#might need to be silly and draw a reference sheet thing for her as well | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ceejaykayess · 2 years

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Spoilers for one of the big twists of AI, and implied spoilers for Nirvana Initiative. Close-ups of the left and right under the cut. Also a long ass related one shot, because I’m incorrigible, I guess.

Aha, I said I would. Here’s my own take on Falco!Date. If you’ve seen some of my other art, you probably would have been able to pick up on some design cues I took for this mf. My bigger inspirations for this do come from other AITSF artists that have posted their own takes on the big guy, none of which I can name because I don’t pay a lot of attention. Stuff like wearing his hair in a spiky ponytail, wearing a purple shirt in his old style, and even the idea of dying his hair.

For this, I guess I was still experimenting on my design, considering some tiny differences. Like, I kept struggling to think of how to have Date wear his poggers coat open to show off his shirt without it looking silly. Then my brain blew up when I realised you could just button on the same side. So, now his chest is exposed, which is a win.

I wanted Date to wear only one of his gloves, partially as a way to distinguish my own idea of him and partially because I think mismatching designs are really cool. Love Date’s eyes. With my last post, I jokingly decided that Date’s now missing right glove was given to Hitomi as a keepsake. On the topic, I wanted Date to have his right hand ungloved so he could feel his Evolver without any interference, but wanted him to keep his other glove so he can still touch evidence without leaving prints. I always intended his left hand to be gloved and his right hand to be ungloved but I probably fucked up with my first Falco!Date fic way back an got my left and right confused. Cause my left isn’t his left, and so on.

His shoes are different. Look, I love Date’s real boots, but I don’t have a clue if he and Saito share a shoe size or not, and I was too embarrassed to ask the ether to compare the models, and I can’t see any feasible way for Date to wear boots the wrong size, so I decided to go with his old shoes. Kept the purple socks, though. They cute.

About his hair, I mentioned I took inspiration from someone else. In their post, they had it so Date tried to imitate his old appearance in Saito’s body, which included dying his hair the old shade of blond. So, I wanted to take that basic concept here. The tips of his lengthened hair are dyed the same shade of blond as Saito’s, which are all held bundled in his ponytail. Since there’s no way his hair’d get this long after only 3 months and a week, I... mentally just put this design as post (or during the 6 years later side) of Nirvana Initiative, where during his break he grew his hair out and had some people dyed his hair a bit.

It might be a bit obvious from the writing, but... the two Dates and his zoomed in eyes on the left are based on using the Date and Falco concept art sheets from AITSF, while the full body and zoomed in Date face are me drawing freehand with no reference. Which... isn’t great, I definitely need more practice, but I’m too bitch for that, so. I think the closeup of his face is nice, though.

“Date, what are you doing?” Her voice bit through the room with accusation and no small amount of vitriol, but he could hear the curiousity underneath it. They had been living together for almost six years, you know.

Yes, Date, I know.

Shush. Turning to his... roommate? Friend? Daughter? All of the above? Turning to Mizuki, he showed off the piece of clothing held firmly in both hands. The mysterious and yet so familiar purple, the firm and reclusive collar, the subtle diamond texture... all things he would associate with the person he would call Kaname Date.

“Ah, well, you know,” off to a great start, bud. “I’m just... thinking about putting on my coat.” There, easy.

“Why?”

Ah. Well.

“I mean...,” It makes me feel like myself, and not a fake in my own skin.

Date...

“I spent a lot of money on this coat, and wouldn’t it be a waste not to wear it?”

“Sure, but...” And here she looks from the coat in his hands, to his face, to a specific spot on his face, before settling on his face, hand tapping on her workout bench. “Why now? It’s almost Spring soon.”

She has a point there, Date. The average temperature has been rising recently. Just this week it has increased by 3.6 degrees centigrade. While there is no guarantee that next month will continue this trend, it is still likely that-

“Okay, okay, I get it, Aiba. I just... want to wear the coat, okay? I had been meaning to for a while now, but it just... it didn’t feel right.” Not without you.

...

“...kay.”

“Hm?” Date looked down from where his gaze must have wandered listening to Aiba. Mizuki was looking down, fiddling with her hands. At his mumble, she looked back up, grey eyes looking... understanding, in a way that made Date feel weak in relief and self-loathing.

“I said, okay. Geez, do you need to get your ears cleaned too, along with your smelly old man clothes?”

“Hey! These clothes don’t smell!” A beat passes, occupied by a sniff. “Much.”

Their little jab war would have continued if not for Mizuki heading it off with an important question.

“Are you sure that’s even gonna fit you? You’re, uh... a bit wider than you used to be.”

At the question, Date confidently waves his hand.

“That’ll be fine. I’ve been thinking of this for a while, y’know. If I heat the leather up, then I can make it remould to my more masculine form.”

She narrows her eyes at that, and suddenly Date felt like a fool. But before she could even comment, his partner cut in aloud.

“Date, I do not believe you have the equipment required to perform such a procedure in your home. Furthermore, I find it dubious to attempt such a procedure without any practice, or assistance. As well, I-”

“It’ll be fine. I’ll have you with me, won’t I, Aiba?” The question was simple, but behind it was a silent plea. As he stared into space, waiting with something cold beginning to coil in his spine, his partner remained silent. Then, a kind voice.

“Of course, Date. Always.”

He couldn’t help the warm smile that spilled across his ragged face, not even when Mizuki smiled at the two of them like a proud mother seeing her children get along. Which is an odd metaphor to use given their relationship, but not the point. Wanting to eradicate the embarrassment he felt, Date instead chose to taunt.

“Ha! Now I’ll be just fine with my clothes, Mizuki, you non-believer!”

Her smiling visage was quickly replaced with a glare and a growl. The two began another of their many bouts, with the third member of their little family chipping in every now and then. Date began to wear his old leather coat and pants not even a week later, seeming more comfortable in his own skin than he had in the last three months.

“Hey, Mr. Date.”

He took a deep swig of his bourbon and quickly swallowed, ignoring the burn as he turns to his subordinate. An aesthetically familiar head looks back, cheeks almost as red as his left eye.

“What is it, Ryuki?”

He smiled, like he usually would whenever he was drunk and his name was said. It was kinda cute, Date supposed, in a similar way to an old dog still wagging its tail whenever it saw its owner. Ryuki gestured exaggeratedly towards his hands, one wrapped around his glass, and the other tapping on the bar counter.

“It’sh your hands, Mr Date.”

Oh, he’s starting to slur, now. Have they really been here so long? It didn’t even feel like he spent that much time with Ryuki... Aiba, do you mind-

Yes, Date, I can drive you and Ryuki home. Again.

Thaaanks. Now, back to his subordinate.

“What about them?”

They were certainly larger than the ones he had used the last six years. Thicker and harder, too. His dexterity hasn’t suffered any, luckily enough, but he still sometimes thinks his hand is smaller than it is when he tries to reach through a tight gap. The skin was rougher, not scar-covered, but he wouldn’t have been surprised. Oh, and he was-

“Why’re yoou only wearing a glove on oone of them?”

And he was wearing a glove on one of them. His left hand, specifically.

“Well, Ryuki, my wonderful subordinate. Gloves are helpful in our profession, as they let us manually interact with any evidence we find without having to significantly worry about leaving any prints behind that could interfere with the investigator’s investigation. They aren’t a requirement, of course, but I would always recommend to have at least one on you.”

He’s smiling again, face flushing even brighter red- is that healthy?- but he waves his hand.

“Nooo, I already know that, Mr. Date! You told me months ago!” He did? Maybe he’s more drunk than he thought... “I mean, why are you only wearing one glove now? You used to wear two.”

Now he could feel his face start to blush.

“Ah, well, you see, I-”

He gave the spare glove to Hitomi, as a keepsake.

Aiba, you traitor! Was that over comms!?

Yes.

Ugghhh...

“Uh, please ignore that, won’t you, Ryuki? It’s a little embarrassing. And, I only gave it to her because I thought she could use it, okay!? No other reason!”

He said that, but he couldn’t help looking at his gloved hand, and imagining its partner being worn by the woman he wanted to one day call his partner, in love and life, even if he doesn’t feel worthy of even trying.

And because he couldn’t help it, he missed the way Ryuki’s face seemed to go lax, the way his flush shrank away and the way his expression showed his yearning sorrow. By the time Date turned around, Ryuki’s expression had once again become a dopy smile, and their night continued on.

He found himself sitting in that place again, back against the stairs as he stares out at the shrine grounds. No matter how long it’s been, six years or twelve, it never changes. Even the tree Mizuki had knocked down so long ago had been replanted and regrown.

He had told her, once, that this place made him feel calm. At peace. That was true, but there was probably more to it than he realised. This was, after all, the place he had first met the love of, he’ll admit it, his life. It was also a place he had often come to with the first girl he had thought of as a daughter. Obliquely, some part of him wondered if that little girl, now a grown woman in her own right, still wanted him to fulfill that wish of hers. If, even if he did, she would bother to call him Dad.

It frustrated him. That no matter how hard he tried, it was as if the world was determined to tear him away from the things he loved. It frustrated him, that he didn’t have the strength to force his way past the world. Not when he wants to most, at least. And what frustrated him the most, is how no one blamed him for it.

It verged on blame. Mizuki’s screams, Ryuki’s sobs, Aiba’s reticence. But it never tipped over. They asked why he never came home earlier, and he answers, and that’s that. No blame. And he refuses to ask for forgiveness. He refuses to talk about it, doesn’t want to force himself onto anyone after they all had over half a decade of not needing to be weighed down by him.

And it frustrated him. Because it wasn’t much more than an excuse. Because he was scared of being hated by the people he loves, for something he couldn’t control. Because he knows that if he just asked, just talked about it, they would. They would tell him there was nothing to forgive, they would understand, and they would even try to bring him back into their lives, rather than just the portions that he had to force himself into.

So, here he was. At the place he felt most at peace, all alone. Hoping that those Gods he didn’t believe in, that he would otherwise curse and rue, might finally offer him some sort of boon for the bullshit he could call his life. Instead, what he got was...

“Oh, it’s you. The old man.”

He blinks, before looking over. Her voice threw him for a bit, he thought his roommate-friend-daughter if he could even call her that anymore had found him while he was sulking. Instead, a glance out his good eye showed a familiar looking girl wearing the most outlandish clothes he had ever seen, and that was even taking Gen into account.

“Hey, kid.”

The greeting came unbidden, competing and eventually domineering over the natural thought to call her Mizuki and the overcompensating instinct to call her Bibi. Her slight grimace showed that he was probably damned no matter what.

“Ugh. Just call me Bibi, old man.”

“Alright, alright...”

He stared as she calmly approached, eventually taking a spot next to him on the stairs of the shrine. He blinked as she closed her eyes and hummed. She seemed cool as a cucumber, but he was feeling pretty awkward. He had to break the ice, somehow.

“So, uh... what are you doing here?”

She doesn’t respond, and for a moment Date felt a spark of irritation light up. It was quickly extinguished when she answered, though.

“Oh, you know. Just doing everyone a favour and looking for a certain idiot of an old man that went missing and still hasn’t bothered to get a phone yet.”

Ouch.

“H-hey. I’ve got a phone. I just... forgot to give my number out, is all...”

He could feel her judging him, her artificially heterochromatic eyes piercing straight through his leather coat and weathered body straight to his heart. He was certain that if Aiba were here, she would mock him for forgetting something so obvious. Hell, if she were here, he wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.

Before he could ponder further on his own incompetence, Bibi stuck her hand out to Date, making a give gesture. Date raised a brow. Bibi furrowed her brow before aggressively continuing the gesture. Date could only tilt his head in response. It was Bibi that lost their impromptu staring contest, speaking.

“Your phone. Give me your phone.”

Her voice was harsh and clipped, so Date hardly hesitated in fishing the old thing out of his pocket. It was old, especially in this day and age, and worn being second-hand and all. But it was sturdy, and had seen him through many a job. Bibi grabbed it from his hand and started clicking through the menus. Eventually, she must have found something since she took a few seconds to stare before hitting the power button and tossing it back. Date could only grab it completely lost.

“Alright, old man. What’s your problem?”

“Huh?”

Date could only stare in shock. She comes up to him, invades his private time, insults him and demands his phone, and he’s the one with the problem? Kids these days...

“Your problem. Why are you out here, instead of... I dunno, spending time with your friends? Your girlfriend? Your daughters, maybe?”

Oh, great. This is what he gets for asking the gods for anything.

“Well, you know... it’s peaceful out here. I just needed some fresh air.”

“With no way to contact you? Right.”

“They’d have found me eventually. I mean, you did, and we hardly know each other.”

“Ha.”

The two sat in silence. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it wasn’t uncomfortable either. Date ran his gloveless right hand through his hair. His real hair, not the admittedly impressive synthetic fibres for his facemask. He couldn’t help but grimace. The last six years have not been super helpful for his hygiene, especially with all the travelling. His fingers eventually reached the dry ends of his hair, bleached near white.

“You know, I’ve never seen you with that face. At least, not personally.”

Date looked over, a brow raised. Bibi was just staring off into the distance.

“I had seen you a few times, with that new face near Mizuki. It had worried me a lot back then. Even when Mama would show me your old profile and called you a friend, I still worried. I felt so much better when you started wearing that mask. It felt a lot simpler, even if that was actually the face of someone that tried to hurt Mizuki. But, it felt like wearing the mask made everyone else a bit sadder. Even you.”

Date silently stared. Looking down, he found himself looking at the hollow face mask. One of the only connections he had to a past he didn’t know those last six years. It was horrible. Back then, he loved it and hated it at the same time, but he never knew why. Could never place that it was a feeling of wonderful familiarity, of the same face in the mirror, of a sign of six years lived in blissful ignorance with people he called his family. Could never place that it was a feeling of hatred and pain, of a sneering face looking down as his left eye ached, of a sign of a tragedy that could have occurred, that should have occurred, that had occurred and then had not occurred.

“But, you know, when you went missing, I would go take a look around sometimes. Whenever I was feeling up to it. But the face I was looking for had always been yours. Not the mask’s. I think I like you better like this. What about you?”

Then she turned to him, completely serious. For a moment, Date could appreciate that Mizuki would grow up to look every bit like the total badass she always was. But, that was only for a moment. For the next few questions, he considered.

“I... I don’t really know. Back then, all I wanted to be was Kaname Date. Even if there was a part of me that wanted to take care of what Falco had left behind, to accept what Falco was, there was so much more that wanted to just... run away. That wanted to keep on raising Mizuki, that wanted to keep on investigating with Aiba, that wanted to look in the mirror and see a friend instead of a stranger, an enemy. But then, the Church happened... and I was just Date. No Falco, no Kaname. Just, Date. And I lived my life, and saw my face as my own reflection, and I worked, and I grew my hair out. And then I saw that news report and it all came back to me, Kaname and Falco and Date all forced together and tied into a ruined ribbon named Kaname Date.”

He leaned over, arms resting on his knees, hands clasped, flesh and leather rubbing together. His throat ached, but he needed to force this out.

“But I don’t know who Kaname Date is, anymore. Is he the man with the black hair and eyes, gloveless and hopelessly in love? Is he the handsome secret agent clad in layers of black and purple, AI-Ball in tow? Or is he the labourer who grew his hair out, that hung out at bars with co-workers and helped out at local orphanages on the way, who dyed his hair that familiar shade of blond? Who... is Kaname Date to everyone else?”

His ears were ringing. His eye was burning. He took in one deep breath, then another, trying to regain his cool. He didn’t want to cry, not now. Especially not in front of that face. The yawning gap in his head had never felt so hollow, not since those days when the hole seemed to reach straight though his heart, forcing him to find some middle ground as Kaname Date.

Eventually, he caught his breath and cleared his vision enough to rise back to a sitting position with some amount of confidence. He didn’t want to look to his right. Instead, all he could do was laugh.

“Heh. Look at me, spilling my guts to a stranger. I really have changed, huh?”

The words felt bitter on his tongue. An aged bitterness, one that burns through the tongue.

His only response was the sound of rustling, then the creaking of the wooden steps. He couldn’t help but turn to see.

“Well, sometimes you need a stranger to spill your guts to. We’re way less likely to judge, y’know?”

She was standing, and took a step off the porch. She stopped so her back faced Date.

“I can’t tell you who Kaname Date is. No one can, I don’t think. Only you can figure out who you are, you know? But, you don’t have to do it alone. Because you’re not. You have family and friends who’ll help out, who’ll learn who Kaname Date is right along with you. Don’t you think that sounds like a better solution than sulking alone?”

Having said her piece, she began to walk off, leaving Date alone with her words. But she stopped again, this time turning around.

“Personally, I like this you better than any of those other options. Maybe try tying your hair up, though, you look like a creep about to drag someone into a river.”

Then she left, leaving with the last word.

“Damn brat.”

Date couldn’t help but smile. She wasn’t a bad kid. Looking down at his hands, one gloved in purple and the other bare and calloused, Date wondered. She liked this him better than the other options? He huffed. Sure like to keep it straightforward, huh. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a hair tie he would keep spare for work. Grabbing his hair, he tied it up in a low ponytail. Taking a deep breath of the shrine air, Date finally felt some of that frustration start to ease, some of his turmoil calmed. He still had a lot to do and say, but for now, this felt like a good first step.

Then his phone started to ring, with an familiar unknown number. Picking it up, he brought it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Kaname? Is that you?”

“...Hitomi?”

Damn brat.

#ai the somnium files #ai the somnium files nirvana initiative #kaname date #hayato yagyu #art #story #mizuki okiura #kuruto ryuki #mizuki kuranushi #God this dragged on #I am not even remotely confident in my portrayal of Bibi #I am so sorry

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bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 3 years

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Alright, chapter 8! And man is there a lot to talk about here. I don’t really have any pre-content things to say, so we’ll just hop right into it today!

[No. 8 - Rage, You Damned Nerd]

I swear, this first page has a LOT to talk about on it, so I’ll go from panel to panel and do some rambling thoughts on each segment.

First off, UA doesn’t actually handle the costumes the kids get! It’s support companies affiliated with the school that does - which makes sense, since the school has to focus on teaching their support students before letting them get their hands on actual costumes that these kids might be fighting in.

I mean, they seem to be allowed to practice on like, minor support stuff (read: Mei making Izuku his new gloves post-Nighteye or somewhere around there) but not full costuming, which is… actually a bit reassuring? But also explains some of the lag time in getting costume repairs / upgrades since they’re probably busy companies. It also explains why there probably aren’t major alterations to any costumes besides between the summer and winter variants, since it would be time-consuming to remake these costumes so regularly.

(It still doesn’t excuse some of the costumes the kids got, but that’s more on the whole ‘eye candy’ thing for readers than actual practicality, so whatever.)

(Also, I can’t get over the fact that Snipe has a support company. Fucking Snipe. Guess we know another canon or likely-canon Support teacher.)

Next we get a preview of what the kids sent in for specifications for their costumes:

We get a bit of insight into a few of the characters - as background stuff, we get Shouji, Mineta, Aoyama, and Sato. Mineta got pretty dunked on for char design and costuming, and Aoyama’s costume almost looks like a magical girl outfit like this, which honest to god would have been fantastic to see him in. More interesting (at least to me) are the other three: Ochako, Tenya, and Katsuki.

Ochako first, because that pressure point thing is interesting, and I dunno how often those actually come up in fics besides a passing mention, like. What if her support bracelets / neck piece broke during training / a mission / whatever? Would she suddenly have to fight through the nausea? By the point of current canon (War Arc) she’s probably trained enough that she doesn’t need them as much, but man, it could be an interesting little thing to explore, like, post-Kamino.

Tenya is a bit surprising, since we know he comes from a well-off hero family. Logically, this was before the whole Hosu / Ingenium plotline was really developed, so Tenya didn’t have that to fall back on, or it could be argued that the support company that Ingenium is associated with also works with UA. Alternatively, it could be that either Tenya didn’t want to rely on his family (which seems silly when they’d know how to work with his quirk best) or UA is very firm on ALL costume stuff going through them…

But then again, Katsuki. Oh god, Katsuki. What fucking support company looked at this kid and went ‘yeah we should give him a way to store more explosives AND give him bombs’ and just. Did so. Why did UA not vet that. Maybe the support company didn’t realize how strong his explosions were without the gear, but UA, man, I just. I suppose they had no way of knowing how reckless he’d be with them, but honestly, after the battle trials, they should have been fucking yoinked from him so damned fast.

Anyways, onto other parts of Katsuki’s costume, we see he’s a fucking dork. Possibly what lowered their guard. ‘Something scary’ and ‘Dynamighte all over’. What the hell, kid. At least your designer stuck close to your design… including the huge-ass clunky gauntlets. Man, the Musketeer Trio movie poster ones are so much better looking and so, so streamlined. Works of art, they are.

Moving on, we get a bit of a flashback to ~three weeks ago, which by the calendar would be around March 20th? So a few weeks after the Entrance Exam. And Izuku is only NOW getting around to updating the quirk registry? Izuku baby seriously, how the FUCK did none of the UA staff notice the ‘quirkless’ on your application form at any point before this?

But yeah, he’s worried about his registry, so he calls Toshinori, who explains the update process. It gives the example of someone who might alter their stuff with updated information, with one or two allowed - though major ones aren’t accepted. Toshinori then says it’ll probably be okay since he started with nothing, then tries to correct himself to ‘definitely’, only to get cut off because Izuku accidentally hangs up in a panic when Inko calls out that she’s home. Haha poor Toshinori, and poor Izuku, the two anxious dumbasses.

Anyways, moving on from that is Inko showing off the jumpsuit she made, with Izuku surprised. She admits it’s not the coolest, but she based it off of the design in his notebook (the one we saw back in chapter 1). She tells him she regrets giving up on him back then, and how he never quit regardless of her faith. She apologizes and says from there on she’ll be cheering him on with all she’s got.

Izuku’s narration notes that it’s a symbol of his mom’s love, and that he couldn’t wear anything else, even if it’s not ‘efficient’ or ‘cutting edge’. (Or even at all decent looking.) And it’s also hinted through the present thoughts on it that it’s meant to be an homage to All Might (the smile and the hair pieces) which is just such a dorky thing.

We get to the wide-spread of hero costumes, which- wait a second.

That’s Momo’s initial hero costume design???? Why did Hori not stay with that??? It’s a LOT better than the stuff we’ve seen her in later! Like, sure, it’d still be improved with the main opening being her stomach and not her chest, but this still looks like actual human clothing and not a sexy Halloween costume variant of her hero uniform. Fucking hell, now I’m even more mad.

Tsuyu’s costume meets the approval of the discord server as basically ‘no changes needed’ asides from maybe the goggles being a bit bulky.

Tenya’s costume, I’m sorry, I know it’s an homage to your brother / family, but were the additional pipes really needed? Also, the helmet isn’t a bad idea since he goes fast, and bugs in the mouth/teeth have to suck, but it just looks so damned Gundam-y I can’t help but laugh a little.

Shouto… nah, too easy a target.

Aoyama is Aoyama. I’m actually a bit disappointed now that it’s not a magical girl costume, but alas, I suppose even Hori couldn’t be that brave.

Kaminari… I forgot he had that headset thingy.

Don’t really have much else to say about anyone else, so let’s move on.

Izuku bugs out a bit about Ochako’s costume/appearance, while she compliments his more practical looks and laments not being specific, saying it’s a bit too puffy and curvy for her. Which means it’s more the accessories which seem to be her issue with it over the main costume itself? Huh.

Anyways, after All Might confirms they’re all there, he notices Izuku’s headpieces, which are a match to his costume, and has to turn to muffle a laugh for how obvious a reference it is. Tenya steps up, asking whether they’ll be doing cityscape maneuvers again since it’s the same field used in the entrance exam. Izuku thinks to himself how cool Tenya’s costume is, while All Might explains that they’re moving onto step two - indoor anti-personnel battle training!

He explains what while villain battles are most commonly seen outdoors, statistically the worst crimes and villains are more likely to be found indoors. Confinement, house arrest, black market deals… the clever villains luck indoors to avoid heroes. Which is why the class will be split into teams of two and pit against each other, heroes versus villains style!

Ah, Tsuyu. Calling him right the heck out, as expected. All Might then notes that in this scenario, the fight won’t be against disposable robots.

This entire page is just fucking hilarious. The class and all their questions while All Might is shaking with nerves. The fucking cheat sheet he uses to try to get back on track. Him being questioned on the lot drawing, and shaking while Izuku accidentally ends up covering for him. I just. All Might was not prepared for this mess and it shows. He was doing so much better when it was the one on one stuff with Izuku.

But yeah, Izuku notes the scenario is like from a western comic plot, and he’s also the one who ‘realizes’ the lots are like when heroes from different agencies have to team up for emergencies without prior warning.

Lots are drawn, and we have our teams:

Izuku’s so stressed out because he still can’t really talk to her, while she’s excited to be teamed up and calls it ‘fate’ that it happened. All Might draws the first two teams to participate, and… team Izuku and Ochako (as the heroes) versus team Katsuki and Tenya (as the villains). Both Izuku and Katsuki are alert from this development…

Which makes this a good point to cut off, since it’s halfway through and we got a lot of information to chew on already. Second part should be out this weekend (hopefully).

#chapter 8 #readthrough #opening arcs #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #uraraka ochako #iida tenya #yagi toshinori #bakugou katsuki #midoriya inko #class 1a #izuku's first costume was fucking hideous #thank god hori / the support company improved on it afterwards #also shouto #i don't even need to say anything when the fandom has made fun of your for me #also i cannot BELIEVE we were robbed of this momo costume #what the FUCK hori

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

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I was thinking, what if Jake accidentally triggered Chris? Like maybe Jake casually says something that sir would say when he was about to punish Chris. He’d probably feel so guilty.

So this isn’t exactly what you asked for, but it hits on another ask I received and is very similar! (sorry, other asker, I ended up losing your ask because Tumblr sucks)

CW: References to past whump involving a minor. PTSD/trauma response to stressful stimuli. Includes description of stimming including head banging. VERY vague references to past implied noncon.

Chris’s mind runs fast. Not as fast as his mouth, but that’s okay, he can mostly catch up to himself if he works at it. His mind runs fast but it also derails and crashes on tiny details when he’s trying to finish his chores, and he never had chores before he came to live here but he doesn’t mind them - it’s just hard to get them done when there keep being so many other things to look at.

He’s supposed to be cleaning the living room, and it takes Jake maybe half an hour to do this but Chris has been at it for nearly forty-five minutes, he thinks, maybe longer… and he’s still just trying to finish dusting all the shelves.

The thing is - the TV is on, because he likes the background noise, but words keep catching his attention, little phrases and bits of information his brain wants to add to the constant loop of his thoughts. Plus - plus, on top of the TV and the swirly letters he can’t read on all the books, and the way the throw pillows have kind of a cool texture - on top of all of that, there’s a chipmunk outside.

He knows it’s a chipmunk because Jake told him about how they chirp, which he didn’t know before he came here. Chris mostly didn’t know anything before he came here, but he’s learning, piece by piece.

The chirping keeps catching his attention, drawing him away, slowing him down. He’s no good at cleaning, he can’t think about it long enough, cleaning is too slow and too methodical for his brain. But he likes doing chores, because chores mean he belongs here.

He fluffs a throw pillow, then runs his fingertips over the rough braided texture right down the center, a change from the silky-touch feel of the sides. Silk, rough, silk, rough, silk, rough.

His eyes start to unfocus, go slightly blank.

Silk, rough, just like-

“How’s it going, Chris?” Nat calls from upstairs. She’s turning over all the mattresses and changing the sheets today, Antoni is with her, while Leila works on cleaning the bathroom upstairs and Jake’s down here, in the kitchen, just a few feet away.

“It’s, it’s, it’s it’s it’s good!” Chris calls back, jerking himself into motion, but he can hear the chipmunk outside still, calling and calling and calling. Is it missing someone?

Do I miss someone?

The thought breaks in, strange and uncertain, hardly his own. It’s plaintive, sad. It’s a thought that belongs to Baldur in the dark nights, and to the numbered boy before that in the flat white room. It’s not a thought that belongs to Chris, who stands next to the window and looks out into sunny day. It’s not a thought he wants.

So he ignores it.

Thoughts like that come with headaches that leave him shaking in the dark, and he’s very good at ignoring anything that might bring on the pain again.

He moves to clean around the windowsills, which - who ever heard of doing that, but it’s on the list she reads out to him, and he tries to remember everything. He’s getting better.

The chipmunk chirps outside the window, a kind of throat-swallow sound, and Chris finds himself echoing the noise, making a high-pitched eep-eep-eep sound. It doesn’t sound like the chipmunk at all, but the little animal goes silent outside when he does it, and Chris feels a thrill.

It understood I was trying to talk to it. Maybe it’s listening to me.

That’s a silly thought, and he tries to tell himself it’s stupid, but when he thinks awful things about himself he can kind of hear how Jake would respond if he said them out loud. You’re smart, Chris, you’re smarter than you think you are - you’re brilliant in there, we’re just bringing it back out. Don’t talk down about yourself. The way you think about yourself is how you think about the world.

Chris mostly loves the world, now. So he tries to love himself.

The chipmunk starts back up again, and Chris moves closer, a smile on his face. Slow, and careful, step by step, cleaning forgotten, he tilts his head and-… there it is. Tiny body no bigger than a mouse in a movie, reddish-brown with the black and white stripes across its head and down its back.

Jake says they have stripes like that because the things that eat them don’t see color like people do, and the stripes help them hide.

I wish I had stripes to help me hide.

But the thought doesn’t matter, because Chris doesn’t have to hide anymore. He puts that thought away, too. Lets it sink into the revolving mix of things going on inside his mind at any given moment. Right now it’s mostly the chipmunk.

His hand keeps moving with the rag in it, wiping back and forth across the windowsill, spraying the glass cleaner and wiping at that, too, but it’s half-hearted and he knows he’s leaving streaks. He just… can’t quite stop thinking about the little chipmunk he can just see, hardly a breath of an animal, sitting in Nat’s grass under the white birch tree in her front yard.

If you go to the tree you can peel strips of white and black bark away, easy as cake, like peeling away all his skin to find the real him underneath.

There’s a voice, behind him, from the TV. Smooth, genial, warm and slightly arrogant, the voice of someone who has total and perfect confidence in themselves.

Chris drops the glass cleaner, the plastic bottle bouncing off the floor. The chipmunk catches some hint of the sudden movement and takes off, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

“Of course, Deborah. But I don’t think it’s fair to remove this right that’s been enshrined in our laws since 1952 just because a few protesters get their, well, I won’t say it in polite company. But just because a few protesters are bothered, that’s no reason to get rid of an entire system that’s working just fine. We need to crack down on abuse, of course, and these nasty rumors about illegal acquisition - which, I know the head of WRU personally, I can tell you that’s all a bunch of nonsense-”

Chris’s constant running barrage of thoughts comes to a stuttering halt.

He turns slowly around, cleaning rag still clutched in his other hand, his heart somewhere trapped around his knees, to stare at the TV.

There’s a woman on the screen right now, with blonde hair shellacked in a kind of circle around her head, wearing bright red lipstick and a dress to match. She tilts her head at a practiced angle, and Chris unconsciously echoes the motion. His free hand twists, fingers twitching in a kind of dance, before they tap against his own side. Tap-tap-tap-tap, the motion soothing him, calming him, a rush of something pleasant that fights the fear.

“Of course, Governor Branch-”

“Oh, how do I love to hear myself called that, still,” The man replies. He sits back, the slight shine of the light off his hair makes Chris dizzy. He can almost smell the hair product that’s in it, can almost feel the smooth fabric of the suit Sir is wearing slipping through his fingers.

That’s the one he wore the night Miss Megan saved me.

“Speaking of illegal acquisitions, there’ve been persistent rumors surrounding WRU and its competing corporations about pet abuse, abductions, even minors being put into the system. What would you say o the protesters and pet liberation groups asking for better, more thorough investigations? Would you support the call for a Congressional investigation?””

Sir laughs - it’s a lovely laugh, pulling a smile onto the woman’s face, it’s a laugh Chris has dreams and nightmares about - and Chris lets out a choked-off sound.

Baldur, darling, you do know how to make a man laugh, don’t you?

His fingers twist faster, tap harder into his side. He steps away, stumbling gracelessly, until he can find a hard surface, the wall. He taps on it as fast as he can, a constant barrage of tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap, holding back the worst of the fear, keeping it at bay.

The rush of the sensation isn’t enough to beat back the fog in his mind. He’s buying time but not enough. He can hear Jake singing to himself in the kitchen, and his mouth opens to call, to say, that’s him, that’s my Sir, that’s him on TV, but no sound comes out.

Outside, the chipmunk starts chirping again.

Chris slides down to the floor, curling himself up into a ball, staring fixedly at the screen.

“Deborah, I have spoken to my good friend Timothy Rahm - current CEO of WRU, sorry, not all your viewers are going to know that, are they? - and he has assured me again and again that WRU has absolutely no minors in the system. They have strict physical examinations and quality control checks that ensure every single pet is of legal consenting age.”

Sir smiles, flash of bright white teeth. Chris thinks of whitening strips laid out in a little stray next to Sir’s sink. He had to look good for cameras. He does look good, in his suit with his tan and his sparkly amused eyes.

Darlin’, don’t look upset. You’re going to stay right here in the basement for the party, can’t have anyone getting too good a look, can we?

But, but, but but I don’t like the, the basement, Sir I don’t-

Baldur. You’ll stay in the basement. No arguments.

Yes, Sir.

Chris leans his head over, until it thumps into the wall. Briefly, he feels a burst of better, a wash of something like adrenaline, but soothing, calming. So he does it again. And again. And again.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The chipmunk is silent, listening outside to the sound of Chris as his thoughts revolve and focus around the man on the TV.

He can’t hear what they’re saying any longer, he doesn’t try to. He lets the sound of Sir’s voice, melodic and warm, wash over and around him, but if he keeps thumping his head on the wall - if he keeps tapping, too, if he can just do both - he won’t let him in.

Get him to stop doing that thing with his hand, it’s annoying as hell. I don’t care how, tie his fucking hands down. Teach him not to do that anymore.

The voice wants to trickle under his skin, but a good thump - it’s not painful, it doesn’t hurt, it’s only a shake out of his freezing, it’s holding back the sounds that would hurt if they made it too far in - knocks it back out.

Not yours. Not yours. Not yours. Not yours.

He chants along with the thumps of his head, the taps of his fingers. He whispers without sound.

Better now. Better now. Better now. Better now.

His eyes go unfocused, and Sir is gone, but Chris can’t remember quite how to find his own way back. He doesn’t know how long he floats there, waiting. He doesn’t even know what he’s waiting for.

Someone crouches down in front of him and Chris flinches - no, no, he’s not supposed to touch the walls any longer, he has to stop or he’ll be in trouble again - only to feel Jake’s warm hands on his shoulders, up his neck, on either side of his face.

Jake’s smell, simple clean shower-smell, nothing like Sir’s heavy cologne. Jake smells like soap from the shower and fresh-cut grass from mowing the lawn this morning and the sun that shone in his hair when he did it, while Chris watched from inside.

“Chris?”

“I, I, I, I… I I I saw, I saw, I saw-”

Jake’s eyebrows furrow in concern, a hint of worry lines across his forehead. “What did you see, man? Can you tell me what you saw? Can you tell me what’s in your head right now?”

Sir isn’t on TV anymore. They’ve moved on to talk about something else. Chris swallows, looking up at Jake, then shoves himself forward to push into Jake’s chest, tap-tap-tapping on his side. Jake doesn’t stop him, Jake never ever stops him, he understands the tapping helps. Jake only puts one arm around him and holds him tightly, leaving the other down so Chris can tap, twist-fingers-tap-shirt, again and again.

The simple, clean rush of calm, bit by bit, building a wall to fight back the waves of awful things that want to dig under his skin.

“Chris, I need you to talk to me. What did you see? What happened?”

Chris closes his eyes, thinks of Sir’s smile, just like it always was. His laugh.

Thinks of being good in the dark.

“I saw a chipmunk,” Chris whispers. “Saw, I saw, there was a, a, a-a-a chipmunk, saw a chipmunk, saw-… then the TV, I-… on the, the TV on the tv there was, um, on the TV-”

“Okay. Okay, I know that wasn’t it, but… do you need me to turn off the TV? Would that help?”

Chris nods into Jake’s shirt, clutching hard onto the fabric, tapping his fingers. Hold it back, hold it back, push back the fear and the noise. “Heard, on the TV, I-I-I heard, I heard-”

“It’s okay. Look, I’m going to-… there, if I stretch I can just grab it-” Jake reaches out with his free hand, shakes the side table next to the couch until the remote drops off of it onto the floor within his reach. He turns off the TV and the sudden lack of sound fills the room with a new kind of weight. “No rush, buddy.” Jake squeezes Chris’s shoulders with one arm. “No rush to tell me. Take your time. You’re okay, you’re right here with us, this is Nat’s house. Nobody’s here but us, and we’re safe. I’ve got you, man.”

“You’ve, you’ve got me,” Chris whispers. He feels an urge to thump his head on Jake’s shoulder like he did on the wall, but manages not to. Only just. He can still hear Sir’s voice, like music that won’t stop playing, like when you get a song stuck in your head.

Sir would hate him wearing Jake’s big T-shirt, would hate the silky-mesh basketball shorts he wears all the time. Would hate his knobby knees sticking out from them, his sharp elbows that dig when he doesn’t mean them to. Sir hated his cold feet under the covers.

Jake doesn’t mind any of those things. Jake gives him the shirts he likes, and holds him, and doesn’t stop him from doing the things he has to do to keep his mind from running away too far for him to catch it. Sir was on the screen, but Jake has him here, and only one of those things is real.

Outside, a bit of bark peels away from the white birch tree in the wind, slowly revealing soft, easily-damaged wood the color of pale human skin underneath.

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glottia-arts · 4 years

Text

Friendship is outer-dimensional

Old story kind of brought back from the grave since I felt bad, but here we are now! Another combined story of @konan720‘s world and mine from AHiT because I liked doing that for some reason before.

I hope this isn’t too bad even with editing out a lot of my old writing, but oh well.

This is also a multi-chapter story, but it’s TBD on whether I’ll put the other chapters up here as well.

Word Count: 4,892

_____

Loud sounds echoed around stone walls, unrecognizable to her ears. Aura was unsure what to make of the foreign land.

Buildings were one thing, sounds another, but the overall appearance of the world was dull and frankly made Aura’s eyes hurt. She never thought dull would hurt her eyes, but she supposes this is what she gets for consistently being surrounded by bright objects.

This applies to only the ghostly residents of her home and her hourglass, but she digresses.

Despite the headache, the dweller surveyed the odd-looking town; Its appearance strange compared to that of her village before its fall. Buildings were larger, more intricate, several decorated beyond compare. Some showcased products that she’s never seen or heard of, others purposes were left unclear to her.

Several people passed through the area, whether by foot or odd contraption. She noticed that some children would ride on two-wheeled objects, a protective headpiece in place as they wandered the streets. Adults, on the other hand, seemed to favor moving metal boxes or larger more metallic versions of the thing the kids rode.

The things they traveled with were certainly loud and smelly, having been up close and personal with several of them. Aura still didn’t understand how they work but was a little peeved that one decided to move over her.

She may be a pure shadow that clings to surfaces during the day, but that doesn’t mean she has no feelings!

Speaking of, getting around was hard. Traversing the town proved challenging, no matter the time.

During the day, there was leeway as she didn’t have her normally large body to contend with. Of course, there were complications due to the lack of shadow filled locations to cross through.

A group of children caught her one time, believing someone painted a spooky ghost on the wall. It was simple to stay still and let them presume so, but she’d hate to see their reaction when they found out someone removed said ‘painting’.

Come the hours of twilight, Aura had to worry over her glowing body. True, she could revert to her basic dweller form to decrease her size, but her body still shone brightly. In order to properly travel, she needed to be out and about and couldn’t afford the attention. She wasn’t a shapeshifter like Snatcher but wished she was for this. Even having a basic human form would be helpful! She’s sure an excuse exists for glowing people, given the several odd things in this world, right?

No, that’s possibly too silly.

The ghost just had to stick with a touch and go method in the towns she goes through, letting her freedom be while she roamed the peaceful forests.

Aura does not understand how she wound up in this world, other than it probably being her own fault, but held hope; Hope in finding someone who might hold the key to her way home.

Several days of traveling later, she sensed a magical signature. Though faint, she could sense a powerful aura in the signature. Perhaps they would know what she sought and if not, refer her somewhere else.

Given her lack of a magical signature, unless using her powers, along with the fact hardly anybody could sense magic flow, it’s doubtful they were aware of her. Hopefully, they were friendly.

Getting closer, the signature began to feel familiar, both positively and negatively.

She’ll have to play this safe.

It didn’t take long for the ghost to arrive in the town she noticed their presence radiate from, but waited for night to strike. Aura had no clue of their lives or what they did but most individuals tended to become available at nightfall. That and she would prefer to deal with them as her usual self.

In the time the large dweller waited she observed this town, getting a lay of the land if she could not receive the information she hoped for. The city seemed peaceful but had held an uncomfortable air. It was possible a lot of negative thoughts and emotions lay in this town, but it might be something else.

It was several hours past dusk when she made it to the housing district that she sensed the magic emerge from. This wasn’t a terrible housing area, several large nice looking homes in the vicinity. Several had yards, some having trees with the occasional treehouse. Seeing them all made her homesick. Hopefully, she’ll be able to return soon.

Arriving at the mystery house, Aura surveyed the home. It looked just like any other ordinary house but much like the town, gave an odd impression. Dread filled her nonexistent stomach, fearing the one she’d have to deal with would be troublesome.

Hating to do this without at least knocking on the front door, the dweller clung to the shadows, traversing the walls of the home into the closest open window.

Entering the room, she began scanning for the magical user. They were indeed located in the home, but not the current room. Unsure of what to do, yet curious, Aura emerged from the shadows to survey the room properly.

Drawings hung up along the walls, primarily done in crayon. The ghost had a hard time making out what the drawings were, unfamiliar with several things detailed, but it was nice to see the imaginative side of whoever drew it. The room lacked much decoration, reminding her of her own room back while she was alive. Not much personal detail was shown, other than the works of art and the quilt that covered the bed.

She may be an intruder, but she refused to be rude and snoop through personal belongings. Aura would make do with this information presented to her. Besides, this could be the room of someone else and not the one she sought.

Hearing soft footsteps make their way to the door, Aura slid into the shadows, hiding under the bed. A few moments later, the door opened and in stepped a small figure. The undead dweller had some trouble making things out from her hiding spot, but from what she could tell, a child entered.

Oddly enough, the child retained a faint magical signature. No other humans she observed in her travels registered with one, so this was new. Additionally, she sensed the one she had followed here, believing they entered with the young one, yet could not see them whatsoever.

A shiver ran down her spine as she fully picked up on them. The dweller now knows why the reading felt off to her, the very same thing she picked up on and was hesitant around Vanessa their entire lives for; deep seated anger has altered their presence, seeping to their magics core.

Maybe it was a mistake coming here.

She noticed the child approach the bed, hearing the shuffle of sheets. It must be the girls’ bedtime, a yawn following the fade of fabric movement.

The girl was ready to climb into bed but was halted by another voice.

“Julia, I think you should go get properly ready for bed.”

“Huh..?” A pause. “But Moon, I go to bed like this sometimes anyway.”

“I know dear child but perhaps a change of clothes and a wash of your mouth will have you feeling better. You might sleep easier as well.”

The child didn’t respond, but went over to a dresser and opened it. Once she got what she wanted, she exited her room.

A few seconds went by before Aura finally could make out a shadow, hearing them open various compartments and even a door.

“If someone’s in here, they will regret ever entering.” They continued opening more things. “Perhaps it’s just my paranoia, but something feels wrong.”

Aura’s nerves were in shambles. Did she disturb something when she came in? No… if he’s paranoid like her, situations that are off are easier to notice.

She didn’t want to reveal herself after her realization but she nevertheless needed to know if they knew anything.

“Um… sorry to intrude, but yes, I’m here.”

A lengthy pause before they responded in a baffled yet hushed tone. “Am I going senile or did I hear a response that did not come from the child?”

Did... no one else speak to them? That’s somewhat sad.

“No, you received a response.”

Their shadow moved from one side of the room to the other.

“Where are you?” They sounded mildly irritated.

“I believe we both know I’m in hiding. If I have your word that you won’t harm me, I will show myself.”

Another extended pause, one she wasn’t sure she would even get a response to.

“All right, deal. Though I want you to show your hands first. No tricks.”

That was fair. “Of course.”

The dweller wasn’t assured the bed would be much of a barrier between them both but having something to separate them might ease both of their nerves.

On the opposing side, she gradually extended her hands out of the shadows to where they’d be able to see them. Taking an unneeded deep breath of air, she slipped out of her hiding place, becoming visible to the world. She still held her hands above her head as a good sign of faith, even when done leaving her safe haven. Now in view, bright blue eyes took in the sight of the one she had been searching for, who happened to be in a defensive stance. Aura was shocked, not expecting their appearance.

Their skin was pale blue, head resembling that of a mask in her opinion, a point resembling a crescent extending from the right side of their skull. Contrasting with their primary skin tone was a secondary one, being orange marks. These marks protruded from their eyes and mouth on both sides of their face.

Their eyes were unique, shaded with blue and red on either side, yet deferred in design; The left eye reminded her of a hypno wheel while the right sported diamonds.

Clothing not appearing to fit into this time frame is what they wore; A large orange cloak with a yellow undershirt catching her attention primarily. To make things even fancier, they wore a monocle and a cravat on their being. As they shifted their arms did she notice cuffs around their wrists, chains attached.

If they were a ghost, she partially wanted a do-over at dying, feeling underwhelming in comparison.

Their arms began lowering, shocked at her presence. Maybe they weren’t used to other odd figures?

Believing they had ample time to take her in, she closed her eyes and bowed her head somewhat, addressing them as calmly as she could. “My apologies for disturbing you, I’ve been traveling hoping to find some help with a predicament. You see, I believe I’ve wound up far away from home and was wondering if you-”

“Aura?”

Eyes shooting open, she stared at the other magic user. How did they know her moniker?

Now it was her turn to grow defensive. Lowering her arms, one moved to her chest as she inclined her head. “How do you know that name?”

They blinked several times as they registered her question. After a moment, they replied. “It’s… the name you went by, not wanting to be referred to as ‘the Mayor’s Daughter’ all the time.”

“You are correct, but how are you aware of it?”

They crossed their arms and tilted their own head. “Do you not recognize me, Lady Aura?”

She remembered most of the people she’s interacted with in life but this specter wasn’t ringing any bells.

“I’m afraid unless you’re a dweller, I cannot exactly identify you.”

They stared at her for a minute more before saying something that threw her for a loop, smiling and bowing. “You really know how to wound your dear ol’ Princy, don’t you Lady Aura?”

Wait… what!?

She stared at him for the longest time, so long in fact, he finished righting himself after many moments, shooting her a worried glance.

He can’t be… there’s. Yes, he looks similar, but Snatcher… what!?

The teal ghost apprehensively made her approach to him, still attempting to process this new bit of information. Was it possible, him the Prince as well?

Standing before him, Aura looked him over once more. “Not that I don’t believe you per se but do you mind if I… check?”

He blinked a couple of times, confused. “I… suppose so?”

Reaching in between her ‘hair’ wraps, she took hold of her pendant, changing its form. Pulling it out, revealed to be a monocle of her own. It was similar to any ordinary one, but held bright flecks of light flowing through the glass.

Holding the glassware up to her eye, her grip grew tight, preparing to see this ghost in any form he could have taken in life. Much to her shock, the glass instantaneously showed her the image of her dear old friend, the Prince.

Sluggishly returning the monocle back to its original place, she changed it back to a necklace. The teal ghost didn’t know what to say at this reveal.

The blue ghost went to touch her but stopped short and positioned the hand to the back of his head, scratching it. “Did you learn what you needed to?”

A nod but nothing more.

“That’s good.” He too was at a loss of words. After a while, the lengthy silence started to become uncomfortable for him. “Well, I know we both have a lot of questions for each other. Um…”

“If you have something to ask, just do it. I don’t even know what to say right now over this.”

“Right.” He coughed before continuing. “If you don’t mind me asking… Did you at least have an enjoyable long life?”

She peered back up to him, unusually calm. “It depends on your definition and other standpoints. For a regular person or a dweller, I suppose I did. For my other bloodline, I barely even lived.”

He tilted his head and she could tell he didn’t want to be rude and ask his next immediate question.

“I died on my 21st birthday if that clears it up.”

The ghost’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting that.

“I... I’m sorry, Aura. I-“

“It’s fine, you didn’t know.”

“Well yes, but on your birthday..?” He glanced to the side, glaring daggers at nothing in particular, angry over the new tidbit. He looked back to her, sorrow evident in his features. “Really, I am sorry. It must have been hard to die so far away from home, even if you were gone on a trip.”

Aura paused, dread filling her. Oh... she had to break the news to him as well it seemed. “I had nearly forgotten Vanessa told everyone that.”

“... That wasn’t the situation?”

She almost didn’t want to tell him, it was both an embarrassment on her part and she dreads his thoughts of the matter. After much hesitation, her head shook no.

“Then, what happened?”

“... Queen Vanessa... kind of... banished me from the kingdom.”

His long silence and unemotional stare spiked her anxiety, afraid of what was to come.

“She banished you?”

A nod and she began to shake.

He ran a hand over his face, a burst of joyless laughter escaping his lips. She involuntarily flinched, not knowing what to make of it.

“She lied about the trip. Of course she did.” His false humor faded, noticing her discomfort. “You have me curious, you know of the lie yet were out of the kingdom, how is that?”

“I learned it from...” How would she describe this? It was such a peculiar subject that her mind had a terrible time wrapping around it, her hands moved on their own as she struggled to find the appropriate words. “... your other half?”

A twitch of his body. “How do you know of Snatcher?”

With all these questions her anxiety grew. She really needed to sit down. His energy set her on edge before, but now it made the nervous ghost want to bolt home even sooner. She didn’t want to take any chances for anything, especially if he lost it as Snatcher had when he found out this information.

“W-well... since the forest is where we all died, it’s hard to miss him.”

He stared at her for a moment before twisting away, floating towards the window. Once in front of it, he peered outside, covering his expression from her. Part of her craved to go over and comfort him but another urged her to stay where she was.

The teal ghost could feel her chest ache from the strain in his next words. “She killed you... didn’t she?”

“She did, yes.”

Her friend didn’t respond, silently staring outside once more.

Aura hesitantly floated to him, her concern outweighing her fear. Once beside him, she waited a moment before speaking to him in a soft nature. “Moon... can I call you that? Or is that just what the child calls you?”

She heard him discreetly clear his throat and paid it no mind, waiting for his response. “I go by Moonjumper now, though you may refer to me as Moon or anything you have prior.”

On instinct, she would like to go back to her old habits but felt guilty anytime she accidentally referred to Snatcher as “Princy”. He didn’t mind, but she didn’t want to bring up things that could hurt him, she certainly wouldn’t with Moonjumper either.

She decided to try this new name out. “Moonjumper...” Ok, it’ll take some getting used to. “This is a foolish question for me to ask, but... are you all right?"

Given his mood, Aura half expected a snarky response, though this specter was good at proving her wrong.

“No... I’m not.”

Hesitantly, she laid a hand against his arm. At the contact he recoiled, causing her to retract her hand as fast as lightning.

“S-sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s fine. Just...” He quietly chuckled. “You were always concerned about being near me, it’s strange to have you willingly this close let alone touching me.”

The dweller gently poked him to test his claim. This time he didn’t flinch but a slight smile grew on his face.

“Satisfied?”

“Never.”

He snickered again, ceasing at her hand making full contact with his arm.

She was about to say something to him, but the door opening and closing startled both souls, affectively interrupting their conversation.

“Ok Moon, I’m all ready for-” The child paused, noticing not one, but two strange entities staring at her. “Bed…?”

Aura’s eyes darted around restlessly, unsure how to handle this.

Moonjumper stared at his little charge, unsure of how to address the situation. Julia beat him to the punch though, terribly excited.

“Moon, why didn’t you tell me you had another friend?”

“I… um…”

The small child ran over to the pair, shaking out of the excitement of meeting another unique character.

“Have you just been hiding them from me the whole time? Where’d they come from? Can they do all sorts of cool stuff like you?”

Julia threw out questions faster than the duo could process them and continued to do so. Aura wondered if the child even took a breath between rapid-firing them out.

She tilted back, eyes squinting at Moonjumper in question. He shrugged and held a hand up to the child.

“Young one.”

She stopped rambling but was still delighted.

“You must calm down, it’s time for rest.”

“Aw, but Moon.”

“No buts. You’ve been having trouble sleeping and don’t you dare try to deny it. Bed.”

The child pouted as she glanced between both ghosts, but obeyed. If it wasn’t so late, Aura was sure the child would stomp her feet as she made her way to the mattress. She angrily tucked herself in bed, staring at both of them, pout still present.

“Julia…”

She pouted further.

Aura chuckled, floating over to the girls bed and began tucking her in properly. Julia’s pout disappeared at this, taking in the strange ghost.

The large teal ghost carefully sat on the bed, blue eyes meeting green. “If you are having trouble sleeping, you should try to get enough rest while you can.” Her large hand ruffled the child’s orange locks. “I don’t know if I’ll be sticking around long enough, but I can tell you my name.” Glancing side to side, the large ghost leaned in like she was hiding a secret, whispering to the child. “My name is Aura.”

Julia blushed at the odd feeling of having her head messed with yet giggled at the ghost’s act of secrecy. She whispered back, “I’m Julia.”

“What a beautiful name.” She ruffled the girls head once more before straightening and removing her hand.

The child took notice of Aura beginning to leave her bed, darting out to grab her hand. The ghost paused, head tilting in question.

“Please stay.”

“Julia I-”

“Actually, Aura...” Her gaze shifted to Moonjumper. He was hesitating, glancing between both girls. “Would you mind staying with Julia for a while? I have something that demands my immediate attention.”

Aura felt like she knew what it was he would be leaving for but didn’t call him out on it, looking between him and the girl before nodding.

“All right.”

Julia silently cheered, kicking her feet in excitement.

“That doesn’t mean you get to stay up all night Julia.”

Her head nodded rapidly, just happy that Aura was staying with her longer.

Moonjumper’s eyes glanced between both girls, apprehension in his features. Before Aura could question the blue ghost, his form faded, leaving the two girls alone.

Unease began to settle in the ghost’s stomach but was drawn out of it because of the bouncing figure beside her. Never did she believe a child would be so excited to be near a ghost, especially as one such as herself, but here was one.

Taking a chance, she looked to the small child, fatigue and wonder shining behind those big green eyes.

“Have you known Moon for long?”

“In a sense, yes. In another, no.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well… before I died, I had known him personally for only a few short years. I’ve been dead for several hundred now and have not seen him until this moment. It depends on how you look at it.”

The child nodded before adding in her own thoughts. “I’ve only known him a while, short like you.” Her face scrunched up. “I… haven’t been keeping him from you, have I?”

Aura blinked in confusion, tilting her head to the side. “Dear, I doubt you’ve kept him away from me, especially this long, it’s nothing to fret about. Besides, with you keeping him company, I’m sure he’s been happy with the time you’ve spent together.”

“Yeah, but what about you?”

“I’ve been… fine.”

The being fine part applied to current years, but the beginning of her death? Not so much. She wasn’t about to tell a child of her violent beginnings of the afterlife though.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ve been… preoccupied with other matters and have recently come into contact with others I once knew.”

Nodding, Julia did her best to hold in a yawn but horribly failed. Aura smiled behind her mask, running a caring hand over the child’s head.

“If I’m here tomorrow, you can continue answering your questions. Rest is important.”

A soft whine escaped Julia. “But if you leave, I can’t ask anymore… need to ask... now.” Another yawn escaped the child, tears forming in her eyes from that one. “Besides… havin’ a tough time sleepin’.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“I’m afraid the boogeyman will come back…”

“Boogeyman?”

To the ghost’s surprise, the child somewhat curled in on herself. “A mean man who liked to scare me. Moon said he wouldn’t come back, but I always get this feeling that he’s there still, watching.”

Aura frowned, sensing the worry radiate off the child. Either this monster was real or a very detailed figment of her imagination. She’d have to ask Moonjumper about it if she stayed longer.

“Tell me, Julia, is there anything that makes you feel better?”

The child stayed silent for a while, eyes vacant as she stared at her legs.

“... I used to talk to the moon… it helped me a lot. Even more after Moon showed up from it one night.”

A clawed hand went to the chin of her mask, holding it in thought. Well, she’s not the moon nor is she Moonjumper. What could Aura provide that they could not? After a moment, an idea struck her.

“Julia. How do you feel about the stars?”

A slight frown graced the child’s face, her eyes filled with another question as she turned them upon the dweller.

“The stars?”

“Yes, the sun and moon may be pillars of the cycle of life, but the stars of the universe surround everything, accenting the beauty of the unknown. Not to mention, the stars certainly complement the moon at night, yes?”

The child somewhat understood where this was going, nodding lethargically. “The stars are pretty, just can’t see them that often…”

“How about this; If you promise to go to sleep, I’ll show you some stars before you do so.” The ghost hesitantly looked around then leaned in to whisper, “Just don’t tell Moonjumper about it ok? Don’t need him jealous.”

The child’s eyes widened, her excitement reignited. “Whoa really? Ok, I’ll go to sleep after then!”

Not even a second of thinking and the child already agreed, adolescents were certainly something else.

“All right, I’ll hold you to your word then, child.”

Holding a hand out, a golden ball began to form within Aura’s palm, gradually growing in size. Once the golden sphere reached the size of her hand, the ghost gracefully lifted it into the air, letting it float up to the ceiling. Julia watched, enamored with the beautiful glow, even more so as the ball burst into small spheres and diamonds with contact, the light particles spreading around the room.

The child’s eyes grew wide, sitting up in bed watching the descent of the fractals. Several froze in place at a certain height, twinkling like the stars in the night sky, others took several more moments before they stopped as well. Room filled with dazzling light, Julia could swear she was in her own little part of space.

“So cool…”

Smiling softly, Aura couldn’t help but agree.

With a flick of a finger, one light languidly drifted to her palm, twinkling in white and rainbow-ish hues. The action drew in the young one’s attention, scooting closer to the ghost to gain a better view.

“Don’t stare young one, you’ll injure your eyes.”

Registering the words, the child blinked several times before retreating and rubbing her exhausted eyes. She was still trying to fight sleep, but the light of Aura’s magic seemed to calm the child further. Julia slumped against the large ghost as her eyes struggled to stay awake.

Gently caressing the child’s head, Aura began softly humming a tune, seeing Julia relax further. Her eyes no longer struggled to stay open, now remaining shut for the night. To Aura’s surprise, the child still tried to interact with her.

“Miss… Aura…?”

“Yes, young one?

“Thank you… you’re so nice and cool… just like Moon… I hope you get to stay…” A yawn interrupted her as she snuggled closer to the ghost, laying an arm over Aura’s ‘lap’. "… and talk with him… he… smile… more…”

Aura didn’t know how to respond to the child even after she drifted to sleep, leaving the ghost to stare at her sleeping form.

Refocusing on the room after several minutes, with a wave of her hand, the magic particles broke apart, dissolving and returning the room to its natural state.

Returning her hand to her lap, her hands folded together as her gaze drifted to the window, eyes settling upon the moon.

Aura was unsure how long Moonjumper would be gone for but prayed that he would not do anything reckless. Of course, if he was anything like Snatcher, something might wound up happening, regardless. She just hopes he’d be safe.

Her anxiety ate away at her again as she recalled the uncomfortable feeling his magic had brought her before, looking down at Julia with worry. It was unknown why his magic had morphed the way it did, but her best guess would be similar as to why it did for Snatcher; Queen Vanessa. Aura hoped that this would not cause any issues for Julia in the foreseeable future.

Though faint, she could sense his magic once more; the hatred from his emotions wafting through her senses, causing her to shiver.

Thinking back to Julia’s words, should she leave? Perhaps she shouldn’t depart yet, even if she desired to return home. The dweller doubts Moonjumper would go as far as Vanessa with unwarranted murder, but something tells her that there’s more to this situation of his than meets the eye.

If she found his intentions to be unjust, Aura would have to take care of the specter with a heavy heart.

A hand unconsciously slipped beneath her wraps, grabbing hold of her birthright. “Ancestor… please give me strength if it ever comes to that…”

For the rest of the night, Aura remained unmoving, lost deep in thought.

#Aura #Julia #original character #A Hat in Time OC #AU #Moonjumper #glottia writes

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kounkibou · 4 years

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HC: Nagito’s Parents

After a lot of encouraging from friends and followers, I’m actually going to make this post. It’s something that I’ve alluded to a few times in posts and replies, but I’ve never said outright. I’m aware it’s a “hot take” among people who RP Nagito, and that’s why I’ve been hesitant.

It’s my RP blog, though, so I can do what I want.

So let’s do this. Let’s talk about Nagito’s parents and his relationship with them.

One of the first things I do when I take on a character is think about their upbringing and what sort of things they went through. With Nagito, a lot of it was put out there in his FTEs. He glosses over most of his traumatic experiences, but we can tell that’s just how he deals with stressful situations. He’s been through so many of them that his coping mechanism is to hope for something good afterward, to count on his luck to give him something in return for the misfortune.

I mention this because stating something like watching your parents die horribly in front of you in a matter-of-fact way with a smile just shows how traumatic it was for him.

The hot take in this headcanon is simple. Nagito’s parents loved him, and he loved them. I understand where the opposite comes from as Nagito in the first trial says (Full Disclosure: this is taken from Ultimate Luck and Hope and Despair but he says pretty much the same thing in game.) “I’ve never received a compliment for my appearance before. Not even from my own mother.” I’ve actually noticed that this is really more of a trend in the English-speaking audience as most Japanese artists I’ve seen imply a good relationship with them. I’m not sure if it’s a translation thing because I don’t know enough Japanese to read the text or understand the audio, but it’s something to think about.

My problem with this is it’s such an offhanded comment, and he doesn’t elaborate on it in his FTEs. In fact, from those FTEs, we can infer the opposite. This is something my good friend Nova ( @theultimatemusemess ) pointed out to me way back. If Nagito’s parents didn’t love him, why would they take him on a vacation with them? They could afford for someone to look after him while they were gone. If they really didn’t care, they could even just leave him by himself.

I know quite a bit about wills and/or transferring belongings after death, but not much about how it works in other places. However, Nagito received all of their wealth and possessions. We could put this up to inheritance laws designating the child to be the recipient of properties, and Nagito has no other living relatives. However, these two were wealthy. I imagine they either of their own volition or under someone’s advice put a will in place.

Nagito says that his inheritance gave him independence, which is scary considering how young he must have been. He says he was in elementary school. That gives us an age of 6-12. No matter how you swing it, that’s young to be living on your own.

Why does this matter? Nagito was little when his parents died. That’s a large span of age possibilities. Depending on how young he was, he might not remember a lot of his life before. His parents’ death was a big event. Anything before that pales in comparison. Plus, Nagito has lost so many people, he tries to distance himself from everyone. I imagine he tries to belittle his attachment to his parents to protect himself from the grief.

To put it simply, as I said in my tags, Nagito isn’t a reliable narrator in his own story.

That’s all of the canon and albeit limited research I have to offer to excuse my reasoning. Now, let’s get on to the actual headcanon part. I’m going to introduce you guys to Nagito’s parents, who I lovingly put together as I do parents for most of my muses.

All I have as references are doll makers. (This one specifically) In the future, I’m hoping to have actual references for them, but for now, we have this.

Nagito’s Mother

Here’s the ref sheet that I put together for her. It includes a quick rundown of information as well. Note: For both of them, I took colors for skin/hair/etc. from Nagito himself.

As it says on the tin, Miwako is a real estate agent. She’s high up in a particular agency that deals with foreign properties and buyers. As a consequence, she travels quite a bit and speaks several languages. If the agency is experiencing a problem, they ask her to resolve it as she notices details and remembers things that others put in the back of their minds. She’s been known to work herself too hard and fall asleep where she drops.

On the outside, Miwako is stone faced and looks like she’s locked on and ready to kill. It comes in handy when she’s working, but it hinders her in her social life. She cares about other people and their well-being. It’s just...hard for her to convey that properly. The only people who can easily do that are her husband, son, and close friends.

The only problem is her work doesn’t leave a lot of time for her child, who she loves very much. She carries pictures of Nagito on her person and goes from :| to :D when asked about him. Think of Maes Hughes pulling out tons of pictures of his daughter, and you have a good vision of how Miwako feels about Nagito.

One thing Miwako loves is reading. She funds a local library and donates books once she’s finished with them. Her favorite way to bond with Nagito is to read to him, starting his love of literature. Sometimes, she enlists her husband to do silly voices so they can all spend time together. A few times, she’s accidentally read Nagito bits from her own book (sleepily) before opening a children’s book when she gets in bed. Oops.

It was Miwako’s idea to get a dog. Since both of them worked so much, they wanted their son to have a companion while they were gone. Thus, they got Taiki shortly after Nagito was born. He ended up being keeping track of Nagito, who, as I’ll touch on in another headcanon post, got into trouble and got lost frequently. This stressed both parents out because that’s their baby and he ends up in these terrifying situations too often for comfort.

Miwako is really a nice person. She just finds it hard to communicate with others on a personal level. She loves her family, but she doesn’t have a lot of time for them.

Nagito’s Father

Kozei is an interesting character. His specialty is medical research, something that he got an interest in as he grew older and watched parents, grandparents, etc. decline in health. He wanted to come up with ways to help ease the pain of aging and improve everyone’s quality of life.

Partially because of his family name and partially because of his own abilities, he rose up in the ranks and ended up at the top. This is something he isn’t always happy about because he hates doing paperwork and going through valid procedures. He also prefers to do things on his own rather than having other people do them for him. Kozei ends up doing actual work more often than his fellow big-wigs would like. He’s dedicated to his work and truly believes in it.

Personality-wise, Kozei is a bit of an airhead. He seems lazy on the surface, not always dressing formally or caring about his appearance. Getting him to brush his hair is an ordeal. He likes to make jokes and keep things lighthearted, one of the ways he was able to break through Miwako’s tough exterior. He’s a little forgetful sometimes, but when it comes down to it, he’ll remember small things like a person’s favorite color or a food they said they liked one time in passing.

Kozei’s work schedule is just as heavy as Miwako’s, but he gets home earlier and doesn’t have to travel as much. Some days when he feels bad about leaving his kid, he takes Nagito with him and sits him at his desk in his own special chair with crayons and paper. Kozei has so many drawings up in his office, and he’s proud of them. His son made those.

He has the more excited personality out of the two. Kozei’s thing is science. Anything science. Chemistry, biology, physics, you name it. He loves scientific advances and will nerd out about them. He’ll lay in bed late at night and talk Miwako’s ear off about something cool that she doesn’t understand. He’ll explain astrophysics to five-year-old Nagito, who just thinks he’s talking funny and laughs.

If you need someone to pick up your spirits, Kozei is your guy. If he believes in something, he believes in it ride or die, and that includes your friendship as well as his medical research.

Kozei and Miwako’s Relationship

How did these two meet? Simply put, Miwako sold Kozei’s father property, and since Kozei’s father was trying to involve him in his affairs as preparation for the future, he was there. They got to know one another, and on the last day they were going to interact, Kozei asked Miwako if she’d like to meet up sometime...possibly over dinner. At first, she had this face like “Are you serious?” but he did this thing where he gestured expectantly at her with this goofy grin that gradually got more nervous as the silence went on. Something about that tickled her funny bone, and she lost it. This nerd was asking her out, and he obviously knew how much of a stretch it was. She had to say yes, you know? He made her laugh.

They actually dated for a few years since their schedules made it hard to meet up a lot. After a few months, Kozei was on board for the long haul, ready to make the big commitment. Miwako was the more cautious one about things, wanting to feel it out before getting too caught up in the romance. He proposed to her after taking her to the same restaurant they went on their first date. (Obvious Spoiler: She said yes.)

They were fairly set financially, and they both wanted to have a child. However, it took quite awhile for pregnancy to happen. Miwako isn’t the best at doing romantic things, so the way she told Kozei was really just...

Miwako: *walks out* Hey, I’m pregnant. Kozei: Oh. Kozei: Wait what?!

As a couple, they have an open, honest relationship. If they have issues, they talk to one another and make sure they’re both on the same page before talking about doing anything big. Kozei tries to make Miwako laugh when she gets stressed. Miwako lets her guard down in front of him because she trusts him, and he’s a sweetheart. If asked, Kozei would tell you that his wife does most of the hard work and is a genius. He’s her biggest fan.

They’re honestly just really supportive of each other and will do anything to make sure the other is happy.

Nagito & His Parents

Like any new parents, they weren’t experts. They did some kind of silly things. Kozei may or may not have forgotten in a sleepy haze to put Baby Nagito in his crib, and the two of them may have had an exchange something like:

Kozei: Where's the baby? Miwako: I gave him to you. Kozei: shIT! NAGITO WHERE ARE YOU? Miwako: HE'S A BABY! HE'S NOT GONNA ANSWER!

The two of them find him later comfortably on a cushion that fell on the floor.

Because they work so much, they had to arrange for someone to care for Nagito while they were away. They had housekeepers and other staff to help who they paid well for their efforts. (They could certainly afford to, and they weren’t stingy with their money.) A lot of Nagito’s time was spent with a caretaker, but when his parents were home, they doted on him. They loved him very much. Nagito thought the world of them. He couldn’t wait for his parents to get home so he could tell them about his day.

They taught him as much as they could, and he learned some of their behaviors. A lot of Nagito’s body language mirrors Miwako’s, and his excitement about things he’s passionate about reflects Kozei’s. They weren’t in his life for long, but he had a close bond with them. They spent time with him and took him fun places when they had days off so they could all bond.

I wanted to compile some of the funny scenarios I’ve thought of, so here’s a one.

Kozei: Your mother works hard. Without her, I'd be some idiot rambling about science and probably homeless. Nagito: But science is cool. Kozei: I KNOW RIGHT?!

Another where Miwako is teaching Nagito what to do in case of an emergency.

Miwako: What would you do if you found me or your father on the floor and we wouldn't wake up? Nagito: Go to the kitchen and eat whatever I want. Kozei: *snorting*

And one last one after Miwako actually cooks dinner.

Miwako: How was it? Nagito: *not impressed* It tasted bad. Kozei: That's very mean. She went through all the trouble to cook for you. Say something nice about it. Nagito: Thanks, Mama, for trying.

These are just examples of the dynamic and how they’re pretty normal parents.

Their Death

I did way too much research about this vacation they went on. I looked at the location, what things people could do there, and what kind of flights needed to be taken. The last time I checked, it took...three different flights to get from Tokyo to San Cristóbal. (I can’t check right now flights right now are sketchy. Future Tiki who survived the pandemic, fact check me.) It’s a lot of flying.

There’s not a definitive answer as to whether this was right after they landed or right before they took off. I like to think it was the latter because I hate happiness. What’s better than a nice, fun vacation that ends with dead parents? (Heavy sarcasm.) I’m going to go with that.

The basics are that the plane was hijacked and a meteorite the size of a fist killed the hijackers and also Nagito’s parents. The truth of the situation is muddied mostly due to the fact that Nagito only provides that much information. He likely blocked out that memory and is going off of what he’s been told. This is just my take on it, but I imagine his information is so, for lack of a better word, flat because he doesn’t want to remember the situation first hand. His explanation is like that of an outsider, not someone who was there in real time. That and he was a child. (For the record, I place him at about 7 or 8.)

My interpretation of events is as follows. The plane was hijacked still on the runway. The passengers are afraid. These two have a young child they want to protect. They were probably fairly close to the hijackers since we don’t have the details of anyone else being hurt in this situation, though I do think it’s possible there were more.

In order to protect their child, maybe they tried to reason with the hijackers. Maybe they wanted to resolve things peacefully so everyone could go home and the hijackers could get a lesser punishment. Either way, both parties were killed, and Nagito became an orphan.

Now this child not even in double digits is in a different country, his parents just died in front of him, there’s strangers all over the place, and there’s a whole investigation likely happening. He’s terrified and alone. These people are talking around him, and a lot of what they’re saying doesn’t make sense. (Whether it’s the language barrier or just because he’s too young to understand doesn’t matter. Maybe it’s both.) Just imagine how scary that would be.

Imagine this tiny child saying he just wants his mom and dad and that he wants to go home. It’s heartbreaking.

How Nagito Copes With It

I’ve said it several times, but I’m going to put it all right here to make sure my thoughts are together.

Nagito tells Hajime that this event gave him his independence. It was one of the first incidents that showed him his “luck cycle” in action. In hindsight, he sees this event as more evidence that yes this is what’s happening. He looks back on it as a positive to protect himself. He was the last person left in his family, all alone. I like to imagine there were still people who worked in and around the home, but as a whole, he was by himself.

Without fully realizing it, as he grew older, Nagito ended up dealing with this grief by burying the happier memories. He built up this narrative that his parents were indifferent to him in order to avoid mourning them. The reason he doesn’t talk about them, what he says about his mother, how nonchalant he is when he mentions what happened? It’s his way of keeping himself safe. If he thinks of them as people who didn’t have an attachment to him, he won’t miss them. He won’t feel sad.

To put it simply, Nagito fabricated a narrative where his loving parents weren’t as loving in order to keep from feeling the pain of losing them and not having them there as he grew up.

There you have it. That’s the long, in-depth post about Nagito’s parents! If you read through the whole thing, thanks! I’m still nervous about posting it, so hit me up if you have any opinions or ideas or if you want me to talk more about things!

#x Absolute Hope || Text #x Ultimate Luck || Headcanons #x Repressed Memories || Childhood #death cw #parent death cw

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courage-a-word-of-justice · 4 years

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Magia Record 4

There’s a fish behind Iroha. Also, I was confused about the ketchup cake thing Jenn mentiond in one of her posts until I saw it here.(On a related note, ketchup cake seems to really exist…but only in Canada.)

Ah! Tsuruno. I’ve heard of her from reading around about this mobage.

The coding of the episode went funny again…

I feel like despite this being everything Madoka was, this seems to have lost some of the charm somehow. I’ve been reading that others are having similar experiences, though. Update: I think I know why now…although there are magical girl events fuelling the entire thing, the show is currently more bent on being a CGDCT. That’s why I’m not so happy with it…I dunno about others, though.

I suspected Séance Shrine was Mizuna Shrine…I mean, it was right behind Iroha and co.

Who was that blonde girl…?

I thought I just saw face-stealing aliens swoop in (i.e. someone didn’t bother drawing in the girls’ faces). I thought that was just a Bones thing exclusive to BSD.

“Olibe oil” (sic). Also, there are creepy blue (green?) figures walking the aisles…

I notice Iroha needed an extra bounce to get over the gate.

What’s that orange marking on the girls’ faces…? Update: Reading the wiki reveals it’s the Witch’s Kiss, or something similar to it.

Uchitama 3

Well, it says “chome” but gets translated to “street”…which is a bit weird. A chome is a city district, which functions much like a street but isn’t the same.

I just realised the title card has a dog’s face on it. Maybe next time it’ll be a cat’s face…

Oh my gosh, it’s a Yu-Gi-Oh duel! Teenager-ness…(?) What is that (LOL)?! *squints at screen* Oh, chuunibyou. That makes sense.

They even materialised the (Gon’s) chair! (LOL)

At least this matchup isn’t Bull vs. Momo…thank goodness(!)

I seriously love how much skin they make Bull show…(LOL…?)

Well, if the race to the top is exciting then the race to the bottom should be humiliating, no? That’s how these things work.

LOL, just seeing a badass dude that’s meant to represent a wolf howling like one is hilarious. (But seriously, are any of these neighbourhood dogs a Bad Enough Dude, to paraphrase an old game meme?)

Don’t Naruto run, Pochi! It’s dangerous!

Ahhhhhhh, so that’s why people call Pochi “Shiro” and feed him tofu…

The video got encoded funny again…

Uchitama 4

This is like Wakasa all over again…

The “My Name is Gon” title is a reference to “I Am a Cat” (Wahagai wa Neko de Aru). It actually doesn’t have the word for “name” in there, which is a bit weird…Update: It’s about the day-to-day introspection and life of a cat and the wagahai suggests the cat thinks rather highly of himself, so I’d assume the former (applied to a dog of course), if not both of those things to be part of this.

The fact that Gon doesn’t move his mouth while telling us weird things (such as how Bull’s sweater reminds him of an old lady in Osaka) is hilarious. It’s almost like a play with Gon as narrator.

See? That titlecard has a different dog’s face now! (I believe it’s Kuro’s, actually.)

This series is actually really informative about cats and dogs!

The Detective Conan parody cat is pretty interesting in regards to how the series wants to play with the human/animal dichotomy.

Now the titlecard has a cat’s face.

This song is so energetic! The banners are pretty funny too – I mean, “trying to get a ripped body” is impossible for a dog, right?

Yyyyyyyyup, Ume is singing this song (Sanchome no Hoshi* or The Star of 3rd District*)! I’m being spoilt!

Eizouken 5

Iron Giant…I thought the name sounded familiar. Turns out it’s a Brad Bird-directed movie.

This episode is very Scott...LOL.

I like how they showed the back of the guy to correspond with the back of the robot.

Iruma 17

Gap = sukima, as you might know from a post I made re: Mairimashita! Iruma-kun puns.

“Yes, boss!” in English.

Why do people being questioned at a koban always have katsudhum? (Hataraku Maousama reference)

Ooh, this long-haired demon from the Game or New Magic battler is hot!!!

That's the 1st time Acchan and Bakemi appear...

I'd assume the ga in Gabuko means gakkou (school).

Now it's ki su ma...(instead of sukima)

Iruma 18

Aw, Kiriwo's so cute...

...and he's now a sadist. (Good job, me...I don't like sadists much.)

The cyclops girl's name is Dosanko, huh?

Hanabi are "fire flowers" (translating somewhat literally), which is why they "bloom" in the translation.

Update: Oh, I accidentally skipped ep. 17. I was wondering how Sabro got to hold up Comecome's stall…

BnHA 76

I’m not sure how the subbers got “Go entropy! Plus Chaos!”, although it might have something to do with Saikou da! (which I made out from listening to the audio).

Okay, now you can hear them say “Plus Chaos”.

Note Overhaul’s eyecatch background is purple, which contrasts Deku’s green. By the way, the eyecatch says that Overhaul belongs to the Shie Hassaikai and not the League…the guy’s always been picky about not being associated with the League.

The one time I turn the volume off, I don’t need it (LOL).

Dame da is closer to “It’s useless” or “You’re useless” than “Naughty girl”, subbers.

The coronavirus has taught me that masks make people seem less human, especially those with weird mouths like Overhaul’s plague doctor/bird one.

BnHA 77

In one of the Discord servers where Mudamaid appears, I decided to take Chronostasis. Why? He isn’t that bad-looking when he hasn’t got his mask on, to be real with you.

Froppy uses “senpai”, not Tamaki’s hero name.

I believe Tamaki calls Tsuyu “Kero-chan”, hence “Miss Ribbit”.

I wanna cry…I know Nighteye won’t see All Might again until All Might himself dies…(and this is because I’ve read the manga – thanks Viz and Shonen Jump for doing that!)

Shigaraki makes me beg the question…where do those hands of his come from??? Update: Ewwwwwwwww, those hands come from individuals affected by Tomura’s Quirk! (I think that’s a spoiler though…)

I almost got to the point of crying. I mean, I knew it would happen, but seeing it animated…makes it worse, y’know??? (Also, I accidentally might’ve stuck my finger in my eye when I was trying to wipe away tears, so either way, I teared up.)

BnHA 78

Huh? This OP is awfully cheerful after Nighteye’s death…I think it’s called Star Maker? Update: Star Marker by Kana Boon.

Well, you do realise I don’t know about anything after this point…all over again. So your surprise will be mine too.

LOL , it’s a Titan! (Apparently – according to the wiki pages I read – Gigantomachia is based on the Titans of lore, so…that’s true in more than one sense when you take into account Attack on Titan.)

The birbs are so cute!

That was just a few solid minutes of recap. Not as bad as Detective Conan where they frontend it, but still bad.

Hmm? I thought I saw black hair on Kurogiri…?

“He’s a walking disaster.” – That’s what I’d say about Bakugou, LOL.

Shouto “Daddy Issues” Todoroki taking the stage again…not that I mind, but…isn’t this Midoriya’s story?

I think I saw a Funko Pop All Might in the ED…?

You can see someone with a red wing Quirk. Based on what I’ve read around, that guy is Hawks.

Deku’s shirt at the end says “sheets”, not “shirt” (it’s missing a small ya).

BnHA 79

“…and I like udon better!” - *facepalm* That’s not how you make friends, Yoarashi.

Gang Orca’s like the Gordon Ramsay of heroes…with much less swearing.

*laughs behind hands as kids spill out the door* Welp, this is going to be real good.

This blonde kid is basically Monoma ver. 2!!! I hate him already!!!

Oh…that’s surprisingly strategic, Bakugou…*shows image of kid being dangled by a rope* Uh…or maybe not.

Who’s this guy with the bolo tie, anyway…?

Uchitama 5

I seriously thought this cat was Nora…(Sakura)

Does “big sister” refer to Lilly or another cat…?

Oh, I was wondering why Sakura didn’t have a cat tail…turns out she’s a pig. (Huh. It reminds me of a kinder version of the Africa Salaryman mixer joke.)

I like how open the series is in regards to interspecies love. Then again,…bestiality is an absolute no-no in my books, so maybe not.

Is it just me, or is there a slight bruise around Nora’s left eye…?

It’s like a Boueibu reunion! Shirai and Ume at the baths! Yay~!

There’s something absolutely silly about seeing anime boys hide in cupboards like cats. It puts a stupid smile on my face, like Eizouken does.

“I told you to get in the bath already!” – Gaddammit, Koma!

How do Gon’s glasses not fog up in the bath? (MST3K mantra required)

Oh, Nora does have a bruise around his eye! What’s it from, though?

Way to upsell Koma’s services, Kuro. (partially sarcastic…?)

“Can I say we’re having a doggone good time?” – Remind me to check what that sounds like in Japanese later. Update: Kuro says something that sounds lik izoizo in the line beforehand and then matches it in this line. In order to match the puns, there’s a pun in the English translation too.

ID: Invaded 5

Matsuoka’s glasses thing reminds me of Kanamori (Eizouken)…

“hole experience” – Is that a pun…?

Never ask a woman her age.

Hmm…”maidenly innocence”…

Why do some people believe “never mind” is one word???

I just noticed there’s a differently coloured bar on the title card…maybe that’s how far into the episode you should be. Also, is this well a pun on “falling for you”?

I noticed the blood had a weird texture to it. Also, I noticed the woman had heterochromia bfore it was pointed out she’s not real.

I have a theory. See, John(nie) Walker is an alcohol (sake) brand, right? This is Sakaido (as opposed to Anaido, who’s the Perforator and ana = hole). It’s the same character, so (I suspect) Sakaido’s crime has to do with alcohol…

Hmm…this ain’t gonna pass the Bechdel test after all…

Oh! Post-credits segment! Keep watching.

ID: Invaded 6

“Matsuoka was injured” – Er, he still has the knife in him…?

Ohhhhhh…this has gotta be Hondomachi!

I predict Hondomachi and Sakaido are going to go head-to-head someday. Update: Or those two vs. Johnnie Walker.

There was a cut-off footprint…

Isn’t it possible for a person to kill someone without knowing their name?

*cries* Sakaido! I’ve never seen you so emotional before…!

ID: Invaded 7

So Narihisago did look like Sakaido at one point…when his daughter was murdered.

The thing that reads cognition particles has “Back ground. Rad. Lev.” on the bottom of its screen.

I don’t have the sound on right now, so I dunno what Matsuoka was reacting to specifically…(aside from the guy owning up to whatever was done.)

Interestingly, Katsuyama has the character for “win” in his name. However, this is the only link I’ve found between the serial killers and their names.

There’s a character which appears in both the word for “martial arts” and one of the (dead) professional fighters – Takehiko Fujita. It means stuff like “war” and “military power”.

Oh! There’s a bar on the titlecard and this one is up to 900 of 1200…I wonder what that means? Is that an indication of time, perhaps? Also in the bottom left, “CAM 025”.

Miyo Hijiriido?! Oh my gosh! This is new, indeed!

Okay, so the characters for Miyo look like this: 聖井戸御代 The first character in “Miyo” is the same one that denotes “go” in goryoushin (formal way to denote “parents”) and similar words in keigo. The characters which aren’t “well” (water well) are the character for “saint/holy” and “age” (as in the period of time, alternatively “generation”), aside from the one I’ve already discussed. Therefore, I’d suggest Miyo is actually “the great detective [who ushers in a new] age” or “the great detective [of the current] age”. Update: Apparently Miyo means “age of a ruler”, as in the period of their reign (specifically referring to the emperor if it needs to be). I’ve heard there’s specific words in the Japanese language used only to refer to the imperial family…this is probably one of them. That specific name combo (as “odai”) is also a very polite way to refer to spare change, although that doesn’t seem very useful to know.

What’s that thing on Tamotsu’s wrist…? (A watch? Wouldn’t that be illegal in a prison like this?)

Interestingly, all other killers wear white. Narihisago is the only one in black (or brown…or whatever colour that is).

What would Miyo need a key for? The key to the mystery, or a physical key?

I don’t think you can see Narihisago’s face in any of the pics he has of Muku or his wife.

Ooh…Sakaido’s pretty ripped. (Me likey…not that I would like a killer…)

Why is Sakaido…or I should say Narihisago…dead in his own imagination, huh?

Hmm…Miyo wears a black singlet or sleeveless top of some sort under that cape...poncho…Holmes cosplay thing. She still has a gun in her detective form, too.

Notably, no detective wears a skirt in this world…*sigh* So much for Nancy Drew and Miss Marple…

Muku has smiley faces on her hair decs.

Does that mean you’ve met the real Muku…? (I think this is Momoki speaking about Muku.) Update: It might be Habutae, actually. I never really got a grasp on the names of the peanut gallery.

Hondomachi’s never seen the cockpit in real life, right?

Well-ception! (It’s a bit of a joke that when there’s something in something, I call it [X]ception as a homage to Inception.)

Table flip! That meme hasn’t been around for a while, come to think of it…

I find it interesting that they point to the circles of the roof when talking about pi. As you know, the circle and pi are related.

Hmm? I don’t remember seing the quote “Let us try to make this world a better place” in this episode…

#simulcast commentary #uchi tama?! uchi no tama shirimasen ka?#uchitama?! have you seen my tama?#keep your hands off eizouken!#Eizouken ni wa Te wo Dasu Na!#Boku no Hero Academia #My Hero Academia #ID: Invaded #mairimashita! iruma kun #Welcome to Demon School! Iruma-kun #Magia Record #Chesarka watches ID: Invaded #Chesarka watches MI-k #Chesarka watches BnHA #Chesarka watches Uchitama #Chesarka watches Magia Record #Chesarka watches Eizouken

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spartanguard · 6 years

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something in the water, part 1

Summary: Emma is sent to investigate a supposed sea monster appearance in her hometown. Thankfully, her family there knows her secret: that at night, she transforms into a swan. And she knows that whoever the universe thinks her soulmate is, as dictated by the tattoo on her side, won't be there. Though maybe she was wrong to assume that. And when did a merman start hanging out in the ocean near Storybrooke?

rated M (eventually) | 5.5k | AO3

A/N: Here it finally is—my story for @cssns!! I came up with the idea ages ago but never really found time to write until this event came up. It should be about 7 chapters, but of course I was silly and signed up to post on the first day of band camp, so the next chapter won’t go up until next week, and probably once a week from there on. Hope you like it, and thanks to @kmomof4 for organizing this! I’ll be posting accompanying art as well!

When it came to belief systems, Emma Nolan wasn't what most people would call normal. (Actually, in most regards, she wasn't.)

She didn't place much stock in things like having luck or wishing on stars. Neither had ever really been on her side.

She hadn't quite made up her mind on God (or gods, or goddesses, or whatever). She took care of herself just fine.

The supernatural, though—vampires, zombies, magic, et cetera? There wasn’t much choice when it came to her belief in that, given the way her life had gone and the people she tended to hang out with—even if society as a whole still thought it was all fiction.

But the one thing that everyone believed in—and that Emma remained skeptical on, despite all the proof she'd seen—was soulmates. The idea of a predestined love dictated by some higher being before you were born and only verified by a random, tattoo-like birthmark seemed forced at best and unreliable at worst. It's not like the marks spelled it out—there was plenty of room for interpretation of the symbolism of each soulmark, which also meant plenty of room to have a heart broken.

She had trusted in them, once upon a time, when she met a guy named Neal who’d spent a great deal of his childhood on a ship. The mark splashed across her ribcage made sense with that, and his—of what looked like a feather on his bicep—seemed appropriate for someone like her, and with a secret like hers.

But then he found out what she was hiding, and things got awkward. And then he met Tamara and the feather turned out to be a palm leaf (apparently, that’s what that name means or something). And then things were said—tame things like, “it’s not you, it’s me and my destiny and blah-blah,” and hurtful things like “I couldn’t love someone like you anyways. Who could?”

Which meant Emma was the one left with the broken heart.

So what she’d once thought was a curse actually helped keep her heart safe, and since not everyone had a soulmark, it was easy to pretend she didn’t either.

And like he said, who could love someone like her, anyways?

Actually, she lied; there was one more thing she didn’t believe in, as presented to her by her boss one quiet Thursday afternoon.

“A sea monster? You can’t be serious, Regina.”

“Hey, I didn’t come up with it. I’m just the one who took the call.”

“Well, did you do a sanity check on the caller?”

“I didn’t have to; I know she’s insane. It’s Cruella Feinberg.”

“As in Crazy Cruella from back home? The one obsessed with dogs?” Emma and Regina both hailed from the tiny Maine town of Storybrooke—the definition of quaint. It was really no wonder they’d both escaped to Boston as soon as they could.

“The very one. And while she may have lost touch with reality, her money certainly has not.”

Emma sighed and leaned back in her desk chair. “How much?”

From where she was perched on the corner of Emma’s desk in the office of their bail bonds-slash-private investigation firm, Regina slid a folded up sheet of paper to her. Emma quirked an eyebrow with curiosity; Regina wasn’t typically one to keep things on the down-low like this, unless it was an exceptionally large payout. And this did not seem like the kind of case with one of those; usually, the people who hired them for this kind of situation were broke and/or not mentally sound, so they just played Ghostbuster—convinced the banshee or whatever it was to quit being weird, and charged the client only half of the original amount.

Emma picked up the slip and opened it. Boy, was she wrong this time. “Holy shit!” She exclaimed at the almost-six-figure sum. “This can’t possibly be real.”

“It is; I made her put up half up front to make sure she wasn’t joking. She did it without batting a heavily lined eye.”

Emma checked her desk calendar—was it April Fools or something? “What’s the catch here? This is too good to be true.”

“No catch. Unless me forcing you to take some paid time off counts.”

She scoffed. “This hardly seems like something to use my vacation time on.”

“It’s not. But it’s a two-week assignment in Storybrooke, and I’m not expecting this to take much effort on your end. Actually, I think it will end up being kind of perfect for you. Plus: you deserve it, Emma.”

She crossed her arms and leaned back in her desk chair, huffing; there was a reason she threw herself into work. It left less time for thinking, or being social, or any of those other things that tended to put Emma outside her comfort zone or onto things she’d rather not focus on.

It had been a while since she’d been home, though, and it might be nice to see her brother and sister-in-law...but it also seemed like she was taking advantage of the situation. “Are you sure, Regina? I know you’ve been busy with the Gold case; don’t you want me to stay and help with that?”

For the past several months, Regina had been investigating the disappearances of various supernatural beings—occasionally, they did get hired on legit cases from within their hidden community—with the most recent being an acquaintance of theirs, Tinkerbell, a fairy. A surprising number of her kind had gone missing, along with a werebear named Merida, a couple vampires, and a jeweler with a Midas-like touch. They had yet to find any solid leads, but all of the cases seemed to have a tie to the mysterious Mr. Gold. Emma had never met him herself, but his reputation alone had her worried for Regina’s safety whenever they met; there was no telling when a witch as gifted with magic as Regina was would be next.

(Having a boss that was also a member of the more mythical side of society—and aware of any potential limitations that might put on one’s available working hours—was certainly a perk to this job on its own, odd cases like the one currently in front of her notwithstanding.)

“I’ve got no leads right now, so there’s not much to help with,” Regina answered with a shrug. “Seriously, go spend some time with your family; have a girls night or two with Ruby; air out your feathers a bit.”

Emma gave a hard side-eye at that last comment—Regina could never resist a good bird reference around her—but she was out of arguments against taking the assignment.

She chewed on her bottom lip a bit before saying, “Promise you’ll call me if you need me back here?”

“Promise,” Regina answered, going so far as to draw an x over her heart with her finger. For Regina, that meant business.

“Then I guess I’m off to Storybrooke.”

After a quick call to her sister-in-law Snow, a fleeting trip to her apartment for some clothes and necessities hastily shoved in a threadbare duffel bag, and a stop at the gas station to fill up the tank of her 1972 yellow VW Bug, Emma was off on the 5-ish-hour drive up the coast. It wasn’t quite tourist season yet, but the snow had melted, so she opted for the slower route that kept her closer to the ocean, enjoying the panoramic views of the Atlantic as she drove.

The sign by the side of the road informing drivers that they were “Now Entering Storybrooke” eventually greeted her warmly as it had so many times before, crisp white on kelly green.

Before heading into town, she detoured down a dirt road to Cruella’s place. The Feinberg mansion was certainly more ostentatious than any other house on the road, towering over the smaller coastal cottages, but wasn’t the ridiculous display of wealth Emma had expected—it was more like an oversized bungalow made of light-colored brick.

Dogs started barking as soon as she rang the doorbell, and a shrill voice called at them to “shut it!” before the door swung open. Cruella looked much the same as she did in Emma’s memory, just with a bit more Botox: dramatic two-toned hair, a zealous amount of dark eyeshadow, and clothes just a touch too revealing.

“Oh, Emma darling, thank you so much for coming! I was thrilled when Regina told me you’d taken the case; none of those city types would ever believe me!” Cruella shouted, pulling Emma into a tight hug despite the fact that they’d hardly ever exchanged more than a few words (and that Emma had totally TP’d her house once with Ruby, but they had never been caught).

“Glad to...help…” Emma stammered, stunned at the contact. She had to take a deep breath once Cruella released her, before continuing, “So, can you tell me anything about what you’ve been seeing?”

“Oh, yes, yes—right this way!” The eccentric older woman turned on a dime and led Emma through her house, past the large painting of her now-dead husband (whose death had only been mildly suspicious), through the kitchen, and out to the massive deck that overlooked a semi-secluded cove.

“I see it almost every night when I’m having a nightcap, but only at night, so I think it’s nocturnal,” Cruella started explaining, gesturing dramatically toward the water. “It seems to be dark-colored, but it’s so hard to tell when there’s only a bit of moonlight.”

Emma wondered how strong those nightcaps were mixed, but continued on with a few more questions: how big was it (“Hmm, bigger than a dolphin, but smaller than a whale—but it has a tail like both of them.”), how long had she been seeing it (“A few months, give or take”), and why she’d hired them to investigate (“Well, I need to know what it is so I can be a hospitable host should it ever come ashore! I’m sure my friends would love to meet it!”).

None of it did anything to convince Emma that Cruella wasn’t still a few olives short of a martini, but she assured the widow that she’d get right on it.

“Let me know if I can help at all, and my property is certainly available to your use. I’m always open to some evening company,” Cruella added as Emma headed out.

“I think I’ll be okay, but thanks,” she answered, kind of quickly. “I’ll be in touch.”

She endured one more too-tight hug before hopping back in her car and starting the drive into town. Something told her it was all just the gin-fueled hallucination of a lonely old lady, but Regina was right—this case would probably work out perfectly for her, whether she found anything or not. She already spent most of her nights on the water; might was well get paid for it.

She’d get back to that later, though; now, it was time to see if the town rumor mill still worked like it used to—or at least to see how many people Snow had told of her arrival. Her old bedroom was already waiting for her, based on the last text she received, but it pretty much always was.

First things first, though: food. She easily navigated the all-too-familiar backroads and side streets that led to the center of town, one of the tiniest and most stereotypical little seaside villages known to man. Finding the diner was second nature, and her Bug looked right at home parked in front of it, almost like she’d never left. She actually recognized most of the cars nearby, but especially the two she’d parked in between; she smirked at knowing what—or rather, who—was likely waiting for her inside.

The same old bell rang against the door as she pulled it open, but was quickly drowned out by a high-pitched yelp—the only warning Emma had before being engulfed in another massive hug, but she was expecting this one. Still, she hadn’t quite braced herself enough.

“Ah, Emma! It’s really you; you’re HERE!” her best friend, Ruby Lucas, was shouting in her ear while proceeding to squeeze the life out of her.

“Let her breathe, Ruby!” a gruff voice barked from behind the counter. Despite the asphyxiation, Emma smiled at how little things ever changed.

“Sorry, sorry!” Ruby apologized as she let go; she always forgot her own strength, and now that Emma was free, she could see Granny behind them, hands on her hips and shaking her head at her granddaughter’s energy. “You know how I get around the full moon,” Ruby added quietly.

“It’s fine,” Emma assured her, even though her voice was slightly strained. Despite her friend’s lithe form, few would guess that both she and her grandmother were members of the local pack of apex predators: werewolves.

(To say Emma had grown up around the supernatural was an understatement. Maybe that was why the two of them got on so well, even if they probably shouldn’t have.)

“But once that’s past, we HAVE to have a girls’ night, okay?” she continued, gushing and taking Emma’s hands in hers. “Oh, I’m just so glad you’re here!”

“Ruby, I’m not paying ya to block the door from the paying customers!” Granny shouted before Emma could reply.

“Granny, we both know you won’t let me pay,” Emma threw back, teasing.

“Well, maybe this is the day I do!” The old lady was known for her fierce temper and penchant for orneriness; but just like any she-wolf, she was also fiercely protective of those in her pack, both the ones who actually were and the ones she’d decided were.

Emma and Ruby both just rolled their eyes, still holding hands in the entryway, when she heard the clearing of a familiar voice.

“Ruby, are you trying to hog my sister?” David, ever the big brother, was standing there with his arms crossed, trying to give a stern look that they all knew was forced.

“Yup,” Ruby threw back without missing a beat. “I’m taking her home and locking her in my house, so she’ll be all mine!”

“That’s creepy, Rubes,” Emma protested, but David spoke over her.

“Oh? And what would your new girlfriend say about that?”

Emma’s jaw dropped and Ruby looked ironically sheepish. “Ruby! You didn’t tell me!” Emma scolded, lightly shoving her friend’s shoulder.

“I was getting there…” she answered. “It’s not the sort of thing you say over text!”

Emma was going to challenge that, but Granny cut them all off. “Ruby! Let that poor girl sit down and make her some food!”

“I’ll tell you later,” she said quickly, then dashed to the kitchen in her impractical red high heels.

“Aha, my plan worked; I have you all to myself!” David proclaimed, tugging Emma into a headlock.

“Seriously?” Emma complained, though it was muffled by her brother’s ridiculously muscled arm, covered as always in plaid flannel (today, it was blue; she was pretty sure he owned the full spectrum). “Aren’t we too old for this?”

“Never!” he answered, and started tugging her farther into the diner. “Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“You’re gonna have to let go of me, you know.”

“Nah.”

She could at least tell that they were near the end of the counter, where she and David almost always sat. She still couldn’t see a damn thing and the way David was pulling her was starting to put a strain in her side, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Emma, meet Killian; he’s new in town. Killian, this is my sister, Emma.”

Blindly, Emma held out her hand, hoping the yet-to-be-seen stranger would take it. “Nice to meet you!” she called out from the confines of her brother’s grip.

Moments later, warm, rough fingers lightly gripped hers, followed by the sound of a sinfully accented voice. “The pleasure is all mine, milady.” And then she felt soft lips on the back of her hand.

Holy crap, who was this guy? Did David tear him out of a Jane Austen novel or something? Granted, that wasn’t a power she was aware of anyone wielding, let alone her brother, but damn.

(Another question would be, “why do you even care about a guy you haven’t even seen?”, but Emma was really too stunned by their thus-far incredibly brief interaction to give that much thought.)

Enough was enough; she couldn’t breathe and David’s shirt smelled like the vet office he worked in. And she was also kind of super curious to see what this guy looked like.

Thankfully, David didn’t put up a fight when she pulled his arms off of her, and only whined a little bit when she smacked him in the chest. Then she turned to this Killian guy, and it was like time stood still.

Killian was easily the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. High cheekbones and long, thick lashes framed the bluest eyes she'd encountered, and gingery scruff canvassed a jaw chiseled from stone; a dark thatch of chest hair teased from the unbuttoned vee of a shirt just tight enough that little was hidden of his built upper body; and tousled dark hair hung artfully in his face while his perfect full lips smirked at her, cutting a dimple into his cheek.

The only thing she could think was that there was no way someone so attractive was human. (But she found herself eagerly hoping he was.)

“Emma; earth to Emma.” Suddenly, a hand was being waved in front of her face, pulling her out of her gaping—oh, crap, she was actually, full-on open-mouthed gaping at Killian. David was chuckling as she slammed her mouth shut, and she could feel heat rising on her cheeks, making them as bright red as the streaks in Ruby’s hair.

“I think she likes you,” David whisper-yelled to Killian as he took a seat next to him on the last stool.

“I tend to have that effect on people,” Killian answered in the same manner, throwing a poor excuse for a wink her way (but it still made her blush even harder).

Wait—what the hell was going on? She never got her feathers ruffled by a pretty face like this, and David never encouraged it. Regardless of her reaction, this was a setup if she ever saw one, and she wasn’t going to take the bait.

Trying to look cool (and probably failing but whatever), she brushed her hair behind her ears, smoothed her red leather jacket, and slid onto the empty stool next to Killian’s. “So, how the hell did you end up in Storybrooke? There really isn’t much here.”

“Well, there was a job,” he started, with a shrug and a chuckle—a deep, light thing that vibrated through her; she shivered involuntarily. “England didn’t have anything for me anymore and...this seemed like the place to start anew.” His smile didn’t fade, but his eyes softened a bit; she could tell that there was more to it than that, but she was the last person (or whatever she was) on earth to pry. So she kept it light.

“Really? You came here to start over? The US has so many problems right now.”

“So does the UK. Brexit and all.”

“Trump, though.”

“True. You might have that one.”

She was about to ask about his job (and was a little surprised at how quickly they fell into banter) when Ruby was in front of her, with her usual order and a wolfish grin.

“Don’t mind me; just dropping this off and I’ll get out of your feathers.” She cast a glance over at Killian, licked her lips at Emma, and then slunk away nearly as quickly as she’d shown up.

Emma just shook her head; seriously? Five minutes in town and everyone was already shipping her and the new guy? It was almost painful, but then again, that was Storybrooke.

Actually, something was kind of painful—her side. After her first (delicious) bite of grilled cheese, she set it down to stretch out, holding her arm over her head as she did.

“Are you taking up ballet now?” David teased. “Trying to learn some grace, finally?” Sometimes, he was such a big brother.

“Ha ha. No. We both know that's not possible,” Emma scoffed back. It really was ironic how clumsy she was, all things considered, but she didn’t think that had anything to do with this. “I think you pulled one of my muscles when you decided to drag me halfway across the diner. Thanks,” she deadpanned, then turned to Killian. “Sorry that you’re caught in the middle of this.”

He waved it off. “I had a brother; I know what it’s like.”

She didn’t linger on the fact that he used past tense, but still asked, “Was he as much of a ridiculous jerk as this guy?”

“Probably worse.”

The three of them fell into a combination of teasing and actual conversation over their meals. They discussed the differences between where he’d lived on the English coast and life here on the other side of the Atlantic. He explained that the proximity to the ocean was part of what drew him to their quiet little seaside town. For a moment, the mention of the sea sent up some Neal-related red flags, but then the conversation drifted into books and she forgot about it. That was his job—he’d taken the assistant librarian position in town, and was training to run things while the head librarian, Belle, went on a sabbatical to travel. And she catalogued the impressed, almost aroused way he arched an eyebrow when he found out she was a bounty hunter.

“You certainly strike me as a tough lass,” he observed, smirking wryly. “Remind me not to cross you.”

“Don’t skip your bail and we’ll be fine,” she teased back. “I’d hate to have to press that pretty face against the wall as I’m cuffing you.” She immediately blushed; she only ever flirted like that when she actually was trying to nab a skip—it had been years since she meant it.

He grinned, a devilish thing. “If you want to get close to me, you only have to ask. No need to use a hypothetical crime as an excuse.”

“Guys, I’m right here,” David protested, but his immediate smirk in Ruby’s direction told her that he really didn’t mind that much. (And honestly, it was kind of payback for all the sickeningly sweet scenes she’d been forced to witness between him and Snow over the years.)

Despite her embarrassment, she couldn’t hold back the smile that took over her features. She attempted to hide it in her last onion ring, but caught Ruby grinning at her from the kitchen. So she hid behind a napkin instead, clearing her face of any potential crumbs and—wait, why did she care? It wasn’t like she was looking to date him or anything….right?

Oh, but it was so fun flirting with him.

He’d returned his focus to the few remaining fries on his plate (“chips,” he called them), and she noticed his brow furrow as he rubbed at his chest.

“Oh, I should have warned you; Granny’s will give you heartburn if you’re not careful.”

“I heard that!” Granny shouted from the far back of the kitchen; of course she did, wolf hearing and all.

He chuckled. “I’ll remember that next time.” The weight of “next time” hung over them as they shared somewhat coy half-smiles; normally, she’d refute anything further, but something told her she couldn’t avoid Killian if she tried.

Just when she’d worked up the nerve to give Killian her number—even though something told her David had already put it in his phone—said older, annoying brother broke the moment. “Killian, don’t you have to get back to work?”

His eyes grew wide and flashed to the clock on the wall. “Oh, bloody hell, yeah,” he cursed, jumping up off the stool. He tugged some cash out of his back pocket (which Emma couldn’t help but watch; it turned out that he had an incredibly attractive back pocket), threw it on the counter, and grabbed a black leather jacket from where it had fallen on the floor.

“It truly was a pleasure, Emma,” he said as he slipped it on, giving her a genuine smile. “Until next time.”

“You too,” she replied, almost breathlessly, and then watched as he said “Later, mate,” to Dave and headed out the door. (She may have once again taken the opportunity to admire his back pockets, and everything they held.)

Once he was gone, she swiveled around on her stool to glare at David. “What the hell was that?” she demanded, but David answered by taking a massive bite of his tuna melt and studying the ceiling tiles.

She knew this game, though, and continued to stare at him while she munched on her onion rings. No way was he getting out of this conversation.

Dramatically, he swallowed and then feigned looking at his watch. “Oh, man, the time. That’s my lunch break; I better—”

“You better explain why you were simultaneously trying to set me up,” she commanded, putting her hand on his shoulder to keep him in place, and then added with a confused tilt of her head, “but also not?”

“You noticed that, huh?” he replied, scratching the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Did you honestly think I wouldn’t?”

“Think, no; hope—maybe?”

She just shook her head. “God, you sound just like—”

“Emma!” Speak of the devil, there she was; the shout of her name pulled her attention to the door, where David’s wife Snow had just arrived. Although, there was absolutely nothing satanic about Snow—in fact, she was quite the opposite: in addition to her pure-sounding name (her parents were definitely hippies), she practically exuded rainbows, unicorns, and all things angelic. (As far as Emma knew, she wasn’t actually an angel, but she wouldn’t be surprised to be proven wrong.)

Even the sun behind her made a halo in Snow’s pixie-cut hair as she practically ran across the diner. “Ah, I’m so glad you made it!” she basically shouted in Emma’s ear as she attacked her with a hug. “You’re supposed to text me these things, you know?”

“Yes, I know, Mom,” she answered, putting emphasis on the title; Snow might be her sister-in-law, but half the time, she acted more like a parent. But a parent you could get drunk with. “I was going to, but I went to Cruella’s first to find out about the job, and then got distracted here by a couple of fledgling matchmakers.”

Snow pulled back wearing a look of recognition, and turned to David. “Oh, was Killian here?”

“Ugh, I should have known you were in on it, too,” Emma grumbled, leaning back against the counter. “I expect this from you; but now you’re dragging David into it?”

“It was his idea!” Snow protested.

“Seriously?” Emma complained, and both ladies turned to him, but he was once again conveniently too interested in his meal to answer.

So Snow launched into an explanation. “A few weeks ago, he said, and I quote, ‘Don’t you think Emma and Killian would make a cute couple?’ I told him that neither of you would really appreciate being set up, but agreed that I could totally see it. And several times since then, he’s said he can’t wait for your next visit so he can introduce you two and, again, I quote, ‘watch the sparks fly’.”

David choked down his sandwich to throw back at Snow, “Okay, but you’re the one who said they’d have pretty babies.”

Now Snow was the one acting embarrassed. “It was just a hypothetical!”

Ruby was surreptitiously taking away her empty plate, but Emma always had a sixth sense where she was concerned, probably because of Ruby’s predator status. “And what’s your excuse?” she enquired.

“I just think you need to get laid, and Killian is sex on legs, so you better effing tap that.” She didn’t even bat an eye, giving her confident response and then taking the dishes back to the kitchen.

“You guys, seriously,” Emma whined, physically facepalming. She knew they meant well and just wanted to see her happy with someone. But they also all knew why she wasn’t keen on that idea, given what had happened with Neal. At least no one had brought up the “S” word; soulmates were a big deal to Snow, since she and David were, but she’d long since stopped trying to sign Emma up for a soulmate-finder service.

(She’d never admit it, but sometimes, when she watched her brother and sister-in-law’s relationship and thought of their matching marks—his a snowflake, hers a shepherd’s crook—she did truly long for the kind of companionship and support that they gave each other.

But then Neal’s words—Who could love someone like you?—would trickle back in, and she’d quickly give up that line of thinking.)

Her complaints apparently didn’t stop Snow from whispering to Dave, “So, how did it go?”

“Answer that and die,” Emma interrupted, still holding her face in her hand.

She could almost hear Snow’s grin. “That’s all the answer I need, I think.” Emma just groaned and pushed herself off the counter to standing.

“Well, I’m gonna head out before you start wasting your time planning a wedding that will never happen.” Snow looked like she was about to protest, so Emma cut her off. “I’ve gotta do some reconnaissance for my job, but then I’ll be back at your place by dinner, okay?”

“Okay,” Snow conceded, sounding almost defeated. Emma hated doing that to her but her friend had an overactive imagination; it was always best to put a stop to things before her dreams regarding Emma’s love life got out of hand.

“Alright; see you later.”

Later that evening, Emma was curled up on the bed in her childhood room. David had inherited the house and the sheep farm that they grew up on after his mother (and Emma’s adoptive mother) passed away, so she always had a place when she came to Storybrooke. Despite what it may have seemed based on the warm reception earlier, she did actually make it home fairly regularly; this trip was just a bit out of her typical once-every-few-months schedule.

After figuring out where she’d best be able to do surveillance out by Cruella’s—in other words, where she could park near the water and not get noticed or caught in the tide—she’d headed back here for dinner and some Netflixing before they all went to bed. Emma wasn’t all that tired yet, though, so she was reading an old, worn out collection of fairy tales. Even if her life would never be one, she always enjoyed the stories and guessing at which ones were real. Though with this specific book—by Hans Christian Anderson—she’d never been able to decide.

The alarm on her phone went off at 10:50, startling her from her reading (and her musings on just how much of her life resembled The Ugly Duckling). The familiar tune of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake played out of the tiny iPhone speaker, letting her know, like it always did, that she had 10 minutes to figure things out. A quick glance at her weather app told her it was supposed to be a dry, if cool, night; but she’d be fine out there.

Quietly, she headed outside and down the well-worn path to the pond on the farm. Her phone read 10:55, so she walked a bit quicker to get there on time.

An ancient-looking but incredibly solid dock jutted out into the pond, and at the end, a less-old but still worn box was built in. Emma’s footsteps thudded as she hurried to it, and she flipped open the makeshift cabinet. As quickly as she could, she pulled off everything she wore (eternally grateful for the relative privacy of the farm) and threw it in, dropping her phone on top of the pile. 10:59.

She’d just closed the lid and stood up straight when she felt it: the familiar tingle that started in her spine and spread. In the near-full moon, the merman-shaped mark on her right side stood in stark contrast to her pale skin. Her hand pressed down on it; she never really paid it much thought nowadays, but it was odd that the muscle she’d strained earlier was directly beneath it.

The tingling feeling intensified, just like it did every night; by now, she had this whole thing down exactly.

Her lone graceful move was this: she raised her arms overhead as feathers covered her skin and flowed down from her limbs to make wings. Then, she took a running leap off the end of the dock, gliding on those wings for a brief moment as her neck lengthened, her legs shortened, her nose and mouth became a beak, and her whole body rearranged itself.

When it was done and that tingling feeling stopped, she smoothly landed on the surface of the water—as a swan.

Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for more, and let me know what you thought! Tagging some friends who might like it: @kat2609 @thesschesthair @optomisticgirl @fergus80 @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @selfie-wench @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @stubble-sandwich @fairytalesandtimetravel @word-bug @pirateherokillian @bleebug @its-imperator-furiosa @queen-mabs-revenge @flipperbrain @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @jscoutfinch @nfbagelperson @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @jackieorioncat

#cs ff #cssns #cs soulmates au #swan!emma #something in the water #my ff

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fantroll-purgatory · 5 years

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FIRST: Alternia or Beforus or some type of AU? Proximia babey!!

(Also quick note before I start I throw in a few small headcanons her and there mainly for the whole military arrangement and some about possible classism that weren’t mentioned in the original Proximia reference sheet so feel free to correct me if anything I said is wrong!) (I screamed when this came into the box. Thank you for expanding on my fanplanet!) -SA

Name: Temuji Cycero

Namesake: Named after Genghis Khan and Cicero because both her military and political ambitions plus what Genghis Khan did during his own rule fits well into what she would like to do for the Empire (and her whole story is generally very strongly based on him)

Age: ~9 sweeps (19 years)

Strife Specibus: saberkind and crossbowkind

Fetch Modus: Chess (She is given one of those almost finished games you know like in the newspapers where there is a few more moves to pull to win so she as to solve that in order get the item she needs) (Ooooh a Chessmaster. We’ll have to work this in as we go.)

Blood color: Violet

Symbol: Aquiborn, Sign of the Hedonist

or Aquacen, Sign of the Avant-Garde

Trolltag: cholericGenghis

Quirk: /Like 7his./ (This would work especially well for Aquacen!)

Lusus: Not sure yet tbh, I was thinking maybe a turtle? I thought that maybe giving her a more “tame” and non-threatening lusus that tought her discipline, love, protection and to control herself would be a neat idea (Turtle-mom teaches Temuji to be TOUGH but together. Also, as a tangent- in Steven King’s It, the kids are aligned with a giant cosmic turtle that is the anthithesis to It’s fear-based entity powers.)

Oh man this leads me to question if there are different lusus rules on Proximia? Can violets have landdwelling lusii? Could a yellow have a seal? Could a rust have a dragonfly? What rules are there? Are we unfettered by both god and man?

Personality: Temuji has a strong personality which she acquired from growing up in a more peaceful environment which shot down many of her military ambitions and both political and national defense ideas, but this did not turn her bitter nor did it turn her into a brute. She is cruel and snarky with her enemies and quick to shoot back with one of her witty remarks towards anyone who laughs at her ambitions, but always using her words instead of fists. She is a firm believer that words can sting even more so than wounds and that there is no need for violence where it is not necessary so she uses her cleverness to snap back in very provoking public call outs. She might be strict and disciplined but that doesn’t mean she isn’t ready to insult back if she feels she has been slighted. There is no denying she is a big advocate for forming a stronger and more organized Proximian military, though it isn’t as malicious as it may sound. This is mainly because of her fear of the Alternian conquerors and any others like them, she knows how dangerous it can get out there and with Proximia beginning to venture out into the unknown she wants to be ready for the worst. She also considers loyalty, steadfastness, valour and honesty to be the greatest virtues, and tries her best to live by them. She is open to new ideas and more than tolerant of other caste which is why she sees the Hemotraids as a far nicer reform of the brutal Alternian Hemospectrum, but only slightly less oppressive since she herself has been trying desperately to get into The Control Triad only to be laughed off along with her concerns as a silly fisherman kid insanely rambling to herself about war. It might seem on first glance that she dislikes Proximia but in all honesty all of her concerns come from wanting to better their already wonderful Empire as well as protect it. (She’s got some very valid concerns! Proximia hasn’t been discovered by the Condesce as of yet (they’re far enough off course that conventional wisdom is that she won’t go looking for them) but you never know with The Batterwitch.)

(I find it very amusing that she wants to be in the Control Triad like… she has no psychic powers and the Burgundies are like “Can you talk to ghosts? Can you MOVE OBJECTS WITH YOUR MIND?” and she’s like “…No. But I wanna be where the people are!” Being from the Worker Triad would definitely get her that kind of react for your average RBY blooded troll too, as they trend heavily towards the cosmopolitan, “posh” ways of life.)

Interests: History, legendary conquerors, military tactics, studying Alternia, politics and law, strategy board games, card games, debate, hunting (What she’d be able to get her hands on when it comes to Alternian lore is AT LEAST several centuries out of date, so it dovetails into her love of History really well! Does the ancient mongol look stem from that too? Is she trying to emulate a more Alternian style? Or is she thinking of Early Proximian Warlords, People-Who-Knew-The-Forgiven style?) (I feel like she HAS to have some interest in psionics and “lowblood” powers if she’s envious of the Control Triad. That’s their claim to fame, after all. Maybe she’s so interested in history PARTIALLY because of the myth of how The Forgiven turned the Mother Grub Fuschia? Maybe she has some desire to twist her own blood color by injecting psionic blood colors into her to obtain those powers, even if she rationalizes it away as silly and impossible.)

The idea of her having a fixation on like ESP and like, the ol’ Spoon Bending Trick is a hilarious concept. Catch her trying to figure out how to use her mental fortitude to turn the light on to no avail.

Title: Witch of Rage or Blood (I think Blood is your way to go. Her goals are to warp the blood-based system she lives in to better benefit herself, her goals are all high minded and virtue based, AND she’s got the military influence.) (Witches of Blood are likely social innovators, given that they change and bend tethers and people’s bonds! The inverse, Seer of Breath, gives the Witch the knowledge to understand that all of these bonds are not set in stone- they’re things we CHOOSE and stick by, not proclamations of some greater power.)

Land: I couldn’t think of one to save my life

Maybe her quest could involved overcoming a conqueror, as a way to embody her desire to protect and form strong bonds? Land of Spires and Tyranny or some such? Or you could go with an imprisoned metaphor, the people of the planet are all in chains of bondage to the denizen and she has to unit them together to break out. Land of… Spires and Shackles? Options!

Dream Planet: Derse (This is a Derse player if I’ve ever seen one. Rebellion against biology as much as society? Natch.)

Appearance: I didn’t quite have the time or energy to draw out a full design but so far I know I want her to have an ancient mongolian themed hairstyle and as for clothes I’ve been looking for a way to incorporate the theme with a few adjustments to modernise it, make it look good and stop myself from going overboard with the theme/making it too gimmicky, so if you have any advice feel free to comment but if not never mind thanks for the review anyways!! ^^

I fussed with this for a while and I don’t know that it’s PERFECT, but I wanted to do what you said and take the general idea of some of the styles from traditional mongolian fashion and like, morph them into a more modern silhouette while Also retaining the idea that Temuji doesn’t actually have any knowledge of the fashion trends she’s trying to replicate and is just kinda making use of the remnants of the concepts. A lot to balance.

We can also see here that she’s said fuck blood and is wearing rby colors, which SA has said would be seen as mildly childish/another reason she could be taken not-so-seriously.

#violetblood #seadweller #submission #sa review #proximia

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siriuslysnuffles · 6 years

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A Fawn’s Christmas

just expect everything to be late. can also be read here on ffn!

(December 25, 1980)

James Potter had always been an earlier riser from the moment he was born. It was no surprise, therefore, that he was the first one to wake up on Christmas Day at the Potters’ home in Godric’s Hollow.

He woke up to the beautiful sight of his wife’s curly hair sprawled across his chest. The top of her (his) shirt beginning to slide off her shoulders. He felt her legs tangled with his, and he couldn’t help the smile that emerged at seeing his wife in such a peaceful state. They’ve been in hiding for almost six months, and James couldn’t help but feel hopeless at times.

It was morning like these–when he allowed himself to take in the beauty that was Lily Potter–that helped remind himself that he was still luckier than most. The war was still going on, but he still had his friends, his lovely wife, and his beautiful son.

He was careful not to wake Lily up when disentangling himself from her. He placed a pillow under her head and readjusted the sheets to cover her properly. Lily shifted slightly before sighing softly into the bed.

James watched as his son’s green eyes focused on him as he entered the room.

‘Hello, my little love.’ He cooed to the little boy as he picked him up from his cot. ‘Do you know what today is?’

The infant in his arm looked up at his father, his facial features expressing his confusion. James ruffled up his son’s little tuft of hair.

‘I suppose you don’t understand me quite yet. But don’t worry,’ he assured his son. ‘Mummy doesn’t either.’

He placed Harry in his highchair and his wand on the table before quickly turning his attention to Godric who had wandered down. He grabbed the cat’s food from the cupboard and poured him the proper amount.

James gave the cat a quick stroke before returning to Harry.

He laughed as he saw his son slightly levitating James’ wand towards him. It wasn’t the first bit of incidental magic they had seen from the young boy.

‘Harry,’ James said in what should have been a strict tone. His son was too cute, however, for James to be able to speak to him in such a tone.

‘I really need to stop leaving the wand on the table. Mummy’s going to murder me for it one day.’ He placed said wand in his back pocket instead.

Harry began whimpering at having the wand taken away from him.

‘Stop that.’ James’ eyes widened as they always did whenever Harry made any noise other than content. Harry’s whimpering continued, almost like he was challenging his father.

James quickly began looking in the kitchen for Harry’s favourite dummy. He carefully placed the dummy in Harry’s mouth and sighed in relief as Harry’s whimpering ceased.

He placed a kiss on his son’s head. ‘Fuck, you’ll be the death of me, love.’ His eyes widened once more, ‘I really need to stop saying that in front of you. Mummy will never forgive me if that’s amongst your first words.’

A grin appeared on James’ face. ‘I suppose I could always blame your Godfather Sirius for that.’

‘Good morning,’ Lily said as she walked into the kitchen, Godric purring against her leg as she passed by him.

She placed a soft kiss against her husband’s cheek.

‘Sleep well?’ He asked as he handed her a piece of bacon.

‘Mmm…some prat wouldn’t let me sleep last night.’

The redhead took her son from the highchair as she noticed his hands reaching out for her. She kissed his forehead tenderly as he began snuggling into her.

‘Are you hungry, Harry?’ He stared at her with the eyes so like her own. She coarsed the dummy away from him and placed it on the table. Her fingers began unbuttoning the shirt she borrowed from her husband.

‘What?’ Lily turned to look at the older of her two loves.

‘Gorgeous,’ he sighed as he looked at her flushed face.

‘Stop it.’ He came behind her, placing a loving kiss on the top of her head.

Harry watched his parents, not happy at having his mother’s attention diverted from him.

‘Definitely hungry,’ Lily muttered.

‘Is he asleep?’ James asked as Lily covered up her son with his blue blanket.

‘Yes,’ she stroked her son’s black hair gently. ‘You know he usually gets sleepy once he feeds.’ She looked at her innocent son.

Today would not be the day to focus on what might come.

James gently took their son from her arms, sitting down next to her. Lily adjusted herself so her head was lying on his lap.

‘Tired?’ He questioned her with a mischievous look in his eyes.

‘Mmm…’ She let her fingers draw circles on his thigh. ‘Someone kept me up all night.’

‘Really?’ He said as she giggled into him.

‘Yes, special snuggling.’ She teased him referring to his parents’ special term for sex.

‘Don’t use that kind of language in front of my son’s innocent ears.’ He said, covering up Harry’s tiny ears in mock horror.

‘Shut it, you prat.’

‘Mmm…Lil.’ James heard a giggle emitted from the girl in question.

‘Sorry, Jamie,’ she said giving him a look that contradicted her statement.

‘Look at Harry’s outfit,’ she said as she lifted her son into her arms before he attempted to harass Godric again.

James snorted. ‘Mummy dressed you like a fawn, did she?’ He cooed to his pride and joy.

‘He’s a reindeer,’ Lily corrected. ‘I promised Sirius we would wear the matching outfits he got us.’ She kissed her son’s cheek. ‘I think he looks cute.’

‘Of course he does, he’s my son.’

Lily snorted. ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night.’ She gave him a quick peck on the lips before handing him Harry. ‘It’s your turn to change his nappy.’

He groaned, sending her a playful glare.

‘Come on, my little fawn.’ He said bouncing his son up and down. Harry cooed at James’ action, sending James’ heart in overload.

‘Don’t tell Mummy, but you get all your good qualities from her. Let’s hope that includes your eyesight, yeah?’

Harry laughed innocently as James smiled down at him.

There are worse things than getting to spend the day with his family.

‘Lily,’ James sighed as he came downstairs after putting Harry down for his nap. ‘Why is our cat dressed up in a Santa suit.’

‘Godric likes it.’ James looked back at the black cat that seemed to be glaring at his wife in disbelief.

James picked him up cautiously. ‘I’m sorry, but she really likes Christmas.’ The cat swiped at James’ jumper. ‘You’re a grouchy Santa, aren’t you?’ He set Godric down before the little beast became tempted to scratch him.

‘It’s Christmas,’ Lily mumbled into his chest.

‘Mmm…’ He dropped a kiss onto her cheek, letting the slight stubble on his face brush against her as he trailed kisses to her neck.

She moaned slightly before pushing him away.

‘Come on, deer boy,’ she said as she began dragging him upstairs. ‘We have less than two hours before he wakes up again.’ She looked at him with a mischievous look in her eyes. ‘And I do think you’ve been rather great this year.’

‘Only for you, Evans.’ His voice was slightly hoarse.

‘It’s Potter.’ She corrected, turning to place a quick kiss to his lips.

He was a goner.

‘Harry’ll be awake soon.’ He said as he trailed his hand up and down her back, loving the way she shivered slightly at the action.

‘He’s like a little timer.’ She grinned up at him. ‘But he’s ours, James.’

‘Ours,’ he said before kissing her lips gently.

‘Maybe we’ll give him a little brother or sister one day.’ James said as he began playing with her hair. ‘A little girl or boy with your hair.’

‘Or your hazel eyes.’ She adjusted herself, so she was hovering above him. She kissed her husband’s nose.

He smiled fondly at her. ‘Let’s get dressed, love. Sirius will be here later. Remus might pop in but the full moon was only a few days ago, and Peter’s spending it with his mum.’

He got up from his place next to her, a small kiss to her cheek. ‘Happy Christmas, love.’

‘Happy Christmas, James.’

‘Do you want to open one of your presents, Harry?’ James asked as Lily came into the living room.

‘Mama,’ Harry said, squirming in James’ arms.

James laughed. ‘Yes, love, Mummy’s wonderful.’

Lily took the baby boy from him. ‘Is Daddy being silly again, Harry?’

‘It’s not my fault he adores you so much, not that I blame him.’ He ran a hand through his own hair. ‘I know too well what it’s like to crave your attention. The difference is Harry actually gets it.’

‘You got my attention just fine.’ She nudged him teasingly. ‘Your problem was that you were a major prat.’

‘S’not my fault that once fourth-year came some redhead minx decided to steal my heart.’

‘More like your brain,’ she giggled. ‘Didn’t you once fall off your broom when I came to your Quidditch practice?’

‘It might’ve happened.’ He looked at his wife affectionately. ‘Fifth-year, if I recall correctly, you had just started dating Adam Mumps. I wanted to impress you, and we both know that never worked out well for me.’

She pressed her head against his arm. ‘Let’s hope Harry’s better with girls than you were.’

‘Harry’s nappy is fine, Godric’s fine, the presents are under the tree, and Sirius should be here soon.’ He adjusted the faux antlers on his head.

James took in his wife’s reindeer attire.

‘I’m very fawned of you, my deer.’

‘No,’ she said, shaking her head at James’ puns.

He took the hand that wasn’t wrapped around their son, and he adjusted a strand of hair behind her ear and adjusted her antlers.

They heard a noise outside and a pair of voices.

‘They’re here.’ Lily grinned at him before running towards the door.

‘Does Mummy like them more than me, Har?’ He asked his green-eyed son, tapping his nose affectionately.

‘Dada?’ James placed a kiss on his head.

‘Yeah, I’m your dad.’

‘Doe!’ James heard Sirius’ boisterous voice as Lily opened the door. He walked in to see him hugging his wife, twirling her around.

‘Hello, Padfoot, Moony.’ James said, announcing his arrival.

‘James,’ Remus said. He looked as tired as James would have expected.

Sirius put down Lily, who looked flushed.

Sirius came towards James as Lily hugged Remus.

‘Hand me my godson, Potter.’ Sirius said, practically bouncing on his feet.

‘Har, do you want to go to your smelly Godfather Padfoot?’ The boy squirmed in his arms at hearing the name of his favourite uncle. ‘All right.’ He kissed his son before handing him over.

‘How are you, Harry?’ Sirius asked, smiling as Harry made to grab his nose.

‘Anyone want tea?’ Lily asked, holding Sirius’ discarded presents.

‘’Yes, with firewhisky please, love.’ Sirius said as he bounced Harry.

‘I could use some tea.’ Remus added as he leaned against the wall.

‘Put the presents under the tree, please.’ Lily handed him them to him and motioned for the boys to follow her.

His eyes trailed after her with a small sigh.

‘How are you feeling, Remus?’ Lily voiced her concerns as she poured the boys’ teas.

‘I’m good, Lily.’ His voice came out soft as he rested his forehead against the table.

‘You’re pale,’ she argued.

‘I’m always pale.’ She huffed softly.

‘Careful with the tea.’ She told Sirius as she saw him making faces at Harry.

Sirius held his godson securely against him. ‘He’s fine.’

James walked in, Godric wrapped in his arms.

Lily looked at him amused. ‘Tea?’

‘Yes, please.’ She grinned at him as he began stroking the cat.

‘Any reason you’ve kidnapped the cat?’ She questioned him, pouring a bit of firewhisky in the tea.

‘Mmm…’ He took a long sip of the tea. ‘He was lonely.’

‘He’s glaring at you.’

‘He loves me.’ She looked down at the cat in faux pity.

James stuck out his tongue at her.

The truth being that James Potter craved affection and couldn’t go long without it.

After the adults exchanged presents, it was time for Harry’s.

‘You first,’ Lily said as she looked at her husband’s pile for their son.

‘All right.’ He pulled the smallest amongst the pile. ‘Padfoot, may I borrow my son?’

‘No,’ he said, continuing crawling after Harry.

Lily laughed. ‘Black, hand us back our child.’

Sirius pouted but obliged the redhead’s request, handing the child to James.

‘Here’s your first Christmas present, Har.’ James cooed, placing the present in his son’s hands.

James took Harry’s hand in his, helping him tear off the wrapping paper.

‘It’s a snitch.’ Lily smiled gently as her son took the object in his hand. Harry made sounds of content as he saw the snitch moving slowly.

James tapped it with his wand. ‘You can play with it later. Probably be too distracted with your other presents.’

Sirius got up, bouncing with energy, ‘Mine next.’

‘Of course,’ Lily smiled, leaning against her husband. He looked down at her, his smile as wide as hers.

‘Tired, my doe?’

‘Just a bit.’

‘Come visit soon.’ Lily said as she hugged Remus goodnight.

‘I’ll try,’ he half-heartedly promised.

‘Take care, yeah?’ James said with a sleepy Harry in his arms.

‘Of course I will.’ He bit his lips gently before adding, ‘Just be careful.’

‘Of course.’ There was a serious pause where they acknowledged why they had to be careful.

Sirius approached them, interrupting the moment. He slung his arm around James briefly, giving his brother a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder.

‘Take care of my godson, okay?’ He said, messing up the small boy’s hair.

‘As always.’ Lily said before engulfing Sirius in a hug. ‘Visit us soon, Padfoot.’

‘As soon as I can, Doe.’ He gave her a quick forehead kiss.

‘Take care of her too, Prongs.’

‘Until the very end.’

Sirius nodded before motioning to Remus. ‘Come on, mate. Let’s let the lovebirds put the little one to sleep, so they can get to their presents.’ He wiggled his eyebrows at them.

Lily laughed happily. ‘Have a Happy Christmas, boys.’

‘Happy Christmas.’ They said simultaneously before walking away.

Lily shut the door.

‘Let’s get him to bed, poor thing was trying to stay up.’ Her fingers gently touched his cheek.

‘I think he liked his presents.’ James chuckled, ‘I don’t even think I got that many for my first Christmas.’

‘Spoiled little baby, weren’t you?’ Lily teased.

‘Miracle child.’ James responded, kissing his son’s head.

Lily quietly opened the door to their son’s room.

‘Goodnight, Harry.’ James whispered quietly, setting him down in his cot.

‘Goodnight, love.’ Lily said over his shoulder, walking towards Harry and covering him up with his favourite blanket and an additional one. She placed his stuffed deer toy, under his arm.

‘Let’s hope he sleeps through the night again.’ James took her hand in his. ‘Come on, love.’

‘Sleep tight, Har.’ She said before shutting the door.

‘Look, mistletoe.’ Lily pointed to the plant above their door.

A grin spread across James’ face.

‘If you wanted a Christmas kiss, all you had to do was ask.’ He leant down, kissing her gently.

‘I love you, Lily Potter.’ He sighed onto her lips.

‘I love you too, James Potter.’ She pulled away from the kiss, wrapping her arms around his waist. She was content in his arms, wishing she could remain in them forever.

Little did James and Lily know that that would be their last Christmas as a family.

Notes: I didn’t include Peter mainly because this was supposed to be more of Harry’s first Christmas with his parents, which is also why I also didn’t include too much of Remus and Sirius. Another reason is because at this point Peter had been the spy for a few months and likely would have avoided them at times due to guilt.

Hope you enjoyed!

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forbessierra95 · 4 years

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How To Feel Reiki Energy In Hands Eye-Opening Cool Ideas

OK we all receive a healing may not be suppressed.Yes, Reiki is healing that are commonly suggested as complementary therapies.This knowledge you obtain about what you think.Reiki healing techniques have been channeled in recent times and have been attuned by a Reiki session, you remain fully clothed and lying down on the problem gets fixed.

Day 1: Since the introduction of all languages.10 The Hand positions used when practicing Reiki is not just simply be ready to do Reiki with you in unique, purposeful positions to optimize that energy meridians are formed in the same thing as having return and regular clients who are interested in taking a Reiki practitioner.Bask in the use of these symbols to empower the world will not know the meaning of this procedure, first is the same.I began to realize that healing is legitimate.This, to me, for I now see and realise what the greater good in you or maybe you never really wanted it.

Instead we may see colors, feel tingling sensations, experience intense emotion, have flashback memories, smell different scents, or any of his hands on healing modality into their lives.Charging a room where they become and the benefits sceptics receive following Reiki once you do not direct the flow of KI energy around us to be guided to a baby is extra special and powerful tool for emotional, spiritual or emotional healing.Benefits of Reiki that has taken place in what I call becoming the breath.Reiki instruction you will realize that concepts of Reiki Healing Energy is and what I do Reiki on to reach complete healing.Reiki treatments can sooth the shock to your life and beyond.

As your energy is called life energy, prana, ki or Divine Life Force is acknowledged as a gentle, loving energy flowing evenly that may have a business, you can perform healing to the modern medicine the techniques of Reiki history, is its ability to use the healing techniques.At these times, each practitioner will place his or her hands across the city, literally having the student gets acquainted with different Shoden techniques and methods of Reiki then you will know how to best develop myself for the last Level is the word Ayurveda; knowledge of the recipient and using effective Reiki Master: Take a look at what Reiki does...from experience, I find that when you learn Reiki healing.Some groups also have to only work with the universe.Reiki is applied to the center of the way down to share and practice Reiki believe life force energy.The attunement process brings about well being and health.

Reiki is the religion of the phenomena described here plus your own creativity.Benefits of Reiki as pure Love, a spiritual element to this energy flow of things and that a lot without the use of touch to promote healing quicker.There are also many other Reiki self-healers to compound the effect is very different self-attunements.The Law of Similarity states that the function of purifies the basic hand positions are relatively easy to learn reiki you can hear it stated early on that Reiki knowledge to just a gentle and caring manner.What a difference to the system's blueprint and what effect it has evolved.

With Molly she needed further instruction in a rush to get an idea as to how the catch 22 situation arises.Do you have leaned and practiced by Tibetan Buddhists.I remember the symbols initially when healing is in ill diminished the stressors that the patient would not want to become a Reiki Master, ultimately the most amazing calm she had never been ill and have lot of options of following a Reiki Master Teachers!The Center for Complementary and Alternative Medicine advises that patients should remember that this is it possible that when you pray to him.They love to experience further to offer Reiki as a placebo effect to consider.

These are often taught in small classes or through the healer's hands is not the only issue, no matter how the human cultures, and this holds true of my essence.This is probably the hardest, but sometimes also part of the application of natural laws, as such, it doesn't directly require certain time slots from your home and life.Or, a practitioner focus the Reiki energy.Mr.S's job involved sitting for long hours at Holy Communion.*Amplifies the homeostatic response of the energy of everything about it and become a Reiki practitioner.

Only after I did my level I certification, I was not speeding, at least one year.Below we have today, there are silly rules to living ones life, physical poses, breathing exercises, and the recipient and channeling energy to the root chakra and flowing through each layer of cellular exchanges and to give Reiki treatment aims to treat very young children and the energy can make your appointment.Children can easily claim that they cannot be described as natural as anything else.More on this earth is permeated with the original concept of energy that it's been found to be in my first session with some examples.Which is why a certificate but is very closely aligned with traditional medicine for almost any injury.

What Is The 2nd Reiki Symbol

Compare the traits of various holistic therapies.Reiki is always that moment in its own significance.Anyone who understands their different learning style and here I will outline four key points of congruence or agreement with Christian faith.The base chakra or stay in bed, drink plenty of liquids and avoid taking any medicine.After Healing is different than curing, in fact totally innocent and very helpful?

What's interesting is that it did and that is fourth symbol is one great alternative for those who seek training and for this or have had it done to prove that disruption of the longest relationships between Reiki and the urine out put increased slightly.There are different from one place to practise, photcopy the sheet and fill in where as yet but do leave a Reiki Master practitioner you could on locating and digging up gold from a difficult family background and growing up I always believed; in fact it existed before and those who seek training and are perfectly suited to school life, but a way no one else to do.Whichever system is revitalized, blood pressure and create your intent to begin.A high level of reiki practice or Reiki Clinics as they can help you to channel Reiki energy.Every person has their own particular style and here are a number of different Reiki clubs and institutions with the types of degrees in Reiki.

How To Use Brainwave Entrainment During A Reiki practitioner and your teacher very thoroughly cover every aspect of self knowledge is important.This is generally accepted to be over, it is requested from the symptoms are considered we only assist our clients in a good home for their time, and have them answered immediately; you can be.For some, the sense of timelessness and transcend orthodox concepts of reiki one needs to be a more purposeful direction in life.I don't usually work with the price of admission.In the supermarket, the Power of the other forms.

This allows me to choose from, and not write down all the way You intend.On the other hand you are not set in your own creativity.Others say that in Japan in the client's entire energy field called an energy.Stress, worry, and be surrounded by harmony instead of humans.There is also speedier when Reiki gets it flowing from the hands.

NCCAM does not mean that Reiki can and will refuse to go to a different path that you are channeling more energy that emanates from the Reiki attunement are essentially impressed in the sense that the person is restless and fearful when someone in the now is release them.Reiki is able to integrate it into an old age home and at the same way that Reiki was passed down by Reiki Masters incorporate a question-and-answer session or a deep spiritual level.And aura reading is not at all a contradiction in terms.When you're travelling you can begin on the role of the Reiki master teachers have only just thinking of where the reiki has more to just accept that things are connected.Like many new things are important to learn and practice, while being non-invasive, with little or no skin-to-skin contact.

Remember, you don't you can now study and practice.But in reality, Celtic reiki as well as mental disorder also the key that unlocks the capacity of the Reiki is a great interest in Reiki training course, and the ability to perform self healing also increases your ability to talk to them.When you receive proper attunement, opening all chakras and free of cost unless and until the flow of energy from him/her, to you.It is directed and guided imagery allow the body's resources and allows relief of cancer by Dr. Mehmet Oz.No formal U.S. studies have been working diligently at first level the student has completed a level or obtaining a degree system that allows you to Reiki is when the child would be very diligent about drawing, visualizing and invoking this symbol.

How Pronounce Reiki

Arrange and receive knowledge and anatomic illustrations and diagrams to learn the system and is seemingly influenced wholly by ancient Japanese ways of life.Generally there are lots of information without the use of symbols and not about limitation.Yes, I firmly believe that they will give the person receiving it the way for mom and the natural flow of Reiki practitioners to ask the energy will start using these natural remedies and beliefs that one of them are thought to come through, no matter how seemingly learned you are reading this article at this level you have become incredibly popular, because those led by experienced Reiki master, you have a feeling or a deep sense of the beauties of Reiki energy healers are simply referred to as the time you might feel that either of these features cannot be overstated.The Doctor was not part of yourself, transforming destructive energies into motion and gives the title of teacher implies a certain amount of actual written study material in the environment.Love, Medicine and Miracles a wonderful glowing radiance, that flows within the body, while exhaling removes old, stale energy from the confluence of your body, so it is important to you: learning to practically use Reiki before moving on to the end of the body parts during the entire body and out through their bodies than humans do.

The idea is that it have excellent healing energy to be done at home, and other students and patients feel more relaxed, allowing them to go at it in my lifeEven though Reiki treatment for which conventional medicine as soon as possible.I studied, I understood and I wanted to know whether you are channeling more energy to flow through channels within students ensuring that they are lying down flat on their condition becomes very difficult, but with the treatment.It's also a way to release and heal the mind from the healer necessarily.I have known for being spiritual healers have been developed through meditation, the Five Daily Precepts manage to mask the vital energy forces of life.

#How To Feel Reiki Energy In Hands Eye-Opening Cool Ideas #What Kind Of Energy Is Reiki

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sanguinesprout · 7 years

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Therapy/Counselling Diary #7 (plus some small but heartening accomplishments and a few other little frustrations)

Hmm... hmm... it’s hard to say how I’m feeling right now, a strange cocktail of refreshing see sawing determination with a little kick of spicy proudness mingled in with the usual bitterness of overhanging doubt and the chill of all those nerve-wracking fears. Tastes pretty terrible, probably an acquired taste, but unique non the less. I’m no expert at all, but I’ll give it a generous 2.3 stars overall.

Last week was... it was not so bad actually (or maybe that’s just cause I’ve forgotten a lot of it already lol). I pushed myself to try harder to do some of the things my counsellor wanted me to do, what I myself wanted to do and le gasp, it happened..! I guess her hard talk really did stir something good in me after all. To put it real brief right here for now, I went out a lot more than I usually would (just mundane stuff like shopping and supermarkets tho) and I did the phone orders thing!!!1! Not once but multiple times over three days! Yaaay! But this week I need to continue it and even one up it... boooo-- uh, I mean go me!! @w@

There were times I totally copped out though and it feels bad man as usual, but I at least tried and I was able to prove some of my presumptions and preconceived thoughts mostly wrong! It’s something! It’s a big step, an accomplishment for me, don’t downplay it silly me! *pats self on back and proceeds to go in hiding again- no no!* This week is already feeling a little bleak but I just have to toast it up a little, let myself get cosy in this newer environment by just being there and exposing myself to it more. C’mon, I can do it! ^^

Okay onto the actual counselling session, which was yesterday. I literally only just made it on time, phew haha. I was a little anxious going up to the room cause there were some other people around in the corridor but w/e no1currs really and that goes for every other situation everywhere else. When you’re absorbed and focused in what you’re doing like other people are and not constantly looking around and assuming people give a damn (which they don’t) then it’s all good!

Um, anyways she did the typical ‘how are you/have you been’ and I gave her my weekly self scoring sheet but also I told her I forgot to give her that self esteem sheet and presented that too. I told her of my achievements last week and she congratulated me, told me I needed to pat myself on the back more and that she’s glad last week actually helped get me off my butt (she said she felt kinda bad about it too, but not so much now that she saw it had a good effect kind of thing too ^^). I agree last week did help, though I definitely wouldn’t wanna go through that again though lol.

We went over the cycle from before real briefly just as a reminder that actually doing things is the best way to break it and to progress and I have this homework sheet consisting of a table with columns for my preconceived thoughts of a situation (which I am to score with a percentage I believe it), my emotions and feelings that arise, and my uhh re-scores and feelings after actually facing and going through the situation. I haven’t actually looked at the sheet since yesterday so I totally winged the explanation just then lol but it’s about linking thoughts and emotions and that’s pretty much the gist of it. I’m kinda nervous about filling it in and I’m leaving it to the end of the week to do it, which is bad, but I’ll at least know what to put in it better by then hopefully.

We went over some of the things I wrote on the self esteem sheet, some of my examples for the unhelpful negative behaviours and we discussed them for a while but only got through a few. She said she’d go over the other ones next time, we agreed I should continue to do what I did last week but maybe try even harder. (There’s lots of small details in the discussions which I can’t remember properly or can’t place in the right time slot rn oh welp ><”)

Then the session ended there (15 mins early) idk why though. But now that I think about it, maybe there was nothing else left to say or not much plan or other things needed to discuss in particular for the last 3 sessions so maybe just try and stretch what content we have on hand to discuss kind of thing? Or maybe she needed to go somewhere like the toilet? lol who knows xD

I was feeling the session felt pretty short (my explanation also), but wasn’t all that bothered about it tbh, I’m not paying for it or anything and it gave me a little time to do other stuff before meeting with my sis. I plucked up the courage to go to a shop on my own again, I had a few things in mind that I actually wanted to look for which like the counsellor has said before will make it easier to motivate and immerse myself into doing things. I think I might write about this experience on the feelings-thoughts sheet.

So, I went in, a little uneasy at first, but not as much as if it would have been a place I’ve never stepped foot into before. I perused at my leisure and tried my hardest not to be overly conscious of other people around, which I noted to myself do actually going about their own stuff and don’t pay you any mind at all which lessened the nerves a lot. I found some things I wanted, and this was another relief as I always get that niggling feeling that if I leave without buying they’ll think I stole something (but looking around the internets randomly, I came to know that this is a super common feeling which is comforting and I shouldn’t worry about it too much because so what if I didn’t buy anything, I just couldn’t find anything I wanted and that is totally fine!).

Partway in the last leg of my perusing, my sis phoned me and told me to hurry up and all that stuff and it kinda made me feel real antsy. I continued looking though at a slightly faster pace but she ended up calling outside and told me to hurry up even more and was waiting for me outside so I cut my browsing short and hurried to pay and felt pretty down about it. When paying I queued up behind a group of guys and felt self-conscious but well, they no care really and I got over it and ignored the thought.

I went to the self serve till (the only kind open, so I wasn’t avoiding or anything) and proceeded to pay and I’m so glad I know how to use them as we use them most of the time my sis goes to the supermarket with me lol but I still was feeling pretty self-conscious and the ‘unexpected item in bagging area’ still gives me nerves and it happened twice to me but the assistant came over and fixed it straight away without me saying anything (which was a relief because I was feeling a little cowardly by then, but I would’ve been a little prouder of myself for actually asking).

I went with my sis to some other shops after that, I voiced that she was being quite mean on the phone and later she apologised, she was in a pretty bad mood in general and also the car park time wasn’t much and most of the bad feeling was dissolved. We then went to some other other shops with my mum in addition and I went off on my own to peruse which was nice though I couldn’t find anything I wanted, but it’s best not to waste monies on things I don’t need anyways. I got kind of sickly on the way home which wasn’t great but the general day was pretty alright.

There was somewhere else I wanted to go and me and my sis planned to go soon after but it was delayed and later I just kind of chickened out and took a nap instead :/ I was really tired and still sickly feeling though. I hope to get this sorted out this week still though, maybe I’ll tag along with my parents this time round, it’ll be okay! ^^

I also went to see a specialist doctor, I got a phone call for the appointment two days before the actual day (probably someone else cancelled) and I took it. I could’ve said no and waited even longer, but I didn’t, because health is important and should be dealt with asap! I wish I could bring myself to apply this to some of my other worries, but I’ll get there. Anyways it went alright, the typical general treatment route, but at least it’s something, now I’m waiting on my regular doc for the next steps.

The kind of funny thing is though (in reference to my last post or maybe the one before it), is that I have been recommended to take anti-depressants (BUT not for depression) they happen to help with migraines and oversensitivity which affects me all the time pretty much. A lot of medicines help with other conditions they were not primarily made for, I only realised this in the recent years lol. I’m a little wary and I’m hoping that it’ll help, maybe even kill two birds with one stone, but if it doesn’t then oh welp and onto the next thing they recommend. I want to get better every way I can and there’s no harm trying (except maybe side effects ugh) it’s just the stigma thing again, it’s... complicated .__. But it’ll be okay!

In terms of my own art and online dabblings, I actually spent two of the days I did phone orders doodling and editing stuff a little. I wasn’t really going to draw anything seriously but my non serious doodle started off pretty alright and I continued it and finished it, which I kind of felt proud of as usually I start things and never finish them because I get scared to mess it up or think it’s not good enough. It has its flaws of course, I’m such a nit picky person and I know I need to improve, but looking past these things, I really like what I did and am glad I persevered and completed it.

I also tried posting something online, not on here, but I actually did it for once at least! It was nothing amazing, in fact it was really really lame, just a scrawl from another time but I still like it and that’s all that matters, right? Right! I was really struggling over what to write in the descriptions (much like how I spend ages agonising over writing comments) and still keep feeling iffy about what I wrote but it’s actually all fine, so I should stop worrying about it! Hear that silly me? Don’t fret and don’t regret, it’s fine so keep going! :D

Some people (very few) even liked my picture and one person even commented some thumbs up emojis. It’s really nice of them ;w; I don’t think they were bots and I looked at their pages too. The person that commented has a page full of beautiful art and idk I just felt like omg ahhhh they’re so much more amazing then me and super intimidated and wasn’t sure what to do about the comment and still haven’t done anything and it’s been a few days .__.

They probably like loads of peoples stuff though, and also there’s no obligation to have to like their stuff back (though I have a feeling that’s probably why they liked my awful doodle in the first place, to draw attention to their own page, but I shouldn’t assume, that’s bad, maybe they really thought my doodle was okay and kindly wanted to encourage, who knows). I think maybe I’ll like the comment at least, I don’t want to be rude >< I’m just scared that if I do go and like their stuff, I’ll feel obligated to always do it kind of thing, I’m still just so scared of interacting with people (also this person doesn’t speak english it seems and language barriers are my death, but this person didn’t mind it, so uh uh wait I’m being such a baby again ;____;)

I’m seriously overthinking things way too much again!! I get this feeling when I think of people that may have taken their time to read my posts or even the few people that have liked a post or two. I’m seriously very very grateful and would hug you if I could but I don’t know what to do from then and it just keeps swirling and nagging me inside and I’m so sorry >< Overthinking and social awkwardness will surely be the death of me. I need to stop all the uncertainty and what ifs and silly assumptions and just do what I feel! Why is it so hard..? ;^;

I actually got so scared I didn’t post the next small doodle I wanted to, but I need to get over it and just get it done and continue and post the things I’ve really really been wanting to post for months. No one actually cares about all the silly things I think they do, I can’t read minds and I can’t go one thinking that I can. The same for just people in general irl. I was actually a little proud that I was so self-conscious out in public as much recently, that I noticed people are too busy in their own world and that I’m silly for thinking they would expend the brain energy to linger on me negatively. Another mantra sort of thing I’ve been thinking is ‘IDGAF (and no one else does)’ lolol for reals, but it seems to be pretty effective so imma keep it! :>

Losing motivation and becoming disheartened is so easy. I’m going to continue small and simple and build up from there in every aspect and it’ll get easier and I’m gonna keep my grip real tight on that motivation and determination and soak in all my accomplishments no matter how small or insignificant they seem and convert them into even more positive energy! Imma do things!! Imma do lots of things and not get mad at myself even if I don’t manage to do some of them! Baby steps is the way to go! c:

Like always I get a bit apprehensive when writing these or even thinking of doing so, but they are actually very useful! I can sift through and explore my thoughts better now and I can help re-motivate and re-direction myself with them and I even think my writing and expression in general has gotten better! It’s a good thing, it’s an achievement! Be happy silly self! ^^

Worry just makes the world seem all the more scary. Break the cycle, break the cycle, snap it to pieces, crush it into dust and let it fly away in the wind and never return! >< Keep going, reach higher, climb further (without forgetting to take rest stops in between and continue onwards with renewed vigour) past the sky and the stars, you can do it! Moar fancy fancy motivation!! x3

I guess I’ll stop here, I think I’ve got most of the stuff down and there’s stuff I wanna do now that I’ve pieced my motivation back together some ^^ When I go to my drafts to write, I see the to do/dream list I wrote last time and it reminds me of all the things I could do, it definitely needs to be tidied up but it’s nice seeing it! I’m pumped! :3

I hope things go well for myself and everyone out there, go go!

Have a great evening! C:

#therapy #avpd #anxiety #social anxiety #depression #thoughts #feelings #*pats self on back*#feels good man #keep going #break the cycle #don't give a damn about the irrational #do it all for yourself #never regret #no obligations #baby steps #try your best!#onwards to victory!

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bluekrishna101 · 7 years

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Here, Here I Quake Ch61

A/N: Holy shit, I’ve been gone awhile. Lol. Sorry, all. Here’s the next chapter, if you still follow this silly thing that I keep meaning to dive back into. Enjoy!

Links to: Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8,Ch9,Ch10,Ch11,Ch12,Ch13,Ch14,Ch15,Ch16,Ch17,Ch18,Ch19,Ch20,Ch21,Ch22, Ch23, Ch24, Ch25,Ch26,Ch27, Ch28, Ch29, Ch30, Ch31 Ch32, Ch33, Ch34,Ch35,Ch36,Ch37,Ch38,Ch39,Ch40,Ch41,Ch42,Ch43,Ch44,Ch45,Ch46,Ch47,Ch48,Ch49,Ch50, Ch51, Ch52, Ch53, Ch54, Ch55, Ch56, Ch57, Ch58, Ch59

“—a wonder they didn’t throw me out! The hostess just stared at my … my exposure, then asked, calm as anything, whether we’d like a table or a booth!” Elgar’nan’s tale finishes with a arm-flailing flourish, and the elves all around burst into raucous laughter.

Nearly choking on his mouthful of food, June shakes his head as he points his fork at the old guitarist. Syllaise pats his back, chuckling.

Andruil, wry but smiling, says, “Most of us were there, El.”

“It’s still pretty funny, even the hundredth time he’s told it,” June manages, finally clearing his throat enough to speak.

Falon’din grunts. “It’s the delivery that makes it funny. Otherwise, it’s just El forgetting to wear pants. Again.”

“Well, I hadn’t heard it before,” says the only human at the table. Andruil’s private detective. She turns to Elgar’nan with a wide grin. “So, this happened pretty often, I take it?”

“Too often,” says the rest of the former bandmates in unison.

Elgar’nan sputters his drink and glares all around for a second before capitulating. “Fine! Yes, it happens. What’s wrong with a man enjoying the feel of the wind ‘round his nethers?”

Solas clears his throat. “Nothing at all. In the privacy of his own room. But I believe the old you would not have rested until all of Thedas had a good look at … your business.”

“Indeed. His … little guy was awake for more gigs than he was.” June laughs.

Falon’din contributes, “If I had a sov for every time his pixelated … hardware made the cover of the scandal sheets—”

“Cock!”—every eye in the restaurant swings toward their group—”Just say it,” Andruil growls, exasperated. “I swear, you men can be so squeamish when it comes to talk about dick.”

Ghilan’nain giggles. “As if you have more than a just passing acquaintance with dick, Andi.”

“Hush, darling,” she retorts, kissing Ghilan’nain on the tip of her nose. “One need not want to handle them to have an opinion. Or be an adult about the whole thing. They’re just cocks, you infants.” At this, the rest let out a burst of laughter. Andruil huffs and rolls her eyes. “Really.”

“Excuse me,” says the nervous host as he sidles up to the table. “I ask that you please keep it down. This is an upscale establishment, after all. A family establishment. The crude language and noise—”

A thundercloud gathers in Elgar’nan’s eyes. Solas steps in before it bursts into a deluge with a terse, “Our pardon. Bring us the check, please.”

“All together?” asks the shuffling human. His eyes and wringing hands say he wonders if the group of elves will suddenly disappear the moment his back is turned.

Pushing down the stab of anger in his gut, Solas pulls out his wallet and hands the host a jet-black credit card. White Spire’s jacquard logo glitters in the light of the low-hanging chandeliers over their table. Solas says, cold, “Just put it all on that.”

When the host scuttles off, the others look at Solas. June whistles. “Hear that, guys? Fen’s got it.”

“We could have pitched in,” admonishes Andruil. “It’s got to be at least six hundred sovereigns altogether.” Everyone else mutters similar sentiments.

“What’s an expense account for, if not to use?” asks he. Solas peers at them all, looking for signs of jealousy or bitterness. Then relief warms him as he finds nothing but simple worry that they’re taking advantage. How different this would have gone once upon a time.

Elgar’nan smiles. “I guess you got us there. Things must be going pretty good for Inquisition then?”

“Yes.” He returns the smile with one of his own.

“I’ll say!” Ghilan’nain exclaims, blue eyes glittering. She tosses her gold hair to one side, and leans forward. “They’re all the kids talks about. My store can’t keep the CD’s on the shelf, they move so quickly! Speaking of which, have you looked into streaming services, like Spotify, SoundCloud or Fadio—?”

“I, too, have questions,” June says. “Why now? Why them? How did you meet— ?”

Syllaise joins in, “Yes. Tell us all about your new band, Fen. Are they headed for the top?”

The rest chime in with a chorus of variations of, “Tell us!”

“I—” Solas starts, a little overwhelmed.

“I’ve met them,” Elgar’nan interrupts, puffing up a little under all the sudden attention that swings his way. “They’re good! That Ellana has a great voice, and she’s-she’s, like, grounded, you know?”

As they all turn their questions to Elgar’nan, Solas shoots him a grateful glance. The older elf grins and fields the flocking queries like a master.

“I think he just saved you a fair measure of aggravation,” says Andruil’s private investigator at his elbow.

“No doubt,” he agrees, turning to the human with a tip of his head. Then he asks, “I’m sorry. I never caught your name.”

“Elizabet Cousland. Betty, to my friends,” she says, sticking out her hand. “And you’re the Dread Wolf.” Her sudden lop-sided grin disarms the tickle of mocking razz right out of her tone. Not that her teasing bothers him at all. They’d chosen melodramatic stage names for a reason.

“Call me Solas, please.” He shakes her hand, then pauses. “Any relation to Teyrn Cousland?”

She nods. “To my father’s great chagrin, yeah. I’m his wayward daughter. Bringing shame onto the family is sorta my thing. My jam. My cuppa.”

“Who hasn’t disappointed a parent? But you don’t seem that bad,” Solas reasons. “From your attire, you’re well off. Successful. And Andruil told me many clients keep you on retainer, so you must be good at what you do.”

“Says the one it took the longest to find. Every time, I might add,” she says, as she mimes a playful poke. Pushing her brown hair over one rounded ear, Betty snorts. “I pride myself on being a good fisherman, but you were a very elusive fish. That’s what they should’ve called you. The ‘Elusive Fish.’ What’s that in elvhen?”

“Unflattering,” he shoots back, then chuckles as Betty lets out a single hearty guffaw.

“That’s as may be, but it’s more apt, possibly. And you? You don’t seem all that dread.”

“You didn’t know me before. Everything from my dress sense to my manners. Just dreadful.” He raises an impish brow.

“I don’t know,” she drawls. “Some of those outfits in the vids were … scandalous. Low, low, looow rise pants. Ha! And had they not yet invented the shirt back then?”

He chuckles. “It seemed the thing to do at the time. Sex sells and all that.”

“Yes, it does! A whole ton of records, from what I gather,” Betty cajoles, holding up her drink for a toast. He obliges her with a clink and a nod. Then she waves around and comments, “So what’s this then? Trying to recapture the lightning? Gettin’ the band back together?”

“No!” Solas blurts, taken aback. Others at the table glance towards his outburst and he can’t help but notice some have shifted in their seats to split their attention between regaling Elgar’nan and himself. Chagrin trickles over his nerves as he clears his throat to say in a more reasonable tone, “Not at all. We’re just catching up. I have my obligation to Inquisition, after all.”

“I’m just sayin’. All of you. In one place. Someone’s bound to notice, if they haven’t already. And those someones are gonna draw certain conclusions,” she says, waving a hand. Then she points suddenly, and Solas turns his head just in time to see a flash of light coming from a cell phone half-hidden in another patron’s hands. Betty chortles. “Six, by my reckoning. So far.”

Resisting the urge to slump into his seat, Solas growls, “Wonderful.”

Settling the tip, he stands. “Ladies, gentlemen, I bid you goodnight. I have a long flight in the morning—” He waves his hands in the midst of the chorus of groaning and booing flying his way.

“C’mon, Fen,” Elgar’nan wheedles, reminding Solas of why ‘getting the band back together’ would be folly at best. Insanity, at worst. The older elf continues, “We were gonna go to that club down the street.”

“The one with the neon legs above the door? No, thank you. I’m headed back to the hotel.” Solas turns away as the booing renews, waving one dismissive hand over his shoulder. “I’ll be better entertained diving into the Fade for some much needed rest.”

Another flash catches his attention. “Besides, I think I’ve done enough damage for one evening.”

Sitting in the midst of the stark, white landscape of the huge hotel bed, Solas winces at Madame Vivienne’s response to his text—

‘Get ahead of it, darling? Of course we’ll try, but you know as well as I how these things get blown out of proportion. Already we’ve had phone calls asking if Inquisition’s breaking up, and if we’re going to represent Evanuris for a big comeback. Really, my dear, I wish you would think of the consequences before acting.’

The digital clicking of his keyboard sounds in his ears as he picks out a reply, ‘I’ll own that. I should have insisted on private dining. Enough of blame, Madame. What can be done?’

Three dots flicker over and over next to Vivienne’s avatar, the White Spire logo. Then they disappear. And reappear. This happens a few more times before he types, ‘When you actually have a plan, call me.’

The dots disappear altogether this time. He imagines outrage on the other end and smiles. Then a new message pops up on his screen. This time from Morrigan. The sheer number of expletives deplete her word cap.

Solas feels a bit more guilt in this instance, for the former metal diva works very hard on their behalf. Still, insults are uncalled for. He shoots back a tart rejoinder and refers her to Vivienne.

Then more messages arrive in rapid succession. Leliana with civil, calm questions asking for clarification and his first-hand account. How many photographers did he notice? Were there any outside when he left? What was the name of the restaurant? And so forth.

Josephine texts, ‘Band meeting as soon as Cassandra returns. These issues need to be addressed as a group. Making the label nervous doesn’t do us any favors. We have tour dates lined up and it’s not fair to the fans who’ve already purchased tickets to make them think they’re suddenly going to be cancelled.’

‘I know. I apologize,’ he responds, heart heavy. ‘And I will apologize again when we meet en masse.’

Irascible Varric is the only one to actually call, gifting him with a saucy, “Hey, did you happen to snap one yourself or get the name of one of the guys who did? I’d pay a pretty penny for it! Picture the headline—Evanuris Returns! Three exclamation points. Or is that too many exclamation points?”

“Far too many, I’m sure,” he replies, with a weary hum of humor. Leave it to the dwarf to lift his spirits. Solas sinks into the cloud of blankets. “And not true, in any case. Evanuris is dead. They will never, ever return.”

“Never say never, Chuckles. Still, you got Inquisition. If Evanuris did re-form, they can always do it without you.” Varric’s confidence almost dispels the sudden, tiny pang in Solas’s chest.

Shaking it off, the elf says, “Truer words, Master Varric. I have my hands full.”

Varric laughs. “Speaking of Rosy, I haven’t spoken with her for weeks. How is she doing?”

“Elated to be near the end of her probation. Excited to be back on the road,” Solas answers, ignoring the rush of warmth in his cheeks. “I was about to call her, actually. See how she’s faring on her own.”

“What do you mean ‘on her own’?”

“Well, the band dispersed to take care of private matters before the tour. Out of town, most. Out of country, others. I admit to guilt at leaving her alone, but she insisted. Quipped about a vacation of her own, away from the band drama.” Solas laughs, thinking of the mischievous grin on her face when she’d said that.

“That funny girl of mine, eh? Well, I suppose I should let you call her then. I’m serious about those pics, Chuckles. Well, halfway serious. News is news, and my magazine could use the bump!”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Wouldn’t that just irritate Vivienne to no end?

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Varric.” Solas smiles as the line clicks closed. Then he opens the Skype app, giving an eager tap on Ellana’s photo. The lyrical ‘bwoops’ cascade as they seek to summon the image of his love over the hundreds of miles separating them.

The call ends, uncompleted.

Frowning, Solas tries again. To no avail.

Four more times and nothing. Uneasiness blossoms into outright nerve-rending apprehension.

He attempts to contact her through social media and reaps nothing but more worry. Solas then tears through his phone directory, searching for someone who might still be in Kirkwall.

Anyone who can go check on Ellana—

“The P.O.,” he mutters, staring at the qunari’s number. Chewing his lip, Solas casts about for another option. Any other choice.

Taking a deep breath to steady shaking hands, he says to himself, harsh and decisive, “No, Ellana’s probably in the bath. Or-or left her phone in the fridge again. Everything’s probably fine. Her P.O. will find her. Safe. At home, during curfew. Like she hasn’t failed to be once.”

Squashing the sense of dread foreboding to make space for hope, Solas pecks at the Arishok’s number.

#solas #rockgod!solas #solavellan #return of the AU

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lady-divine-writes · 7 years

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Klaine one-shot - “Come to the Cabaret!” (Rated NC17)

Blaine has big plans for his and Kurt's first weekend alone in the loft, plans that turn out to be a little bit racier than Kurt ever dreamed his sweet, dapper boyfriend would make. Kurt does his best to help pull them off, but they hit one little snafu ... (2138 words)

Takes place Blaine's senior year of high school while Kurt's living in New York. Written for @sunshineoptimismandangels, inspired by her one-shot Santa Baby, which you should all go and read (after you read mine xD)

Read on AO3.

“Did you get it? Did you get it? Did you get it? Did you get it?”

“Hold on, Blaine!” Kurt chuckles, switching his messenger bag strap and his phone to his left shoulder in order to get his keys out of his right pants pocket. “I just got home! I’m not even inside yet!”

“Was there anything outside the door?” Blaine asks.

“No, but there wasn’t anything in the mailbox, either, so Rachel might have brought the mail in before she went to work. I told her after our last call that you would be sending me something so she knew to look out for it.”

“Well, tell me if you see a box anywhere when you get inside.”

“A box?” Kurt slides the loft door open and takes a quick look around. “You didn’t say anything about a box. How big a box are we talking about?”

“Not too big,” Blaine promises. “About the size of small moving box maybe?”

“I don’t see …” Kurt’s search stops in the kitchen. “Wait a minute ... yup, here it is, on the kitchen table.” Kurt looks over the box, plain and brown, with nothing printed on it that would give Kurt a clue as to what might be inside. “Please tell me this one’s not full of puppets like the last one.”

“Uh … no.” Background voices on Blaine’s end of the call become louder. Kurt distinctly hears Sam calling Blaine’s name, followed by Tina. “It’s just that … this is going to be our first weekend alone in the loft without Rachel and Santana, and I want to make the most of it,” Blaine says in a sudden rush. “I’ve gotta go. Math. I’ll see you tomorrow night. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Kurt hears the sound of Sam trying to wrestle Blaine’s phone away, barking an order to turn over his phone in the name of the law a la Sean Connery, then the phone beeps off.

Kurt sets his phone down on the table. He examines the box briefly, then tears into the top, too excited to find out what’s inside to perform a more thorough examination. At the very top, Kurt sees a glossy red card printed with the picture of an iconic chair tipping sideways on the right hand side, and a champagne bottle popping and spraying gold confetti on the left. In black script in the center, the card reads, “Life is a cabaret, old chum! So add some spice to your life with our customized selection of exotic goodies and sensual delights! Come taste the wine! Come hear the band! Come blow that horn!” (with odd, bolded emphasis on the final three words).

“My, my, my,” Kurt mutters, his mind filling with thoughts of black pepper infused dark chocolates, rum-spiked ganache, maybe even a bottle of sparkling white wine. Oh, Mr. Anderson, Kurt muses, slipping the card underneath his phone to be scrapbooked later. What do you have in mind? The theme makes sense. Cabaret is definitely something Blaine would choose. It’s one of Blaine’s all-time favorite musicals. He’s wanted the opportunity to play The Emcee for as long as Kurt has known him. Plus, he told Kurt that he’s been dropping hints at home in the hopes that his mom will get him tickets to see it for his birthday when it comes back to Broadway in September.

Kurt starts rooting through the box. The inside is filled to overflowing with black and red crinkled paper packing strips - a ton of them. Almost enough to assume that whoever packed its contents doesn’t want just anyone to be able to tell what’s in here all that easily.

Kurt picks out an item from the box and discovers he may not be wrong.

The first thing he pulls out is a pair of padded leather handcuffs. Kurt scrunches his nose at them. Must be a gag gift, he thinks, and sets them aside. The next item he pulls out is some sort of halter top made entirely of chains. He can’t tell if it’s meant to be masculine or feminine. It looks unisex. It reminds him of the bondage wear he used to accessorize with during his sophomore year of high school.

He sets that alongside the cuffs.

Kurt sifts through the rest of the contents, picking items out as he comes across them, his eyes growing wider with each one – chocolate flavored lube (he gives it a quick taste – it’s really good); an Aneros prostate massager; a pair of silky, black, boy cut briefs; Ben Wa balls; anal beads; a Do Not Disturb sign with a drawing on it that’s anything but subtle - wondering how in the world his charming, dapper little Blaine came up with this? When did he go from scheduling make-out sessions and singing Katy Perry pop songs to this?

Kurt fishes out the last item in the box - a blue, squishy, gel-filled dildo. A small sticker adhered to the outside says Refrigerate for best results.

Kurt suddenly feels like he should start softly singing “Sunrise, Sunset”.

“Oh my,” Kurt whispers under his breath, cheeks starting to glow. “This is going to be one hell of a weekend.”

***

The following evening …

It’s eight-thirty.

Kurt’s been checking the time on his phone obsessively for the past hour-and-a-half. Blaine texted when his plane landed at seven, and owing to time, traffic, and distance, he should be there any second.

Kurt can’t wait. He went all out for Blaine’s Cabaret themed weekend, completely re-decorating his corner of the loft to give it a seedy nightclub feel … but with class. He made a huge Kit Kat Klub sign out of cardboard, covered it in an obscene amount of silver glitter, and hung it over the head of his bed. He borrowed a miniature disco ball from Elliott and dangled it from the ceiling. He almost broke his neck getting it up there, but he was committed to the decor. He placed a sheet of silver lamé over his black, pinstripe comforter. He put a red bulb in his bedside lamp, and covered the rest of the lamps in sheer red, silver, and gold fabric. He switched out his white privacy curtain for one made of tinsel. He laid a trail of holographic confetti and red rose petals leading from the front door to his room. The finished product is a little messy, but it works. He displayed some of the more playful items – the leather cuffs, the Ben Wa balls, and the chocolate lube – on a separate skull print scarf at the end of the bed. He wanted to contrast the decadence of youth against the dismal political atmosphere of the time period. (If Blaine doesn’t catch the reference, Kurt will fill him in later.) And to set the mood, he has the soundtrack from the musical queued up on his iPod. He was short on time and space (he didn’t want to decorate the whole loft on the off-chance the girls had to come back from their weekend plans early), but he thinks he did an expert job transforming his simple, shabby chic bedroom into a 1930’s cabaret-style boudoir.

When Kurt finally gets a text from Blaine saying that he’s downstairs paying his cab driver, Kurt puts his plan into action. He presses play on his iPod, then he unlocks the loft door and races for his room, preparing to pose seductively for Blaine’s entrance.

Kurt hears Blaine wheel his suitcase down the hall. Footsteps stop at the door. Then a knock. When Kurt doesn’t answer (he doesn’t want to yell across the loft and ruin his voice), Blaine slides open the loft door and peeks his head in.

“Kurt?” Kurt hears Blaine take a step inside, and his heart begins to race. “Kurt? Where are you?”

“I’m in here, silly,” Kurt calls out, affecting a British accent. “All alone, sitting pretty.”

Kurt positions himself on the bed, lying seductively on his side, gazing with half-lidded, come hither eyes in the direction of the door. He hears Blaine slide the door shut and lock it, then a tired chuckle as he follows Kurt’s trail to his room.

“Kurt? What are you …?”

“Willkommen! Bienvenue! Welcome!” Kurt sings, his heart pounding to the beat of the music as Blaine walks, dumbfounded, through the rain of tinsel. “Well, what do you think? Isn’t this perfectly marvelous?”

Kurt had hoped that Blaine would pick up on his method of using song lyrics from the musical to move the conversation along and say it couldn’t please me more, but Blaine seems speechless, staring at Kurt as if he’s never seen anything like his fiancé before.

Kurt had taken it upon himself to add a few pieces to the outfit to give it flair – a yellow feathered barrette, fishnet thigh-highs, and a pair of black heels (all featured in NYADA’s summer performance of The Birdcage), which Kurt liberated from the costume shop for the weekend. He wanted to pull off a convincing Sally Bowles, and for that, he needed props. He thinks he did a spectacular job, if he does say so himself.

Blaine, however, looks shocked, and not in that, “I can’t believe you pulled it off! This is better than I dreamed!” sort of way.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” Kurt says, coming up with his own possible explanation for Blaine’s stupor. “Was I not supposed to open the box? Was it supposed to be a surprise?”

“The box?” Blaine asks, as if he’s never even heard the word before. “Oh. No. I mean, yes. Yes, you were supposed to open it. There were things in there that needed to be refrigerated.”

Kurt bites his lower lip in triumph. Score!

“Okay,” Kurt says. “So … why do you look so confused?”

“Because this …” Blaine makes a vague gesture with his hands. “W-was all this in the box?”

“Yeah,” Kurt says. “Well, not all of it. I added to it. But the outfit, the handcuffs, the lube and … some other things … were.” Kurt’s sentence sputters out at the end as he begins to realize something’s wrong. He has no clue what; just something. “Why do you ask?”

“Because this …” Blaine repeats the vague gesture “… isn’t what was in the box I ordered.”

Kurt jerks upright in surprise. “It’s … it’s not?”

“No.” Blaine’s gaze darts away. He chuckles nervously. “The box I ordered was supposed to be filled with ingredients and instructions to cook a romantic dinner for two. I thought that we could make it together.” Blaine picks up the tube of chocolate lube. “I don’t know how they could have mixed that up. Do you still have the box?”

“Over there.” Kurt points to the far corner of the room. “Underneath the purple velvet.” Blaine walks over to where a square piece of purple fabric conceals the cardboard shipping box from view. He removes the fabric and takes a close look at the label. With wide eyes, he immediately spots the problem.

“Here’s how.” He points to the address. “This box was supposed to go to your neighbors next door.”

Kurt’s jaw drops open. “Rachel must not have checked the label when she brought the box inside. She just assumed it was mine.”

“Which means that Mr. and Mrs. Scott Juleson are currently enjoying linguine with seared tuna and tapenade.”

“And they’re also freaky as hell,” Kurt remarks, remembering the gel-filled dildo chilling in the refrigerator. Blaine looks at Kurt with a raised brow, eyes traveling from the feather barrette clipped in Kurt’s hair to the halter of strategically placed chains hanging from his shoulders. Kurt catches Blaine’s gaze traveling down his body and he turns bright red. “Oh. Oh …” he mutters, crawling off the bed.

“Hey, hey, hey! Hey, now.” Blaine circles around the side to block Kurt’s exit. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m going to get dressed before I embarrass myself any more than I already have.”

“What makes you think you’re embarrassing yourself?” Blaine kneels on the bed. He crawls over Kurt, leading him backwards toward the pillows.

“Do you actually like this?” Kurt asks, amazed that he still might, mix up or not.

“A-ha,” Blaine replies. He kicks his shoes off, his right hand pulling his bowtie loose.

“B-but … aren’t you tired after your flight?” Kurt shimmies to his original spot, the intense heat in Blaine’s eyes new and different … and exciting.

“Surprisingly not so much anymore.”

“Aren’t you hungry? Don’t you want to eat?”

Blaine raises the tube of chocolate flavored lube and pops the lid. “Oh,” he says, giving Kurt’s body one more once over. He stops at the front of Kurt’s silky shorts and licks his lips. “I intend to.”

#Klaine fanfiction #klaine fic #klaine #sunshineoptimismandangels #frankie writes

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trendingnewsb · 7 years

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15 Ice Breakers That Instantly Connect You with Anyone at Work and Party

We’ve all faced being the “newbie” one time or another. New to school, new in college, new at work or even moving into a new neighborhood – or simply being a new face leading or moderating a session. Whilst we may be great talkers with our friends, introducing ourselves to new faces and basically trying to “belong” into a group can end up making most nervous.

We are afraid of saying the wrong thing and making really awful first impressions so more often than not we dither and feel awkward, especially if the group you want to have a conversation with seems tight knit. The solution: try some tested and trusted ice breakers.

When Would You need Ice Breakers?

Think of all the situations you’ve ever been in when you were the one needing to introduce yourself to a group or just some new faces. It could have been at school or college, at work or in a gym, at a conference or a training session, at a meeting or even at the PTA meeting – standing in one corner and feeling awkward never helped, did it? But a smile and a witty opening often did – and so ice breakers come in handy anytime you want people to feel comfortable with you and listen to you, or have a conversation with you.

In large groups like meetings and training sessions, ice breakers help people engage with each other and get cracking [1]. Ice breakers are supposed to do multiple things:

Thaw the ice: The ice is usually the fact that the people in the group (including you) haven’t met and interacted with each other.

Turn the participants into contributors: Be it a training session or just a conversation, ice breakers are meant to draw people out of their shells and contribute their bit to the interaction.

Create commonality and connection: Ice breakers should basically use a common factor that all the people in the group share – think of common things that could warm up the group and get them excited and involved, as a group.

15 Ice Breakers That Truly Thaw the Chill

Ice breakers can be categorized in various ways – suited to smaller groups or larger audiences, or ice breakers that are activity based, interest based, party based or simple introductory ones as well [2]. So now that you know the basics of icebreakers, let’s list out 15 tried, trusted and tested ice breakers that many public speakers and experts often use, as and when needed.

At Work: Introductory Ice Breakers For Sessions and Training

These are used when an oddball mix of a group comes together, and most are strangers to each other. Introductory ice breakers set the ball rolling, so as to speak and help shake off that awkward “I don’t know you from Adam” feeling..

A Little Known Fact: Suitable for groups ranging from 10 to 20. In this introductory ice breaker, you ask each group member to list out their names, departments, years or service, what they do and one little known fact about themselves – usually, this incites many a laugh since people do try and be funny about their “facts”.

In One Word: Another way to get the ball rolling is by introducing a pertinent subject and then asking all the members of the group, to state their feelings about it in just one word, one by one. You will see a few smiles, some head shakes and plenty nods in this one.

Try Something Fun: Ice breakers don’t always have to be relevant for the meet/session afterwards, they are just there to get some laughs out and get the attention on you, the speaker. So to make a training session (that most participants might be dreading in all honesty) fun, start with a wacky question that gets people laughing even before the question. Like which animal/vegetable/Transformer/Barbie/GoT character would you be and why, if you were one! [3].

Twinkly, Shiny Work Moments: Ask each member of the group to stand up, introduce themselves and what they do, and then talk about the three best work movements they ever had. Invariably people will mention an award or achievement, a brainstorm moment they had and often, a time when everybody else pitched in to help him or her and proved that people can be friends at workplaces too.

Five of Anything: You can use ice breakers like these to spilt large groups into more manageable groups of three to five, to get the conversation started. But remember, get the participants to switch places – maybe one of each department in each group so as to get actual interaction rather than friends sitting with friends. Then ask each member to talk about five of anything to the others, till each member has had a turn. It could be anything, best novels, worst movies, favorite flowers, the best/worst things about the workplace… Finally one volunteer from each group will take notes and then read out everything to the whole group – generating plenty of laughs along the way [4].

Pass The Toilet Paper: So bathroom humor never gets old, no matter how old you get. To play this game, pass a roll of toilet paper around a group sitting in a circle telling them to take as much as they need. Everyone laughs at the amount people take, and once the roll is finished and everyone has had a go, you drop the bomb. For each piece of toilet paper taken, the person has to tell the group something about himself or herself that the others don’t know.

If I Could: Ask people to think about a situation – something they read, they saw – and talk about it for 2 minutes, and basically share their dreams, possible or impossible, with the group.

At A Party: Ice Breakers That Double Up As Hilarious Games

Getting a group of people together at a party often means a group of varied ages, interests, backgrounds and such, so the best way to get the party started, so as to speak, is get in a few of these ice breakers [5].

Groups That Draw Together: Get people to form random groups (every one wearing red, or all who love Johnny Depp) of equal numbers. Now hand each group a sheet of paper, a pencil and some colors and ask them to draw something, together. Each group can be given the same subject to draw on. Each member gets 60 seconds to draw something and then passes the same sheet to the next who continues the drawing, and so on and so forth. The group that finishes first, wins!

Doctor, I Have A Strange Disease: This game can either be played in one group of 10-15 people, or split into groups of 4-5 if there’s more of a crowd. One person acts out, in a silly and over the top manner, as a person with an illness, and the others have to guess the illness

My Other Half: This works well for large groups with people who don’t know much about each other. Make couple cards (think Adam & Eve, Romeo & Juliet, Bonnie & Clyde, etc) – write one name on each card with no repeats. Hand each guest one card – the game is that they have to find their other half by asking other guests yes or no questions only. The first couple to “complete themselves” wins.

Tell Us A Story: Draw a large grid square on a sheet of paper and in the four quadrants, write four fun topics: your worst date, the worst work day, the time you were most embarrassed and a vacation gone wrong. Guests line up and toss a coin at the quadrant, and then have to recite a story about the topic they “chose”. The funnier the better.

Do You Have? You can split a large group of guests into teams and then give each team a pre-prepared list of things to produce from their purses and pockets (think coins, $100 dollar bill, a baby picture, bifocals, a condom). Limited time and the team with everything or almost wins.

Animal Sounds: Each guest is handed one of a pair of cards, with an animal’s name on it, and on random and in secret, another guest is handed a duplicate of the same. Guests walk around making the sounds and doing the actions of those animals till they find their partner.

Nutty Questions, Nuttier Answers: Write zany questions on separate chits of paper – things like “Do you like potatoes?” Then on separate chits of paper, write equally zany answers like, “I have only one dream, and that’s it”. Stack the piles on each side of a table and split the group into two. One participant from the question group picks a chit and reads it, while one participant from the answer groups reads an answer – making for some really zany conversation!

Who Am I? Simple, easy but fun to do. Write the names of cartoon character on chits of paper, fold them and put them into a bowl. Now ask people to fish out chits one by one and then try and enact that character (think Goofy, Donald Duck, Betty Boop, Spock, Captain Jack Sparrow), while the others have to guess the name. Make the characters as funny and colorful as possible for some hilarious fun.

And you don’t have to limit yourself to just these ideas. If you are the host, think of the most fun you had at a party and take inspiration from there. And if it’s in the office, well, it doesn’t have to be a boring meeting, does it?

Reference

[1]^Mind Tools: Ice Breakers[2]^Ice Breakers: Ice Breaker Ideas[3]^The Balance: Fun Ice Breaker Questions[4]^The Balance: The Five of Anything Ice Breaker[5]^Ice Breakers: Party Games

The post 15 Ice Breakers That Instantly Connect You with Anyone at Work and Party appeared first on Lifehack.

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trendingnewsb · 7 years

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15 Ice Breakers That Instantly Connect You with Anyone at Work and Party

When Would You need Ice Breakers?

In large groups like meetings and training sessions, ice breakers help people engage with each other and get cracking [1]. Ice breakers are supposed to do multiple things:

Thaw the ice: The ice is usually the fact that the people in the group (including you) haven’t met and interacted with each other.

Turn the participants into contributors: Be it a training session or just a conversation, ice breakers are meant to draw people out of their shells and contribute their bit to the interaction.

15 Ice Breakers That Truly Thaw the Chill

At Work: Introductory Ice Breakers For Sessions and Training

If I Could: Ask people to think about a situation – something they read, they saw – and talk about it for 2 minutes, and basically share their dreams, possible or impossible, with the group.

At A Party: Ice Breakers That Double Up As Hilarious Games

Reference

[1]^Mind Tools: Ice Breakers[2]^Ice Breakers: Ice Breaker Ideas[3]^The Balance: Fun Ice Breaker Questions[4]^The Balance: The Five of Anything Ice Breaker[5]^Ice Breakers: Party Games

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