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multific · 1 year

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Little You-s and I-s

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary: You and Tommy deal with the changes that come with your pregnancy.

Your pregnancy changed you a lot.

You became more sensitive to smell for example.

One evening, Thomas arrived home from the bar, and as soon as you caught the smell of drinks and smoke on him, you rushed to the bathroom.

Then there was the incident when you craved fish but before you could cook it, the smell of it caught your nose and again, rushing for the toilet you went.

Thomas was incredibly happy when you told him the news, having his own family with you was always a goal of his.

What he didn't like however is just how sensitive you became and one thing that set it off easily was his cigarettes.

Thomas smoked a lot, so for him to not be able to do that in his own home was a bit challenging, but he still found ways to smoke one or two in the furthest part of the garden. Even then, sometimes the wind carried the smell right back to you.

"No smoking and no drinks!" yelled Tom at John as he pulled out a cigarette.

"What? Why?"

"My wife is pregnant, she is sensitive to the smell."

"Oooh, it got that bad huh?" asked John as you entered the room with a tray, on the tray there were some cookies and tea.

"I'll appreciate if you can hold yourself from smoking just this once John, the smell of it just..."

"No problem, thank you for the tea."

"I'll leave you to it." you smiled at your husband who nodded before he turned to John, talking about business.

When lunchtime was approaching, both John and Tom found themselves in the kitchen where you were currently chopping up some carrots and crying.

"Darling, I'm sure the carrots don't mind us eating them."

"Tell that to the headless chicken in the oven, Thomas!" you quickly said back making both men take a step back, Thomas should have known not to argue with you.

Both headed into the dining room instead.

"Is pregnancy supposed to affect a woman this much?" asked John in a hushed tone.

"I think so? I'm no expert John. Arthur has children, he might know more."

"She is glowing though. She was crying but she still looked like a Goddess."

"Can't argue with that, John. But keep your wandering eyes to yourself, she is my wife."

"Does she always cry during cooking?"

"As of late, yes. Yesterday, she made salmon, cried her heart about as she was talking about the poor little fishies the one she cooked left behind. But then this morning, she cried when she made salad. Saying the potatoes didn't deserve to die this way."

"So, she is sensitive to smell, cries when the cooks, can't get worse than that, I'd say."

"She talks back like I have never heard before."

"Okay, I was wrong it can get worse. You mean to tell me, that my lovely shy sister-in-law talks back? The one who didn't dare to tell you she didn't like the ring you gave her?" Thomas made a face at John's confession.

"She didn't like the ring?"

"No, she said she wished you would have given her something more simple. But she didn't want to tell you because she would hurt your feelings."

"Well now, with my child under her heart, she is not afraid to talk from her heart. The other day she told me I should dress better, apparently my suits make me look old. Then she wanted to dance and when I said I don't have the energy she complained that I never have when it comes to her. This is true sadly, however, the latest one... oh Johnny, my boy just before you arrived, she told me to ask you not to smoke and when I told her that you will be free to do as you please, the look. That look I know well, it's the look of someone who is about to murder. She said I either tell you to not smoke or-" Thomas stopped as he felt a shiver run down his spine, both men turned towards the door only to find you with the food in your hands on a tray.

You approached them and placed the food in front of them. The air was cold, John swore he could have cut the tension with a spoon.

"I told him he either asks you not to smoke or I will seriously question his position as the leader, as all leaders should be listened to and respected. And if he is not able to do so, then I shall take his place. So, you are not allowed to smoke John." John nodded, not even daring to look at you.

"Th-Thank you for the meal." John said.

"I know I can be a handful since I'm with child, I feel the change in myself, the doctor said it was hormones to blame, but I seriously hope you do not plan on talking our dear Johnny's ears off with my silliness, Dear Thomas. He doesn't have to know everything."

"Of course, Love. I apologize." Thomas grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on it.

John left soon after lunch and you were now washing the dishes as Tom was reading in the living room.

Once all dishes were done, you headed into the living room, a soft song playing as he was reading in his favourite armchair. He put the paper down when he saw you approach and you sat on his lap, your head on his chest as he continued to read with one hand as the other was now around you, comforting you.

"Am I really that annoying that you talk to John about it?"

"You are not annoying, Love. Odd, sometimes yes, but that isn't due to pregnancy." you giggled a little.

You were fine with 'odd'.

"I try to control it, you know?"

"Oh, God, is this the controlled version? I'm scared now for the uncontrolled one."

"It will get worse, I'm warning you because the doctor said last week that this will only grow as the baby does."

"It's alright, your body will change, I can take a few harsh words, I took bullets after all." he placed a kiss on your forehead.

"Do you want a girl or a boy?" you asked with a rather quiet voice.

"I don't really care, as long as both of you are safe and healthy."

"So you want a boy, got it." Tommy laughed you looked up at him, into his blue eyes. "I just want them to have your eyes."

"What if they don't?"

"Then we try until we have a child who does." you smiled at him as he looked at you.

"Just how many children my Missus want?"

"Oh, as many as my lovely husband would give me. We have a big house, it would be nice to have some life in it. Little you-s and I-s running around."

"I would like that. Honestly, I would like that very much. But let's see how you do after this one, then we will talk."

You hummed before you placed another kiss on his lips, letting him return to his paper as comfortable silence fell.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @paola-carter @stunkbiggu @violet-19999 @praline357

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

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luveline · 4 months

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hi jadey would you do something with r peeling an orange for peter even though he’s perfectly capable of doing it for himself but she wants to do acts of service for him ☹️🫶

There are some bad boyfriends out there. Guys who’d rather argue, who won’t walk their girls to the door, who never help with the dishes. There are losers who expect things after they pay for dinner, and never say please.

Peter Parker is the polar opposite of all those men. Peter Parker gets home from a long day at work and a short shift as his crime-fighting alter ego and makes you a hot chocolate without asking how many marshmallows you want. “Hello,” he says, kissing you behind the ear as he comes around you from behind, the hot chocolate set carefully next to your laptop. “Did you hear me come in, or are you ignoring me?”

The former, for sure. You beam to yourself and twist in his hold to meet his eyes, brown and wide where they take you in. “Hello!” you say, not shouting, but certainly not whispering either. “I never hear you. You’re a cheater.”

“You have ears,” he says.

“And I choose not to use them.”

“You okay?” He gives your shoulder a concerned rub. When you nod, it turns to a quicker, softer patting. “Okay. I’m gonna make dinner, yeah? I’m starving.”

He’s strange in that he says ‘starving’ like he’s excited about the feeling. You nod and he nods back, tangible affection in the air between you before he presses his nose to your forehead and leaves.

You’re just a girl. You finish what you’d been working on as quickly as you can and close your laptop, sipping at the hot chocolate he’d made you with a smirk. Your boyfriend loves you a lot. He’s handsome and tall and smart but he fucking loves you; Peter comes home from a long day hungry and makes you a drink.

“My love.” You push open the kitchen door.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“I can make dinner.”

“No, that’s fine. I’m making it.”

“I can do it, Pete,” you say, putting your mug down on the counter.

“I’m gonna do it,” he says, taking your hands, moving you out of the way of the fridge. His smile is as sugary as his eyes. “You have hot chocolate to drink. Before it’s cold chocolate.”

“Boo.” You let him win reluctantly. He’s too strong, you argue to yourself smugly, he could totally take you in a fight. There’s never any winning with him.

Peter turns the oven on and lights the stovetop, a frying pan on the heat, a square of butter melting in the centre. He cuts the veggies swiftly, asking question from over his shoulder. How was your day, babe? Did you eat enough? Did that headache come back?

You lean on the counter and take a clementine from the fruit bowl. It was fine, you tell him, digging your fingers into the skin. Not much to say. I ate plenty. Headache stayed at home. The sharp citrus smell of torn pith hits the air as you peel the skin from the fruit's flesh. Then you spend a good five minutes taking off the stringy white bits as Peter fries your veggies with some leftover chicken from last night.

“Here,” you say, breaking the clementine into pieces.

“Oh, thank you,” he says, taking one from the well of your hand.

He eats it so fast you could argue he doesn’t taste it.

“It’s for you, Peter,” you say, putting the rest of the clementine on the chopping board next to the carrot tops. “I’ll peel you another one. I know one’s not enough for you.”

“Au contraire,” he murmurs, grabbing your waist, tugging you in, orange on his breath as you let him take your weight and move in. “You’re the only one for me.”

“Terrible,” you murmur back.

Peter’s grinning as he takes your face into his hand. He tips your head back, your heart fluttering just as much as it did the very first time he touched you like this, his eyes lit by a deep, unignorable sweetness for you. “Thank you,” he says. “You’re real nice to me, huh?”

“Thank you for the hot chocolate.”

“That wasn’t me. That was just sitting here when I got in.”

You wrap your arm around his neck to close him in. “Sure it was.”

“It was!” He kisses the corner of your mouth eagerly. Each word he says after is half smothered by the press of his lips on your cheek and the soft skin just below your eye as you laugh. “Wanna feed me as I stir? I think our dinner’s burning.”

“If you keep kissing me, then yeah. I’ll peel every orange in that bowl for you.”

Such a promise spurs another round of soft kisses.

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sunderwight · 8 months

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Thinking about the weird camaraderie that exists between demons but not angels in GO.

Have we ever seen two angels who are actually friends? Or even friendly to one another? We have met angels with a capacity to be friendly in general, but I think the closest we've come to two angels actually getting along would be Gabriel making a point to laugh at Sandalphon's terrible "can't have a war without War" line in S1.

Most scenes between the angels actually seem to have an undercurrent of absolute hostility. Teeth-clenched teamwork. No wonder it took them so long to notice that Aziraphale wasn't on the same page as the rest of them! The rest of them are barely on the same page as one another, either! When Gabriel goes against the majority vote, no one bats an eye at demoting him and wiping his memory. Michael and Uriel immediately begin vying for his job. The only times we've seen angels team up is when they're working together to bully someone else, like when they're trying to intimidate Aziraphale in S1 or going to the aftermath of the bookshop raid in S2.

Saraqael's overall neutrality towards Muriel is the closest we get to two angels in Heaven getting along, and it's more a lack of hostility than any kind of friendliness. At least until Gabriel loses his memories and Muriel shows up to spy on Aziraphale, and Aziraphale decides to be kind to both of them.

Demons, on the other hand, actually seem to form alliances and even friendships among one another. Hastur and Ligur are awful, but Hastur seems genuinely distraught over Ligur's death, not just fearful of suffering the same fate. Shax and Furfur conspire together and even though the 1940's investigation into Crowley's fraternizing doesn't work out for Furfur, it's not due to any double-crossing on Shax's part. Unlike the angels, who stick almost exclusively to making threats until the Metatron decides to try dangling a carrot at the end of the season, demons actually offer rewards to other demons when trying to work together. Beelzebub offers Crowley a promotion if he can bring them Gabriel, Furfur offers to back Shax up politically if she goes for the Duke position opening, and Crowley successfully stalls Hastur in S1 by pretending everything was a test and he's going to be put in charge of a legion as a reward for passing. They're still not great at socializing, but they're significantly ahead of the angels.

Of course, it's a fact that demons are awful to one another (Eric's treatment is really bad, they throw that random demon into holy water just to test it, "it'd be a funny world if demons went around trusting one another", etc) but they still seem more capable of forming friendships than the angels do.

I think that's because Hell cramps and crowds everyone together to try and increase their suffering and hostility, whereas Heaven isolates angels to decrease the odds of questioning or rebellion. Hell's methods are unpleasant, but it still ends up putting demons together, and some of those demons inevitably forge alliances and make friendships. Because as Crowley and Beelzebub demonstrate, demons are still social creatures with the capacity for love and affection, even if it's strongly discouraged and buried under nine million layers of trauma and a cultural mandate against kindness.

Angels are the same, but isolation makes is harder to form connections than overcrowding. Muriel and Jimbriel are both so eager to make friends, but Muriel's spent the past millennia shut in an empty office, and Gabriel has been distanced from his peers both through his position and also through Heaven's culture of fear and surveillance. He only breaks away from it when he finds something that's stronger than "choosing sides" (stronger than the fear of being rejected by Heaven and Falling, in fact strong enough that Falling seems worth it if he gets to be with someone he loves). Both Muriel and Gabriel are only able to start forming connections when they're away from Heaven.

I just think it's interesting that demons, despite being supposedly devoid of love, have an advantage in forming relationships compared to angels. Angels are supposed to love, but have far fewer opportunities to actually do so. Demons aren't supposed to love, but they make connections anyway.

#good omens #ineffable bureaucracy #both angels and demons are suckers for a bit of kindness too #even if they pretend otherwise and even if there are exceptions to the rule #like yeah you're probably not gonna win over the likes of hastur or michael with a nicety #but according to word of god furfur would be highly susceptible to a kind word #and well we see how it is with muriel and jim #i think this is why shax also weirdly toes the line between getting crowley destroyed and being almost-friends with him #that's just how it works in hell when you don't actually despise somebody #you can't be nice to them but you're still also kind of helpful and non-hostile a lot #don't let it interfere with your goals but sure deliver their mail and get their help with your boiler issues why not #maggie took the wrong approach to confronting the demons #if she'd been nice instead of telling them off they wouldn't have known how to handle it i bet #they're USED to being mocked and yelled at #should have given them jim's tray of canapes and offered them tea and stuff #not that I expect anyone to intuit that under the circumstances just that it might have actually held them off a lot longer #bunch of demons sitting outside of a bookshop passing around a tray of tiny little dinners and listening to records playing from inside

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thefandomdirtymind · 8 months

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Casual

18 +

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Part 2

Sanji series : SFW Shiny Offering NSFW The Small Favor - SFW The Mermaid Dream - SFW The Magic of a Kiss

A/N IMPORTANT: I didn't know exactly why but I wanted to write that fun and casual conversation between Sanji and reader remembering their sexy time. But I had to put a little bit of difficulties in it and I hope you will like it. I think to do a second part but I'm not sure yet...

Warning : Mention of a lot of sexual stuff : Oral Man ! and Female ! giving receiving, small bondage, penetration, bruises.

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.

---

The golden light of the sunrise was reflecting in the calm water when Sanji put his feet in the restaurant. Redressing his freshly knotted tie, entering the kitchen like if he wasn’t fifteen minutes late, he suddenly stops on his track. At the instant he saw you, he knew he was screwed.

Not that you looked at him directly, way too busy with the prep for the approaching brunch, neither that you seem mad ,even if your chopped carrots should've been smaller. In fact, he clearly recalled that when he had left your bed this morning, kissing your lips one last time, your naked form reaching for his warmth. You looked quite satisfied and relaxed.

It was not either a sudden burst of love who struck him, even if he always had affection for you, that night was from the start nothing but casual sex.

No, the reason he knew he was himself in deep shit wasn’t either because as he watched you, he could remember every inch of your skin he had feverishly kissed and bite. The problem is if Zeff discovers it. After all, even being his sous chef and prodigy couldn’t help him with the fact that he had fucked all night long his mentor daughter.

" Don’t stay there like if the kitchen was on fire, little eggplant, put on your uniform and start helping " The man himself ordered, busy in his own corner.

Turning your gaze of your carrot to observe Sanji, you smiled.

" Good morning Sanji " You said, your tone letting know nothing of your previous meeting in the dark.

" Good Morning Y/N " He replied, as he put on his white jacket, a thin smile you didn’t quite know, of his lips.

" Did you sleep well, you seem a little bit…tired" You sweetly replied, returning to your carrots.

" Yeah I had a short night…" He confessed, watching you, a warning in his eyes.

" If you would stick to the menu, you wouldn’t be up all night thinking about some recipe I won’t allow in the restaurant and sleep like everybody else. " Zeff declared, lifting the heavy potato sack.

" If we didn’t serve the same stuff everyday that restaurant would be less shitty " The blond retorted, starting to peel the vegetables, his anxiety slowly melting as he returned to his usual fight with the old man.

—

It seemed an eternity before you could remove your cooking clothes. Due to the celebration yesterday, many cooks were sick, making your father and the other employers double their shift. Like if you needed it, with the little sleep Sanji and you had. But, as you return to the empty kitchen, already dreaming of the softness of your bed, you notice the blond chef still busy chopping mushrooms.

" What are you doing ? " You couldn’t help yourself to ask, curious as to why he hadn’t headed to his bed for a well deserved night of sleep. " You should go to bed I’m pretty sure those mushroom will still be there tomorrow "

" Well, I kind of have a hard time trying to get out of my head the idea of your dad discovering what I have done to you" He replied unamused, stress and guilt clearly eating him from the inside. " You see I have a sentimental attache to most of my limbs and other parts"

" Sanji, I would never tell him, we have been super discret and if I recall it clearly you aren’t alone in this. I had pretty vivid memories of sucking your dick until you begged me in french to stop " You teased, sitting on the counter.

" Like if you hadn't melted at the minute I put my mouth on you" He mocked, this time his tone almost like his usual confident self. As he abandoned his task to face you. " And I really had to remind you that cute gasp you did when I push my finger on that sweet spot you never reach yourself "

" It’s true it was a great discover, that you proudly celebrate " You conceded showing the hickeys on your clavicle "Maybe you didn’t gasped, but, I heard you a lot moaning and groaning, particularly when I was on top"

" I have no excuse, your vision was magnificent and the feeling was incredible ." He replied " But I still regret the death of my tie "

" It was for a great cause, that orgasm was one of the best I had. It’s a good thing your hand had muffled my scream because I was pretty sure I would have awake all the ship" You laugh, gladly remembering being hang by the hand to the wooden bedpost as Sanji was supported your leg around his hips thrusting in you as his life depended of it. Lucky for both of you, your bedroom was at the far end of the bedrooms corridor with no express neighbor.“ I will buy you a new one since I broke it. Even if it’s, you, who had bring it in bed "

" No need, I have many that look similar. Nobody will notice. But I will have to be careful to not be seen topless for a while. I'm glad your nails are short for cooking, my back looks like I had a fight with a cat over a fish. "

" It’s your fault, my leg was already shaking and you didn’t stop, I was on the edge of passing out ! "You protest laughing. " You deserve the scratch for making me lose my mind."

" It’s an honor I accept gladly “ He proudly said, joining you in your laugh. " I admit that my own orgasm was way better than usual, I remember you moaning quietly in my ear even if I’m not quite sure what you said."

" Sanji, at this point I’m pretty sure I could’ve whispered to you the recipe of an Apple Pie and you would have come. You were so close, trying to keep your control, I still have a faint bruise of your hand on my hip."

" Isn't it when I eat you out during round two that I left that mark ? I had to keep you in place pretty hard, you were rolling your hips and didn’t want to stop moving "He recalls, a huge grin now on his face. " I still can heard you - Please Sanji don’t stop, don’t stop "

"Ha ha ha " You rolled your eyes, still smiling at the memories." Sanji, I think we both really need to sleep, but I had to know...are we okay ? I will not talk to my dad about it, you will not too and we will live with that happy memories without a problem. We are just two friend and coworker who’s during the anniversary of their restaurant decide to casually fucked. Right ? "

" Yes, exactly," He confirmed, cleaning his area.

" Perfect, good night Sanji " You said, kissing his cheeks before jumping off the counter and exiting the kitchen.

" Good night Y/N " The blond replied, watching you go.

Now he knew he was totally screwed. Even though he hadn't truly lied, he was now reassured that your father will never know. He knew that he wasn’t clearly okay with this casual arrangement anymore. He knew at first that it wasn’t the idea of the century but after that night and the sweet way you look at him, always caring for him when nobody seem to, he couldn’t hide the issue anymore, he was slowly falling for you and he already know it, it's will hurt like hell.

---

Part two ?

#opla!sanji x reader #sanji x reader #one piece netflix #opla #opla sanji #vinesmoke sanji x reader #one piece #one piece sanji #opla vinesmoke sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #opla sanji smut #sanji smut #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji imagine #sanji fanfic

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reodashi · 9 months

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BNHA Smells

M.list

...

Deku - Smells like Spreamint and Lime, it's not strong... But subtle freshness.

Bakugo - He's evil... Unintentionally. He Smells so good, like cinnomin rolls and cookies, but he hates when people get too close.

Todoroki - Subtle lavender from his clothes, and subtle vanilla from his shampoo.

Kirishima - Axe... I love him... But it's axe body spray 100%

Iida - Fresh books, pencils, and oddly cranberries... No one asks why though.

Denki - Probably the second best smelling guy in 1-A, Smells like pumpkin spice and Apple cider... He's aware of it too.

Sero - Very subtle Smells, not strong at all... But vague fresh bread scent.

Uraraka - You know she smells good, she smells like berries, frosting, and candy.

Asui - Grass... It's not bad though. She just smells like fresh cut grass.

Momo - Fancy ass perfume, costed her like 200 bucks just to smell vaguely like vanilla and cocoa powder.

Jiro - I mean this in the best possible way, but basement... Not grungy or gross, but just that nice rustic smell basements give.

Tokoyami - He got a candle named 'Death' which smells of blackberries and coconut. He's emo and berrylicious.

Shoji - Bamboo, Campfires, and Rain... All depending on the day.

Ojiro - Freshly vacuumed carpet, and if he's felling fancy he uses citrus body wash.

Hagakure - Fruity cereals, strawberry milk, and occasionally hazelnuts.

Aoyama - Everyone say it with me! 👏 Jasmine👏 Starbucks👏 and cake batter👏

Sato - Duh, flour, cake, fresh pastries, and Gingerbread.

Koda - This one is hard... He either smells like a summer garden or farm hay...

Mineta - B.O. which he says is his natural musk. And sometimes tries to hide it with axe.

Aizawa - Apple pie, fireplaces, and fresh blankets. He Smells cozy.

Allmight - He Smells like pubs... Even though he doesn't got there often... He also smells a bit like blood.

Endeavor - He Smells like charcoal, gasoline, and arrogance. He Smells like he tries to hard, which is ironic since he didn't even try hard to become #1 hero since it was just handed to him after Allmight. 👀 And never tried hard to be a good dad👀

Present Mic - He Smells like fresh technology, you know when you unbox a phone and it smells similar to a fresh phone... It's like that.

Miss Midnight - She smells like Jasmine, aphrodiacs, and rose petals... Very flirty scents.

Nezu - Hamster food and coffee... I said what needed to be said.

Eri - She smells like candy stores, carnival sweets, and fresh plushies.

Hawks - He's a mix... His breath is minty fresh, his hair smells like masculine cologne, but his clothes smell like leather even though they aren't made from leather.

Mirko - *the lingering affection from simps* Jk... Sort of. She smells like protein shakes, new shoes, and carrot cake.

Shinso - Tea, coffee, energy drinks... Anything he consumes that helps him stay awake really...

Shigiraki - I know he smells dusty, he smells like mothballs, alleyways, and Walmart 100%

Toga - She smells like blood, I mean it's inevitable due to her quirk. Other than blood, she smells like cheap makeup, like the really chemically smelling stuff.

Dabi - *Daddy issues and burnt* He smells like hot summer days, peanut butter, and bleach due to his hair dye.

Twice - Beer, cigetettes, fresh pavement, and depression.

Overhaul - He smells fine, he smells like chalk and tree bark... But his mask smells NASTY, the bitch never cleans it.

...

#bnha #bnha denki #bnha fluff #bnha headcanons #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bnha smut #anime #anime and manga #bnha smau #bnha fic #bnha headcannons #bnha hcs #bnha hawks #bnha memes #my hero academia #mha

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pastafossa · 3 months

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How do you get past writer's block? I have a fic that I'm working on that is updating on a schedule, and I made the mistake of giving myself a month off in between parts and now I can't really get back into writing it. I don't want to leave it abandoned because I have a few people who I know are really invested and I don't want to leave them hanging, but I'm having a hard time getting as excited to write it as I did before.

Ok so I'm in a weird place for this, hilariously. Because The Answer That Usually Works For Me (TM) and that carried me through a regular weekly update schedule for almost two and a half years is, in fact, not at present working for me apparently my brain can write through a pandemic but not through recovery from the shit that went down in December/Jan so we found my writing kryptonite. However, I'm going to assume you're closer to 2021 Pasta than 2024 Pasta. SO LET'S GO WITH THE METHOD I NORMALLY USE SINCE IT WAS SUCCESSFUL FOR YEARS. Cause that's the thing: sure, I've written almost a million words, and pumped out chapters for years (ignoring the past few months) but I promise, I hit the same walls as everyone else even when nailing weekly uploads. But over those years, I came up with a fairly solid list of steps that I'd go through one by one.

Fun one first: when I'm in a block, I almost always try re-engaging with canon first. I'd rewatch my favorite episodes, binge a whole season, or even the whole series depending on how much of a boost I needed. For me at least that was often like Pavlov's bell, my favorite story triggering a flood of affection. I'd remember why I loved this fandom and the characters so much, and it could often kickstart my brain and excitement back into gear. If you really want to dangle a carrot and your fic touches on canon, focus on watching parts you're excited to get to in your story. A big one for me in TRT for example was the post-Nobu, Nelson v. Murdock episode, since I'd had that planned for TRT almost since the start, and I was very excited to reach the hurt/comfort I had planned. Even if your fic isn't following canon though, see if it'll give you a creative rush again!

So let's say step 1 doesn't work, either because the canon just isn't hitting the spot or because your fic is dealing with something else. In this case, my next step was usually to jump ahead to write a scene I was really eager to get to. It was often a short blurb, but it was always something I REALLY wanted to explore, and because I'm also a reader who likes exactly the tropes and plots I'm writing, I want to read what fucking happens. Except, fuck, I'm not there yet, am I? And I can't see how that scene finishes until I write my way up to it and finish it. This is my own carrot. Multiple scenes in TRT were written months or even years in advance, simply as a way to bribe myself. This is also an option!

But maybe this doesn't work. Sometimes it didn't. This is when it got a bit more serious. For anyone who was reading at the time, you'd have noticed that I'd sometimes drop side fics, either Matt POVs or one-shots. This was me, in essence, working on the shower principle (basically, ideas/solutions will come if you stop thinking about it and do something else, like take a shower). I figured if I went and wrote something else - either with less stress, or something fun and dopamine-inducing - the part of my brain focused on my Big Fic would wander around the writer's block beneath my notice. And it almost always worked, all while I still kept my brain trained that, hey, even if we're not writing This Thing, we're still writing.

But let's say this doesn't work either. You're well, and truly, stuck. Been there now and then. And, you're going to hate this one. I hate it but it works 9 times of 10. And it is: Write anyway. Half of it was spite. I was not going to give up my schedule, I liked my schedule. The other half was that I knew myself. I knew if I could just get past the chapter/plot/dialogue I was struggling with, I'd be able to roll along again. And so I made a rule: whatever I wrote didn't have to be pretty. It just had to exist. If that meant I wrote, "Jane chased the cat in circles and caught it. She was happy." then that's what I wrote. Because everything, EVERYTHING, can be fixed in editing. But you can't fix what doesn't exist. And so there were those nights when I would scowl and groan and snarl and bash my head against that writer's block until 5 in the morning, but in the end Jane chased that fucking cat adn caught it, it was written. Hilariously, sometimes those chapters have wound up amazing (likely because I spent so much time hammering at them) and reader favorites. There are absolutely, I believe, moments where you can, and should, see if you can push through.

But that brings me to *waves* now. A lesson I've only recently recently and with encouragement. Namely... sometimes brain no go and that's ok. My steps work for me 99.9% of the time, but I've done the above during the past few months, and it just... hasn't dragged me out entirely out of it yet. Sometimes, our brains demand that break, especially when things just aren't going great. There's a reason TRT had a break of roughly 2 years between chapter 4 and chapter 5 (feel free to check the chapter index with dates on AO3!). I had some life things happening and I just was not in a place to write, even if I was still busily plotting and planning and thinking about TRT behind the scenes. And that was ok. We're not machines. I came back like a bulldozer in Jan 2021, yes, and bulldozed through weekly updates, but that break was needed. And now I'm obviously taking a short one again while I recover from everything. It's ok if you're not in a place for it. So the last step is one I've been told a lot by dear friends recently as they helped me through this: be kind to yourself, and try not to stress if none of the above works. The story will always be there, and if TRT is any indication through all its highs and lows, your readers will be there when you start up again.

#writer's block #i am on step five if that's not obvious and that's ok #steps 1-4 got me through about 2 years of writing and over a hundred chapters. damn near a mill words.#so i'm VERY confident it works most of the time #or it does for me anyway #just. you know. not all the time #what's funny is i suspect if you read all of trt knowing the above #you'll SEE these moments #moments where i clearly hit a chapter i'd written ahead of time cause it had more detail or more excitement radiating in my notes #alternatively no one has any idea which ones are which which is even funnier to me #look i do not judge *anyone* who just can't do weekly chapter #the pandemic was a weird period where i had the time to do that and the management required to keep up with it outside then is intense #like it's possible. i was doing it before shit started going sideways last year cause that was NOT my year basically from july onwards #but just be kind to yourself about it #the story will come #and your readers will be there for it

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myers-meadow · 2 years

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Serpent Tongue: Valak x reader, Ed Warren x reader

Title: Serpent Tongue

Fandom: The Conjuring (particularly part two, and 'the devil made me do it').

Summary: Valak has his eyes set on a particular brand of torture for the Warrens, involving the protégé that is staying in their guestroom. As helpful as the protégé is to the family, this web of complications may just unhinge everything the Warrens have ever worked for. Temptations become more difficult to ignore, and Valak is not the only one to indulge.

Warnings: 18 +. dub-con, perhaps even non-con depending on interpretation. Sexually explicit content. Rough fucking. Reader is female. Cheating. Degredation. Oral (m receiving), penis in vagina sex. Open ending.

I had such a blast writing this, these little delightful snippits are truly how I enjoy exploring these concepts the most. Please do exercise caution while reading.

Ao3 link. And link to my masterlist.

Wordcount: 3780 words.

Divider by @/firefly-graphics.

I don’t remember how it started. Surely, it was gradual. A secret that grew unnoticed, like a missing hair pin, missing but not missed, nothing big by itself. In the shadows it lived and became more than just a shadow and it spoke to me.

A body pressed against mine at night, in the guest room of a house that should be cleansed of anything evil. A priest blessed it twice a week, and Ed and Lorraine swore it was safe. And if anything was there, she would sense it, and deal with it. Still, it was there, hidden from Lorraine’s gifts, and I sensed it grow stronger over time. The whispers grew louder, the shadows darkened, the touches grew firmer. The temptations… worsened.

“What is your name?” I asked it one night. The weight next to me shifted, a grip on my wrist. It was too dark to really make anything out, yet a pair of yellow eyes stared into mine, just centimetres away. My wrist lifted, moved over my head.

“You smell of blood tonight,” was all I received in return. Even when it released my wrist, I wasn’t in control. It was dream-like. As if consequences didn’t exist. A nose nudged mine and my eyes fluttered shut. A long, thin finger slid down my belly, over my pubic hair, until it reached my folds.

“You’ll surely be disappointed to know I’m only menstruating, and not mortally wounded.”

A quiet laugh sounded. “Shh, I’ll relieve the pain for you.” And the finger curled against a spot that had me whimpering.

During the day, at the library, I felt the presence weighing down each stack of books I moved. The medieval scripts were almost second nature. When I wrote down my name, I elongated the s just like they did. When returning home, my hands were dry from the frequent washing, to make sure the books wouldn’t degrade from the oils on our fingers. At home, it was my turn to cook. Lorraine had taken Judy out for a walk, it was such lovely weather, the tail-end of summer. Jackets left at home. I chopped the carrots with rhythmic precision, hoping to get done on time before Ed got home.

The front door opened and closed, shoes taken off, footsteps.

“In the kitchen,” I called, moving to the stove to stir the onions sizzling in the pan.

Two arms wrapped around my waist. His cologne.

“Hmm, smells good already. Is Lorraine out with Judy?” The vibrations of his voice carried through his chest and into my back. Ed brushed my braid over my shoulder, resting his chin on my crown.

“They’re on a walk,” I replied, trying to continue on cooking. It wasn’t new that he made me nervous, but his affections were changing. He squeezed me into him tightly, before letting go.

“Had a good day today?”

“I suppose. Same old, same old,” I peeked over my shoulder at him. He leant against the counter, arms crossed, looking at me but not at my eyes. “Lizette said that they have an interesting manuscript coming in next week, but there’s been some delays. We’ll see once it gets there, though, if it really has something to offer.”

Before either of us could say anything more, the front door clattered open and the two returned from their walk and the conversation turned to more cheerful things.

That night, the eyes and whispers were back.

“Won’t you afford me one night of peace?” I sighed, finding my breath halted by its proximity.

“It fascinates me how you much you know about me and my kin, yet are so susceptible to temptation.” A hand on my throat, a the pad of a clawed thumb touched my lips.

I scoffed at its words.

“A non-believer, even after all you witnessed,” it continued. “You fascinate me in many ways.”

Suppressing a yawn – it must be after midnight by now – I asked: “How so?”

“I’d almost take it as flattery, how you spend all that time researching me. All those books you search for, that thirst for knowledge – yet I’m right here, always.”

“What is your name?” I tried again, as I did almost every night.

“Wouldn’t that make it easy for you, hmm? No. You enjoy the challenge, but don’t desire the power that comes with the knowledge of my name. You do it for them.”

To devote my life to the Warren’s cause, that was the condition on inhabiting the guest room. To take care of Judy when they were on a case. To do their research, to take care of the house, to be an extra pair of eyes and hands. But all I am is an extra weakness.

The demon huffed, heated breath fanning my face. “You’re no fun today. Tired?”

“Yes,” I replied sharply.

“Why don’t you think of me a little longer?” it murmured, and the heat of his lips connected to mine. The taste of ashes was still there when I woke up.

Another day, a gloomy one. Autumn approached us. Lizette rapped her knuckles against the heavy oaken door of the small room I sat in. The Latin on the page made my head swim, but all I could think of were Lorraine (her glances around the room, to just behind me) and Ed (his health), who were out on a case. Somewhere two states away. It felt wrong to be so far from them, but life trudges on.

“The manuscript you wanted came in a few days ago. Something went wrong with the system, so I wasn’t notified. Would you like to see it now?” she said.

“Yeah, I’ll pick it up. Can’t focus today. Have you had a look at it yet?”

“Ah, a bit, yeah. Neat hand, and it was later edited by another scribe, which is always interesting. It has parts in Latin and in common.”

I stood up, closing the book I was reading in and coiling the string of weights into a spiral. “Not just another one with the 8th century date-rape drugs?”

She barked out a laugh. “Perhaps.”

The book was interesting, went in-depth about the rituals to summon demons. Some of the names I recognised from the Ars Goethia or from other manuscripts upon a first look through the thick pages. If the copy machine wasn’t still broken, I’d have made copies for at home.

Once home, the routine continued. The sizzling of meat in the pan, green beans boiling in the pot next to it; Ed pressing a lingering kiss to my hairline when Lorraine turned her back. I sprinkled parsley from the backyard garden over the potatoes and we sat down to eat.

Lorraine stopped me, in the morning. It was Saturday. Judy had climbed into bed with Ed and they had a lie in, but she had been too awake to go back to sleep and went down for coffee. Finding me in the kitchen, gold rimmed teacup in a trembling hand.

“Good morning,” we exchanged greetings. She seemed tired.

“Wouldn’t you like to sleep some more? Its only 7:30,” I said.

Lorraine shook her head with gentle smile, putting her cup of hot coffee down on the table as she sat down. “Let the two of them have their lay-in without me tossing and turning. How about you, what’s got you up this early?”

Couldn’t help but glance around, check the shadows, but likely he was listening. “The demon you had me research… It feels like I hit a roadblock. I’m sorry I can’t be of any use lately.”

She shifted in her seat, folding her hand over mine, warm with residual heat from the coffee cup. “Dear, why didn’t you tell me how you were feeling earlier? You mean so much to us, even when you’re just here, even if you don’t find anything worthwhile in your research.” She sighed softly, eyes warm, gave my hand a squeeze. “Judy loves having you here too, she said she likes how calm you are, that you don’t make her feel like a freak.”

We chuckled. “Thank you.”

A shadow behind Lorraine moved, but it was gone before I could focus on it. I hesitated. “There’s another thing, too. Have you noticed anything different lately?”

She sat up straight, retracted her hand. Even despite the care she showed others, she guarded herself well.

“What do you mean? If I’ve had any visions?”

I nodded.

She shifted again. “What kinds of visions?”

Avoiding her gaze, I instead focussed on the teacup in front of me. “Do you remember the painting Ed made? The one in-”

“In his office? Yeah.”

“That’s the demon you’re having me research, isn’t it? That’s what you want me to focus on. But the way he appears there is not his real form, so you didn’t tell me.”

She twirled her wedding ring around her finger. “Yes, it is. There is… history there. Finding out anything at all about him is valuable. The fact Ed dreamed about him is already worrying, and now that you’re asking if I’ve noticed anything different makes me believe you have seen him too.”

My voice dropped low, “Only his eyes.”

Her head cocked to the side, examining me, as if she looked right through me.

I shrugged. “And the usual, shadows, noises. Nothing much, but if I can sense it, I’m sure you’re bothered by it even more.”

The night was darker than usual. Awoke to breathing by my ear. Attempting to wave it away and turn on my side was met with pinned hands – fingers interlaced - and a deep kiss to my lips. A forked tongue against mine. I panted as it let up, threw my head back to avoid another lengthy kiss.

“You’re quiet,” I taunted. “Anything the matter?” The venom seeped through my voice. Another punishing kiss. Its teeth cut my lip, copper mixing with the taste of fire. I inhaled sharply as it sucked my lip, darting that split tongue over it. When those yellow eyes bore into mine, I realised they were previously closed and it seemed like it was genuinely enjoying this.

“What is this for?” I hissed, angry at my previous thought.

Finally the demon spoke. “He wants you,” its voice gravelly, something ancient. “I can taste his need, and his guilt.”

Its words felt significant somehow, as if they betrayed something more of its nature.

“You want this to happen. You want him to-”

“Yes? Say it, doll.”

“To hurt Lorraine.”

“Intimately,” it agreed, and kissed me again. A tear leaked from the corner of my eye. His hooked nose rubbing against mine, breathing the same air. It was hot, unbearably hot, underneath the duvet.

“You won’t break her.”

“I’m almost disappointed,” he whispered, voice hoarse, “it seems you’ve given up so easily.”

An unseen force parted my thighs, the weight of him increased, as if he only now became fully corporeal. A knee finding the right pressure to grind against my vulva.

“Never,” I said, before arching up and biting his bottom lip.

Lorraine visited family with Judy, but Ed remained home. He needed the rest, for his health. I flipped through the scans of the manuscript I made. The radio played something soft, something acoustic. Ed looked up from his book to where I sat by the window, his forehead creasing as I caught his gaze.

“Anything interesting in those pages? Come, let me see.” He motioned me over, and I stood up. The alternative would be worse, but the dread in my stomach mixed well into something resembling arousal. Before I could reach the couch next to the chair he sat in, he pulled me down to sit onto his knee, in between his legs. This was fine, this was just- just a thing any fatherly figure would do. Right?

His easy-going smile, the one that won Lorraine over, and his bright blue eyes were for me then. I bit my lip and spread some of the more interesting pages out over his other leg, putting the rest of the stack on the coffee table.

“There are inconsistencies between the original text and the later edits, but it’s difficult to discern. I’m guessing there’s at least a century between the edits, but some seem to be made much later if I look at the script.”

He looked over the passages I pointed too. “The editor was messy.” His hand, big, warm, rested at the small of my back. Even that contact sparked a flurry of butterflies to erupt.

“Messy, but experienced. Even when taking the rhetoric of the time into account, he details several attempts he made, and of why he thinks the experiments didn’t work.”

“Hmm, interesting,” he said, before shifting in the chair, sitting up straighter. The paper forgotten, flittering somewhere to the floor. His other hand on my knee.

My mouth opening as if to say something, which he caught, his expression turning sly. Hand from knee up to shoulder, to cheek, to the back of my neck. I braced myself against the back of the chair as he tipped my balance over, enough to fall into him, weight crashing into his broad chest.

A messy kiss, teeth clashed from the surprise of tumbling. I braced my forearms against the back of the chair, chests pressed together. A forceful hand tipping my face to deepen the kiss. He tasted of coffee, warm, human. With a start I realised I hadn’t kissed another human being in over a year. Ed pulled back, resting his forehead against mine.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that.”

“Fuck,” I mumbled.

He chuckled. “You’re more than this good girl façade you show us, ain’t you?” Nipped my lip. “Well, show me.”

Showering that evening, alone. The water rushed over my face, I squeezed my wet hair and scrubbed my scalp. The lights flickered briefly and I felt it close in on me.

“Your guilt tastes different from his,” it spoke, disembodied. Lights went dim, I pushed open the shower curtain, saw the switch flip off.

“Quit messing around,” I protested, almost believing I deserved the torture for what I did. Expecting it to taunt me so more, then leave, I continued showering.

From the shadows formed a shape, something that sucked all light into it, something impossible to focus on. The eyes were brighter than ever, and it stepped behind the shower curtain, into the small space of the bath with me.

“You taste… sweet.” Clawed hands reached out to me, spun me around, my back to its chest. “Sweet and sticky, like honey. Can you see how my hands are coated in it?” A dreamy sigh, hands kneading my hips. Trying my damnest to ignore him, I rinsed all shampoo from my hair, then reached for the body wash. It was the one Lorraine used, vanilla and magnolia blossom scented.

“That’s just the soap,” I replied stubbornly, tone bitter. “You’re showing off, I take it you’ve been eating well?”

The creature was so tall it enveloped me, bending over to kiss and lap its forked tongue at my wet skin as I soaped myself. “He was the meal, you’re the dessert. Now I’m wishing I hadn’t had so much of him, so I could enjoy you more.”

Its groping hands made cleaning myself frustrating; they were quick to return each time I pushed them off. When I elbowed him, that was when the jig was up. A low growl, inhuman, dangerous, and instead of a tongue, now it was teeth and claw. A pull at my hair, making me look up into its demonic face as it hung above me, and punished me with a kiss that made my lips bleed. In panic, I turned the nob, the water briefly scalding hot before I managed to turn it off. Heaving, pressed my hand to my bleeding lips, and the demon had vanished.

Both of them grew bolder. For Ed, there was only one boundary: not in the their bed. Anywhere else, though, was fair game.

The Sunday chores; laundry day. I was at the ironing board, positioned one of his button ups, before pressing the hot iron into each crevice. His big hands over the sensitive spot where the demon clawed at my hips the night before, so I brought one of them up to my breast. He took to it greedily, kissing my ear and neck.

“Look at you, bein’ all good for me. I’m glad I’m the only one who can see this side of you,” he said, hot by my ear, before suddenly stopping and turning me around.

“Honey, what are those? Are those bitemarks?” he asked, voice alarmed, rubbing the spot at the crook of my neck. “What could have done this?”

I shrugged, avoiding his eyes. “It’s nothing.” Unconvincing. Terrible performance. I sighed, daring one look at his worried face. “Ed, do you remember the demon that you painted?”

“It was a demon? Oh, little one,” his voice lowered. “I knew there was more to you,” a growl, eyes burning with something animalistic. The shift felt unnatural. “Has it tasted you like I taste you now?”

I whimpered into his mouth as his hand constricted around my throat. Hand digging into the raw skin where he first spotted the marks, he pushed me down on my knees.

“You witch, I can’t believe we’ve let a temptress stay in our home.” The edge to his voice was dangerous, cruel. It crushed my heart, although it was foolish of me to hope he really did care for me.

“Ed, please,” I tried, but was met with the unbuckling of his belt.

The demon was delighted that night. It rubbed the bruises from Ed’s hands on my hips, right by its own claw marks. The yellow surrounded by darkness, the lifting of the duvet to make space for its body. Its new, corporeal body.

“Doesn’t it feel good to be desired? Wasn’t that what you wanted, to be needed so deeply?”

I gasped against its cheek as it pressed down on a bruise.

“You liked him right from the beginning, and now you’re getting to know the real him. The side of him he can’t show to that lovely wife.”

“You’re cruel,” I bit out, exhausted from the day, “and unfair. This isn’t the real Ed.”

The demon laughed. “I can see into his soul. He wanted you for so long… You, on your knees. Getting to call you all sorts of filthy names, my sweet witch, the one to aid my will. You may as well give me more now, he already thinks you’re mine.”

Hair brushed from my face, forked tongue dancing over closed lips. So tired that I opened up and let him indulge.

He hummed. “Delicious. Why don’t you go to sleep, doll? Let me help you to sleep. It’s only fair I reward you for doing so well.”

And he did, making my head swim, stealing my breath with kisses, rocking its cock in and out, slow, deep, making my toes curl even when half-asleep.

Quickies were Ed’s favourite. Any opening to shove himself into me was taken with glee. Somehow he was exactly the same as he always was, when we weren’t alone. A wink during dinner sometimes, or an extra hand on my back. If Lorraine noticed, she didn’t let it show. There was barely anything to notice, Ed was the perfect husband.

But with me, he was unbelievably different.

“Say you want it, whore,” he bit out between clenched teeth from behind me. The vase on the kitchen table wobbled with each thrust. Roses Ed gave to Lorraine after their anniversary last week.

I gripped the table for some semblance of support and did as he demanded. “Fuck me, please, I need you to take me.”

His gruff voice by my ear. “You feel so good, you succubus bitch. Don’t even have the dignity to feel guilty for tempting a man of god.”

I couldn’t help pushing myself up and turning my upper body toward him. “Ha, you’re weak of flesh, then.”

A smack to my ass, stinging even as his hand returned to the back of my neck. “Open your mouth,” his barely restrained anger distorting his voice, each thrust drove against the mouth of my womb, painful but so good. My eyes wide, trying to control my spasms each time he pounded my insides, I opened up.

With just a movement of his lips as warning, he spit in my mouth. The act of it was obscene, but I moaned before realising it, eyes unfocussed.

Each time he worked me over, I saw stars, and when my mind refocused, the normal, adoring Ed returned. He held me after, on the couch, legs slung over his, petting my head.

“It will be alright, don’t you worry, my little one,” he whispered softly as his steady movements brought me down from whatever high I was on.

“I’m still worried,” I said.

“No need, love.” He pressed a kiss to my temple. He was warm. His fingers smelled of newspaper ink, I kissed each of them. “We’re a strong team, and I’m so grateful you came to us.”

The demon showed a tenderness that Ed didn’t seem capable of when we were intimate.

“You’ve ruined my life,” I told the yellow eyes, before turning on my side, trying to sleep. Trying to refuse him with the little means I had against a demon.

“I’ve given you everything you wanted. I fulfil your every desire, and even now,” a clawed hand opened my legs, the shadow above me kissed its way down my neck, “after such mean words, I’ll satisfy you some more.”

“It’s only a matter of time before Lorraine finds out. Or I’ll tell her. And then I’ll be thrown out and you’ll lose your plaything.”

He laughed, the sound vibrating through the hollow in my lungs. Mouth went down, spending extra time on each nipple, forked tongue flicking the sensitive nub, before licking down my stomach. “It’s amusing you think I’d let you go so easily. You’ll be by my side, as I sit on my throne in hell. I’ll have you then too, for the rest of eternity.”

I scoffed, before the words seeped in fully, then stopped. His tongue lapped at my heat, his hands keeping my hips steady.

“You’re too perfect like this.”

When Lorraine found out, it was somehow worse than I imagined. ‘It was the demon that corrupted us,’ said Ed, ‘I never wanted to. She looked just like you to me.’

And she believed him.

#ed warren x reader #valak x reader #ed warren #lorraine warren #demon x reader #the conjuring #the conjuring 2 #the nun #valak #slasher fandom #conjuring fanfic #slasher community #ed warren x lorraine warren #not real person fiction; this is based on the movies alone

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weird0strawberry · 2 months

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hello, its me again I'm going to give you rabbit facts. - rabbits don't like carrots that much actually, having too many can actually hurt their immune systems, its amazing as a treat though, Usually they prefer greens, like Lettuce or Celery, And the tops of carrots are their favorites. - they can pass out from fear / fall over, or even, die from it. - Rabbits are very sensitive creatures and need a based diet with fruits, vegetables and most preferably store made kibble. If their diet is interrupted, or say they only get potatoes for multiple months, that can lead to lots of issues for the rabbit and lead to problems with their stomach, or even problems with their movement skills, since rabbits need a very special diet! - Rabbits love cuddling eachother, they love affection in general, rabbits will rub their noses together as affection, or even play fight / chase eachother around, rabbits that are bonded will groom/clean eachother regularly and cuddle at bedtime, they need someone to have with them or they will become lonely and depressed, if their rabbit friend suddenly disappears they will also get sad and grieve, a good way to keep a rabbit from being depressed is giving them a stuffed animal that resembles a rabbit that has furr they can clean or mimic grooming with, and cuddle. They're very social creatures. - Rabbits feet are very sensitive, they need to have a place to stand on that isn't hot or hard on the feet, like, wood as an example, usually cages with bottoms that are empty have wooden platforms for the rabbit to stand on, since without those they can get soles on their feet, or they can loose some motor skills. - Rabbits ears are very sensitive, they need to be cleaned regularly by either the rabbit itself or their mate, If not cleaned regularly they will get infections easily, which are nasty. - Rabbits do not like ducks. - Rabbits usually have a lot of energy and are very agile creatures, being in a cage all day is very bad for them if they cannot run around enough, letting them out of the cage is good for them and letting them run around your house or outside is something that can keep your rabbit healthy and happy. - Rabbits are very prone to overheating. - Again with the potato thing, usually with my experience atleast rabbits aren't very fond of potatoes, they prefer more green vegetables, my rabbits always chose lettuce or celery over potatoes, even strawberries. Or any other plant i offered. i love rabbits if you want more lmk

so what I’m hearing is that Pandora’s vault,,, might not be the most enriching environment for rabbits lol

but as for rabbit hybrid c!dream god,,, it would be fucking tragic that hey, even if c!q didn’t particularly target mobility or his feet or burn him, just the mere fact of being in Pandora’s vault is doing permanent damage. Torture made it worse, but some of the hardest to recover from things are just collateral damage of the prolonged suffering imprisonment in a lava box and malnourishment/starvation do to someone

also hhhh c!punz/c!techno/someone tenderly bandaging damaged feet/ears that c!dream just got so used to ignoring… a wound left to fester so long, it’s become part of you… a mark for c!sam to be proud of

#alos v sry that this is late<3 I would love more bunny/rabbit stuff!#also u mentioned the thing with duck and now I’m imagining c!dre making #growling and hissing sounds and q furiously quacks at him LOL #it v funny in my head #ghostywisp #weird asks

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trainingdummyrabbit · 4 months

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Woe. Extended Cocoa Monologue Be Upon Ye.

So. Her name is Cocoa. Theoretically. She's been around for a pretty long time, if not the longest when going by current employee terms. She's the one who works with Nothing There because shes the only one who. Can. A bit odd, she's almost entirely mute aside from a handful of phrases and words, and occasionally mimicking things said to her recently. She's considered to be a bit airheaded, not really paying attention to her surroundings and more often than not just kind of... cycling around the facility when not on the job.

She does a lot of things that would Seem normal on first glance, but are just.. kinda strange, when you actually pay attention to her. Like background actors pretending to be passerby, but when they get a lil silly with it and start like. Putting whipped cream on a carrot and eating it raw. Y'know. Girl Things. Most folks don't give her much mind aside from common pleasantries-- mostly because she just doesn't answer anything else. She just kinda stares blankly, no thoughts head empty, as if she doesn't understand. She's just silly that way though, so nobody minds.

When shes given a task, though, she's just. Entirely Different. Shes very methodical, cutting straight to the point-- oftentimes literally. It's where her experience with the whole Being A Lobcorp Employee really makes itself obvious. She can take a Lot of shit and just... Wont Die. She just gets back up! Easypeasy. It's almost mechanical-- and she barely seems affected at all by any of the Horrors(tm) that come with the whole... y'know. When it comes down to it, shes a little scary.

Nobody really Knows this necessarily, but before she was an agent, she was actually a clerk ! :] She just kind of... did her job. Was polite and enthusiastic, all that good stuff, model employee or whatever. but then, evidently, there was a pretty bad abno breach at some point, and she completely managed to hold her own, going so far as to be Almost Helpful! Astounding ! So they moved her around to being a fully functional agent! Something that has absolutely no consequences whatsoever !

. So, the horrors, right? Stepping out of exposition speak, Cocoa is an exploration on the split between human, monster, and object-- and what it means to define yourself within those terms. (It's honestly a common theme between the group as a whole, but they all tackle it differently.) Cocoa-- previously known as Holly-- was pretty much always a Highly Volatile person. Not that she ever showed it. A lot of her hinges on her desperate desire to be seen as Worthwhile, to be worthy of being kept around. Truthfully? She was always terrified of death.

She knew how the world worked. Either you made yourself useful and did what you were supposed to, or you were thrown out to the cruel whims of what the world does to people like her. She was, functionally, a Nobody. And she knew this. So she did her best to fit into the vision of somebody Useful. Polite, easy to herd around, noncombative-- all that stuff. It was grating, sure, but anything to keep her out of the bad books of people who could so easily crumble her already fragile life without a second thought. It was just what she needed to do.

So um. Unfortunately, pinning your entire identity on the whims of a conglomerated image of "other people" was never really sustainable. Not even remotely. Especially not for somewhere like the city. These sorts of things contradicted themselves, looped around, formed uncrossable chasms of expectation that she could never live up to even if she tried. And god, did she try. Constantly putting up a front was exhausting, but rewriting yourself completely every time you moved somewhere new? god can you even imagine.

She was just about Always tiptoeing a thin line between roles, teetering delicately between the gazes of those above her. Any action or expression or emotion contradicting from that image had to be immediately smothered, every step out of line earned a warning shot from herself that nobody else could really see. So like, no pressure!

So, going into Lobcorp, she was a model employee, secretly harboring the unstable energy of a dying star. Easypeasy. The abno escape was, as the kids say, "the last fucking straw in her miserable life," and she kind of just. blacked out, woke up, and it was over. She helped about as much as a clerk Could, but the fact that she was alive was an anomaly. Again, she is very very good at just... Staying Alive, when she shouldn't. So that was a pretty good vouch for her skill, even if she didnt present that at first. She, obviously, was pretty nervous about the whole thing, but if this is what she was being told to do, then so be it! Easypeasy! No big deal ! I'm sure Lobotomy Corporation is just an office comedy! She is very normal.

So, again, the thing about Holly is just that she. Doesn't Die. But the people around her sure do!! What happens around here is a bit of a blur, both to me and to her, but the long and short of it is pretty much this. Through the course of her acting as a full-title Agent, it did, shockingly in fact, Make A Lot Of Her Issues Worse ! Now not only did her Own life rest in her hands, but also a bunch of other people's! Crazy how that works.

She seems perfectly fine, mostly just because her immediate instinct in stress is to just. shut off. Panic, fear, anger-- none of that has any place in the role of a Useful Employee. She can't have doubts, cant have regrets, she just has to Move. So she just lets her body do what needs to be done, and tunes back in when everything is over again. It's not Easy getting to know people in a situation like that, but somehow she Did actually manage to make a friend! Though, I suppose, not that difficult, because "being friendly" is a very good Employee Trait to have, so obviously she has it. But, well, it Was nice! Was. Lobotomy Corporation Is A Tragedy ! Whoops.

So obviously, having a small bit of solace taken away from you is, to put it lightly, Not A Great Experience. But well, it wasn't exactly just that necessarily. To her, that person was everything that any model person Should be. Effortlessly. Intrinsically. They simply Were, and through the plain act of Being A Person, Unapologetically, was... well, it was refreshing! Silently, it was everything Holly Wished that she could be, but just couldn't gain the courage to reach. It wasn't even any huge event that killed them, it was just... some stupid mistake. The core of it simply came down to... well, if they couldn't do it, how could she? Her, hoping to be better than someone like that? Was that even possible? And this is about where things start . going sideways.

So. Her whole deal with Nothing There. It wasn't anything big. Not really, in the grand scheme of things. In all honesty, it was more of a Resignation. At this point, she'd already been kind of spacey and distant-- even for her own standards-- so of course, nobody would really notice much of anything. (Again, another good trait of a Useful Employee.) Working with NT for the first time was. odd. Nobody really knew what to make of it at the time, but Holly hadn't died Yet, so she was as good a choice as any. And seeing the damn thing, well. yeah, it was disgusting, but it wasn't what affected her the most. Rather, it was when it tried to start Speaking.

Calling it Horror isn't exactly correct, but it wasn't exactly... incorrect, either. All she could really do was watch it try to form words over and over, messy and stilted, inherently flawed. A crude imitation of something she should understand. Disgusting, sure, but not for the right reasons. Because all she could really see was a microcosm of herself. A horrible little excuse for a creature trying to pretend to be human, pulling itself together by the seams and stumbling over and over, painfully close yet uncomfortably alien to those it was trying to imitate. And she could only watch, as emotions she'd done her best to suppress slowly clawed their way back up.

It was then she had a choice. To confront what exactly it was that she'd been desperately locking away, that raging sensation of emotion, of desire, of anything-- or to resign herself into disappearing completely, letting herself drop all of the baggage of that flawed facade of "humanity" and allowing it to be replaced with... for lack of a better term, a Variable. an Anything Else. But... she was never very good at confronting herself, was she? So she sat down, and began correcting the entity's speech, forming both It and Her back into the shape that they "should" be. And at the same time, letting go of a "self" that could no longer exist anymore.

The thing about her, simply, is that-- again-- she doesn't die. Not the way that people do, not the way that people Should. But then again, "Holly" hasn't existed for a long time, by the start of everything. Anyone who Knew who she was never really had the chance to, with the way she was-- not that any of them were alive to be able to tell. She never answers anyone asking what her name is. or what her job is, or... well, much of anything. So people just call her Cocoa, because that's the only thing she seems to like :) And well, people say it confidently enough that others just Believe them, and Cocoa doesn't care enough to correct them, so like. whatever. Cocoa is here to do her job. Nothing more, nothing less. And nobody is going to stop her, because she's damn good at it. Nobody knows there was even a problem to begin with. Silently, wordlessly, the "person" she used to be simply... disappeared. And nobody was there to hear it. Which makes things... difficult.

Because she doesn't remember any of that. None of her peers do, either. She feels "fine," simply enacting whatever it is she needs to do. And because of that, people simply just Believe Her. It was as if "she" had never really existed at all. And at the end of it all... she was entirely indifferent. There was work to do, you know? No use worrying over some kid who couldn't handle the pressure. Happens all the time, right? And so the world moves on, without a second thought.

Not a second thought at all.

#pikocs #projmoon #long post #LONG fucking post i mean it #reading this back is so funny. 'stepping out of exposition speak--' No The Fuck You Aren't #anyway this is my little beast she can be trusted adn she is so so normal. perceive her at yuor soonest convenience <33 #i also. want to put down that ive been writing this group Before i read wonderlab which makes several things. VERY funny.#like. this isnt even the funniest bit. but um; thats an aside;#anyway this is like; an entire offshoot branch of Lcorp for context; and a lot of logistics im working out still #and a lot of logistics im just 'ehhh whatever' about so ^w^#but theyre just a horrible little jumble of 'oh god oh fuck oh shit' and th worlds most Unfortunate timing #and the worlds most Characters of ever who simultaneously make each other better and Significantly Worse <333 #ill uh. ill get to everyone eventually. probably. wapow ✌

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minty-mumbles · 11 months

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Shifting Hues (Ch. 3.2: Lavender Cloth)

Summary: A fic that follows Wild’s journey to discover themselves. This chapter: Wild has a chat with Malon, and Hyrule tries to offer some advice

A/N: Thank you to @breannasfluff for helping me out with this chapter. Also happy pride month :)

(Read on AO3)

~~~

The scents wafting through Malon’s kitchen are heavenly, and Wild takes a moment to breathe them in and appreciate it. It’s been a while since Wild’s had the luxury of cooking inside with a real fireplace and oven, so they’d jumped at the opportunity to join Malon in the kitchen.

The fact that helping Malon also got Wild out of spending the rest of the evening doing chores was only a bonus.

Don’t get them wrong; Wild loves horses and most other farm animals. (Barring the Cuccos. Wild simply holds a healthy respect for those birds.) But despite their love for animals, Wild doubts that they could ever become a farmer. Having to muck out stables and milk cows is not their idea of fun.

Wild hadn’t been the only one who would’ve loved an excuse to get out of chores. Warriors in particular had sent Wild a somewhat nasty look when the Champion had nearly ran out of the barn to help Malon with cooking. However, Wild was the only one who had enough competence to help in the kitchen. That, and the other heroes were looking forward to seeing what the two of them would make for dinner. So there hadn’t been that much grumbling when Wild had fled the barn.

Malon had shared a wink with them as they entered the house and she directed them to go wash up. Apparently, she also didn’t mind the break from farm work. When Time had been away, Malon had done more than her fair share of running the farm. Now that Time was back, along with many extra pairs of hands, he hadn’t hesitated to insist she take the day off from farm work.

Malon had let Wild choose the menu for tonight, and Wild had decided to make a veritable feast. They might’ve gone a little bit overboard in choosing what dishes to make, but Malon had raised no complaint. She’d simply smiled at them with a hint of amused affection in her eyes. Wild turned away to hide the way their cheeks warmed.

If the first time the group had visited the farm had been any indication, the chores would be done sooner than expected with all the extra help. The other heroes would have plenty of time to relax before dinner was ready.

With that in mind, Wild sets about preparing something small for them to nibble on while they waited for dinner to be done. Some freshly cut vegetables from the ranch’s garden, a bowl of roasted nuts, and a pitcher of freshly squeezed lemonade took up residence on the dining table, waiting for the hungry heroes who would soon come into the house. After a moment of hesitation, Wild spikes the lemonade with a splash of chilly elixir to help everyone cool down after a day spent out in the sun. Hopefully, that would be enough to stall any grumbling, either from the heroes or their stomachs.

With that settled, Wild heads out of the house and around the back to Time and Malon’s personal garden. After a brief deliberation, they pull up some carrots and parsnips. Soon, the vegetables are scrubbed clean, chopped, and tossed into the roasting pan with the rump roast of a wild boar, which Wild rubbed down thoroughly with their own special blend of spices. The vegetables would soak up all the juices from the meat and spices while they cooked and turn flavorful and tender as the meat cooked. That went into the oven right away to slow roast for as long as possible.

As Wild dealt with the main dish, Malon had brought up a large number of potatoes from the cellar and had started preparing them. A large pot had been set to boil over the fire, ready to receive the potatoes. They would be boiled until soft, then mashed with butter, a splash of fresh milk, some strong Hateno cheese, and roasted garlic.

Wild toys with the idea of making a light mushroom soup to serve with the main course, but quickly dismisses the idea. Soups and stews are a staple of traveling, and while Wild tries to mix it up with a curry or stir fry every once in a while- anything that could be cooked easily in a single pot– they knew their companions would enjoy a break from soups.

All of the pair’s work is done in relative silence. Both cooks are engrossed in their jobs and feel no need to exchange words besides “pass me that knife over there,” or “where did you put the salt?”

It’s peaceful to be able to cook in a real kitchen again, and Wild and Malon work well together, neither of them having to be instructed on what to do next.

Wild pulls out a second cutting board, starting to help Malon with the potatoes as they contemplate what else to serve. The roast wouldn’t be enough for all of them, and some of the heroes, like Sky, Legend, and Hyrule, didn’t care for red meat.

Wild mentally rifles through all the recipes they know, eventually coming to settle on salmon meuniere. The dish brought good memories to Wild. The first time they'd made the recipe had been for Genli, one of Kass' many daughters. She'd nearly shattered their eardrums with her excited shriek when they’d approached her with the finished dish. It’d made the hours they'd spent gathering the materials and trying to get the recipe just right all worth it.

That, and the dish was truly delicious.

A swishing movement out of the corner of their eye pulls them from their contemplation. A quick turn of their head shows it’s only Malon’s dress flaring out as she twists to grab something off the counter.

For a brief moment, Wild’s reminded of the necklace Riju had been wearing the last time they’d seen her. Malon’s dress is a similar shade of soft purple as the gems Riju had worn.

Now thoroughly distracted from their task, Wild’s movements turn robotic. Their mind wanders back to the subject that’d been consuming them lately. It had become a little troublesome, with how much the topic still weighs on their mind.

They wished they could talk to Zel about this. She would understand, and even if she didn’t, it would be nice to just get their thought’s off their chest. Unfortunately, Wild was hundreds of miles and thousands of years away from Zel, and surrounded by people who didn’t know who Wild really was.

Another swish from Malon’s skirt draws their eyes back to the fabric. It’s a pretty pastel purple, which is a subtle flex of wealth that Wild hadn’t expected from Malon or Time. It’s not a bold enough purple to be overly expensive, or the kind that’s reserved for royalty, but it would’ve been expensive cloth. Malon is still wearing her typical apron and yellow neckerchief overtop of it, which dresses it down even more. As Wild stares, they notice subtle embroidery. Little bunches of lavender line the hems of the dress, with flourishes of green leaves.

“See something interesting?” Wild looked up at Malon’s question, finding her staring right back at them.

They turn away to the flush that creeps up their cheeks at being caught staring. “I really like your dress, that's all. It’s pretty.”

“Oh!” Malon blinks in surprise, apparently not expecting that answer. She looks pleased. ”Link got the fabric for me as an anniversary gift a few years back. He probably would’a commissioned someone to make it into a dress for me too, but I like to make my own. I’m the only one who knows how’ta make ‘em fit just right. Premade dresses always seem to have something wrong with ‘em.”

Malon holds out the edge of her skirt for them to feel, which they do after a moment of hesitation. The fabric feels as high quality as it looks, and Wild can tell it’s not something Malon would wear if she were working on the farm. It’s a bit too delicate for that. Wild’s mind wanders as they rub the fabric between their fingers, and something of their envy must show on their face as they inspect the fabric, because Malon looks intrigued. A little confused at Wild’s interest, but not hostile.

“I think I have some of my older dresses in the attic. I’m saving ‘em for if Link and I ever have a- well,” She cuts herself off with a smile, and Wild feels a similar smile tug at the corner of their mouth. The thought of Time and Malon having children makes their heart squeeze. They know it’s something the couple is hoping for, and the two of them deserve to be happy. They deserve to have as many children as they want.

Malon’s fond, love-struck expression makes Wild relax slightly, which means they’re all the less prepared for her next words. Malon shakes her head to dispel the thought she’d been trapped in.

“I think some of them might fit you, if you’d like to try them. I think you’d look pretty in them.”

Wild stiffened, their hands which had gone back to steadily chopping potatoes freeze instantly. Their heart is beating swiftly in their chest. Some kind of fluttery, light feeling rises in their stomach, but it brings along a dread that crawls under their skin.

Pretty.

Pretty pretty pretty pretty prettyprettypretty

Their brain frantically grabs hold of the word, turning it over and over obsessively in their mind, as if that will reveal some secret hidden message. Wild curses the fact that they hadn’t been looking at Malon when she’d said it. They weren't good at reading facial expressions, but they wish they had something to puzzle over instead of just Malon’s voice.

Pretty?

They hadn’t detected any sneer in her voice. She hadn’t sounded like she’d been making fun of them.

Malon had called them pretty. Or… implied it, at least.

“Wild? Are you alright, hon? You don’t have to try on any dresses if you don’t want to.” Malon is trying to reassure them, Wild thinks, and they startle as they realize they’ve been staring at the potatoes on the cutting board in front of them this whole time.

“No one’s ever called me pretty before.” The words slip out without their permission, but they aren’t a lie.

“Oh.” Malon’s expression turns gentle. There’s a small bit of pity in her gaze too, and for once, the emotion doesn't irritate them. Usually, when the topic of his scars come up, people are awkward at best, and downright insulting at worst, whether they intend to be or not.

No one’s ever offered comfort before. No one except Zel ever felt bad for them or told them they were sorry that it had happened. And Zel didn’t count. She had the same kinds of scar they had- the horrific burns that came with surviving an encounter with a guardian. That type of scar was rare to see, and usually only garnered horror or grotesque curiosity.

“I don’t care what I look like,” Wild remarks, still not looking at Malon. The protest sounds hollow and false even to Wild’s ears. It was… partially true. Wild had never put too much thought into their actual appearance before. They’ve worried about whether they looked masculine or feminine, but they’d never bothered with how good they looked. They knew their lifestyle of traveling and fighting didn’t leave much time for appearances.

That didn’t stop people from judging.

Malon hummed a reassurance. “You don’t need to care, hon, at least not if you don’t want to.” Wild nodded. They knew that, but what if they did care what other people thought? What then? Tears prick at the corner of their eyes. They know that Malon can’t see it, turned away as they were, but it still makes their ears turn downward in shame.

“And I know my opinion doesn’t matter, but I think you're beautiful, Wild.” A fat tear rolls down Wild’s cheek, dripping onto their tunic and turning the blue fabric dark as it soaks in.

Malon’s hand cups their cheek, and guides them to look at her. She doesn’t look surprised to see the tear tracks on their face. She simply says “Oh, honey,” and draws them into a hug. She sounds gentle but there’s an undercurrent of sadness that makes the corner of Wild’s mouth twitch downwards as they try not to cry.

Wild can see Malon’s face out of the corner of their eye. Her expression is still concerned but still gentle and caring, and for a second, Wild is stuck with the overwhelming urge to tell her everything.

Could they tell her? Malon is very kind, and she’s married to Time. She knows intimately how the title of hero can affect those who bear it, and that being a hero didn’t mean you had to fit a certain mold.

And if she did react badly- well, Wild doesn’t live in the same era as her. They wouldn’t have to live with her opinion of them.

Could they really tell her?

Wild is halfway through opening their mouth to try and speak through their tears when the front door opens. They can hear Time’s voice call out a greeting, and heavy footsteps making their way toward the kitchen

They try to twitch away from the hug instinctually, never mind the fact that it’s obvious they’re still crying, their shoulders still heaving with every breath. Malon tightens her arms and doesn’t let them out of her embrace. When the door opens, Wild, who’s facing away from it, can't see Time or his expression. They tense under the weight of the old man’s gaze anyways, burying their face in Malon’s shoulder.

There’s a pause as Time takes in the scene. When he speaks, his voice is a little confused, but mostly concerned. “Champion?” Wild doesn't respond, knowing that their voice would waver and crack if they tried to speak now.

When Wild doesn’t respond, Time speaks to Malon instead. “Is he alright?”

Wild can feel Malon shake her head, motioning for Time to leave with one hand. “He’ll be fine. Dinner won’t be ready for a bit. Go back outside.” Wild can’t see the silent conversation taking place between the two, but after a few more seconds Wild can hear Time turn and go back outside without another word.

Wild will have to worry about that later. Hopefully, Time won’t try to ask them or Malon about what just happened. It’s a futile hope- the heroes of Hyrule are all a nosy bunch, Time included. With luck, Malon would head him off, and tell him not to ask Wild about it.

Wild still wasn’t ready to tell any of the other heroes, yet. Their mind goes back to the thought they’d had before Time had opened the door. Could they tell Malon who they really were?

No.

Malon is kind, but Wild isn’t ready to tell a friendly acquaintance one of their deepest secrets. Wild’s only met Malon a few times. In truth, they barely know her. A few hours spent cooking together isn’t enough for them to trust her with this. Wild can think of a whole list of people who deserve to know about this first.

Teba, Yunobo, Sidon, the rest of Wild’s friends in their era, and Malon’s own husband are on that list, along with the rest of the heroes.

Wild spends a moment to think this all over.

Those who wield the sword that seals the darkness all have an undeniable connection. Some of the heroes had proposed that they all shared the same soul, while others thought that they simply shared experiences that no one else– besides possibly their respective princess– could relate to.

Whatever it was, there had always been an underlying sense of trust between them, even the more paranoid like Time and Legend. They trusted each other explicitly to guard their back in battle, but not only that. They’re able to trust each other with their deepest secrets. Things they haven't told anyone else.

Hylia knows that Wild’s admitted some things to the other heroes that they haven’t told anyone before, not even Zel. Things like the fact that they remember how it felt to die, things like how many times they had to use Mipha’s grace on their adventure because they were still so new to the world and had no one to watch their back, things like–

Well. The point was there was a certain vulnerability between the heroes they only shared with each other. Wild brushes away those thoughts before they can overwhelm them.

Wild backs off, wiping at their eyes. This time, Malon lets them go without resistance.

“My offer about those dresses is always open, hon.” Malon’s expression is calm, and Wild can’t tell what she must be thinking. They throw their focus back to their cooking, trying to take their mind off of what just happened.

Wild wonders what the other heroes would think about Wild dressing in women’s clothing. Would they care? Against their will, Wild’s mind flashes back to Warriors jeering tone when he had found Wild’s vai outfit, and they let the thought drift away.

~~~

Time keeps shooting Wild concerned glances over dinner. No one else has caught on to Time’s worry yet, which is a relief. Wild’s sure the other heroes have noticed that they’d been quieter than usual, but it wasn’t odd for the heroes to be more selective with their words at times, Wild included.

Instead of meeting Time’s gaze, Wild busies themself with pushing around the mashed potatoes on their plate. After a while, and what Wild could swear was Malon giving Time a swift kick under the table, Time moves his scrutiny to his own plate.

Wild is finally able to relax minutely, the tension bleeding out of their shoulders. They tune back into the conversations around them.

Closest to them, Hyrule and Warriors are talking, with Legend, Time, and Malon listening in. At the other end of the table, Four, Twilight, and Sky are having a quiet conversion that Wild can’t make out, save for Wind’s occasional loud interjections.

Hyrule speaks, asking a question from Warriors that Wild had missed. “Um, I only named myself Link a few months before I started my first journey. Believe me, the irony wasn’t lost on me.”

Warriors raises an eyebrow at Hyrule as he takes a sip of his drink. “Why did you choose Link, if I may ask?”

Hyrule shrinks into his seat, his eyes darting over to Legend, ears twitching nervously. When he speaks, his voice is even quieter than normal for the soft-spoken traveler. “I had heard stories about the hero who came before me. I was just a kid at the time, but I already knew I wanted to be like him.”

Hyrule makes a slightly strangled noise after he finishes speaking. Wild doubts he meant to say all that, and feels a little bad for the traveler. He’s always been one of the quieter members of the group, and anyone with eyes could tell that he idolizes Legend.

“I assume you didn’t believe it would turn out to be so literal.” Warriors commented. He looks delighted, and Wild suspects the only reason he’s not teasing Legend mercilessly right now is to avoid Hyrule exploding from embarrassment at the dinner table. Wild doesn’t doubt that Warriors will be on Legend's case– and on his nerves–the second Hyrule is out of earshot.

Legend is also steadfastly refusing to look up from his plate, so at least Wild isn’t the only one. He’s pretending not to listen to the conversation, but the bright red ears and emotionally constipated look on his face made it clear that the veteran had indeed been listening.

~~~

Wild finds it hard to fall asleep that night.

The group is split between the ranch’s two guest rooms, and Wild ends up in the room with Legend, Warriors, and Wind. Legend almost immediately claims the single bed, and the rest of them end up setting up their bedrolls on the floor after a token protest from Warriors.

Despite having to lay on the floor, they’re still more comfortable than they are in the majority of the places the group has camped before. There are no sticks or rocks to poke their bedroll, no need to worry about movement or sounds in the dark, no light from the fire, or noises from those on watch to keep them awake.

But despite all this, Wild’s wandering mind keeps them awake until long after everyone else has fallen asleep. The only sounds in the room are the soft, even breathing of the other heroes, and the sun has long since slipped below the horizon, leaving the dim glow of the moon filtering through the open window as the only source of light.

Wild’s mind continues to wander aimlessly, never quite slipping into the sweet oblivion of sleep. No particular thought is keeping them awake, but their mind refuses to settle.

They don’t know how late it is when they finally give up on falling asleep, quietly rising from their bedroll. They make their way out of the room without waking anyone, thanking themself for having the foresight to lay their bedroll the closest to the door.

The house is deathly silent as Wild wanders through it and the stillness of the empty house puts them on edge. The only sound is the consistent tick, tick, tick of the clock in the corner of the entryway. The sound echoes through the rooms on the first floor of the house.

Wild shivers and slips out the front door.

They slowly make their way out to the barn to say hello to both Time and Twilight’s Eponas and sneak them both an apple, which they seem to appreciate. The company of the horses is nice, but Wild’s restless feet carry them onward after only a few minutes.

They end up deciding to head up to the roof of the house. Maybe the fresh air, the sounds of crickets, and being able to see the stars would put them at ease enough to catch a few hours of sleep before the sun came up. It’s a perfect night for stargazing. There isn’t a single cloud out, and a light breeze making the slight humidity not feel too stuffy.

But when they peek their head over the edge of the roof, they discover they aren’t the first one there. Hyrule is sprawled out on his back, gazing up at the stars. Wild considers backing away and finding someplace else to sit, but Wild thinks that they wouldn’t mind the traveler's quiet company.

Hyrule seems to notice them hovering indecisively at the edge of the roof, and he sits up. An inviting smile is sent in Wild’s direction, so they hoist themself over the edge of the roof, flopping down next to Hyrule.

Hyrule is the first to speak. “I saw you go into the barn. Sneaking the horses apples again?” Wild nods, and Hyrule grins. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Time or Twilight.”

Wild laughs, thanking him. Twilight had been getting on them about giving Epona too many treats recently. Wild personally doesn’t think they’d been doing so. Epona is a good horse, she deserves treats.

The two of them fall into a companionable silence after that. It’s nearly a half hour before Hyrule speaks up. “I was thinking about the conversation we had at dinner. About how Warriors and I choose the name Link?”

Wild wonders why Hyrule includes them in the ”we,” as Wild hadn’t participated in the conversation at all. They also hadn't been paying attention for most of it, so they must’ve missed when Warriors had elaborated on his name. They nod in agreement anyways.

“When I was younger I had a… friend, named Navi, who would tell me stories about heroes of ages past. I wasn’t sure when I first met him, but now I think Legend was one of those heroes. I think she even knew Time personally, even if she mostly refuses to talk about him.”

Hyrule must see the odd look Wild shoots him because he elaborates. “Navi is a great fairy, so she’s been around for a while. She basically raised me. Taught me everything I know about magic.”

That made sense. Wild had always wondered about some of Hyrule’s spells. His magic had always felt familiar, giving off the same feeling as the magic of the great fairies Wild knew.

Hyrule continues. “Before that, I was- uh, fairies are all female, and being raised by them doesn’t help with-” Hyrule sighs. “What I mean is, I didn’t really have any role models who were men while I was growing up.”

Wild wants to bury their face in their hands. They had come up here in hopes it would let them relax, but this was not helping.

Hyrule is either oblivious to Wild’s growing stress or continues on despite it. “But the stories about heroes of old- the courage they showed in the face of danger, the sacrifices they made for the sake of others- I decided I wanted to be that kind of person. Long before I ever understood the difference between man and woman, I knew that’s who I was.” Hyrule aims a strange smile at Wild that they don’t understand. It doesn't seem malicious, at least.

Wild wonders what Hyrule’s point was. This conversation is getting a little too personal, a little too close to what had been haunting Wild for months. Why can’t they have a break? They just want a break from worrying about what they are and if they should tell anyone.

“Why didn’t you say that all at dinner? Why tell me now?” They ask.

“I just thought you might need to hear it, that’s all. Also, Legend would combust if I told him that.”

“You mean you would combust if you did?” Wild teases. They’re deflecting, they know they are, but their heart is pounding too fast to care.

Thankfully, their distraction works, or at least Hyrule is willing to let the previous conversation go. He laughs, an embarrassed flush crawling over their cheeks, just like it had at dinner.

‘I just thought you might need to hear it.’ What had Hyrule meant by that? Their mind whirls, and they have to focus on keeping their breathing even. In the quiet of the night, any unsteady breathing would be easily noticed.

After that, the conversation falls back into the usual routine of banter and soft laughter. Wild’s breathing becomes easier, and his heart slows, but they still wonder why Hyrule felt the need to share that with them.

A heavy kind of sorrow wells in their stomach, and their mind swirls with questions that they can’t answer.

Why couldn't Wild have had a crisis over their identity and realized that they were just being silly? That those feelings they were having were due to something else, and they really were a man? Why couldn’t they have become more assured in their own identity, instead of feeling like their soul had been ripped open and rearranged?

Humiliation burns at them. They were supposed to be the hero. They were meant to be the kind of man that children were told bedtime stories about. They were meant to be that famous figure that looms in the public consciousness. They were supposed to be the fabled hero that was always unquestionably and recognizably a man.

And sure, Wild had defeated great evil, even if it took them a while to finish the job, and they’ve fought monsters, and sacrificed everything they were for the good of the people. This was all true.

But it was also true that every time they looked at their body, their brain told them it was wrong, wrong, wrong.

If Wild truly had to feel like this, why couldn’t they have been more like Hyrule? If they’d truly been meant to feel so wrong in their own body- if this was what the goddess wished for them- why couldn’t it have been the other way around? Why couldn’t they have been born a girl, and later realize they were a man?

Wild knows that none of these questions are something they’ll ever find an answer to, most likely. They try to push down the feeling of desperation that rises in their throat and nearly chokes, and tries to stop thinking about it. The feelings might not ever go away, but Wild couldn’t spend their entire life wishing their circumstances were different.

After they manage to get their mind to stop spiraling, they’re still left with a dread pooling in their chest and one question running through their mind that keeps them from falling asleep the rest of the night.

Does Hyrule know?

#mint's fanfiction #linked universe #lu wild #lu warriors #lu time #lu hyrule #trans wild #lu fanfiction #lgbtq+#shifting hues #lu malon

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once1upon1a1wonderland · 1 month

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So, random thoughts about the recent update on EN. (I don't know what's happening on JP server, so please don't tell me anything.)

I was thinking.... Maybe it's because I'm tired.... (2 hours of sleep), but I had a thought. What if Malleus just wins? Even if only briefly.... like he actually manages to engulf the entire world with his sleep curse. (Ahem, blessing.) I mean, how are we.....

Supposed to stop that.

(The dragon looks so cool though!)

I.... I don't think fighting is the answer here... I really dont.... Malleus is the next thing right under omnipotent. He's not quite there... but dang! What the heck man! What is going on in your head!? You're so weird it's actually intriguing. I want to know what he's thinking, because this plan of his is just ridiculous! Ridiculous in the sense that there's no way his plan can actually pan out the way he wants it to forever. Like, 1000 years of sleep huh? What do you think will happen when you allow everyone to wake up? Or.... you gonna change your mind and just keep them asleep longer? You're not giving everyone their dreams. You're dangling it in front of them like a carrot on a stick. Making them think they have what they want, only for it to be stripped from them one day. But hey, at least you get to keep Lilia, right? I get it. He's hurting. And he's acting pretty desperate. I'm going to ask the same question I have asked before. How much is the blot affecting his mind? Morphing in with his thoughts to help him believe that this is rational? He wants something so simple and innocent, but is going about it in an incredibly selfish way.

In the original case of Maleficent, she is defeated by a sword stabbing into her heart.... I hate to say it, but there's only two ways to stop Malleus at this point. Either manage to talk him out of it, or killing him. Yeah, it hurt to type that. But I'm just typing the facts. There is no way we'll be defeating him the way we did with the other overblotters. Which is how I got the idea of, what if he "wins". At least the type of win where everyone feels like they're all doomed and all hope is lost right before someone figures out a way to stop him. I know from Malleus' perspective at the moment, he's already won.

Okay, rant over.... maybe

..l really need sleep.

No! I don't need help from you.

Here's random Dragon Gifs... because.... I don't know. Because I feel like it.

K, this one below, not a dragon, but it looks cool!

Y'know, my blog name has become Ironic now. I named it 'Once Upon A Wonderland Twists into A Dreamland' because I decided it sounded cool, and I wanted a blog name that had a meaning behind it. The "Once Upon a" part alluding to the fact that a lot of fairy tales start with "once upon a time". Though I believe half of the tales Twist takes from technically don't start like that. But y'know... popular trope.... and then the "Wonderland" part in my blog name because: "twisted wonderland". Now the "twists into a Dreamland" part came about because I had thought of make-believe worlds that we find ourselves going to as a sort of Dreamland. A place to escape to for a while.... (also I wanted "Twist" somewhere in the title.) Hence the name: Once Upon A Wonderland Twists Into A Dreamland. Now it seems my blog name has predicted what happens in book 7.... 🤣 I don't know. I like ironic stuff like this. It's funny.

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #overblot Malleus #dreamland #twst thoughts #ignore me. im tired and need sleep. how am i still awake....#dragons #hornton #book 7 update #twisted wonderland book 7 part 3 #twisted wonderland en update

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stellareveriey · 2 months

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My Positive Rambly Thoughts About The Our Wonderland Arc 5 Finale

(Spoilers for OW Arc 5,bad grammar,self-indulgent/personal thoughts -nothing crazy though!-)

Here are my thoughts on the Arc 5 Finale of Our Wonderland and the game as a whole! (This is long and very rambly as I was still processing everything that happened!)

the beginning of the end. I like the group of four’s interaction in the cabin. it was nice. poor iggy though,remembering what happened. gidget too (even though they caused it). gen and orlam remembered things too but were too caught up in arguing with each other lmao. good on gidget for breaking that up.

“don’t I…deserve to be warm?” yes! you absolutely do iggy! unfortunately I had to choose the neutral option since I think my game glitched out my progress and my affection was too low for everyone..(it’s fine I’ll make up for it later!) at least iggy realizes that he needs to focus on himself for once! good!

I can’t lie when the screen went dark and Iggy mentioned being wrapped in something hard,I thought it was because Bucks got him (I was wrong of course).

“good morning starshine! the earth says hello!” lmao I love genzou (/platonic).

I liked the shot of the door opening and everyone’s reaction to it. when I saw the monster I had no clue what it even was at first and denied the idea that it could be bucks out of bewilderment (oh how wrong I was…). “we don’t stay long after that.” yeah I wouldn’t either! genzou leaving his beanie as good luck was cute and bittersweet. not going to lie I was kinda frustrated when Iggy’s friends acted reluctant about Iggy having a weapon (he can’t have self defense?? and then he ended up saving them w/ a necklace anyway!).

the “defeat it” part caught me off guard (like a lot of things in this arc would/pos). the game is very good at creating a sense of dread! and then..there was that monster that I thought was crazy even for wonderland standards. the last way I thought arc 5 bucks would look,the monster design is incredible though and that roar is terrifying! the fight scene was very impressive! it’s cool how it’s so dynamic even just using sprites and effects! also THE OFW REFERENCE?! that’s awesome to see tied in the main game again!

Iggy’s hand being cut off while using the doll to reach bucks genuinely made me gasp (the sketchy artstyle of that scene looks nice though!). the screen going red after that is really effective for conveying pain and terror. the sight of his injured hand is brutal. seeing the flashback of the group as kids and bucks and Hunar being cute gave me the strongest emotional whiplash ever. i felt bad for Bucks getting called a monster by her friends,brothers,and even her husband later down the line. Her going from happy to miserable. Her saying she hates her life and breaking down.

“You’re not a monster,Bucks…So please just come home…” Her seeing Hunar in Iggy and hugging him was beautiful. And then…finding the tree. God. Saydie never deserved any of this. She was a baby. I can’t imagine how Carrot felt while drawing that,seeing it uncensored. That tree is the absolute worst. Iggy being seen as a vessel is so sad. Him getting his soul separated from his body was not something I expected at all.

The “Child Of Nihility” stage is my absolute favorite part of this arc and probably the entire game overall. It’s so bright and peaceful. Child Saydie is adorable. Seeing her reunite Iggy with his (younger) friends and himself was really heartwarming. I adore when a story has the main character talk with the younger version of themself in person. Side note: Child Genzou wishing he could see Iggy again was so sweet. The music starting up already made me emotional since I already recognized the song but the visuals and Saydie’s dialogue made even more so. Iggy breaking the 4th wall and making his own choice was remarkable!

Him cutting down the tree was both tragic and incredible. Seeing the creatures of Wonderland fade away too. Young Iggy’s wish of wanting his friends to be happy forever. Best animatic / cutscene in the whole game!

A younger Iggy seeing his childhood friends again in the forest felt like a fitting way for them to leave Wonderland behind. The Saydie doll speaking back and being kept makes me like she’s not fully gone which is bittersweet to me. This scene and the epilogue makes me think their lives got reset but I could be wrong.

The neutral end epilogue. Bucks and Hunar leaving their own wedding was funny and sweet. Good for them! Also Hunar is pretty in his dress! And the better reactions to things in childhood! Past Iggy apologizing for what he did! Letting Orlam sit with him! Being with Genzou in the hospital! It’s all so great! Everyone’s new futures too! Iggy even having a better connection with his friends and discovering himself! The epilogue even ends with a Our Cinderella tie in! I love it all! Beautiful!

Final thoughts. This arc and game was a emotional rollercoaster in the best way possible! Making me feel sadness,anger,joy,sympathy,and more! Everything is so well executed! Art,music,dialogue,story,all of it! I especially loved the animatic / cutscenes parts! Overall,this was an amazing way to end an amazing game. I’ve loved it since starting it in February 2023 to now :)! Through playing OW,I’ve even gotten my artistic motivation back and have been inspired to get back into storytelling/series making! For that,I thank you,Carrot! I hope to experience more of your work in the future (no pressure! you definitely deserve the break)! Have a great day and year! ❤️ @just-a-carrot

#our wonderland visual novel #our wonderland #stellareveriey post

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