#it had also been such a long time since somebody reblogged a work of mine :’) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoodedguitarist · 3 years

Text

Think you can Hide from Me? Part 3

Once again, Gif aint mine I just REALLY LOVE IT. It’s one of my favorite scenes of him.

Pairing: Boba Fett x Reader

Summary: You infiltrated, the plan fell into chaos, Boba is mad at you, you’re catching feels, lots of time skips and some ANGST.

Warnings? None... Really not yet at least. Slight DinxReader if you squint. This just got a lot more feelsy and I got a whole lot more invested in this than I expected to. Which honestly seems to happen a lot to me. NO SHAME.

I really want to thank everyone who has liked, favorited, reblogged, and followed! You’re all amazing and make me feel amazing too. It means a lot to me that everyone is enjoying my writing. My inbox is open and I’ll even make a Tag List if anyone is interested!

Part 1: The Infiltrator

Part 2: The Distraction

Part 4: The Reunion

Part 3: The Regret

You should have known that plan was going to go off the rails. What you didn’t know, however, was that Boba was going to end up being a casualty of it all as well, and by complete accident.

Sure, you’d been caught with the others, sure you’d been sentenced to death with the others… And oh yes Boba was pissed… Very pissed. You didn’t need to see his face to tell that he was because instead of riding in the barge, he was there to personally bind you and hold you on the way to the Sarlaac pit.

Standing next to Han and Luke was going to make this conversation very awkward, but it needed to be said.

“Ok… So you’re mad at me, right?” You said out loud. Both of them glanced over at you, but you felt Boba’s hand tighten around your shoulder and yank you backwards into him. “Ah!”

“Mad is an understatement, sweetheart,” his modulated voice hissed.

“Ok, that’s fair… I’m sorry I lied to you about the whole work thing. Really, I am.”

“Uh… (Y/N)?” Han questioned.

“Stay out of it Han,” you snapped quickly. “You too, Luke. Mind your business, both of you.”

The two backed off and tried their best not to pay attention to whatever you could possibly be talking about with the bounty hunter, someone they considered an enemy.

“Was fucking me a distraction too?” Boba growled. Now the boys were really trying not to pay attention.

“No, actually, that part was real,” you turned your head to look at him over your shoulder. “I was telling the truth when I said I’d wanted to do that ever since I saw you, and still do, if you’ll have me.”

“I think that was your last roll in the sheets, princess. If you manage to make it out of this alive somehow, I’ll know and I’ll find you,” he threatened.

“Hm, sounds fun,” you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning. “If you make it out of this alive, I’ll come back and find you too. Do we have a deal?”

Boba scoffed and you figured he felt pretty confident that this was it and you were going to die some horrible death inside the belly of this beast.

“Deal,” he finally answered.

Han and Luke both cut their eyes over at you and you shrugged. “I told you two to mind your own business.”

~*~

Things had happened so fast. One minute you were about to be shoved into the pit, the next Luke is jumping around doing Jedi stuff and mildly impressing you. You didn’t have time to admire, though, because you were struggling with one of Jabba’s guards while Han and Chewie were getting into it with Boba.

Somehow, you were trying to manage not getting killed but also trying to watch Han’s back because he was still blind, and now Chewie who had been shot… But also Boba because you really didn’t want him dying on you either. It was a weird situation all around.

You struggled with the guard and managed to land a hit, but then a blaster fired out of nowhere and hit him square in the chest, knocking him backwards and into the pit. You were startled and turned to look where the shot came from, and sure enough you saw Boba’s blaster smoking. Your heart jumped into your throat and he simply nodded to you… Until he turned his sights on Luke.

You heard Chewie howl something out, heard Han get jumpy.

“Boba Fett?? Where??” He whipped around and smacked the bounty hunter right in his jetpack, which malfunctioned and sent him flying.

“Han what the hell??” You yelled over the chaos.

“I didn’t know he was right there! I can’t see!” He yelled back. You looked over the railing rather desperately, just in time to see the bounty hunter roll into the Sarlaac pit.

Well… That was a damn shame...

~*~

Five years had passed, and the Empire was defeated. Ghosts and whispers still lingered, but the Rebellion no longer needed you. It was now the New Republic and you didn’t really have any interest in politics. You said your goodbyes to your friends, the true heroes, and went back to being on your own.

You weren’t on your own for long, however, seeing as how you got caught up in chaos with another Mandalorian. This one was different, however. He had a kid with him. You didn’t mind babysitting during the really dangerous stuff but at the same time you sort of missed the chaos. After a while, the kid wanted to be everywhere his dad was so you were able to tag along.

Being with them led you back to Tatooine, to a small place known as Mos Pelgo. You wanted to help Din get the kid back with his own kind and when they spoke of another Mandalorian in Mos Pelgo, you couldn’t help it as your heart jumped and your hopes spiked…

Especially when a ghost appeared in the doorway wearing Boba Fett’s armor.

You tensed beside Din, and he glanced at you briefly.

“Boba…?” You questioned carefully, letting your eyes run down the person in front of you. He was tall, much more thin. There was no way…

“ ‘Fraid not, darlin’,” the ghost answered.

First, you felt the icy cold stab of regret and loss all over again, then you felt the heat of anger bloom in you. Both you and Din were ready to throw down with the Marshal for entirely different reasons.

“Take it off,” Din ordered.

“Or I will,” your voice was a low warning, surprising all parties involved.

“I think I wouldn’t mind that,” the ghost now known as Cobb Vanth smirked at you.

“Yeah you say that now until you’ve got a knife in your back. Where the hell did you get that? And don’t say Jawas. That armor belonged to someone. Someone I knew!” You snapped.

“I don’t know what to tell you, honey. Anything else would be a lie. I did get it from the Jawas.”

A growl slipped your lips and you took a step forward, but Din grabbed you first. In the end, everything worked out in your favor. Cobb gave up the armor in exchange for help against the Dragon that plagued Mos Pelgo. When the two of you and the child were back safely on the Razor Crest, there were several times when Din would catch you gazing at the old armor, running your fingers across it, leaning your head against the empty helm.

He even thought he saw tears…

Finally, one night, he managed to carefully edge the story out of you. It was a little difficult, but you managed well enough.

“It was just supposed to be a fling, you know? No strings attached, just to say I did it. But there was just something about him, something else that drew me to him. I wanted him to live, I tried to protect him but so many things happened that day, and so many things went wrong way too quickly…” Your voice caught in your throat, but you laughed despite yourself. “I ended up catching feelings for this fucking bounty hunter after he supposedly died.”

“It’s possible those feelings grew from guilt,” Din said calmly. “Thank you for telling me and trusting me with this. I’m sorry this is bringing you so much pain.”

“Oh they most definitely grew from guilt, but then when I saw his armor, hope grew. He had to have come out of it. He’s got to be somewhere, I just don’t know where… And I don’t know if he’ll kill me on sight, so you might want to get ready for that too.”

“(Y/N) when are we not almost killed on sight?” There was a hint of amusement to his voice, and it made you smile. “I think we can manage,” he assured you.

“Yeah… Let’s hope…”

~*~

Seeing the armor hit you hard, but being on top of that mountain with Din and Grogu and seeing Slave 1 come out of the atmosphere and into the sky really did a number on you.

“Oh shit… Oh shit…” You muttered.

“What? Who is that?” Din looked over at you.

“I… I don’t know. It used to be Boba’s ship but there’s no damn telling now. I haven’t seen that thing in years. Somebody could have scavenged it or something.”

“Well we need to figure it out, come on,” he waved for you to follow, and you did so, trying your best not to seem too eager.

Unfortunately, that eagerness faded with the blaster fire, and the both of you took cover behind a rock.

“I’ve been tracking you, Mandalorian.”

That voice… It made your heart thunder in your chest. Masked by a modulator or not, you could tell it was him. You tensed and Din noticed. He looked over at you and you looked at him, eyes wide and lips parted. You gave a quick nod.

“It’s him… It’s Boba…”

“So not a Jedi… Great,” he whispered. The both of you eased out from behind the rock and you got your first good look at him. He was dressed in black robes, the hood thrown over his head, weapons strapped to his back.

“Boba??” You couldn’t stop yourself as you called out to him. He reached up and pushed his hood back, revealing a scarred face. It did nothing to deter you, however. He was older, but you were still just as attracted to him as you had been years ago. He stepped forward and moved closer, his eyes never leaving your face. It made you a little nervous. “If you’re going to kill me then ok, just do it, but I want you to know that I’m sorry first,” you said quickly holding your hands up. “I’m sorry for what happened that day.”

“Surprised to see me alive?” It was a simple question. No dark tone or anger.

“Relieved is more like,” you admitted. “I looked for you, for any sign of you after the war was over, but I never found anything. I knew somehow, though. I knew you’d survived, but I didn’t know if you’d want to kill me or not.”

“You know me well enough, girl. If I’d wanted to kill you, I would have done it right after I crawled out of that pit,” his eyes roved down you and you felt that old familiar rush, that feeling of playing with fire again. “It’s good to see you, princess, and we’ll talk later. For now, we need to talk about my armor that your man made off with.”

@pinkiemme @chadillacboseman If you need me I’ll be in the trash compactor thanks.

109 notes · View notes

wicked-mind · 3 years

Text

Remember Me: Chapter Seven

Summary: Y/N and Bucky were the unlikely match when it came to love, but they were inseparable since they met. After a fight, Y/N left to be a trauma surgeon in the military and returns without her memories. How will Bucky remind Y/N how she is the fire in his bones?

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Swearing (I like swearing. Adds character and sounds pretty to me lol), mentions of surgical procedures, car crash, miscarriage, John Walker, slight bit of PTSD.

Series Masterlist

All Writings Masterlist

As always, any likes, reblog, or comments are appreciated (:

*gifs not mine

Previously

Y/N removed her eyes from his face, listening to the story. Her forehead creased a moment as she thought about all that was said before meeting his gaze once again. A small smile curved on her lips and she leaned towards him, kissing his lips softly before pulling away slightly to look at him, “I forgive you, Bucky."

Bucky felt relief flood through him at her words, smiling down to her. He couldn’t find any words to say to her so instead he returned his arms around her body and pulled her closer, kissing her deeply. Those were words Bucky had waited to hear for so long and for a while he didn’t know if he would ever hear them from Y/N. Everything seemed right in the world for now, and even though he was worried about what was written in those journals John had given her due to what Steve had said, he hoped that whatever else it was would be forgiven also.

Truth was, Y/N always had forgiven Bucky for what was said the moment she left. She knew it was from his own fears. But what had broken her heart was hidden in the pages of those journals.

Chapter seven - The truth in the writing

Y/N wasn’t supposed to be back to work until noon, but she got called in early due to an apartment fire that would lead to multiple traumas coming in meaning it was all hands on deck. Bucky watched her pack the yellow folder John had given to her last night into her backpack before taking her to the hospital. He came back to Steve’s to find him and Peggy having some coffee. Bucky grabbed himself a mug of the dark liquid before leaning against the counter, “She took the journals with her.” He said over to Steve.

Peggy narrowed her eyes as they flickered between the two, “What journals?”

Steve sighed, sitting at the dining table next to Peggy, “Y/N’s friend, that blonde guy named John, brought some of her journals that were left behind at her base camp. Says there’s everything in there.” He informed.

“Yeah, including something we don’t know about.” Bucky grumbled out, “Something that made our break-up worse than just the words that were said.” He would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried. He replayed that night so many times in his head that every moment was burned into his brain and he couldn’t think of anything other than what was said before she left, “We gotta figure this out. So I can at least try to make it better after she reads whatever is in there.”

Peggy set her glass mug on the table, “Okay, then let’s walk through it.” She said helpfully, “Y/N came here that night after her shift and showed us the deployment papers with the date for her to leave set in a month, June 7th. She was so excited to tell you that she left immediately after. What happened at your house, James?”

Bucky sighs, setting his mug down on the counter to run a hand through his dark hair, “She came in all excited and jumped into my arms. Everything was fine and then she showed me the papers. We argued about it because I didn’t want her to go. I told her if she walked out those doors I wouldn’t be here waiting for her and not to come back. And then she left.” He flinched at his own words. He hated that he had said that to Y/N.

Steve leans back in his chair, “Then she came back here in tears and frantic. We tried to get her to talk to us about what happened but she just packed her bags, got in her car, and left.” He sighs, “I called her everyday for about four days until she finally picked up and told me she was fine, just needed some space, and she would be back soon. After that, I didn’t hear from her until she was deployed.”

Bucky cocks his head to the side at Steve, narrowing his eyes, “You never told me that.”

Steve scoffs slightly, “Yeah, well, you made my sister run away, we weren’t exactly on the best speaking terms, Buck.”

“So we have no idea where she was or what she was doing for a month before she was deployed?” Peggy interrupted, watching Bucky and Steve shake their heads to say no. She bit her bottom lip for a moment, “Maybe something happened in that month.”

Bucky looked over from Peggy to Steve, “What did she say while she was deployed?” He asks curiously, folding his arms as he leaned against the counter.

Steve looked from Peggy to Bucky, picking up his mug and bringing it to his lips for a drink before setting it back down, “Y/N called me when she got to the base, told me she made it safe and she was sorry she didn’t come back before she left, that she couldn’t come back. I asked her what happened between you two and she told me what was said. I told her you didn’t mean it and to at least give you a call.” He watched Bucky’s features soften for a moment, “There were a few more phone calls. She told me what you said hurt, but that she was okay and there was another reason she couldn’t come home or talk to you. We didn’t really talk about you two after that.”

Bucky groaned slightly. What had happened? The more he thought about it the more the timeline didn’t make sense. Everything had been fine between them the days, even weeks leading up to when she ran away were fine. He sighs looking back to Steve, “I don’t know, man.” He said, “Everything was great. We made cookies together, went on rides, had a Star Wars marathon. Everything was perfect… So perfect in fact I bought a damn engagement ring.”

Steve looked at Bucky with almost fully wide eyes before looking at Peggy who was sipping her coffee avoiding eye contact, “You knew about this, Peggy?”

Peggy put her coffee down, pursing her lips a little before speaking, “Of course I knew! Who do you think had to help him pick out the damn thing?”

Steve nodded and turned his attention back to Bucky, “Wow.” He said still nodding, “Well, now I really wish things would’ve gone differently. She would’ve been so excited.” He said with a small smile towards Bucky. Steve had always trusted Bucky with Y/N. The way he treated her was like a queen.

Bucky’s lips twitched into a small smile for a moment at Steve’s approval before it faded back into a stern line. He was going to ask Steve for help with the proposal when Bucky eventually figured out how to ask, but hadn’t gotten around to it before it all went to shit, “So nobody knows what the reason is…”

Steve nodded slowly, “Well… none of us know. But there is one person who does.”

Bucky groaned a little again and rubs his hand along his face, “God, I really hate John Walker.”

—

Y/N dealt with the wave of incoming traumas from the apartment building fire, running point on sorting patients by the degree of their injuries to create a steady flow in the operating room and emergency room. Once everything had died down, Y/N sat in the attending’s lounge eating a sandwich and starting to go through yellow folder from her backpack. There were photos of Y/N with Bucky and some of her with Steve and Peggy as well of her with John. There were also photos of her while she was deployed mostly doing silly poses in the middle of nowhere. She placed the photos back into the folder and pulled out the two notebooks next. They were leather-bound full sized journals. She opened the first one that looked just a bit more well used, figuring it was the first one. Her brow furrowed when she turned to the first page. It was dated at the top, May 15, 2019 but the rest of the page looked like the words had been gone over with permanent marker. Y/N turned to the next page and the next but for about ten pages over the next ten days from May 15th, all the words had been scribbled over with permanent marker, “Well, that’s just great.” She mutters out to herself softly, “Thanks me. Super helpful.”

Y/N finally found a page with actual words instead of just a page of black marker, the date read May 25th, 2019. It was filled with the words repeating ‘I am not my trauma.’ over and over again until the last line that read:

I’ll forget the piece that was taken away from me.

She frowned a little. What trauma did this refer to? What had happened? She turns the page quickly to read the next page.

May 26th, 2019

I leave in eleven days.

I want more than anything to call him. I don’t know what I would say. How do I explain what happened. Where do I begin?

He told me if I leave to never come back. That he won’t be waiting for me.

A part of me knows that’s a lie. I know he’d be there with open arms if he knew what happened.

I found that ring after all…

Y/N had to read the line over again a few times. Ring? There was a ring?

But how would he feel if he knew how ruined I was?

His sun swallowed into a dark pit.

He loves me. And I don’t think I’m me anymore.

Nobody wants broken things.

May 28th, 2019

I want to feel safe again.

They say writing down what I feel is going to ground me to reality. They also said I should call somebody. I can’t do that. I can’t let them know how much I hurt. I just want to run as far away as possible and that’s what I’ll do. I need to get out of here. It feels like I can’t breathe and everywhere I look I’m met with eyes filled with pity. It makes everything worse the way they look at me and stare. I get released tomorrow, I’m signing out AMA. Then it’s just nine more days. Maybe it’ll replace my trauma with a different trauma. Anything would be better than this.

I miss Bucky. I miss running my fingers through his hair and the way his stubble would brush against my skin. I miss being in his arms the most. They were so safe like nothing could ever hurt me. I wish I would’ve stayed then none of this would’ve happened. We could’ve just fought about it then go to bed and sort it out until I left. At least then I would’ve felt save and would’ve been safe.

I think the worst part about our fight was that I knew about the ring. I found it in his boxer drawer when putting away his laundry. You’d figure he would’ve picked a better hiding spot, but nope. He’s never been good at hiding things from me. I was halfway expecting him to propose when I showed him my deployment papers so we both had something to look forward to when I came back. I would’ve said yes in a heartbeat if he did. After all, James Buchanan Barnes is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. But that’s not what happened. And here I am stuck in pain and guilt.

Y/N shut the book when she heard someone come in, wiping away some tears she hadn’t noticed falling from her cheeks. She looks over and put on her best smile for Chief Miller, “Afternoon, Chief.”

Miller had his hands tucked in his pockets, “Everything okay, Y/N?” He asks gently, nothing the tear brimmed eyes.

Y/N nodded, keeping the same smile on her face, “Yeah, everything’s good. A friend brought me some journals to see if they’ll help me remember. It’s just confusing and a lot to read.” She said softly, “Were you looking for me?”

Miller nodded at her words, “I’m sorry, that must be hard.” He said with a reassuring smile, “I was just getting all your medical records transferred over and one was locked from a hospital in Queens. I just wanted to ask if you wanted to unlock it so we have that information on file in case it’s needed in the future.”

Y/N tilted her head at him, her brow pulling together in confusion, “I don’t remember what the nature of that visit would be… Did it have a date? I can call the doctor from the hospital to get it unlocked if I know the date.”

“May 14th, 2019.” Miller replied, “The doctors name I think was Wanda Maximoff.”

Y/N nodded slowly at the date. It was the day before her journal started with the scribbled out pages. She pushed the journal into her backpack, “Thanks, Chief. I’ll give them a call.” She said with a small smile before standing and leaving the room. She found an empty office with a computer, googling the hospital in Queens and asking for Dr. Maximoff.

“This is Dr. Maximoff.” A woman with an accent said over the phone when Y/N was connected.

“Hi, this is Dr. Rogers from Brooklyn Mercy. I was calling about a locked file in my health records.”

“Oh, Y/N! How have you been? Are you back from deployment?”

“Been better… And yes, I am. I was calling because a medical report of mine from May 14, 2019 is sealed and I don’t remember the nature of the visit. I lost a lot of my memories due to an incident overseas and I’m trying to put pieces together.”

“I see.. I’m so sorry to hear that. Our hospital isn’t too far from Brooklyn Mercy, I think we should talk about this in person given the situation. I’ll drive down and meet you in about forty-five minutes, would that work?”

“That’d be perfect, thank you Dr. Maximoff.” Y/N said before enhancing goodbyes and hanging up. It felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest with how fast it was racing and she felt sick to her stomach as she tried to remember what happened. Whatever happened, it was bad enough that Dr. Maximoff was coming to tell her in person.

Y/N asked Chief Miller if he would be there when she went over the information with Maximoff, wanting some sort of support in case whatever happened was really bad. She kept adjusting herself in the chair in front of Chief Miller, nervous for whatever information was about to come out. She put on a small smile when Dr. Maximoff came into the office holding a medical file, shaking her hand and watching her take a seat in the chair next to her, “Nice to meet you again, Dr. Maximoff.”

“Oh call me Wanda. And again, I’m very sorry about your memory loss. I want to start by saying that we have support groups I can recommend after we talk about this information. Given that you don’t remember, it is possible you’ll go through all the emotions and grief again.” Wanda said before placing the file on Chief Miller’s desk and opening it slowly, “The night of May 14th, 2019 paramedics responded to an accident involving two vehicles. You were in one of them. It was determined the other driver was driving under the influence and had a large amount of alcohol in his system.”

Y/N nodded slowly, watching Wanda instead of looking at the file. Her eyes were full of kindness, even maybe a little pity, “What happened to the drunk driver?”

“He died in surgery. With the amount of alcohol in his system, the bleeding couldn’t be controlled and the damage was too severe.” Wanda said before continuing, “It was later determined that he was going forty miles per hour over the speed limit and from your statement, he was driving down the wrong side of the road with his headlights off. You didn’t see him coming until it was too late.”

“How bad was it?” Y/N asks softly, picking at her fingers nervously as she listened.

Wanda sighs, flipping through pages of the file on Chief Miller’s desk, “You sustained abdominal bleeding, two fractured ribs, and superficial lacerations that our head of plastic surgery took care of which is why there is no scarring. You made me promise not to call your emergency contacts.” Wanda paused, observing Y/N’s reaction but she was just sitting there nodding, “We took blood samples to cross match your blood so we couldn’t have to keep giving you O-negative blood. Those blood tests showed trace amounts of the hCG hormone. After we took care of the abdominal bleeding, you miscarried from stress. You didn’t know you were pregnant. You asked me to seal the records of the accident and you signed yourself out against medical advice.”

Y/N took a deep ragged breath, looking down at the floor in shock. The writings in the journal were making sense. She could hear Chief Miller and Wanda asking if she was okay but they sounded distant and like they were underwater. Flashes started coming back in her mind of that night. She was driving down the road back to her hotel she was staying at, crying and listening to sad songs on the radio when the crash happened. Y/N put her hand on her chest as her breathing became more erratic, it was like she couldn’t get enough air. She could see Wanda and Miller trying to ask if she was okay and calm her down but their voices were so different and everything around her was swaying. She remembered sitting in a hospital bed and crying over the news and the guilt she felt for leaving the safety of Bucky, “Can’t breathe…” She whispers out, trying to stand slowly from the chair. Y/N remembered the day after it happened, Wanda brought the journals to her hoping it would help to write what she was feeling since she wouldn’t contact anybody. She remembered the grief she felt as well as the shock and pain. This was the reason she didn’t come back to Bucky and avoided him, she didn’t know what to tell him. The world was swaying like she was on a boat and it felt like she was underwater, unable to get air in her lungs or hear the muffled sounds coming from Chief Miller and Wanda. She stumbled around at the room spinning, blinking rapidly before the world around her started fading to black and she fell onto the floor.

——

Steve, Peggy, and Bucky were still all trying to figure out events that lead up to Y/N running away a month before her deployment, trying to think of any clues that would help put the puzzle pieces together.

Steve’s phone starting ringing and he excused himself from the conversation to take the call, “Hello?”

“Hi, this is Doctor Miller, Chief of Surgery over at Brooklyn Mercy. Is this Steve Rogers, Y/N’s brother?”

“This is Steve. Is everything alright?” “Yes, everything is alright. I’m just giving you a call to ask you to come in. Your sister had a pretty serious panic attack and lost consciousness. I think it would be good if you came in.”

“What? Yeah, I’m on my way.” Steve said, walking back into the kitchen, “We have to go, Y/N’s been admitted to the hospital for a panic attack.”

Bucky frowns, “Probably read those damn journals.” He growled out, turning immediately and walking out the front door to his motorcycle and speeding down the road towards the hospital with Peggy and Steve right behind him in their car.

When they arrived at the hospital, Chief Miller was waiting for them at the front doors. He lead them up to the room Y/N was in where she was talking to Wanda with the door closed and crying, pulling an oxygen mask up to her mouth every so often. Bucky looked through the window to the room before noticing that none other than John Walker was standing a little bit away from the room leaning against the wall with a frown. Bucky immediately felt rage consume him, stomping over to John and pushing him against the wall, “What were in those journals?!” He yelled before landing a punch to John’s cheek.

John winced at the hit and pushed Bucky away from him, “She knew about the ring, asshole! She thought you were going to propose that night but instead you broke up with her!”

Chief Miller and Steve quickly pulled the two apart, Miller holding John back while Steve held Bucky back, “That’s not what it was about! Now knock if off before I call security.” Chief Miller said, moving to stand between the men, “Due to her privacy, I can’t tell you what it was but it wasn’t about a ring.”

“She knew about the ring?” Bucky said, wide eyed as he processed the words. No wonder she had been so mad at him and what he had said. She thought she was coming home to a potential proposal and instead he told her if she left to never come back.

Peggy had separated herself from all the testosterone and walked into the room Y/N was in, shutting the door behind her, “I’m Peggy, her sister-in-law.” She told Wanda before she took a seat on the edge of Y/N’s bed, gently taking her head, “Are you okay, honey?”

Y/N shook her head rapidly, keeping the oxygen mask pressed to her mouth and nose as she cried into it. She remembered the pain when Wanda had told her she miscarried and feeling alone due to the fight she had with Bucky. It was the reason she had ran- she didn’t feel like she had a home to go back to and she wouldn’t know what Bucky would think if she told him she had lost their child. All Bucky had wanted was to grow up and have a family with her and she ruined that. Her gaze set on Bucky through the window and she pulled the blanket on her legs up over her head, sobbing loudly underneath the blanket. How could she even look at him knowing what she knew now?

Wanda got up to close the blinds in the window before returning the chair placed next to the bed, “Y/N,” Wanda asks gently, reaching out a hand to rest reassuringly on Y/N’s leg over the blanket, “You’ve dealt with this pain alone for a long time and you’re going through it again like it’s fresh. You should talk to someone about it, you need support.”

Y/N pulled the blanket off her head at the sound of the blinds shutting, looking at Wanda through her blurry tear filled eyes, “I can’t…You… You tell Peggy… I can’t… I can’t.” She sobbed out, dropping the oxygen mask to her lap and putting her face in her hands.

Wanda looks over to Peggy who was eyeing her curiously, “The night of May 14th, 2019 Y/N was brought in after her car was hit by a drunk driver. We took care of all the injuries… But we found out she was about six weeks pregnant. Due to the stress of her injuries and the stress she was already under, she miscarried.”

Peggy’s jaw dropped at the news, slowly looking over to Y/N. She quickly adjusted herself on the bed to scoot closer to Y/N, pulling her into a secure hug and stroking her hair softly, “Shh… It’s okay… I’m so sorry, honey…I’m here…” She soothed gently. It all made sense of why Y/N didn’t come back before she was deployed and why she never talked to Bucky.

Eventually Wanda offered a light sedation for Y/N since she couldn’t stop crying and keep her breathing under control. Y/N drifted off to sleep from the sedative, her mind finally calming but the ache in her body didn’t fade. When she opened her eyes, it was nighttime. She looked over to the window to see Peggy and Steve talking to Wanda and Chief Miller outside of the room. Her attention was take when she felt a soft squeeze of her hand, looking over and seeing Bucky sitting in the chair staring at her with a small smile. The sight of him almost made her break again, pulling her hand out of his grasp and pulling the blanket up over her head to hide from his face.

“Hey, Y/N,” Bucky said with a small frown when she hid away from him under the blanket, “Baby, come on look at me. Talk to me.” He pleaded, trying to pull the blanket away from her face, “What happened, doll?”

Y.N eventually quit fighting the tug of war with the blanket, letting him pull it away from her face. She didn’t meet his gaze though, staring into her lap as tears started to roll down her face. She was amazed she still had any water left in her body to cry, “I can’t… You should go…”

“Fuck that, darlin. I’m not going anywhere when you’re crying.” Bucky told her, moving himself from the chair to sit by her bedside. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, leaning close and kissing her temple softly, “Talk to me, please.”

“I can’t.” Y/N replied, still not meeting his gaze as she shook her head, “I was finally feeling like everything was right in the world… Like I was back where I belonged with you… Safe.” She took in a sharp breath, releasing it slowly, “Now, it’s just all going to be ruined again. We’ll be ruined. You’ll leave.”

Bucky’s frown deepened at her words as scenarios ran through his mind of what Y/N could be talking about, studying her features intently, “No we won’t. I told you that you are the love of my life, Y/N. Nothing is going to change that.” He told her, moving his position to take her face in his hand and forcing her to look at him, “Now talk to me.”

Y/N stared at Bucky for what felt like forever, studying his face. She wondered what would reflect back to her in his eyes when she told him. Right now his eyes were pooled with concern for her but once she would tell him, they knew that concern would leave, “The night we fought… May seventh right?” She watched him nod, “On May fourteenth I was driving and I was hit by a drunk driver. I was taken to a hospital in Queens where I was treated.” She watched the concern grow in his eyes at her words, “I didn’t know I was six weeks pregnant and I lost the baby… Our baby… I would’ve came back if I knew, never left… But after I couldn’t come back to you.”

Bucky’s mouth parted slightly at the words, his eyes moving across the features of her face watching the tears leak down her face. He hadn’t even noticed his own tears starting to fall at the news. Guilt raked through his body at the words he had said that made her leave, put her in that position to get hurt. It would have never happened if he would’ve swallowed his own fear and anger at her deployment. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug, “I’m so sorry, doll.” He said through his own shaky breathes, trying to control his breathing as he cried, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I did this, it’s my fault… I’m so sorry.”

_____________________________________________________________Taglist: @vicmc624 @buckypops @shawnie--jo @ahahafudge @intothesoul @austynparksandpizza @stcrryslibrary

Shout out to @shawnie--jo for having a big brain and guessing correct (:

If I missed anybody on the taglist or you would like to be added, send me a quick message, comment, or ask. Thank you for the support (:

#bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic series

81 notes · View notes

xxprettylittletimebombxx · 3 years

Text

I wanted to address one more thing on the subject of plagiarism in fanfics--

and then I promise I’ll shut up about this for a while (or at least that’s the hope because it’s not exactly a fun topic?)

There was a story posted to ao3 this week that was clearly heavily inspired by my fic, ‘Who Could Deny These Butterflies?’

The fic in question has since been removed by the author (which is the only reason why I feel comfortable talking about it now.) And if any of you saw it before it got taken down, I’d prefer if you didn’t name it or the author in question.

I’m not trying to direct any targeted hate their way. I’m just hoping that by talking about this, and sharing some choice screenshots, it helps offer some perspective to those of you who’ve noticed me and/or my friends talking about the issue of plagiarism in the JATP fandom with some regularity over the past few weeks.

Something that I’ve seen pop up quite a few times whenever the issue of plagiarism in JATP fanfic has been brought up before is this mentality of sort of instantly giving the other person the benefit of the doubt instead of the original author.

I’m someone who desperately wants to see the good in others first, so I totally get why that might be a natural gut reaction. And I totally agree that allowances can and should be made for similar concepts included purely by accident.

But the idea of more or less chalking everything up to an honest mistake really starts to bother me when the instances of plagiarism are so blatantly obvious, it’s almost impossible to believe the thing that was stolen was stolen by accident.

I can guarantee you that literally any time you’ve seen myself or somebody else in this fandom vague posting about an instance of plagiarism, it’s the latter.

And just in case you need an example of the sort of instances we’re talking about, here’s an example of just one moment the person in question took from ‘Butterflies’ and put into their own story:

And just for comparison’s sake, here’s my version:

It should also be noted that in this particular most recent instance, I had a handful of people call the fic in question to my attention (one person in my asks, two friends, and in addition, two separate readers who left comments on the plagiarized work.)

I hadn’t even read the story that took from mine before I was made aware of it, so the fact that other people noticed on their own-- and left comments saying as much-- should be a major red flag. AND YET, when I commented on said fic politely asking the author to remove it given the similarities, I found myself receiving pushback from another reader.

(There are probably some other points to be made here about the difference between a few passing similarities and what is essentially just a rewrite of the same scene, with one or two characters missing and/or added in, but that’s perhaps a post for another time.)

It’s just completely baffling to me that anyone’s gut reaction would be to side with the other person when the case is so cut and dry? Which is, quite honestly, why it’s so hard to speak up about stuff like this.

There’s always that fear of being labeled as overly sensitive. Literally any time I’ve reblogged a post about plagiarism on here I’ve worried that people on here think I’m being overly sensitive. Which is why I’ve let a few instances of plagiarized lines/concepts/etc. slide in the past-- and I know some other friends have as well.

And I guess it seems silly to get worked up about fanfics getting plagiarized because none of us own the characters or the canon we’re all playing with. But it’s hard not to feel a little disheartened when, as a writer, you put so much time and effort in crafting a story with those characters that’s uniquely yours, only to see somebody else trying to pass it off as their own original work.

There’s really no graceful way to end this post. So just...you know...don’t steal.

If you’re an avid fanfic reader and you see somebody else stealing pieces from someone else’s writing, call them out on it (nicely though, please! something as simple as “I couldn’t help but notice your thing is very similar to this other thing-- you should maybe think about crediting the author and reaching out to them to make sure it’s okay that you’re using it” can go a long way.) or at least notify the original author so they can decide what to do about it.

And if you’re a fellow writer who’s worried about perhaps accidentally writing something that’s too similar to someone else’s thing, please try not to harp on that too much. And if it happens by accident, just apologize and come up with a way to fix it-- we’re all learning here, you know? And we’re all just trying to create fun things for each other to enjoy, and I don’t want that to stop just because of a few bad instances. It’s just exhausting, you know?

ANYWAY, I know this post is very long so thank you to anyone who bothered to read through it-- I really appreciate you. Picture me scurrying away to my writing dungeon now.

And to end on a more positive note, Jukebox Appreciation Week kicks off in THREE DAYS-- I hope y’all are ready and are as excited for it as we are!

#jatp #jatp fic #juke fic #jatp fandom #on fanfic #on writing

63 notes · View notes

recycledcactus · 3 years

Text

so i’m really thinking about the Dream SMP as like, a world with civilians and stuff. because you know how when there was an election, our votes were canon, right? so what if there were regular ol’ villagers and civilians who lived in this world...

(also this is kinda based off of something @khizuo said a while back. also @phantom-clock, @strawberiitea, and @emo-and-confused, y’all might like this, idk)

reblogs appreciated :]

Warning: Long post ahead!!! (Basically me just skimming over all the events since Tommy had the first duel with Dream and then to the point where he and Tubbo faced off with Dream in sort of a civilian’s perspective)

I’m thinking about how people inhabited the lands of the whole DreamSMP, lived in those places and had homes and jobs in those places. There were people who followed their leaders. People who grew to question their leader’s morals. People who still remained after all the destruction. And people who left because nothing could ever be the same

I’m thinking about how some men, women, and even possibly some children went to war for their countries. They looked up to their leaders––their symbols of hope and freedom. They fought and died and some probably never made it home.

I’m thinking about how they went to bed one night, presuming they had lost the first war, only to wake up to cheering in the streets. They woke up to see their leader, Wilbur, and his closest friends laughing and hollering and yelling ‘We won!!’. Do you think they ever learned that Tommy sacrificed a life? Do you think they were told that? Or do you think they lived in blissful ignorance that a child died and gave up his discs for their country. Did they celebrate that day, thinking all was well?

Did they pass the walls of Eret’s castle with hatred in their gut?

What about Schlatt’s election? I wonder if people knew who this guy was. Wasn’t he just a stranger brought to their lands? Schlatt was originally there to help Pog2020 win, right? How did the citizens feel when the ram announced he’d be running too? Or worse, when he won? They must’ve been scared, right? Confused. Scared. Unsure. Curious, probably. And when Tommy and Wilbur were exiled. They had to watch their leaders be shot at, driven away by arrows and mad laughter. They watched Tubbo be called to the podium. Watched Schlatt grin at the teenager and announce him as his right hand man. They were helpless to Tubbo nervously leading Tommy and Wilbur far away. Did they riot? Cry out? Try to fight? Were they held back by the others? Perhaps some left the nation, too scared to stay.

Citizens probably slipped away in the night, past guards, and followed where they saw Tommy and Wilbur go. They probably found the two building their home and joined them, eventually setting up a system for other people on their side to come quickly. Did they work as double-agents in the shadows? I imagine they mined out Pogtopia and created little pockets of space to live in. Children’s laughter would ring out on all levels of the ravine. Patters of footsteps rung throughout the underground society. People would slip in and out with resources, information, and recruits. It was a small, bustling base. But it was home to the revolution.

They watched the great Blood God walk their halls, scared to be in his presence but ultimately in awe. They farmed silently by his side for hours, just to go to bed and wake up the next morning, finding he didn’t stop. That probably changed their vision of him, if only for a short while.

I wonder how they felt when Wilbur went insane.

Were the plans of bombing their old nation just rumours that echoed the caves? Or did they know the grim possibility of what could come?

When Technoblade murdered Tubbo, did cries ring out in the streets? I’d imagined they did. I’d imagine more riots. By both citizens and revolutionists. Fireworks danced in the skies but they were never a joyous sight after that day. Did people yell and scream at Techno as he massacred the leaders and founders of this server? Or did they dare to make a noise, too scared to meet an end like that?

Some of the adults gathered around the pit Wilbur made, watching the sickening show happen. They cringed at each of Wilbur’s little taunts. This was not their leader. This was not who they swore to follow.

I think some people left the lands after that.

They went into another war and thought they came out with a win. Schlatt was dead in the old drug van and it seemed things were at peace now. Many people disagreed with Tommy being at the podium––being in power––but not much was said. It couldn’t really get worse from Schlatt and Wilbur, right? Tubbo is elected and he accepts. There are cheers and cries of relief. Everyone’s tired but in a good mood. They don’t notice their old leader slip away. It only descends into more chaos from there. There are more fireworks, fighting, clanging of metal on metal. People no longer know which side is which––or even who attacked in the first place. Tommy is yelling something, and Techno is yelling something back. Did they notice Wilbur was gone? Did they start to realize the gravity of the situation? Did anyone suddenly just feel hopeless and accept that this was the end? The ground shakes, and people can’t tell if it was due to battle, or due to a winged man entering their world. Civilians and soldiers alike witness their home explode and burn to the ground. Did they have time to see Phil and Wilbur argue? Did they watch their former president get stabbed by his father? Or were they too distracted with Techno’s speech and the Withers and Tommy’s reaction to see anything? (A reminder was set into place: Do no mess with the Blood God). How many people do you think died that day? Soldiers and civilians alike? Children, even?

What did they do when their nation was nothing but a burning hole in the ground?

What did they do when they suddenly lost everything? When their homes were nothing but rubble and ash? When the bodies of their friends and family alike littered the gaping crater that was their nation?

Did they hold onto hope at the words of their new leader––the dream of a new L’Manburg? More people left, probably. Did the revolutionists take their stuff from Pogtopia and never enter that toxic crevice of a base again? Perhaps they put up tents and huts around the destroyed L’Manburg just like how it used to be in the early days. They set to work slowly rebuilding their country and tried their best to keep their spirits high. It wasn’t the end.

Philza was nice to them, albeit melancholy at times. They liked him. (Did they know what he did)?

How many people do you think yelled and took out their anger on Ghostbur? How many people do you think actually liked him?

Did they turn the site of the still-intact L’Mantree into a graveyard for their fallen friends and family?

I wonder how many people hated Tubbo being in power. Hated that a kid was leading their country. Or were they more pitying and angry at life for doing these things to children?

Did they know Tommy and the new kid, Ranboo, burning George’s house before Dream caught on? How many were terrified when the obsidian walls were put up? How many people were angry when Tommy went to court. Angry at Tommy for doing this? People probably either yelled that Tommy was just a kid, a victim of war and manipulation. Others probably yelled that ‘yes, this was all his fault, he should be punished for this’.

But were they prepared to see their conflicted leader exile his best friend?

Did they riot, scream, curse, and fight? Did they shout at Tubbo for being a terrible leader? Did they drive him into his home with their protests? Or were they stunned into silence at the gravity at the situation. He was a kid. He was a kid. He was a kid. They were kids. Did anyone try to find Tommy when he was in exile but ultimately get killed/escorted back to L’Manburg for their efforts? What did they think when Tubbo stumbled into their nation one day with tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes, mumbling something about ‘Tommy’s dead’?

I wonder how many people lost respect for their president that day.

I wonder if they showered the famous bench in flowers, place notes of respect in Tommy’s house, and give him a grave under the L’Mantree next to Wilbur’s.

Was it a surprise when Philza fled the country? He was kind, yes, but he never seemed to enjoy himself. He always looked tied down. Were they happy he was going to find a better place to be, or were they angry if they knew just where exactly he was going? Were they horrified and disappointed in their government for forming a ‘butcher army’? How sick do you think they felt when they heard the ambitious whispers of Quackity and saw how his behaviours became small reflections of Schlatt? Were they terrified at the possibility that another dictator like Schlatt could arise into power? Did they watch Techno’s failed execution with satisfaction or with unease? I think some were more amazed seeing the powers of a Totem of Undying for the first time. (A second reminder was set into motion: Do not mess with the Blood God).

Was anyone brave enough to ask Quackity how he got that scar running down his face?

How do they feel when Sam starts building a large whatever-the-hell-it-is out of blackstone and obsidian? They might catch wind of a prison being built to contain somebody certain. Nobody knows who, but many theories (Tommy, Techno, Tommy, Techno, Tommy–) are discussed. Is the inescapability of the prison boasted about or kept entirely secret? Does anyone look at the massive creation and feel like throwing up on sight? Not only because of the magical effects, but also because how the hell could somebody put a living, breathing human in there and not feel an ounce of regret or remorse? It sticks out like a sore thumb in the badlands and soon people just learn to travel places in a way that they can avoid it at all costs. I wonder if anyone senses Sam’s slight discomfort when he’s talking about who will go inside. Do they pity him? Or do they spit on him and glare at him for agreeing to do this?

The egg is is still only known by Bad, but do you think they sense the changes in his behaviours? Or are they simply too busy with their own lives?

When Tommy shows up, do people think they’re hallucinating? Do they stop in their tracks when they see that not only is he still alive, but he also looks nothing like who he was. He looks tired. So, so tired. His eyes are mostly dull, only the twinkle of the Christmas lights making them seem remotely bright. Though his smile is wide, do they notice how nervous it is? How happy yet unbelievably worried he is? How he slouches more, curls in on himself more, to appear smaller and less threatening. He still speaks loudly, yes, but he shuts up much faster. Do they notice how he always looks over his shoulder? How he always seems hesitant to open his mouth. Do they even recognize who he is anymore?

How do they feel when Tommy lights up when he sees Tubbo, yet seems almost scared to go and talk to him?

When the festival for Dream is announced, do they dread it? Do they get nightmares about the old festival when Tubbo was executed? Do they talk amongst themselves about how bad of an idea it is? Does anyone protest? Or are they just relieved to get some time off? I can’t imagine they’d know about the plans to assassinate Dream.

Are there any passerby’s when Dream stops Techno and Tommy at the Nether portal? Do they exhale in relief when Techno says Tommy is with him? Do they hold their breaths when Techno talks about cashing in a favour? Or do they simply retreat, too scared to be caught in a potential scuffle?

Do they cower or prepare to fight when Tommy and Techno show up, demanding for Techno’s things back? Does anyone really feel any kind of sadness when a Wither is spawned and destroys bits of their homes? Or do they just sigh and pick up the pieces of their hopeless nation?

How many people hear Techno mention blowing up L’Manburg again when he talks with Tommy at the community house? Does anyone catch that information amidst the pouring rain and newly-broken homes? I imagine it’d go unheard. The civilians are too busy fixing yet another damage to follow the mysterious brothers in the pouring rain. (They’d prefer to sleep in dry beds that night, thank you).

The festival takes place and it’s surprisingly... normal. There are tensions between the members of the cabinet and the other important figureheads of their respective lands, but it’s relatively quiet. It’s obviously not a well-planned festival, but it’s a festival nonetheless. Citizens get to enjoy the crappy games and snack booths that were haphazardly put together. It’s unusually peaceful considering this is the DreamSMP. Do they fall to their knees in despair when they find the watery ruins of the Community House? Are they furious that the most significant building in their world has been destroyed, just like everything else important, it seems. How many tears fall that day? How many accusations are spewed that day?

As they watch Tubbo and Tommy yell at each other, are they reminded of the day Tommy was exiled? Do they think of the face-off between best friends that happened on looming obsidian walls and dull skies?

Can they even register the words Tommy screams in blind frustration?

Are they in disbelief when discs are tossed to the enemy?

Or are they even surprised that another fight is breaking out? Do you really think that after all the shit these people witnessed, they’d still get surprised at conflicts.

But what about when Techno and Dream casually discuss plans to blow up their nation beyond repair? Do they finally register what’s happening? Are they frantic, already running to save their stuff? I think some would be in such a state of shock that they can’t even think about leaving.

I think that’d be the moment when people realize just how utterly powerless they are when it comes to their fates.

Is it really worth being sad over anymore?

When Tommy rallies figureheads and civilians alike, they try to be hopeful. To have one last spark of faith. But it’s hard. It’s so hard to be hopeful when the only constant in your life is destruction and chaos of your own home. It’s hard looking into the eyes of a boy so broken by war but still desperately trying to fix things. To know nobody had faith in him, and watch as this kid tries his goddamn best to make things better.

(Is he called selfish? Are people still mad at him? Does anyone have the energy to be mad at him for wanting peace?)

Nobody sees Nikki destroy their items for war.

Many last ‘goodnights’ are said as everyone prepares for what they dread (read: know) will be the end. They wake up to a big obsidian grid towering over their nation and a feeling of hopelessness settles into their guts. It wasn’t supposed to happen this early. It was supposed to be later. They were supposed to have some time in the morning to prepare for the inevitable. To say their final ‘goodbyes’ and hug their families for what could be the last time. They were not supposed to wake up to a grid obscuring the sun, still in progress of being built.

This battle is far more chaotic than the first destruction of L’manburg. There are far more Withers, far more swords and shields clanging, far more shouts between once-brothers and leaders. Phil no longer has the caring yet melancholy smile on his face. His eyes are cold and uncaring, his mouth unmoving as he schools his expression. People drown in blood, but they keep fighting because why not? They don’t have a reason to live anymore. Why not go out fighting for their doomed nation? They look the screeching Withers in the eyes and accept their fate.

Most are too distracted by Withers to listen, but do some hear the desperate cries between a certain Piglin and a certain blond boy? Do their hearts shatter all over again, or can they no longer feel anything? Perhaps their pity is buried underneath all the trauma and exhaustion they’ve endured. It can be hard to pity another when you yourself are barely getting by. They watch Nikki throw a torch into the L’Mantree, uttering the line ‘It was never meant to be’. They watch as it goes up in flames. They do not have the strength to put it out. But some salute with her and give her silent nods of understanding. They can’t bring themselves to be angry when Fundy stands off to the sides and watches their country burn. Do they hear Ghostbur’s outburst agains Phil? Do they watch in sadness as blue tears flow out of his eyes and he cries out about how much he actually feels things and isn’t just some happy-go-lucky comic relief.

Does anyone have enough care left in them to cry?

The numbered survivors join in on singing the national anthem. That seems to be the breaking point for a lot of them.

It’s okay, some try to convince themselves. It was never meant to be.

Not many people stay after that. There are only around 6% of the original population left. A good portion of these people are ones without families or friends. People who can afford to stay in such a destructive environment. It’s a desolate wasteland and people scatter around to find some kind of shelter. They don’t really know why they stay. Why they bother caring. It’s over. Maybe it’s because there’s really nothing left in life for them so what’s the point in leaving if their past will haunt them forever? Or because the chaos of their lives has now become a definite constant and they can’t imagine living without it. They’ve lived with destruction for so long that peace almost seems boring and unfulfilling. Did they really form an addiction to this lifestyle? How pathetic, honestly. Most people join Tubbo in Snowchester while others simply live wherever isn’t completely destroyed.

There are plans of Tubbo and Tommy finally killing dream.

Citizens are tired. It will not end.

The day comes, slow and steady like molasses on a hot day. Silence blankets the already pretty-quiet lands. Unspoken words are muttered between citizens and leaders alike. They line up on the Prime Path and say goodbye to the boys who fought so hard for a better world.

They try not to think about how much the two have lost, and yet they do not give up. Like the soldiers they were forced to be, they march on and face the jaws of death without any second thoughts. There are no fathers or brothers to be proud of them anymore. Nobody to stand behind them and offer unwavering support. They only have each other, and who knows if that’s a good or bad thing.

The silence that hangs over the land doesn’t lift. Not for many, many hours. Not until they watch as Tommy and Tubbo stumble back into the DreamSMP with wounds on their bodies and drained yet ecstatic smiles on their faces.

Nobody talks when they see Sam lead a chained up and tired-looking Dream to the large, inescapable hellhole that is Pandora’s Vault.

Not a word is uttered until the two teenagers announce their victory.

Dream is on his last life.

Dream is in prison.

Dream will no longer hurt them.

There’s an exhale of relief.

Many would argue that this wasn’t worth it. That living in this land was not worth the trouble it brought upon people. And many people would be right. But the sight of Tommy and Tubbo finally relaxing for the first time since before L’Manburg even started made them feel like maybe, just maybe, this moment was worth sticking around for.

46 notes · View notes

aggresivelyfriendly · 3 years

Text

‘Tis the Damn Season- Chapter 2

Winter Wonderland

Hello loveys! Here is chapter two, a new year, a new world, a new Harry video! Thank you to @dirtystyles for fixing my tenses, which I promptly messed up by revising and adding. All remaining mistakes are mine.

Happy reading- reblogs are love!

Emma was annoyed before she even caught her flight, but she loved airports, so she got lost in watching the peculiar things people did in the there to sublimate what was probably just anxiety. She'd once watched a boys' trip, maybe a bachelor party, get on a plane and begin toasting at 5:30 am. The groom had almost bought the whole plane a round, but one of his mates had stopped him. She assumed this wasn't his first beer of the day, but maybe it was the last of the night before?

People acted different in airports.

That had been her first flight to Holland. When she went to her interview at Wageningen University and Research Center. She really needed to impress, she'd pressed her outfit more than she had ironed anything since she'd been taught to do it. This was her dream school and the climate research they did was groundbreaking and she wanted to be part of it so much that she was willing to do whatever it took. Beyond the heavy course load she could expect during the regular school years, the top students got amazing summer work or internships. She'd promised herself she would not be going home for breaks for some time. Honestly she was just fine with that. There wasn't much left for her in Holmes Chapel.

There wasn't much in Holmes Chapel at all.

She'd wanted to move from the little village the minute they'd moved there when she was eleven. Sure it was cute, picturesque and maybe something out of a Jane Austen novel, but Emma did not read much Pride and Prejudice. Though she definitely had seen Mr. Darcy come out of the pond. Honestly, she was more of a nonfiction girl, and she like investigative reporting. She'd missed London pretty much immediately and begged to go back for months. It was a time in her life she would have called the absolute worst, until it became the foundation for the best years. Emma made really good, motivated friends. Big dreams were common in little Holmes Chapel, so Emma fit right in. It may have never felt like home exactly, but she made a home of those friends.

Gemma was one of them. She had done her share of Austen reading. Reading in general, and she had the sweetest family. Her little brother Harry was so nice to their mum, though he loved nothing more than bugging Gemma. Like all little brothers. She'd heard at least, Emma was an only child.

All her parents' hopes and dreams rested right on her shoulders.

But theirs weren't nearly so weighty as her own. Even then she knew she was going to save the planet, or at the very least reduce the number of climate refugees.

Now, after two summers in Reykjavik, she was more into sustainable energy and zero waste production, but she was still trying to change the climate game.

She would really rather be going back to Iceland now. A friend had invited her to see the Northern Lights. They were most active in the winter and she'd only caught glimpses of them during her summer internships. It may have been the experience of a lifetime.

But her mother had laid on a major guilt trip. Emma hadn't been back to little Holmes Chapel in two years. She'd come home that first Christmas because she was tired, overwhelmed, still adjusting to her school schedule, and a little homesick. Her mother told her so. She'd even skipped the Twist's Christmas party, which was the shindig of the season. She'd slept right through it, and only seen Gemma at the pub later. She hadn't been up for company, but Gemma was family.

This year? After a year's absence, she'd be going. And she'd receive the hometown-hero-returns treatment. Though she was sure her reception at the airport would consist of her mum with a single sign. When she did make it to the pub, she might see a few friendly faces besides Gemma. Last time? Since she'd missed the party, she didn't have anything to contribute to the discussion. She'd just listened to everybody else rehash it. Normally, that would be fine, but she already felt removed, and had always felt a bit like a screw among nails in Holmes Chapel, so she was determined to go to the party this year. She had all kinds of plans, how many hours she'd socialize, rest, and read.

The flight was easy at least, and the train up to Manc doubly so. She liked to sleep on trains, something about the rocking, and she resumed her old habit of sleeping wrapped around her backpack.

"Welcome home, love!" Her mother shouted and Emma actually got a little misty, just like her Mum. Maybe she should try to get home more than once a year, but there's just so much she wants to accomplish. She even had a list. All the things she wanted to do before she turned thirty. It's been revised of course, she'd not unrealistic. Once the list is complete, she can have a life outside her ambitions, like a real boyfriend.

There's not much time for anything but hook-ups for the next ten years., and Emma was ok with that.

Up til now. She might need another pass at her bullet points, or to at least read her goals again when she got to the Twist's new brick beauty of a house. Harry had bought his mum a new home, one not watched as closely by his obsessive fans. They hadn't found this one yet.

Emma could see why they followed him around so, and why some people risked it all for a certain face. His face, his very famous, gorgeous face.

It was so weird that Harry wasn't just Gemma's little brother who grew up cute anymore. His music wasn't really her style, though some of the songs were catchy and Emma did like his latest album. She caught herself humming about life stories long after she heard it, and she seemed to hear his latest single playing in lots of shops and restaurants, even in Holland.

At the party, she also found herself in the same room as Harry more often than she can find an excuse for. Her eyes also seemed to find him a lot, she knew because of how many times she had to whip her head away quickly. As a tactic, that didn't work because he was always either already looking at her,or he immediately turned like he knews where she was. Maybe her gaze had weight, or she was as subtle as an axe.

When he smirked at her the tenth time their eyes lit upon each other, she choked on her wine.

What the fuck?

She'd finally got herself calmed from that little encounter. Mostly because she left the room to find a loo. The water she splashed on her face was cold and woke her up. "What are you doing, girl?" Emma asked her reflection but found that she couldn't help but smile at herself, and bite her lip. The flush on her cheeks was lovely; she could blame the wine, everyones favorite excuse.

An hour later she was pleasantly tipsy, the kind of buzz you could maintain and still wake up the next day not regretting, and she'd gone to the kitchen to grab another glass to nurse her merry state. "Be right back. We need another round!" She was calling back to Gemma when she bumped into a tall lanky body. She caught his hips with one hand and found them with just enough give to grip. "Oof!" She exclaimed before looking up to see how much damage her wine had done. Good thing she drank white, there was a growing spot ok his sweater. Wait a second! Then she coasted her head up the lovely lilac sweater toward his face. "That's my sweater." She said first off, bopping his chin.

"Um, no, mine now." Oh, his voice was adorably thick with drink too. "You give it to Gem or something?"

What was he talking about? Her eyes stayed with his and she was kinda trapped in his greens when she realized he meant the sweater. She had, right. "I'm yeah, years ago. Was my favorite and we shared it a lot. I decided she should have it before I moved. And I guess she decided you should have it when you moved. Though I expect your life change was a little different than mine. Yours was like overnight and mine a life long plan, and oh my god, Emma stop talking." She would have kept rambling except, well, he kissed her, right on the mouth and held his overfilled lips to her own. No, overfilled wasn't true. They were full, but not crazy big, they just were so plump at the edges. God, when had she thought about Harry's lips so much.

Right now, as much as she could think of anything, it was Harry's lips. She'd relaxed into his rhythm and was following his lead when her free hand took on a mind of its own and coasted from his hips up his back and into his hair. He groaned a little before he disengaged and then chuckled.

"Well," he said as the offending hand went to her mouth. Maybe she did need to stop drinking. That was bold, unlike her, and strange. But wait! What just happened? Why did he kiss her?.

"Huh?"

"I think that beat my last mistletoe kiss and I'd convinced myself that was impossible!" He was giving her a knowing look, like a wink in his smile. Did he kiss somebody else tonight? She looked up at him and tried not to be annoyed, or feel jealous, or focus on the shape of his mouth, still a little wet from her kiss. Was he just hanging out by the mistletoe like a weirdo? Seemed odd for a bloke people were lining up to meet, let alone kiss.

"Why'd you do that?" She found her voice to ask. It was rusty, like she hadn't just been laughing and talking for hours with people she'd forgotten how much she enjoyed.

"You bumped into me under the mistletoe. I assumed you wanted me to." Well, she did while he was kissing her, but now he was being a bit of an ass.

"Um, you were just in the way..."

"Well, I'll have to find myself in your path as often as possible then." Ok, that was cute, a bit cocky, like the smirk on his face. Then his face flushed and his dimples were so deep and she decided that shift, from smirky pop star to hometown mumma's boy was the best quick change she had ever seen. "Ah, see, that got you to smile!" He bopped her nose and she knew her own dimple pressed in even further.

"Nah, you're a little shit, but I like your smile. Especially when you blush." The color he turned then made her laugh out loud. She felt drunk when she realized how long they'd been staring at each other grinning. She was counting her drinks a second later when he caught her off guard again.

"Where'd you just go?"

"Wha'?" Oh boy, she'd dropped her t, she was really home now.

"We were having a moment." He motioned between their faces. "Then you went in your head. Lost your attention, didn't like it at all."

Then he caught her hand, their fingers entwined together like their lips moments before. It was hot in there. Emma shook her head and glanced around, but she didn't untangle them. She looked at her boots and felt shy. But Emma wasn't shy, Harry used to be shy, though now he was bolder than her, apparently.

"Listen," he started and she looked up to his eyes again. When had they gotten so attractive? What had gone on with him in the last couple years? Other than the international superstardom she supposed, but he'd grown into himself, like expanded his skin and presence. He was cute, but all she could think was that the end of puberty was rarely so damn kind. His fingers even seemed attractive, long and slim and she was imagining him playing piano, but then the instrument was her body, and damn, she was in her head again. She could feel that her eyes widened comically. She knew her pupils were blown. When was the last time she'd gotten laid? Apparently too long if holding hands had her imagining unspeakable things and holding in moans.

He smirked then, she guessed he knew where she went then. "Listen," he leaned in close and she nodded, their noses brushed. He exhaled and her lips tingled. "Where are you staying?"

"Huh?" She wasn't sure what she'd expected him to say, but that wasn't it.

He giggled, and it was cute enough that Emma felt a splash of awareness hit her face. She looked around to see if anybody saw them flirting if she could disengage her gaze. "Are you at your parents?"

"Oh, um yeah?"

"Are you sure?" He laughed then and the brush of his thumb across the back of her hand was warmer than the mulled wine in her belly.

"No, I'm sure, just not sure why you are asking." She nudged him and realized a bit too late that her nipples touched him first, she was only half sorry this top meant no bra when she felt the friction.

It was his eyes' turn to widen. "Um," he exhaled and she missed his eyes when he quickly glanced down her dress like there might be a cookie there and then up quickly like he remembered he wasn't supposed to have any sweets. "Ok, um," he said after he visibly took hold of himself, "I was just hoping you had a room above the pub or something."

She knew her face called him idiot better than her mouth could.

He rolled his eyes, "I know, it was a shot in the dark!"

"Did you expect me to slide you my room key if I did?" Emma flashed her eyebrows like she wasn't imagining him finger fucking her with his piano hands a moment ago. "Isn't that your move?" She teased, kind of. She imagined he knew his way around hotel rooms, and women in them.

"Heeeey," he was being cute but the corners of his eyes dropped a moment and the green dulled. "It's not like that."

Emma scoffed.

"Well, I mean," his other hand found hers and now if anyone was watching them they were getting a show. "If it was like that, I wouldn't say no, but just want to hear about Holland, seems so amazing, and where you are in the summers..."

She could see him racking his brain.

"Iceland." They said together. And then giggled together too.

"You been keeping tabs on me?" She leaned forward and enjoyed the brush of him on her again. He shivered.

"Yeah, always admired you." He looked at her through his lashes. "I'd like to hear more reasons you're the most impressive person I've ever met."

"But I don't have a place." She reminded him.

"If I got one?"

"What?" She thought she knew what he was asking, but she wanted a minute to think about her answer, to quiet the resounding YES that echoed in her body and her mind. Because he might have said it wasn't like that, but they were chest to chest and had been holding hands since they kissed moments ago.

He looks down chagrined at his pigeon toes, before his gaze lit on their hands, then her face. "If I got a room at the Vicarage? Would you come with me? Really! We can really just talk." He assured and then the cocky boy who found his stride in hotel room assignations showed out, "if you want." Those dimples were deadly.

"Can it be the Boar's Head?" She knew she'd showed her cards, by asking for a room the town over.

He nodded and grinned like he'd just hit the hotpicks. "It can be the Boar's Head." He nodded like a dashboard bobble head. "I have to make nice here a bit longer, but I'll call now, and put your name on, so you can go when you're ready."

They'd been standing close for just a few more seconds when Gemma said- "Harry! Get off. God you are such a flirt!" But she was in her cups too, so they laughed it off.

The next hour, Emma stayed near Gem, but her eyes tracked Harry. Once, he came by and stole a sip of Gem's cocktail off her and Emma was glad her friend's ire distracted her, because Emma was watching him giggle like a fiend and the contraction of his throat. When their eyes met, she knew hers made a promise. One she wanted to keep.

So now she was alone in a couple of quaint rooms a town over, waiting to have sex with Gemma's little brother, Harry Styles.

She was torn, half of her wanted to open the bottle she'd swiped from the alcohol table at the party. The other half wanted to call an Uber and go back to her parents' house, where she should have stopped and grabbed some clothes so she wouldn't have to do the walk of shame.

But getting clothes would have meant forethought; she will deny that, especially to herself.

Emma had just opened the uber app and cursed their rural area when she heard a key in the lock.

Like a gun at the races.

They were never going to just talk. She'd just dropped her phone on the couch before Harry laid the first kiss on her.

The first kiss she planned to really remember, that is. Their mistletoe kiss had caught her off guard enough that she could only remember the feelings, not the details.

Yet, she was here, kissing him in a rented room after sneaking out of his mum's Christmas Eve party, on the strength of those feelings.

The kiss started strong and sweet, just like she takes her tea. He didn't taste like tea, he tasted like wine, Merlot maybe, but it could have been any red. And his tongue had this delicious slither to couple with its intoxicating flavor. She was in for a penny when she rode over here, but now there was no way she was going anywhere but to bed with him, no matter how pound foolish. He was nipping at her bottom lip and mouthing at her jaw before he sucked an almost mark into her collarbone and love bites onto the sides of her neck. He was just about to hit a particular sweet spot while working off her clothes, his hands were at her zipper. The cheeky boy, and she felt like they should at least hit pause even if stop was off the table.

"Harry," she moaned, or breathed, it was a sound she'd never made before.

"Hmmm?" He asked without stopping any of his forward momentum.

"I thought we were gonna talk." That one was like a laugh, there was a trill in her voice certainly.

"We'll talk afterwards." He said it like a statement, but looked to her for confirmation. At her nod, her skirt dropped and his hands were all over her bare ass above the stockings she'd worn to feel sexy but hadn't expected anyone to see. She normally would have worn tights. Thick ones, certainly, in Amsterdam. It would have been smarter here too. It was at least as cold. She'd been feeling that mix of confidence and self consciousness one gets when seeing people from your past when you think you've leveled up. She wanted to feel her best, look her best. Sexy, even if no one was interested. She's thankful, both for his interest and her unintended preparation. When he caught the sides of her knickers while her shirt and bra were as untouched as his clothes, she figured she needed to get with it. She'd been clutching his shoulders and his gorgeous hair instead of doing anything of use to their current pursuit.

Emma pulled at his shirt until it came over his messed up disheveled hair and laughed at the hodge podge of black ink haphazardly spread over his torso and one arm. "What's this then?" She said between licks of his tongue.

"After, we talk after!" He'd gotten her shirt unwrapped. She liked that detail of the shirt too, a sexy secret, like her matching bra. He pulled back to stare and was distracted long enough for her to give him another look over. He does look sexy in his decorated skin.

"What do they mean?" She liked things to make sense, her world was ordered, scientific.

Harry shrugged. "Lots of different things. Or nothing. Now can we please go to bed and we can discuss my stupid tattoos after I've had you."

"Oh fuck,'' was all she could say to that. He smirked and hoisted her up his hips to carry her through the open frame to the bedroom. He pulled her knickers free as soon as she was done bouncing.

She'd just about caught her breath when she saw him go for the button of his jeans. She lost it again when his thick bulge became visible and he pushed his tight jeans forcibly down his thighs. "Damn!" She looked at him with a glint.

He mounted the bed and spread her open, kissed her right knee over her stocking, which he seemed intent in keeping on, and looked pointedly at her center. She was swollen, his eye contact with the evidence didn't help. "Damn!" He echoed and she would have laughed but Harry, Gemma's sexy little brother, was kissing up her right thigh, with just a few licks and nips to her hip creases and so damn close to where she wanted him before he was testing the fuck out of her by kissing and licking and loving her left thigh. Ignoring her desperate need.

"Fuck, Harry. Please." She'd got the bedspread balled in her hands and she would normally have removed that before considering getting into the bed but she was also usually in pajamas and alone.

The filthy things he was saying were way worse than whatever could have been on the bedspread. Though she enjoyed them a great deal more, and it made her happy to have taken off everything already.

Harry had finally gotten to the main course. Only After her begging got loud enough to be heard by the room next door and the innkeeper, she won't make eye contact with anyone tomorrow. Maybe not even Harry, if he stayed. Emma had his full attention now, she could learn about all the things his mouth could do. The wet flat of his tongue caressed her like she was a bit of deliciousness and sunk down to find her creamy center.

"Fuck!" She yelped when he sealed his mouth over her for a tight suck and rub until she was rolling and writhing and fighting against the arms banded around her thighs. He laid one across her belly to hold her down.

"Do you like that?" He kept going because her answer was obviously yes. When the arm not restraining her passion made its piano fingered way between her thighs to do the thing she'd imagined earlier, sliding in tightly where she was wet and wanting, she clenched down on his three fingers and said his name.

He slid up her body and reached for the condom, but Emma had gotten her head back around to stop him before he got it on. She hated the taste of rubbers, and she'd like to know his flavor first. "Wait." She leaned forward between his legs and stroked him base to tip. He really was well favored, and not just from the neck up. She pressed his length to his stomach and licked the seam from his balls around and up to his head before she got a mouthful of him. Now he was her dessert. She didn't even think to try the pies and things at the party, she had been so preoccupied with the taste she'd had of him. It was but an appetizer for this. He leaked on her tongue and she moaned and hummed.

"Jesus! Emma! Stop, I'm gonna!" He pushed her back. And she was a little mad he'd taken away her sweetie. "Enough. I'd like to get inside you."

That was a suggestion she could take. So, she lay back and thought of anything but England while he stroked his skinned cock and spat over the tip. God. The way his stomach flexed caused an aftershock to recapture her. "Harry?" His name a plea. His knees hit the bed and her heels pressed him toward her, toward them.

"God, I've never seen you like this!" She'd have to ask him what he meant by that, later. Then he nodded, using his thumb to press his cock head inside the tight ring of muscle at the top of her entrance. Except he was a little low.

"Uhh!" She glanced down and grabbed him to redirect. "Wrong one." She tried not to laugh.

"Sorry, might be a touch too eager." He confessed: She's now laughing, openly. "Hey! It may have went right in, as wet as you are?"

Now she'd be indignant if he wasn't so ridiculous. "Are you really complaining about how wet my pussy is?"

"No, no, that would make me an idiot right?" He asked and found the right spot to start pushing in.

This was always her favorite part, and since this was her favorite fuck already, she knew the pop when he got the lip of his head in would be enough to begin her tip over the edge.

She moaned even before he caught the exact right angle to square her desire and she clutched his back and lifted her bottom to chase his withdrawal. "It would, god, you're perfect, an idiot."

"Oh God, Em!" She liked that. And the kisses to her mouth and chin and neck. Messy and wet and out of control. He'd gone from deliberate and self possessed to a man overcome as he rolled his hips up and into her and against that delicious place inside.

"Harry, don't stop. I'm close." Her head fell back when he slowed down just enough to draw out her orgasm, bring it to the surface and ride it home. He stroked her through and then brought his hands under her ass to lift her pelvis up to his driving thrusts, more deliberate and direct than the ones he used to get her off. She watched his face scrunch, and then open, his jaw down and his eyes closed until he smiled and licked his lips.

It's that face she decided she wanted to see as much as she could.

And she did, it was made better when he bit his lip and laughed. "Am I a perfect idiot then?"

She was blissed out and couldn't stop herself saying, "no you're an idiot with a perfect cock!" He was just pulling out of her then, and she was so embarrassed when he stood up to tie off the condom and preened.

"Am I now?"

She was the idiot. "I'll Pay you to forget I said that!" Emma wants to scurry to the bathroom and get out of here. She's already feeling shame, may as well get the walk over with.

"I don't need any money." He's laughing now. Shes scooting to the restroom when he catches her hands and holds her close. "Where are you going. You owe me, you're gonna pay me in conversation."

Wait, he still wants to talk, even after they've done what they came to do. "Ok." Shes still a little embarrassed and pulling away.

"No, no, stay and talk, come back to bed and tell me about my perfect co—" she's clamping her hand over his mouth.

"Only if you shut up, and I have to have a wee first."

"After!" He begged. "I wanna hear about school and everything. What exactly you're doing to save the world."

"I'll tell you, I have to go after, prevents uti's and such." She hated being clinical, well right now.

"It does?" He asked and she nodded. "That's good to know."

She wants to be embarrassed, but his ease when she comes back from washing up, the way he is still naked and opens his arms to her, helping her find the right spot on top of him where they are both comfortable, it makes her less self conscious, about her little factoid, her nudity, or that she's essentially slept with him right off.

She sighs and is about to ask about the giant butterfly, moth, when he speaks. "Tell me about Holland, about school." His voice is like molasses, and her words come out as slow.

"It lovely, and school is so hard, some times I might as well move onto campus, live in the library-"

"You don't live on campus?" She shakes her head. "Do you ride your bike into town?"

"Yes, I do."

"Oh, you must send me a picture of you on your bike. In a dress." He wants to text.

"Then I want updates on any stupid tattoos you get!" She counters.

"You think my tattoos are stupid?" He pouts, and she's captivated by that face.

"Very." She kissed both sparrows beaks. "But their also sexy."

He likes that, his dimples say so. Then he asks about Iceland and they talk for an hour or more before she's over him, swallowing his moans. They have another go in the morning before leaving, he's hard to convince that she'll be fine with an Uber. If he drives her, it'll blow their cover.

She wound up in his suv anyway.

For the next week they snuck out to warm up the backseat of his Range Rover, her mother's kitchen counter, his childhood bedroom, and then the inn again the night before she left. Just for a few hours, she'd told her mum she was going to the pub to say goodbye to mates.

Their goodbye meant his face remained her go-to for the next year whenever she was alone in her room, at night, missing him.

"Can I have you again, next year? For Christmas?" He'd asked.

Who could say no to that?

She faced those plans unafraid, the ones they made, for the whole next year.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #tis the damn season #winter wonderland #chapter 2

32 notes · View notes

alyssawritesssfics · 3 years

Text

Hounded [9] 9. Unity Day

Pairings: Bellamy x OC // Kane x daughter!OC

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: violence, mentions of blood, character death (canon), series spoilers

Summary: It’s Unity Day --and Athena’s birthday-- and the celebrations only bring Athena and Bellamy closer together.

Author’s Note: Hii, here is chapter/episode nine! This one is also heavily Athena/Bellamy, so I again had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you enjoy it! Please remember to note and reblog! It really helps me see interest and therefore update the story more often. Thank you!

Tag List: @topazy @no-damsel @lizlil (DM or send an ask to be added)

previous chapter // series masterlist

I had waited up late last night, anticipating the inevitable conversation with my parents. Luckily for me, both were too busy on the Ark to bother. Part of me was bitter, considering what today was, but I knew the chaos of Bellamy’s information stirred up a lot up there.

Luckily, today was Unity Day and Clarke and Bellamy had both agreed to pause work on the camp and defences until after the ceremony. This meant I had a chance to sleep in for the first time since I’d be locked in Skybox.

When my eyes finally fluttered open, I noticed Octavia staring at me from across the tent.

“Were you watching me sleep?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. Then, I smiled. “You’re such a weirdo.”

Octavia rolled her eyes, standing from her bed and rushing over to mine. “I found something I thought you’d like.” She leaned over, rummaging through her pack and pulling out a long knife, handing it to me with a smile. “Happy Birthday.”

My eyes widened. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Of course I did!” Octavia beamed. “You made my birthday in Skybox so special, and we weren’t even free at the time. I know it’s not much, but I figured it would come in handy.”

I felt my eyes swell with tears, though I quickly pushed them back. “Thank you, O. I really appreciate you even remembering.”

We hugged briefly, Octavia pulling away with excitement. “We are going to have so much fun tonight. Monty is cooking up some of his famous moonshine.”

“At least we get to drink it this time.”

“I’ll let you get ready for the day,” Octavia spoke, heading to the entrance of the tent. “Too bad the moonshine isn’t ready yet. I could use it to get through the Unity Day Ceremony.”

I laughed as Octavia headed out of the tent. After all those years of participating in the ceremony with Clarke and Wells, I could also use a drink.

…

I made my way to the center of camp, finding most had gathered around the monitor to watch the early portion of the ceremony. The camera panned to my father for a moment, a sharp pain shooting through my body. Despite lucking out and getting to avoid talking to him, of course I’d still have to see him.

“Missing being up there for this?”

I turned around, Bellamy appearing. “Definitely not.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Kane’s daughter doesn’t like Unity Day?”

“Kane doesn’t like Unity Day.” I whispered, earning a chuckle. “It’s just such an elaborate show, as if we came together peacefully for the good of mankind. The Ark only became the Ark after the thirteenth station was blasted out of the sky.”

“You’re even more pessimistic than usual.”

I rolled my eyes, turning back to the screen. “You’re one to talk.”

Bellamy let out a sigh, walking away to join the others.

Alone. As Always.

…

- Six Years Earlier -

I sat on the couch of our family’s unit, staring at the door. It was nearing midnight, and I had yet to see my parents all day. When I woke up they’d both been gone, my mother being called away for surgery and my father for whatever ‘official business’ Jaha needed him for today.

My birthday cake sat in the fridge still, awaiting an adult to stick some candles on it and light it for me. Part of me felt guilty for being upset about missing out on candles; I was one of the lucky few who could even afford to have a cake made. I had read in a book once that cakes were tradition for every birthday on Earth.

The sound of a keycard swipe yanked me from my thoughts as I quickly jumped over the couch. The hard metal door swung open, revealing my mother. She looked exhausted, yet somehow still so put together.

Her eyes finally landed on me, her tired eyes widening. “Honey, I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright, Mom.” I lied. “I spent the night watching movies after the Unity Day Ceremony.”

She frowned, placing her keycard on the table by the door. “You shouldn’t have to watch movies alone on your birthday.”

“I’m used to it.” My mother winced, her frown only growing. “I haven’t touched the cake yet.” I added, smiling.

My mother finally smiled. “Let’s bust out the candles then!”

“Really?” I asked. “We aren’t supposed to have any flames after ten.”

“Are you going to tell Jaha?” She asked. I shook my head. “Good. Neither am I.”

My mother marched into the kitchen, grabbing the candles from the drawer as I pulled the cake out of the fridge. She placed twelve candles neatly across the cake, lighting them all with a match. Before I could blow out the candles, she placed a soft kiss on my cheek.

“Happy Birthday, Sweetheart.”

My smile filled out my face as I closed my eyes and made my wish. Then, I opened my eyes, blowing out the candles as the clock struck midnight.

…

“My friends, this is a historic Unity Day.” Jaha spoke through the monitor. “Every year, we mark the moment our ancestors of the twelve stations joined to form the Ark, but this is the last time we do so while aboard her. Next year, on the ground.”

Cheers erupted on the Ark, but most remained silent down here.

“Right. After we did all the work.” Miller groaned. “Somebody shut him up.”

“You shut up, Miller. Nobody’s forcing you to watch.” Raven snapped.

“For ninety-seven years, we have eked out an existence, hoping that someday our descendants would return to Earth.” Jaha continued.

“Monty strikes again!” Jasper’s voice rang out through the camp. “Call this batch ‘Unity Juice’. Who’s thirsty?”

Many delinquents rushed over, grabbing makeshift cups while Jasper filled them all. I stayed put, for reasons I didn’t even understand, watching the ceremony instead.

“To our sons and daughters on Earth listening to this message, we will see you soon.” Jaha carried on. “The first Exodus ship will launch in under sixty hours, carrying you the reinforcements that you need, so stay strong. Help is on the way.”

As the words filled my ears, I could feel my heart stop. The first Exodus ship meant the second wouldn’t be far behind. How soon until my father was down here? Despite the constant threat, I was getting used to having freedom down here. I definitely wasn’t ready for him to bark orders at me again. At least my mother would be down here soon. Hopefully before him.

Children carrying flags danced around the screen for a while, a little girl finally stepping into the center of their circle.

“Long ago when the Earth was on fire, through space all alone. Then one day, Mir floated by Shenzhen, and they realized life would be better together.” The girl spoke. “The other stations saw this, and they wanted to be together, too. When all the stations were formed, they called themselves-”

A loud bang sounded through the radio, the video cutting to static. We all stared at the screen, waiting for the video to come back, but it never did.

…

The sun had gone down, work came and went, and now it was time to have some much needed and deserved fun. As I walked through camp I watched everyone drinking, laughing, singing and playing games. I’d never seen ‘unity’ like this on the Ark.

My eyes landed on Bellamy, and I felt a familiar sinking feeling in my stomach. I took a deep breath, marching over until I was standing behind him.

“Hey,” I spoke, causing him to turn around. “I was a jerk earlier. I’m sorry.”

Bellamy eyed me for a moment, before smiling. “Birthday blues, I get it.”

My eyes widened. “How did you-”

“Octavia told me a bit ago.” Bellamy cut me off. “I can’t blame you for hating Unity Day more than most.”

“My birthday was always a little overshadowed.” I sighed. “I can’t complain too much, though. My mother always found a way to make it special, even if it was just before midnight.”

Bellamy smiled. “Your mother sounds great.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool.” I smiled back.

I watched Clarke approach us, a frown on her face. “The comms are still dead.”

“Best Unity Day ever.” Bellamy smirked.

“Now you agree with me.” I joked.

“Do you guys really think now is a good time to have a party?” Clarke asked, looking around. “The Grounder is still out there.”

I shook my head. “Grounders.”

“By now, he's made it home. He's probably putting together a lynch mob.” Bellamy spoke, causing Clarke to shift her feet. “Relax. I got security covered. Why don't you go get a drink? You look like you could use one.”

“I could use more than one.”

“So have more than one,” Bellamy responded. “Clarke, the Exodus ship carrying your mother comes down here in two days. After that, the party's over. Have some fun while you still can. You deserve it.”

Clarke thought for a moment. “Yeah, okay. So do you, by the way. Both of you.”

“I’ll have my fun when the Gounders get here.” Bellamy smirked.

Clarke smiled, laughing slightly. “Alright.”

We both watched her disappear into the crowd, Bellamy spinning the apple in his hand. Finally, he turned to me.

“What about you?” He asked. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”

I shrugged. “I’m not even sure I know how to celebrate.”

Bellamy took one final bite of his apple, tossing it to the side. “Come on.” He said, marching away.

“Where are we going?” I asked, my shorter legs struggling to keep up.

“First, we get drinks. Then, I teach you how to celebrate.”

I laughed, causing him to stop and look back at me. “You’re going to teach me how to celebrate?”

Bellamy smirked. “Trust me, we used to have the best parties on Factory Station.”

“Right, I heard about those.” I smiled. “I always wished I could go.”

“Well, now you pretty much get to.”

We reached Jasper, Bellamy asking for drinks. Jasper poured them, eyeing the two of us the entire time.

…

We spent most of the night drinking, talking about our experiences on the Ark and playing different games. Finally, we came across a new group, Clarke among them.

“You’re not gonna get this one.” Clarke taunted Fox.

Fox smirked. “Yes, I am.”

“No, it’s not happening.”

Fox flipped the metal piece, landing it the cup of moonshine.

Everyone around the table cheered as Clarke admitted defeat, drinking from the cup and spitting the metal piece out.

“What do you know?” A boy spoke. “Her highness can actually party. I like it.”

“What are you gonna do when the guards come down here and commandeer Monty’s still?” Clarke asked.

“Build another one.”

“Right.” Clarke laughed, her eyes landing on me. “Athena! Come try.”

I shook my head. “I’m alright, thanks.”

“Come on, Athena.” Bellamy nudged my arm.

I sighed, stepping towards the table. “Alright, what am I supposed to do?”

Clarke explained the rules to me as best as her tipsy self could. I stood across the table from her, aiming my piece of metal towards her cup. I then tossed it, the piece bouncing off the table and landing in her cup.

Clarke stared down at her cup for a moment before looking back up at me with a frown. “I regret asking you to try it.”

“Beginners luck.” I threw my hands up, smiling.

Clarke and I battled it out for a bit, her getting distracted before we could break the tie. She placed one of the metal pieces on her nose, struggling to balance it.

“Hey, can we talk?” Finn asked, appearing through the crowd and placing his hand on Clarke’s arm.

“Is everything alright?” She asked.

Finn looked around before gesturing for her to follow him.

With Clarke gone I stepped away from the table, realising I had sort of abandoned Bellamy. To my surprise he was still there, the smile on his face bigger than I’d ever seen it before.

“You were totally going to win that game.”

My eyes widened, my cheeks warming up. “You think so?”

He nodded. “I’m impressed, Athena.”

“It’s the birthday spirit, I guess.” I laughed, stumbling slightly.

“Woah,” Bellamy laughed, grabbing my arms. “You alright?”

I nodded. “I’m a little dizzy. Very tired. Too much birthday.”

Bellamy laughed again, helping me regain my balance. “Let’s get you to bed, alright?”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

Bellamy led me across the camp, stopping just outside of my tent.

“Octavia, are you in there?”

No response.

Bellamy pushed the flap to the side, stepping inside and helping me navigate my way through. I quickly sat on my cot, staring up at Bellamy.

“Alright, try to get some sleep.” Bellamy’s eyes shifted around the tent. “I’ll bring you some water in a bit. Drink it when you wake up.”

Bellamy turned to leave, but I quickly grabbed his arm. “Bellamy, wait.”

He stopped turning back around to face me. I stood from my bed, the alcohol taking over me and I tossed my arms around him.

“Athena?” He asked.

“Thank you, for everything today.” I spoke. “It was the best birthday ever.”

I felt Bellamy’s arms wrap around me, lingering there for just a few moments before we both pulled away. I stared into his soft brown eyes, and he stared back into mine. For a second, I thought he’d say something more.

Instead, he smiled. “Goodnight, Athena. Happy Birthday.”

Bellamy turned to exit the tent, pushing the flap aside to reveal Clarke. Her eyes quickly darted to me behind him, before landing back on his face.

“Hey, I needed to talk to you both.”

“Been having fun, Princess?” Bellamy smirked.

Clarke glared. “I’m serious.”

“You always are.”

“Finn’s set up a meeting with the Grounders. I’m leaving to go talk to them.”

I stood up, my head spinning. “Like hell you are.”

“Do you think that impaling people on spears is code for ‘let’s be friends’? Have you lost your damn mind?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Now you two decide to agree on things?”

“Clarke, we have no idea what else these people are capable of. You could be walking into a trap.”

“I think it might be worth a shot.” Clarke shrugged. “I mean, we do have to find a way to live with them.”

“They’ll probably gut you, string you up as a warning.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here.” Clarke said. “I need you guys to follow us, be our backup.”

“Does Finn know about this?” Bellamy asked.

Clarke shook her head. “He doesn’t need to know.”

I eyed Clarke for a few moments, before finally letting out a hearty sigh. “Alright, I’m feeling up for an adventure this evening anyways.”

“Good,” Clarke nodded. “Bring guns.”

While I watched Clarke march away, Bellamy turned to me.

“You should stay here.”

I shook my head. “No way, I’m coming with you.”

“Athena, you were falling over ten minutes ago.”

“And now I’m worried about my friends.” I snapped. “Bellamy, We’ve all been drinking. I’ll sober up on the walk there.”

“Athena-”

“I can’t stay behind while my friends meet with the enemy. I’m coming with you, end of discussion.”

“No, not ‘end of discussion’,” Bellamy glared, folding his arms across his chest. “Who knows what kind of danger we’re gonna be walking into out there. I know you always feel like you have to risk yourself for your friends, but not this time. I can’t worry about you.”

I went to protest, his words finally sinking in and forcing me to stop. He was right. As much as I found arguing with him slightly entertaining, I knew this was one battle I would not be winning.

“Alright,” I sighed, slapping my hands against my thighs as I sat down on my coat. “Promise you’ll be careful?”

Bellamy nodded. “We’ll be back before you know it. Try to get some rest.”

Bellamy left the tent, and I knew I would not be getting any sleep that night.

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #bellamy blake #bellamy blake fanfiction #bellamy blake x oc

14 notes · View notes

queen-of-my-goofball-army · 3 years

Text

Favorite Voice Actors

For those of you that know me, you know that my number one special interest is cartoons and the people that voice my favorite characters. Studying my heroes and watching them in interviews became a favorite pass time of mine. A lot of my friends thought that it was really weird and they stopped talking to me because of it. For a long time before I got diagnosed as having aspergers I talked forever about it. I think that both bored and confused people. For me, I love voice acting because anybody can be anything. You can watch a show and years later be like I know that voice it’s insert name here if you’re like me. True, certain actors have something that is brought to every character (I can think of one prime example later on down the list) but it is always about the heart that they put into their characters.

10. Charlie Adler: I’ll admit that I am mostly a fan of him due to the amount of work that he has done and the quantity. This man was the voice of Cow, Chicken and Big Red guy in Cow and Chicken. True, this show was past my time (and if it wasn’t I feel like it would get the Fairly OddParents treatment where my parents would forbid me to watch it.) When I listened to his episode of Talkin’ Toons I found his story’s really interesting and compelling. I can only imagine how much work and effort went into all of his characters in that show. To develop one character is one thing but to be able to switch between them like a deck of cards is a completely different thing. I did however watch a lot of Brandy and Mr. Whiskers when I was younger!! Growing up with that show and hearing him play Mr. Whiskers brought me a lot of joy when I was sick at home and for that I will always be a huge fan of his voice and his work.

9. Jim Cummings. If I were to say that one voice actor had a ton of versatility it would probably be him. I was a major Tigger fan when I was growing up. Not just that but I loved Raymond when Princess and The Frog came out. He is actually my mom’s favorite voice actor. But I also loved CatDog when I would see that on reruns, I grew to love Darkwing Duck and countless other shows that he leant his voice to. Studying voice acting and the people that do it has led to me finding some things out that I would rather not. Especially when I found that he wasn’t actually the nicest person in real life. But, to me that doesn’t matter when it comes to this list. He is here because so many of his characters made my childhood just a little bit happier. When I was thinking about favorite voice actors I considered two things, personality and character content. This one is here just for character content.

8. Bob Bergen: I reblogged a post a long time ago with this man at the helm. What he can do every time I see him do it blows my mind. Bob has been the voice of Porky Pig since pretty much Tiny Toons back in the early 90′s. He has stated that there have been some others but when I think Porky this is the name that comes along with it. Watching him do his thing is something that continually blows my mind. Listening to his life story on Rob Paulsen’s podcast Talkin’ Toons is something that inspired me more than anything. It’s this story of persistence and resilience from a young age. He is one of the few voice actors that actually got to talk with Mel Blanc when he was fourteen. I love his genuine heart and the ability that he has to jump into his character full force. Porky was a big portion of my childhood and I grew up laughing at his “silly” stutter. It wasn’t until I got older and learned that the stutter is an actual art form that I learned something entirely different.

7. Richard Horvitz: Most of you that know me might be surprised at this rather seemingly low placement for somebody that I greatly admire. I mean he was Invader Zim and Billy from Billy and Mandy for crying out loud!! I just bought a print for the man but really when I thought about it, he hasn’t really inspired me as much as my top six have. I love his sense of humor and his love of musical theater but he hasn’t taught me anything life altering. I think that he is hands down the funniest voice actor in Hollywood. I could listen to him make jokes forever and just talk in his voice but at the same time he is so other worldly and knows so much about the craft that it inspired me that way. He is as most of his fans joke “the dad voice actor” complete with dad jokes. I love Invader Zim so much, the show has helped me through a lot of loneliness and emotional moments in my life reminding me to keep laughing at life’s craziness. I also love Moxxie from Helluva Boss. All in all Richard is a fabulous man and actor. He has helped me figure out the kind of person that I wanted to be and I owe him a lot of laughter hours.

6. Greg Cipes: Can I talk about probably my OG hero for voice acting? When I was six I spent a lot of time in front of the television watching the original Teen Titans. My favorite character was Beast Boy his character that he played. When I say that BB changed the way that I think about my life that is not an exaggeration. He was one of the first characters that made me laugh so hard my stomach hurt. Growing up I had to fight people for his validation. It seemed like nobody loved him as much as I did. Cut to me in middle school I’m a bit more grownup and I start channel flipping. I wind up on Nickelodeon and see the reboot of Ninja Turtles. I figure I’ll watch it and see what all the hype is about. I hear Mikey open his mouth and instantly I get this rush of my childhood coming back. It was one of the first times that I made the connection between voice actor and character. Greg taught me so much vicariously through his character. He taught me about fun and laughter, about the importance of feeling lonely doesn’t mean that you’re alone in the world and even if you’re the goofball that doesn’t mean that’s all you have to be. The fact that he is such a relaxed and genuine person only adds to the admiration of this vegan beach bum.

5. Corey Burton: This is a very personal hero of mine. It’s one that I hold very close to me because of one thing. As far as I know, there have been very few voice actors on the autism spectrum. Corey is the only one that I have ever found. He’s the man that actually surpassed every expectation and said screw live performing it makes me anxious I’m going to get my experience through something that I know I’m good at radio. So he does radio and becomes really good at that. Then he goes to cartoons. He does Dale in Chip And Dale Rescue Rangers with a certain feminine icon of mine. He gets Ludwig Von Drake and has been that voice actor since the original DuckTales. Then he hits the peak, he was Mole in Atlantis Lost Empire a big budget Disney movie. I am so often inspired by my top six favorite voice actors. They are the ones that took me by the figurative hand and told me hey you can do get through whatever it is that you are struggling with. It just takes a little bit of laughter through the bad times, and an optimistic attitude that things will slowly but surely get better. Corey was the one that actually got himself to the top of the mountain and got to say that he did it. I admire that about him so much because for a while I thought to myself “Hey, he did it so can I”.

4. J Michael Tatum: In terms of anime voice actors, even though I love a great many, only one has ever remained of legend status. It comes yet again with a rather personal story. I was 17, lost and a little bit confused. I knew that I was ace but I had no idea how to tell my parents. It was around this time when I was getting back into anime due to Yuri On Ice, Space Dandy and Princess Jellyfish. I decide what the hell I’m going to watch some panels of my favorite voice actors for anime haven’t done that since I was thirteen. I had always loved Tatum as Kyoya Ootori in Ouran High School Host Club and France in Hetalia but other than that I didn’t know very much about him. I looked up panels for him and came across one for Florida Anime Con filmed that year. In it, he talked about being gay a lot. It implanted a seed that would inspire me. If he could be out and proud then why was I stoping myself? It might sound silly or stupid to some but to me it changed everything. From that moment on I loved everything Tatum. It led me to discover my love for Rei in Free, Okabe in Stein’s Gate and many other countless roles of his.

3. Tom Kenny: This man right here, he is the OG voice actor special interest of mine. He is the first name that I remember hearing because he did so much for Nickelodeon showing children how he did his most iconic voice. Who is that iconic voice you may ask yourself? Well it’s Spongebob flipping patties Squarepants. If that alone doesn’t put him at this spot then I don’t know what does. Like so many children in the early 200s I spent a good chunk of my childhood with me and my parents on the couch and this show on the television screen. You want to talk about legacy? This man voiced his way into the hearts of millions of children across the united states. I remember the first time I saw his actual face. I was flipping through channels and I saw this man on Nickelodeon. He had a goofy smile on his face and I figured what the hell I’ll give this a watch even though it’s not a cartoon. Then he started talking he introduced himself as Tom Kenny. Then he starts doing Spongebob. My five year old mind was blown. I never forgot his name ever since. Every time I would watch Teen Titans and Mambo would be on that episode I would be like “Oh that’s Spongebob’s voice actor”. It was that moment that changed everything for me. I have never looked back from my main special interest ever since. He has helped me through so much. Whether he be my favorite exorbitant yellow sponge, or Dog on CatDog, or Lazlo on Camp Lazlo part of me will always be with Tom Kenny. Keep making children happy Tom you’ve been doing a great job so far.

2. Tress MacNeille: Hoo boy this is a big one for me. For those of you that haven’t ever been around here before and don’t know the name of my character on my icon her name is Dot Warner (the Warner sister) and this is her voice actress. I hope that she changes your life and inspires you as much as she has mine. When I was nine I had an incredible fourth grade teacher. She showed us Yakko’s Nations Of The World for geography class. She also encouraged us to watch the rest of the show because it was full of educational songs and humor. I went home that day with on thought in mind. I wanted to watch the rest of that series. I go home and I make one distinction, hey that Warner sister I can kind of talk like her a little bit if I try hard enough. It was a little bit harder back in those days and I talk a lot more like her now with the reboot out in the world. This is the first and only impression I can do. I can do Dot and that’s it. And to me that was what mattered I didn’t need to be able to do anybody else. There aren’t a whole lot of woman voice actress’s that can keep working. All we have is Tara Strong, Cree Summer and the one and only goddess Tress MacNeille. Tress has helped me out so much in my life. I have never been the most confident person alive but from a young age hearing her absolutely smack down the actors of her brother’s in the show (Rob Paulsen and Jess Harnell) something about that inspired me. It was around this point in my life that I learned I can speak my mind and just not give a hoot if anybody feels the same way that I do. I can make my opinions known to other people. I was sixteen when I made that discovery and Tress was there for me all the way cheering me on in her Dot voice. I owe a lot to her and I wish that she was more active on social media so that I could have the opportunity to thank her for everything that she has done vicariously for me.

1. Rob Paulsen: If you were surprised by this, we probably haven’t talked before. At least not extensively because my dog do I love this man!! He has inspired me more than any other and he is not just my favorite voice actor but I consider him my ultimate hero in life. Where do I even start with him? There have been so many moments where I’ve fallen in love with one of his characters. I suppose one should start at the beginning. As I mentioned with Tress, my introduction through Animaniacs was Yakko’s Nations Of The World. This moment it changed everything for me because this was the first time that I could actually remember seeing Rob do a role. Yakko was the first cartoon character to actually make an impact on me. It was the first time that I ever loved a character that deeply. It was also the first time I ever made my own character to pair up with a canon character not even knowing that I was doing it. Ever since then a part of me has known okay that’s what Rob talks like. Now thanks to Tom Kenny I can recognize him in other places. And recognize him I did. From there I found that he was Carl on Jimmy Neutron, Mark Chang my favorite character on Fairly OddParents and countless other roles that we could be here all day for. As I mentioned, I was in middle school when the 2012 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were originally airing. When I watched that first episode, Donatello sounded really familiar to me. So I waited to the end credits only to find out that holy hell that was Rob!! The same person that played my favorite fast talking older brother. I found out about his fight with cancer a few years after it happened. This is when he went from favorite voice actor to hero legend status. He fought his way out of hell so that he could continue to sing “United States, Canada, Mexico, Panama, Heidi, Jamaica, Peru” until the end of his days. Reading his book changed my life forever as it gave me insight to not just the man who made me laugh, cry and cry laughing listening to his podcast but that same man had a whole ass heart and soul that he put into every character that he did. I find it really hard to explain what he means to me. He’s my hero, the one that made me laugh when I was a sad and lonely elementary schooler and the one that continues to bring me back to my childhood every time I see him in a show. I don’t feel the compulsion to give strangers hugs very often but if I ever met Rob I don’t think that I would be able to stop myself from giving a hug and just telling him thank you. Thank you for making my childhood and the childhoods of countless others much better than they would have been without you.

And that’s it folks!! Whew that’s a lot of me rambling but I feel a bit better now. Finals preparation week has officially started for me and I just wanted to give myself this big ol’ boost of serotonin before I went into it.

#Voice acting #Charlie Adler #Jim Cumings #Bob Bergen #Richard Horvitz #Greg Cipes #Corey Burton #Michael Tatum #Tom Kenny #tress macneille #Rob Paulsen

28 notes · View notes

razanartuk · 3 years

Text

about me tag game thing

i was tagged by the wonderful @nothingunrealistic! thank you very much ily <3

under read more bc i was not capable of keeping my answers brief this time around

why did you choose your url?

this...was supposed to be a short explanation but it turned into quite a tale so strap in i guess because we are going on a ride. back in 2017 i was just getting into musical theatre rp and i was still feeling too shy to really talk to anyone ooc so i would just wait for people i wanted to interact with to post starter calls so i could just do things in character with them the easy way. So i did this with my friend cam, who posted a starter for me using a lyric from If I Could Tell Her. she linked the song so i could listen to it, so i did and i went ‘wait a minute, is that Ben Platt from Pitch Perfect?? (and other things too, but i only recognized his voice at the time bc of the acappella girl movies)’ and yes it certainly was.

i had zero idea what the plot of Dear Evan Hansen was about at that point, and for some reason based off Just That One Song and the poster art of who i assumed was Some Guy in a Polo Shirt i started to think it was about some jock guy who broke his arm and had an emo/goth friend who had either died or gone missing under mysterious circumstances. also i intuited that Evan had a crush on his friend’s sister but he couldn’t tell her that directly or his emo friend would kick his ass. so i was like mostly wrong, but a little bit right.

oh and i knew jared and alana were characters from the show bc cam said that they were i think?? but i had no idea what their role was. so after listening to if i could tell her, i listened to good for you and all i really got out of that was that evan the apparently not-jock guy had done...something... that really hurt jared and alana. and at that point i finally decided to go look up a plot synopsis and i found out i was waaay off base. but honestly this is why cast recordings should include scene dialogue in the songs bc otherwise you just get soundtracks like dear evan hansen where the songs have like. zero context. we really just go from waving through a window to for forever to sincerely me without like. any reason as to what is happening huh. It’s honestly not a surprise anymore that all those people on twitter had no idea the plot isn’t about gay teenagers.

anyways. cam was writing jared and she made a post at one point about wishing somebody would write alana and i was like ‘oh i could do that!’ (after i had actually Seen a bootleg and finally knew what the whole story was, of course) so i made a multimuse rp blog featuring alana beck, nabulungi hatimbi, chloe valentine and some other characters, and cam started sharing her headcanons with me that alana is trans, jared and alana were close friends when they were little kids but they sort of drifted apart as they got older and their priorities in life changed, jared was the first person alana came out to when she realized she’s trans, etc.

one night i started talking about wanting to pick a more theatre-relevant url for my blog and trans-[character name] urls were getting pretty popular, and at least 3 of the friends i made through rp had changed theirs to coordinating trans-[character name] and i think it was cam suggested i should make mine be trans-alana so i did. eventually i realized the unhyphenated version was available so i changed it to transalana with no hyphen and i have lived here ever since. sometimes i think about changing it but i feel like transalana has become a part of My Brand and i am not so great with coming up with cool names for things.

any side blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them

in theory, i have sideblogs... i don’t really use them, but of the ones i do have, there is:

emsbookblog - this was supposed to be where i would post excerpts of the book that i’m working on, but i think i did that maybe one time roughly 2 years ago and then promptly forgot about it/got nervous about my writing and was scared to share anything else. the rest of the stuff that is there is assorted writing tips. i don’t really know what to do with it now. i probably should post all my little thoughts about em and anita and caleb there instead of infodumping on my main from time to time, but if i do that then i have to promo a sideblog and direct people over to it which is always annoying to me when i could just do it on this blog which is much easier

dearnovelhansen - this is basically no longer used, but was a sideblog i made specifically to talk/complain about the novel adaptation of Dear Evan Hansen which was about 3 years ago?? maybe? i can’t be trusted to understand the passage of time. but to summarize: i thought it was an honor just to have the story be made more accessible since many of us couldn’t see the stage performance, but i hated a lot of the creative liberties that were taken. my main grumbles are that everyone who isn’t evan or connor is done so dirty in the novel. connor’s still kind of done dirty in the book, but not as much as like. heidi, alana, jared, and zoe are.

horseisle3 - this one was meant to be a place where i could just enthusiastically post screenshots from hi3, but instead it turned into a blog where i occasionally reblog other players’ hi3 content and bitch about how bad the game admins are bc hi3 is the tumblr famous (infamous?) homophobic horse game. the game where it was once okay to call your club store the gulag bc according to their head of hr, ‘it’s just a russian word for prison’ but you can’t say ‘im gay’ without somebody accusing you of corrupting young children who play the game. unfortunately there aren’t very many good interactive horse games out there, so this one is still about as good as it gets. it’s either that or star stable and i don’t care about star stable.

mlaenie - i’ve had this url saved for i don’t even know how long. way way way back in the day when i wanted to escape from the clutches of the onceler fandom i abandoned my first blog where i basically had an alter ego i guess?? and i decided to just be myself on the new blog. i don’t fully remember who came up with it, but one of my sister’s mutuals suggested that if you scrambled the letters in your name you could come up with aesthetic-looking urls. so lauren’s url became lrauen, and to match with her mine became mlaenie, which i abandoned on tumblr after about a year or so? but have continued to use as my main username on twitter, reddit, youtube, xbox, steam, and discord. i barely ever use any of these accounts aside from twitter, steam, and xbox, but yeah. so i’ve decided to try and turn this empty sideblog into a place for video game thoughts maybe. we’ll see how long it lasts this time around.

how long have you been on tumblr?

i made my first tumblr account in december of 2010, but i didn’t understand how to use it at all or how to customize my theme to look cool and unique so i quickly abandoned it. i made a new account in september of 2011 after some kids at school and my sister told me i should and i have been trapped here with varying degrees of activity/inactivity ever since. i have witnessed the rise and fall of the lorax/onceler fandom, hyperfocused on lord of the rings, star wars and back to the future all at the same time, and for the past 4 years i’ve mostly been a musical theatre blog with assorted other fandom stuff mixed in. i feel i have seen everything and nothing, but mostly i’m just tired and bored.

do you have a queue tag?

no bc i don’t use a queue. i’ve tried using it in the past but i irrationally feel pressured to sustain a coherent theme to queued posts and my brain simply does not vibe with that so i just don’t use it at all anymore. Instead i instantly reblog or post several unrelated thoughts in succession and then don’t post again at all for 3 days. the way god intended

why did you start your blog in the first place?

my very first blog was intended to be a place for me to post all of my petz 5 animals’ profile info, but i didn’t have any understanding of how coding worked at all and i don’t think i really wanted to learn, either. so it just sat there, unused. my second attempt at blogging was as a classic rock fandom person, so as you can probably imagine i was pretty pretentious about ‘modern pop’ vs the beatles, the rolling stones, the who, the monkees, and so on. and then i slowly devolved into a lorax fandom blog and everything went to shit so i made a new blog for lord of the rings/the hobbit which later evolved to include star wars and back to the future blogging. and then for the past 4 years i’ve been mainly a musical theatre blog with other random stuff i like thrown haphazardly into the pot. wonderful.

why did you choose your icon/pfp?

because my url is transalana and two of my most prominent lgbt headcanons are that alana beck is trans and a lesbian. i gotta be shouting out @kinqmike though bc she’s the one i adopted the trans alana beck headcanon from in the first place!

why did you choose your header?

in 2017 i was hyperfixating on Dear Evan Hansen (and Be More Chill, but there weren’t many gif-able videos then considering it ran for a month in New Jersey in 2015 and there was only one yet-to-resurface 35 minute bootleg) so i just grabbed a random gif off of google. i really should get to replacing it with a new header of my own though. i just don’t know what i should do for it.

what’s your post with the most notes?

i have lost track of how many notes it has (i think it’s somewhere around 200 now?) but when Will Roland and George Salazar performed Two Player Game on Good Morning America, i posted a screencap of their Jeremy and Michael along with that one quiz answer meme that says stuff like ‘i want to see it grow up healthy’. i didn’t tag it with any ship names or anything because i was anxious about having it show up in the tags, but somebody who reblogged it from me did tag it as boyf riends and i firmly believe it took off because of that. i don’t think i make posts that are relevant enough to amass thousands of notes, even by accident. which is probably a good thing bc if i did i would have to block so many of them.

how many followers do you have?

on this blog? 175 according to the counter. how many of those are still real people and how many are bots and abandoned accounts? i have no idea.

how many people do you follow?

i try to keep it somewhere around 200. i think i’m sitting at 180 right now but i kind of need to go through and clear out the really inactive blogs.

have you made a shitpost?

let’s think about this for a second. i’ve been on tumblr for nearly 10 years. you might even be able to say i’ve made more than one. they’re just not what you would call...popular shitposts.

how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ post?

that stuff makes me so incredibly anxious that i have to fight the urge to want to yeet my laptop or mobile device through the closest window whenever i read it, so i try very hard to avoid any sort of ‘if you don’t reblog this, i’m judging you’ posts. i find them very manipulative and not particularly helpful

do you like tag games?

yeah babey!! i just frequently forget to do them, but please know that if you have ever tagged me in a tag game i felt incredibly touched by the gesture and the @mention even if i completely forgot to do the thing afterward

do you like ask games?

i do! but also rip to literally anyone who has ever sent me an ask meme bc it takes me so long to answer them. i’m still working on a micro fic prompt from a few weeks ago. also, horrified to realized that it has in fact been a few weeks and not 3 days anymore.

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

i don’t know that any are tumblr famous as a whole. but probably @neverheardnothing

do you have a crush on a mutual?

in any sort of romantic connotation? no. not that i’m aware of. there are mutuals that i have friend crushes on where i want to be friends with them but i get so anxious when it comes to meeting new people that usually nothing ever comes of it. i’m really not good at small talk or other casual conversation either which, as you may or may not be able to imagine, sucks. i just wanna skip over all of the awkward introductions and ‘hey how are you, how is life, what are you doing with yourself?’ stuff. not because i don’t care about it. i do, but i think most of my friends/the people i want to be my friends are also depressed and anxious so asking these basic questions about life tends to uh. make us all nervous. and i don’t do much with my life so i always have the most boring answers anyways.

i’m not tagging anyone officially bc the @ thing has just completely given up on me at this point, but if you want to do it, go for it. and then say i tagged you so i can read it c:

#mel.rtf #abt me #tag games

4 notes · View notes

chuckbass-love · 4 years

Note

Hi! Johnny storm request where everybody always expects the worst out of him especially when it comes to women and him proving them wrong in some way( up to you).

Hi, i’m sorry it’s taken so long for me to respond to this! But i really hope you love this and it was worth the wait. It’s not super long but i’m hoping it’s short and extra sweet.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: No particular pairing, just Johnny.

Warnings: No warnings needed for this cute shit.

Word Count: 807

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @forchrisevans go check them out💕

Prove Them Wrong

Johnny Storm is many things, a womanizer, a wind up but he’s also kind. He doesn’t let it show often though.

Almost everyone that’s ever met him, assumes the worst. It’s hard not to when he makes it so easy to do so. He flirts with women, seduces them and then moves on when he gets bored. These very actions only led his sister Susan to keep an eye on him. Watch over him if you will.

But he’s fed up, tired of the baby sitting. Tired of people portraying him as the bad guy. Because ultimately, he’s far from it.

And the womanizing days? Behind him.

He’d just had an argument with Sue about his powers, she thinks he’s becoming reckless with it. He however, disagrees. So instead of talking it out with her, he rushes off. To a bar, to forget the whole thing.

As he takes a seat, ordering his usual, he spots a gang, around his age. Drinking and playing pool and being very rowdy. He smiles to himself as he watches on.

He feels his phone buzz as he sips at his drink, it’s Sue.

‘Johnny, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it. Where are you? Please come home’

He quickly types his response ‘I’m at the bar. I’ll come home later, don’t wait up’

Might seem pathetic to some, but not to him. He’s fed up of not being taken seriously. Maybe one day he will be.

----------------------

He polishes off his 3rd drink of the night and now he’s just about ready to go. He might as well since it’s still light out. He slides the money to the bartender, slipping him some extra as a tip. But before he can leave though, Sue appears.

“You’re drunk” she spits

“Well done sister, you stated the obvious”

“Johnny i only act like this because i care”

“Yeah right” he rolls his eyes at her, refusing to believe the lies.

He shoves past her, not caring to entertain it any longer. She follows though, much to his dismay.

Alongside him leaving, one of the girls from the gang walks out too.

“You’re Johnny Storm right? And You’re Susan Storm?”

“Indeed, you a fan i take it?” he asks, raising a brow, the girl nods.

As they walk out onto the street, she follows the siblings, asking for some kind of autograph or picture. Susan denies, Johnny accepts. He signs her card that she holds out for him and soon after, she leaves. Smiling away to herself, happy.

Johnny continues to walk, ignoring Sue’s pleas for him to speak.

And when he finally goes to, the sound of yelling stops him. He turns around to find that same girl up against the wall, a man dressed in all black in front of her. It looks like he’s trying to rob her.

He rushes over, leaving his sister standing there.

“Hey, get off of her” he shouts, pushing the man away, leaving him muttering “what? don’t like it huh? don’t like being pushed around. She’s an innocent girl, leave her alone” he holds his hands up in surrender, causing Johnny to stop.

And that’s when this robber takes his chance, raising his fist to punch him, thankfully he has better reflexes than that, he grabs a hold of his fist before it can collide with his face. Using it to take the upper hand and push him onto his ass.

The girl stand behind him laughing at the action “next time you wanna try and attack somebody, especially in broad daylight, think again. Now take off before i call the police”

Susan stands there, in shock at her brothers actions. She watches on as he wraps an arm around the poor girl, ushering her inside the bar and back to her friends.

Once he returns, she raises her eyebrows “wow, Johnny Storm you have a heart after all” he fake laughs as he walks with her.

“Look, i’m sorry about how i’ve been acting lately”

“You mean the hourly check ups, the accusations and the fights?”

“Yes. All of that. I’m sorry. I just, i want the best for you, you know and i don’t know how to do that without becoming this huge dragon lady” he laughs at her, nodding his head in agreement.

“It’s fine. I’m sorry for giving you reason to. But i’m not like that anymore, as i’ve just proved you wrong and i don’t do the whole partying thing either. I just wanna go back to being your brother rather than your child”

“God i hate it when you prove me wrong and act all grown up”

They both laugh at her comment.

He’s no longer her irresponsible brother, as much as he makes poor choices sometimes. He’s a lot more grown up than he seems.

She’s proud of him.

#johhny storm #fantastic four #fantastic four rise of the silver surfer #chris evans

23 notes · View notes

mihidecet · 4 years

Text

Tibi's MCYT WritingTober, Day 15

In honour of tomorrow's festival and of this headcanon that me and @whatimevendoinhere have been thinking about for oh so long.

This is HEAVILY inspired by Lando's comic, which you can find here. If you haven't already go reblog it, it is stunning and it hurts real good!!! (Also they're running for president of mcyttumblr so ...)

From @the-only-gamer-gost 's list of prompts, here is "Male Streamer" (or "Fundy reconsiders")

At first, he was supposed to be a double agent.

Play pretend, follow orders.

Prove his loyalty, burn the flag, tear down the walls, forsake his father, erase history-

He would hide in plain sight, act as if he did belong, while he waited for the right moment. The moment to strike.

All to take down Schlatt from the inside.

But lately, things have been happening.

Weird, peculiar things that Fundy is not proud to admit are unusual.

Unusual for him at least.

One day, some time after he's rebuilt the flag in his name - hours of mining obsidian paid off in the man's appreciation - Schlatt calls for him in the middle of the day.

He takes him to Manburg, where the grass has just started growing again after they tore down the walls, and simply … walks with him. Side by side, on the path of wooden planks that somebody - probably either Bad or Eret - took the time to build.

Schlatt talks about the future, but not of his own: he explains what he plans on doing for what is left of the nation.

An office building, so that they can have a nice place to work in when (not if) there'll be more people living in their wonderful nation.

A set of apartments, because you can't have people living in the streets or in ugly houses.

Restaurants and fast food places, because "have you noticed how there's literally no food around? God bless that Bad guy, running around giving chicken to everyone, but imagine how better it would be if we were the ones selling!"

And then, once they've reached the end of the walkway, Schlatt puts an arm around his shoulder and turns them both around, so that they're staring at what is left of L'Manburg. For a moment, Fundy doesn't see the missing pieces, but the potential for what there could be- how could he not when he's spent the past fifteen minutes listening to plans and projects.

"So, what do you think? Do you have anything to add? Any suggestions?" Schlatt asks, and Fundy's brain struggles to comprehend the question. As he struggles with coming up with an answer and the realisation of how bad it is that such a simple question threw him for such a loop, he manages to stutter out a simple:

"I- uh- I don't know?"

Schlatt sighs, almost exasperated, but instead of letting go, he just squeezes his shoulders tighter for a moment and waves his hand towards the space in front of them.

"Come on, Fundy, don't give me that bull! I know you've got a good brain in your head, I'm asking for ideas, not self doubt!"

And it sticks to Fundy, like a gum to the shoe. It sticks to him, and he doesn't forget, even as he lets himself be swept up in the enthusiasm of thinking up new plans.

A couple of days later, they have a meeting scheduled to talk about plans for the future and … recent events. There have been some incursions lately, things disappearing, paths being broken, questionable wooden signs being placed, and everyone’s a little on edge.

As everyone presents their pieces of information, Fundy stands to Schlatt’s right.

Tubbo is his right hand man, Quackity is his second in command, but the president himself had insisted on him staying close.

“You're a good fighter, I trust you to keep me safe" he'd flippantly explained, waving a hand towards him as he fixed some papers, missing Fundy's shocked and awed expression. Responsibility. It’s all he’d ever wanted, so he’d quickly made his way towards him and stood a little straighter.

And nobody had batted an eye, so there Fundy stands, one hand on his netherite sword, listening to the meeting while his eyes keep scanning their surroundings.

It’s not like Pogtopia is going to attack them in broad daylight, they’re not that desperate yet. So Fundy can focus on his job, keep the president safe and make him proud- gain his trust. Gain his trust, of course. He already trusts him enough to keep him as his own personal guard, Fundy is doing really well.

With a small tap on his side, Schlatt catches his attention and gestures to the blueprints for a newly acquired project, waiting for approval.

Lately, Fundy's been thinking.

He’s left Manburg for an afternoon, told nobody where he was going, and just walked through the forest for a while. He felt like a bit of time away would clear his head.

That was definitely what he needed: time to think.

Instead, as he walks and listens to the sound of the world around him, his head is simply empty. Not a bothersome kind of empty, just a simplicity, an easiness, like a burden leaving his shoulders.

Not like the burden in his backpack, resting like a stone ready to be cast against himself if anyone were to find it.

His heart would want him to remember a simpler time, when he didn't spend every day of his life fearing for the moment that will give him away and reveal him as a traitor- and at the same time, he's hoping to be found out to be one, so that he can stop pretending, stop living a lie that has started to fit too well, too perfectly, too comfortably for his own good.

Maybe Wilbur was right to take away his options, maybe he shouldn't be allowed to work for Schlatt anymore, maybe that would stop the thunderstorm in his mind and heart.

To be fair, there hasn't been a time of peace on the server since … since the beginning. Or maybe just since he was born. Should that make a difference to him?

A rustle of leaves makes him jump in his skin, but it's just the chestnut coloured nose of a fox to peek through the overgrown grass and dark pines. His heart aches for Fungi.

Maybe it did make a difference, how all he's known since he was born is war and conflict.

Maybe he deserves some rest, some quietness. Some stability.

An authoritative figure that doesn't dismiss his ideas - no, now is not the time for remorse. Not when he's about to cut all of these feelings loose.

The forest around him gives way to an endless field, and in the distance he sees the ocean.

Fundy doesn’t know if he should, if what he’s about to do is the right choice, but he knows he’s going to do it anyway.

He stares at the brown tint of his spy diary as it sinks into the ocean, words being lost forever, and he thinks.

Maybe Schlatt is not half as bad.

#mcyt writingtober #itsfundy #fundy #jschlatt #lando2020

19 notes · View notes

digitalangels · 4 years

Note

Hi, I was wondering if you would be able to help me: so, I recently reinstalled sims 2 on my laptop after years of stopping because with the new windows and all, we all had to do the 4gb patch and using no cd cracks, etc, but after doing allll that, my sims still takes about 5+ for it to go past the loading screen. So I was wondering if you could possibly dm me(you don’t have to!) and help me figuring it out? I would appreciate it greatly ! 💜✨

I’m not the right person to help with Windows 10 problems (at least I suppose with new Windows you mean 10), I literally downgraded my computer to Windows 8.1 after getting sick of constantly having to fight with Windows 10 and that solved most of the problems I had with the game and this computer. That’s obviously awful idea since it’s only going to be few more years before Microsoft will drop the support for Windows 8 too so they can push Windows 10 on everyone. :/

Here’s some generally helpful Sims 2 tutorials though, maybe one will help you?

Sims 2 Pink Flash & Crash FIX - by Marasims

Tweaks to Graphic Rules file that helped me with The Sims 2 crashing and flashing (Win7 + Nvidia card) - by Episims

How to use hardware rendered smooth edges for TS2 (to make the game run smoother!) - by TwoFingersWhiskey

The graphics related FAQ topics at Leefish (can’t link just one, but for example make sure your graphics card is being recognized by the game)

Crashing - How to Stop Sims 2 Crashing (Memory Allocation Fix and 4GB Patch Repair) - by TheJessaChannel (I use the standby memory fix from this tutorial (The Windows 10 Update Bug and Fix) since my computer also keeps on adding and adding to the standby memory never releasing it, definitely try that one out if you haven’t already :) ) They also tell you how to test if the 4gb patch is really working there, mine wasn’t and I had no idea D: It’s unnecessary to swap them between folders but disable the compatibility mode since that seems to undo the patch)

LAG Issues - Possible Solutions - by celebkiriedhel (test the setting CPU Count to 1 or 2)

If anybody else has other useful tutorials / tips to add feel free to reblog / comment.

But for what it’s worth: my loading times are closer to 10 minutes long, they’ve always been and I’ve just considered it pretty normal, it’s an old game and really not optimized to work on newer Windows versions. Amount of custom content etc of course adds to the loading times, as well as amount of folders in your Downloads folder and how deeply they’re foldered. So ten folders directly in the Downloads folder is better than having folder1> inside it folder2 > inside it folder3 and so on.

I hope you don’t mind me replying to this publicly, I figured that this way somebody more knowledgeable might see this post and chime in. :)

#I have no idea if any of this is helpful #but I hope so ^^;#tutorial #sort of #theteensims25

30 notes · View notes

misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 4 years

Text

POSITIVE 20 QUESTIONS TAG GAME

I was tagged by @peanutbutterandgrapejelly. Thank you for the tag, Peanut, this seems pretty loaded, but in a good way, so here goes!!

1. Name 4 fictional characters who showcase your personality the best, with explanations if you want.

Sue Heck! I don't think I let all of it out, but on the inside, I constantly feel like I'm extremely Sue Heck-y, :')

Amy Santiago, in a lot of regards, I'll say. Uh, cares a lot about her friends, ambitious, and would basically die/murder for organization, but also socially awkward and, uh, mostly percepted as a goody-two-shoes. Also, true nerd™.

Mindy Lahiri! (I mean, again, this seems more of a who I feel like I am, and not who I come across as, cause those two things tend to differ on a variety of levels?)

Sam Winchester (you know I had to) Basically, we're both INFJs. I'm not even close to his level, but my brain officially ran out of characters so uh, empathetic, constantly interpreted as "boring" and the "brains", patient, *yearns to settle down with someone they love*, believes in second chances. The whole nine, but toned down XD

2. Aesthetic:

I'd usually have a hard time with this one, but I recently did a long thing about my aesthetic, so! I'm going to say, soft pastel, beige, and shades of white!! A tinge of light academia, but mostly unassumingly modern, and faded rainbows as watermarks.

3. Favorite musical/play? If you've never seen a musical or play, one you'd be interested in seeing?

You got me ~ never seen any. (I mean, school plays don't count, right?) I honestly have a bunch of musicals I want to see, recommendations from friends online, but somehow it always slips my mind. But, off the top of my head, @spot-the-brooklyn-pirate wanted me to check this one out, and I am looking forward to actually doing it sometime: Book of Mormon.

4. What's the best compliment you've ever received?

Mostly, anyone who says I, in any way, made them happy, literally gives me the best compliment ever. And uh, my sister called me inspiring once, and it stuck. When I nagged her into elaborating, she said she thought I was functional in spite of all my flailings, and self-analytic, and it didn't make sense to me, but I still think about that.

And a few people, over the course of time, have named some of my fics as their favorites, and those stay with me for a very long time.

5. How many times have you been in love?

Hardly once. She's still one of the most important people in the world to me, but as somebody great once said, if you don't fight for it, it doesn't count. And we didn't.

6. Embarrassing story or fact about yourself which now makes you laugh?

By far the most embarrassing thing I've ever done, is written a fic on wattpad which revolved around my own life, except for the fact that it really, really didn't. Long story shortened, I was in sixth grade, and had a surface-level-y crush on this guy, and it seemed like a brilliant idea at the time. In the story, we're all in senior year, though the authoress forgot pretty much all the real things about school XD it's not just cringy, but also extremely sixth-grade-y written, and it astounds me to this day that it went on to have like 18,000 views? (I managed to block the entire shtick out, until a few months back, when I randomly remembered and rushed to unpublish the work. *facepalm* it even had all our real names)

7. Favorite Disney/Pixar movie?

This one's so hard. Uh. Ratatouille, maybe?

8. Favorite flower/plant?

I regret having to confess that I probably don't have one :( but hey, my go-to answer for these ones is daisies, because they remind me of the lovely @daisy-jeon <3

9. What's your favorite holiday?

Holi :')

(I miss it being like the older times, though? Somehow it always clashes with my final exams these last few years, and Shelley is often not home, but it still really makes me happy, so just imagine how perfect it used to be, when I was a kid!!)

10. Name three things that made you smile/laugh this past week.

Rewatching The French Mistake!! A really great decision, haha!

The lovely comments an older fic of mine received, (about old Destiel, uwu) since a couple of big blogs happened to reblog it 🙈🙈🙈 and my activity started blowing up!!

A full-blown coffee high, which resulted in me being hilarious through a 98-message monologue to dish, eeeeee!!

11. What song would you play to introduce yourself to someone?

I'd been dreading this question the most, because I'm horrible at remembering good songs when I - need to be. Oofsies.

But I guess I could wing it with 'What About Us' by P!nk.

12. Name something that truly makes you peaceful even at your most stressful moments.

Writing about Character A of a ship going through said stressful moment, and Character B being the best possible responder to all of it. Projection's the key to functionality, kids.

13. What do you, did you, or would you study at college?

Would you, and will you, sound unfortunately like different questions to me, so I'm going to answer the one which is asked. I'd like to major in History, with a minor in English. (And to be crude for a bit, as my sister calls it, thus successfully be left solely employable as a teacher.)

14. This is kind of a weird one, but which outfit of yours makes you feel most like yourself?

My black Avenger's logo t-shirt, with this pink hooded, kinda-down-past-my-hips, not-warm-at-all jacket and any one of my numerous, mwuahaha, grey shorts.

I never said I'd go out of the house in that outfit, did I?

15. What is a quote you live by?

I don't think there aren't any. I'm just here, faking it till I make it. Still, if I had to choose? Misha's "Be Kind to Yourself so You can be Happy enough to Be Kind to Others" is something I aspire to live by.

16. Name the funniest playlist name you have.

I'm sad that I don't have any funnily named ones now. Sorry to disappoint, but I'm hoping that it counts a teensy bit that I have like seven playlists just for background shtuff when I'm working, and they're all named *extremely* similarly, with variations of the word "study" basically, but all have exceptionally different vibes.

But I really am sorry, and I'm going to try and up my playlist-humor-game.

17. Make a reference to an inside joke you have with someone you love with zero context.

'Time for tapwater'.

18. What is a message you'd give your younger self if given a chance?

Don't build your sense of self-worth over the people whose opinions you think matter. You don't have to get everybody to like you. (Oh, and probably don't switch between multiple first-person-pov's, even though you're just writing the most unrealistic self-indulgent fiction EVER.)

19. Who is your favorite family member? (If you have no good blood family members, feel free to mention someone in your found family)

Hands down, my sister. Shelley, didi, @iamcharliebradburylevelperfect, you're like the best part of my life, and you're probably going to be the longest part of it, too. Cause we might not have the best record for funny titles to call each other by, but we still nail the cheesy till the end of the line moments, ;)

20. What's a secret dream of yours?

I, uh. Want to run a completely-revolutionalizing-the-concept-of-education-style school ~ a boarding school actually, with my best friend dish. And as a means to acquire funds for it? We're going to do a whole lotta stand-up. :D

(Oh, and since i've already rambled for at least a thousand words, so what's the harm in a few more? At some point, probably on my birthday, I want to do a YouTube livestream, a pre-planned one of course, and everybody I've ever been frens with, on this dumb, wholesome hellsite???? They're all sent an invitation to join!! And there's nothing to do, really, we just talk and everyone's enjoying themselves, and I dunno, I had a dream about this once, and I've been so ridiculously smitten with the idea since!

Huh, maybe I could rally forces starting now, to make this possible by my eighteenth!!)

If anyone would like to play, these are really awesome questions! @3dg310rdsupreme @mystybloo @thotfordean @bcozwhythefuknot @theninthdutchessofhell @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat @quicksilver-ships @all-or-nothing-baby @screamatthescreen @telefunkies @elvenlicht @facepalmmylifeu @specialagentrin @noemithenephilim @but-for-the-gods-three-days

#l o n g #long post #about me #i finally did it #stuff about me

17 notes · View notes

andiandyandee · 4 years

Text

We Are Going to Be Friends Pt. 8

Check it out, I finished the stupid chapter, and it’s not even angsty. (Or in other words, the chapter where we establish that Roman and Logan are completely hopeless and also Logan is soft (tm)

Words: 1681

Here’s the Series on a03

Heres the last part

Tag List: @datfearlessfangirl @princemesscharming @illogicalthinking @holliberries

Let me know if you want tagged! Please Reblog this, without reblogs I don’t get feedback and without feedback you can expect fewer chapters because I’m less motivated to write.

Anyway here’s the fic:

By the time they actually finished working through Remus’s English work, it was dark outside, and the crowd downstairs had grown considerably. Where there had at one point been only a few, there were now easily twenty teenagers downstairs. When Logan and Remus walked into the living room, the crowd was, in fact, singing broadway songs. Remus adamantly refused to join in, and Logan didn’t know them, so he too just watched them sing, slightly bemused. Once they had ordered pizza, 10 of them, as a matter of fact, the songs died down and the whole group was mostly just laying around, several conversations happening at once. Logan wasn’t speaking to anyone in particular, occasionally making a quip or answering a question, but mostly just curled up on the couch, glad to be anywhere but at his parents' house.

His relaxation was cut short by Kai flopping down on the couch next to him, his head in Logan’s lap.

“Give me attention.” Kai groaned, shifting uncomfortably. Logan instinctively started playing with his hair, which is what he usually did with Alex when she got like this, but he couldn’t help noticing the way Kai was grimacing as he tried to get comfortable.

“Are you… In pain?” Logan asked quietly, handing Kai a pillow to help elevate his back a bit.

“Oh. Wait, give me less attention than that.” Logan raised an eyebrow, “It’s fine, just EDS.” Kai replied, obviously hoping Logan would either be too embarrassed to ask or too proud to admit he didn’t know something.

“Oh, do you have your braces? Or pain meds you need to take? I would be willing to get them for you.” Kai looked at him, mostly shocked, but also confused.

“You know what EDS is? How do you know I even wear braces, maybe I don’t.”

“Yes, I am vaguely familiar with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, as a member of my typical social group also has it, though theirs is the vascular kind, rather than the classic type you appear to have. And based on the constant bruises to your hands, wrists, elbows, which are all in the shape of typical bracing equipment, along with the fact that you regularly wear long sleeves or gloves to hide your braces when you do wear them,” Kai made a face at that, “plus you are, currently, wearing a knee brace, I thought it might be an easy jump to make.” Logan had kept his voice so low, it was unlikely even Remus, the closest to the pair, could hear them.

“My meds would be great, but I don’t want them to see me in my braces. I’ll put them on before I go to sleep.” Logan pinched his face up, but with the benefit of being exceptionally tall, he also had a far longer reach than most, which meant he easily grabbed Kai’s bag, handing it to him.

“These people are your friends, you know. They wouldn’t mind you wearing something to make you more comfortable. It’s not embarrassing to show that your strength sometimes needs a little help.”

“Don’t you mean it’s not embarrassing to show weakness?” Kai grumbled, sitting up.

“Did I say it’s not embarrassing to show weakness? I don’t think I did. It’s horribly embarrassing to show weakness, I would know.” He grinned conspiratorially at Kai’s confusion, “Remus saw me cry like an infant less than 12 hours after meeting me. This,” Logan gestured at the braces and pills in Kai’s bag, ignoring the way Kai looked at him when he admitted that little tidbit of information, “this is not weakness. It is incredible, but vulnerable, strength. And there is no shame in them knowing that you are strong, even if you need braces to, as my acquaintance October would say, ‘kick someone’s ass’.” Kai turned slightly red, mumbled something about kicking his ass if he didn’t stop with the feelings, and pulled his wrist and hand braces out of his bag.

Kai had eventually gone back to the floor, now trying and failing to flirt with a girl Logan didn’t know but thought might be named Lauren. Remus had moved closer to Logan, leaning against the couch and was occasionally making subdued quips about something ridiculous. Mostly just random facts or commentary on the things the group was doing.

“Lo! What music do you listen to?” Roman was holding his phone, clearly looking for something to put on. Logan turned red, realizing that pretty much any song he enjoyed would not work with this crowd as it did with his usual acquaintances.

“I.. don’t think any songs on my average playlist would be suitable for this particular group of people.” Roman nodded, as if that made sense.

“Ah, Logan likes that pg-13 music. Should have guessed that.” Logan rolled his eyes, but Roman put on Fall Out Boy with a smirk, and Logan shrugged.

“My typical music tastes are a little more.. riot starting than this, but sure.” Roman raised an eyebrow at that comment, and then grinned in a way not unlike Remus’s smile, too wide, a little maniacal.

“Logan Whatever-Your-Middle-Name-Is Starr I refuse to believe you have ever, once in your life been involved in a riot. You’re definitely a ‘Use Your Words’ kind of guy.” Logan replied, without thinking, with the same joke his friend group made every time someone said they ‘seemed like the type to use their words.’

“Urine Speaks Louder Than Words,” and then, as if they weren’t already the exact opposite of what the group expected, he followed it up with, “Besides, cops, Nazis, bigots, and assholes all respond better to being kicked in the face.” The chunk of the group who was listening all had wide eyes, but Remus was trying to hold back tears. He was laughing so hard he wasn’t making noise, just tiny, wheezing breaths every few seconds. “I uh... Mean... yes, certainly, a debate is the reasonable course of action to achieve our goals.”

“Remind me to not piss you off.” Roman squeaked, his cheeks and ears a little red. Logan, who was trying to avoid eye contact, took this as fear, and immediately went to assure Roman that he would not hurt him, but then somebody got the idea to play truth or dare, which Logan politely declined participation in, which mean of course he was now sitting in a circle on the floor playing.

“Logan! Truth or Dare?” Dahlia asked with the slightly evil grin most of the group had when asking Logan or Roman to do anything. He had a feeling they were trying to accomplish something, though Logan could not for the life of him figure out what it was.

“Oh, Dare, I suppose.” Logan shrugged. So far they had dared him to demonstrate his “Strength” by lifting Roman bridal style, had him recite Shakespearean sonnets dramatically, and sing “Fall for You” which was a little too emo for Logan, but several of the group seemed to know. The truths were far more awkward, like asking him his favorite eye color, which was brown, his sexuality, which was queer with no more specifics, if he had any crushes, which he had admitted he hadn’t thought about and did not have an answer for.

“Let me do your makeup!” She demanded, already pulling a makeup bag from behind her.

“That’s fine, I suppose. Are you planning on using foundation or eyeliner?” She nodded

“Yeah, probably. I have some lighter foundation I use on Elliot sometimes.” Logan rolled his eyes, Grabbing his own bag.

“That won't be necessary, we can use mine. I’m far paler than Elliot. And much cooler-toned, at that.” Roman was looking pink and starry-eyed again.

“You.. you wear makeup?” He asked in a small voice.

“Yes, I often wear foundation or concealer, and wear eyeliner regularly on weekends.” He gestured at his face, which now that Roman was looking at it closely, he could see that there was makeup there. Logan looked at Dahlia with a neutral expression. “Would you prefer I take mine off before you begin?” She nodded.

He went into the washroom and removed his foundation, which left his dark circles and light freckles visible. He scrunched up his nose at his appearance before coming back into the living room, where Dahlia had turned the lights on in, and everyone had dismantled the truth or dare circle. “Are.. we no longer doing truth or dare?” Logan asked with a confused look around.

“No, I think we’re just going to do makeovers now. All the straight boys are offended about it.” Dahlia grinned as Logan sat down. “Jesus, Lo, have you ever slept in your life? You look like Remus with those circles.” Logan rolled his eyes fondly, handing her his make-up, which was really just foundation, concealer, powder, and eyeliner. She got to work, walking him through what she was doing, though he had to admit he wasn’t paying much attention. Roman was getting his makeup done by Elliot, Remus was doing someone's makeup, but Logan hadn’t cared to remember their name. The night was domestic, a few more jokes about Logan’s comment, twenty minutes of laughter when Dahlia revealed Logan’s makeup and Roman choked on his drink, barely getting out an ‘it looks good’ before he left to get a shower and change to clean up after spitting orange soda into his lap. Logan had felt mostly embarrassed at that, not sure why Roman had had such a negative reaction in the first place. He thought the makeup was well done, though perhaps the red lips and dark blue glitter eyeshadow was a little more dramatic than he was used to. They watched movies until it was nearly light outside, which Logan complained about, only a little since he had plans in the morning, and when Logan left at 9 AM, picked up by Micheal, one of the seniors Logan hung out with most often, in the 1986 pick-up that was more rust than it was metal at this point, he was in a relatively good mood.

#logan sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #logince #eventual logince #teen au #punk au #sanders sides #men in makeup #discussions of illness #discussions of fighting #ask to tag #ask to be tagged //#my writing

17 notes · View notes

hecohansen31 · 4 years

Text

Don’t Fight Fire With A Sword

Alfred The Great+Kathleen (OC)

Wearing A Warning Sign:

“You say Come over baby I think you're pretty I'm okay I'm not your baby If you think I'm pretty”

“You should see me in a crown” by Billie Ellish.

(Previous Chapter) (Masterlist)

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

I know I haven’t been able to upload a lot of stuff lately and I have been mostly focusing on the series that sadly haven’t been getting a lot of attention, because they are the ones that have been left behind.

I am not going to lie, I am least inclined to do them, because of the lack of feedback gaining from them, mostly because I constantly think that nobody will read them, so if you are reading this story and you liked it, I wanted to ask if you could support me with a simple reblog and comment, because I am truly truly looking forward to know what you thought about it.

Please don’t forget that feedback makes our heart beat stronger and our fingers write faster!

SUMMARY: Trying to convince Alfred to save her sister might be much more difficult than Kathleen had planned, even more when the heathens’ plans come crashing against her own (Set up between the ‘Smart Saviour’ and ‘The Betrayed Ruler’, from my fic ‘To Kill a King’)

WORDS: 3, 7 K

WARNINGS: Mention of Violence and Domestic Abuse, Court Plotting, Arranged Marriage, Historically Inaccurate and maybe character being a bit OOC (I am sorry for that).

Liked What You Read? Want To Support Me? Buy Me A Ko-Fi!

More than a week had passed, and you were still Ivar’s wife and Kathleen hadn’t found a solution yet, that would have brought you home.

To your rightful home.

Although she had caught the king’s attention, she hadn’t convinced him to do much about your ‘problem’, since Alfred seemed focused only on the ‘best for his country’.

‘I do understand that you miss your sister…’ his eyes told you that he didn’t and if the entire story about Aethelred’s death was true, he had no way of truly knowing whatr it meant to miss a sister as much as you missed air ‘… but princess (Y/N) has done what she had to do for our country, the great Wessex… it is a sacrifice but it had to be made’.

‘You make it seem so grand and strong’ had replied Kathleen, as she hid her mouth and words it held in the cape of her long mantle ‘… but in reality it was nothing more than throwing her to the dogs’.

‘What would you expect me to do, princess?’ had shot back Alfred with a violence in his reply that only matched the tiredness she had noticed in her eyes ‘… if he had asked of me, I would have gladly marched over, willingly to his camping, but he didn’t… he chose your sister and she knew what would be the best choice’.

‘As if she had one’ the words had burned on Kathleen’s chest.

Because it wasn’t solely your injustice.

It was hers.

And Abigail’s.

Alfred had noticed immediately how truly bothered she had been, and Kathleen hadn’t wanted to continue the conversation that day, although she was well aware that Alfred would soon go back to his lands.

She didn’t know if she had to wish for that.

Or if she wanted him to stay.

Although he hadn’t done much for his sister, he certainly was one of the few that matched her brain and chatter.

Somebody that made her feel like an equal and not simply the dirt beneath their shoes.

Like her father.

He had noticed immediately how much time she had been spending with Alfred and that same night he had decided to act upon it, since he didn’t like his daughter meddling in his business.

‘What are you doing around the prince?’ he had asked her, after he had gotten her to meet him in his own private chambers ‘… you aren’t one to whore out your body easily, you never were… sometimes I thought it’d be easier for me, if you were, instead, like that’.

‘You already sold a daughter to the best offerer, isn’t it enough?’ she had retorted, seeing her father’s anger grow in his eyes and she had welcomed it gladly.

Rage made her feel reactive and made something similar to fire run in her veins.

It made her feel strong.

And she would have taken everything instead of the small scared child she had always felt before she started to fight back.

It didn’t matter that he would hit her harder if he she reacted.

She just didn’t want to be weak.

She would never be weak again.

But that night her father played dirty tricks once he had reduced her to nothing more than a bloody pulp.

‘Sometimes I wish that you’d be more like your mother…’ he had commented as he cleaned his hands in the basin of water he kept in his private chambers.

It had become a darker shade of marron due to the blood in it.

But it wasn’t only Kathleen’s blood.

She had made her father bleed and it was already a victory.

‘… she never fought me back, don’t you know? She was smart’ he had seemed to want to remember her mother, dirtying her memory, as Kathleen tried another weak attempt to attack him just to shut him up.

But he had punched her in the gut, making her vomit the small meal she had consumed with him ‘… your sister (Y/N)… they are similar, not only in the appearance… but I wonder…’.

And then he had shot the final blow.

‘I wonder if she also begs when he hits her’.

She had just been able to push herself away from the room as her father snickered aggressively almost turning in a choked cough for the harshness of it.

She had tried to shield her brain from it, from the intrusive images her father had filled her mind with.

But it hadn’t worked.

And she had fallen asleep with the thought of screaming that sounded at the same time like her mother and her sister.

That morning she had overslept till an obsessive knocking had brought her to drag her ass away from bed.

The previous night she hadn’t even been able to take care to her body, although she knew that nothing would show up on her face.

It was the only way a lady was properly beaten.

Never damage the precious goods.

Abigail still looked too concerned with whatever troubled her to notice Kathleen’s slumped walk, as she moved to lean on the door to avoid fall on her ass.

She had been the one knocking and she had an urgent light in her eyes.

“… they… they accused her of poisoning him” the words of Abigail were of one filled with pure panic, as she reacted almost hysterically.

“Sister… I don’t… I don’t understand you” spoke Kathleen as she invited her sister inside, mostly to be able to lean properly on a bed, as Abigail finally seemed to remember what was going truly behind her message.

“… it’s (Y/N)!” Kathleen’s ears immediately opened as she looked fully at her sister’s distressed face “… they accused her of having poisoned Ivar”.

“It is impossible” that was Kathleen’s first response.

You wouldn’t have done such a horrendous act.

And if you had, you wouldn’t have been surely discovered.

You had always been the smart sister.

“… Heahmund just wrote a letter” explained Abigail “… but a few days have passed since it first travelled”.

“They wouldn’t dishonor an English princess” again her words seemed only rightful “… they wouldn’t touch a single hair of hers”.

But at the same time her father’s words came back at her.

‘I wonder if she also begs when her husband hits her’.

She remembered Ivar’s growl as (Y/N) had moved to lower herself to grab the fallen ring, although had been gentle with her.

The promise he had made to Kathleen certainly wasn’t forgotten.

But how much was the value of a heathen’s word, truly?

‘Please God, I never asked you anything, I know I denied Your existence when mother died, but right now if my sister is even solely scratched, know that I’ll curse Your name and burn down Your fucking churches’.

She would have killed Ivar, for it, after she had burned all the churches in her kingdom.

“How did you know of the letter?” asked Kathleen suddenly, knowing that there was much more behind it “… did it arrive to you? Or did you hear about it…?”.

“Father received it, meanwhile we were having breakfast” explained Abigail, her eyes suddenly shining “… he and Alfred are having a council together, right now, father wasn’t… father isn’t happy with (Y/N)”.

“… when will he ever be” Kathleen spoke biting her lips to cease feeling pain as she tried to focus on what to do next.

Barging in the council would have certainly worked.

And even if she did that, what would she have said.

‘Go and retrieve my sister form that fucking heathens’ hands’ wouldn’t have been proper, but neither sweet words would have worked.

They were all she had used with Alfred.

She had to pass to diplomacy.

“Help me get dressed” she ordered to Abigail, as instead her sister’s eyes were set onto her bloodied sheets and Kathleen had to lightly shook her “… Abigail, I can’t barge in my nightgown”.

“You can barely move for all I care” she retorted, with a truly worried look.

“I’ll be fine” breathed out Kathleen as she flicked her fingers at her sister “… now bring me my red robe, I am going to war”.

---

Her entrance had been quite less impressive than she had thought, although Alfred had moved to look up at her, immediately, before ducking his eyes again on the maps that had been pulled out on the table.

And her father didn’t look in the slightest surprised.

“… my daughter, you missed breakfast”.

“I felt unwell” she commented tightly, as she shot him a light look, as if to say ‘because of you’ “… but now I am here, and I am worried about my sister”.

“Your sister has just won us a rather troublesome headache” although her father’s words were slow and soft, almost meant to make his advisors and Alfred laugh, his eyes held a deeper violence and rage.

(Y/N) had done a mistake and now their father was paying for it.

You had disappointed him.

“My sister is under process for something you made her do”.

It was an accuse and suddenly silence fell in the room.

It was a challenge for her father that immediately asked all the advisors to leave the room, except Alfred, on whom he hadn’t any power.

“Sweet girl of mine, I won’t let you insult me in front of my advisors” he spoke, hissing through his teeth with a harshness that didn’t go unnoticed even to Alfred, who tried to shift the attention away from you.

“This isn’t a game of blame” he spoke, as his youngish charm became an older and kinglier strength “… (Y/N)’s life, your sister and daughter, is at risk”.

“Thank you for pointing out what is truly important” Kathleen commented, as she thanked Alfred also with her eyes and he simply smiled before looking at her father.

“… we can’t simply let this go unnoticed, not solely to save her, but also because it’d just make the Vikings think that they can touch one of us, without getting punished” explained the king of Wessex, as the slight smirk on your father’s face disappeared.

“She isn’t one of us, anymore” muttered Kathleen’s father, keeping the words tight in his mouth, although Alfred caught on them, a true expression of shock on his face, hence it was Kathleen who brought attention to them.

“She is” she protested loudly “… she is a Saxon, an English princess, and she belongs to us”.

“She probably has a child of a heathen already in his belly, if the rumors are true” her father retorted “… he has tainted her already with his heathen’s way”.

Kathleen almost wished to let his father know of his son-in-law’s shortcomings, but she bit her lips and let Alfred separate them again, as this time an harsh look was sent her father’s way, effectively hitting him in his pride.

“What princess Kathleen says is true” confirmed Alfred “… she might have married prince Ivar, but that doesn’t diminish her in any way. I swore to protect her after everything was done and the heathens’ power over our land is destroyed, but that also involves the time she spends in the settlements”.

Your father didn’t look so smug now that he was defeated.

“… we’ll have to think of something” spoke Alfred, harshly, as he invited Kathleen to sit, taking in her lightly trembling figure, as he also helped her in the chair, adjusting it behind her, his finger lightly brushing against her back, with a gentleness that didn’t belong to his steely eyes “… first of all, what does the letter truly say”.

Her father threw it at Alfred, his eyes bored but scanning roughly over the sense of companionship that was slowly building up between Alfred and Kathleen, the latter surprised that the king of Wessex asked her to join in his reading.

‘Two eyes are better than one’.

And although sadly the letter seemed true, what had been left out by the hysterical Abigail was that you hadn’t been already processed, but you had been trialed on charges of attempted poisoning Ivar.

The verdict was still out.

“… this seems ridiculous” explained Kathleen to Alfred, who looked at her truly attentively “… (Y/N) is careful, if she had tried to poison him, she wouldn’t have been caught believe me”.

“I didn’t think that your sister owned such a brain” had commented her father, the third wheel of the appointment between Kathleen and Alfred.

“She must have been involved in some heathen plot, unwillingly” commented Alfred.

“But why?” Kathleen replied.

“To undermine our hold on them?” suggested Alfred, although he looked at it thoughtfully “… I have also heard that there have been some problematic fights between the sons of Ragnar, so that isn’t even to put off. Somebody might have wanted to undermine Ivar’s claim and they used her against him”.

“Thinking about that won’t still solve anything, if we stay here without doing nothing” commented tightly Kathleen “… they might put her to death, if they haven’t already”.

“We can’t just march soldiers in there” explained Alfred “… it’ll be considered an act of war”

“… and I won’t give you any men to send there for this crazy idea” rumbled her father, not that it got him much attention.

“We do not have to send an entire army, but we need to reinforce our hold on them” counterattacked Kathleen, and suddenly Alfred’s eyes were set up on her determination, something that made her blush lightly “… what I mean… what I mean is that we don’t have to make it seem like more than a casual encounter? Don’t you have soldiers on those borders?”

“… now that you make me think about it I do” remembered the king, before he grabbed onto Kathleen’s hands, something that made her blush spread further “… I’ll tell them to move there immediately, in the meanwhile do reply to bishop Heahmund to hold on and be heard”.

Kathleen’s father, to whom that phrase was shot at, didn’t look in the slightest pleased by being ordered around and he endured it with a smirk that spoke of pure annoyance.

And Kathleen shot him one back.

A victorious one.

But her sister still wasn’t safe.

---

After her resistance to her father she had moved back in her room to let Abigail know of Alfred’s interest in this.

Although he hadn’t uttered any word to make (Y/N) come home, he certainly had sided with her, which was already one step forward.

Although it didn’t calm her anxious heart.

You were going to be trialed.

And this made Kathleen nervous.

Although you did have Heahmund on your side, you would have been trialed by a jury of heathens, hence the process wouldn’t have been in your favor and neither it would have been something that you had knowledge of.

Kathleen had just to trust in Heahmund, you and the armies Alfred would have sent to defend you and bring you home, the most extreme case he had thought about, although your father had denied that option immediately.

‘She��d be a rejected wife, a true shame for this honorable household’ he had complained, but Alfred had shown to have had enough of Kathleen’s father annoying replies.

‘Your daughter has honored us through accepting to put her life on the line for information from the Vikings’ he had reminded Kathleen’s father ‘… if we have to welcome her back, after this, we will, gladly’.

She had enjoyed the tight expression on her father’s face.

And that was what was keeping her upright, no matter the injuries all over her body and the threat over her sister’s head.

She couldn’t do much for her sister, but she could do even less with the pain that shot through her body.

She hadn’t been allowed to join Alfred’s border troupes, both because it wouldn’t have been a conflict of interests and both for the fact that it had been thoroughly dangerous.

So, she decided to bind the few broken bones in her chest, mostly because she knew for experience that they would have healed on their own, although it’d be nothing but a painful experience.

Her father knew perfectly where to hit her.

She heard a knocking on the door, and gently hurried to finish the binding, quickly wearing an ample nightgown to avoid anything weighting on the binding, since the corset had already left its signs, only stealing painfully your breath.

She expected it to be some maid or someone tasked with spying over her by her father, since she had been quite bold with her affirmations and her control freak of a father would have gladly done everything he could to regain some semblance of order and power over her.

But instead it turned out to be king Alfred.

“Are you lost again, my king” Kathleen teased him, having grown quite fascinated with the way his cheeks flushed.

“I…” he searched for words, as his pink togue wet his full lips.

He certainly had a beauty in himself that made him as tantalizing as sin.

“… not this time” he promised “… I just wanted to check on you, you didn’t look your best, at the council”.

“Thank you for pointing out that I look like shit” uttered back Kathleen, faking an offended tone.

But she wasn’t truly, although some feminine instinct in her wanted to look her best for him.

She didn’t know what made him blush, the thought of having truly offended her or the curse she had uttered.

“… you never look like… you know what, princess Kathleen” he shot back, although his eyes didn’t meet hers, his voice was true “… but I couldn’t help but notice that you were limping, this morning”.

“I just fell from the bed” ‘and onto my father’s fists’.

It was the most common of excuse she had given out.

Usually people didn’t ask more, because they weren’t truly interested.

Kathleen had known since she had been able to read that people would have never ever truly loved her for what she was.

And they never would.

They faked their interest in her, because she would have been their future queen, since she was the sole heir to her father.

That was also the reason why she had been an utter and complete mess with her suitors, making one after the other run away.

It was the last rebellion she could give before it was too late.

“… that seems…” Alfred was smarter than anybody around her, so he probably knew that she was lying to him but maintained her secrecy “… I am sorry that you hurt yourself, princess”.

In the end, he chose not to get involved.

But his eyes asked of what he could do to help her.

“I was binding myself up to avoid any broken ribs” she explained, as she moved to the gauze left on the bed where she was laying “… I have a few cuts on my legs to take care of, would you be so kind to get me some salve from my beside table”.

Alfred seemed to understand that, although she appreciated his presence, she wanted a bit of privacy and as any normal royal attendant, he moved to the beside table, leaving her to tighten privately the gauze around her chest, as she hissed a shaky breath, Alfred’s shoulders quaking at that sound.

He almost made to turn around, but then his resolve was stronger, and he froze, moving to search in the drawers.

His ears became red as he found only scandalous undergarments, she had bought just to make you and Abigail smile brightly as you commented at the uncomfortableness of them.

He seemed to have the same thought.

“Wrong drawer, my king” she joked, as she moved the remaining gauze away, to let him sit beside you, something almost intimate setting up in the room.

“… sorry” he commented, before he opened the proper drawer and grabbed the small bottle with lotion, offering it to Kathleen who moved to shamelessly raise her nightgown up her legs, unveiling them.

And she couldn’t hide that suddenly the room became warmer as his eyes set up on her body “… isn’t this improper?”.

“Oh why?” she spoke, her rebellious streak appearing in her eyes “… I am just healing my wounds, if you think that is improper, that’s on you”.

Alfred seemed almost taken aback by her scolding and she smirked at him, as his lips moved in a softer smirk, before he passed her the salve.

“Then if you don’t see anything improper in this, may I help with your wounds?” the little king wanted to play, his eyes suddenly becoming flame “… wouldn’t want you to miss out any spot”.

“Then be my guest, my king”.

And she pushed the lid back in his hands and he opened it calmly, gently dripping a good amount on his fingers, before he softly spread it around his hands, lowering the box again on the beside table.

Kathleen moved one leg towards him, meanwhile Alfred sat himself on the chair next to bed avoiding the spot beside you, as if he was too shameful for that.

Kathleen, then, gave him one of her legs, pushing them on his thigh, as one last attempt to make him back out.

But it wasn’t enough.

And his eyes shot up to meet hers.

And this time it was her who backed away from them.

She should have thought about you.

In a dark cell, as you waited for your verdict.

Maybe risking the worst of sentences.

But now she was simply drowning in those pools of pure sky.

His hands were smooth, certainly the ones of somebody who was more used to paper than the swords.

Something that felt damnably good against her hurt skin.

The coldness of the cream gave Kathleen great relief, alongside the way it glided over her broken and dry skin.

And Alfred knew just how much pression to apply on most points of her legs, as she found closer and closer to that angelic face.

And slowly there was just the space of a breath between each other.

And Kathleen closed it with the only truly free movement she had ever allowed herself, beside the king.

And she asked herself, if this was all a plan or if her heart beating dangerously fast was true.

She didn’t care to find out, when Alfred pushed her closer to him, answering the kiss.

---

@queenboosha @lovelylangdonx @rls905 @maggiescarborough

---

Liked What You Read? Want To Support Me? Buy Me A Ko-Fi!

#Alfred #alfred the great #Alfred x OC #Alfred OC #Alfred Imagine #Alfred Fic #Alfred The Great Fic #Alfred Angst #angst #Vikings #History Vikings #Vikings Imagine

6 notes · View notes