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unseededtoast · 3 months

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Turtle Doves | Joel Miller x F!oc

Part One

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

wc: 2.9k

a/n: Thank you for checking out this story! This is by far one of my favorites that I've ever written and I am beyond ecstatic to finally be able to share it with you all. I will be uploading a new part every week, and let me know if you'd like to be tagged! Once again thank you so much!

(use this link for geographical reference points)

Upbeat music sounds through the house, bright sunshine beaming through the open windows. The crisp breeze whips in every few seconds, blowing the sheer curtains and cooling the house. It all makes it seem more real that summer is finally here. I lightly bob my head to the beat, enjoying the first day of warmth and excited for our first cookout of the year. I hear a few of the guests in the back yard already, laughing and clinking bottles together.

I turn around and open the freezer door, grabbing the ice tray off the top shelf and breaking up the frozen water inside, so that I can dump the cubes into the glass pitcher sitting on the kitchen counter. The ice clings as it falls to the bottom of the pitcher, and I go to fill it with water to finish the lemonade. With another gust of wind, the smell of grilled burgers floats in, making me all too excited to get back out there.

The doorbell rings out and I quickly turn the water off so that the lemonade doesn't overflow into the sink. I set the pitcher off to the side and dry my hands on the towel laying on the counter. Quickly, I make my way to the door and open it, greeting the next arrivals with a wide smile on my face.

"Thank you guys for coming, please make yourselves at home! I think the burgers are just about done out back." I say and close the door behind them, grabbing a dish from my friend's full hands and placing it on the counter. Her daughter toddles through the house, mumbling about something that's apparently very important to her. I smile softly at the little girl and turn my attention to my friend, who I haven't seen in forever. Her husband quickly finds his way to the back yard with the other guests.

"Sorry we're late, someone did not want to wear shoes today." She breathily laughs, setting down a diaper bag as she watches her daughter walk around the house.

"I understand, shoes are a pain." I joke with her and open the fridge to grab a chilled bottle. I hand the wine cooler to her and she pops the cap, taking a sip. I look at my friend, who I notice looks tired and stressed, more than usual. There are dark circles under her eyes and her hair is haphazardly thrown up into a bun. Her appearance is out of character for her, she's typically always primped and dressed for the occasion.

"Tell me about it. I was half tempted to just let her come barefoot. How's Lucas?" She asks about my son, taking another sip. I turn my head to look out the back door, seeing my son being held by my husband.

"He's loving all the attention out there, that's for sure. How are things going, Lisa? I feel like I haven't seen you since last year." I inquire, casually grabbing the lemonade pitcher and setting it beside the veggie tray I took from her. She sighs,

"Things have been better. John has been working more hours lately. Which is fine, it's just that I feel like I never sleep anymore." She tries to joke, but I can sense the exhaustion in her. Her husband works as a physician at a local hospital, and has been on call for the past two weeks. I offer her a small smile and put a hand on her shoulder,

"You and little miss Amelia are welcome here anytime. Lucas would enjoy the company and I know you'd enjoy the rest. I mean it, I don't mind watching her." I tell her, knowing that she will likely never take me up on the offer. Lisa doesn't like to impose on people, though she wouldn't be imposing at all.

"I appreciate it Noelle, thank you." She nods gratefully. Amelia finds her way to the back door and puts her slobber-covered hands on the glass, mumbling nonsense but making it clear she wants out there with everyone else. I laugh at her silliness and balance the veggie tray in one hand and grab the lemonade in the other.

"I think Amelia wants to get out there. Feel free to just relax, we can watch over her. Enjoy yourself, mama." I say and make my way to the backdoor and expertly open it with my elbow. Amelia squeals and runs out onto the grass with the other kids.

Lisa goes to sit on the couch, taking another drink, and I close the door behind me. I set the veggie tray down on a foldable table where the other side dishes are and place the cold lemonade beside the other beverages. The burgers smell amazing and I can't help but glance over to the grill to see if they're done yet. To my disappointment, they're not ready, so I walk over to my husband Ryan, who has Lucas in his arms.

"Do you want me to take him?" I ask, knowing that even though Lucas is a small kid, he gets quite heavy after a while. Ryan nods and hands him off to me, kissing me on the forehead before he goes to grab a beer out of the cooler. Lucas lays his head on my shoulder and I can tell he's ready for his afternoon nap.

I go back in the house to find Lisa chilling on the couch, her drink empty in hand and her head resting back on the cushion with her eyes closed. Quietly, I make my way to Lucas' room and lay him down in bed. Of course, as soon as he's on the mattress he's starts to throw a fit, because he's so obviously not tired.

"Shhh, it's okay." I soothe him, running a hand through his short hair and tucking a light sheet around him while he curls his tiny little hand around my fingers. He always likes to be holding someone's hand as he falls asleep, I think it must be some sort of security thing for him. And thankfully, he's out in just a few minutes. Skillfully, I wiggle my hand from his grasp and close his door softly, hoping he'll sleep for at least an hour or two.

Lisa is now sitting up on the couch, her elbows resting on her knees as she leans forward, listening intensely to whatever is on. Something on the TV must have caught her attention.

I go to the fridge and grab a drink, wanting to indulge a little since Lucas is down for a nap. The words on the TV pique my interest, and I go to sit beside Lisa, who only glances at me out of the corner of her eye.

"Los Angeles is the latest city to be placed under Martial Law. The number of confirmed deaths has now passed two hundred. And according to a leaked report from the World Health Organization, recent vaccination attempts have failed." The reporter seems uptight and rigid as she speaks. Absentmindedly, I take another sip of my drink, feeling uneasy about what I'm hearing. The upbeat music from the yard starkly contrasts the severity of what's on the television.

The news broadcast switches to a helicopter view of Los Angeles and shows a temporary military camp being set up. Large armored trucks line the streets and soldiers instruct people where they need to go. There's smoke in the air from fires that have been set, and it looks like some foreign, war-torn country.

"What do you think of all this?" My voice is unusually hoarse as I take in the images before me. There have been reports of some sickness going around, mainly in the bigger cities, far enough from here to make us feel safe, for now. But seeing the devastation and panic of those in New York, Detroit, and now Los Angeles is making me more uneasy about the whole thing.

"I don't like it. John says we shouldn't worry about it. Whatever it is, they'll find a cure for it soon. He says he hasn't seen anything come through the hospital yet and that we're okay. But I don't know, I can't help but worry, you understand." Lisa's voice is soft, but serious. She tears her eyes away from the screen and looks to me as she finishes her sentence, and I nod my head.

"I understand. Ryan says the same thing. But we aren't that far from Detroit, really. I mean what, a few hours by car? I told him we should at least stock up on some canned goods, just in case." I say, knowing that we share the same anxiety about this mysterious sickness. The back door slides open quickly,

"Burgers are done!" Ryan's voice calls out into the house, snapping Lisa and I out of our contemplation. I clear my throat and take another drink before standing and offering Lisa my hand. She takes it and I help her up as well, and we both go outside, trying to forget what we just saw on the screen.

We join the others in the back yard and Lisa makes quick work to fix Amelia a plate. I urge others to get a plate before I do, feeling unnerved from the news report. After everyone goes through the line, I grab a plate as well, but can only bring myself to put some fruit on it, and that's just for show.

I join Ryan at the patio table and he's tucking into his burger with all the fixings. I take another drink and try my absolute best to act perfectly normal and unperturbed. Ryan swallows and looks between my plate and my face, his eyebrows scrunching together.

"Only fruit?" I nod my head, knowing it's out of my usual to not load up with a burger, chips, and some type of sweet.

"Just not feeling too well." I passively offer as an explanation and take a strawberry into my mouth. He takes another bite of his burger, keeping his eyes on me. I know he can see through my lie, but I know he won't push it in front of people. He puts a hand on my thigh and gives it a squeeze, and I place my hand on top of his.

I take another strawberry and look out into our back yard, seeing Amelia happily nibbling on a bun Lisa gave her. Another little kid sits beside Amelia, Ethan is his name, and he is content with his bowl of chips his mother gave him. Ethan's mother, Rebecca, met Lisa and I at a birthing education group a few years back and we all clicked together instantly. Rebecca's husband, Tim, fit right in with our husbands as well.

Others mill about the yard, associates of Ryan who I don't know very well, but they're friendly enough and I don't mind them. I've never been able to connect with them too well, seeing as there's a sizable age gap between me and the majority of them. Plus, they're all lawyers and I'm a florist, there's not much common ground between the two. Sometimes I wish I had more in common with Ryan's friends, but over time I've accepted that it's okay for us to have differences.

My eyes drift from the people to my flower beds, which are all manicured to perfection. Luckily, all the flowers are vibrant and full, adding more life to the yard it sometimes lacks in the colder months.

After a while, I go about collecting plates and cleaning up the food as the sun begins to disappear behind the horizon. Ryan is entertaining a newly energized Lucas as Lisa and I pack away the leftovers and hunt out the s'mores supplies. No Allen family cookout is complete without s'mores.

I turned the television off as soon as we started bringing things in, not being able to bear the words and images that were sure to be there. If I can just push those thoughts from my mind for another couple hours and make sure people enjoy the cookout, then I can worry about it for the rest of the night after they leave.

Lisa hands me a platter of leftover burgers to put in the fridge and breaks the silence,

"Your flowers are beautiful this year, I really like the tulips you have here." She compliments my fresh pink tulips on the counter. I had picked them this morning before everyone got here so they looked their best. I smile, appreciating the compliment.

"Thank you, I tried to pick the best ones. You can take those with you if you want. I have plenty." I say, motioning to the backyard. It's true, I have an abundance of flowers to choose from, and I want Lisa to have something nice for herself, she deserves it.

"Oh no, I couldn't. You worked hard on those." She dismisses with a wave of her hand, but I give her a stern look.

"Lisa, please take the flowers or I will make sure John takes them." I say, pushing the vase across the counter to her. She knows she's not going to win this argument and concedes, taking the vase in her hands.

"Thank you, Noelle." Her voice is quiet, and I give her a nod.

"Don't mention it. Now let's get these kids full of sugar before bed!" I laugh and hand her some of the s'mores ingredients to take out.

A few of the men had started the fire and have it at a nice height, it should last us long enough to get the s'mores made and for people to say their goodbyes for the night. I hand out the skewers and place the ingredients on the foldable tables, allowing people to help themselves.

Lucas waddles over to me with a marshmallow in his tiny hand, and I smile, knowing he wants me to toast it for him. I grab him in my arms and take his marshmallow, placing it on a skewer before sitting us on a chair close to the fire. Lucas is on my lap as I watch the marshmallow to ensure I don't burn it, but toast it perfectly for him. Lucas is kind of a marshmallow snob, he won't eat one that's been burnt or under-toasted, he only wants the golden-brown ones.

After rotating the marshmallow with patience, I think it's finally good enough for his standards. I grab it off the skewer and blow on it so that he doesn't burn his mouth on the hot sugar. His hands reach towards it, but I lean away to cool it off as much as possible. I can tell he's getting frustrated, and so as soon as I'm sure it's an acceptable temperature, I give it to him. He wastes no time in shoving it in his mouth, a wide, gummy smile on his face with tiny little teeth barely visible.

I watch him lovingly, enjoying seeing him so happy with something so simple. As Lucas finishes his marshmallow, some people begin filtering out for the night. I wave goodbye to them and take Lucas inside to clean him up before bed. His hands and face are sticky with marshmallow fluff, and the last thing I want is for him to touch everything in his reach and get everything coated in stickiness.

I set him up on the counter beside the sink and grab a fresh rag, wetting it lightly so I can get the gross off of him. Rebecca, Tim, and Ethan are the next ones to leave, and I wish them a safe drive home, and thank them once more for coming. Lisa, John, and Amelia are the last ones to leave, and I make sure Lisa takes the tulips with her despite her protests.

After Lucas is cleaned up and Ryan has tidied the back yard, I'm ready for bed. My eyelids are heavy with sleep, and I can't wait to get underneath my warm covers. Lucas fights his bedtime as per usual, but finally lays down for me after minutes of whining.

I close his door and turn off the main lights in the house and ensure the night lights are on, just in case Lucas gets up in the night and needs to get to our room. I rub my eyes as I enter my bedroom and go to the bathroom to do my nightly routine. Ryan is already in bed, flipping through channels to find something.

I rush through my routine and get underneath the covers, sighing with relief as I feel my spine decompress from the day. Rolling over into Ryan's side, I rest my head on his shoulder and look at the television screen. Immediately, I'm displeased with what I see. A bold headline is front and center and it reads 'Death Toll Rises, When Will This End?'. Luckily the TV is on mute so I can't hear what the news reporter is saying.

"I think we need to stock up on things tomorrow. I don't like how this is looking." I say, standing my ground this time. Ryan can believe whatever he wants about this sickness, but I won't risk Lucas going without food or any necessity if things get bad.

"First thing in the morning we can go." Ryan's voice is raspy, and he turns the TV off, not bothering to watch anything else. He adjusts his position and pulls me into him, kissing me goodnight before he rolls over to turn off his bedside lamp.

I cuddle into his side, enjoying the safety I feel in his arms and close my eyes, ready to fall asleep. As I feel myself drifting off, I hear muffled sirens in the distance.

Part Two

#joel miller #joel miller series #joel miller x oc #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou #joel miller romance #slow burn #angst with a happy ending #angst #severe angst #pedro pascal

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itsscromp · 6 months

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Hello, I'm the anon that asked for something with Venom and anxious reader. I really liked it. I want to ask again for something that has been in my head.

Venom who bonds to reader who already isn't a very strong host and is battling a very bad ailment. With venom in their body he helps strengthen them against the disease. But they end up having a fight and venom leaves when his host can't sustain him. Only to end up feeling bad and missing them, so he comes back only to find their condition has severely worsened and they might not make it.

Sorry if it's a little long, but I really love what you do, keep doing it! ♥️

Venom x reader

Hello again anon, I'm so glad you enjoyed your request, Thank you for requesting again, Venom would do anything for his host. No matter what. Also a slight warning that if anything isn't accurate or correct, please don't hesitate to let me know :D Word count:1K

The past year has been absolute hell for you, You were diagnosed with leukemia, And over the year you were put through chemotherapy and underwent a lot of radiation, But the disease only spread rapidly and increased to stage 2, But that was when you met venom.

You became his host, You were amazed when he used his powers to do something about your cancer. And to the doctor's shock, you gained your strength back. In fact, you never felt better in your life. Going now 6 months without radiation or medication, your hair even grew back. But you remembered you had to help sustain venom as much as you could. But there was only so much your body could take. Yes, venom helped with your cancer, but only stopped it from progressing further. So you were still feeling the pain of it all whenever you tried to find any bad guys to help Venom.

While he was sympathetic at first, over time he grew increasingly frustrated over the lack of progress in finding bad guys to help sustain him.

"You said I could eat bad guys !!!!" He bit into your couch.

"Look I'm trying but theirs only so much that I can take to go and look through the entire city for you !!" you rubbed your face in frustration as he looked at you.

"Bullshit, This disease is only holding our potential together back, You should be lucky that I am helping you" He growled in frustration.

"Oh yeah ?? Says the parasite who got kicked off his own freaking planet !!!" you yelled at him.

'Parasite !!!" He yelled and headbutted you, breaking your nose. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me, please let me fix it." He then healed your nose. "So I can break it again !!!" Headbutting and breaking your nose again.

"Fuck you !!!" You grabbed his head and slammed it on the coffee table.

A fight ensued with you two as things were thrown, venom tossing you around the apartment and slamming you against the wall. When he then trapped you on the ceiling, You reached for the smoke alarm and activated it, Sending a high frequency to him, Causing him to leap out of your body.

"Stuff this !!" He jumped out and infected another person, transforming them.

"No !!" You shouted as you saw him.

"Yeah !!" He flipped you off as he jumped off, He didn't need you, not at all. You couldn't sustain him.

But with you no longer his host, You grew deeply worried with thoughts running around your mind about your cancer. He helped slow it down. But he's gone, You were starting to shake with anxiety with what could happen now.

A week later venom was feeling bummed, He was starting to miss you, He was also starting to feel guilty for yelling at you. He knew you were trying your hardest. And he knew you didn't mean to call him a parasite. The guilt in him continued to consume him until he couldn't take it any longer. While still with his new host, he took control and headed back to your apartment. Knocking a few times but to no answer, this made him worried. So he knocked on your next-door neighbour's door which she answered.

"Excuse me ma'am, but do you know what happened to the person in that apartment ??" He pointed to your door.

"Oh... Y/n... I'm sorry but they're in hospital" she answered sadly.

"What ?? Why ??" Venom was in complete shock.

"I think their cancer got worse..."

"Which hospital did they go to ??" He asked, he needed to get to you.

"San Francisco State I believe" She answered .

With that, venom was on a mission, Taking the host's car and then driving like a mad symbiote to the hospital, his best friend was super sick now, and it was his fault...

"I'm coming y/n..."

He found the hospital and passed himself onto a doctor who was finishing his lunch break and went to the receptionist.

"I need the room for y/n l/n" He asked

"They are in the cancer unit, Room D12" The receptionist said.

He nodded and went on his way, Finding the cancer unit and then room D12, He opened the door to find you and hooked up to many machines. lying in bed unconscious as the nurse took some measurements and fixed your IV drip.

"How's they're condition looking ??" He asked, trying to sound like a doctor.

"It increased to stage 3, I don't think they'll have at least 2 days to live" The nurse said sadly.

2 days... no... venom needed to fix this, He needed your help. Once the nurse left , he joined her, but as he then closed the door, venom leaped out of his body and slithered his way up your bed, nearing your hand.

"Y/n... I don't know if you can hear me at all... But I'm going to make it better. I promise you, I'm really sorry for the fight, Let me fix it" He said to you sadly.

Soon he began to wreath into your body, determined to fight your cancer for you. With all his might he looked for the the cancer cells and cleared them out. Until they're was nothing left.

Your heart rate picked up as you got better and better. Eventually, you woke up. Back in the hospital room.

"Easy y/n... I got us" Venom softly said to you.

"Venom ??" You said weakly.

"Yes, It Is me... Y/n, I am so sorry for yelling at you, and for tossing you around the apartment..."

"No... I deserved it... I didn't keep my end of the bargain... So you had every right" Tears filled your eyes as the guilt consumed you too. "I'm sorry for calling you parasite" As your tears fall, small tentacles wreathed out your face and wiped them away.

"Cheer up ol' pal. Everything is gonna get better like they always do." Making you chuckle.

Venom would have your back through thick and thin. When life is at its most cloudiest. Darkest, He would be there to brighten it up again, just by being Venom. You wouldn't want anything else.

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

#platonic #reader insert #venom #venom x reader #venom symbiote #venom let there be carnage #symbiote

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yangzhouman · 8 months

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long post about batman beyond because i have feelings

batman beyond is so damn bleak in the obvious ways and yet it goes all the way thru. like it initially positions itself as a story about how “keeping it in the family” just ends up with dead family members and the only way out of being eaten by generational trauma is to abandon the family structure. what bruce and terry have at the start is loose and resistant to definition even when others try (”your keeper’s here” and “who else could take care of his affairs? he has no wife, no children.” / “me. i could do it.” / ) and when they (meaning terry and bruce) eventually label it as an employer/employee kinda thing it feels fresh.

when you’re the best man for the job you can call your boss a bitch. and he’s not gonna be in your living room at the end of a stressful day. there’s distance. there’s employee rights. they both care deeply about their job and eventually about each other but there’s no guilt when the job gets in the way, because there’s nothing for it to get in the way of -- their relationship IS batman.

it feels un-familial EVEN WHEN the family metaphor gets pushed onto them. it’s important that bruce isn’t terry’s father; terry has a father that he loves, and bruce needs to come to terms with a more impersonal, wider guilt of being an ageing bat in a city that will never stop needing batman. when others do try to conceptualise whats going on with terry and bruce thru a family lens, it jars because that straight up isn’t the connection they have, and people can tell -- they’re just missing the context of both being batman.

it’s good! it’s really good! it turns batman on its head by looking at it as an ideological gap that people can slip into, rather than something that is handed down, man to boy, with a clear lineage and direction -- now it’s an analytical framework of vigilantism that is open to all who feel brave. widening batman up like this makes barbara’s relationship with bruce & batman a little more complex too, as she is distinctly not a wayne and does not see bruce as her father, but still stepped into a sort of shadow/partner role to the big bat (misogyny... she’s proto-terry in the context of batman beyond but why does terry get to be more? questions i know the answer to.)

imo batman beyond, when at its best, makes batman a possibility: a nebulous idea that centres around gotham and righteousness rather than an individual and his grief. it’s a way out for bruce in particular, who calls himself batman in his own head but has to come to terms with a new bat who has no debt with him in any way -- and he grows in that safe relationship. as an old man! he grows!

and then. and then. oh my god. oh my godddd dc falls to its old ways and terry becomes bruce’s biological son? he gets narutofied*? it is single-handedly the worst thing that has ever happened to me. there is no escape! batman is bruce wayne and can only be bruce wayne. it/he is a trap that absorbs anyone who comes near! batfam is a curse that infects and infects! i am putting up with it because i like batman beyond so much even with this. but god. what a letdown what a needless twist in a universe that already has MANY cloning stories and MANYYYYY biological heir stories

*this refers to uzumaki naruto from NARUTO who starts as a nameless orphan in a hostile world, but then discovers that he is actually the son of two very important people, which stands in opposition to the earlier story beats and makes him special in a way that i find very gross, as it cheapens the work that he has done as a character-in-story to carve out a place for himself in the narrative world, and shows a lack of commitment on the author’s part to challenging storytelling by relying on the tired shonen tropes of bloodline rights and inherited power as proof of character significance

#🐸#Batman Beyond #dc

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starry-blue-echoes · 1 year

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so it just hit me that since I've finally read SBR I can actually Have Thoughts about the Diego Giorno brother AU I made AGES ago so let's do that shall we-

as I said before, Diego is the older twin by a couple minutes and he takes his role as The Eldest very seriously. He's ridiculously protective of Giorno, mostly due to their upbringing but also because of the addition of his more feral impulses later when he gets his Stand

speaking of, getting Scary Monsters as a kid was...... well, scary. The sudden influx of sensory information led to many sensory overloads as a kid, and the poor living conditions didn't help in the slightest. It was entirely up to Giorno to help assist him when things got too much, but by the time they got a handle on it Diego was already seen as a "problem child"

neither had any idea why Diego had “DIO” patterned on his sides in Dino Form, but that became the source of his nickname. His Dino Form is also one of the reasons his favorite color is blue

also I'm making him feathery in this AU, because Feathery Dinos Go Brrrrr

Diego ends up doing what he can to take most of the attention off Giorno simply because Scary Monsters means he's a heck of a lot more durable, plus stronger and faster. Giorno hates it more than anything, and this results in them learning that GE can “heal”

Giorno was actually the first thing Diego had managed to infect with Scary Monster, albeit accidentally when they were kids and he was having a particularly bad sensory overload. While Diego is very careful to make sure he doesn't control Giorno, he technically still can and can also make him morph into a dinosaur, which prior to canon they mostly use for fun things like rooftop runs and running around the outside of the city and wresting

Diego doesn't need as much sleep anymore and can get by perfectly fine with only a couple hours, but the downside is now he has a much bigger appetite which can be difficult to accommodate for sometimes. Giorno does too, but to a slightly lesser degree since his transformations are much less permanent

these two Stands are a terrifying combo. My headcanon is that certain animals are "species" locked, ie there's only a small amount of dinos Diego can choose from per type of animal, but Giorno almost completely negates this limit. Diego does have to be careful with how deeply he scratches and to not make too many small injuries pile up, but these two have spent hours experimenting with what animals become what

Diego still really likes horses, and sometimes on weekends the pair will go waaaaaay outside Naples and Giorno will make some for them to ride. Over the years they've gotten really good, and it's Diego's dream to someday be a professional horse jockey

the twins also have a……. slight mental connection. Because of Diego’s control over Giorno, they’re always aware of where the other is and if they really try they can communicate basic emotion and intent, but that’s the hard limit. It’s enough to creep people out though

#dinosaur and the ladybug #jjba #jojo’s bizarre adventure #golden wind #vento aureo #jjba part 5 #jjba giorno #giorno giovanna #gold experience #jjba diego #diego brando #scary monsters

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pandoraimperatrix · 1 year

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Wandering Worlds Meta (Part III) - The Evanescent Tamaranean Empire

Reminder that everything I'll write here only applies to My Fanfiction. Please for the love of GOD do not use this as some claim I'm making over the DC or the HBO Max's show canon.

Tamaran is a Monarchy of coalition, it means the Monarch's power is not absolute, as most monarchies go... But unlike, idk, the monarchies of Europe, because Tamaraneans are deeply emotional straight forward people, and because they have a Living Goddess; there is no pretence that the Monarch’s status comes from God.

X'hal is alive, and well, living her best life and the Tamaraneans believe that when they die their life-energy will return to her. And by coalition, I mean there are various small kingdoms under the Great Monarch (Kory’s family, at the moment) they are closer to a democracy than an absolutist monarchy.

For the last three generations the And'r House has been the Great Family House, the family that has been ruling over the small local Kingdoms, but it doesn't mean there has been many internal and external disputes.

Tamaran is under constant attack from the Citatel and their Gordanian Mercenaries, they attack to capture prisoners for slave trade; and the Psions, enemies of the Citatel, a race of Scientists that like to capture other species to experiment on them until they die.

In Wandering Worlds, unlike the New Teen Titans Comic Book, Kory's parents never exchanged her for peace with the Citatel, therefore, she was never sold to slavery. She was never experimented by Psions either, her powers are her own, there was never stealing of Kom’s powers.

Kory's mission to kill the Raven and save the world from season one, was the mission that would make her ascend from Crown Princess to Queen, after that, she would marry and take over while her parents would step down.

She was promised to the House of Arras, but not to Prince Karras, but his older brother Yarras. And Karras was supposed to marry Komand’r. Yarras died as a child of the same illness that handicapped Komand'r, Ga’ula.

What is this sickness? It's a viral infection result of Psion experimentation that became pandemic, it’s the reason why Okaara perished and they had to move to Tamaran.

Tamaraneans have the great ability of absorbing solar radiation and store it. This radiation is how a Tamarean feeds. They don’t need to eat everyday, nor to breath oxygen everyday, but they cannot go without sunlight for longer than three days.

The radiation from the sun is metabolize and used to create starbolts, repair their own bodies super fast, to fly AND to absorb and share language through touch.

Ga’ula damages the photoreceptors of the tamaranean skin, without being able to absorb sunlight the person dies of inanition.

Depending of how much damage the virus does to the body, you can have someone with handicaps like Komand’r who has many issues in the high functions (her deficiency concerns the mostly the ability of absorbing and communicating using language) but has never been in danger of dying. Karras older brother was so ill, that he couldn’t even feed from the sun to keep his body functioning. When Yarras died, Kory became Karras promised. One of many reasons why Komand’r always felt like she only Kory’s hand-me-downs, and it didn’t help when after Karras became Kory’s fiancé, nobody cared to set a new match for Kom.

When Kory failed to return to Tamaran, the Citatel used the fragility caused by the internal politics to finally invade Tamaran, they had been making small attacks for eons, but this was a frontal attack how they had never dared before. Whole cities were raided, and millions of tamaraneans were kidnapped and sold to slavery.

With their heiress still lost, Myand’r and Luand’r tried to negotiate peace, the Citatel offered ten years of truce if they were handed Komand’r as a prize. The nobles and smaller kings and queens who had already lost their own children, pressed the House of And’r to take the deal since Kom was already damaged. When Kom found out, she murdered her own parents and tried to take over the planet, breaking the attempt of peace and drowning the Tamaran in civil wars. When things got really bad she went after Kory and season 3 and the plot of Wandering Worlds happened.

Next on part IV: Tamaranean noble houses, foods, military, words and traditions.

#dickkory #Tamaran #Dick Grayson #Koriand'r #Nightwing #Starfire #Kory Anders #Richard Grayson #show: Titans #HBO Max Titans #DCU Titans #Titans Live Action #WW #Wandering Worlds #my fic

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realistically-shifting · 3 months

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Where I’m waking up - Orion

I’ve been traveling with Hana for roughly two years since the start of the apocalypse. She’s extremely smart, quiet, and she mostly follows my rules. We’ve managed to keep our secret hidden, our immunity and her ability to give it. I recently caught a nasty infection and the fever put me out of commission for a few days. My healing factor helped by turning what would’ve been deadly to a three or four day flu.

To make things easy; After getting sick, I managed to find an empty cargo yacht docked near the city we were in. Delirious from the fever and food insecurity, I was conscious enough to make sure I brought her to an empty, comfortable room that had a locking door where she would be safe while I recovered. I was not conscious enough to realize that the well-kept ship was obviously owned by someone. Remus.

Remus found me and Hana and took us back to his island, waiting for me to get better after barely managing to get me to take medicine. Hana freaked out whenever he tried to get close, and I was loopy yet clearly agitated by his presence when I briefly woke up. He carried me to a guest bedroom close to his master bedroom, followed closely by Hana keeping an eye on him. He owns a great Pyrenees mountain dog that’s roughly the same size as me, Titan, and he had Titan stay with us to keep Hana company (Titan and Hana are now inseparable).

Whenever he isn’t checking on me or trying to get on Hana’s good side, he’s been pacing. Waiting for me to get better and wake up so he could see me properly. He’s been having dreams of me for years at this point, and the dreams were happening every day up until a few days ago. Now, I showed up half dead on his yacht with a child. He hasn’t been able to calm down this entire time. When he first saw me, he was in shock until he heard and saw Hana crying. He would’ve been taking care of me and staying at my bedside this entire time, but he didn’t want to needlessly stress out Hana who is already understandably upset with me bedridden. Still, whenever he came to take care of me, he always hesitated to leave the room and his touches always lingered, hoping I would wake up and he’d get to see me look at him.

Remus believes that the gods themselves wanted for us to meet. I’m debating telling him about the immunity myself, or shifting to where he found out when taking care of me and seeing Hana when she let her guard down. Either way, in the story he was thankful to the gods for both of us. The woman/person of his dreams, her daughter, plus the one with the ability to give immunity and evolution. At this point he already considers us basically married, I just don’t know that yet, so he lets us do whatever we want and trusts me with everything.

I’m in the guest bedroom with Hana. Hana is across the room with Titan, sleeping deeply with him curled up around her, so I don’t have to worry about her as I’m shifting. She’s been keeping herself busy with her things plus the toys Remus brought her. It’s early morning, the air is cool now but it’ll get hot later. The only light is sunlight coming through the window. I’m laying down on two firm, white pillows, laying on top of soft cotton sheets with a fluffy comforter on top of me. To my left is the door to the room, there’s a small bedside table Hana dragged in front of it to barricade the room. There’s also one bedside table that has some toys on it, plus our things are sitting in a pile beside it. To my right is the window and another bedside table. On it is a bottle of water along with the bottle of medicine he got me to take. There’s also dried food like jerky, but across the room there’s a table that has a mostly eaten plate of food. He’s been preparing meals so Hana could have something hot to eat. Hana helped me get into a black nightgown, my hair is braided down in cornrows, and I can see the door to the guest bathroom from where I’m laying in the bed. It smells clean, it’s quiet, and my body aches slightly, but otherwise I’m totally recovered.

Remus is outside, doing his morning exercises before coming back in to make breakfast and check on us again.

#desired reality #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting community #shifting realities #shifting script #quantum jumping #shifting #black shifters #shifting reality #shifting methods #reality shifter #reality shift #shifters #shifting motivation #dr tidbits #zombie apocalypse dr #my script

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a-tale-never-told · 6 months

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Kyoto University Hospital, September 2012, 1:20 pm.

*Whistling*

"*In the hallways of the second floor, Keiko, dressed up in a white nurse uniform, is currently strolling her way in the right direction to the doctor's office. In her left hand, a yellow folder containing a document about a type of disease was clutched deeply into her hand as she headed toward the office*"

*"Once she approached the right corner, she saw the office room with the name "Miaymoto, Shuzu P.h." and proceeded to walk on in."*

Creak!

Shuzu: I thought I told you to knock before you come in, Keiko?

S-sorry, doc, I forgot.

*"Shuzu proceeds to get up and come from the already damp and dark room, revealing him as a man in his late 30s with black hair, a doctor's coat, and a pale, ash-stricken face*".

Shuzu: It's fine, just remember to knock on the front door before you come in next time, okay?

Yeah... Understood.

Shuzu: Okay then *looks at the letter before him* I'm guessing this is what you were going to give me, wasn't it?

*Takes a deep breath* One of the patients contracted Malaria about a few weeks ago.

Shuzu: *sighs* You have got to be kidding me? How bad are the symptoms now?

Well, from what I've got, the patient seems to have suffered some severe headaches, he was vomiting a bit an hour ago and is currently suffering from a high fever. I've given him some medicine in order to calm him down, and so far, his vital signs are mostly healthy, but the symptoms are still in his body so there is unfortunately that.

Shuzu: I see *looks up at Keiko* give him some Aretemisin drugs to cure malaria, as long as it's not a severe case of Malaria. If it is, then we have a bigger problem on our hands. I especially recommend the use of ACT, to treat the uncomplicated malaria that the patient most likely suffers from. Trust me, the drug medicine works 90% of the time in situations like this.

It's not just that, it's the fact of how many similar cases are like this happening now. This is the 30th case of Malaria that has happened around the city, maybe perhaps far more than 30 if we don't know. And that is just on a weekly basis! Who knows how many people got infected with malaria these past few days? It's like an epidemic has spread over the city.

Shuzu: I wholeheartedly understand my dear, but trust me when I say that the rest of the medical community here in Kyoto is trying their best to combat the spread of Malaria, especially from the main root of the spread, Anopheles. The Damm mosquitos are just as a nuisance as the commies themselves. Guess we're pretty much patient zero in terms of Maleria in this nation, *sighs*

Shuzu: You want my advice? Don't panic about it too much. I and the other senior doctors will try to see how we can combat the spread before it becomes nearly uncontainable. By the way, have you heard from Tsumiki yet if she is coming today or not?

No, she didn't answer the phone when I called her. My only guess is that she must be asleep at the moment, or somewhere else.

Shuzu: A real shame, we could've used her at a time like this, the poor dear. *clicks his tongue* Hoo boy, look, Keiko, I tell you what? Take a 20-minute break for a bit, just to refresh yourself. I don't want you to over-exhaust yourself this early. I'll call you back when it's time to give the artemisinin.

Doc.... thanks. I really appreciate your efforts.

Shuzu: No problem. In the meantime, I'll get my clipboard and head to the patient's room to give the diagnosis. Mind telling me what room he's in?

Room 260!

Shuzu: Got it! Thank you and enjoy your break!.

*"With that, Shuzu grabs the clipboard from the desktop and proceeds to head out of the office to room 260. Once he's gone from sight, Keiko closes the door and proceeds to sit down on the waiting chair in front of her, closing her eyes in exhaustion*"

*Sighs* My god... this certainly can't get any worse today, right?

#mod talks #keiko hinata #shuzu miayamoto #dr2 #dr #twlight syndrome arc #a tale never told #asks #anonymous

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missmentelle · 3 years

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Why Smart People Believe Stupid Things

If you’ve been paying attention for the last couple of years, you might have noticed that the world has a bit of a misinformation problem.

The problem isn’t just with the recent election conspiracies, either. The last couple of years has brought us the rise (and occasionally fall) of misinformation-based movements like:

Sandy Hook conspiracies

Gamergate

Pizzagate

The MRA/incel/MGTOW movements

anti-vaxxers

flat-earthers

the birther movement

the Illuminati

climate change denial

Spygate

Holocaust denial

COVID-19 denial

5G panic

QAnon

But why do people believe this stuff?

It would be easy - too easy - to say that people fall for this stuff because they’re stupid. We all want to believe that smart people like us are immune from being taken in by deranged conspiracies. But it’s just not that simple. People from all walks of life are going down these rabbit holes - people with degrees and professional careers and rich lives have fallen for these theories, leaving their loved ones baffled. Decades-long relationships have splintered this year, as the number of people flocking to these conspiracies out of nowhere reaches a fever pitch.

So why do smart people start believing some incredibly stupid things? It’s because:

Our brains are built to identify patterns.

Our brains fucking love puzzles and patterns. This is a well-known phenomenon called apophenia, and at one point, it was probably helpful for our survival - the prehistoric human who noticed patterns in things like animal migration, plant life cycles and the movement of the stars was probably a lot more likely to survive than the human who couldn’t figure out how to use natural clues to navigate or find food.

The problem, though, is that we can’t really turn this off. Even when we’re presented with completely random data, we’ll see patterns. We see patterns in everything, even when there’s no pattern there. This is why people see Jesus in a burnt piece of toast or get superstitious about hockey playoffs or insist on always playing at a certain slot machine - our brains look for patterns in the constant barrage of random information in our daily lives, and insist that those patterns are really there, even when they’re completely imagined.

A lot of conspiracy theories have their roots in people making connections between things that aren’t really connected. The belief that “vaccines cause autism” was bolstered by the fact that the first recognizable symptoms of autism happen to appear at roughly the same time that children receive one of their rounds of childhood immunizations - the two things are completely unconnected, but our brains have a hard time letting go of the pattern they see there. Likewise, many people were quick to latch on to the fact that early maps of COVID infections were extremely similar to maps of 5G coverage - the fact that there’s a reasonable explanation for this (major cities are more likely to have both high COVID cases AND 5G networks) doesn’t change the fact that our brains just really, really want to see a connection there.

Our brains love proportionality.

Specifically, our brains like effects to be directly proportional to their causes - in other words, we like it when big events have big causes, and small causes only lead to small events. It’s uncomfortable for us when the reverse is true. And so anytime we feel like a “big” event (celebrity death, global pandemic, your precious child is diagnosed with autism) has a small or unsatisfying cause (car accident, pandemics just sort of happen every few decades, people just get autism sometimes), we sometimes feel the need to start looking around for the bigger, more sinister, “true” cause of that event.

Consider, for instance, the attempted assassination of Pope John Paul II. In 1981, Pope John Paul II was shot four times by a Turkish member of a known Italian paramilitary secret society who’d recently escaped from prison - on the surface, it seems like the sort of thing conspiracy theorists salivate over, seeing how it was an actual multinational conspiracy. But they never had much interest in the assassination attempt. Why? Because the Pope didn’t die. He recovered from his injuries and went right back to Pope-ing. The event didn’t have a serious outcome, and so people are content with the idea that one extremist carried it out. The death of Princess Diana, however, has been fertile ground for conspiracy theories; even though a woman dying in a car accident is less weird than a man being shot four times by a paid political assassin, her death has attracted more conspiracy theories because it had a bigger outcome. A princess dying in a car accident doesn’t feel big enough. It’s unsatisfying. We want such a monumentous moment in history to have a bigger, more interesting cause.

These theories prey on pre-existing fear and anger.

Are you a terrified new parent who wants the best for their child and feels anxious about having them injected with a substance you don’t totally understand? Congrats, you’re a prime target for the anti-vaccine movement. Are you a young white male who doesn’t like seeing more and more games aimed at women and minorities, and is worried that “your” gaming culture is being stolen from you? You might have been very interested in something called Gamergate. Are you a right-wing white person who worries that “your” country and way of life is being stolen by immigrants, non-Christians and coastal liberals? You’re going to love the “all left-wingers are Satantic pedo baby-eaters” messaging of QAnon.

Misinformation and conspiracy theories are often aimed strategically at the anxieties and fears that people are already experiencing. No one likes being told that their fears are insane or irrational; it’s not hard to see why people gravitate towards communities that say “yes, you were right all along, and everyone who told you that you were nuts to be worried about this is just a dumb sheep. We believe you, and we have evidence that you were right along, right here.” Fear is a powerful motivator, and you can make people believe and do some pretty extreme things if you just keep telling them “yes, that thing you’re afraid of is true, but also it’s way worse than you could have ever imagined.”

Real information is often complicated, hard to understand, and inherently unsatisfying.

The information that comes from the scientific community is often very frustrating for a layperson; we want science to have hard-and-fast answers, but it doesn’t. The closest you get to a straight answer is often “it depends” or “we don’t know, but we think X might be likely”. Understanding the results of a scientific study with any confidence requires knowing about sampling practices, error types, effect sizes, confidence intervals and publishing biases. Even asking a simple question like “is X bad for my child” will usually get you a complicated, uncertain answer - in most cases, it really just depends. Not understanding complex topics makes people afraid - it makes it hard to trust that they’re being given the right information, and that they’re making the right choices.

Conspiracy theories and misinformation, on the other hand, are often simple, and they are certain. Vaccines bad. Natural things good. 5G bad. Organic food good. The reason girls won’t date you isn’t a complex combination of your social skills, hygiene, appearance, projected values, personal circumstances, degree of extroversion, luck and life phase - girls won’t date you because feminism is bad, and if we got rid of feminism you’d have a girlfriend. The reason Donald Trump was an unpopular president wasn’t a complex combination of his public bigotry, lack of decorum, lack of qualifications, open incompetence, nepotism, corruption, loss of soft power, refusal to uphold the basic responsibilities of his position or his constant lying - they hated him because he was fighting a secret sex cult and they’re all in it.

Instead of making you feel stupid because you’re overwhelmed with complex information, expert opinions and uncertain advice, conspiracy theories make you feel smart - smarter, in fact, than everyone who doesn’t believe in them. And that’s a powerful thing for people living in a credential-heavy world.

Many conspiracy theories are unfalsifiable.

It is very difficult to prove a negative. If I tell you, for instance, that there’s no such thing as a purple swan, it would be very difficult for me to actually prove that to you - I could spend the rest of my life photographing swans and looking for swans and talking to people who know a lot about swans, and yet the slim possibility would still exist that there was a purple swan out there somewhere that I just hadn’t found yet. That’s why, in most circumstances, the burden of proof lies with the person making the extraordinary claim - if you tell me that purple swans exist, we should continue to assume that they don’t until you actually produce a purple swan.

Conspiracy theories, however, are built so that it’s nearly impossible to “prove” them wrong. Is there any proof that the world’s top-ranking politicians and celebrities are all in a giant child sex trafficking cult? No. But can you prove that they aren’t in a child sex-trafficking cult? No, not really. Even if I, again, spent the rest of my life investigating celebrities and following celebrities and talking to people who know celebrities, I still couldn’t definitely prove that this cult doesn’t exist - there’s always a chance that the specific celebrities I’ve investigated just aren’t in the cult (but other ones are!) or that they’re hiding evidence of the cult even better than we think. Lack of evidence for a conspiracy theory is always treated as more evidence for the theory - we can’t find anything because this goes even higher up than we think! They’re even more sophisticated at hiding this than we thought! People deeply entrenched in these theories don’t even realize that they are stuck in a circular loop where everything seems to prove their theory right - they just see a mountain of “evidence” for their side.

Our brains are very attached to information that we “learned” by ourselves.

Learning accurate information is not a particularly interactive or exciting experience. An expert or reliable source just presents the information to you in its entirety, you read or watch the information, and that’s the end of it. You can look for more information or look for clarification of something, but it’s a one-way street - the information is just laid out for you, you take what you need, end of story.

Conspiracy theories, on the other hand, almost never show their hand all at once. They drop little breadcrumbs of information that slowly lead you where they want you to go. This is why conspiracy theorists are forever telling you to “do your research” - they know that if they tell you everything at once, you won’t believe them. Instead, they want you to indoctrinate yourself slowly over time, by taking the little hints they give you and running off to find or invent evidence that matches that clue. If I tell you that celebrities often wear symbols that identify them as part of a cult and that you should “do your research” about it, you can absolutely find evidence that substantiates my claim - there are literally millions of photos of celebrities out there, and anyone who looks hard enough is guaranteed to find common shapes, poses and themes that might just mean something (they don’t - eyes and triangles are incredibly common design elements, and if I took enough pictures of you, I could also “prove” that you also clearly display symbols that signal you’re in the cult).

The fact that you “found” the evidence on your own, however, makes it more meaningful to you. We trust ourselves, and we trust that the patterns we uncover by ourselves are true. It doesn’t feel like you’re being fed misinformation - it feels like you’ve discovered an important truth that “they” didn’t want you to find, and you’ll hang onto that for dear life.

Older people have not learned to be media-literate in a digital world.

Fifty years ago, not just anyone could access popular media. All of this stuff had a huge barrier to entry - if you wanted to be on TV or be in the papers or have a radio show, you had to be a professional affiliated with a major media brand. Consumers didn’t have easy access to niche communities or alternative information - your sources of information were basically your local paper, the nightly news, and your morning radio show, and they all more or less agreed on the same set of facts. For decades, if it looked official and it appeared in print, you could probably trust that it was true.

Of course, we live in a very different world today - today, any asshole can accumulate an audience of millions, even if they have no credentials and nothing they say is actually true (like “The Food Babe”, a blogger with no credentials in medicine, nutrition, health sciences, biology or chemistry who peddles health misinformation to the 3 million people who visit her blog every month). It’s very tough for older people (and some younger people) to get their heads around the fact that it’s very easy to create an “official-looking” news source, and that they can’t necessarily trust everything they find on the internet. When you combine that with a tendency toward “clickbait headlines” that often misrepresent the information in the article, you have a generation struggling to determine who they can trust in a media landscape that doesn’t at all resemble the media landscape they once knew.

These beliefs become a part of someone’s identity.

A person doesn’t tell you that they believe in anti-vaxx information - they tell you that they ARE an anti-vaxxer. Likewise, people will tell you that they ARE a flat-earther, a birther, or a Gamergater. By design, these beliefs are not meant to be something you have a casual relationship with, like your opinion of pizza toppings or how much you trust local weather forecasts - they are meant to form a core part of your identity.

And once something becomes a core part of your identity, trying to make you stop believing it becomes almost impossible. Once we’ve formed an initial impression of something, facts just don’t change our minds. If you identify as an antivaxxer and I present evidence that disproves your beliefs, in your mind, I’m not correcting inaccurate information - I am launching a very personal attack against a core part of who you are. In fact, the more evidence I present, the more you will burrow down into your antivaxx beliefs, more confident than ever that you are right. Admitting that you are wrong about something that is important to you is painful, and your brain would prefer to simply deflect conflicting information rather than subject you to that pain.

We can see this at work with something called the confirmation bias. Simply put, once we believe something, our brains hold on to all evidence that that belief is true, and ignore evidence that it’s false. If I show you 100 articles that disprove your pet theory and 3 articles that confirm it, you’ll cling to those 3 articles and forget about the rest. Even if I show you nothing but articles that disprove your theory, you’ll likely go through them and pick out any ambiguous or conflicting information as evidence for “your side”, even if the conclusion of the article shows that you are wrong - our brains simply care about feeling right more than they care about what is actually true.

There is a strong community aspect to these theories.

There is no one quite as supportive or as understanding as a conspiracy theorist - provided, of course, that you believe in the same conspiracy theories that they do. People who start looking into these conspiracy theories are told that they aren’t crazy, and that their fears are totally valid. They’re told that the people in their lives who doubted them were just brainwashed sheep, but that they’ve finally found a community of people who get where they’re coming from. Whenever they report back to the group with the “evidence” they’ve found or the new elaborations on the conspiracy theory that they’ve been thinking of (“what if it’s even worse than we thought??”), they are given praise for their valuable contributions. These conspiracy groups often become important parts of people’s social networks - they can spend hours every day talking with like-minded people from these communities and sharing their ideas.

Of course, the flipside of this is that anyone who starts to doubt or move away from the conspiracy immediately loses that community and social support. People who have broken away from antivaxx and QAnon often say that the hardest part of leaving was losing the community and friendships they’d built - not necessarily giving up on the theory itself. Many people are rejected by their real-life friends and family once they start to get entrenched in conspiracy theories; the friendships they build online in the course of researching these theories often become the only social supports they have left, and losing those supports means having no one to turn to at all. This is by design - the threat of losing your community has kept people trapped in abusive religious sects and cults for as long as those things have existed.

#missmentelle #askmissmentelle #conspiracy theories #cults #psychology #science #neuroscience

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

Merlin goes home for a little while, determined to enjoy a well-earned vacation;

Camelot immediately falls apart, with the sole exceptions of Guinevere and Gaius.

Merlin knows Arthur really well.

Which just means he knows exactly how to get him to let his servant go home for two weeks to visit his mother and relax a little:

“You just don’t want me to go because you know you can’t cope without me! Look, if you want to come with me, that’s fine, but you’ll struggle just as much there as you would here because I refuse to act as your servant in my own home.”

Arthur turns red, looking outraged as he loses the ability to speak. Merlin turns around before The King can see his satisfied smirk, tidying around the prat’s chambers with exaggerated annoyance as he just waits for the inevitable-

“Fine! Go! See if I even notice that you’re gone! Honestly, Merlin, the running of the Kingdom will probably end up going smoother without you here to mess things up, you bumbling idiot.”

Merlin grins to himself before schooling his face back into annoyance and turning around with a huff, crossing his arms petulantly:

“Fine!”

The servant decides that he’d better leave, what with the way he was struggling to keep the victorious grin from his face, so without waiting for a response, he “storms” from the room, slamming the door behind him as dramatically as he’s able when he hears Arthur yell:

“FINE!”

Merlin sets off at the beginning of the next week. Gaius had raised a disapproving eyebrow when his ward had told him how he’d gotten Arthur to agree to such a long vacation, but didn’t say anything. They both knew that the elderly physician thought it was funny.

Gwen and Morgana make sure to see him out of the castle gates with big hugs, and whilst all of the knights were meant to be training, it came as no surprise to anyone when Gwaine slacks off for half a candle-mark to say goodbye as well. Mordred shoots him a quick goodbye across their mental link as the servant walks away from the city, after promising Merlin that he would warn him if anyone was in any serious danger (”Serious danger only, Mordred, I mean it. If I get called home because Arthur is throwing some sort of tantrum, then I’ll act out your destiny for you.”).

Merlin’s journey goes smoothly. The world was hovering in the junction between Spring and Summer, but with a little magical manipulation, the Warlock had no trouble staying warm and keeping his feet beneath him on the uneven path. Unsurprisingly, the young man is a lot less clumsy when he doesn’t have to focus on keeping his magic locked away so tightly.

Two days after his departure from Camelot, his mother is greeting him outside her little house with a long hug and a wide grin, stroking a hand through his hair as she welcomes him home.

Coincidentally, that’s also about the time things started going to shit for everyone else.

It was just after noon when Elyan had to be carried to Gaius’ chambers, his whole body juddering as he struggles to draw breath, the lack of oxygen from his throat closing up mixed with the panic making his brain go fuzzy.

Percival holds him up from one side and Leon holds him from the other, the two of them bursting through the physician’s door just as Elyan’s eyes roll back in his head. Gaius looks up suddenly, obviously startled by the abrupt intrusion, but he swiftly focuses, eyes wide and assessing as he quickly points them to a patient pallet:

“What happened?”

The two knights lay him down as carefully as they can before standing out of the way as Leon forces out an answer, trying to catch his breath between words:

“I don’t know, servants brought lunch out whilst we were training so we stopped to eat and he just started... wheezing. We thought he was choking at first but he said he couldn’t breathe. Has... has he been poisoned? We stopped everyone from eating.”

Gaius had gathered a handful of odd looking dried leaves the moment Leon mentioned the food, recognising the symptoms of an allergic reaction and putting two and two together immediately. He crushes them in his hands quickly, knowing he didn’t have time for a proper mortar and pestle as he shoves the crumbs into Elyan’s mouth, following through with a vile of something green and gross-smelling

He massages the odd concoction down Elyan’s throat as best he can around the swelling, and lets out a relieved smile when the knight’s eyes blow wide open and he chokes slightly before swallowing it all, grimacing at the taste but breathing deeply as his airways open again.

Leon and Percival let out similar breathes of relief when Elyan begins breathing again, chuckling breathlessly at his disgusted groan. The door bursts open again before anyone can say anything, and Arthur strides in, his flushed cheeks and rumpled clothes implying he had sprinted across the castle in his panic.

He spots Elyan on the pallet, his deep breaths interspersed with the odd cough, and his eyes widen even further as he looks to Gaius for an explanation:

“A servant told me something was wrong, what happened?!”

The King loses a little of the tension in his shoulders when Elyan waves a thumbs-up in his vague direction, but still looks frantically between the two knights and the physician as he waits for an answer. Percival wordlessly moves to Elyan’s side, running a hand up and down the man’s arm as Leon looks to Gaius expectantly:

“He had an allergic reaction, likely to nuts in the food. He should be fine, but he needs a day or two of rest, and to come back to me immediately if his throat swells again.”

Arthur sags in relief, nodding his approval of Elyan’s needed bedrest, but Leon’s eyes go wide as he lets out a knowing noise:

“Of course! I forgot about his allergy, it hasn’t been an issue since we were kids.”

Gaius nods knowingly and begins reorganising the jars he had knocked over when the knights had startled him:

“Hmm. I imagine he watched what he ate carefully when he was travelling, but Merlin keeps an eye on all of your food now.”

Leon frowns slightly as he tilts his head in confusion, but Arthur beats him to the punch, asking incredulously:

“What do you mean, Merlin keeps an eye on our food?”

Gaius raises an eyebrow, holding in his smirk as he slowly replies:

“Well, Merlin is usually the one to bring food out to you when you train, is he not? And on days he can’t he always speaks with the kitchen staff to double check what food is going where. Sir Elyan is not the only one with an allergy, My Lord. Merlin always makes sure any food the seven of you are given is safe. He has a tendency to check the Lady Morgana’s meals as well, whenever he’s able.”

Arthur is too taken aback to reply, his mouth hanging open, but that is when Percival looks up from his place at Elyan’s side, a confused frown on his face:

“Why?”

Gaius doesn’t manage to hold his smile in at that, looking between the three knights, and Elyan, who has just about managed to regain his breath:

“To avoid situations like this, I imagine, and to check for poison. It’s not uncommon for assassins to try and lace the royal’s food with something or other.”

Arthur finally shuts his mouth, only to open it again, speaking slowly:

“So... Merlin checks all of our food?”

Gaius nods:

“Religiously, Sire.”

Leon and Percival just shrug, adding it to their list of Weird Things About Merlin That They Should Be Grateful For, and Elyan smiles goofily from his place on the bed (whether it was the lack of oxygen or something funky in the vial, the knight didn’t know, but he was definitely still feeling a little... odd), but Arthur just frowns deeper, muttering a distracted “Take it easy.” to Elyan before walking stiffly from the room.

The King makes quick work of the journey back to the council meeting, desperately trying to persuade himself that this was nothing to do with him not being able to cope without Merlin. Elyan was the one not coping, clearly. Merlin was still wrong and stupid and Arthur hadn’t even noticed that he was gone until Gaius brought him up (a lie, he missed him terribly, but shhh).

Leon and Percival look to Gaius in confusion when Arthur had almost stormed from the room, and the Physician simply smiles again, the amusement shining clearly in his eyes:

“Merlin persuaded Arthur to let him take a holiday by heavily implying that he couldn’t cope with Merlin’s absence.”

Percival snorts with laughter and Leon raises an eyebrow as he grins:

“Arthur took that as a challenge then, I suppose? Two days in and we’ve already got The King sprinting from meetings because a knight has collapsed from an allergic reaction... because Merlin wasn’t here...”

Gaius just nods, and Percival mutters an amused:

“This will be entertaining.”

Arthur steadfastly refuses to acknowledge that the next mini disaster, a few days later, was also down to Merlin’s absence.

Ok, so maybe it was because Merlin wasn’t here, but ultimately, it was Gwaine that messed up, not Arthur. So it didn’t count.

The knight came back from a night patrol that he’d taken with The King with an infected gash on his arm. Arthur grins teasingly as he describes to Gaius how the knight had tripped on a loose cobblestone and scratched his arm on the sharp edge of a stray cart at the beginning of the patrol, and Gaius hums disapprovingly as he unwraps the scrap of fabric Gwaine had used as a bandage:

“Did you not have any medical supplies in your pack? Or did you think it best to let it get infected so I had to wake an hour before dawn to deal with it?”

Gwaine swings his dangling legs back and forth from where he sits on Gaius’ table, pouting sheepishly as he admits:

“I looked, but there wasn’t anything helpful in there, usually the armoury-hands have them stocked up for the patrols, I guess they missed mine.”

Arthur rolls his eyes at Gwaine’s seeming ineptitude, but his scolding is interrupted before it even begins when Gaius shakes his head in disagreement:

“Hmm. The servants that work in the armoury only tend to check the packs every few weeks, and even then they only check if they need any repairs. Merlin is the one with easier access to patrol rotas, so he’s the one who stocks them up on a day to day basis.”

Gwaine just nods in understanding, as if he should’ve expected that, but Arthur’s smile drops as he unfolds his arms, getting over his annoyed speechlessness in a matter of seconds:

“You’re telling me that Merlin, my personal manservant, is responsible for all the knights’ patrol packs?”

Gaius finishes cleaning Gwaine’s wound, muttering a quiet apology when the knight hisses at the first poke of the needle, speaking slowly as he focuses on making sure the stitches were neat and uniform:

“No, Sire. Technically the knights are meant to take care of their own packs, but Merlin is a paranoid man, he likes to double check things to make sure everyone has what they need. I suppose some people got used to having it done for them.”

Gwaine winces abashedly, making a mental note to remind the others to check their packs before their next patrols, but Arthur rolls his eyes, crossing his arms again and immediately accepting that this little incident was therefore Gwaine’s fault, and not down to Merlin's absence.

The voice in his head sounded a little doubtful, but he ignores it, choosing instead to chide his rebellious:

“Do try to pay attention to your own responsibilities, Sir Gwaine, I’d hate to see something terrible happen to you because you’re unable to complete your own simple tasks.”

Gwaine just sticks his tongue out petulantly, looking away from The King before he can see the blonde’s rolled eyes. Arthur huffs at his childishness, turning around to cover his grin and speaking over his shoulder as he walks from the room:

“You will be on time for once, Gwaine, training starts in a few hours and I want to see you bright and early.”

Gwaine just smirks, waiting for the door to shut behind Arthur before moving his sly, curious eyes to the physician in front of him:

“He’s missing Merlin, then?”

Gaius just gives him a knowing glance before looking back down at the now stitched gash, gathering bandages:

“I’d imagine so, though he’d never admit it. Merlin implied that Arthur wouldn’t cope with his absence,-”

Gwaine interrupts him with a laugh:

“Hence his insistence that it was entirely my fault?”

Gaius nods wordlessly, and Gwaine snorts, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

Meanwhile, Arthur stalks back towards his chambers, eager to get out of his armour and get into bed; Gwaine had training in a few hours, but so did he, and he needed at least a little sleep. He purses his lips in annoyance as his gaze falls upon the clinical cleanliness of his room... George had been in then.

Look... Arthur being used to a slightly messy room did NOT mean he depended on Merlin. And Gwaine not being used to having to actually organise himself ALSO didn’t mean that Merlin was... ok. Maybe Gwaine relies on Merlin a little.

So that’s Sir Elyan and Sir Gwaine, two of The King’s most trusted knights, who can’t cope without Merlin. But Arthur is doing just fine. It’s been half a week and he is just. Fine.

Just fine.

It was the next day that things began going wrong a little more... drastically.

George wakes Arthur up for training on time because of course he does. Arthur had found himself losing out on a lot of sleep without Merlin insisting he go to bed at a reasonable time, and waking him up late; Merlin had gotten into the habit of snatching Arthur’s paperwork away and holding it out of reach until The King agreed to go to sleep, and somehow manages to fit Arthur’s entire morning routine into half a candle-mark. George would never snatch away Arthur’s paperwork, and he takes so much longer in the mornings meaning Arthur has to wake up earlier.

Not that Arthur would ever admit to enjoying his and Merlin’s unorthodox routines.

Eight more days to go, and he’s fine.

At least... that’s what he thought until a nameless guard approaches the training field, waving him over from his spar with Mordred. Arthur strides over quickly, annoyed at the interruption and nodding at the guard to speak as he drinks from his water-skin:

“My Lord, Lord Halbert and Lady Ethel have arrived. I believe they’re waiting for your presence in the courtyard.”

Arthur chokes, managing to turn his head to the side just in time before he spits a mouthful of water over the guards face. He quickly wipes his mouth and turns back to the pour armoured man with wide eyes:

“That’s today?!

The guard nods hesitatingly:

“Yes, Sire, would you like me-”

He’s interrupted when Arthur shouts a hurried:

“Fuck!” as he drops his water-skin and begins sprinting up the field towards the castle, desperately trying to calculate if he had enough time to wash and change before they got antsy with waiting. Probably not.

Seeing Arthur’s panic and hearing his loud curse, Leon hurriedly approaches the guard, putting a friendly hand on his shoulder as he speaks with a frown:

“Gavin? Is everything alright?”

The guard, Gavin, looks to Leon with a confused frown:

“It would appear that His Majesty... misremembered the date of Lord Halbert and Lady Ethel’s arrival.”

Leon’s eyes go wide and he glances quickly to the castle as he rushes out an exclamation identical to Arthur’s:

“That’s today?!”

Gavin just nods again, and Leon drops the hand from his shoulder, letting out a loud:

“Shit!” as he recreates Arthur’s sprint up to the castle, knowing that he was expected to be at The King’s side when welcoming guests. He doesn’t pause, even when he shouts:

“Lancelot’s in charge!” over his shoulder.

The knights all look to each other in amusement, but Lancelot quickly takes charge, running drills as if he had been doing it his entire life and trusting that, whatever it was, Arthur could get things sorted. And if Arthur couldn’t get things sorted, then Leon would get things sorted. And if Leon couldn’t get things sorted, then Merlin would... oh.

He glances worriedly to the castle just as Leon falls through the door, not bothering to shut it behind him in his panic. Oh.

Arthur lets out the deepest breath of relief he thinks he’s ever experienced when he sees George ahead of him in the corridor; he gestures him over hastily, making the servant jog to keep up with him as he continues his fast pace down the hall:

“I don’t care how many other servants you have to pull from their duties, but I need the castle prepped for Halbert and Ethel’s arrival right now.-”

Arthur barely pays attention to George’s faltering step of shock, just stops suddenly in front of the door that leads down to the courtyard, turning to the servant and putting both hands on his shoulder as he stares at him intensely, face flushed and breathing harsh:

“I need you to do this for me, George. Prepare guest chambers, send someone down to show them to the right rooms, and make sure the Kitchens know they’re feeding two extra nobles for three days, starting today. If you can organise all of that in the next two minutes, I’ll give you a raise and a Godamn hug, you hear me?!”

George gulps, his shoulders tense, his face pale, and his breath frozen in his lungs as he meets Arthur’s frantic gaze with wide eyes. He gives a shaky nod, instantly turning and sprinting down the corridor without a word when Arthur lets go.

Leon skids around the corner, moving to stand next to Arthur with his hands on his knees as he attempts to catch his breath, speaking in a slight wheeze:

“I... I left Lance... in charge.”

Arthur nods in approval, pulling Leon to stand before holding his hands out to the side, presenting himself for inspection. Leon takes one last deep breath, smoothing the training tunic over Arthur’s shoulders, attempting to rub the dirt from his nose, and brushing a quick hand through his hair before stepping back and holding his own arms out. Arthur pulls a leaf from behind his ear, but is otherwise satisfied, and the two of them turn to the door, schooling their faces and stepping down into the courtyard.

Arthur has a calm, welcoming smile on his face, and Leon stands stiffly behind him, hand on the sword that he luckily had on his hip as he stares blankly ahead.

The nobles seem taken aback at The King's state of undress, but don’t say anything, covering their shock quickly. Arthur’s hoping that his friendly attitude will just give the impression that he’s...approachable and slightly laid back, as opposed to just an idiot who forgot they were coming because no one had reminded him.

Gods. Merlin can never know about this.

Thankfully, the next three days went smoothly, or at least as smoothly as possible after Arthur spent an hour rifling through his old mail to try and figure out the original reason for Lord Halbert and Lady Ethel’s visit (watching their eldest’s knighting ceremony, and discussing with Arthur the potential for their youngest to move to the city to become a squire).

He waves them off in a much more regal manner than he had welcomed them, and keeps his promise to George, upping his pay slightly; though he exchanges the hug for an awkward pat on the shoulder, which he thinks both of them were grateful for.

He’d successfully made it through nine days. Semi-successfully. He’d just about made it through nine days.

Five more to go. But Arthur was feeling fine about those five days. He’d double checked all his mail, and made sure to find out when his patrols were scheduled.

Which is... unknown to Arthur, where the next problem stems from.

Arthur wasn’t the one to rota the patrols, he really didn’t have the time to sit down with a list of names and hours and times and maps and organise everything fairly, it was difficult and time-consuming, but he made sure that Leon knew exactly how many hours he could give up for patrol each week.

Apparently, the communication between Leon and the council was normally handled by Merlin, who wasn’t there. So whilst Arthur was enjoying a solo patrol along the city borders at noon, waving at citizens and making his horse do tricks for giggling children, the council were sitting around the table, waiting rather irately for his arrival.

Now normally, this could’ve been easily dealt with, but when the same guard from three days ago gallops over to inform him of the problem and take over his patrol, Arthur was reminded rather suddenly that Merlin was always the one that came up with sensible sounding excuses.

(He also makes a mental note to avoid that guard forever out of embarrassment.)

This was one of the very rare occasions when Arthur simply glares the council into submission. Normally he likes to work with them; he hates to feel like they're just doing what he wants because they were kissing his arse, but he has no excuse other than “I forgot.” and he felt like that was worse than just.. acting like a bit of a dick for five minutes.

So... yeah. Merlin wasn’t there to reorganise the council meeting around Arthur’s patrol, and then also wasn’t there to come up with an excuse for why it wasn’t reorganised.

Arthur makes it ten days before he admits to himself that perhaps he relies on his manservant just a little too much.

Four days later, Arthur had missed another council meeting (despite his best efforts), Lancelot and Mordred had accidentally insulted some visiting Lord (and had therefore been told not to leave their rooms until he had vacated the city), and Gwen was no longer speaking to him, on account of The King being a dick without realising because Merlin wasn’t there to rein in his ego and... well... dickishness. That, and his crown had somehow gone missing between yesterday morning and now.

(If that last one had happened even a week prior, Arthur would’ve been adamant that it had been stolen or something else equally not-his-fault, but with how quickly he’d been made aware of his apparent bad memory and social clumsiness, he had every faith that he’d just misplaced it, and Merlin would know exactly where to look.)

Arthur was sitting on the courtyard steps, tunic unlaced at the top and hair a mess when his servant finally, finally walks through the castle gates. The King perks up slightly, but refuses to give Merlin the satisfaction of being run to, so forces himself to remain in place. He was especially glad that he’d made that decision when he saw Guinevere spring over to greet him. He has a feeling she won’t be all that... welcoming, at least not yet.

Merlin wraps her in a tight hug and Arthur forces down the swell of jealousy in his lungs, especially when he laughs brightly and pulls back to clasp her shoulders. Arthur sees Gwen’s face fall at a question Merlin had asked and he gulps, biting his lip when Merlin frowns and raises an incredulous eyebrow at her response. She points in Arthur’s direction, and The King’s eyes go wide as he rapidly stands, failing miserably at looking as though he weren’t staring in their direction. Guinevere rolls her eyes before giving Merlin one last hug and walking very deliberately in the opposite direction to Arthur.

Merlin marches towards him, slight annoyance mixing with a secret eagerness to check on Arthur speeding up his normal pace significantly. Before the servant can say anything, Arthur grabs his wrist, pulling him up the steps and through the castle without a word, tugging harshly every time Merlin opens his mouth to demand an explanation for himself or an apology for Gwen.

When they finally reach his chambers, Arthur quickly locks the door behind him, whirling on an angry Merlin with flushed cheeks and a desperate look in his eyes:

“I swear Merlin, I will never doubt you again, but Elyan almost died, Gwaine got an infection, Leon and I forgot about Ethel and Halbert, Lancelot and Mordred are essentially under house arrest, I missed two council meetings, lost my crown, and now Gwen’s not talking to me. You’re never allowed to leave me again.”

Merlin freezes in place, staring at Arthur with wide eyes and an open mouth for a few moments before he bursts into laugher. Arthur huffs, crossing his arms as his blush deepens, but waits patiently instead of demanding that Merlin stop. Honestly? He may have been laughing at Arthur, but it was still the most beautiful sound The King had heard in two weeks, and he’d definitely missed it. Which is... something to think about at a later date.

Merlin finally relents, his dimples showing prominently as he holds in another round of giggles at Arthur’s red face. The servant drops his pack to the floor, stepping forward and not giving Arthur time to move away before he pulls him into a tight hug, sighing contentedly at the warm contact:

“I missed you too, you prat. You’ll just have to come with me next time and we can leave Gwen and Gaius in charge.”

Arthur huffs out a gentle laugh, finally wrapping his arms around Merlin’s middle tightly and burying his face in the slightly taller man’s hair:

“I did. Miss you, I mean. And I also mean it when I say you’re never going anywhere without me again, this has been a nightmare.”

Merlin snorts, tightening his grip on Arthur as if he were trying to squeeze all of the stress out of him:

“Co-dependency isn’t the healthiest thing in the world, you know.”

Arthur just huffs, refusing to let go as he petulantly responds:

“I don’t care. I’m The King, I can do what I want.”

Arthur can almost feel Merlin rolling his eyes, but the servant just laughs again and seems to nod in agreement:

“Hmm. That excuse is going to come back to haunt you one day. Heard you gave George a raise?”

The blonde tenses in embarrassment, now refusing to pull away so Merlin wouldn’t see his pink cheeks:

“Uh... yeah. He cleans too much and is shit at coming up with plausible excuses, but he did save my arse a few times.”

Arthur can feel Merlin’s laugh vibrate through his ribcage, and though the man was usually rather touch averse, he found he never wanted the feeling to stop. He found himself hoping that Merlin felt the same when The King chuckles at his response:

“Oh yeah? Does that mean I get a raise for being good at excuses and bad at cleaning?”

THE END!!!

Literally wrote this in one day so... sorry if it’s bad😅

Had no clue how I was going to end it until I got there, my thought process essentially just went “Hugs? Yeah. Hugs hugs hugs hugs hugs.” :D

Same as always lads, you wanna write it out in full or remix it or whatever, go for it, just drop me a message and credit/tag me :)

2K notes · View notes

coldprimavera · 3 years

Text

Thread by @wwxwashere on Twitter

⚠️ WHAT IS HAPPENING IN BRAZIL: a thread ⚠️

am i going insane or more of the world should care about a country generating covid variants that could spread internationally? right

spoiler alert: covid is killing us. badly. no, it's not this bad everywhere. yes, you should care.

our government is DELIBERATELY and CLEARLY trying to kill us, not only not doing anything but actually trying to stop any help from getting here, with censorship to go with it.

PLEASE, READ RHIS THREAD

it's NOT this bad everywhere:

"No other nation that experienced such a major outbreak is still grappling with record-setting death tolls and a health care system on the brink of collapse."

yes, you SHOULD care:

"Preliminary studies suggest that the variant that swept through the city of Manaus is not only more contagious, but it also appears able to infect some people who have already recovered from other versions of the virus."

you REALLY should care:

"And the variant has slipped Brazil’s borders, showing up in two dozen other countries and in small numbers in the United States."

1 in every 4 covid deaths WORLDWIDE is happening in brazil, INTERNATIONAL MEDIA ISN'T TALKING ABOUT THIS ENOUGH.

our president?

- calling it "a little flu"

- literally making trying to legally stop states from lockdown

- blocked any attempts to get vaccines here for months

- recommended meds with no scientific proof which caused SEVERAL other deaths for overuse of improper meds

he refuses to wear a mask in public but it's not just the things he isn't doing, it's the deliberate steps he takes to make sure ANYONE who tries to do ANYTHING to help (even the US!!!!!!!! OFFERING US VACCINES FOR MONTHS!!!!!!!!!!!!) is shut down.

we have no oxygen. no ICU beds. no proper masks. basic food is so expensive here the country is falling back to hunger, so whoever is not dying from covid is dying out of starvation or due to the complete and utter collapse of our healthcare system.

if you read the articles i post here you will know brazil has a RECORD of being GREAT in this type of scenario & getting vaccines to everyone fast as fuck.

this is a DELIBERATE ATTEMPT TO KILL US, i couldn't possibly stress that enough.

who is it killing? take a guess.

"The study also found that Black Brazilians were likelier to lose their jobs or face pay cuts than white people during the pandemic. The death rate in poorer cities has been substantially higher than in rich ones."

BY JANUARY OF THIS YEAR the ny times was reporting "The country has not yet approved any of the vaccines on the market."

NOT EVEN APPROVED. ANY. OF THE VACCINES.

this isn't a tragedy, this is our government's plan.

again, why are people not helping? i have no clue.

"On Friday, officials at the World Health Organization called the surge of cases in Brazil deeply troubling and warned that it could wreak havoc well beyond the country’s borders."

censorship? oh yeah, the president's son is trying to silence a guy who made a TWEET calling the president out. & that was only news not a shady unexplainable death bc the guy is famous and rich in the first place.

this is not the only threat he has made, btw. during his CAMPAIGN he said he'd kill people who opposed his government. that is how low we are.

10,3MI brazilians might starve to death and things are only getting worse:

have i proven my point? cuz honestly there is no lack of evidence, but i can go graphic if you need to hear what happens when a patient needs oxygen or an ambulance and our hospitals can't provide it.

no? yeah. better not.

"ok but what can we do"

TALK. ABOUT. THIS.

WHY IS NOBODY TALKING ABOUT THIS.

WHY IS THIS NOT EVERYWHERE.

WHY IS NOBODY HELPING.

i literally feel crazy, as if this is only happening in my head. every brazilian i know is desperate and nobody cares.

"ok but what else"

we need donations, badly. money for food, masks, literally all supplies. if you are a single person guess what THERE ARE NO ORGANISED WAY TO HELP YET you literally need to find a brazilian or learn portuguese to be able to get to local donations centres.

have i mentioned nobody cares? how is a country going through this massive of a crisis with a government trying to kill and silence us yet there people barely heard about this???? given IT IS CREATING DEADLY VARIANTS THAT ARE SPREADING BEYOND BORDERS

oh my god i feel insane

special call-out for portugal & also the US for fucking us up historically

https://t.co/JQ9LBkfSIV

per request i will make an english speaking video about brazil's covid situation to be posted @ youtube.com/c/AndressaBuss later this week

🌟DONATIONS LINKS🌟

update: if you want to place a donation to @CUFA_Brasil or @maesdafavela i will offer free portuguese-english translations to help with the process.

email me @ [email protected] (i can't keep up with DMs here)

You can also try to finda artists or writers or professionals in brazil and hire them! or tip them a kofi! Or simply search for "brazil" in the search and help out by sending one dollar or two in kofi or gofundmes that will also help brazilians staying safe

i will keep linking more as i find it. donation centre to get basic food to people who need it: https://t.co/gFZdskBE6G

Update: finally managed to get an extensive list of options for donations after over 24hrs trying, from jun last year so some campaigns have ended but there's still plenty to choose from

(again: im available for free translations & help in your donation process if you need it)

just assisted in a R$740 donation process to the above donation centre & i am working on putting together a list of various options for donations as well as brazilian artists who are making emergency commissions :)

im mostly trying to assist people place the donations themselves & when i have to place the donation i offer vast proof (of whatever kind you need) of each transaction

im not a random account with no face behind it, im a broke history teacher who has covid, im trying to help

Thread by @wwxwashere on Twitter

And before i forget:

BOLSONARO GENOCIDA!

#Brazil #Brasil #COVID-19 #USA #Help #Donations #We Need to Talk About #Government #Black Lives Matter #Boost #Signal Boost #Very Important #Donations Links #We Need To Talk About Brazil #Bolsonaro Genocida #long post

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emiewritesthings · 3 years

Text

doctor, doctor - jay halstead

jay halstead x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n takes it into her own hands to look after a sick jay

a/n: i’m not gonna lie i think this is one of my fav things i’ve ever written, i would really appreciate some feedback and p.s the beginning of it is based on that scene from brooklyn 99 :)

masterlist

“okay, it’s 10 o’clock, meaning halstead is officially an hour late to work,” y/n announced as she appeared from the break room with a mug of poorly made coffee. looking around, she had immediately distracted everyone in the room with her playful smile. “okay let’s do this, theories!” she encouraged, taking a sip with excitement, but immediately regretting it as s he spat it back in the mug and abandoned it on adam’s desk as she leant against it.

“uh, he forgot to set his alarm?” antonio suggested, willing to play along with the little game that y/n had created. however clearly his answer didn’t suffice as y/n scrunched up her nose and shook her head in disappointment.

“you are a detective in a unit that just last week rescued 5 people kidnapped and used as chess pieces in a human sized version of the game and the best you could come up with is he forgot to set his alarm? pfft, disappointing, dawson. who’s willing to take this seriously?” she scoffed, brushing his idea off with a simple roll of the eyes as the group laughed at her ridiculousness.

“maybe he has been murdered by a gang looking for revenge.” adam piped up, earning a sudden and rather forceful slap on the back as y/n cheered. her eyes looking over at antonio as she gestured towards the less experienced detective.

“yes, that’s what i’m talking about. bit dark, ruzek, but better than dawson’s,” y/n hummed, adam clearly pleased with the praise he had received by the pretty detective. “any one else wanna shot?” she offered it out into the room, suddenly the sound of rolling wheels on the chair had everyone turn to face al who was munching on a ham sandwich.

“he walked into the middle of a drug ring, slept with the kingpins daughter and is now having limbs removed, one by the hour.” suddenly an eery silence fell in the bullpen as al suddenly disappeared back to his desk and everyone was left with an image that she was sure was burned on the inside of everyones mind.

“uh, okay, someone might want to arrange a psych check for olinsky asap,” y/n mumbled, pointing in the direction where he had once been and looking around as if checking that she hadn’t been the only one to hear al’s suggestion. “anyways, all of you are wrong. clearly he has joined a motorbike gang and now makes his money on the road striking off names on the government’s hit list.”

just as the room erupted into discussion about how idiotic this conversation was, as well as their ideas, the sound of footsteps caught y/n’s attention as she arrived at her desk. however as he reached the floor, the reason for his absence was clear.

“woah, you look like death.” adam chuckled, it immediately being silenced as jay sent a deadly glare his way. with his skin paler than normal with undertones of green, a layer of sweat draped over his forehead. jay flashed as smile at y/n as he passed, reaching his desk and collapsing on his chair with a wince.

as everyone went back to what they were doing, y/n found herself straying her eyes away from her computer screen for longer and longer periods of time until she found herself by his side with a sickly sweet grin, pun intended.

“i don’t wanna hear it, y/l/n.” jay mumbled, massaging his temples with his fingers hoping it would somehow sooth his pounding skull. whilst usually he had every minute of his day just to hear the woman chat away about whatever crossed her mind, he had found himself in quite the state since last night, leaving him restless and irritable.

“believe it or not, i just wanted to make sure you were alright,” y/n’s entire demeanour crumbled as she melted at the soft features of his face that came with being so vulnerable. but from the look in jay’s eyes, it was clear he didn’t 100% believe her excuse. “and to ask what the hell you think you are doing here? you are sick jay, you need to rest.”

it was very rare that jay found himself ill. in the years that y/n had been working by the man’s side, she could count on one hand the times she had seen him with so much as a cough. in fact she had called him captain immune system for a period of time when she realised he was pretty much indestructible. y/n couldn’t deny the concern bubbling in her gut seeing him so weak.

“i’m fine,” with her eyes slitted in a look that practically shouted ‘bullshit’, jay continued. “i promise, it’s just a little cold. nothing serious, i think i’ll survive.” he joked dryly, finding it incredibly hard to look away from y/n for her eyes were filled with a warmth that he knew was an expression usually saved for those she cared deeply about.

“yeah well, you need to take care of yourself, jay, i’m being serious. chicago can cope if you just have one day off, get your energy back.”

y/n was reminded of the times she had the exact same words spoken to her by the exact person that didn’t seem to want to take them onboard. every time she had so much as a sniffle he would be straight over with some soup that his mother used to swear by and the name of a box set that he would put on for the two of them to watch as he sat stroking her hair in order to try and convince her body to rest. neither of them had anyone else to take care of them, so had taken it upon themselves to be that person for the other.

“now, i’m gonna go tell voight that i’m taking you home before you infect this whole office.” before he could object, she had already ran (not literally but jay was impressed by her speed walking) to her boss’ office. knocking on the door, with a sweet smile and a sea of words running off her tongue so quickly that voight had to agree just to shut her up, y/n returned by his side. “come on, germ face, your carriage awaits.”

“you know i love it when you talk dirty to me, y/l/n.” winking at her, y/n giggled as she supported him back down the stairs and out of the station. the two chatted away, y/n explaining how she thought al was secretly a sociopath and jay filing her in on the newest instalment of his apartment block drama until they pulled up in front of jay’s apartment building.

as they walked through the door, jay’s arm resting around y/n’s shoulders as he struggled to find strength, they managed to reach the sofa before y/n’s body gave up. both of them letting out large breathes before looking at each other and falling into laughter.

“you hungry, i could try making your mom’s soup?” y/n asked, as she pushed herself up to look down at the man. her hair falling down around her face and tickling jay’s skin. “i’m sure it won’t be as good as her’s but i’m willing to give it a try.”

the way she was sat with the large window gleaming light behind her, y/n almost looked like an angel. her eyes and smile were wide, with her beauty wrapping its hands around jay’s neck squeezing until his head felt light and he nearly reached up to touch her porcelain skin. but jay had noticed the sensation way before he was blocked up with a cold.

“yeah, uh, that sounds nice.” jay agreed with a minimal amount of sass, but y/n didn’t seem to notice as she moved off the cushions and towards the kitchen. she had pretty much memorised the recipe when jay had finally given it to her on her birthday after offering to pay for it multiple times. whizzing around the kitchen, she was too busy to notice the tired eyes admiring her from afar.

jay wished his mom was alive to see the woman that she would have loved. all the times he had brought girls back to his family when he was younger didn’t add up to an ounce of the beauty and power that y/n held in her middle finger. the way she bit back at his wit, but also had the ability to spot when he was upset from the other side of the city. she was everything her mother wanted in a daughter in law, everything she wanted for her little boy.

“okay, give me your honest opinion. i can take it i promise.” y/n sudden appeared with a tray that held a large bowl of the semi-thick orange liquid, a glass of water and a couple pills. approaching jay, she carefully helped him up from where he laid and placed it onto his lap. “actually that was a complete lie, do not tell me the truth. i may just cry.”

“why thank you, nurse y/l/n.” he teased.

“it’s doctor actually.” she quipped back.

jay chuckled lowly, as he grabbed the spoon and took a large spoonful to his mouth. feeling the slight sting of his tongue at the heat, it was only when the flavours hit that he was suddenly transported to an earlier time in his life. a simpler time. only this time there was y/n by his side.

“the verdict?” she prompted, taking a seat besides him, pulling her knees up to her chest.

“not sure whether i want to tell you, don’t think you’ll fit in this room if your ego grows any bigger.” y/n grinned as she leaned over to press a kiss against his shoulder. jay closed his eyes at the contact, feeling the ache in his body freeze for a moment as it registered the tingling sensation. “all jokes aside, it really is good.”

“i’m glad, your mother was a smart woman.” she nodded, leaning forward to turn tv on. jay continued to spoon the soup into his mouth, as y/n chose a show that they both had started together and had refused to watch another minute without the other. y/n leaned back making herself comfortable, having already texted voight telling him that she would most likely need the entire day off, and getting the go ahead, she had no plans other than being by jay’s side for the next however many hours.

it was sometime in the early evening and the tv continued to emit light, but neither jay nor y/n was paying any attention to the drama. jay, with his head on y/n lap, was leaning into her touch as her short, thin fingers ran through the dark strands that sprouted from his scalp. his body wrapped in a blanket that y/n had grabbed from his room, he felt completely at peace.

“you know what, i think you are more bearable when you are at death’s door.” y/n joked quietly, as the forest green eyes were exposed back to her own. jay groaned in annoyance, realising that there was no sweet y/n without the sharped tongue y/n. a trait he adored, but at his own expense.

“and to think i was starting to think you had gone soft on me, y/l/n.” he hummed, wishing he could forever have her giggle on repeat wherever he went, for the sound made goosebumps run down his neck and down his arms, like some kind of magic that only y/n possessed.

“as much as i love you, i can’t risk my bad ass reputation for you.”

although jay was sure it was just part of her banter, the moment the ‘i love you’ fell off her tongue, he found himself wide awake, unable to push past the feeling in his gut as it looped over again and again in his mind. y/n could see the conflict in his face, as he glanced up at her with something she had never noticed before.

“you mean it?” he asked.

“mean what?” confused, her fingers fell from his hair, making jay regret ever opening his mouth.

“do you really, you know, love me?” he knew he had committed too far to try and retreat. maybe he could blame it on the fact he couldn’t think straight, although she was like a lie detector that wouldn’t let such a bogus excuse pass. y/n blinked down at him, watching as he sat up to look at her with a hunger that needed to be addressed. swallowing the lump in her throat, y/n nodded.

“of course, you are one of my best friends, jay.” it was true, but it wasn’t the full truth, both of them knew that.

“i didn’t realise we had started lying to one another,” jay’s eyes were soft, as he reached to place his hand against her cheek, smiling as she slowly leaned into it. closing her eyes, she tried to find what direction she was looking for, but didn’t dare take the first step. without even thinking, jay jutted forward and captured her lips before they could form a single syllable.

gently, but passionately, jay and y/n moved their lips against the others. the feeling was ever-growing as the kiss deepened and deepened until they had no choice to pull back, deprived of their ability to breath. as jay’s eyes came back into view, y/n, for the first time in her life, had lost the ability to form a sentence.

“we just...” she began but it ran off quickly. jay chuckled.

“we did.”

the two sat in silence, examining the other one’s face until y/n found herself moving forward until she was sat in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist as she pressed her lips against his. just like before their bodies and minds were set ablaze with desire and what had remained unspoken for what felt like forever. jay had nearly completely forgotten about the illness that had put him in the care of the woman that he craved more than anything else the world had to offer.

as their lips parted ways, suddenly the air had thinned and everything felt... normal. jay’s lips were unable to break out of the large grin mould that y/n had put them in, which was soon mirrored by the young woman. a small giggle escaping her lips.

“if i get whatever it is you have, i expect the exact same treatment.”

“only for you, doctor y/l/n.”

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years

Note

Is it possible that you write a fiction in which Hero and Villain are on a road escape somewhere not their country and they couldn’t speak the local language, but Villain is hiding his injury until he passes out from fever and Hero has no idea what to do in a foreign country and in the center of nowhere?

I'm so sorry this took so long. This is a lovely ask and I hope you enjoy it.

Out of State

@the-sky-writes

Warnings: fever, delirium, exhaustion, hiding injury, passing out, pus/infected wound, injured character

*not edited*

Hero looked to the passenger seat only to see Villain's head hanging as he lightly dozed off. She sighed, he was exhausted, as was her, but she just woke up from her own nap so it was her turn to drive.

"Villain," Hero murmured as she pressed the gas pedal. "Why don't you go and lay down?"

"Mm," he mumbled, squeezing his eyes before opening them. "No... I'll stay... h-here wit you." His voice dropped to a drawl as his heavy tongue struggled to form the words.

"Villain c'mon," Hero pleaded, but Villain only shifted in his seat, resting his forehead against the window. Before long, any tension in his muscles dripped away and he was completely limp.

Hero sighed. She was beyond worried about him. For the past few days, after Supervillain attacked them during their own fight, Villain and Hero have been running away from the angry claws of Supervillain's henchmen. They passed through many towns and cities, briefly stopping to fuel Villain's sportcar up and get food.

But Villain had been running himself ragged- driving for hours into the night until he was practically sleeping and veering off the road, refusing to let Hero investigate a road stop before they pull in, and also his blatant stubbornness when it came to staying awake.

Though now Villain was out like a light. Not even the bumps in the road roused him from his deep slumber. Which, Hero thought with a smile, is a really good thing. He needs rest.

Hero drew her attention to the road. Reading the road signs, she found that a gas station was only a couple miles away. It would be- Hero glanced down at the sleeping villain- very nice to gather some food for him when he woke up.

Hero pressed on the pedal, mentally begging the car to go faster. She slumped into her seat, impatiently tapping her fingers on the steering wheel in an awkward pattern.

Before long, Hero pulled up to the eerie looking gas station. No cars were present- other than a old-looking navy blue van. The small building was alight with bright neon yellow lights, illuminating the small station as dusk dawned.

Hero pulled in, positioning the car to a pump and proceeded to fuel up. All the while, she observed Villain. He was still sleeping, Hero noted the obvious. His mouth was parted, hand strewn below his drooping head serving as a makeshift pillow.

Something about it bugged her. Villain should be awake now. She slammed the door shut, on accident of course, and the car started screaming at her. But he remained deeply asleep.

That was, until Hero shoved her credit card in and slipped back into the driver's seat.

Villain's eyes shot open. He looked around before racing to unbuckle himself. Hero tried to ignore the way his hands shook and focused on his utterly scared face.

"Villain calm down," Hero said, placing her hand on Villain's unnaturally sweaty shoulder.

"No, no, no," he mumbled incoherently. "Supervillain.... Supervillain gonna... onna... k-kill us." Villain slid back into his seat, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before they opened and he rushed out the door.

Hero had barely any time to react before Villain blacked out in the parking lot, his body crumbling like a collapsing brick wall.

Hero started out the door frantically, running to the side where Villain laid unconscious. Her hand rushed to his neck where she felt a steady, but faint, thump-thump of a pulse.

And boy was he burning up. It was only then that Hero noticed his pale, flushed face beaming in the early stages of the moonlight.

Hero sighed as she clenched his wet shirt with her fingers. He had a fever, a very high fever.

"Okay buddy here we go," she said absent-mindly to the unconscious man as she picked him back up and laid him in the back seat of the car. She shut the door and started to examine his weak body.

Upon rolling up his shirt, she found a deep gash running from the middle of his chest to below his right ribcage. Even not conscious, his body involuntarily stiffened under her tender touch. It was filled with pus, capped in an abscess. Hero shuddered, averting her gaze.

He must've gotten injured during Supervillain's assault and that was... four days ago?

He was hiding this for four days.

Fury raged inside Hero, along with a curt feeling of betrayal. But then she remembered that Villain wasn't doing good and it was not time to dwell on emotions. He needed help and fast.

She scrambled to the driver's seat, turned the key and sped back onto the vacant country road.

The speedometer reached 80 before Hero realized that she had no where to take the feverish villain. Her hand wavered over her phone, but then again with Supervillain's tech he could track it and find him at the hospital.

She would have to find a clean place and care for him herself.

After a long five minutes, Hero approached a quaint town. Eagerly, she literally jumped out of the car while it was still moving and galloped over to a young woman picking some basil.

"Hey, hey I need help!" Hero called, running to the white picket fence. The woman looked up at her with a peculiar look on her face, then turned around and continued gardening. She shook her head disapprovingly and tutted.

"Please, my-my...my friend is hurt. He's really sick."

"Skildu mig eftir," the woman suddenly yelled. Hero jolted backwards.

"Can you speak English?"

"Farðu með vandamál þín til lögreglu," the woman continued, waving a dirty carrot in her face. Hero took one look and headed back to the car. In a mad rush, she pulled the limp man out od the car and dragged him to the fence.

"Please," Hero begged. "He's very weak and needs medical help."

But the woman was already headed up to her house, tapping something into her phone.

Hero had thirty seconds before she heard the strident ring of a police car's sirens.

#villain whumpee #hero caretaker #hero x villain #hero x villain community #whump community #hiding injury #supervillain whumper #injured villain #feverish villain #i just scrolled through Google Translate and chose Icelandic for the foreign language #if anyone was wondering

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ellitx · 3 years

Text

Chapter 3: Song of the Ancients

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

previous || next

art belongs to _01ki_

word count: 3k

If someone would ask Venti what happened, he’ll simply give a smile and say it’s nothing. But in this situation, one can feel the uncanny and dangerous aura surrounding him. It’s either they know not to press any further or they’re too naive to understand what’s going on.

It’s unusual for the happy-go-lucky bard to be silent, there’s no doubt about that. His eyes scanned the grass and see if there’s anything out of place there. Something that might be left behind.

In the old ruins of the former city of freedom, there was nothing for his mind to hang onto. There was no familiar sight of you, no sound of your breathing other than the howling of the air. Only the heart beating in his chest stopped him from becoming frozen like Snezhnaya’s landscapes.

When he twirled around to at least see the tracks you have left, there were none. The only way to navigate you was by the sun, birds, and winds.

He bit the inside of his cheek, drawing out blood unwittingly. The taste of iron meeting his tongue brought him out of his mind. He swayed his head and knelt down, feeling the meadow with his fingers.

Calm down, she couldn’t have gone that far.

Right, there’s no need to panic. Maybe you have started wandering the place out of curiosity and see what has changed. He remembered he marked you with Anemo last night, he could try it to track you.

His fingers twirled and called the winds if there would be any signs of your presence nearby. Expecting a response, only silence greeted him.

No gust of the Mondstadt breeze came by to answer him.

He clenched his fists so hard that nails cut into his skin as his brows dug on his front. He called the gales once more and this time he waited a little bit longer. A minute passed, then five minutes and there was still nothing.

In the grip of silent panic, his eyes dilated and his heart began to race. He hoisted himself up from the ground and looked around in sheer distress. Emerald optics meandered everywhere like the wings of a hummingbird.

How could this be? I swear the mark should still remain on her, the effect should last for more than a day.

Venti’s eyes caught the sight of a small orb laying not so far away from where he was standing. He jogged to where the said item was and grabbed it hastily.

It’s the emblem hanging on your dress.

A slight crack can be seen from it. This was his chance if he can see if there would be any anemo marks lingering. He hopes it would. He can’t bring himself to the thought of losing you, let alone letting you wander with dangerous monsters hidden here.

Once again, he used his powers to summon the winds to look for you. Each second that passed by seemed like an hour, and each time they elapsed the more he tightly grips on the insignia.

It didn’t really faze him when the sharp glass cut his skin. What did was the fact there was no response and it reminded him you’re missing. He shouldn’t have left you. He blamed himself for this.

His pulse raced and breathed heavily, almost as if he would burst. He narrowed his eyes at the insignia and threw it to the ground making it shatter into pieces. Not like you would need that anyway, he can just give you an Anemo Vision and he’ll gladly offer it to you if you asked.

It’s better if you hide the identity of being the former Anemo Archon’s daughter. A certain member of the Four Winds will not be so delighted to know about your existence. He opened his palm and silently watched the blood ooze out from his skin, slightly wincing at the stinging sensation.

Venti carelessly wiped it off using his cape and made headway in his search for you. Where could you be in this time and place that are only filled with nothing but ruins? He hardly remembers what this city used to look like before.

Ah, if only you would sing or just talk or anything that’ll allow him to hear your voice, he can definitely find you with ease. His breathing turned shaky and scanned the area if he could see your familiar silhouette.

Not good. [Name], where are you?

Every step he takes, the more the winds are getting colder, sharper, and stronger. Those poor anemo slimes ran away from him in fear, yet some were unfortunate they were struck by the sharp tip of the arrow causing them to burst.

His slender fingers pressed onto the skin of his forearms, nails biting on the layer of fine dust, drawing marks of cuts. How many times had he hurt himself already? He didn’t bother counting it, what matters is finding you as soon as possible.

And lo and behold, they’ve finally heard his urgent calls and wishes of you. He can hear your voice from a distance that is filled with melodious tunes. He searched for where the source of your singing might be coming from.

His eyes brightened up and now he was brimming with hope. It was hypnotizing, almost like he was enamored by your angelic song. He continued to run and run until it was getting louder and louder.

The edges of his lips tugged upwards so widely and he knew he was getting closer. Your voice was smooth and clear and quiet yet powerful. Soothing, in a way. Just the way he loves it. It was the promise of tomorrow, a new hope. It’s so beautiful, he wished that you wouldn’t stop.

He pumped his legs, gaining momentum with each push. At last, he finally found you with your back facing him, but his smile faltered when he saw your hand was caressing the snout of his dear dragon friend.

Turbulence and skepticism were written all over his face.

“Dvalin…?” Since when did he arrive here? He could’ve known he’s back if he saw him flying from the sky, yet why is he not aware of this unannounced sojourn? Your calm and gentle song was put to an end when you made clear of his familiar voice. You turned your head and faced the bard in wonderment.

“Oh, Venti. I didn’t see you there.” You put down your hand and watched him approach the dragon. He petted Dvalin and lightly asked, “When did you come?” He can feel the dragon’s breathing and so he backed away and stood next to you.

“Not too long ago,” Your eyes widened in surprise seeing a dragon talk right in front of you. It was really astonishing for you how you’ve missed so many things in the past years. Your shoulders tensed when his blue flamed eyes were cast towards you.

“Her song… is she the one you’ve always been waiting for?” Venti’s entire body jerked to a standstill unexpectedly. He closed his eyes and smiled as he pulled you close to him.

“Yes. You’ve been wanting to see her as well, right?” You can sense his grip on your waist was put under a little pressure. Observing his hand, you saw how bloody it was that it already stained your white dress.

“Well anyway, it’s good to see you again— huh?” The bard arched his brow when you took his hand and looked at it. “What happened to you? Your hand… it has so many gashes.”

Carefully handling his wounded palm, you looked around the area if you could find any familiar leaves and flowers that could cure and prevent it from infecting any further. Venti’s posture relaxed, softened, marveling at your heedfulness and concern that is only for him.

Maybe this could be a good opportunity for him to get close to you. You always worry about him and treat him every time he’s injured. Normal thoughts barely formed in his mind before they were replaced with the melancholy longing and fantasies of what could be if he were only brave enough to tell you.

The sunshine had no meaning for him unless he could be with you. He daydreamed about every feature of your face, he recalled every way he had never seen you tied your hair and just let it flow freely. He had logged all of your quirky mannerisms to his brain.

Some call it bewitched; Venti calls it love. For there is an emptiness in the freedom of being alone and liberty in being caught by your divine spell. And so when he sees in your eyes the feelings of his heart, it’s like you’ve been connected with him as one.

And if it isn’t some kind of magic you cast on him, then he can’t say what it is.

He leaned forward and nuzzled between your shoulder and neck, whining your name. You yelped in surprise when he lightly bit your skin and sent you featherlight kisses on it.

A slow smile crept up to his face when you square your shoulders in coyness. “Maybe kissing it would heal me?” His breathing tickled your ear as he whispered so closely with a hint of sensuality, almost like it was only for you to be heard.

You puffed your cheeks at his words and slapped his back only for you to earn a chuckle. “I’m being serious,” you groaned. Venti crooned and buried his face deeply, swaying your bodies together.

His gaze faltered to Dvalin who silently watched both of you indifferently. “No need to fret, love. I can simply heal these away in no time.” It was his first time calling you such sweet names. Though, he does hope you wouldn’t mind if he continues giving you more lovely epithets just to see your reaction.

Seeing you fidgety and flustered really made him want to keep you all for himself and attack you with his love; yearning, longing, and adoration. He wanted to show these to you and he knows— he knows very well you also felt the same for him.

The dragon was quiet, that he noticed. The way he looked at both of them made Venti feel uneasy for some reason. “Barbat—“

“Oh! Were you perhaps yearning for her song as well, Dvalin?” The bard immediately queried the wyvern with a smile, however, it sunk and was replaced with an apologetic demeanor. “Maybe [Name] could entertain you later? She’s not yet accustomed here.”

“I’ll show her around first.” His other hand went down to your back and dragged you as he led onwards. Bewilderment was written all over your face when Venti started drawing you away from the blue creature. “Huh? Venti, what about—“

“My hand? No worries, I know a place where we can treat it.” You looked back to the dragon and dubiously allowed him to lead you. It caused your heart to twinge in guilt departing from the dragon friend you have recently been familiar with will be left all alone here.

You watched your feet take steps across the grassy land, your bare feet next to the shined leather shoes of the bard. Venti lightly swayed your arms back and forth together with his legs carrying him quickly to their final destination whilst he hums a tune.

Your stroll ended and you were in front of a pristine lake. A wave of nostalgia washed over you seeing the familiar lagoon. “It brings back memories, right?” Venti started and neared the body of water along with you.

You nodded in affirmation, quite speechless and surprise this was the only area left unscathed. You knelt down on both knees and draped your hand over the liquid, rippling from the slightest of your touch.

It shone like millions of diamonds when each ray of the sun hit the surface. You’ve spotted there were no signs of fish or goose swimming around. It was quite odd though you just brush it off and ignore it.

Venti sat next to you and obliged when you motioned for him to wash his bloodied hand. The water is cold, nothing he can do about that. You took his injured palm while your other hand cupped the water and wash it over to remove the bloodstains.

Drips of red fell down and slowly died out once the pure and clear lake dissolved it. Before you could tear a portion of your dress, he had already stopped you from doing it by grabbing your wrist.

“This should be good enough.” You pressed your lips to a thin line, his words not really assuring your worries. He laughed at your adorable face and squeezed your cheeks playfully. Heaving a sigh in defeat, you leaned against him and propped your head on his shoulder.

You keep an eye on his hand carefully and observe a teal mist surrounding it. The scars started to close up and his skin was clean from stains and wounds as if his palm wasn’t even injured in the first place.

You clasped it with yours and let the tip of your fingers graze over like a fragile diamond. “Can you still kiss it for me?” Venti asked innocently and peered at you pleadingly.

You hummed in thought then smiled, continuing to draw figures around it before entwining your fingers together closely. Venti puckered his lips and whined when you didn’t respond.

Were you teasing him? It made him nervous yet excited at the same time. You notice how his throat bobbed so obviously like he was struggling to gulp down. You were pushing his buttons when your fingers trailed over his arm. He’s captivated by your charms once more and oh how he loves your approach.

You held up his hand close to your lips and gave it a light peck. “There.” You beamed, smiling sweetly at him. You saw the shock registered on Venti’s face before he could hide it. A small smile played on your lips.

It wasn’t what you said though, your words were like vanilla pudding, sweet in their ordinary sort of way, it was the richness of your tone— luxurious and warm. Aside from that, your kiss surprised him the most. He didn’t get that a lot and receiving it from you was like a blessing.

He wriggled himself from you and laid his head on your lap, searching for a comfortable spot until he relaxed against you. And just as he expected, you removed the hair tie from his braided hair and ran a hand through his hair. It’s amazing how you still remember and know what he wants.

Your voice softly echoed in the vast land, singing the previous song he heard before. So sweet, so angelic. His eyelids started to droop, letting himself get lost in your melodic tunes and drift off to wonderland.

—

The lyrics swam through his cerebral cortex like a wakeful dream, the voice relaxing him, enabling the song to call to his entire being. Your singing could never be something superfluous to him, it is medicine delivered in the most divine way.

Before he was awake, a hum saunters in his dream. The gentle tones of you. The humming began to fade until his mind figured out the melody. He had heard so many ballads and sang them before yet this is something he has never encountered in his life.

His eyes gently opened, and there you are wearing your usual sweet smiles. His lips tugged at the sight of your delicate features and caressed your cheek tenderly.

“Your voice... It’s so beautiful. I can listen to it all day.”

There's a kind of blushing that shows the soul, a sort of compliment to the eyes and the delicate sweetness within. It shows a connection, that the smile and shyness come from some deep emotion... and that's a beautiful thing, that's something real.

“I’ve never heard of that song before. Did you compose it yourself?” Your friend asked as he enjoys himself laying on your lap as a pillow. “Not really. My mother always sings this to me.” You answered and resumed playing with his dark hair.

The sound of bell chiming made your head turn to look down at the small wisp wiggling against you. “Oh, did I wake you up?” You questioned while patting its small head.

It shook its head and cuddled on your soft hands letting out a happy ring. “Seems like he loves your song as well.” The bard remarked and lifted himself, stretching his arms to relieve the cramps.

The wind wisp settled himself on your shoulder and twirled joyfully. “I can’t fully comprehend what the lyrics are though. It’s almost…gibberish b-but beautiful nonetheless!” The young male quickly remarked, not wanting to offend you and your song.

You played with the little creature before turning to him. “Ah that. It’s because it’s a forgotten language.” All in all, you weren’t really insulted by his words, rather it amused you.

Not many people know about the ancient and forgotten language, and you yourself don’t even know what the lyrics mean. The words are stuck inside your head like a broken gramophone together with the tune.

“I really like it. It sounds so enchanting especially with your voice.” He commented and grinned at you. A small blush formed on your cheeks and averted your gaze away from him.

Your cheeks are as round as your face. They’re always rosy as if you’re shy all the time, which isn’t a lie at all. There has been only one time when he’d actually seen you ashamed. Not only your cheeks, but he can see clearly the tips of your ears burning red.

He hadn’t known you feel more than you express, until then, when you turn to hide in the most gentle way. What happens next he's going to want to remember for a long time, so while his gaze is soft he doesn't drop his eyes for a moment.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #venti x reader #yandere venti x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fanfictions #genshin impact venti x reader #genshin impact venti #venti #genshin impact reader insert #yandere #tw yandere #elliwrites #Illusory Sense #yandere genshin #venti genshin impact

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twatshag · 3 years

Text

♤ Sakusa kiyoomi's night terrors ♤

Unfaithful. Oh it was just a dream. But why did it feel so real...

Genre: fluff to angst and then back to fluff, smut

Pairing: TIMESKIP both characters!!!!!sakusa x fem reader (in dream atsumu X READER)

Warnings: smut in dream, you cheating in the dream (you wrong for dat sis😩)

M DNI!!!

HIS POV small glimpse of your pov as well

—----------------------------------------------—

What a day. I sighed looking at the clock it was only 5 pm. Y/n was going to be here at 8 pm. I cleaned and already bought groceries for dinner.

I'm quite satisfied with how things looked around the apartment. As of lately y/n decided to bring me some plants and decorations everytime she visited, because in her opinion my apartment looked lifeless and bland.

I smiled softly thinking about tonight. I'm going to ask her to move in with me today. I mean I hope she doesnt mind. Maybe she'll be taken back by my sudden request or oh god what if she rejects me.. ?

I gulped trying to focus on the show I was watching and pushing back all the negative outcomes. She told me about this show during one of our phone calls and told me that I'd definitely enjoy it. She knows me so well, god I can't wait to tell her how much I appreciate her today.

As of lately I've been gathering up the courage to finally tell her that I'm ready to have intercourse with her. She's been so loving and patient this whole time I can't imagine how sweet she is for waiting up 6 months for me. I couldn't imagine if there was anyone who'd be so willing to respect my very picky boundaries but there she was.

I can't help but think about how it would feel for me and her being so close together. And becoming one. I blushed deeply at the thought. After all there Is one benefit of her not living with me.

That's not seeing me blush like this tsk. I bet she'd give me that smug smile and ask if I'm okay. I rolled my eyes thinking about her smug smile.

I never really asked if she's had.. intercourse with someone before. What if I wasn't good enough to satisfy her expectations..? What if.. she rejects my offer? What if I hurt her during it ? Oh god I don't want that. My head plagued me with bad thoughts about the idea of trying to satisfy her and failing miserably.

Y/n is absolutely gorgeous, all my team mates seem to love her and hell I really hate the way that stupid setter of a team mate looks at her.

I can't help but get jealous because she seems so comfortable with him. Sometimes I even find myself comparing the alternative realities of her being with him instead.

He's easy going has no stupid boundaries and he probably has a ton of experience to satisfy her.. my heart clenched at the thought of her leaving me for him.

I pushed those thoughts back once again. I looked at the clock it read 5:30 pm. Maybe I can dose off and when she comes around I'll tell her everything that's on my mind. I can't keep on post poning things.

I closed my eyes long forgotten about the show playing in the background as I waited for her.

~~~~~\\~~~~~~~~~~\~~\\\~~\\\\\~~~~~~\\\~\~~~~

My eyes shot open as I heard muffled sounds in my apartment. Just what the hell was that?

I groaned as I sat up and looked at the clock it read 6:50 pm. Could she have arrived early?

The sounds were coming from the bedroom I smiled softly as I heard her beautiful voice. A voice that's so gentle when talking to me, so soft when she notices the way I slump from a long day of practice. Everything I've ever wanted in a woman. Was mine to keep and cherish.

I peeked through the crack and I noticed someone hovering over the bed. Smiling I opened it more to see what she was doing.

"Oh god yes yes tsumu right there." I felt my heart rip out of my chest. There she laid in my own apartment,in my own bed. With him. On top of her kissing her neck and thrusting into her.

She clung to him harder than she's ever clung to me.

Her mouth hung open and the so beautiful voice was now a curse I was hearing.

He kissed her neck hungrily.

"Ya feel so good angel-so fucking good." He quickened his pace while kissing her disgustingly his tongue gracing her so beautiful skin and infecting it. "Tsumu- aghnn mmhm yes-God fuck yes- yes y-ea-s." I wanted to scream, to move and tear them apart, to burn the whole apartment down hell even to avert my eyes but I couldn't.

Everything I've loved sat there being caressed by another man. That man was not me.

That man was someone better than I'll ever be.

Her gaze fell on me. Tears perked up my eyes looking at her stone lust filled eyes.

She gave me a smug smile.. That smug smile that was always so playfully displayed looked much darker than ever. No hint of playfulness or mercy. No hint of fake innocence as it once had.

"You've always been such a burden sakusa." I flinched at her tone and the mention of my last name, while that man was kissing her neck hungirly, thrusting into her as if I wasn't even there to begin with. That I ceased to exist in his world as of now.

Everything went silent for a moment, her whimpers became muted from the way the faux blonde thrusted into her as she spoke the next words.

"I never loved you. Sakusa. Me and you both know that atsumu was always the righteous man for me. You good for nothing replaceable freak."

And with that I was pushed back into the sofa my eyes shot open as I stared at her face above me cheeks flushed red from her shower she looked so beautiful but my heart it ached from what I saw. Did he see her like this too? She shrieked and stepped back.

"jesus christ kiyo! What the hell ?! are you psychic? I was about to wake you up!"

Kiyo... a name she always called me when things were serious. But the worry and softness that concealed her voice was not enough for me to accept what I just saw as an illusion.

I stood up pushing past her acting like she's not even there. I despised her existence with all my heart yet I can't help but repeat those words in my head. She's right I am replaceable. I'm a freak and I'll never be able to find love.

"Hey what the hell?! I'm talking to you, you know mister sleepy head!" She followed me into the kitchen trying to get me to talk to her, god her presence made me want to vomit.

I grabbed a glass and poured water into it and as I began to drink it to calm my nerve down before I lost my composure that was literally hanging by a thread right now.

I felt her hand on my back and to say the least i wanted nothing but to get her filthy hands and presence out of my life right now.

"Omi..what's wrong you kn-"

"Don't fucking touch me." I hissed, venom lacing my tone as I averted her gaze because seeing her made my heart clench.

Everything that I always wanted was in the arms of someone else. But why keep me around? Why hurt me like this?

I felt her staring at me wide eyed and from the corner of my eye I could see that she looked at her hand.

"I'm sorry are my hands di-"

"They're fucking filthy you disgusting bitch." This time I looked her in the eyes. Her eyes widened at my tone. She deserved it. She did this to herself what the hell was she expecting?

me to welcome her back after she just tore my heart apart ? After she was....with him? In my fucking bed? Infecting it and my life with the pain?

"Omi you don'-"

"Get out."

"W-what? Wh-"

"I SAID GET OUT!" I slammed my hand on the counter and she flinched "get the hell out of my apartment you filthy-" not even finishing my sentence I suddenly felt cold and wet

—----------------------------------------------—

YOUR POV

—----------------------------------------------—

If there's anything that life has taught me it's that whenever someone was angry DO NOT stay around them. For the sake of the both of you.

As I entered kiyoomi's apartment having a spare he was sleeping peacefully on the sofa making me smile softly. Deciding to leave him rest until I took my clothes off showering and then coming back to the living room to wake him up.

I couldn't help but notice that he was shuffling as if he was in pain i frowned and I decided to reach to shake him awake just as I was about to do so to my surprise he just jolted awake and now here we are.

He was being extremely mean and I think that I know what was going on he was shouting at me with a tone I've never recognised before.

The advise of leaving someone angry long left my mind and the glass of water now emptied in omi's face.

He stared at the ground with such pure anger and hate shocked that I had the nerve to even do such a thing after whatever the hell he saw or heard.

I sighed

"What ever dream y/n did just know that I'd never do to you. When you're ready to talk to me about it I'll be in your balcony. I'm sorry for.. throwing water in your face but you need to understand that I had no other choice." I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly putting the glass down on the counter in case he wanted to drink one more time before facing me. And with that I left and made my way to his balcony.

Whatever he saw must've hurt him deeply for him to react that way I thought I sat down looking at the beautiful sight of Tokyo breathing in its air smiling softly at the sounds of the lifeful city.

Whenever he's ready he'll come to me.

—----------------------------------------------—

Back to his pov

—----------------------------------------------—

She... threw water in my face. Suddenly I feel more awake. And guilty. God I feel so guilty. It was just a dream.

And I thought she'd... I have to fix this.

Panicking on how the hell i was going to word off 'sorry i had a dream where you cheated and I was so sure you did it so I screamed at you ' to her I filled the glass of water and drank it going into the bedroom sighing and letting a few tears spill while changing my wet shirt.

At times like this I'd truly begin to wish that I was like everyone else.

That I wasn't a very cautious man who was so blunt and had a comeback for everything but the man that could've made her life better.

I put on my slides and my hand hovered over my balcony door. Watching her city gaze smiling softly to herself.

At times where she would come over she always insisted on drinking coffee in my balcony at night.

At first it sounded so silly because I wouldn't get to sleep the whole night but instead i slept better and happier more fulfilled.

"Staring isn't nice you know?" Her sweet voice cut my train of memories and I opened the door clearing my throat.

God how awkward where the hell do I even begin to apologise i feel so guilty and dumb for even doubting you.

I sat next to her.

"You cheated on me.." she snapped her neck so fast it felt like it broke wide eyed. Before she could even speak I reassured "in my dream."Her expression softened she nodded listening to what I had to say.

"It felt so...real.. I walked onto you and atsumu.. and you told me that I'm a burden and you n-never loved me." I couldn't face her. I couldn't even look at her because of my ignorance and insecurities it truly was a pathetic sight for her to witness me this way.

Hot tears streamed down my face as I sniffiled.

"I know you always assure me that there's no need for me to be jealous or worry about him but it felt so real. I know that you'd be better of with someone who understood you better than I did. Act better than I did..hell even not doubt you because of something like this. "

my heart clenched at the next outcome. That being Her actually leaving me. I opened my mouth to speak only to be cut off by her "can I touch you?"

I looked at her nervously nodding like a small child as she pulled me into her arms hugging me while rubbing my back.

"I'd never dream of leaving you Kiyoomi. Yet alone be in someone else's arms.." I clung to her worried that if I didn't she'd leave me.

I cried softly against her repeating apologies while she rocked me.

"Hey hey Shh omi.. it's alright I know you didn't mean any of it. Besides I can't believe dream me cheated on you and with nasty ass atsumu out of all people" she fake gagged.

Making me laugh tearfully against her chest pulling away to look at her and she cupped my face in her hands making me look deeply in her so beautiful love filled eyes. Something dream her didnt have.

"There hasn't been a day that's passed where I don't thank god that you chose me out of everyone else omi. I'd be so stupid to throw away everything that you've given me." She smiled at me so sweetly it gave me toothache "i dont care if there are people out there who have no boundaries and arent afraid of germs and hell can touch me no matter what because those people arent you. I'd never ever lay in someone's elses arms kiyo..you're the one for me you know that right?" She looked back at me searching for a confirmation that I believed her so I nodded gently "It's always going to be you omi.. okay? I'm not going anywhere and you're stuck with me sadly." She giggled while a few tears were threatening to spill from her eyes my heart clenched this time because of her sweetness and care.

"I wouldn't mind being anywhere as long as it's with you y/n" I smiled at her as I brought my hand to her face and kissed her. The taste of her lips were always so intoxicating. So addictive.

And at that I knew it'll be okay. I loved her so much, with every muscle and bone in my body. But it was okay because so did she.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\\\\\~~~~~~

"How do you want the pork chopped?" I looked at her from my counter while she confusingly stared at me "omi... I don't eat pork." Oops I forgot that. And now I'm embarrassed that I did. "O-oh yeah sorry." Fucking idiot.. I thought to myself.

She giggled and hugged me from behind and kissed my shoulder peeking from the sides watching me as I chopped the pork. Smiling at her so familiar warmth.

"No need to be embarrassed you're not the only one who forgets it all the time you know" I rolled my eyes at her observant habit still smiling at her warmth but I wont let her slide that easy so I'll tease her "says the big baby who's clinging onto me like a baby koalo." She giggled against my back sending shivers down my spine. "Yeah its your fault that you're so handsome and cuddly." I chuckled at her reasoning she hummed as if she was in thought. "Oh yeah, Omi you wanted to talk to me about something was it me cheating on you in your dream or something else ?" She teased.

I got a bit stiff At the thought of even asking her to move in with me. She backed away from me as I turned around.

"Y-yeah.." she raised an eyebrow at me "so which one is it?" She asked eagerly crossing her arms "I-uh,," why was this so freaking hard to ask I scratched the back of my neck avoiding her gaze. "Move in w-ith me...?" I mumbled softly I felt my face heat up as I attempted to ask her that half ass effort.

She smiled that one smug smile I loved to see so much but I'll never tell her that.

"Speak up I cant hear you omi" I rolled my eyes at her and turned my back continuing with chopping up the pork. "Guess you dont want to.." I mumbled earning a small gasp from her and to leech onto me from the side hugging me tightly "no no no sorry I heard you yes I'd love that, actually I've been dying to move in with you but I can't just ask hey I'm going to move in with you so make room for me in your closet" she giggled and kissed my cheek lovingly making me smile. I looked up at her as she smiled so hard at me teeth and everything. She leaned in to kiss me.

Now or never.

"I'm also ready to have sex with you." I moved away to the freezer to grab something I can make her leaving her hangingon thin air. She almost choked on nothing blushing immediately.

"YOU WHAT NOW??" I smirked at her loud voice and shock.

"Is chicken okay?" And now her face turned sour in disbelief. Possibly redder too.

"YOU CAN'T JUST ACT LIKE YOU DIDN'T JUST SAY THAT!"

"I guess chicken it is" I shrugged smirking at her.

"KIYOOOOOOMIIIII"

At the end of the day i always knew that home was always going to be right here with her around me. I'm one lucky man to have her around me. But I've hit bulls eye with her love for me.

—----------------------------------------------—

Kiyoomi made you chicken soup that day. And he decided that today was the day to give you his all let's just say.. his insecurities weren't right at all about him. Even saying that he totally satisfied you wasn't enough to describe the feeling you felt. Now sakusa has grown addicted to how you feel around him. My guy is whipped and extremely horny for you.

—----------------------------------------------—

A/N: I LITERSLLY FELL ASLEEP IN THE MIDDLE OF WRITING THIS AHAHAHAHA anyway I feel like this isn't my best work yet but I hope that you guys liked it ;(;( I feel like there's not enough his pov content so I decided to make it his pov also this isn't my best work so I'm sorryyyy im insecure rn pls I hope yall enjoyed this thank you so much for reading !!

-kira

#sakusa x you #haikyuu fluff #sakusa angst #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst

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silkling · 3 years

Text

Of Newfound Knowledge and Truths of a Yesteryear

Of Moments in Life AU

———————————————————————————————————

Heatwave stood on his small training platform, punching the wooden dummy and trying to ignore the rage bubbling in the back of his processor. That morning, he’d read some of the data-pads that High Tide and Optimus had left, the ones Blades had read when Dreadwing first crashed on the island. What he’d learned had made him angry, and he didn’t understand how his teammate hadn’t been angry, too.

The Decepticons…the pads had a lot of information on what the ‘Cons had done throughout the War. The information had definitely been censored and sanitized, probably intentionally so his team wouldn’t be exposed to the full horrors of the War through the data pads, but it had still been enough for Heatwave to understand.

Dreadwing had said that the Decepticons started as a social revolution. But they were certainty far from that, now. The Rescue Force, Praxus, Iacon…they’d destroyed everything that had stood in their way, not caring if those they crushed were even involved in the War or not. It made him angry, his rescue protocols screaming with rage and loss in his processor.

As the conflicting emotions peaked, he heard the sound of pedes behind him and turned to see Dreadwing. Heatwave stepped away from the training post, the platform lowering to the ground as he crossed his arms and frowned. He liked the former Deception. He hadn’t spent as much time with him as the rest of his time, but he big bot was never violent or mean. He was a little blunt, and seemed to be a bit overly aggressive in his solutions for Heatwave’s peace-orientated processor, but he wasn’t a bad bot. At least, he didn’t appear to be.

Dreadwing seemed to notice his internal distress, because the larger bot pinned him with a considering and slightly concerned look. “You seem troubled, little one.” he rumbled.

“I’m not little.” Heatwave answered on reflex, mildly indignant. He didn’t understand why the Seeker referred to him and his teammates like that. Well, he supposed he did. They were all little, compared to him. “And…I guess I am.” He looked up at Dreadwing, a hard frown twisting his features.

“So I see.” Dreadwing, for his part, now looked ever so slightly amused. “And what is it what is causing you such distress?”

Heatwave made a frustrated noise, his vocalizer clicking in a sort of nonsense babble as he tried to think of how to explain. “I just–I don’t understand. How could they have done…everything they did?”

“What are you talking about?” Dreadwing asked, confused.

“I read the data lads Optimus and High Tide left! I learned about some of the things the Decepticons did!” he snapped, frustration and anger bleeding into his tone in place of previous confusion. Just the thought of what he’d learned was enough to make his spark sing with rage.

“Ah, now I understand.” The Seeker stated, his gaze becoming solemn and understanding. “And what did you learn, Heatwave?”

“You know what!”

“I do not. Your data pads are Autobot records, youngling. While I have no doubt there is truth there, I am also quite sure that much of that information is highly biased or just pure conjecture.”

The fire truck scowled. “Oh? So the Decepticons didn’t destroy Praxus, which was supposed to be a Neutral city?”

Dreadwing paused. “They did. It was before I joined, but they did.”

“And you’ve probably done a lot too, haven’t you?” He demanded. “Killed a lot of innocent bots, destroyed a lot of lives?” he was angry and hurting and he didn’t understand how Dreadwing could have joined a cause that was so horrible unless he was, as the human say, cut from the same cloth. But he couldn’t be, everything Heatwave had seen from the Seeker since his crash on the island directly conflicted with what the youngling had learned of the Decepticons. It just made him confused and left his spark aching.

The Seeker in question was silent, observing for a moment before he dipped his head. “I have. I have done many, many terrible things. I never killed sparklings or younglings, but I have killed countless Autobot soldiers and slain more than a few Neutral civilians on Megatron’s command.” He said softly. “I have aided in the stripping and destruction of planets, and I have directly contributed to the death of our homeworld. I do not deny any of this. I am not trying to escape my past, Heatwave, or to deny the crimes and atrocities I have committed.”

“Then why did you do them? Why are you here? Why should we let you stay if you’ve done all of that?” He didn’t actually want Dreadwing to leave, and the knew the others would want him to either. But he had just admitted to having committed horrible acts. Heatwave didn’t know what to think.

If the harsh questions bothered him, Dreadwing didn’t show it. “I did what I did because, at the time, I believed I was in the right. You know how Cybertron was in the Golden Age. You know of the emurata, of Functionism, of the caste system and how it was structured. Don’t tell me you don’t.” he said. “I rose from a system that sought to oppress me, and I turned to the only option I saw at the time. The Decepticons. It was wrong, and I have come to realize that.” He paused, tilting his head slightly. “I am here because I have little elsewhere I can go, and because I find myself growing fond of this place. I am here because Primus has granted me a second chance, an opportunity to do better and to be better, and I intend to take it.” Dreadwing took an extra moment to consider the last question. “You likely should not.” he answered. “I cannot change what I have done, all I can do it try to make amends and hope to find redemption one day.” He met the youngling’s gaze evenly. “But I would like to stay, if you would allow me the chance to pursue something better here.”

Heatwave held his gaze, then sagged and looked away. “Fine. I don’t even want you to leave anyway.” he sounded tired. “I won’t make you go. I don’t think I could. The others like you, and so do I. It’d just do more harm than good to everyone involved if I made you leave now.” he glanced up. “Just…tell me why. Why did the Decepticons do all of that? I don’t understand.” he sounded frustrated and helpless.

Dreadwing softened, his wings dipping down just slightly as his frame relaxed. “The Decepticons did not rise from nothing, little one.” he rumbled.

“What do you mean? The data pads said Megatron came out of nowhere and built them up before anyone realized what was going on.” He said, his anger abating in face of his even more confusion.

Dreadwing scoffed. “I am certain that many Autobot’s believe that.” his lips curled faintly, displeased. “That is, however, as far from the truth as you can get.”

“Then why would Autobot data pads contain that information as if it were fact?” he demanded, crossing his arms.

The Seeker hummed, tilting his head. “Perhaps, if you wish to have this discussion in its entirety, it would be best to sit somewhere?”

Heatwave paused, then nodded. “Lounge.” he said gruffly, leading the way. Once there, he dragged over a beanbag chair and settled into it comfortably, leaving the couch to the former Decepticon.

“To begin, I must ask how much you know about the Autobots and Decepticons as a whole, as well as how much you know and understand the political and social climate of the Golden Age.” Dreadwing stated.

Heatwave frowned. “I know what you told us when you first arrived.” he said, tilting his head. “I also know that the Autobot’s end goal is the restoration of Cybertron and the revival of our race. I know the Decepticons want to take control and lead Cybertron by force, and that their end goal is to put ‘Cons in charge and remove lots of freedom from bots under their rule.” he said. He crossed his arms, staring at a point on the floor as he tried to think. “I know that the Senate used to rule Cybertron during the Golden Age, and that they weren’t very fair and a lot of bots suffered, and that some of their regulations and punishments were extreme.” he tilted his head. “I know the caste system made the bots in the lower castes struggle a lot.” he seemed almost ashamed at this point. “I….I never paid the most attention to that, though. I was in the upper-middle caste, and my Function was something I already wanted to do.”

“Rescue work.” Dreadwing guessed.

The firetruck nodded. “Yeah.” he admitted.

“Then you know much of the very basics, though your knowledge lacks in the complexity and finer details of the full scope of the situation.” he rumbled. “You are correct. The Autobots fight for a restored Cybertron. But your knowledge of the Decepticons is…not entirely accurate.”

Heatwave’s engine growled with displeasure as he just grew more helplessly confused. “What?”

“The Decepticons do seek control, and they do seek to rule over Cybertron. That is true. It is also true that their goal is to see to the destruction of the Autobots. But it wasn’t always so.”

“Yeah, you mentioned they started as a social revolution.” Heatwave said, starting to calm down once he realized he’d be getting his answers, and without all the vagueness that came from Optimus whenever he tried to ask the Prime about the War.

“They did. But Megatron not rise from nothing, as the Autobots are so fond of believing. He rose from foundations that were already very deeply rooted. Functionism was a plague and the caste system was a rot that had sunk deep into the very core of our world.” he said, voice soft and somber. “It was a rot that infected only the oppressed and the beaten; it affected the lower castes and the undesirables, and those who lived comfortably in the higher castes did not feel the affects of it.”

“Undesirables?” Heatwave echoed, confused.

“Bots who did not fit into the world the Senate wished to portray. They wanted a Cybertron where every bot had a singular Function and operated according to that Function and ONLY according to that Function. They wanted a world where all those who were not of the Senate were subservient to them and obeyed them without question. They wanted a world that operated under the beliefs and celebrations and social structure they approved of. Those who did not fit into that world, and who could not fit into that world, were deemed undesirable.” He cast the youngling a meaningful look. “For the Senate, that included flight-frames. It is why they were so eager to see the spread of anti-flyer sentiments, to confine flyers, whether they were Seekers or not, to a single city. Flight-frames have a different base coding to ground-frames, and the Senate were all ground-frames. In their optics, flight-frames were a danger to their rule because flyers, by the nature of our frames, do not fit seamlessly into a Functionist society.” he paused. “It certainly did not help that the social structure, belief system, and cultural behavior of flight-frames was radically different to that of ground-frames, and that it was radically different to what the Senate was trying to enforce.”

Heatwave was silent for a long moment, considering what he was told. “But…you said the caste system was a rot. What did you mean?”

Dreadwing hummed, his fingers tapping a pattern on the couch; it was a very human gesture, one he had picked up from the Burnses without even realizing it. He had to word this carefully. Not because he wanted to manipulate the younger bot, but because it was a complex situation and a rather unpleasant one. “You said we’re were of the upper-middle caste.” he said carefully. “And that fits with your frame type and your Function. But have you never thought about the types of bots that fill each level of the caste system?” he asked.

Heatwave furrowed his optical ridges, shaking his helm. “No…” he said slowly. “I know…I know artists were considered among the lowest tier of the high castes. I know scientists and medics were high caste, and that the only bots above them were politicians.” he said.

Dreadwing smiled faintly. The young bot was starting to understand on his own. “Indeed. But those bots only made up a minority of Cybertron’s population. What of the others? What of the common laborers?”

“You mean, like, cleaners and construction bots? You’re right, they were more common than scientists, medics, or artists.” he said. “Like Boulder. He was originally a construction bot.”

He nodded. “They were indeed more common. But what caste did the Senate assign to them?”

“The…the lower caste.” Understanding was starting to bloom in Heatwave’s optics. “The lowest caste, for most of the laborer frames.” he realized. “That means…Boulder was from the lower castes.”

Dreadwing hummed agreement. “He was. If you wish to know more, then you shall have to ask him yourself. It is not my place to tell you what he experienced.” He sighed heavily. “But I will tell you that the lower castes, the bots who made up the majority of our people, did not often lead pleasant lives. They received little pay for their work, could not often afford decent fuel, if they could afford any fuel, and most of their pay would have to go to maintaining their living space. It oft left them overtired, overworked, and very, very hungry. It did not help that many of them had dangerous Functions, dangerous jobs, and after paying for their living quarters and fuel, they did not have the shanix for medical care. It meant the lower castes were forced to choose between their need for fuel and their health.”

Heatwave swallowed, his optics blown wide. “Oh.” he whispered. “But…why didn’t they do anything?”

Dreadwing looked almost melancholic at his question. “Most of the lower castes simply did not have the time or energy to fight against it. They were too tired, too hungry, to injured or sick, and were forced to focus purely on their own survival.” he stated. “And those few that did try to speak up…” he trailed off. “The Senate was not kind to dissenters, little one. If they did not use empurata on those who protested their systems, they used other means of punishment and silencing.” his tone was grim.

Heatwave chose not to ask what those “other means” were. He had a feeling he didn’t want to know. “It…it was really that bad?”

The Seeker bowed his helm. “Ask Boulder or Blades. They would know the best of your teammates.” Though, he had his suspicions about the means of Chase’s creation, and if he was right then the police bot might also know how bad the Senate could be.

“Boulder, I get. But why Blades?”

“The little flyer once told me that one of his brothers was a flight-frame. He would not have experienced the cruelty directly, as he was a ground-frame on Cybertron, but he would doubtless have experienced or seen it through his brother.”

“Oh.” Heatwave was starting to get the feeling that he didn’t know as much about his team as he thought he did. He really needed to fix that. “I guess I understand why the Decepticons rose to quickly then, if things were really that bad for so long.”

“Indeed.” Dreadwing agreed. “But there is one more thing you must understand.”

“Which is?” Heatwave was feeling a little sick to his tanks. He hadn’t been aware the situation on Cybertron had been so bad, but then again, he’d lived a good life. He’d had all the fuel he needed, he never worried about his health or safety, his living situation was pretty much always assured, and he actually enjoyed working according to his Function. He wouldn’t have experienced the rot Dreadwing mentioned, so it only made sense he wasn’t entirely aware of it. That didn’t get rid of the guilt, though.

“The Decepticons are made up almost entirely of flight-frames and those of lower castes. There are certainly some of those among Autobot forces, but the grand majority of them are Decepticon.” Dreadwing pinned Heatwave under a severe look. “What does that tell you, little one?”

“It tells me that the Autobots are mostly ground-frames and bots from the middle and upper castes.” he answered, suddenly understanding the War in a whole new light. It certainly didn’t excuse what the Decepticons had done, but now this…this made it a lot easier to understand.

“Indeed.” he agreed. “The Decepticons originally rose on the backs of bots who were beaten down and had little else to lose, bots whose only crime was to want a better life.” he said. “When the Senate, and later the original Autobots before Optimus Prime, attempted to beat them back down to their “proper place”, they fought back for the freedom that should have always been theirs.” His gaze went distant, as if remembering something from long ago. “The Decepticons were originally a freedom movement, little one. It was only as time wore on and the spilled energon between the factions soured that they lost their way and forget their original mission.”

“And now?”

“Now, because so many Autobots are ground-frame or originated from the higher castes, they do not understand why their enemy continue to fight. Certainly, many Decepticons fight because they wish to destroy the Autobots, but there are many, many more who only fight because they fear that an Autobot victory means a return to the ways of the Golden Age. It is something that Prime and his bots simply do not, and perhaps never will, understand.”

“So most of the Autobots…they weren’t bots who were hurt by the Senate.”

“No.” Dreadwing agreed. “Prime’s team on Earth is a good example. Prime himself is formerly of the lower-high caste, as he was a former Archivist. His scout was upper-middle caste, and while he was too young to receive his Function at the start of the War he would very easily have made a successful racer. The femme-bot was an Enforcer, also considered upper-middle caste. And of course, the medic. Ratchet was famed, even before the War.” The Seeker smiled sardonically. “He was quite firmly in the highest castes. All of them operated according to their Function, and all of them were content with it.” He tilted his head. “The only bot on Prime’s own team who does not fit that mold is his Wrecker, who was once a construction bot. He is the only one who might truly understand.”

Heatwave nodded, looking own at his lap. “I think I get it now. This war…it’s not going to end until the Autobots understand that stuff, is it? Because they won’t understand why most of the Decepticons keep fighting, why they started fighting in the first place.” he said, looking up to meet red optics.

“Yes. You’re very intelligent, little one. You learn fast.” Dreadwing slumped slightly, releasing a heavy vent. “You are correct. So long as the Autobots do not understand, then the Decepticons, at least those who only fight out of a fear of a return to the old ways, will never stop what they are doing.”

“You really know a lot about this stuff.”

“I am a Seeker, Heatwave. I experienced much of the Senate’s cruelty directly, as did most of my frame-kin.”

The Rescue Bot nodded, subdued. Now he understood. A part of him wished he didn’t, but he was glad he did. He sighed, meeting Dreadwing’s gaze again. “I think I owe you an apology, then. I judged you based on incomplete information.”

Dreadwing bowed his helm. “Thank you, little one. As I said, I certainly committed horrible acts, and I can never undo what I have done, but now I only make to make amends as I move forward.”

Heatwave nodded, smirking and straightening up. “I think you can. And lucky for you, we’re here to help.” he said.

Dreadwing blinked, before he chuckled, his wings lifting as the mood brightened. “So you are. Thank you, youngling.”

“We’re Rescue Bots.” Heatwave grinned. “Helping others is what we do.”

“So it is.” He agreed, looking amused. “And perhaps, I can also help you?”

He blinked, taken aback. “Me? How?”

“I have noticed you practicing with your sparring post. Your form is acceptable, and I am aware that the Rescue Force trained its Teams to have combat abilities, but I can help you improve. Your current skills will help you fight if a rescue mission were to go wrong, but if you wish, then I can help expand and improve your combat capability even beyond that.”

Heatwave blinked. “You’ll teach me how to fight.” he stated.

“I would be glad to, if you wish to learn. There may come a day when you must fight a true enemy, and if that day comes then greater combat skill may be helpful.” Dreadwing pointed out.

Heatwave narrowed his optics, considering the unsaid implications of that statement. “…you think the War might come to us.”

“Perhaps.” he said grimly. “I pray that it does not, but in the event it does I think it is better that you are prepared to fight against an enemy who truly wishes to see your spark go out.”

He nodded, gaze firming. The others would need lessons too, in that case. The Rescue Force did teach them all basic combat, in the event that they needed to fight off anything that might be threatening whoever or whatever they were rescuing, but their combat training had been pretty basic. If Dreadwing was right, and there was a possibility of Sigma-17 one day facing an opponent that wanted them dead, then they’d need to shape up. He stood, hands curling into fists as his shoulders lifted and determination burned in his spark. He stared the Seeker in the optics.

“Let’s do it.”

Dreadwing stood, a faint smile curling at his lips, and clapped a hand on the youngling’s shoulder. “I look forward to it.” he said, a hint of pride in his tone. Heatwave was so very young, but already he was shaping up to be a fine mech, a fine leader.

Heatwave himself only grinned, blue optics bright. “So do I.”

He’d learned a lot today. Not all of it had been pleasant, and a distinctly unpleasant feeling still curled in his tanks, but he was glad to learn what he had. The past was dark and violent, he’d come to realize. Cybertron’s history was steeped in shadows and darkness and Heatwave was certain that he still didn’t know everything, that Dreadwing had certainly omitted many of the worst of the details. Given all that, he really couldn’t find it in himself to be surprised that the War had happened.

Now though, wasn’t the time to focus on the past. Not Cybertron’s past, and not on Dreadwing’s past either. He tilted his helm up to turn his grin on the larger bot, leaning his weight into the hand on his shoulder and enjoying the small physical contact. Yes, he decided. Dreadwing’s past didn’t matter, not here. All that mattered was what was to come, and Heatwave was determined to meet whatever the future held for them head on.

For himself, and for his newfound family — all of them, even its newest addition.

———————————————————————————————————

Here it is, folks! The next installment in “of moments in life”! This one goes a little deeper into Pre-War Cybertron’s social/political climate. Heatwave got a massive reality check. He was sorta privileged, by the standards of the Golden Age, and he’s being forced to realize what that meant and what it blinded him to. Poor youngling, his entire worldview just got rocked.

As for Dreadwing, he now has another son! The next installment will be tHe Blades and Dreadwing one. It’s gonna be sad. They’re gonna talk about their brothers. That’s all I’ll say! I have prompts fo write for before I can get to it, so it’ll be a bit, but stay tuned, it’ll come out! Anyway, hope y’all liked it! Let me know your thoughts!

Until next time, folks!

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