#that person hasn't taken shape yet
Text
Honestly I'm pretty tired of supporting nostalgebraist-autoresponder. Going to wind down the project some time before the end of this year.
Posting this mainly to get the idea out there, I guess.
This project has taken an immense amount of effort from me over the years, and still does, even when it's just in maintenance mode.
Today some mysterious system update (or something) made the model no longer fit on the GPU I normally use for it, despite all the same code and settings on my end.
This exact kind of thing happened once before this year, and I eventually figured it out, but I haven't figured this one out yet. This problem consumed several hours of what was meant to be a relaxing Sunday. Based on past experience, getting to the bottom of the issue would take many more hours.
My options in the short term are to
A. spend (even) more money per unit time, by renting a more powerful GPU to do the same damn thing I know the less powerful one can do (it was doing it this morning!), or
B. silently reduce the context window length by a large amount (and thus the "smartness" of the output, to some degree) to allow the model to fit on the old GPU.
Things like this happen all the time, behind the scenes.
I don't want to be doing this for another year, much less several years. I don't want to be doing it at all.
----
In 2019 and 2020, it was fun to make a GPT-2 autoresponder bot.
[EDIT: I've seen several people misread the previous line and infer that nostalgebraist-autoresponder is still using GPT-2. She isn't, and hasn't been for a long time. Her latest model is a finetuned LLaMA-13B.]
Hardly anyone else was doing anything like it. I wasn't the most qualified person in the world to do it, and I didn't do the best possible job, but who cares? I learned a lot, and the really competent tech bros of 2019 were off doing something else.
And it was fun to watch the bot "pretend to be me" while interacting (mostly) with my actual group of tumblr mutuals.
In 2023, everyone and their grandmother is making some kind of "gen AI" app. They are helped along by a dizzying array of tools, cranked out by hyper-competent tech bros with apparently infinite reserves of free time.
There are so many of these tools and demos. Every week it seems like there are a hundred more; it feels like every day I wake up and am expected to be familiar with a hundred more vaguely nostalgebraist-autoresponder-shaped things.
And every one of them is vastly better-engineered than my own hacky efforts. They build on each other, and reap the accelerating returns.
I've tended to do everything first, ahead of the curve, in my own way. This is what I like doing. Going out into unexplored wilderness, not really knowing what I'm doing, without any maps.
Later, hundreds of others with go to the same place. They'll make maps, and share them. They'll go there again and again, learning to make the expeditions systematically. They'll make an optimized industrial process of it. Meanwhile, I'll be locked in to my own cottage-industry mode of production.
Being the first to do something means you end up eventually being the worst.
----
I had a GPT chatbot in 2019, before GPT-3 existed. I don't think Huggingface Transformers existed, either. I used the primitive tools that were available at the time, and built on them in my own way. These days, it is almost trivial to do the things I did, much better, with standardized tools.
I had a denoising diffusion image generator in 2021, before DALLE-2 or Stable Diffusion or Huggingface Diffusers. I used the primitive tools that were available at the time, and built on them in my own way. These days, it is almost trivial to do the things I did, much better, with standardized tools.
Earlier this year, I was (probably) one the first people to finetune LLaMA. I manually strapped LoRA and 8-bit quantization onto the original codebase, figuring out everything the hard way. It was fun.
Just a few months later, and your grandmother is probably running LLaMA on her toaster as we speak. My homegrown methods look hopelessly antiquated. I think everyone's doing 4-bit quantization now?
(Are they? I can't keep track anymore -- the hyper-competent tech bros are too damn fast. A few months from now the thing will be probably be quantized to -1 bits, somehow. It'll be running in your phone's browser. And it'll be using RLHF, except no, it'll be using some successor to RLHF that everyone's hyping up at the time...)
"You have a GPT chatbot?" someone will ask me. "I assume you're using AutoLangGPTLayerPrompt?"
No, no, I'm not. I'm trying to debug obscure CUDA issues on a Sunday so my bot can carry on talking to a thousand strangers, every one of whom is asking it something like "PENIS PENIS PENIS."
Only I am capable of unplugging the blockage and giving the "PENIS PENIS PENIS" askers the responses they crave. ("Which is ... what, exactly?", one might justly wonder.) No one else would fully understand the nature of the bug. It is special to my own bizarre, antiquated, homegrown system.
I must have one of the longest-running GPT chatbots in existence, by now. Possibly the longest-running one?
I like doing new things. I like hacking through uncharted wilderness. The world of GPT chatbots has long since ceased to provide this kind of value to me.
I want to cede this ground to the LLaMA techbros and the prompt engineers. It is not my wilderness anymore.
I miss wilderness. Maybe I will find a new patch of it, in some new place, that no one cares about yet.
----
Even in 2023, there isn't really anything else out there quite like Frank. But there could be.
If you want to develop some sort of Frank-like thing, there has never been a better time than now. Everyone and their grandmother is doing it.
"But -- but how, exactly?"
Don't ask me. I don't know. This isn't my area anymore.
There has never been a better time to make a GPT chatbot -- for everyone except me, that is.
Ask the techbros, the prompt engineers, the grandmas running OpenChatGPT on their ironing boards. They are doing what I did, faster and easier and better, in their sleep. Ask them.
5K notes
·
View notes
Note
*stares into the distance as it fucking snows for me outside*
Thinking about fae!price rn. I wanna chew on him. Badly.
It's snowing here too! The snow always feels like it's drowning out every other color in the world, muting and muffling everything into a soft grey. Inescapable. Consumptive.
Laying in bed with you is such a simple pleasure. Price is an early riser, never one to sleep when his tethers hum and pull at him to work, to collect. It isn't easy to relax when the winter's cold follows him. Something always needs doing. He takes his pleasure, his relaxation, where he can.
He brushes his fingers over your cheek, lets his skin just barely touch yours. Your heat follows him, your breath even and steady. For having such a tie to the sun you certainly sleep late. Or maybe that's just from having him in bed with you. Your fingers curl against his chest, your hair spilled against the pillows as you tangle your legs with his, cuddled close and comfortable against the chill he fills the room with. Nothing he's ever done in his life was good, there's no merit to the debts he collects, no pain he hasn't caused someone. Yet you love him, you open your arms to him and welcome him into your bed.
Two people who never should have taken to each other.
Price takes in your warmth, admires your soft edges, does his best not to wake you as he traces your features. Each curve so delicately maintained by blood and bone, things he knows well but could never hope to force into your shape. Not with the same masterful hand that crafted you. He couldn't hope to know the swoop of your lashes, or the plush of your lips, could map every inch of your skin and still marvel at it.
You don't ask him to be anything different, don't fret drawing the devil in your hand. Maybe it's his penance, to find someone that makes him want to be better, to feel the tired blink of your lashes like the twist of a knife.
"Did I wake you, Sweetheart?" He asks, keeping his voice low. You close your eyes and press your face to his neck, your lips pushing against his throat gently. He wishes you'd bite him, that your teeth would rend flesh from bone, take the misery he surely was damned to. You never do.
"No," You murmur, your breath skating warm over his skin, "should be getting up anyway."
"Just a little longer," Price entreats, wrapping his arms around you, you hum and he tilts his head to kiss your forehead, "then I'll let you go."
"What's got you so sentimental?" You ask, your smile curving against his pulse. He doesn't know. Time, maybe. Finally having something he didn't know he wanted, didn't know he needed. Finding a home that feels like home, a person that stands on their own two feet without him and still holds his hand like they need the support.
"It's snowing," He says instead.
"You hate the snow."
"I know," He presses his lips to your forehead again, keeps them there as he watches the window, the soft morning light, the blanket of snow, "but you don't."
#cod x reader#x reader#x oc#cod x oc#1fae1#captain john price#john price#captain price mw2#captain johnathan price#john price cod#captain price#captain price x reader#captain price x oc#price x witch#oc: witch#john price x reader#price x reader#john price x you#fae!price#captain john price x reader#this got really sweet I'm feeling very emotional right now#I haven't written them in a while I missed them
218 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello there... Can I please request a part 2 for the growing old together? With Law, Sabo, Corazon and Mihawk.
𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: law, sabo, rosinante, mihawk
𝐂/𝐖: fluff, hurt
𝐀/𝐍: Hello there! (￣∇￣)ゞ
𝐖/𝐂: 760 +
| m a s t e r l i s t | - | p t . 1 |
𝐋𝐀𝐖
✧ Already, he will be the kind of old man who will grumble until the last day of his life.
✧ Even old, he will love you. Maybe not with as much passion as before but he will love you.
✧ His motto is “You're the one who annoys me the best”
✧ He's the type to grumble in the corner and, if you don't say anything back to him or make fun of him about his habit of muttering under his breath, he will worry. He'll be relieved only if you say something nasty in return.
✧ He will be a big loner in your life as a couple so he will not want children whether they are adopted or not.
✧ If you bring him an animal on the other hand (a black cat, by chance) he will be grumpy at first because it's a flea bag and needs to be taken care of. However, you will notice when your back is turned that he is talking to the cat. Finally, after several months of living together, the cat will become an integral part of your family.
✧ The guest room will be renamed by Bepo’s room.
𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐎
✧ He will be loyalty incarnate.
✧ Every time you have long-distance arguments and he hangs the Den Den Mushi in your face, you will seriously want to slit his throat. He will be like this in old age. Yet, family will always be stronger than anything and he will always come back to you. He will always think that he cares too much about you to let you down for nothing. Even if he refuses to admit that he was wrong.
✧ The question of children will be a thorny point in your life as a couple because he is very afraid of reproducing the pattern he experienced in his family. He will be terrified of seeing his child as an heir or, worse, of ending up with a child with the same personality as his parents or biological brother.
✧ If you have any, Luffy and Ace will be their uncles in the same way that Dadan and Garp will be their grandparents.
✧ Whatever your age, he will be extremely protective of you and will want to keep you as safe as possible.
✧ You will always come before his dreams.
𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄
✧ He will love you more and more throughout his life.
He will first love you enormously when he meets you then he will love you a little more for your loyalty when you are there to help him during his recovery after he was injured by Doflamingo. He will love you a notch higher when you form his ideal family with your second child (the first will forever remain Law). Finally, he will love you to the fullest when you find yourself just the two of you during your last days in a house filled to the brim with photos and memories of his life that he had always dreamed of.
✧ Absolutely ALL of Law's Wanted Posters will be hung with stickers on your fridge. ALL!
✧ After you have your first house all to yourself, you will pray that he doesn't accidentally set it on fire. He will pray with you. Eventually, he will simply stop smoking when he learns that you will have a child at home since he will not want to influence his health.
✧ He will be the type who, even at 80, will serve you breakfast in bed with the food cut into the shape of little hearts.
𝐌𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊
✧ Mihawk is a loner who, even if he has the best intentions, will have great difficulty communicating. He will lock himself into a routine where feelings will not have much room to express themselves.
✧ You will end up getting divorced and leaving Kuraigana. He won't try to hold you back or try to explain away your wrongs. From the moment you tell him you want to divorce during dinner, he will simply respond "Okay" before continuing his meal.
✧ It is Perona who will find you and accuse you of the fact that he hasn't left his castle for months. You will then understand that he cares about you despite his acceptance of the separation.
✧ However, even if you both try to give your relationship another chance, it will not work because your needs are too different.
✧ You will settle for a relationship where you will be separated but you will meet up every few years to check in on each other.
✧ Zoro will be quite free but Perona will really have the energy of the child of a divorced couple who is in shared custody.
𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @iheartamora @bontensh0e @opchara @lys-ada @xomingyu @dozcan123
#one piece#one piece x reader#trafalgar law#trafalgar law x reader#sabo#sabo x reader#dracule mihawk#mihawk x reader#donquixote rosinante#rosinante x reader
314 notes
·
View notes
Text
MITSUYA X HIS RUNWAY QUEEN
Mitsuya x Black fem reader
A/n: This was requested!! It was part of a 2 person request so I'll reply to the actual request when I do Smiley's
SPOILED. YOU WILL BE TOTALLY SPOILEDDD BY HIM GOOD GOD.
I'm talking handwritten love notes, handmade plushies and outfits, jewelry, making sure at LEAST ur nails are always done, flowers, everythinggg.
He seems to me definitely the gift giver romantic kind of guy. Esp if you're just as stylish as him. Even when yall are younger, and he hasn't gotten his big designer paycheck yet, he's still finding ways to spoil you. Including learning how to do nails. And he can do ANYTHINGGG you want. French tips, painted designs, charms, different shapes, dip, acrylic, rhinestones, ANYTHING. That man is a master at nail art. And he's starting to get really good with doing your hair. He makes a big thing of it, going to the store the day prior to hair day to get the cut fruit for you and everything. He's SO cute. He's already getting used to doing Mana and Luna's hair, so he's got the patience for it.
Always sends goodmorning/goodnight/checkin texts. He's the easiest communicator ever. I feel like if you guys ever do have arguments, they're shortlived. He's great at getting to the heart of the issue calmly and without using damaging/hurtful words.
He's another cuddly guy. Loves inviting you over afterschool to cuddle and just spend quiet time with eachother before he has to get up again to make sure his sisters are taken care of ect. If you stay over, he's more than grateful if you help him out. Be it with dinner, or with the girls. It takes a huge load off his shoulders. During these times, he likes to come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, resting his cheek against you. Something about you just helping out with / being around his family brings a domestic feel that he adores
He love love LOVES to have you wear his stuff. His clothes, things he's designed, his jewelry, anything. He thinks you look sooo cute
Romantic dates as much as he can manage. He's one of those 'if he wanted to, he would' guys. Not every romantic date has to be expensive. He finds all kinds of new and cute ideas for dates. He likes to keep the relationship interesting, and more importantly, keep you feeling like his princess.
He's never afraid to let people know you're dating. He'll invite you to toman meetings, and he isn't afraid to hold your hand or kiss in public. As far as it isnt anything too steamy, he's totally fine with it
HE'S A COOOOK. That man can definitely cook, and he has a bunch of recipes in his arsenal to keep Mana and Luna from getting bored of foods. He likes to show off and pretend to be some celebrity chef in the kitchen after inviting you over for a meal or something.
He likes to tease a little. All in good nature. He isnt the type of guy to poke at insecurities though. More like screenshotting typos you made, and making fun of long gone slightly embarrassing events like you tripping or something. He never means to make you feel bad, just to get a giggle or two.
He's the type of boyfriend who will need his girlfriend to keep him in check sometimes. Not that he's out there starting random arguments, but in the sense that he'll start to overwork himself, and he'll get burnt out if you don't say something. And he'll be really grateful if you do.
Mitsuya is the type of guy to do promise rings, and then melt down the material your ring was made out of to infuse into your wedding band. He'll talk about you with his last name, and he's very open to talking about the future with you. He's one of the best types of guys to have around. He'll never leave you behind, and he'll gently push you just enough when you start slacking on your goals. Not only that, but he's the kind of guy who'll notice you're overworking you're stressed before you notice yourself. He's 10000% husband material, and the best thing about being in a relationship with him is that you both encourage eachother to grow and better yourselves together.
A/n: Requested Mitsuya Hc's! I hope they're to your liking <33
Reblogs, Requests and Comments are appreciated!!
My requests are : Open!
#🍒rambles#🍒writes#mitsuya#mitsuya takashi#mitsuya x reader#mitsuya x black reader#mitsuya x you#mitsuya fluff#tokyo revengers#tokyo rev#tr#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers x black reader#tokyo rev x reader#tokyo rev x black reader#tokyo rev x you#tokyo revengers x you#tr x you#tr x black reader#tr x reader
150 notes
·
View notes
Text
Xiao x Reader - a drabble on love.
ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴡʜᴏ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴏ ɪ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴʟʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴡ.
➳❥ - no dialogue, just simple descriptions of a quiet, starry night spent with xiao.
The moon hangs over the night sky, and you are illuminated with the wonders of the night lights. Tonight isn’t special; it's simply like any other night, but you're here, Xiao's here, and it's peaceful. No words are exchanged between either one of you. It's a quiet night created and built to listen to the steady and rampant heartbeats of lovers. It's a silent night made for the midnight snores and late laughter of lovers who've awakened and been awake. Neither of you pays much mind, for nobody else lays on the roof of the inn.
A fair combination of yellow and white glow against your skin, and Xiao can't help but steer his eyes towards you. Love, he feels, is terrifying in the ways it can manipulate and capture his mind, seeping into each crack and crevice of his heart. The way his love for you sways and controls his lungs and how he breathes— it's abnormal. It's strange, and at first, he wanted it all out, for Xiao had wished to keep away from all that could strip him of his focused duties, but it crept in closer and took him by the hand, much like you do during those spontaneous starry days where the sun shines, yet you shone brighter in comparison.
That's you, simply. It's always you. You, the one who always catches his attention. You, the one who replaces the dull sun with a true, grounded star. You're special, you're different, and not because of the way you look. It's not just the hand that interlocks with his on evil nights full of comfort for karma; it's not the clothes you carry that sway around your hips and your arms, nor is it your silky, velvet sleeves that drag with the wind. You're simply special. You stand out to him far more than any person that any society norm could deem beautiful. He couldn't care less about how wide or thin your hips are; he doesn't even think once on what shape your face has taken. He never paid mind to the weight you carry, mental or physical. Xiao sees you for more than who you appear to be. He sees you as who you've shown him; he sees you as the one he loves, and that's all that will ever matter in his eyes.
Xiao used to dream of joining his friends. He used to dream of the delicate cottons and fabrics of the afterlife that he could feel when he sees his friends, albeit he might only see them once after death and never again— if that promised haven of peace, tranquility, and love is a promise that is honest and true. If not, that would've been fine for him, too, for he feels he wouldn't ever deserve the taste of a heaven. Xiao, simply, dreamed of dying. He wished to die a warrior, much like the rest of the yaksha. In his eyes, he had nothing to lose before. Rex Lapis is no longer the archon, and the people of Liyue don't seem to need him around anymore, so why bother?
But, he realizes that is no longer the case.
If he were to die, he would lose you. Not only that, but Xiao is bitterly familiar with the poisons of guilt, shame, and sorrow after losing someone he loves. He can't bear to imagine your tears or your sobbing if he were to give his life up for what he deemed as freedom. Besides, he is constantly reminded on quiet nights such as these that he has nearly achieved that complete freedom. Not freedom from his duties, not freedom from his karma, but freedom from loneliness. Ever since you arrived, Xiao has gained friends, he has a slight following, and he, ultimately, has you— and you are everything to him. There are rare times when he won't even think about Rex Lapis when it comes to you. Xiao has set his subconscious priorities straight, even if he hasn't realized it.
Even when years come to pass, even when decades and late centuries take over peaceful days like these, Xiao will never forget you. He will continue to cherish you long after your death, though he prays that the day will never come. Xiao, back before meeting you, would've only hung his head low for your family and friends if your death had passed and reached his ears. But now? He's afraid that he'll never be able to let you go— he may revert to consulting Hu Tao constantly so she could check and see if you'd still remain that ghostly realm of hers.
Xiao's hand twitches at the thought. He realized that he may end up mourning far more from your death than his own God's. He has never been vocal about his anxieties, but you're well aware that he'll sacrifice the whole world and even himself just to keep you alive and well. He recalls a time when you were bedridden, sickly, and in pain from a virus. You never allowed him inside your room during that, but he nearly cried himself to death, begging to the Gods and Celestia that you would come out of that room some day, alive, living, and free. During his nightly visits outside of your bedroom door, you would talk to him in spite of your coughs and sore throat. You would tell him about a particular northern star that shines into your bedroom window at the darkest midnight hour and how, when you recovered, you would love to see it closer on the roof with him.
Funnily enough, those words were spoken exactly one year ago from this day, and here you are. Northern star in view, galaxies hanging above, and you lay here on the roof with Xiao.
Tonight isn’t special; it was never supposed to be. But somehow, with you being here, Xiao being here, and with the moon illuminating the scenery around you two, it's safe to say that tonight and perhaps every night always ends up as a special occasion. He looks over at you. You're asleep, and you have the faintest smile on your lips, and it contaminates his with a smile of his own.
Maybe every night is a special occasion, long as it's spent with you.
#genshin x reader#character x reader#genshin fic#xiao x reader#xiao x you#xiao fanfic#xiao fic#xiao x y/n#character x y/n#character x you#romance#fluff#genshin fluff#xiao fluff#genshin impact fic#genshin x y/n#naw but i love xiao sm#this was self indulgent#solely self indulgent
97 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ty for putting Halsin/abdirak in my brain this is a lovely development. May or may not be opening my art program of choice, who really knows (/j I absolutely am drawing something with them)
anyway
I’d absolutely love to hear what you have to say abt them (mainly bc I’ve seen such a wild variety of takes abt abdirak and I’m curious where you fall in regards to him)
Abdirak is such an ambiguous character so it makes sense to me that there'd be a variety of takes!
There was a lore tweet from his writer a while back that he lost his family as a child and was found by a Pain of Loviatar, nearly dead, and taken in. To me, that paints a picture of a somewhat... I don't want to go as far as to say a tragic figure, but there is something tragic about the idea that this child lost his family and was then taken in by a sadomasochistic cult. That would have been an intensely horrible, abusive environment to grow up in (fitting the themes of this game wrt cults).
By contrast, Halsin also lost his family at a young age, but rather than being taken in by an evil cult, "the Grove became [his] family, with Silvanus as [his] teacher." Halsin got a healthy, supportive environment after losing his family, and given his extremely high levels of empathy and compassion, I imagine he'd be aware of just how much not having that shaped Abdirak.
But then we get to the idea of them meeting, and I'm honestly a bit still confused because that requires clearing up a huge contradiction. Basically, some of the goblin leaders are fully aware Halsin is the bear (Gut and possibly Dror Ragzlin as well), while Minthara goes back and forth on either knowing or not knowing (she says she hasn't seen Halsin if the player asks, yet if he dies and the player uses SWD, his corpse HEAVILY implies he was killed by Minthara personally). Did Halsin ever come out of bear form around any of the leaders?
If so, then it is possible Abdirak was brought in to torture Halsin as well as Liam, which would make for interesting interactions. If not, then likely it was solely for Liam, but there's still ways to imagine them interacting- maybe Abdirak took a wrong turn and found his way to the warg pens? Maybe Halsin had been knocked unconscious, reverting back to his elf form and letting them talk?
From there we have a LOT of directions this could go, ranging from dark (what if the Grove is raided and Abdirak talks the goblins into letting him 'keep' Halsin since they don't need him anymore?) to acrimonious (Abdirak torturing Halsin and Halsin deciding that's just one indignity too many to stand) to sexy (Halsin getting turned on and leading to a consensual but confusing encounter) to strangely sweet (them opening up to each other for reasons they're not entirely sure about but that lead them to see something in each other). Maybe a combination of the above.
I have entirely too many thoughts about them considering Abdirak has like 10 minutes of screentime tops lmfao
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Our relationship was shit for so long before he died."
"It wasn't your fault, Ed. You know that, right?" he asks, suddenly worried that he doesn't, that no one's told him and he's been carrying a world of guilt along with the sorrow. He means all of it, the death and the silence and the complicated feelings.
-
Ed deals with the fallout of everything he went through in S2.
Stede finds him crying under the pile of soft, colorful blankets they picked together for their bed. He started feeling worried when he couldn't find him where he was supposed to be at dinner time - trying to fix the hole on their roof, because it rained two days ago and there's still a small lake on their kitchen floor - and now he's glad he came looking for him. He can hear the way his sobs tear out of his chest, see the way the blankets shake as he cries, and he feels like crying himself.
He approaches the bed quietly, not wanting to startle him, and whispers his name once he's close enough, to let him know he's here.
"Ed?"
There's no response, just more sobbing from under the blankets, and Stede's heart aches seeing him like this. It isn't new or unexpected, he's been here with Ed doing the comforting a few times himself, but it doesn't hurt any less every time it happens. He moves closer and sits gently on the bed next to the bundle of fabric, places his hand somewhere around Ed's middle.
"Darling? Do you want to come out from under there for a bit?"
The blankets shift and Ed's face appears, cheeks tear streaked and eyes red from crying, silver-black curls in disarray.
Stede doesn't hesitate before he moves forward to wrap him in his arms and hold him close against his chest. He's had the opportunity to learn that Ed is a tactile person, gets most of his comfort from touching and being touched, because this isn't the first time they've had to be there for each other over the past few weeks. It turns out giving up the sea to renovate an inn didn't leave all their problems behind in their old life with all their physical belongings.
Stede wasn't taken by surprise this time around, has had to learn over and over that running away solves nothing if they don't make the time to sit together and talk, even if he is truly awful at following through on it himself. It isn't made any easier just for knowing, but the difference with all their previous attempts at this is that they have the time now, and a safe space to embrace each other and cry until their hurts feel less sharp, until the heartbreak eases and they can fall asleep in one another's arms and wake up to a brighter sunrise in the morning.
He combs his fingers through Ed's hair unhurriedly, rubs tender circles on his back, until Ed's breathing starts to even out and his voice comes small from where he's pressed against Stede's front.
"Our relationship was shit for so long before he died."
Oh, so today is about Izzy. Stede is aware the subject is delicate, was there to comfort Ed as he cried when he died in his arms, had a front row seat to Izzy's deathbed confession and to the turbulent days before it happened. He's seen enough of the two of them interacting to guess at years of hurt and misplaced love and loyalty between them, watched the way they rubbed painfully against each other until they were both worn thin, and never fully understood what kept them together. He was there when Izzy sold them out and Ed retaliated in his defense, and he was also there for the period of time when they didn't talk to each other at all after Ed's almost death and the loss of Izzy's leg, even if he missed everything that happened in between (he's heard snippets about those days from the crew, but Ed hasn't chosen to share anything about that time himself yet, and Stede understands. Sometimes it takes a long time to be able to shape some events into words that can be shared with others). And with all that he has seen and been told, It's no wonder this is weighting heavily on Ed after the loss.
It was such a tangled web they got themselves caught in, and Stede doesn't even know where to begin to soothe him. His own terrible relationships were all a lot less complicated than Ed and Izzy's. His father was very straight forward in his contempt for him, he and Mary were dreadfully ill matched from the beginning, and his children were simply too young when he left to have much to say about him.
"It can't have been all bad," he offers as he strokes his back gently. "There must have been some good somewhere."
Ed doesn't answer for some time, breathes brokenly against Stede's chest and keeps soaking his shirt with silent tears. Stede would mop up the entire ocean with it if it made Ed feel better.
"We met a few years after I left Hornigold's ship," he whispers at last.
"That's your old captain, right? The one who was a dick?"
"Yeah. He fed a cabin boy a live crab once." He drops the fact like he needs to let it out, like removing a splinter to ease the pain. Stede gasps and shudders, flashes to a dead goose and a lot of blood, wonders how many other nightmares are hiding in Ed's memories and wishes love was enough to make it all far less terrible than it is. He buries his face in Ed's hair and kisses his head tenderly; if this is all he can give, he will give it until he's raw. "He was shit," Ed continues. "Sailing under him was the fuckin' worst, so I left as soon as I was old enough to run my own crew. I met Iz a few years later, in the early days of Blackbeard."
"What was it like back then?" Stede asks, curious to know what life looked like for twenty-something-year-old Ed. How did he spend his time in between raids? What did he dream of? Did he wish for impossible things like twenty-something-year-old Stede did?
Ed is silent for a while, like he's taking his time to dig up the memories and weigh how he feels about them before he gives his verdict.
"We wanted the same shit at first, and he was there, ya know? Didn't try to stab me in the back like the other fuckers. But he always loved the whole thing. Piracy, becoming a legend, being top dog. He fuckin' loved Blackbeard."
Stede feels a pang of shame, remembers telling Ed he'd give everything he owned away if only he could be like Blackbeard for a moment.
"And you?" he asks, far more interested now in hearing what the man whose life he has chosen to share has to say than in his old fantasies of swashbuckling and glory.
"I dunno," Ed pauses. "I think I liked being the best at something. Calling the shots." Stede can certainly understand that. "And it was fun, for a while, getting back at the fuckin' British, taking whatever we wanted, coming up with the next plan, watching it work out just like I saw it in my head. But-" he hesitates.
"Yes?"
"I think I stuck with it for so long 'cause I thought it was the only option." And this sounds like a realization he's having as he speaks it, like he's chasing the thoughts inside his mind and threading them into sentences; and it's laden with sorrow, as if he wishes he could go back and recapture something that feels lost forever.
Stede aches for him, understands all about feeling out of options and realizing how much time has been lost to the suffocating feeling of being trapped. He spent over forty years stuck in the choices his father made for him, too scared to take a single step to break free, even when he cried himself to sleep every night. The fear was just that strong. Fear of change, but also fear that nothing would ever be better, no matter what he changed. It took meeting Ed to realize that he was drowning the entire time, and that chasing hope can be worth the risk and the terror.
With every conversation they have he realizes more and more that maybe that's what piracy was like for Ed, even though for the longest time he couldn't fathom how it could possibly feel like a cage to someone when it was such an exhilarating promise of freedom for him. He's been learning to see a lot of things under a different light over the past few months of his life.
"We have options now," he reminds him, tries to give back some of the hope Ed's kindled inside him since the day they met and he quite literally saved his life. They're living one of them, but they can just as easily leave the whole thing behind to chase their next adventure. As long as they're together, Stede is convinced there's nothing they can't do.
"Not before you. I didn't see any other options before I met you," Ed says it easily, like the words aren't the most precious gift Stede's ever received in his life.
His heart stutters. He can feel it stop for a couple of seconds before it starts beating furiously against his ribcage again, and the knot that tied itself in his throat when he found Ed crying alone tightens and grows until it burns him. He spent decades believing every word wielded sharp as a blade against him, feeling the bruises left by the stones thrown at him as a child. He's been convinced that he'd ruin everyone and everything around him for so long, that it's hard to believe he brought something good to Ed's life, even now, even when he has the evidence of Ed's presence and his words and actions. He's trying, he's trying hard every minute of their lives, but it still doesn't come easy.
Before he can think of anything to say and try to push it past the tightness in his throat, Ed goes on.
"I tried to love him. I think I hated him before the end." The words are barely audible, like he almost doesn't want to let go of them.
Stede holds him tighter, tries to press his love into Ed's skin, soundlessly show him how much he doesn't judge him for having complicated feelings about a complicated man.
"I don't think there's anything wrong with that, Ed."
"I asked him to kill me, before- before the crew-" Stede's heart constricts and dies a little at the idea of a world where he was too late to find Ed and bring him back.
"Darling," is all he can offer. Some things are too big for words, too big to encompass with a few sounds. He holds onto Ed, gifts him his silence and his love as best he can.
"I wanted to leave, Stede, I wanted to be gone in some fuckin' way so badly. He wouldn't let Blackbeard go, I thought he'd give me that at least."
"But he didn't."
"I don't even fuckin' know why," Ed chokes, sounding frustrated by his inability to understand. "Don't know why I kept him around for so long, either."
"Maybe there isn't a simple reason. Maybe you need time to figure it out."
Sometimes answers aren't straightforward, don't come neatly tied with a bow. Sometimes it takes years to understand and undo the damage. Sometimes it can't be undone at all, it can only be stitched up and left to scar over time.
"It wasn't your fault, Ed. You know that, right?" he asks, suddenly worried that he doesn't, that no one's told him and he's been carrying a world of guilt along with the sorrow. He means all of it, the death and the silence and the complicated feelings. There isn't a single thing Ed caused just by wanting things for himself, it's the world that sucks, the world that continues to be unfair and break all the best in people. The world and the men like Ricky and Stede's father and Ed's dad.
Ed falls apart in his arms when he hears it, cries louder than he's cried all night, and Stede thanks his lucky stars that he thought to tell him, that he didn't fumble this as he's fumbled so many things in his life. He presses him closer into his body, lets him get it all out and continues to use his flesh and his bones and his love to support him.
"I think he died knowing that he was loved, Ed. Isn't that what counts?" he says, once Ed's sobs have calmed down slightly.
"Then why do I still feel like shit, Stede?" He sounds so small when he asks it, voice raw and worn out.
"Well, life's a dick, darling, remember?" Stede answers kindly, rubbing his hand over Ed's arm like he did the first time he said those words. They've become somewhat of a refrain between them, for when they're struggling, or having complicated emotions, or when they fall back into old habits during particularly hard days.
It's a reminder that no matter how difficult what they're going through is, or how complicated they are as individuals, it doesn't make them unlovable. At least by now they're aware that the fear of that weights so heavily on the both of them that it keeps tripping them up, is why they sometimes argue and end up feeling like they're drowning no matter how hard they fight against it, or how happy and in love they are every other day. It's also a reminder that no matter how many times they mess up neither of them is going anywhere, that they're committed to loving each other for every virtue and every flaw, through every mistake and every argument, even (or perhaps especially) when they struggle to love themselves.
"Yeah," Ed agrees, eventually. And if it sounds a bit reluctant, Stede won't call him out on it. He'll just keep reminding him as often as he needs to hear it.
They sit together in silence for a while longer, drawing quiet comfort from each other, Stede petting Ed adoringly, grateful to be able to provide him with some peace in the storm. He runs his hands through his curls in the way he knows Ed finds soothing, traces abstract shapes on his skin and over his clothes, feels his chest rise and fall against his own and thinks maybe the clouds have passed for the day. Until.
"D'ya think he was right about what he said?"
"Which part?"
"About being just Ed."
The wistfulness in his voice takes Stede apart and puts him back together in the same instant. He can relate to the doubt, to asking himself if who he is worth the trouble, worth the effort, worth the love of others. Sometimes he stumbles, says the wrong thing or dwells in his worst memories for too long and has to start building himself up all over again, it feels like. He knows he isn't starting from scratch, knows there's ground gained every day he feels comfortable in his own skin, every day he makes Ed smile, every night they fall asleep tangled around each other after a long day of being happy together -but it still feels like that sometimes.
He knows Ed grapples with similar insecurities, but Stede never has any doubts when it comes to him. He may have to wrestle with every ghost in his head to even get a glimpse of his own worth, but he sees Ed's easily and always bright like midday sunlight. It's large enough to fill their home, and their ocean home, and the whole entire seabed. Ed burns bright and lovely wherever he goes, is the easiest person to love Stede has ever known.
"I think Ed is wonderful," he says, with the full force of his conviction behind the words.
Ed makes a small sound that pierces through Stede.
"You kinda have to say that," he rebuffs.
This, Stede can do, he can give with open palms and open heart. This is how he learns to love himself, through loving Ed with everything he is.
"Ed loves me and he makes me happy," he begins, and he can feel Ed start to shake with tears again. "Ed is patient with me and he keeps me safe. Ed fought for me and he fights for me every day. Ed left everything behind to build a home with me, and he works hard to make sure it holds strong. Ed makes me breakfast in bed and remembers my favorite marmalade and how I take my tea. He listens to me and he makes sure I listen to myself. He forgives me often and he makes me feel adored." Ed trembles quietly with every word, but Stede knows these are necessary tears, cleansing tears. "Ed is wonderful, and I love him."
They're both crying now, clinging to each other and pouring their pain and their love and their hope into the other's body, into the world around them, into their quiet room in the house with solid bones they're restoring, into every step of the life they're choosing.
Stede keeps one arm around Ed, rubs his other hand gently over every bit of him he can reach, trying to keep him warm and safe. Ed is lying half on top of him by now, tucked flush against him and still weeping occasionally. They stay like that for a long time, resting in the safety of their embrace, with nowhere to go and no emergency that needs them, until Ed's calmed down and gone pliant above him, and Stede suspects he may be falling asleep on him.
"Let's get you more comfortable, love. Go wash your face while I make us some tea? Then we can have it in bed."
Ed stirs slowly, hums in sleepy agreement.
Letting go of him feels like ripping himself in half, but Stede hurries through heating up water and measuring tea into their cups as much as he can, avoiding the puddle in the middle of their kitchen that they still haven't managed to fully clean up, and soon he's heading back towards him. They rejoin after their tasks are done, sit side by side against the pillows sipping the tea Stede made until their cups are empty and their bodies pleasantly warm and exhausted.
It may have been a hard day, but the tea is sweet, the bed toasty from their bodies and the blankets, and Ed's skin smells lovely from the soap he used to wash away his tears. When the teacups have been discarded by their bed, Stede lies down and takes Ed in his arms, drags the covers over both of them. Ed settles readily into him, tucks himself under Stede's chin where he belongs and intertwines their fingers against his stomach. He sighs deeply once he's resting comfortably, and Stede hopes it means some of the tension has been released and he'll be able to have a good night's sleep. He nuzzles his face affectionately into the curve of Ed's neck, drapes himself securely against his back, a blanket and a barrier between him and the world. If his body's good for anything, it's the safekeeping of the man he loves.
#blackbonnet#gentlebeard#ofmd#our flag means death#ofmd fic#my fic#i am releasing this fic into the world i want to suffer no longer
66 notes
·
View notes
Text
Noodling on an "Oops! Back In Time!" story idea where the Straw Hats sail through a Grand Line anomaly or whatever and wake up as they were about thirteen years in the past.
Robin is seventeen, still on the run in West Blue. She'd wake up, run down the list of her nakama to decide who needs help first: Franky and Jimbe are grown men already, they're fine, they can handle themselves. The East Blue crew are all little kids. To the best of her knowledge the tragedies that shaped their lives haven't happened yet and won't for a while. They're safe for now.
Chopper is a baby reindeer, probably hasn't eaten his fruit yet. Brook is currently unreachable to her, without a ship or a crew, but Franky is right there in Water 7 with a fleet of battleships that he needs to get rid of before they can be used to frame Tom. Maybe she can assume he'll take care of it.
Sanji is still in Germa kingdom. He's not safe at all.
Robin, who only looks seventeen, pulls out her mad skills as a spy and top-tier pirate and member of the actual Revolutionary Army and hustles to North Blue in record time, snapping necks and serving cunt the whole way. She infiltrates the fuck out of Germa 66 and is on the palace flagship before you can say Security Clearance. Robin's not stupid enough to dangle the poneglyphs or the Ancient Weapons in front of Judge: that's a carrot he would never stop chasing. No, she claims to have details of Vegapunk and Caesar's work on artificial devil fruits, counting on spite to get her through. It does. Robin was at Punk Hazard and Dressrosa and Wano: she knows enough details to make it plausible, and she's a trained academic to boot. She can make it sound right, even if it's not her field, even if it's made-up nonsense that will hopefully have Judge chasing his own tail for years.
Meanwhile, every night she's sending eyes and ears all over the palace looking for the missing third prince. Officially, the kingdom is still in mourning for the double tragedy of losing their Queen and one of the princes in quick succession. Robin cannot find any trace of grief in Judge or his remaining children, even when she's invited to dine with the royal family (there are still two empty chairs at the table, and she's ushered into one of them as though it was nothing. Luckily, she's had decades of keeping calm in the face of casual brutality to perfectly hone her poker face).
It doesn't take her long to find the stairs going down, down into the dark. And there's a dungeon at the bottom, a barred cell containing an eight-year old child who looks so much smaller than his brothers. He's covered in bruises and there's a metal horror wrapped around his head and casual brutality be damned, there are two wolves inside Robin right now and one of them wants to sit down and weep and the other one wants to snap Judge's neck and then tear this castle down brick by brick. Except. Tiny Sanji is doing a one-handed handstand in the middle of his cell. It's a bit wobbly, and he tumbles off-balance when he sees her, but there's nothing wobbly about the smile on the little she can see of his face when he runs to her.
"Robin-chwan!" he chirps, hugging her through the bars. "I knew I couldn't be the only one who came back! I'm so lucky to be rescued by such a dashing lady!" He peers at her through the helmet, eyes huge and blue and earnest. "You got here so fast! Who else is with you? Are you OK?"
And it's just so Sanji, who knows as well as she does where the rest of the crew is-better, probably-to think that she'd go to anyone else before coming here. As though his problems could wait while everyone else is taken care of first.
"Now that I've found you I'm quite alright, Sanji. The crew is just you and me for now, but I'm sure we'll soon change that."
He does a little spin of delight at having her all to himself, and it's the simple glee of a small child spending time with a favourite person. Robin smiles, and retrieves the keys, and holds his tiny hand all of the way out of the castle as he chatters about how amazing she is and who they'll go to find next. They sail away, leaving the palace in flames behind them.
#once tiny sanji gets Prison Fit it's all over for you bozos#nico robin#one piece#sanji#one piece sanji#black leg sanji#blackleg sanji#Germa 66#demon child#ficlet#t minus 13 AU
114 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ocean Deep Ch3 Spectacles And Scales P2
(Warnings for mistreatment of the mers by the sideshow owner and some of the other people, Buying and selling of mers, mentions of mermen sinking ships and hurting people, the mers are in bad shape, etc.
To which Y/n makes a decision that will change her life forever.)
The sun beamed brightly on the world. Bright, big, beautiful, warm, and good enough to chase away the darkness away. Leaving behind a world filled with wonder to be explored and sights to see. The rainbow kaleidescope of colors kissing the light good morning bloomed widely. The rainbow of soft petals were only highlighted by dew drops sparkling bright like a gift from heaven. A sight drawing over many buyers. To hold their beauty. Smell their heavenly fragrance. Present them as gorgeous gifts for loved ones or use to decorate for symbolic occasions.
Fingertips gently slid under the delicate pink of a primrose, tilting it's gorgeous head up to a beautiful smiling face before gentle water rained down onto its delicate body but not hard enough to harm its delicate frame.
"You grew up so pretty. You'll be even prettier once you get to your new home later today, all planted in the soft dirt and being taken cared of by nice people. Such pretty colors too. I envy your simple life."
"You always compliment those buds like real children." F/c eyes looked up and over at kind black ones crinkled up in a smile.
Her boss was standing up and above a table with a secondary teapot in her hands, water flowed freely from the spout and ran into a number of giant pots filled with soft dirt and blooming rose bushes. Blooming with life and ready to be hauled away to their forever home. A place to belong and live out the rest of their lives in peace and quiet. The elderly woman smiled at them fondly as if they were her own children and treated them with as much care and kindness as a mother should. She admired her for that. Her wise demeanor was just a shell hiding her much kinder demeanor. An old hand reached out to nudge between the small branches to pull off a dead leaf free from the overall plant before just letting it fall into the pot to naturally become fertilizer.
"Well they say plants like it when you talk to them. I don't know if that's true but it wouldn't hurt, and I don't think they really mind."
Your smile turned back to the tiny bud that hasn't bloomed yet. Today was the day. After two weeks of caring for the rose bushes, they were going to be delivered to their final forever home. This evening your boss's son would be stopping by to take these potted plants back towards their home on the very far end of town. The horse and cart was already provided for being left outside all ready to go. All the owner needed was for her son to get here, load the six heavy pots into the cart, and then take them to the Henya residence which was on the very edge of town. But you did have a problem with that you hadn't asked yet-
Your boss chuckled. "I suppose so. You'd be surprised by the facts in those rumors."
"Isn't the Henya family gonna be gone for the next month? I thought they were attending a funeral."
The older woman nodded still smiling. "Yes. But Mrs. Henya is staying behind to care for their business in her husband's absence."
That was the second biggest news you've ever heard around here in the past three weeks other than that one day Akira came prancing about through town throwing around fliers advertising the 'grand opening' which now had to be put on hold due to some personal family drama. Being a small town the gossip spread quickly and, according to the rumors, Akira's great grandfather and patriarch of the Henya family passed away a few days ago. So Akira, his parents, and Uncle would all be leaving to travel a few towns over for the funeral and to take care of the family's assets. That'd take a while considering so you were unsure if anyone would be even there to accept the order, but apparently not.
"Will she even be there when he delivers it?"
"Last I heard she's seeing them off as far as the beach but she'll be there when the delivery's made." She smiled assuringly. "So don't worry."
Well you were unsure about that, but this wasn't your business and you didn't run it. You were only paid to help care for the flowers, not give your opinion on how to run your boss's business. And right now you were just paid to water these beauties before they had to leave the shop.
So it was your morning was just bliss. Quiet, serene, and happy as you hummed away doing your normal rounds. Uninterrupted other than the occasional humming and comment between the both of you. Another normal day in anyone's opinion.
"Y/n." You had stopped hours later in the middle of moving one of the pots towards the door in order to make it's journey to the wagon outside easier and shorter for Mrs. Satoshi's son. However your boss had other ideas when she held up a tray of fruit and small tea set. "Come take a break and have lunch with me. You must be tired from lugging around those heavy pots so much."
You were glad for the break after setting the third to last heavy pot near the door and gladly taking the break to eat and take a breather before having to move the last two pots. Thank goodness that the bushes were still relatively small, had they been fully grown then they'd weigh a LOT more. But for now the tired mouth would enjoy her feast of apples and green tea with honey. A nice snack for her efforts. The sweet fruit tasted delicious to your tongue and the tea was just as sweet but a little bitter. Mrs. Satoshi only smiled at you as you ate.
"It's always good to build up a healthy appetite after a hard day's work. Keeps the body strong," she spoke while pouring a second cup of tea for herself. You hummed in agreement. "Oh. Did you hear what happened to a ship in the Seabound River?"
You blinked confused before swallowing the food in your mouth. "Seabound River? Isn't that the giant river that connects to the ocean a few miles away from here?" You didn't know about that rive but you knew that the small river near your woods connected to the bigger river that lead to the bigger one that connected to the ocean.
She nodded again. "There's been a few ships that's been getting attacked and sunk by a siren."
You paused mid bite staring. "Sirens?"
"Or mermaids. I honestly can't tell the difference." She shrugged holding the warm cup to her face. "I just know there's been reports of two of them running..or I should say swimming ramped along the beach and near the entrance of the Seabound River. Attacks any ship leaving or trying to enter port."
You stared stunned at her blinking. "Really? Why would they do that?"
"I'm not entirely sure. Usually they wouldn't be near humans at all let alone sinking ships. Who knows what strange things those creatures get up to?"
Huh. That WAS strange. Granted you didn't know that much about sirens and mermaids, but it was strange two of them would suddenly start sinking ships. Maybe they were trying to claim new territory for themselves? Maybe the fishermen made them angry? Well it didn't really affect you, so you didn't worry about it too much and you weren't going to be going near any big bodies of water anytime soon so you shouldn't be worried about it. You just needed to concentrate yourself with taking care of your own needs and wants.
A few more hours passed by leisurely. You finished moving the pots by the door, helped trim away some other plants, and had just finished selling a handful of carnations to a customer who had just walked in last minute as evening approached.
"Thanks for coming! Have a nice day!," you called out to the retreating customer waving, "Come back soon!"
Your boss quietly came out from the back with a small bag of fertilizer. The smell hit you before you saw her crinkling your nose up from the foul smell. "Was that Niko just now?" Her son? You shook your head snorting the smell away. A slightly worried look passed over her face before looking towards the open door. "It's gotten very late in the day. I wonder where he could be?"
"I'm sure he'll be here before the day's over. He's probably just running late tending to someone."
She hummed. "I suppose so. He does run his own farm..Oh I do hope nothing bad happened."
"He's probably just busy tending to his crops and lost track of time. There's nothing to worry about, Mrs. Satoshi."
"I .. suppose you're right. But it's getting late, and I need to start getting home to my husband before dark. You know how he hates the thought of me staying out after dark especially with the recent disappearance of those poor Kocho girls. I also can't just stay all day waiting for Niko."
Ah. That's right. People were still on edge about that happening. You honestly felt bad for the old woman and her husband. They were some of the kindest people in your town. "I'm sure he'll be here before it gets dark. He knows how important this is to you."
"Important is an understatement. I have a lot of money invested into this delivery. I'd hate to lose business with so much involved." She gently plopped the bag over by some empty pots so be used in them later you supposed.
You hummed. "...Why don't I close for you?" She turned to you surprised. "You shouldn't worry your husband like that. I can stay until Niko arrives and close up for you."
"Oh no, Dear. I couldn't ask you to do that."
"It's not a problem. I'd be happy to help."
"Well if you're sure you don't mind."
"I'm positive! You go on home before you worry someone. I'll be fine."
And that's how you found yourself sweeping the dirt out of the front door a few hours later and looking up at the sky. It looked like sunset had just started making the sky change different colors and people were already starting to head home to lock their doors until morning in fear of the monsters roaming around the dark. However f/c eyes wondered from the sky to just in front of the small shop only to widen seeing a small brown and white horse tied to a post, where it had been staying almost all day hooked up to a cart and ready to be taken out. Except that the man that was supposed to be here loading up all of the pots into the cart and taking them away wasn't here. STILL.
Niko still hasn't arrived yet? But it'd be dark just in an hour or so. Where was he? You took a look back inside at all six pots still sitting there waiting to be taken away. By the time Niko got here, if he even bothered to show up, it'd be too dark to do anything. The order would be late, and there would be money lost. You felt a pit form in your guts. This was a big order with lots of money. A lost order would mean lost money for your sweet boss but more importantly it'd also mean a lost bonus for you too! You could use the extra money for repairs to your family house. Or to save for your retirement. Or for the future family you eventually wanted. Or literally anything else. It'd be putting a lot in jeapordy if they weren't delivered as promised but yhrtr wasn't anyone else to...
You again looked between the pots and pony.
..No. This was a bad idea. It was almost dark. Creatures lurked in the dark. You could be the next one to be snatched away never to be seen again! ...but then again this WAS a lot of money. And you'd be in town surrounded by people who could help if you were in danger. If you hurried maybe you'd even get home before the moon was fully out..Your mind heavily weighed the options as you already made for the pots and struggled to lift the first heavy one into your arms and half waddled from the weight out the door and over to the cart, struggling to lift it high enough to place it in the back. The pony briefly looked up at the jostling of the cart but quickly lost interest. One by one all six were placed in the back, and the shop closed. The only movements the pony made was walking where hands pulled it after the reigns were untied from the post.
"Come on. We're gonna go on a little adventure. Ok? It's only going to be twenty minutes tops."
Your choice had been made. Convincing yourself that this would only be a quick visit. Ordinary and nothing would happen.
Oh how naive you were.
The wheels on the cart squeaked and rattled from the weight of the pots. The hooves of the horse clip clipped noisily echoing down the dark streets- Alright. They weren't that noisy or loud but with the quietness of the practically deserted streets devoid of human life. Every small noise felt like it was as loud as a thunder clap. Maybe it was just the paranoia and fear of the dark that got you thinking this way but you couldn't help it. The sun had completely set within a few minutes of you walking down the dirt roads, pulling the horse along slowly to avoid jostling the pots in the back in case you hit a pothole. Leaving you encased in darkness. Everyone had slowly made their way into the safety of the dark homes hidden away until the next morning. Like you should be doing, and you were starting to regret your choice but it was too late now.
The shadows danced as moonlight shown down along the dark homes you passed. Dancing with the stars and laughing in glee with the darkness on the ground as the moon and stars above shined down watching their sinister dances as an audience would a beautiful ballet. It was very pretty in a way but your mind only focused on high alert with the possible dangers within the shadows. Every alleyway felt like a hiding place for a monster. Every shadow a trap. And the light not much of a beacon of hope. A shudder ran down your spine with your only companion being a horse that could care less about anything around it. Yeah. What a great way to spend your night. However luck seemed to be on your side. You knew exactly where you had to go. The very last house on the far right side of town. All you had to do was drop them off and then head home. Perfect. Now only if you could hurry up a bit faster. Home after home passed. All completely dark or have one last light on in the window that would soon be out. Looked more friendly in the daylight. The cart and it's cargo walked past silently like the lone figure in the town slowly but surely a small opening at the end gave way and a house farther away from the rest of the others could be seen.
You've never been here before but it must've been the right place. A lone house like the others in town was nestled about twenty feet away from the others. A few feet away from the home was a rather large barn and next to that was a large smokehouse. Ah right. Akira's family was made of mostly fishermen. So it made sense to have a smokehouse and a large barn for storage. The home was already very dark as you slowly approached making it look creepy and sent a shudder through your body. You Willed yourself to approach the empty home pulling the horse with you until you stopped just a few yards away from the door. Looking at the home, it was entirely pitch black on the inside and completely silent. Hesitantly you left the cart giving the horse a few pats on its neck.
Slow steps brought your form to the front door where you stared at it for a long moment before with a inhale you reached out to loudly but gently knock on the door. The knocks creepily echoed throughout the dark home but it was surely loud enough for anyone to hear.
"Hello? Mrs. Henya!," you called out gently wincing at how much louder your voice was in the silence. "Special delivery!"
No one answered. Not surprising since Akira's family was supposed to be out of town for a funeral but wasn't his aunt still supposed to be home? You slowly found yourself drawn to a nearby window where you cupped your eyes to peek in. It might've been wrong but you wanted to see if anyone else was home. In the darkness you saw the typical living room. A giant rug, fireplace, a few paintings on the walls, and a table with a vase in the left corner but no living person. The place was empty, and dark without any lights or fire in the fireplace. Looked deserted. Either no one was home or Mrs. Henya was ignoring you or was a very deep sleeper. Well..Niko was going to just leave the plants here for her anyways right? You'd just leave them somewhere easy to find. But just in case- You went back to Knock just a little louder on the door.
"I'm just going to leave the pots outside! Ok?!"
You of course never got an answer from the most likely empty home, but you figured it was best to let it be known that the delivery was made just in case. F/c eyes scanned around the dark area squinting with the limited light. You supposed you could just leave them right here by the house but they'd be right in the walk way. ...You decided the best place to leave them was a few feet away from the door off to the side to avoid anyone tripping over them. All you had to do was to just place the pots on the ground and leave. Easy. The hard part would only be to take the pots out of said cart. With a sigh, you approached the cart again reaching inside and lifting out the first pot with some difficulty. The pot was heavy on your arms, making you curse Niko for not doing this himself and eventually somehow managing to pull it out, nearly dropping it, and half struggled to get it the few feet over to plop it down with the grass.
One down. Five more to go.
With a sigh your hands rubbed your sore back before you repeated the process again a second time. In the struggle of removing the third from the back you first heard it. A loud sound that shook you to the core-
"AAAAHHH!!"
It made the horse jostle and move back hitting your chest hard enough with the cart to make you let go of the pot. A loud THUD sound echoed throughout the night from the heavy pot being dropped back into the wagon. The wailing sounds carried along the air dying out as quickly as it came. Leaving behind nothing but a spooked pony and a pair of f/c looking up at the sky.
....What. Was. THAT?!
SNORT!! The horse stepped a little moving the cart backwards until you grabbed it quickly.
"D-Don't do that! I still have a job to do! B-B-Besides that's just the w-wind. O-Or a bobcat."
It was a failed attempt to assure yourself. Wind. It was just the wind and your paranoia. Third pot was taken out. Just three more. Another wail desperately clawed the wind. Just your imagination. Fourth pot out and placed out. Another wail- JUST THE WIND!! Fifth pot out . Silence. Oooook? Last pot- You struggled to get it out tired from the last five, but somehow managed to get it out and onto the ground with the others. Your body was exhausted. Her body collapsed to the ground back resting again the wheel of the cart panting and catching your breath. There. It was done. You didn't have to worry about anything except how sore you'd be tomorrow.
"S-See? N-Nothing happened," you spoke out to no one in particular.
Of course no one answered back and certainly not the horse. The animal did nothing as the woman pulled herself from the ground like a fly in a glue trap. Rubbing her sore body all over with one hand while reaching out the other to pat it's neck before taking it's reigns. Time to go home and get some rest. You coaxed the pony forward again slowly walking on sore feet back towards the town and passing by the large barn on the way-
"AAAAAAHHHHHH HAHAHAAAAAAA!!!!!"
The horse reared up nearly pulling you forward with it, but luckily your dead weight and sudden tight grip on the reigns kept it from running off. You froze solid. Body freezing up like solid ice as a loud wail echoed throughout the air and this time-
And it didn't stop.
Wailing echoed out in the air and was followed by sounds of louder more sorrowful screams. You stared silently not really processing the noise filtering through for a long while. Until slowly, slowly. Your head slowly turned up to the big barn. It's shadow falling over you. That sounded like...
Crying???
Sobs. Loud and heavy. Echoed out from inside the barn. You stood there dumbfounded and numbly processing the realization until another one hit you. That..
That sounded like a woman.
The thought stunned you. Why would there be a woman crying in the Henya's barn? Was someone hurt? Did they need help? Should you go get help? A bad feeling settled in your guts. Something WAS wrong here. And you didn't like it. You should leave it alone. It wasn't your business. This wasn't your problem. You shouldn't involve yourself..But what if someone WAS hurt? They could be in danger. They could die. What if by the time you got help it was too late?
You should leave
Hands found themselves of the door handles leading into the barn. "H-Hello? Mrs. Henya!?" No one answered. You gently pulled the door only to be surprised when you met resistance. "... It's Locked?" You rattled the door harder and then noticed the giant lock and thick chains wrapped around the handles from their rattling noise.
Why was the barn locked with chains thick enough to hold a grown bull?
You let go of the door and briefly pressed your head to the door. The crying was still present. Was someone locked up in there? That thought startled you. Why would someone be locked up inside the barn? This was only more confusing than scary now. But if someone still needed help then you should at least make sure they were ok. Right? F/c eyes spotted a window just on the other side of the door. Wouldn't hurt to just look would it? Slowly you approached the glass bracing yourself for the worst in case you'd see something awful. You poked your head into the window seeing your reflection in the moonlight, before cupping your face against the glass and straining to look in. There was something that got your brows raising but it wasn't someone hurt or dying on the ground. The dark barn was full of typical things. Hay piked against the far right wall. A couple farming tools lining another wall. A few buckets and other random objects randomly tossed across the floor. Nothing really out of the ordinary for a barn.
Except for the giant curtain dangling from the rafters effectively blocking the back of the barn from sight.
...Why was that there? That didn't make any sense. The 'curtains' looked like a bad mesh of dirty old tarps and fish nets clumped together nailed from the rafters halfhazardly. Now that wasn't typical for a barn. What was it blocking?....F/c eyes traveled down to the edge of the window. It was one of those giant sideways sliding ones. It was big enough for you to climb through if it opened. ...This was a bad idea. You shouldn't do this. But-
Hands slowly grabbed the window and tugged, and to your surprise it slid open without resistance. It opened a little.. Before you slowly slid it all the way open wide enough for you to lift your leg up and push it quietly through the frame before grabbing the side and quietly pulling the rest of the way in. You quietly swung your other leg in to sit on the windowsill before sliding off. Your feet landed on the dirt floor with a soft thud. Not that anyone seemed to notice.
The crying continued.
It was still present. And now that you were in the barn, you could hear it much, much more clearly. Sobbing. Hard sobbing and crying coming from the back of the barn. That... wasn't the wind. Or a bobcat. It sounded like a young woman. Slowly your feet softly approached the curtain.
"I-I..*GGGAAAASSSPPP* I w-want to go h-hooooooome!!! AAAAHHH!!"
You jumped startled at the sudden voice. Now THAT really sounded like a young woman. You almost jumped again as a second voice groaned out admist the crying and ugly sobs.
"Will. You. Give it a dam rest already?!," a second voice shouted out. This one sounded like another woman but it sounded different from the other still sobbing woman. "That's all you've been doing for days on end!! You don't think the rest of us want to get out of this hellhole?!"
"H-Hey. Calm down. Ok?" Another new voice??? This one sounded different than the first two. So..three women?! You blinked confused before slowly approaching. "Fighting... isn't going to make a-any of this better."
"It's easy for you to say!! Maybe you can stand being stuck for days on end on a tiny space with her crying your ears off but I've had it!!! I can't stand it anymore than I can stand this stupid, stupid dam tub!!"
"AAAHH- S-STOP IT!! Y-Y-YOU'RE BEING MEEEAAANNN!!"
"IM BEING MEAN!? OH I'LL SHOW YOU MEAN!!"
Your hands gently grabbed the makeshift curtains and pulled back-
"Makio, stop-!!"
S P L A S H!!!
You weren't sure what happened. One moment you were pushing yourself in- And then a squeal left your throat as at least three barrels worth of water came raining down on you. The weight of the water as well as your surprise made you fall to the ground face first. A cross between a SPLAT sound, a THUD sound, and a massive pile of water being spilt sounded out through the barn as you felt to the ground...And silence resumed.
COUGH COUGH?!?!
You pushed yourself off of the floor coughing and spitting out the vile taste of dirty water from your mouth as you spit and sputtered. Soaked. In just one second your body was ninety none percent soaked through your dress as if you had jumped into a lake. Coughing and spitting out water your hands reached out to push away the long hair over your face. Narrowed eyes glaring at whoever was responsible for this..Only to once again pause. You did see someone. You.
No. A reflection of you.
A reflection of your soggy poor self was barely illuminated in the dark by the limited moonlight in the dark. It was..A block of dirty glass?? Upon further inspection you saw it wasn't dirt ON the glass but dirty water BEHIND the glass. It was a large...Box of dirty water? You blinked staring at it longer before hearing a sniffle sound and snapping your head up.
Three pairs of eyes stared back down at you.
There. Was. Three. Women. Staring at you from the inside of the...glass box full of dirty water?? You could only stare in shock. The faces also stared back at you in shock. Wha-..That.. Wasn't Mrs. Henya. The three faces staring at you were all strikingly beautiful young women around your age. The first one had dark blue eyes and long black hair that went past her shoulders, and judging by redness on her face you guessed she was the one crying. The second one was a bit stranger. She also had black hair but shorter pulled back into a ponytail. But what made her look so strange was the long orange-yellow bangs framing her face and orangish eyes. The third one like the first two also had black hair she wore tied back in a longer ponytail. Only her eyes her a pretty pink color. They stared down at you. You stared up at them. Silence other than the blue eyed ones sniffles filled the space.
....You. Blinked. "...Who are you?!"
"Us?," the orange eyed one scowled now pointing a wet hand out of the strange box accusingly at you. "Who the hell are you?!"
"I asked you first!"
"Well we're not answering until you answer first!"
"I'm a florist!"
The three women blinked at you before staring at one another. "What's a florist?"
"I sell flowers!" You slowly stood up now shaking your hands out annoyed before pushing your hair back. They looked back to you. "How do you not know what a florist is? And what's the big idea soaking me?!"
This was the thanks you get for trying to be a good person?! Last time you ever got nosey. You should've stuck to your first thought and minded your own business!
"Flowers??..Why would a flower seller be here?! Are you lying?! I know she's lying-"
"I was delivering rose bushes!", you shouted at the other scowling woman now annoyed.
"In the middle of the night? A likely story!"
"I had to make a late delivery because the man who was supposed to deliver them never showed up! And who are you to judge!?"
"Who delivers flowers in the middle of the night?!"
"It literally JUST turned dark! And I'm not the weird one here!" You gestured to the giant..Tank?? Thing?? "I'm not the people deciding to bathe in disgusting water inside a barn! Who the hell does THAT!? That's not normal!"
It was then Ms. Orange Eyes lost her scowl and again all three looked surprised at you. "Wait..so you-" ..Her hand raised looking you up and down. "You're not- ..I mean you're-..You aren't involved in this?"
"Why would I be involved with people who decide to skinnydip in disgusting water?!" You angrily grabbed your dress and wrung it out making water droplets spray to the dirty ground as they again looked at one another.
"Then..what are you doing here?"
"I told you! I'm making a delivery! I heard someone crying and apparently me being a good person means I'm going to be soaked to the bone!" You again scowled at them. "So thanks for that! I was feeling a little dehydrated actually!" You sarcastic spat. Maybe it was a bit mean but you were the one attacked by water here!
Ms. Blue Eyes And Sniffles looked at Ms. Orange Eyes and both looked unsure of what to do. However the third one- "I apologize for that on all of our behalves." She spoke gaining your attention. "We didn't know we'd be having a visitor."
"...Hmph. Clearly. Well since I know no one's dying, I'm gonna leave now and leave you three to.. Whatever it is you're doing."
"WAIT!!" You jumped at the loud wail. Water sloshing off the side of the tank thing. You hadn't even taken half a step away before Ms. Blue Eyes yelled. "YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE!!"
"Uh..YES. I can actually. I shouldn't even be in here." You paused. ..You didn't know these three. But they weren't from your town. You knew that. "You three shouldn't be here either. If I were you, I'd leave before the Henyas come back."
"That.. would be preferable," Ms. Pink Eyes spoke but shook her head sadly, "Unfortunately that's not an option for us."
You stared at her, then at the other two, then at the tank thing. "...Do you need clothing? I'm sure I can find some towels or something around here."
"No. Not that. We're not able to get out of this tank."
So it was a tank? Again why would they stay in something so filthy? "What do you mean you can't get out? The tanks just a few feet taller than me. It's not that big a fall, even if you sleep and fall it would hardly be fatal...What are you doing in there anyways? It looks like the water hasn't been changed in weeks! It's GROSS!" You stressed with a grimace of disgust.
Ms. Pink Eyes looked a bit hesitant- "Whelp. That settles it then." The one with orange bangs slumped against the side holding her head in a hand. "She literally has no idea about us. I don't know if that's a good or bad thing."
"A GOOD THING OBVIOUSLY!!," Ms. Blue Eyes shrieked. "THAT MEANS SHE'S NOT WITH THOSE OTHER BAD GUYS!!"
You looked at her. "Bad guys?? What are you talking about now?"
"WE-"
A smack sound went off as the other covered the loud one's mouth. "Don't tell her you loudmouth!! We don't even know if we can even trust her! How do we know that she's not trucking us? Or even worse than they are?!"
"Do we really have a choice?" Both were stopped by Ms. Pink Eyes again and just stopped.. eventually she looked back to you. "We were brought here three.. maybe four weeks ago. Not by choice either. You can say we're being held prisoner."
"Say? We ARE being held prisoner!"
Prisoner?! They were being held hostage!? Good gods what did you even walk into?! "Hostage?!..Wait." You pointed a suspicious look at them. "If you were really being held hostage, how come you haven't tried escaping yet? The door's locked but the window isn't. You three could've just walked on out that way."
Again the three exchanged looks again. Before silent Ms. Pink Eyes grabbed hold of the edge of the tank and pushed herself up and lifting her body from the water. You saw she was wearing a pink top soaked from the water but you fell silent as something else was lifted up from the water as well. Something large, reddish pink in color, and covered in scales. If anyone saw it, they'd just assume it was part of a giant fish.
However the top wasn't connected to any fish. IT WAS FREAKING CONNECTED TO THE WAIST OF THE WOMAN!!
You looked on in shock and awe at where pale soft skin transitioned into red scales before it disappeared sinking back into the murky water. Again silence resumed and you stared at the three of them in shock and sudden horror.
"Y-Y-You're not human.." You stepped back on instinct and in horror. "You're not human!!" You shouldn't be here! Danger! Creatures! Unsafe! Get away! "I- ..I c-cant stay here! I'm sorry but I need to leave!"
"WAIT!! COME BACK!!"
You panicked nearly slipping on the wet ground to get away. Tangled curtains and nets rushed and pushed away like arms trying to ensnare your body as you ran away from the inhuman creatures behind you. Footfalls echoing throughout the silent barn. Back towards the open window. Your escape route. Your sanctuary outside! You had just made it to the window throwing up a leg onto the windowsill and grabbing the frame-
T H U D-!!
What sounded like a giant sack of potatoes being dropped into the ground hard had echoed throughout the barn followed by the sounds of sloshing and splashing water! Making you jump and snap your head around back to the curta-
"SUMA!!" "YOU CLUMSY CRAB!! ARE YOU OK?!"
"AAAAAHH HAHAHAAAAAA!!!"
Loud sobs and crying filled the air once again as you just stood there... before proceeding to start climbing again-
"I-I-It's no- not FFFFAAAAIIIRRR!! I D-DONT WANT TO BE SO- SOLD TO A CARNIVAL!! W-WHY CAN'T WE JU-JUST G-GO HOOOOMMMEEE!?" The ugly crying and wails started up once more. "I D-DONT WANT TO LOSE YOU G-GUUUUYYYS!!! WWAAAAHHH!!!"
You stopped... slowly looking back from your place sitting on the window.
"Suma, calm down. W-We're going to be alright-"
"WILL YOU STOP PRETENDING EVERYTHING'S OK!? For once she's right! Nothing about this is ok! We're going to be stuck here for the rest of our lives unless they decide to kill us for some mounted trophy on the wall! Face it! We're never going to get out of here! It's-.... It's hopeless. We're hopeless."
You looked outside. The pony and cart was still there waiting for you to take it home. Safe. Warm home. Where you never had to worry about trapped mermaids which was truly none of your business....F/c eyes slowly looked back to the cries...
"Dam foul fish smelling beasts!"
Old hands held up a lantern shaking with old age. One hand reached out with a rusted key to insert into the lock turning until it clicked. Noisily a lock thudded to the ground as chains rattled from their place to join it on the soft dirt. The lantern lit up the way as the old grizzled woman grabbed the doorknob before looking behind her with narrowed eyes into the darkness. No one was out this time of night. Good. Quietly. The door creaked open allowing the old woman to hobble quietly inside.
"Alright you stupid fish smelling water bugs! I got your feeding!"
Silence answered her as she hobbled towards the back of the barn. The fish in her hands was dirty and old but she didn't care. They ate worse in the ocean.
"Silent huh? Hmph. It's about time you shut the hell up! The constant shrieking is driving me mad!"
The curtains were pulled back and the lantern shined upon the still tank. Filthy from weeks of neglect. With a toss, she threw the single fish into the top of the tank. It floated up onto the surface before sinking down into the murky water. A weak kick given to the glass.
"Wake up and eat it! Try not to cry about how hungry you are this time or else you'll go the rest of the week hungry!"
Nothing answered not that the grizzled old woman cared leaving. The old fish uselessly sinking to the bottom of the tank completely empty except for dirty water and a single old fish-
SPLASH!!
You stood still completely soaked and hand on a lever as you watched the giant pool like tub in the center of your family's bathhouse start to fill up from the opening allowing water to quickly rush into the tub until it was partially full. You stopped then and went back to slip out the back door. The night was still silent without anyone lurking around in the dark minus a horse and a cart connecting to it's back hidden in the shadows of your house. You carefully looked around, spotted no one, and then sighed.
"Alright. Coast is clear."
... Slowly three heads popped up from the back of the cart. Thank goodness for the dark cloaking their bodies. The cart was too small to fully hide their tails. You couldn't believe this was happening! You literally kidnapped already kidnapped mermaids! They were dangerous! You were helping nonhuman creatures and....Sigh. It was only temporary. You'd be rid of them soon enough. But for now, you'd help them. Firstly by taking a bath. They were dirty and spelt of old moldy clothes. They seemed on edge looking around as you approached them.
"This isn't the beach," Orange commented annoyed.
You decided to nickname them by the colors of their eyes in your mind for now. "Because the beach is literally a months travel by foot, and two weeks travel by horse. I need time to think of what to do, and I'm certainly not going to be traveling soaking wet in the middle of the night."
You held out your arms to Blue. She had thankfully stopped crying after Orange hissed at her that they'd be caught again if she didn't shut up. Orange's words not yours. She seemed to get the drill and reached out to wrap her arms around your shoulders as you quietly pulled her long body out of the cart and shifted her in your arms until you were able to carry her still sniffling form into the back door and gently heaved her into the giant tub. This repeated a second time with pink. And again with Orange, although Orange was a little more reluctant than her friends. It was harder dragging them through the window honestly. Your body was REALLY going to be sore in the morning and there was still evidence you had to get rid of. You would NOT allow anyone to know that you harboured these creatures.
You eventually semi dropped Orange into the large tub with the other two. "There. It's not as deep as the tank but it is wider. That should give you three more room at least."
Blue was already happily pushing her head underwater and blowing bubbles in the completely clean water as Pink smiled at you. "Thank you. You don't know how much we appreciate it."
"Well...If I was in your situation, I'd want some help too. But I'm going to need you three to do something." Pink and Orange blinked as you walked away to a nearby shelf, and proceeded to grab a few bottles and a scrub brush. Returning to the three mermaids and just plopping them on the side of the pool. "Here. It's soap. No offense but you three reek of mold and old dirt. Wash yourselves and I'll replace the water again when you're done." They were in pretty bad shape from the dirty water, especially their hair. You paused looking at them again. "...Also give me your clothes. They're completely filthy. I can let you borrow some of my dresses until I get them clean. You..do know what soap is right?"
"We can handle it from here," Pink confirmed already grabbing a bottle of shampoo and handing it to Orange who curiously opened it up to smell the sweet flower scent. "I'll call you when we're finished but don't you want to dry off?"
"I have a small bathroom in the guestroom. I'll use that and give you three some privacy. Just..let me know when you're finished. And try not to be loud and wake up anyone. I have to go take care of a few things."
Orange looked up at you. "What things?"
"I have to dry the wagon and then go tie the horse back on its post. Otherwise people will know I used it and get suspicious, and I don't feel like having an angry mob after me on top of getting soaked and sore."
#Ocean Deep#uzuren#tengen x wives#tengen x y/n#tengen x rengoku#tengen x reader#tengen uzui#uzui tengen#tengen x you#tengen x wives x reader#rengoku senjuro#rengoku kyojuro#rengoku kyoujurou#senjuro rengoku#rengoku x reader#rengoku kyōjurō#demon slayer rengoku#kyojuro rengoku#kny kyojuro#kyojuro x y/n#kyojuro x reader#rengoku#kny rengoku#kyojuro x you#makio uzui#makio x reader#kny makio#suma x reader#suma uzui#hinatsuru uzui
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pain: Namor x reader
When Namor's pain becomes too much for you, you pass out
Warnings: swearing, injuries, passing out.
-----
When you were ten years old your best friend had fallen over and cut their knee at school. It was bad. A teacher had run over to help while students watched on, but you? You had kneeled over in pain holding back the tears that threatened to spill. Why were you feeling pain in the exact spot they were, and why wouldn't it stop?
That day you got home you told your parents what happened. The color drained from their faces, and they exchanged looks. Your dad had kneeled in front of you, and sighed.
"We need to tell you something."
They had gone onto explain how you have an ability. You are able to feel people's pain, though only certain people such as those you are close with, or are thinking about. You can also feel it where they are hurting, that's why you could feel it in your knee.
It was hard to process at first but as you got older you got used to it.
-----
It has been half an hour since K'uk'ulkan had left to deal with the Wakandan's. You pace the room praying that he will return to you soon, that some sort of agreement will occur, and this will all be over.
When he had told you about his plan, you were- are- hesitant about it. The Wakandan's aren't dumb, they most likely have a plan already made, and that scares you.
What you would do to help K'uk'ulkan but since you aren't in the shape to help out, as a result of being knocked when that woman, Nakia, had taken the black panther and the scientist, you stay.
Thankfully you can tell he hasn't been hurt as much as you would have thought, though it still hurts to feel that he is in pain. With the idea to go to the mural room and focus your mind on that instead, you turn and walk out the door.
-
The Black Panther is trapped by the spear stabbing through her abdomen. Shaky hands move to the spear, but she doesn't do anything yet. It's too painful. She looks forward, her eyes falling on Namor again; he's stumbling towards the water in desperate need of it.
Shuri lets out a shaky breath, grounding herself. Closing her eyes she thinks back to that conversation she'd had with her cousin. How he had smirked, circled her, and how she had stared at him with such a glare that made the room stop.
"So..." he begins . "Are you gonna be noble like your brother?"
Shuri looks away not wanting to even stare him- Kilmonger- in the eyes. He continues:
"Or take care of business." he approached. "Like me?"
Shuri finds herself clenching her fist in anger. She loves her brother dearly but he's gone, like her mother, like everyone she has ever loved. They are gone. She looks at him again, but this time? This time he could see that look in her eyes, the one he used to similarly hold.
"I'm not my brother.", she shook her head, fighting back the anger more. "Namor will beg for mercy, as I stand and watch as he dies."
Shuri snaps out of it, adrenaline taking over. She sucks in a sharp breath and proceeds to snap of the end, sliding her body off the spear, letting it fall to the sand. Then she scoffs and runs, flipping, and landing in front of Namor.
Too out of it he brings his fists up as defense, muttering the words "imperius rex." Shuri simply flicks on her helmet so quickly "Wakanda forever." and he can barely register when she sets off an explosive, burning Namor up, sending him falling to the ground.
-
A burning sensation covers your body sending you falling to your knees in pain. It burns everywhere and the pain is indescribable. What's happening? Light-headed you close your eyes shut to try and help subside the pain.
Then...it just stops, but you can barely focus and you remain on your hands for the time being.
"Shit."
He's alright, though. He isn't dead, which doesn't hurt less knowing how hurt he was, but it is a relief to know that he's still alive. Whatever happened must have been planned by the Wakandan's, but only one person would be able to do this. Your guess is the black panther, in revenge of him killing her mother.
The pain remains but you force yourself up onto your feet to stand up straight, trying to make sense of what happened- "what the hell." stopping, you bring a hand to your head, trying to fight back the lightheadedness that lingers.
Then you turn around, deciding to go and sit and maybe that will help. Slowly you start walking while the pain still remains...and then you stop in place. Standing still you close your eyes in hopes it will help, but rather than the pain disappearing, white floods your vision.
It's still hard to make sense of anything, hard to do anything. Like before your knees hit the ground, but instead of being able to stand up, you pass out on the floor.
----
"I'm back in yakunaj (my love)."
Sporting 3 large scratches and a sliced off ankle wing, K'uk'ulkan enters the room. He had searched the other rooms but you weren't there, so his best bet was to search in the mural room.
No, that's weird though, you're not answering.
"(y/n)...?" Namor's voice softens slightly, his head moving to the right. Nothing. Then he looks to the left...his heart stops, and he limps over to you. Thankfully you're already waking but it still doesn't hide the fact that you were just passed out.
"(y/n)..."
Muttering your name, his eyes search yours. You can see him but it doesn't register in your mind. Instinctively you mutter 'K'uk'ulkan?' but only because he's the last person who was on your mind, and the first person to come to mind. Even if your mind is pretty foggy at the moment.
"Teene', táan in waye (It's me, i'm here). Are you hurt?"
Able to make out the last part of the sentence you mutter a 'no' so he sighs in relief. Good. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, wrapping his arms around you, picking you up so carefully in case you have been hurt.
Then he starts to limp towards the bedroom to lay you down. In and out of consciousness you try and focus on him, hoping that you'll be able to stay awake.
"It's okay."
Despite trying to fight against the sleep you end up losing and falling asleep in his arms.
----
Namor stays by your side until you wake again. You wake four days later. Unlike K’uk’ulkan you don't have a healing factor, you're fully human, so while he was hurt, he was still able to heal. You have to wait for however long for your body to heal itself.
He hasn't slept, or eaten, despite his cousin's concerns. He only stays by your side and prays that you will wake up soon enough. He talks to you and lets you know how sorry he is. He tells you about the agreement, and he tells you that when you wake he will be there to help you get through your healing process.
Day four
Every day is the same. He stays by your side and speaks to you, but you don't wake up. You remain in your sleep, but it's not a coma. You remain asleep...until that day. That day is different and when you open your eyes, you realize.
The bright light blinds you. Out of habit you move to shield your eye but the sudden movement earns a groan from you and you drop your hand. Groaning in annoyance you decide on keeping your eyes closed for the time-being. You hear shuffling sounds, and then when you feel something in your other hand, it seems to bring your eyes open again.
This person is shielding the light with their body. It's K'uk'ulkan, who’s now sitting down next to you, and while his eyes usually hold light, they hold tiredness. He’s drained, it's clear to you that he hasn't had a good night's sleep for days and the dark circles underneath his eyes add to that.
"(y/n)..."
K'uk'ulkan sighs in relief hearing you speak. Dropping his head for a moment, he breathes another sigh of relief.
"Níib óolal (thank you)." he mutters. "Níib óolal"
He had prayed for you countless times. There had to be someone out there who could help. He hadn't given up and now you're awake and it worked. He lifts his head to look at you, a weak smile making it's way to his lips.
"In wojel volverías tin wiknal (I knew you would come back to me)."
Pressing a kiss to your hand, he then squeezes it.
"Because of you, K'uk'ulkan."
You remember everything he had said to you. From talking about the agreement between his world and the surface world. From him waiting for you this whole time and not giving up hope. From the quiet cries. He'd just been there.
"You're the reason I woke up. Thank you." and oh how he wishes this was true, but it was all you. He may have gotten help, but it was you who was strong enough to wake up.
With a "Thank you, but that was all you." he moves on to asking you what he had been meaning to.
"How did this happen?"
oh
You remember that he still doesn't know. You had heard him talk about that. Now you know you have to tell him but at the same time you don't want him blaming himself for something far from his fault.
"You know how I said I could feel people's pain, but not everyone, only certain people, or if I’m thinking about someone?”
He nods, so you continue.
"When you had been hurt, I had felt it." it doesn't hurt anymore but it still feels like it, if that makes sense. "...and I think because the pain was too much, I passed out."
And, now, it all makes sense.
"I'm sorry."
Though he doesn't have anything to be sorry about. You wish he would see that.
"...it wasn't your fault."
He furrows his eyebrows, wanting nothing more than to apologize for not being there for you and for this even happening, but when you bring a hand to the side of his face and make him look at you. With those eyes that hold so much love and kindness, care. He can’t help but soften once again.
"It wasn't your fault."
"Thank you in yakunaj. U agradezco (I appreciate that)." and when he leans forward pressing his cheek to yours, nuzzling you, you sigh softly.
"And I appreciate you." you smile softly, taking in this moment with your beloved. When you part you're still smiling: K'uk'ulkan's eyes soften and he stares at you...he just stares at you because for the first time in four days he can actually look into your eyes. "I love you, K'uk'ulkan."
"I love you too." more than anything. He brings your hand to his heart and keeps it there.
Smiling from ear to ear, you lower your head. The way he makes you feel is indescribable. You're beyond happy it was him that you woke up to because as much as you love Namora and Attuma, and the other people you consider close, K’uk’ulkan means the most to you and you love him the most out of anyone.
"...más u mixba'al (more than anything).”
Namor presses a kiss to your head again, smiling, and when you look at him again, you can’t help but smile either.
285 notes
·
View notes
Note
I would do a lot for a fic about the emotional complexities of the ghouls inheriting previous ghouls' instruments. Dew not being big enough to wield the previous guitar, Mist glaring at anyone suggesting she should change the bass. Mountain being able to express himself with adding to the drums. Cirrus staring at Zephyr's set-up in awe and wanting to be like him.
-@ghouletteanon
that's such a good one, oh my god. I didn't make it a full fic, but four snippets for each ghoul, the ones you mentioned. sorry I didn't write it for every ghoul, tho. made it angsty
Ifrit -> Dewdrop
It was so wrong.
Dewdrop couldn't look at it.
It was pretty, yeah, the most gorgeous guitar he's ever seen, actually, and yet it made him want to throw up.
The Fantomen was too big for him, too heavy. There was no way he would be comfortable during the tour, his back and shoulders would kill him. What would kill him more, though, was the fact where that guitar come from, whose it used to be.
Sure, there was nearly ten of these guitars to be taken on tour, but this one, this specific one, was his. It was Ifrit's, his personal one that was kept in his room. The rest was also his, technically, he played each, but this one was something more.
Ifrit was gone just like Dewdrop's water, and all that was left was the Satan forsaken guitar.
But it was fine, the discomfort of playing it. He made his choice, a wrong one, and sore shoulders would be nothing compared to what he deserved as a punishment, he told himself.
He slung the guitar over his shoulder and started playing, not intending to stop until the pure, shiny white lacquer would be stained red.
Water -> Mist
She knew she didn't have to use it. She didn't even like Precision too much, it's shape. Water told her it was fine, that she could pick another one for herself. She didn't want to.
Omega hasn't touched any of the basses once, yet she tied it all to him. She wouldn't play bass in Ghost if Water wouldn't end up on rhythm. Water wouldn't end up on rhythm if Omega wasn't gone.
She missed him, she really did.
She picked up the black and white Fender Precision Jazz, and turned it in here hands, watching it over. It was temporary, she told herself.
Like they all were.
Ivy -> Mountain
It was a simple setup, at the beginning, one inherited from Ivy and Earth before him. Few basic drums and cymbals, nothing special. The drums were pretty, yeah, and the whole kit was of an incredible quality. But it was too... hollow.
His tall frame would be all but on full display. He would be seen.
Too much.
He keeps adding to it, some bigger drums in the front, on the floor more cymbals all around. He kept telling everyone it was all to increase the quality of his performance, to make it all sound better, to be better.
It was to hide.
Zephyr -> Cirrus
She admired Zephyr, she had so much respect for them. Not only musically related, but the fact how talented and passionate they were was the main reason. She wanted to be like them, so much, she prayed for it.
Cirrus didn't have much time with them, but the few times she witnessed them playing from up close she nearly cried.
She did cry, after some time, when it was time for her to pick her gear for the tour. She didn't want to change anything, but adjustments had to be made considering there would be two air ghouls, or rather ghoulettes, now. She let Cumulus pick all the setup. All but one thing.
The keytar.
She stayed with Zephyr's. The exact one they used, and every time she walked down from her and Cumulus' platform to play "Mummy Dust" solo, she saw the older ghoul's smile and a proud nod. The same one she received when they taught her said solo, even before any of them knew she would end up on stage.
It was the last memory she had of them.
She no longer prayed to be exactly like Zephyr.
76 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi Dani! I love Talon's End so much! I love the writing and Hawk and Shea and the Siblings and Isla and Erich and not so much mom, but I still love her and it's amazing.
Question: How would you describe the usual human clothing of the region? I'm trying to draw my MC (helps with getting to know the character) and I'm not sure of what clothing she'd wear.
Thank you and take care! <3
That's a super good question! I got a little carried away, but hopefully this is at least kind of helpful!
TL;DR: Women mostly wear dresses; men mostly wear trousers. Regardless of gender, clothes tend to be light and loose in style without a lot of ornamentation. Currently though, elegant, ornamental hairstyles are in, and many people are growing their hair out to take advantage of that. Hair length isn't particularly culturally dictated or gendered. Clothing colors usually reflect the seasons' colors in nature, but only members of high society (like MC's family) are really expected to have whole ensembles of the "proper" colors. For those curious, robes aren't at all common due to their association with mages.
Details under the cut!
The area where MC and their family live is relatively diverse, so fashion there has been influenced by a variety of different cultures. Maressea is on the warmer side of temperate with a fair amount of precipitation, so during warm weather, clothes tend to be light and not have too many layers--but coats, jackets, and capes to ward off the rain are common. Even when it's warm, sleeves, trousers, and skirts are usually long, but they tend to be more loose and flowing. During the winter, heavier fabrics are a must, but the styles are relatively similar to warm-weather clothes. Colors are an important part of styling, though. The colors of an ensemble should generally match the colors seen in nature during a given season. This is obviously pretty expensive and, therefore, a thing people will be judged by if they're considered a member of Society. But in situations where no one could reasonably afford multiple dyed garments for every season, people still often use seasonal colors for ribbons, handkerchiefs, and other small items. Even among the nobility, garment patterns and shapes are often relatively simple since the mundane aspects of fabric arts were only revived in the last century. Those who had the knowledge to revive things like lace-making and detailed embroidery are highly sought after, and their services quite expensive.
Hats aren't a big thing--unless they're necessitated by weather--since elegant, complex hairstyles are having a moment (the vibe but not necessarily form of fancy wedding updos). Historically, there hasn't been a major tendency toward long or short hair, regardless of gender, but long hair is stylish due to greater options for the aforementioned elegant hairstyles. (Not quite Hawk-length, though!) Hair accessories like ribbons, combs, and gemstones are common based on what a person has available to them.
Women are usually expected to wear dresses, and men are expected to wear trousers. But some avant garde women (including Sabine) have started wearing trousers at informal events (and formal events, if they're feeling extremely spicy). Some men have begun wearing dresses as well, but it hasn't taken off as much just yet. Robes are sometimes worn, but it's very rare since they're associated with being the garb of mages--not the most popular thing these days. So Hawk's gift had the double sin of being a robe AND not being a seasonally appropriate color.
20 notes
·
View notes
Note
You don’t have to write this if you don’t want to, but there’s an idea that has been on my mind lately and I just need to get it out there and share it with someone. Lately I’ve been thinking about a whumpee sitting in the passenger seat of caretaker’s car, being driven home after caretaker picked them up from the bar. Under the influence of alcohol, whumpee starts casually rambling about the fucked up shit that whumper did to them, all of which caretaker was completely unaware of. Whumpee wasn’t normally the type to open up to them. Caretaker is horrified, while whumpee is too drunk to even notice caretaker’s stunned reaction.
CW: References to domestic violence, drug use, derogatory self-talk, Kauri being a Drunk Mess. Takes place early after Kauri starts coming to the safehouse.
"I said, 'Oh my God, look at that face,'" Kauri sings, voice husky and cracking, boneless against the passenger seat. "You look like my next mistake-"
"Annnnnnd we're not listening to this," Jake interrupts, leaning forward to switch from the random dance-pop playlist to his own personal one. Kauri's glimmering smile fades into an overwrought pout in response.
"Boo. You have the worst taste in music."
"I do not. I just don't want to listen to you drunk-sing Taylor Swift, that's all. Not again. Last time you cried."
"Excuse me, Jakob Stanton, that was a private performance and you should be glad I didn't make you pay for the concert of the century." Kauri kicks his dirty Vans up on Jake's clean dash, crossing his legs at the ankles. He drops his right hand down to pull the little lever on the side of his seat, the back falling backwards until he's nearly lying down. "Not my fault I get carried away with emotions."
"Ever tried not doing that?"
"Yeah." Kauri smiles again. Jake pretends not to glance sidelong to watch his eyes move, like he can see the stars right through the roof of Jake's car. There's a hickey on Kauri's neck, bruising in the shape of teeth and tongue. Might be lipstick smudged on an earlobe. Kauri's own mouth seems too red in the dark, yellowed under the occasional streetlight.
It isn't the answer Jake expects. "What?"
"Course I tried. You think I let this pretty face be ruined by all those ugly tears before? It's in my training, you know. No tears unless he wants them, no screams he doesn't demand, nothing left that he didn't pay for. He wants a gorgeous face, not some asshole who feels things and has opinions."
Jake falls quiet. His music seems incongruous now, clashing with Kauri's soft voice. He takes a turn, driving out of downtown where he'd found Kauri giggling outside yet another bar, dancing with a group of people who looked just as wounded as he does.
He isn't as good as Kauri is at knowing, but he thought at least two of them probably had barcodes hidden underneath jewelry and long sleeves, too.
Romantics run away often, it's in Jake's literature. But they struggle once they're out. They don't know how to make a living. They tend to shoplift because no one showed them how to pay, they can't get a job anyway even when they know what to do. They get treated like shit and taken advantage of... and they go back. They're bad at hiding, at blending in. They get caught, or they go back.
"There's a lot in you that nobody made but you." Jake wishes he was better at this. He's still kind of new at it, and Kauri hasn't been coming around that long. He still has some bandages under his shirt, covering the fresh scar on his collarbone.
"Therein, Jakob, lies the problem." Kauri intones the sentence like a professor delivering a lecture. "Mr. Owen hated all those parts, because none of them were in the person I was supposed to be."
Jake tries not to grind his teeth too obviously. Mr. Owen. Fucking asshole.
"I tried not to feel things that I wasn't supposed to. I was great it, too, for a while. Even better at lying once the feelings showed up anyway. But that wasn't enough, because it was a lie and we both knew it. Love is just lying, for us. To ourselves. To the owners. To everyone. We don't really mean it. We don't know how."
Jake licks at his lips. They sit at a stoplight, and he wishes he'd told Nat to get Kauri instead. Or had told Kauri no, figure it out, it's late and Jake doesn't want to be doing this.
But Kauri called, and he came.
It's a bad habit he can't let himself get into, or he'll be who Kauri always calls on nights like this.
He hopes so, anyway.
"We lie." Kauri's voice is a haze, fog rolling in off the bay. Kauri sounds the way someone looks when they're far enough away that every edge has softened. "We manipulate, we steal, we plead and flatter and fuck like rabbits. And there's absolutely nothing underneath."
"Kaur, you know that isn't true-"
"Every time there was," Kauri continues, as if Jake hadn't spoken, "He hurt me, and then he put me back in my box."
The light finally turns green, and Jake presses down on the gas. "Your box?"
"My delivery box. He kept it, set it up against the wall. When I couldn't be empty enough for him, when he remembered it was all just the two of us lying to each other, he would put me back in it. In the dark... all by myself." Kauri blinks rapidly, and Jake sees streetlight gleam, dim and yellow, off the tears escaping the corner of his eye to soak saltwater into his hair, just above his ear. "Can't feel anything. Can't see anything. Can't hear anything. He'd leave me for hours. One time for-... for over a day. Once he even moved it around like he was sending me b-back."
"Holy fuck."
Jake thinks about that.
He thinks about the way Kauri flinches away from small spaces, sleeps outside because the doors don't lock when there aren't any.
"Jesus," He whispers.
Kauri doesn't seem to notice.
"I just got so tired of pretending I didn't feel it when he hit me," Kauri says, holding his hands up, looking at his own palms. The leather bracelet that hides his barcode looks like handcuffs at this angle, in what passes for light at midnight under nothing but tree canopies lining residential streets. "I couldn't keep it up and he couldn't keep remembering I'm not ever going to suddenly become Vincent fucking Shield, even if he killed me. And... and he was gonna kill me sooner or later, right? After the choking started, the..." He touches his collarbone over his shirt. "He was going to, soon. And nobody would care."
Jake swallows, hard. "That's not-"
"I almost didn't even care anymore, either."
There's no way to respond to that.
He just listens.
"I got so tired of being empty. I couldn't lie to him any longer. Couldn't keep lying to me, either. I'm a failure, a broken pet. I wanted to tell the truth. Just the one time, I wanted to tell the truth without being put in the box, Jake. I wanted to say that I could hate him more than I loved him. I wanted to get to hate him at all. But there's... there's a problem with that."
"Is there?"
What the fuck else can he say?
"Yeah." Kauri digs a hand into his pocket. He swallows something before Jake can stop him. Maybe it's just Tylenol to hold off the hangover. Maybe. Probably not. Kauri'd smile swims, uneasy and seeming oddly seasick. "The problem... is that the truth isn't what I want it to be."
"Kauri-"
"I am empty, Jake. I got away from him and there isn't anything in here. They're right. I'm not even a person. Just a face and a cock. Just the cold and the walls and... and the box."
"That's not true-"
"It's okay." Kauri, absurdly, lays a hand on his arm to soothe him. "It's okay. I don't even mean it. I'm just rambling, Jake. None of it means anything. I am so drunk, just ignore me, yeah? Just talking shit, that's all." He suddenly smiles, bright as any star, and jerks his seat back upright. "Hey, can we go to Burger King? I want some fries."
The sudden swerve of mood feels like driving right off a cliff but finding yourself suddenly flying a plane.
"What? It's twelve-thirty in the morning-"
"Drive-thru is open til one. Come on, Jake, please?" Kauri's eyes are absurdly wide, too blue.
Jake groans. "Yeah, fine."
Kauri claps his hands together with glee, half-lunging to grab Jake's mp3 player. "You're my favorite person on earth, Jake. Now, where is the list with the pretty orangey looking background color..."
Kauri keeps his eyes carefully unfocused so he won't read the letters. The guitar starts up for the first song in the list, and Kauri grins. Whatever he swallowed is already starting to work on him, pupils wide, wiping out so much of the gorgeous blue.
This time, Jake doesn't stop him from singing along.
-
@finder-of-rings @endless-whump @arlin-always-writing @thefancydoughnut @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @autophagay @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things
#whump#kauri's poor life choices#writing#bbu#box boy universe#box boy#trauma recovery tw#recovering whumpee#runaway whumpee#escaped whumpee#caretaker and whumpee#erase to control#jake the shelter guy#drug use tw#alcohol tw#drunk whumpee
84 notes
·
View notes
Text
i know naddpod c2 eldermourne isn't nearly as popular as other dnd shows but i am pspspsping my followers with this silly little vignette... the sapphics got me bad im brainrotting so hard its so over for me hahaha anyways please enjoy some soft post canon fiarina
~~
"Psst– hey, Fi, wake up."
Fia rolls over, groaning as she is stirred back into the world of consciousness.
She definitely does not feel rested; she can imagine it's only been a few hours since she was nudged into sleeping by a well-meaning Henry. Mister Henry had really taken to his newfound captain position, and though Fia had rolled her eyes at him when he told her that she needed to put her book down and actually sleep, she makes a mental note to thank him later as she rubs her eyes blearily.
In the dim haze of her darkvision, she sees a pair of bright eyes staring down into her, framed by silver hair that nearly glows in the darkness. Even now, after all of this time, it takes her breath away. Fia cannot be upset that she's been prematurely awoken when this is the sight that greets her.
"Is it morning already?" Fia rubs at her eyes, carefully sitting up with a sleepy groan.
"No, no, not yet, but you have to see this." Irina does not seem at all remorseful for waking Fia, and she takes Fia's hand sooner than Fia can process the words, tugging her upwards.
Now that she's more alert, Fia can vaguely make out the sounds of Mister Henry snoring away across the room, and she thinks she can see an outline of someone that might be Mister Zirk, if only because of the shape of the blanket pile in the corner. Almost spitefully, she is glad that she was not the only one that Mister Henry had to corral into sleeping tonight.
Meanwhile, Irina hasn't even changed into sleeping clothes– she is still wearing her patchwork cloak draped around her, still wearing a set of Zirk's trousers and one of Fia's shirts because they haven't had the time or means to get her any of her own yet. They've only been on this trip for a few days, and Henry estimated it would be a few more before they reach the next town on the river for supplies– though, shamefully, Fia is glad that the trip would take this long, if it means Irina gets to wear her clothes for a little while longer.
So lost in her own thoughts, she barely protests when Irina guides her to her feet, and then all but drags her out of the sleeping quarters, up the stairs and onto the main deck of the ship. They had docked for the night so that they wouldn't have to sleep in shifts, which means its far easier for Fia to stay steady on her feet as she is led over to the starboard deck.
Finally, Irina sits down, and she pats the space next to her. Fia drops without a second thought.
"Now are you going to tell me what you brought me here for?" she asks amusedly, even as she glances down at the place where her hand is still intertwined with Irina's.
Irina waits a moment, fidgeting in place with what can only be excitement, and then she points up to the skies. "Look!"
Fia glances up.
Stars streak across the night sky. The legends say that these shooting stars are blessings of the Trickster waving down upon the mortal realm; sometimes, Batilda would bring Fia out to watch meteor showers, telling her about how they were a sign of good luck, that the humans of old times would make wishes upon the stars as they fell in hopes that the Trickster would answer their prayers and grant them their heart's desire.
Fia does not really believe in that story anymore, especially when she knows that the Trickster no longer walks the mortal plane and would not return. Still, she can understand Irina's delight.
"Isn't it beautiful?" Irina says in wonder, and when Fia glances at her, she is staring at the sky with the stars alit in her eyes, an awestruck smile on her face. "I have never gotten to see the shooting stars in person before, this is amazing."
"Beautiful, yeah," Fia agrees, but she is still staring at Irina.
Irina unclasps her cloak, fidgeting with it as she turns it sideways so that she can drape it over Fia's own shoulders. "Here, we can share," she says, and she finally looks away from the stars, catching Fia's gaze. Her cheeks flush a brilliant shade of pink, and she manages a small, sheepish smile. "It is very cold tonight."
"You know I am not bothered by the cold as easily as you," Fia tells her, but she uses the cloak as an excuse to lean in closer, tentatively curling an arm around Irina's shoulders so that they both fit under the fabric. "You know, in the old legends, people could wish on the stars when they fell across the sky."
"Yes, I've heard that legend as well!" Irina laughs, and she drops her head onto Fia's shoulder, curling into her side. "What are you wishing for, Fi?"
"I don't know what I would wish for," Fia admits, and she glances up at the stars as they fall across the night sky. "I already have everything I want right here."
Irina makes a weird noise against Fia's shoulder, but she doesn't say anything else– just clings tightly to Fia's hand, draped across her side, nestled in her cloak as the meteor shower continues.
When morning comes, Henry finds them both fast asleep on the starboard deck, cuddled together and peaceful.
#kasey writes stuff#naddpod c2#naddpod eldermourne#fia boginya#fiarina#the way i don't know irina's tumblr tag#naddpod irina#this is probably not gonna be the only fiarina fic i write btw#the hyperfixation is hyperfixating
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Capt. Medic Ila "Bruise" Woods
Mainly going by Bruise, but Ila by close friends, she's the Medic of TF Arach, and Captain Medic to other medics in the field.
NONE OF THIS INFORMATION IS OF ACTUAL PEOPLE, SOME DETAILS ARE TAKEN FROM MYSELF BUT IT IS NOT BASED ON ME!!!
TF Arach Masterlist
DOB: October 6th, 1990. [33 years old]
Relationships: ↓
Merils Woods- Husband <alive> {She took his last name}
Janiel "Jani" Woods- Daughter <alive>
Bucky Woods- Son <dead> {miscarriage :'(}
June Morial - Mother <alive>
Simon Morial- Father <dead>
Jack ////////-Uncle (Father's side) <alive>
//////// Bensick- Uncle (Mother's side) <alive>
Alice /////////- Aunt (Mother's side) <alive>
Lucy Morial- Sister <alive>
Quinn Potis- Sister <alive> {used to be married, partner died}
Evelyn "Vely" Morial- Sister <alive>
Ben Bensick- Cousin <alive>
Harold Morial- Cousin <alive>
Lilian ////////- Goddaughter <alive>
Physical details: ↓
Head: Blonde, ear length, relatively curly (2C-3A) hair. One green(left) and one with cataracts(right), round and medium-set eyes. Snub-like nose with a visible upturn. She has thick lips with a thicker upper lip and a circular, slightly chubby face shape.
Body: Ectomorph but slightly thicker, Kite(?) shape. Large bust small hips, she's got tig ol' bitties tho 😫(I'm a sucker for women like that)
Marks (scars, birthmarks, tattoos, missing limbs, etc.): Her abdomen has a tattoo all around it with flower designs. She has no birthmarks. She's got some scarring from a poison dart on her back from trying to escape a captor(it looks like a dark fluid spreading on her back), one from her hairline to her eye from stray shrapnel, resulted in cataracts and ~25% blindness in that eye. And frostbite scars across hands and calves from an incident..(ooh~~). Her missing limbs include her left pinky and ring fingers, and her right leg (mid-thigh and lower gone) from torture while held captive. She also has a tongue piercing.
Other (height & weight stuff, skintone, nationality, etc.): Her skintone is tan, lots of freckles cover her skin. She lives in Australia but has an origin in Las Almas, her parents and other family live there, she moved to Australia. She is 5'11" (1.79m) and weighs 188lbs (85.2 kg). She tends to wear 2000s type clothes, sports bras, torn or worn cargo pants, colourful jackets, etc, and she loves her crown-like jewelry, makes her feel pretty.
Personality details: ↓
She's an open Bisexual to friends but not family, she's on the romantic or sexual spectrum as polyamorous(her and her husband are ready to add a plus-1). She is a Demi-girl and struggles with gender dysphoria very occasionally. She finds nature-like colors like forest green or mushroom brown quite pretty but will not admit that if there's a cool psychedelic neon yellow shirt, she will try it on. Outside people describe her as loud, rude and annoying. People she knows well however, describe her as still loud, but just reserved and distant, quoting something I imagine one of them saying: "she's rude when you first meet her but she warms up quickly as soon as you know her name". She is an ambivert, she uses social interaction to avoid her mental health but sometimes shuts down and can't even leave her room (Arach has a hitch that something's wrong but hasn't caught on fully yet). She's got no sensory issues that are prominent. And She does have mental disorders, including PTSD (ofc), Speration anxiety and rhotacism (she has difficulties in pronouncing the letter r).
And Military info!: ↓
She joined in 2009 at 19 years old, and was transferred to be in the SNS 3 years after joining. She has skills in basic, and advanced medical aid including field operations, Undercover missions, close range combat and some long range, and hostage rescue. But she has difficulties in keeping her emotions in check when in the field, along with using drugs (like morphine or adrenaline bc of being poisoned in the past).
Basic picture using gacha (I use it to visualize what they will look like with color)
Pls don't mind the leg next to her arm 😭 I had to get rid of it somehow
And I will insert a photo I drew below (it will not have color)
I will add the picture as soon as I draw her.
I'm sorry if it's too long, read if you want but you really don't have to, she will be basically described in the fic.
#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty mwii#call of duty#call of duty oc#call of duty original character#cod mwii#cod mw2#cod#cod oc art#cod ocs#cod original character#cod oc#mw2#mw2 oc#mwii#mwii oc#Trill's OCs!
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
May I present my mate Marcus in Piteå, Norrbotten. Photo taken back in 2022. For many years I have documented Swedish skinheads and have had a few small exhibitions in Göteborg and Öland. My idea is to document the wide variety of personalities that exists within the culture, with different lives, plans and dreams. I usually let the people speak for themselves, but Marcus hasn't spoken up yet (I hope one day he will), so at the moment the photos of him will have to speak for themselves. Skinhead culture is one of the most multicultural cultures there are, within its own frames. We exist all around the world and we come in a variety of colours and shapes. We truly connect beyond borders. All because of the clash between jamaican music and british working class style back in the 60's. Eventhough I myself am a quite lonely skin far away from the next one, I am forever thankful for being part of it and for all the good people it has brought into my life. Such as Marcus.
#skinnskalle#skinhead#telefonkiosk#telephone booth#piteå#norrbotten#sweden#sverige#norrland#subkultur#bleachers#skinhead boots#sharp skinhead#skinnboll#skinnbula#tatuering#pite
17 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
superwolvesforever
Part of the Pack
worlds-number-one-slayer
World's Number One Slayer
bandwhoreduh
Society=Bullshit
heavy158
The Fruits