from Harvard”: “Sequel to ‘The Boy Next Door’ Absence makes the heart grow fonder. It also makes it grow more paranoid. Padme is in her last year of Harvard. Anakin has just started at the University of Chicago. Though they won't admit it, their long-distance relationship is taking it's heavy toll. Will their love prevail or will the distance prove too much for both of them? Sequel to The Boy Next Door. Modern AU.”

“look into my eyes, that's where my demons hide”: ”Each time he comes back to her, a little piece of him is missing... left out there, in the field, with his brothers. She can see it in the way he smiles and it doesn't reach his eyes. In the way he cries to himself when he thinks she's not awake. And all she can do is hold him. Modern AU.”

“I Know Your Type” “Am I dead?" It slips out, accidentally. She turns her head towards me, a confused look on her face and tips her head. "Excuse me?" Flashing her an impish grin, I lean casually against the wall. "I must have died and gone to heaven, because you look like an angel." The look she gives me is far from impressed. "Do you use that with all the girls, or am I just lucky?"

“we both know what we want, so why don't we fall in love?” “Rhythmic Gymnast Padme Naberrie has dreamed of being an Olympian since she was five years old. Now, after years and years of training and preparations, she's finally made it to Rio, and nothing is going to stand in the way between her and a gold medal. Except a certain Canadian beach volleyball player, perhaps.”

“Infinite” “ My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

“for a moment” “And, just for a moment, all the worries and concerns that troubled the young couple cease to exist. Fade away to just this. Husband and wife. Asleep. Dreaming of the sweet little life they will soon bring into the world and into their hearts. Set somewhere in ROTS.”

“Procrastination” “Padmé is busy with a new bill she must bring before the next Senate meeting. Her husband has other ideas, it would seem.”

“There’s a million reasons I should give you up” “Padmé struggles to deal with Anakin's frequent departures for weeks, even months, at a time during the Clone Wars. It's in these moments she contemplates the practicality of their marriage. Grief-stricken with loneliness, she stumbles across something she wrote a long time ago... a list of sorts. The find brings about a whole host of emotions she'd rather not deal with.”

“all I need is you” “It was her fault. His pain, his jealousy, his insecurity. It was all her fault. Padme looked up at the beautiful man in front of her, her husband, her Ani, and decided she needed to make him remember. Remind him of how much she loved him. Because no one, no man in the entire galaxy, could take the place of Anakin Skywalker.”

“Her” “A glimpse into the Cosmic Force after Darth Vader's redemption and return to the Light Side. Anakin Skywalker is consumed by guilt and Obi-wan and Yoda are there to appease him. But it's been twenty-four years and all he wants is to see her.”

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Writer: SphinxScribe (Fanfiction profile/ Tumblr account @sphinxscribe ) This fantastic writer has many, many alternate takes on the plot of Revenge of the Sith - often allowing our favourite couple to have a happy ending. Their writing captures the world of Star Wars perfectly.

The stories I recommend:

“Where Catalysts Stand Down” “Palpatine issues Order 66, and Anakin and Padmé flee Coruscant. ROTS AU. Anakin/Padmé, Anidala.”

“Viability’s Edge” “Anakin tells Obi-Wan the truth. ROTS AU. Anakin/Padmé, Anidala.”

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Writer: Disco Shop Girl (Fanfiction profile) This writer’s take on Anidala is so well written within every story of theirs I have read. They truly capture their dynamic and relationship perfectly.

The stories I recommend:

“Your helmet cracked” “He'd been restrained, forced to watch while her helmet cracked and the Mon Calamari sea water threatened to drown her before his eyes. Now they're free. And alone. Set at the end of the Clone Wars season 4 Water War arc.”

“Order 66-S” “The order was to exterminate all Jedi: Past, Present and Future. Captain Rex has a different plan. Order 66-S: to save General Skywalker.”

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Writer: Rogue Darth Skywalker (Fanfiction profile/ Tumblr - @roguedarthskywalker) This wonderful person has been one of the biggest supporters of my own writing for a long time and I value them immensely! They have many delicious Anidala/Vaderdala stories for you to obsess over for hours and hours. I highly recommend following both profiles linked above.

The stories I recommend:

“Pin up Problems” “He hated the nose art. He hated seeing others degrade her other exceptional qualities by depicting her as some pin up girl. He hated thinking about how many other beings across the stars fantasized about her in such a way. At the same time, he can't deny that the art makes her look… hot. He can't deny that the sight turns him on.”

“Letting Go” “It was their custom. Every year on that fateful day, Anakin would make his way to the cemetery with his children and seek out the mausoleum where she rested."

“Far from Perfect” “Darth Vader is dead. Anakin is redeemed and lives on Naboo with Padme and their children. But not all happy endings are perfect.”

“Far from Easy” “Sequel to Far From Perfect. Redeemed Anakin Skywalker tries to make things right with his wife and kids.

“Perfect” “Happy Family style AU post ROTS. Padme wakes up in the middle of the night and ponders the most recent events in her life.”

“A Dangerous Fantasy” “Pure Smut. Padme helps Anakin fulfil a fantasy he has had since they were married- one that involves the Jedi Council Chambers.”

“Untitled” “Anakin and Padme deal with having to tell their young twins they are having another baby.”

“Strictly Professional” “There are times she hates that she has to resort to this- that rather than being in a long term relationship with someone, she chose to instead pay someone for sex. Modern AU.”

“Out of his Depth” “I fought in a war. I commanded legions of soldiers against battle droids. I think I can handle my own four-year-old twins."

“Love and Jealousy” “Anakin gave the binders an experimental tug, testing his chances of escaping. There was none. A light chuckle left his lips after a few moments, letting his head fall back to rest on the chair. What a compromising position for a Jedi Knight to be in. Handcuffed in a respected senator's bedchambers practically naked… oh, how the holonews would rave should the story get out!”

“Against all Odds” “He shouldn't be here. The election was only a few weeks away and the final debate was due in the next few days. There were so many other things he should be doing. He shouldn't be here, in enemy territory wrapped in the arms of the woman his boss despised. Modern AU. Smut.”

“What we Hope is Never Found” “The impending existence of a recording of them together held dangers that went a little deeper than if they were found naked and tangled together in her office or on his cruiser. The physical proof of their relationship would cause an uproar if it were discovered. But she trusted Anakin. Smut.”

“It was Found” “Sequel to What We Hope is Never Found.”

“Things that go bump in the night” “Luke and Leia think there is a ghost in their home. Their parents know better.”

“Preparations” “She couldn't wait to meet their little ones. It hadn't been too long since they learned she was having twins, and as stressful as that idea was at first, she was quickly growing accustomed to the idea of having two perfect little babies. Her husband, however, seemed to be taking it a little worse than her.”

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Writer: Skywalkersamidala (Archive of our Own profile/ Tumblr @markantonys) I absolutely adore the Anidala stories created by this author whether they’re aus or canon! They nail the couple’s dynamic throughout their many wonderful stories.

The stories I recommend:

“Snow Place like Home” “For genre-typical convoluted reasons involving ill-timed blizzards, Padmé is forced to spend the holidays at Anakin's house. Anakin isn't as upset about his boss staying with him for Christmas as he probably should be.“

“Soulmates R Us” “Anakin works at a toy store, and single-mother-of-twins Padmé is becoming one of the store's best customers.”

“Heirs of Light and Darkness” “After escaping the Jedi purge two years ago made him the most wanted fugitive in the galaxy, Anakin Skywalker has at last been captured by the Empire. He expects to be killed, but Lady Padmé Amidala, the imperial heir, has other ideas.”

“Friendly Competition” “Playing Quidditch is awfully difficult when you’re in love with the rival Seeker. Snapshots of Anakin and Padmé’s 7 years at Hogwarts.“

“Perfect” “The war is over, Luke and Leia are five years old, and Anakin and Padmé finally have the peaceful life and big family they've always dreamed of. But their life is about to get a little less peaceful and their family a little bigger.“

“Nos Cedamus Amori“ “Anakin is a gladiator and a slave. Padmé is the wife of the Roman emperor's heir. Circumstances should never even allow them to meet, let alone fall in love.“

“I Do Take Two” “Thirty years after their clandestine wedding on Naboo, Anakin and Padmé decide to finally do the proper wedding ceremony they never got to have, with all their friends and family present.“

“Flat Tire” “Who knew something as simple as getting a flat tire could change the entire course of your life?“

“Strays” “Anakin had always had a penchant for taking in strays.”

“Five weddings and a funeral” “Padmé's feeling gloomy about her perpetual singleness, but everything changes when she meets an attractive stranger at her sister's wedding.“

“Pipe Dream” “Padmé's new plumber is the most attractive human being she's ever laid eyes on, so naturally, she keeps faking plumbing emergencies so she can keep seeing him.“

“Birthdays and Birth days” “Anakin gets a birthday surprise — two of them, in fact.“

“Spouses with Benefits” “Anakin and Padmé wake up after a wild night in Vegas and discover they accidentally got married—and that Ahsoka posted about it all over social media, so now every single person they know is texting and calling them to offer congratulations. They decide to save face by pretending the marriage was totally 100% intentional and not a drunk mistake at all, keeping up the charade for six months, and then quietly getting divorced. But a lot can change in six months…“

“Two Halves Make a Whole” “Anakin is the single dad of Luke. Padme is the single mom of Leia. Luke and Leia meet in kindergarten and become best friends. The rest is history.“

“Home” “In which "Darth Vader" is no more than Anakin's playtime alter ego (happy Skywalker family AU)“

“Someday” “At age fourteen, Padme receives a marriage proposal from the nine-year-old boy next door and tells him to ask her again when she's thirty. Surely he'll have forgotten all about it by then.“

“Across the Centuries” “They meet each other in every century, but something always goes wrong before they can make it to happily-ever-after.”

“Madam President” “Between late nights and headaches and mountains of paperwork and fierce opposition from her political opponents, President Padmé Amidala already had enough on her plate. And then she just had to go and fall for one of her bodyguards, a relationship which would ruin her reputation and his career if anyone were to find out about it. Also, someone's trying to kill her.“

“Scars” “How do Anakin and Padmé go from "I love you" to "I do"? Missing scene from Attack of the Clones.”

“The Bet” “Anakin's had a crush on Padmé since fourth grade, and after putting up with his pining for seven years, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are finally stepping in and making a bet that he can't ask her to junior prom in the spring. Meanwhile, Padmé is realizing that Anakin isn't as annoying as she'd always thought. In fact, her feelings towards him are starting to go in quite the opposite direction...”

“Three” “His and Padmé’s first wedding anniversary isn’t going nearly as well as Anakin had hoped it would. Until, suddenly, it’s so much better than he could have ever imagined.“

“The Anakin Disaster” “Padmé is mortified upon waking up beside her strictly platonic childhood best friend Anakin Skywalker the morning after a drunken one-night stand. A couple weeks later, she discovers that's the least of their problems.“

“Will You Fake Marry Me?” “Anakin's boss may or may not have accidentally given her family the impression that she's engaged to him. Anakin may or may not be pleased about the situation”

“Aggressive Negotiations” “Empress Amidala invites Lord Vader to her private rooms to persuade him to form an alliance with the Empire. Her methods are very effective.”

“Troubling Implications” “Perhaps he hated himself for it—Padmé thought he probably did—but he came that night (several times, in fact). And the night after that, and the next one, and the next, until it became a habit that neither of them seemed especially inclined to break. (Sequel to "Aggressive Negotiations")

“Imperial Obligations” “Padmé's advisors suggest that she get rid of Vader and make a politically advantageous marriage. The Empress is less than pleased. (Sequel to "Aggressive Negotiations" and "Troubling Implications")”

“Welcome Home” “Anakin Skywalker closes his eyes on the face of his son. When he opens them again, he is in Naboo, and someone is waiting for him.“

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Writer: Shawn30 (Fanfiction profile) The one, the only, the deservedly famous! I think every Anidala fan is aware of this f a n t a s t i c writer’s work. Deliciously smutty. Unbelievably well written. Unfortunately, many of their works have been left uncompleted for years but the stories are still worth reading!

“Whisper” “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but can also whither your soul and breed doubt in your heart. AP angsty erotica.”

“The Ties that Bind” “Given a brief period of time off during the Clone Wars, Padmé and Anakin visit her family at the Lake Country estate on Naboo. A family that still doesn't know they are married, although they are about to find out. Complete.”

“The Light and the Dark” “Chapter 1 in the Hearts and Souls series. An unexpected Separatist attack 'accidentally' reunites two star-crossed lovers, giving them a brief moment of peace at a time of war. Complete.”

“Shadows of Winter” “Chapter 2 in the Hearts and Souls series. With six days to spend together celebrating their two year anniversary, Anakin and Padme travel separately to a remote planet in the Hoth system. Romance, passion, and danger await them. Complete.”

“Beloved” “Chapter 3 in the "Hearts and Souls" series. When faced with the most horrific news imaginable, Padme's utter desperation forces her to turn to Obi-Wan and even Chancellor Palpatine for help. Her greatest personal challenge awaits... Complete”

“Paradise” “The sequel to "Beloved." Following Padme's daring rescue of her husband, the Skywalker's return to Naboo for eight days to heal, unwind, spend time with family, and deal with their connection to the Dark Side of the Force.”

“Salvation” “After facing his moment of truth, Anakin and Padmé must finally deal with the consequences. Obi-Wan reveals a startling discovery. Complete”

“Scandalous” “The sequel to Salvation. On the eve of Padmé Skywalker's official ascension to the role of Vice Chair of the Republic, Anakin steals her away for a wild vacation to Cloud City. Complete.”

“Sacred” “Chapter 2. Ahsoka and Jo'Seth grow closer. Padme's trip to the Jedi Temple on Republic business turns a bit more adventurous. Anakin and Obi-Wan have a heart to heart talk about moving forward.”

“Belonging” “A private afternoon lunch to catch up with an old friend during the Clone Wars reveals a great deal to ObiWan Kenobi. AP”

“Before the Seasons Change” “With the Darth Sidious finally defeated and the Clone Wars ended, Anakin and Padme consider what comes next in their lives. Anakin/Padme”

“Amor Vincit Omnia” “AU. After a three and a half year separation Vice Chair Amidala and Jedi Master Skywalker have some unfinished business as the Clone Wars have finally ended and Palpatine is dead.”

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If there’s any stories I missed, let me know!

#Anidala #anidala fanfiction #Vaderdala #vaderdala fanfiction #Anidala fic rec

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floatinginwords · 3 years

Text

Saved by the Devil (12/?) - Tommy Shelby

Summary: One week before Epsom you or tommy can get your minds off one another

Paring: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (romantic)

A/N: sorry it took so long for me to post this chapter. this semester is just killing me. i really hate online school dude. oh and fair warning i did not proof read this so there might be mistakes please be forgiving towards them. Hope you enjoy and have a fantastic night.

One week before Epsom. A lot was going through your head as time seem to go faster and faster. Tommy hadn’t called you or seen you since you were last in Birmingham.

‘Probably busy with May’ you thought to yourself. You rolled your eyes as you recount her giggles and flirtatious behavior.

“What was that?” Trinity asks. You almost forgot she was in the same room as you. You almost forgot you were in her house. Giving her the last of what you needed for when you were ready to runaway from the country.

“Sorry, just thinking.” You say, going back to sipping your tea.

“Okay, is there anything else I need to worry about or hide for you.”

“Well hopefully I wont need to have so many fake ids, and I can get a legitimate one.” You say sighing.

“Hows that going?”

“Its going.” You say, though you weren’t really sure if helping Thomas Shelby ensured you for what you wanted. Its why you had a backup plan. You always did.

“When are you leaving, (Y/n)?” Trinty asks.

“next Friday hopefully.”

Trinitys eyes almost pop out of their socket. “That soon?!”

You nod. Right after Epsom you were gone. You needed to make quick moves and this one seemed the quickest and smartest. You were starting to recognize faces on trains and buses. Men were following you. You didn’t know who these men were and why they casually followed you places but it helped you make an important decision that it was time to leave. And soon.

“What are you gonna do about Thomas Shelby?”

“What about him?”

She wiggles her eyebrows at you.

“No.” You say.

“oh cmon, you want him a little bit at least.”

“Not even.” You lie.

“Oh cmon he calls you and you rush to him like a puppy and vice versa. Ada told me that when she called him when you were missing he dropped everything to help you, even rushed over himself.” She says

“Trinity please drop it. Hes just someone good to have around.”

“Yea he is.” She says suggestively.

“No.” You say but the two of you end up giggling at Trinity’s antics as you enjoy the rest of your afternoon.

Thomas Shelby stares across at the empty seat that not too long ago held a sitting Grace. It felt like years since he had seen her. And he thought that the same emotions from before, from every other time he saw her would brew back up and he’d be in love with her again. But as she talked about America and her new husband all he could see was the woman who betrayed him and his family. She left, nothing happened between them, though it easily could have. He sits and thinks about the woman in his life. He thinks about Greta how he held her hand as he died, Grace the way she had made him smile for the first time in years and then broke hi heart as if it was the first time ever, May who was charming but he knew he would never talk to her after (seeing as he was only using her). And there was you. No amount of words can describe you accurately. They wouldn’t do you justice. Tommy smiles as he recalls the last time he saw you. The flustered look as he said the word ‘date’ as you left the pub. Polly had demanded answers on what he was doing with you. Which he calmly replied, “Business pol, don’t worry about it.” He saw the tension between the two of you when he had walked in. He knew that polly would grow to love and trust you the more she got to know you. You were just that type of person.

Without thinking he picks up the phone, calling adas house. Lucky for him, its you that picks up.

“hello?”

“(Y/n).”

“Mr.Shelby. Are you calling for Ada?”

“No, I was calling for you. How do you feel about Charlie Chaplin?”

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It was only two hours ago when you had gotten back from Trinitys when the phone rang in you and Adas shared house. You picked up naturally not expecting to hear the sweet deep voice of Thomas Shelby. He had invited you out, which you accepted without thinking. He had picked you up in a car after telling you to dress nice which you did finding a dress you never worn. It was a lovely shade of green. A pity for it to go waste.

You kept telling yourself its just business as you applied a bit of lipstick to your lips. Its just business you think as you rush down the stairs when you see his car pull up in front. Its just business you think as you open the door and see him standing there looking amazing.

“You look exquisite.” He says And a thought sneaks up through the cracks of your mind, ‘its not just business.’

When the two of you arrive at the party, the two of you have a grand time as you mingle with famous people and eat little appetizers on plates. You ignore the drinks and the bar not wanting to get drunk.

“Would you care for a dance?” He asks you. The two of you were sat at a table when a slow song comes on and all the couples rush to the floor.

“I’m afraid to say that I’m not much of a dancer.” You say embarrassed by your lack of skill.

“Im sure we can remedy that with some practice.” He smiles, taking your hand and leading you away. And you cant help but follow entranced by the way he guides you and holds you gently. The music is lovely and awfully romantic. You look everywhere else but his eyes. Knowing that you’d just end up lost within them. You watch the couples dancing, wondering which ones were in love or not. You stumble a bit as you attempt to not step on his toes. You do a good job at following his lead although you’re incredibly stiff.

“Hey, are you okay?” Thomas voice breaks you from your thoughts. You lock eyes a time seems to stop. For a moment you think he’s gonna kiss you.

He continues speaking, “C’mon lets get out of here.”

The two of you head back to tommys, the silence comfortable. Though you didn’t have anything to drink, you feel drunk off his presence. You wish now that you have talked to Trinity or Ada about your conflicting feelings because at this moment as you sit down again on his couch you had no idea how to act.

“So Epsom…are you ready?” He says

“As ready as ill ever be.”

“You’ll be there right?”

“Of course. I said I would.”

Another smile falls on to his face as he moves to his vinyl, playing a record that was on it. He holds hi hand out again like at the party.

“What are you doing?” You ask

“Asking to dance, do you not want the practice.”

You smirk and grab his hand. He pulls you in closer than before. His hand resting on your hip and his other hand intertwined with your hand. Again you try to look away from him but then fingers guide your chin to his eyes.

“Keep your eyes on me.” He says.

And you do. And for a moment you feel this gravitational pull. You see him lean forward; you close your eyes. And then…

RING the phone rings terribly through the apartment,

“Fuck,” he mutters the edge of his lips barely brushing over yours, he leans back, “stay right here.” He leaves to pick up the phone.

You take a deep shaky breath as he leave you standing by yourself. You hear him pick up the phone and quietly talk into the receiver end of it. You sit down on the couch replaying what just happened in your head. Your heart beats fast against your skin and you know no doubt that your flustered as can be. You sit to catch your breath and hopefully steady your beating heart.

Two small knocks on the door. You think to get Tommy but he sounds aggravated you decide to not bother him. You open the door yourself revealing a beautiful blond woman. You blink confused of what she could want, she looks at you equally confused.

“Hi is tommy here,” her Irish accent is clear as day, “You know what never mind that I just need to get something real quick.”

She pushes pass you and goes immediately to the couch digging her hand through the cushions. She pulls out a ring and sighs in relief.

“Imagine going home without this.” She says to you.

“Im sorry I-“ You finally find the words to speak but she interrupts you.

“Its okay he probably didn’t tell you. Im grace. I was here a couple hours ago. he’s always been one to move on fast.” She says with a tone of disapproval as she looks up and down at you.

“Did you meet Chaplin? Hes one of my favorite actors.” Grace continues.

You feel scrutinized under her gaze. She walks past you with a smile. She knows her words cut you deep even if you don’t show it.

“Tell Tommy I said bye. Enjoy your time.” And then she’s gone.

You stand in the same spot by the door. You finally met grace. The one he was with a year ago. The one he named his horse after, the one he kept unopened letters, the one he didn’t like talking about. She was here and she was beautiful. Were you just a second choice for him? And easy get since he couldn’t have what he wanted?

“(y/n) why are you standing by the door?” you hear tommys voice from behind you.

“I think I should go home,” Before he can ask why, you answer that question, “Grace came by.”

“(y/n)..”

“No this is good before we do something stupid, right?” You say trying to laugh it off, though on the inside your hurting.

“Lets talk about this..”

“Mr. Shelby we’re both drunk and not thinking clearly”

“You haven’t been drinking all night and I’m as sober as I’ve ever been.”

You shake your head, “Why did you bring me out tonight? Was it cause she said no?”

“I-I” For the first time Thomas Shelby was at a loss for words.

You sigh, “Ill see you at Epsom, Mr.Shelby”

And then you left.

Read pt.13

Tags

@babylooneytoonz @captivatedbycillianmurphy @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @evelyn-4034 @ms-dont-care @owenniasstars @shikin83 @lauren-raines-x

#tommy shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #Saved by the devil fic #fanfic

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monsterywriting · 3 years

Text

Thenerius - pt 3

Masterlist

Word count: 4,581

AN: so i gave up on making this just 3 parts lol. will probably finish up in the next part. maybe. the last couple parts i posted weren’t showing up in the tags initially so fingers crossed this one does on the first try.

Alfore was nearly devoid of all life as your odd pair rode into town, the cold driving most residents indoors to the warmth of their hearths. Besides the occasional resident outside running errands and icebreaker ship crew, the streets were largely empty.

You were frankly jealous, your knitted wool coat thin with overuse and doing little to protect you from the cutting wind. However, the largest source of unease for you was the stares following you, only able to catch the subtlest hints of movement in windows whenever you would whip your head around to look.

It took you a minute to figure out why, but the reason was obvious once you thought about it.

Thenerius still led the way, a few feet in front of you despite the fact that he had no idea where you were headed. Even in a city filled with all kinds, purple skin and twisting horns stood out, and it was evident to anyone who caught a glimpse of his clothing what the nature of his occupation was.

Pirates weren’t rare in Alfore, but really only venturing here in the warmer months. There were hardly any normal sailors this time of year, much less the more criminal ones. And, despite their frequent visits to the port, pirates were by no means a welcome sight to the residents.

The city council had even imposed alcohol bans within city limits to try and discourage them from stopping here, the only reason The Deep was able to turn a profit as the port was a necessary stop for trade between the eastern and western hemispheres and too far away from any major kingdom for adequate protection, making for prime pickings for pillaging.

So of course Thenerius would be stared at, most average people resenting his presence. It made you antsy, paranoid someone would grow brave and decide to confront the lone pirate and his companion - you. But even as you feel nervous, Thenerius seems unfazed by the glares, sitting tall while on horseback.

“We’re turning here,” you scowl as your voice waivers, uncertain, as you try and get Thenerius’ attention.

You turned Horse down a narrow side road, now in front as Thenerius was forced to turn his own horse around.

“Where exactly are we going?” Thenerius asked after an innumerable amount of turns in the maze-like structure of the city, the sound of the water of the bay now audible with how close you were to the water.

“I am going to the doctor’s office to buy medicine for my mother,” you say, keeping your eyes trained on the street signs as you navigate.

“What, exactly, does your mother have?” Thenerius asks, his voice careful, though you’d been expecting the inevitable line of questioning.

“She fell ill with an unknown sickness a few years back,” you say, unable to maintain the usual bite in your tone you had for Thenerius when you thought back to those uncertain times, “Mr. Thistle wrote to me that it seemed I should prepare for a funeral, she had gotten that bad. They had to bring her to Alfore for treatment The doctors weren’t sure what it was, just that it wasn’t the consumption.

“By the time I arrived from the capital, she had recovered somewhat and insisted on going back home. The doctors couldn’t stop her, and they said it was just a matter of her body fighting it off, so she went back,” you finished, wincing once you realized just how much you revealed.

You hadn’t intended to say more than she was sick, but it had been like a dam had broke once you started speaking.

It felt… cathartic. To talk about what had happened. You couldn’t talk to your mother about it - it inevitably devolved into arguing about selling the cottage to move to Alfore. And though Mr. Thistle insisted that you could always come to him with any trouble, having a heart to heart with your prickly halfling godfather about how sick your mother and his best friend of decades was, was about as appealing as it seemed.

“What does the doctors say now?” Thenerius asked, seemingly unaffected by your rambled speech.

“I’ve been saving up for one to make a home visit, but it’s been almost a year since he last saw her.” You think back to how bewildered the doctor had been when he came to check on your mother after so long the last time and her condition hadn’t improved.

You find yourself glancing at Thenerius through your periphery. He was staring right at you. You quickly look away, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes.

“Actually, I’ve finally earned enough for the final payment, so I’ll also be giving him that today.” A small lie of omission. You would be able to make that final payment, as well as the next month’s supply of pills, but there wouldn’t be much leftover until you go back to work, and even then with only your base salary to last you the winter as the cold kept even more travelers from crossing its threshold, much less tipping ones.

Miraculously, Thenerius didn’t push the matter further. You’re grateful, finding that mulling over every answer to avoid oversharing exhausting. You find that word beginning to describe your state of being more and more lately.

The doctor’s office is a small storefront in a larger building, nestled in between a tavern and barber’s facing the choppy water of the bay, only a single cobblestone separating it from the drop-off.

After hopping off Horse and tying him to a post outside, you step inside. The doctor had no receptionist, so it was just a matter of being able to find him amongst the clutter of medical devices and books everywhere.

“It’s been a long time, child,” the doctor’s wizened face appeared from what you now realized was a desk underneath the mess, nearly giving you a heart attack, “Good news, I hope?”

“I have the final payment,” you smile, but it’s forced and awkward as you desperately wished you had good news to share. You give up on the smile and pull out your coin purse to hand over to him, “it’s all in there.”

“How is your mother?” He asks as he waves you into his office, clearing out a small section on his desk and flipping through papers until he somehow finds one particular one. He pulls out a pair of spectacles from his pocket, looking at the paper, shaking his head before putting it back and flips some more. He then begins the arduous process of counting your gold.

Dr. Inderpahl was old as dirt, to put it mildly. He was the doctor who delivered you and your mother before you. You’d believe it if someone told you he had some magical blood in him, keeping him alive much longer than a normal human. Though his body was ancient and senescent, and he hadn’t been able to perform a surgery in years as his hands had become gnarled with rheumatism, his mind was still sharp as a tack. So, though he counted every coin painfully slowly, he made no mistakes that would have further set back his progress.

“Yes, it’s all here,” he muses, crossing something off on the paper. At some point, Thenerius had found the two of you in the back room and both of you now stared expectantly at the doctor still scribbling away, “Okay. I’ll be seeing her in the spring.”

The relief you had been feeling burned away, your eyebrows furrowing as your mind refused to process what he said.

“What? No, Dr. Inderpahl, she needs a checkup as soon as possible. The payments- you said it was enough to close your practice for the day!”

“I’m sorry, child, but I’m afraid I’m unable to travel in the cold. I’m much older than I used to be, you know,” he said, struggling to rise from his seat in one go as though to prove his point, “and your mother’s condition remained largely the same the last time I went, correct? I’m afraid a house visit will have to wait.”

Your eyes sting, but you quickly grit your teeth and stand, nodding. With a trembling lip and small voice, you give a small “ok, thank you” and turn to leave.

Thenerius was leaning against the doorframe, his lip curled in disgust as he watched the doctor. He pushed off the wall, taking a step towards the oblivious old man futilely straightening a stack of papers. Sensing the danger in the look in his eye, his expression twisting into that familiar anger you’d only ever seen the one time before, you jump into action.

“I also need the medicine for the next month,” you say, stepping in front of Thenerius and stretching both hands back to keep him from moving forward. You do not want Dr. Inderpahl to be scared off before he can get you your mother’s medication - or worse, become unwilling to go out to your cottage to check on her, even if months later. Thenerius fortunately seems to get the hint, tense behind you but stilling.

“Of course,” Inderpahl muttered, finally noticing the pirate for the first time and eyeing him disapprovingly.

You pray he doesn’t ask about him, your mind already trying to think up an excuse as to why a pirate would be with you that wouldn’t come across as an intimidation tactic. You could say he was a stranger, but Thenerius may argue that assessment and that would look suspicious. Friend was too vague, partner may be taken as romantic which… with Thenerius right there, you refused to say.

Your whirring mind slows as Inderpahl finally looks away without a word, walking around the tiefling with no fear and back into the storefront, a large row of bookcases pushed against the far wall repurposed to hold various ingredients for medications.

Thenerius still doesn’t move, and you realize you’re gripping his sides tightly. You immediately drop your hands back to your side and step forward to put distance between you.

“Please, don’t do anything,” you hiss, about to follow after the doctor before Thenerius grabs your arm just above your elbow.

“He’s scamming you,” Thenerius seethed, “How much gold have you paid him so far? I can’t believe you’re going along-”

You break his hold on you, immediately rounding on the tiefling. You struggle to keep your voice low, but the outrage is evident, “He has helped my family for decades. He is the only doctor we can afford and the only one willing to even go all the way out to see her. You absolutely cannot ruin this by scaring him off or- or worse!”

When Inderpahl returned with an envelope of pills, you were afraid Thenerius would ignore your plea, but he fortunately kept his mouth shut. His expression, however, was a different story, glaring daggers at Inderpahl.

You thanked the doctor as you took the pills, elbowing Thenerius’ side to get him to move to the door.

He allows himself to be ushered by you out the door, though he lets the tips of his horns scrape the top of the doorframe (or you may not have given him enough time to duck completely). Either way, you make it outside with no bridges burned and everything you needed to do done.

“I suppose the apple does not fall far from the tree. If you’re anything like your parents, I’ll be seeing you two soon,” Inderpahl bids you farewell from the entrance.

You freeze, the meaning of the doctor’s words sinking in. It wasn’t malicious, and as you turned around the old man was smiling at you from the doorway.

Nodding dumbly - unsure of what else to say and hoping Thenerius didn’t ask questions - you shove Thenerius towards your waiting horses.

“What did he mean, like your parents?”

You suppose a nice, silent ride it was too much to ask of Thenerius. And, if it meant he could learn something so personal about you as your lineage, you held no doubt that he would jump at the chance. But, it had miraculously taken him until you reached the inner limits of Alfore to ask his question - a whole ten minutes, during which you lost track of his many attempts to speak up beforehand.

Not once had you ever affirmed aloud who the man was, first because everyone in your life already knew - more than you, in fact - and then because no one in your life knew. Once you went to the capital, everyone you met came from wealthy families, their fathers nobles and doctors and the like.

You weren’t necessarily jealous of that - you didn’t miss a man you never met. As far as you were concerned, you had no father. You were, however, upset at what his abandonment did to your mother. How she constantly worked, spreading herself so thin to provide for the two of you, to try and give you a better life while he was off fucking around at sea. Most of all, how she still loved him despite all that, refused to curse him for the scoundrel he was for leaving her.

Realizing Thenerius was still waiting on your response, you cleared your throat.

“My mother also used to work at The Deep and…” you trail off, the words feeling foreign and heavy sitting on your tongue, “My father was a pirate.”

“Was?” Thenerius asks, “What does he do now?”

You shrug, the edges of your mouth twisting downward, “Wouldn’t know. Never knew him.”

Thenerius is silent for a long time, seemingly sensing your souring mood but clearly wanting to say something.

“Your friend, at the tavern. She truly is worried about you,” Thenerius thankfully changes the subject, though not to one you feel like talking about any more than the topic of your parentage.

You sneak a peak over your shoulder at him, confused at the sudden change of subject. He’s staring at a spot on the back of his horse’s head, seemingly mulling over what he wanted to say.

“She says- you never accept anyone’s help, would rather say everything is fine and do things on your own. She asked me to check on you, even gave me your pay to give to you. She said they were all worried you’d ‘off yourself,’ I think it was. Not that day, just in general you… offing yourself.”

Putting aside the tiefling’s apparent penchant for exact quotes, as well as any mention of doing yourself in, you instead focus on the important bit of information shared in that entire rant.

“That was my gold?” You ask, pulling Horse’s reins to slow him down until you were riding next to Thenerius.

“Oh, yes, here,” he said, feeling up his coat, pulling out the small pouch and handing it over to you.

You glance down at it briefly, noting the small embroidered frog leaping off of a lily pad before stuffing it into your bodice, your brassiere holding it in place. You ignore Thenerius’ lingering stare.

“My offer still stands,” Thenerius finally spoke again and you wished he hadn’t.

“What offer?” You feign disinterest, hoping he’ll drop the subject but knowing better.

“Let me help around your farm. I’ll stay at The Deep but… just let me help you.”

You blink, your rapid-fire retort to a different response dying in your throat. You hadn’t been expecting that. You thought for sure he’d bring up the proposal again, using your obviously dire financial situation as incentive to marry him at least for convenience. You’re not sure what to say and the silence is only extending, threatening to seem as though you can’t turn down his offer.

“I can’t afford to pay you for that,” you finally manage before quickly adding, “and I won’t let you work for free. I’m not going to take advantage like that.”

You leave your final statement vague, but the point is clear. You don’t want to take advantage of his feelings for you, obviously much deeper than the initial infatuation you believed it to be. No matter how badly you may need the extra set of hands around the homestead, you simply could not bring yourself to agree to such a one-sided agreement, unable to give Thenerius what he truly wants. You almost wish it was the fleeting nightly obsession of drunken pirate, vanishing with the onset of the inevitable hangover and gone with the morning dew, dried out by the light of day.

Fortunately, Thenerius seems to recognize the finality of your decision and makes no further argument, following you wordlessly.

Rather than head straight back out of Alfore, you make a detour towards the market in the heart of the city, a block lined with stalls and shops in the old town square.

As you approach the center of Alfore, the city also grows more lively as people run their daily errands. Once the streets become crowded with stalls and people walking between them, you dismount from Horse and tie him to a post, trusting his surly attitude and the crowd to keep any would-be horse thieves at bay. Once you were certain he was secure, you grabbed the empty satchel hanging from the saddle and throw it over your shoulder.

“I’m going to go pick up an order,” you turn to Thenerius, holding up a hand to stop him from following you, “Alone. No pirates allowed.”

“But-” Thenerius began to protest, but you shook your head firmly.

“Her business, her rules. And you don’t exactly have the best disguise,” you gesture to the tiefling’s clothing, the most obvious pirate garb even a child would recognize and was already earning both of you a few stares, “Go… look around or something. Keep an eye on the horses. I’ll be done soon.”

With that, you leave Thenerius behind and head to the blacksmith’s.

Unfortunately, when you reach the street of your destination, there’s several crowds converging around it. Nearby stalls selling firewood and thick fabrics and pelts for winter clothing were of course at their busiest, and flanking the one place you needed to go.

With great difficulty and several sour looks directed your way when you squeezed in between people in lines, you finally reach the entrance of the small stone structure. As though to further mock your misfortune, a small piece of paper stuck in between two pieces of the wood making up the front door.

Of course the blacksmith would be away making a delivery when you arrive, you think with a brief flash of bitter annoyance, sitting on the step as you wait for her return.

By the time she does, the crowd on the street has largely dispersed, the stalls nearly completely sold out of their wares, and you were on the verge of freezing to death.

“You finally came by to pick up your order,” Yagiri said, sweeping you aside to unlock the forge door.

Yagiri was a half-gnome. Well-suited for the heat of the forge though perhaps not for the nippy winter air, evidenced by the sheer quantity of layers she’d wrapped herself in, looking more like a textile merchant’s inventory come alive.

“Yes, I’m sorry I’m so late,” you answer sheepishly, following her into the forge.

“I’d tell you I was going to sell everything off to the next customer who wanted them, but truthfully no one’s building anything this time of year,” she called out, pulling small boxes of iron bits onto her workstation, “Is there a particular reason you finally decided to come by?”

“Finally have time to use everything,” You reply, waiting awkwardly as she counted forty small nails, various hinges and pieces of wire mesh. Not entirely a lie. You have a week before your next shift, but you had plenty of opportunities to come down and at least pick up the order.

You apologize again as Yagiri hands your items to you, placing everything in your satchel and take care while rolling up the meshes.

Yagiri walks you to the door, both of you freezing as you step around her to see Thenerius standing across the street with both horses, dressed in more simple clothes and a wolfskin coat.

“He with you?” Yagiri grunts suspiciously and you wish you could deny it before Thenerius grins and waves at you, calling out your name.

“Yes, thanks again,” you murmur, quickly exiting the blacksmith’s and tugging Thenerius away from Yagiri’s watchful eye.

“I bought regular clothes,” Thenerius said proudly, showing off his new outfit to you.

You were definitely wrong. It wasn’t so much the clothing that made the pirate, but his overall demeanor; too carefree and wild to be anything else.

“I also got you one, too,” Thenerius held up another pelt coat, this one appearing to be from a bear based on the sheer size of it.

You balk, tempted to throw it on over your own but not wanting to encourage Thenerius’ affections, and there was no way you could pay him for it. Pelts were worth two months of your wages at The Deep. You had no idea how much a finished coat would be.

“I can’t pay you back-”

Thenerius grabs your arm before you can continue walking, “I have to insist. You’re going to get sick if you don’t wear something thicker, and then how will you work?”

You can’t argue with his logic, but can’t help but stiffen as he throws the coat over your shoulders and begins to tie it off down the front. As soon as he finishes, you step away and slither your arms through the sleeves.

“Better?” Thenerius chuckles, you practically swimming in the coat, “give me your bag, keep your hands in the pocket.”

You’re no longer shivering, so used to it at this point that you no longer noticed you it was so bad until you were finally able to stop and your muscles slightly sore where they’d been overworked.

You nod, silently handing over the satchel still clutched in your hand so you can stick your hands in the felt-lined pockets of the coat. With that, you lead the way through the labyrinthine streets to the section of vendors selling live creatures. You take your time looking at each vendor’s wares, smiling at the cute animals until you come across a stall with what you’re looking for.

You smile at the old woman manning the stall and her granddaughter sitting a short ways behind her, both snuggled comfortably in rabbit pelts, before turning your attention to the rabbits curled together in their cages.

“How much for the spotted buck and three solid does?” You ask, pointing out the each rabbit you’re referring to in their respective enclosures.

The old woman grins toothlessly back, holding up three fingers, “three silver pieces.”

You hesitate, not sure you’d have enough to take all four home today. You grab your coin purse from a pocket of your satchel and dig around for any silver, finding two and starting to count up the equivalent bronze when the old woman suddenly clucks a “thank you, sir.”

You look up in surprise to see Thenerius retracting his hand, the silver pieces disappearing into a pocket of her coat before you can even protest. You don’t know where where Thenerius was keeping his coins, much less how much he had. She picks up an empty cage and begins gathering your picks, each easily curling up into the crook of her arm when she grabs them.

“The gray one’s already pregnant. Two weeks left,” she whispers, winking at you as she hands the full cage over, continuing loud enough for Thenerius to hear, “Good luck for you and your husband.”

Your smile strains to remain plastered on your face, merely nodding in thanks so as to not cause a scene. You already feel the heat rising in your face, refusing to meet Thenerius’ gaze as you walk away from the market despite how deeply you could feel it boring into you.

The ride out of Alfore was mostly silent, you lost in thought and playing absentmindedly with one of the ties of your coat.

You think back to what Yagiri asked you. Why you were picking up your order now when it had been ready for weeks now. You had already made your decision, one you had spent the entire afternoon thinking about but was now unsure how to bring the topic up again.

“What did you buy from the blacksmith?” The question sounds nonchalant, but when you look over, Thenerius looks concerned as he looks at the satchel. You suppose Thenerius wouldn’t be very familiar with a blacksmith’s more mundane talents in metallurgy.

“Some things to build a hutch,” you reply, looking away.

“You’re building a hutch?” Thenerius asks incredulously.

“No, you are.” Is your brilliant retort, and you hope your burning face isn’t noticeable from where Thenerius is.

“I am?” It isn’t teasing, or negative, but actually sounds… hopeful. It’s almost enough to make you backpedal, tell Thenerius nevermind or that you somehow misspoke.

“I still can’t afford to pay you,” you say instead, swallowing a lump in your throat you think is your pride, “But you will be compensated with room and board.”

“Yes,” Thenerius agreed immediately, his mood obviously perking up, “but I’m going to pay rent.”

You are on the verge of arguing but soon think the better of it, “Twenty gold a month.”

Thenerius scoffs, “Why so low?”

“It’s five gold less than the rate at The Deep,” you shoot back, “or were you lying when you said you couldn’t afford a room there?”

“Yes, I did,” Thenerius admits immediately, surprising you with his shameless.

You feel the amusement begin to bubble up and before you can stop it, what you thought would be a small snort comes out an uncontrollable peal of laughter.

You bend forward, body shaking with the force of it, threatening to fall right off your horse’s back had you not had your feet securely in the stirrups.

Once you’re finally able to compose yourself with only the aftershocks of your giggling managing to escape, you realize Thenerius is beaming over at you.

“You’re still paying twenty,” you fail to put in the sternness you wanted in the words, to out of breath to sound firm.

Either way, Thenerius would no doubt change his tune about paying the extra gold after a few days of the work you planned to put him through. There was plenty of work you’d been holding off on doing yourself around the homestead, having planned on waiting until the weather warmed.

“Alright,” Thenerius agreed dreamily, or so you determine, a small kernel of gratification germinating within you at the thought of your ability to turn a sea-hardened pirate into a lovestruck fool.

Residual mirth, you tell yourself, forcing yourself to not read so deeply into things. Perhaps it was unwise - stupid, even - to invite the tiefling whose ultimate goal was your heart into your home for an indefinite stretch of time, but as you continued riding down the path, the sun finally making its presence known and still buzzing with your good mood, you can’t help but drown out your objections.

Besides, after a week you’d be occupied at the tavern and your daily interactions would undoubtedly be limited to the mornings when you returned from work.

part 4

#monster boyfriend #tiefling #exophilia #reader insert

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wixelt · 3 years

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Season β AU #002 - Welcome to β

So when we last left off on the Season β AU, the Hermits had been kidnapped by shadow doubles of themselves & dropped into an unknowable reality made up of an infinite blue jungle under an empty, Void-like sky. So, what’s next from there in the weird dream I had?

Well, from here, things get a little less ordered, but i’ll set it up as best I can.

- All the Hermits wake alone, with no-one else nearby, something i’m certain my unawake mind drew from @hermitcraftheadcanons’ Scattered AU (check it out if you haven’t, it’s great). I can tell from this that my dream originally intended this to be an alt version of Season 7 - though it isn’t now - as one of the “arriving alone” bits was Scar turning up in the jungle, as he does at the start of S7 (was in full wizard gear in my dream, to boot :P ). I want to play with the most recent info on S7, though, so post-S7 it is instead.

- There’s a few things various Hermits find odd or outright alarming beyond just what they can see after doing the normal “player” thing of crafting some basic tools to survive to take their mind off the panic. X discovers his admin powers are completely gone. They’re not even inaccessible, they’re just... not there. Anyone else who has command access notices this quite quickly too, & nobody misses the complete lack of access to communications.

- And all of the Hermits, beyond this, find that mining & crafting is broken somehow. Mumbo swings his fist to punch a tree, & cries out in pain, the wood far harder than even his practiced hands were ready for. It’s nothing more than a sting, & he’s fine once he’s gotten used to it, but it came as a shock, & rather than getting a log block for his troubles, he watches the section of tree, on his final punch, explode into a million useless splinters of wood, only a few large enough to put in his inventory. After a while, the Hermits begin to find that, with enough of these fragments, they can build a rudimentary sword (False manages this faster than most others), or a pick, or some planks, but it makes everything far more of a slog, as if the world is fundamentally dragging them down.

- In the months to follow - in the part of this that reminds me of Sky Factory - they will find that stone has the same problem, but worse. Stone drops... nothing. Absolutely nothing. Same with anything else underground, which would be bad for ore mining... if there were any ores to mine. Instead, through much trial & error, the Hermits find that crafting enough layers, combinations & types of wood & dirt together (in my dream I saw someone crafting thousands of Rubies together to get something - so I guess Rubies also exist here) - like those mods that have compressed blocks - gets you stone, & magnitudes more effort beyond that to get iron, gold, redstone, etc. Magnitudes further still to get even a single, tiny fragment of diamond, & then there’s netherite, & the other top tier, heavy duty materials & tools Minecraft has.

- By a year into this hell, the Hermits collectively have maybe enough diamond for less than half a set of armor between them, & no netherite to speak of. It hasn’t exactly been their main focus, though.

- With that initial panic out of the way, maybe it’s time to introduce you to where the Hermits are. This is Season β. That isn’t it’s actual name, if it even has one, but as far as the Hermits’ season system works, it’ll suit it well enough. It’s a sort of underlying junk/echo reality (in the part of the dream that was probably drawn from the Backrooms creepy-pasta) that runs beneath the entire Minecraft multiverse. All the echoes of worlds, all the little bits of lost history or forgotten places that never should have been or that simply slipped through the cracks... this is what β is. The place where all these various never weres have coalesced into an infinite, broken place where the usual rules of the Minecraft realms don’t consistently apply... and the Hermits are stuck here.

- β isn’t entirely this infinite, headache inducing blue jungle. This is just one layer of the dark infinity. There’s at least 11 layers, though I imagine there’s actually infinite or functionally infinite amounts. In my dream, I remember there was mentioned a 6th Layer, a 10th Layer, and I think an 11th Layer. I recall that one layer, I think the 10th Layer, was gradually “eating” away at another layer despite them being supposedly infinite, probably the 11th, in my dream, so in order to have the Hermits not immediately have to deal with that metaphysical clusterfrick, i’m stating now that the “Jungle” is the 6th Layer. How the Hermits are meant to get from layer to layer, or if they’d even want to, is undetermined.

- This endless hell is, well, just that: hell. And nothing shows that more than when a Hermit dies for the first time. It’s False who’s the unfortunate one. Being one of the most resourceful of the group, she manages to craft a stone sword within the first few weeks, sets up some basic shelter, & even manages to reunite with a couple of the other Hermits after days of trekking for miles & miles at a time, herself Ren & Stress managing to build a perimeter to keep out the mobs, which have thankfully been both keeping to their normal behaviors despite a few anomalies & been spawning in lesser numbers due to the jungle biome & copious amounts of leaves.

- So when a creeper unfortunately gets the drop of her in the midst of an unexpected mob horde - glowing with red lightning, of all things - and all the Hermits see her death message, it comes as a shock. Thankfully, she had a bed, so she dashes back to where Ren & Stress are waiting... & blinks in surprise as their eyes widen in shock & horror. Unnerved, False catches her reflection in a nearby pool of water... & flinches in fear as she sees the empty socket where her right eye used to be, as if it simply vanished. She can still mostly see fine, somehow, but her right eye’s “vision” is strange and hazy, with occasional flickering, & she swears she keeps seeing something moving in the corner of her eye, despite Ren & Stress assuring her there’s nothing there. And that’s not even getting into the strange, single black tally line that she later finds has appeared on her left shoulder like some sort of tattoo...

- This, unfortunately, isn’t the extent or even the specific outcome that awaits someone each time they die. It has the potential to get quite... odd. False got off quite lightly the first time losing an “eye”, all things considered.

- It is over a year before Grian - who was left behind from the party due to illness - sees any of his friends again. Through a means I haven’t yet decided on, he finds some manner of reaching β, albeit one-way & by accident, while searching for everyone with assistance from others. What he finds, though still his friends & relieved to see him, isn’t as pristine as he remembers. Time in β has not been kind.

- And I've decided it is Grian who gets left behind, rather than Jevin. I had this thought that maybe my dream “labelled” it as Grian but meant Jevin because in one part of the dream Grian appears “slimy” & face paint seems to melt right off him due to that (was an odd moment even with context). But given what β can do to people, apparently, i’m willing to lock the one left behind in as Grian.

Cutting it off again. Still a few things I haven’t gotten into, I think, but this is already a long post. :P

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #hermitcraft au #hc season β au #goodtimewithscar #xisumavoid #mumbojumbo #falsesymmetry #stressmonster101 #rendog #grian #ijevin

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abigailadams1788 · 4 years

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Humans are Space Orcs: DON’T EAT THAT!!

So I’ve been obsessed with the whole “Humans Are Space Orcs” thing for a while but I haven’t had an idea to add to it until tonight. I don’t know if this has been done before but here’s what happened: I was texting my brother and he mentioned watching this video of a guy who was eating his leftovers in the styrofoam to-go container. Like, eating it styrofoam and all.

You’re probably like “You idiot don’t eat that!” and my next thought was “What if an alien reacted to that?”

Cause here’s the thing: we’ve all seen the posts of humans eating anything. We consume caffeine by the gallon in the mornings just to stay awake. We eat chocolate by the pound cause it tastes good and lifts our mood (don’t act like you didn’t gorge on that chocolate pie/cake at Thanksgiving. We all know you snuck that third piece when no one was looking.) We consume fruits that have cyanide-filled seeds. Hell pineapple is toxic if it’s unripe but we put it on pizza and salads anyways. It’ll burn our tongue anyways but we still eat it.

So naturally, aliens are in this mode of “Humans can eat just about anything. They come from this major Deathworld; why wouldn’t they eat everything? They already said “Fuck you” to the natural order of predation. Might as well have an appetite to facilitate that.” So just imagine this:

Xa’var shuffled into the mess hall after a long what xis human counterparts would say day. Xa’var had been up since the first shift and was just now getting something to eat. It wasn’t easy, being the liaison for xis’ council and the humans, but it was a job Xa’var took pride in.

Laughter caught Xa’var’s attention. The humans that xe had come to consider friends were hunched over a holo-device, laughing at whatever they were watching. Curiosity arose in Xa’var’s mind. It was always a fortuitous occasion to learn more about xis’ counterparts. It could even be a new report to make to add to the “How To Deal With Humans 101″ handbook. Xa’var used xis main tentacles to walk over to the humans’ table.

“Hello, Human Rachel. Hello, Human Todd. Might I inquire as to what it is you are watching?”

“Oh, Xa’var! Didn’t see you come in.” Rachel bared- smiled- there were still many things to get used to about the behaviors of humans- at xim and moved over so Xa’var could lean down comfortably. “Todd was showing me this video of this idiot eating his leftovers with his to-go box.”

Xa’var leaned down and focused one of his eyes on the holo-device while the other watched the reactions of the humans. On the screen, one human male was eating a white contraption that appeared to have rations in it. Other humans were telling him to cease the action, but he seemed to not believe them. Todd and Rachel seemed to be very amused, though the humor was lost on Xa’var.

“I am confused.” Todd wiped his eyes- note to add to the handbook: humans cry when laughing.- and looked up at Xa’var. “What is the human doing wrong?”

“Dude.” Rachel snorted, seemingly trying to not laugh. “You don’t eat styrofoam. Everyone knows that.”

Xa’var was astounded. He had believed that humans could eat anything.

Xa’var remembered when someone had accidentally spilled another’s ration on xim. The result was an extended stay in the medical wing because the acids in the foods had almost burned through xis carapace.

When Human Rachel came to check on xim and asked to see the rations, they were brought in for her inspection. To Xa’var’s horror, after smelling the rations, Rachel had taken a rather large helping and eaten it.

Instead of immediately convulsing and screaming in pain, as what had happened with Xa’var, Rachel simply moved her shoulders in a movement that Xa’var recognized as a shrug and said: “Could’ve used a little more spice.” When Xa’var had inquired as to how she could handle the acidity of the food, she had laughed and commented that her mother- the human term for egg-layer, since apparently humans weren’t hatched- used to make something called a curry that burned when one ate it. Xa’var had made a note that night to his council to avoid the human food known as curry at all costs.

“You... you mean humans can’t eat everything?” Xa’var knew it was not the most tactful approach, but the fact that the man was being seen as an apparent imbecile for eating his food container seemed to Xa’var to be a type of prank. Surely they weren’t serious about it?

Both Human Rachel and Human Todd lifted the hair above their eyes- eyebrows, Xa’var mentally corrected- in surprise. “Who told you we could?” Todd asked.

“I...” Xa’var felt xis skin start to flush with embarrassment. “It has been believed for a long time that humans can eat anything.”

“Well...” Human Todd leaned back in his chair. “I mean, we technically can eat anything, but there are things we shouldn’t. Does that make sense?”

“I am afraid it does not. Could you please elaborate?” Hunger temporarily forgotten, Xa’var lowered into a neighboring chair, tucking his tentacles under xis carapace to facilitate a comfortable position; new information was always worth giving one’s full attention.

“So here’s the thing: our stomach contains something called hydrochloric acid, which is largely responsible for breaking down everything we eat and converting it into energy, basic nutrients, proteins, you get the idea.” Xa’var nodded along, a habit xe picked up from xis human counterparts as a body language that communicates understanding. “Now we humans measure the acidity level of acids on what we call a ph scale. It runs 1 to 14. 7 is neutral, with numbers above it being alkaline in nature and numbers below 7 running acidic. The lower the number it is, the more acidic it is. 6 is more acidic than 7, 5 more than 6, and so on.”

“I see, I see.” Xa’var nodded again, enraptured now. Xe had been educated on the different scales humans use to measure things, so xe knew what a ph scale. Though, for xis people, 7 was actually capable of causing severe burns. A 4 could sear through a warrior’s carapace with ease, while anything less than a 3 was guaranteed death.

“So where does a human’s acid level fall?” In the back of Xa’var’s second brain, the knowledge that could come from this could be useful in avoiding injury should a human’s internal organs were exposed during a battle. Given a human’s resilience, xe wouldn’t be surprised if that happened at some point and the human continued to fight.

“It depends,” Rachel spoke now. “If someone hasn’t eaten in a while, the acid in their stomach might level out at about a 4, but while they’re eating it’ll go up to a 2 or even a 1.” Xa’var felt xis eyestalks retract slightly in horror. “Lemon juice is typically considered a 2, so if that helps put in perspective.”

“Y-yes. But I am still confused as to what you meant by “shouldn’t eat”.” Xa’var cleared xis throat, trying to not let the rising horror be exposed. Levels out at a 4?!? Rises to a 1 while they were eating!?! A 1 would melt the carapace and internal organs of his people with ease and continue destroying until it was neutralized, but this happened as a natural occurrence within a human’s stomach?? Multiple times a day!?!

“Ah, yeah. Well, I guess it’s kind of like what happened with you a couple weeks ago.” Rachel shrugged, crossing her arms. Xa’var recognized the body language as bored, not hostile. It was a fine nuance, but one xe was proud xe could spot the difference in. “Humans can eat virtually anything cause our stomach is so acidic it will kill virtually any virus or bacteria that enter with our food on contact, with very few exceptions. Even then we can fight through most illnesses and poisonings as long as we keep our immune system up.

“That said, there are some things we just shouldn’t eat because it provides no nutritional value to us. Styrofoam is one of those things. Glass, plastic, rubber, paper,” Rachel shrugged again. “We can eat all of those things, as evidenced by people who do, but we shouldn’t because they don’t provide the nutrition our body needs.”

“So, what you are saying is that, while humans are perfectly capable of consuming anything, but chose to not because of nutrition concerns?” Xa’var felt the inquiry sounded more absurd spoken than it did in xis head. To xis surprise, Human Todd and Human Rachel nodded.

“Pretty much. We can sometimes get what we call “acid reflux”, which is when the acid in our stomach rises into our esophagus. This is caused by allergies or a malfunction of the internal blocker we have to prevent that from happening, but it’s rare. Usually it’s caused when we eat something that doesn’t sit well with us and causes an imbalance in our stomach acid.” Human Todd confirmed.

“And this is not dangerous?”

“Oh no, it definitely can be.” Rachel commented far too nonchalantly for Xa’var’s comfort. “Usually it’s just uncomfortable, but it does burn like a bitch. It’s why we start crying whenever we throw up. Our esophagus doesn’t have the natural lining our stomach does to protect it from the acids, so the acids literally burn away our throat. Some people have burned a hole in their throat because of acid reflux. Most of the time though that can be fixed with a simple dietary change, though some people have to take medicine to help balance out their ph levels.”

Xa’var’s brains were reeling. Not only was the initial belief confirmed (humans can indeed eat anything), but they were capable of doing so because their internal organs contained an acid strong enough to melt his carapace! It could even burn the humans’ own throats but they treated it like it was nothing!

“Are you alright, Xa’var?” Xa’var blinked. Rachel was staring at xim with an expression xe recognized as concern. “You’re white.” Looking down, Xa’var realized xe was indeed white; xis people’s skin changed color based on emotions. Apparently, the horror xe felt was enough to cause xis body to involuntarily react and try to camouflage xim with the surrounding tables and chairs.

“Y-yes. I am fine, Human Rachel.”

“You sure? Have you eaten anything today?”

“I, have not. I will go do so now. Thank you for telling me this information.”

Rachel and Todd watched as Xa’var maneuvered out of the mess. Despite xis words, xe was going the opposite way of the food. “What’s his problem?” Rachel asked.

“I dunno. Maybe a long shift?”

“Maybe.”

Little did they know that Xa’var was heading to xis quarters to not only update the “How To Deal With Humans 101″ manual, xe was also going to send a very important message to his council about the truth of a human’s terrifying ability to eat anything.

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#humans are space orcs #humans can eat anything #humans are weird #humans are space australians #humans are strange #humans are terrifying #humans are the weird ones #thought dump #this came out of nowhere #i like it though

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