#au within an au god help me I am losing it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thebusytypewriter · 29 days

Text

Hail the Lamb, Resilient and Eternal

Here it is, the starting point of the Tri-God AU timeline! Many thanks to Jonnie @jonquilandlace my beloved for helping me out :D

You can also find this on AO3 if that suits you better.

CW: blood, gore, major character death (not permanent)

“MEDICS!”

All hell broke loose at the cry, startling every creature within the grounds into action. The aforementioned medics scrambled from their idle activities to meet a wide-eyed rabbit at the camp entrance, where they kept their benevolent leader from collapsing by holding them upright as best as they could.

The Lamb of prophecy, who seemed indestructible to the common folk, stood half limp in their support. Crimson blood flowed down their face from somewhere atop their wooly head, dripping onto both an equally-red cloak and the vegetation below. One eye was bruised deeply to the point of being swollen shut, while the other stared at the ground, cloudy and unfocused.

Truely, it was a rare sight to behold for their flock, and many panicked animals dropped what they were doing to either assist or observe.

In the small hut of a kitchen remained one deer, silver in color, who watched the events unfold with worry. Kaliaphra wasn’t one to act in such situations, lest she be in the way of the people whose skills mattered there. That wasn’t to say she was unskilled, just that she’d never belonged to the area of healing.

Instead, she stared with horrified intrigue, a half-finished fish dish already forgotten on the counter behind her.

“My Lamb!” exclaimed the head medic, an elderly turtle by the name of Zelva. “My Lamb, what happened? Can you speak? Please, say something if you are conscious!”

Despite her distance, Kaliaphra could tell that The Lamb didn’t respond based on the increased numbers of furrowed brows. More hurried words were exchanged between Zelva and her students, and the largest among them took their leader into their arms to carry them toward the healing tent. The Lamb’s limbs dangled limply as they did so.

Whatever had happened in Anura, it wasn’t good.

“Kali, your tuna’s burning.”

She startled, whirling back around to pull her skillet off the fire. “Hells, Theo! You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

The brown buck that entered the kitchen—Theanno, her cousin who might as well have been her brother—simply smiled at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “At least you’d be seeing Death. Aside from the, um, burning, how’s it coming in here?”

“Slow,” she sighed, pulling out a cloth to wrap the burnt fish. “I was already having a difficult time staying on task, and then The Lamb returned, and… did you get a better look at them? How bad is it?”

He leaned back against the countertop adjacent to her. “Couldn’t have seen more than you just now. That was… a lot of blood coming from them, though. I wonder if the healers can patch them up.”

“Well, even if they cannot, our leader will return to us shortly after, right? Death favors them. They bear his Crown.”

“Yeah, but…”

Kaliaphra turned sharply toward her cousin with wide eyes. “‘But’? Theo, you cannot question the nature of the Lamb.”

“I’m not,” he insisted. “I’m just worried. We’ve never seen them so hurt, right, so what happens if we lose them? Do we just… go back to where we were before?”

“We should not be thinking about this.”

“It’s a real problem, Kali! We couldn’t stay here; the Bishops—”

With a loud metallic thunk, Kaliaphra slammed the still-warm skillet on the counter next to him. She stared up at Theanno there, at his stunned expression, and hissed, “The Bishops, of two there are remaining, cannot touch this place. I am not worried about it, and you should not be, either. Imagine if an elder heard you; they would think that you are dissenting.”

Calmly, solemnly, Theo raised one hand and extended a finger to lightly boop her on the nose. “I’m not dissenting. We’re under the Lamb’s protection, I know. I’m just… thinking out loud. I’ve gotta get back to the crops. You should see if the healers need lunch. That way, you can keep an eye on our Lamb.”

The tonal shift of their conversation threw Kali off-balance. “What—you—”

“Okayloveyoubyeeee!” In a torrent of a wave and a head pat, Theanno slipped back out of the hut, leaving her alone again.

He throws existential dread on me then leaves, she grumbled to herself. Now I have to check in on the Lamb.

She grabbed a few covered bowls from the storage crate—only berries would be properly stored there—and layered them on a tray, careful to balance each even as she lifted the tray. It wasn’t an unpracticed movement, given how she’d taken to serving dinner to her family before, well, being separated from them. If anything, it was comfortingly familiar.

Kaliaphra slipped out of the kitchen hut and crossed the grounds toward the infirmary tent. Many of her fellow cultists were still floating around the entrance, their tasks remaining unfinished in their hands, but they didn’t seem to care. They stared at the infirmary in deep concern and only scattered when she gently told them to shoo.

With a deep breath, she prepared to announce her entrance, but a scream cut her off.

She shouldered her way inside to assist and was met with a rather… frightening scene.

The circle of healers had taken a large step back from the cot, each raising their hands in some semblance of placation. Upon the cot, most worryingly, squatted the Lamb. Their eyes were wide with fear, and they had somehow managed to grab hold of a small and pointy stick.

“Get back!” the Lamb shrieked, waving their acquired stick like a dagger. (Instinct, perhaps?) “I won’t go with you, do you understand? I refuse to be sacrificed just because of some… some dumb prophecy!”

Confounded murmurs filled the space.

“Prophecy?”

“Sacrifice?”

“Have they forgotten the years of this establishment?”

“My Lamb,” Zelva said, playing up her comforting tone, “we are not here to bring you to the Bishops. You escaped from them, and you have unified us all here under the Red Crown. Do you… not remember?”

They stared up at her with the most dumbfounded expression Kali had ever seen on them. “I don’t know what in the hells you’re talking about. I was… on my way to scavenge when a group of robed individuals—” The Lamb glanced suspiciously about the tent, which contained several people fitting that description— “bounded me in chains to take me away to the Bishops. I don’t follow the Red Crown; I don’t follow anyone!”

There was something of a faint collective gasp among the group (which made sense, since the Lamb was essentially speaking heresy without realizing it).

“Zelva,” Kali murmured, setting her tray of berry bowls on a table, “what… happened to them?”

The old turtle sighed and dragged a hand down her face. “From what I could see before they began threatening us with a stick, there are signs of severe head trauma possibly originating from their most recent trip through Anura. They most certainly defeated the Bishop Heket, but I imagine something hit them before they made their escape.”

“Meaning…?”

“Amnesia. At least partially. They appear to have forgotten events after their execution, including the founding of this camp.”

“And the Red Crown?”

“At the moment, Filip is placing the Crown within the Temple.”

“The sermons?”

“Canceled until further notice.”

“The Bishops?”

“Will never know.”

“But—”

“Kaliaphra.” Zelva grabbed her by the shoulders. “We will ensure that the Bishops will never know. If they find out, our little camp here is done for. We have nothing to defend us. Please, remain diligent in your duties, and if anyone asks, the Lamb is injured and recovering.”

Kali looked between her and their now-sedated leader, who appeared as a small lamb for once instead of the grand holy being the cult knew them to be.

Or thought them to be.

“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded. “If you or anyone here needs anything, let me know. Or let Theanno know.”

Zelva visibly relaxed, a tired smile finding its way onto her face. “Of course. Thank you, dear. We will get through this together, under Death’s grace.”

“Yes, ma’am. Praise the Lamb.”

Sleep was difficult to wrangle that night, and the next, and the next.

Kaliaphra stared at the roof of her tent as she silently begged to fall into the sweet abyss, but her thoughts granted her no such relief. She was too busy thinking about the events of the previous days, about Theanno’s words and Zelva’s worry and the Lamb’s evident amnesia.

“We’ve never seen them so hurt, right, so what happens if we lose them?”

“We will ensure that the Bishops will never know. If they find out, our little camp here is done for. We have nothing to defend us.”

Granted, it had hardly been half a week since the Lamb returned, but with how fast word spread about the camp, Kali was certain that all of the Lamb’s followers would know soon. If doubt grew among them, flowering into dissent, it would only be a matter of time before someone left and crawled back to the Bishops.

The Lamb was not improving.

Someone had to do something.

They needed help of divine levels, and she wondered, if nothing else, whether the Lamb’s sacred Red Crown would have some form of solution, even a temporary one. She’d seen its power in action before, when the Lamb took command over their fields during the Heket-inflicted famine. Surely it had something, like a barrier to put up around the grounds.

The only question was whether someone had to wear the Crown—or maybe even be skilled with it—for it to do something. Only one way to find out, she supposed.

Kaliaphra pushed herself up from her bedroll and cautiously poked her head outside, letting the tent flaps continue to obscure her some. She appeared to be lucky in that all lanterns around the residential area of the camp were out, save for the infirmary, which was still a large enough distance away that it wasn’t a threat.

She went through a mental checklist of members, trying to discern who did and didn’t have one of those moon pendants the Lamb had offered. The only one that came to mind was a medic, who was no doubt in the infirmary.

Assuming no one was guarding the Crown—and why would they, when anyone in the cult hardly separated it from its bearer in terms of fear and respect—she had a straight shot.

As swiftly as possible, Kali made a sprint for the temple. She dared not go slower, even if it meant a lesser likelihood of stepping on something loud, since it would be way more likely for someone to wake up for a snack or to use the outhouse. All she had to do was slip in through the semi-ajar door (which she mentally thanked Filip for, even if it was unintentional) and close it behind herself, which went off without a hitch.

A dim temple greeted her, the only light coming from the ever-lit candles on either side of the lectern. It was just enough to provide some visibility, even if both Kali and Theanno had great night vision to begin with, but more specifically on the Red Crown sitting upon the altar.

It was odd, seeing the Crown not on the Lamb’s head. While the Lamb, in their state, seemed much smaller than usual, the Crown without the Lamb felt larger than it should. More imposing, even. Its singular red eye remained wide open, and though its glow had dimmed significantly, she had the feeling it was anything but dormant as it stared through her.

She almost wanted to tell it to blink.

Nevertheless, Kali swallowed her unease and strode forward down the aisle just as she had been for something close to twenty years, which might as well have been two years with the enchanted pendants the Lamb had gifted her and Theo. It came second nature; little light needed to guide her.

Though she had never been afraid of the dark, her fur stood on end as she noticed the feeling of being watched. By the Crown? Perhaps, but… not quite.

With a bowed head, she stepped up to the altar. Her heart raced with the panic of I should not be here, I should not be the one standing at the altar, but she tried her best to shove it down. What she was doing was important and could possibly save the cult from being wiped out.

Kaliaphra lowered herself to kneel in front of the altar, bending until she was just under eye-level with the Red Crown and folding her hands neatly upon her lap. “I am… unsure if I should be addressing Death here, as I am simply looking at the Crown without its bearer, so I will plead with both god and tool.”

If the Crown could look expectant, it did.

“I fear for the safety of these people,” she began, letting her eyes fall shut. “I have only ever been afraid like this when the Lamb brought me here for the first time. I doubted then. Over time, I have grown to trust them with my life. But they have fallen. Not in death, but I am afraid this is worse. If it were death, The One Who Waits would surely revive them. Instead, they cannot be helped outside of medical attention, and even that is a waiting game.

“If the Bishops find this place, all will be executed for heresy. What shall be done? I would sacrifice anything to make this right. I would give my own life. What is my life in comparison to the many other lives being lived here? It is but a speck of dust.” Kali paused for a moment, cracking one eye open to check if the Crown was still paying attention. (What a silly thought, she mused. The Red Crown is not sentient.)

Its singular red eye stared back at her, unblinking and unmoving.

Somehow, that was more discouraging.

She sighed. “We were taught that The One Who Waits does not answer prayer directly. He speaks through his vessel in miracles, but they are the one to hear our pleas. What is left when the vessel forgets that they are a vessel? What is left when a fawn who loves her family has to leave them behind? Theanno… he is all I have of them here. I promised him that he would be safe in this place, under the Lamb.”

A growing desperation bubbled in her chest with each passing thought, and Kaliaphra found herself crawling forward to grasp the altar and stare into the Crown’s eye directly as her vision blurred. “Please, do you not understand how hopeless this is? I do not ask for much if you do not wish to give it, but the situation must be remedied! Tell me what I have to do! Help me!”

The plea rang out through the temple, bouncing off the walls again and again until it faded.

The Red Crown did nothing.

Bitterly, she had the passing thought that a no would’ve hurt less than this.

Kaliaphra pushed herself up to stand over the Crown upon the altar, wiping the few stray tears that had fallen. “…Foolish. I do not know why I thought Death would listen to one little follower, anyway. It was worth a—”

In a flash, a literal flash of red, the sacred artifact shifted forms.

No longer did she see the Red Crown as a crown, or at least not a full crown; the pointed tips of its top stretched and wrapped around and around each other to a point, leaving it in a vague lance shape in the span of milliseconds.

That is, she was only somewhat sure it came to a point. The end of the Crown was out of her view, even as she followed it from the altar closer to her and—

Through her chest.

Through her heart.

Out her back.

That was when she registered two things a second too late. One, the deafening squelch and crack of flesh and bone being driven through by, well, Crown. Two, the burning pain that felt more like a stream of red hot fire than a blade.

Kaliaphra screamed, agony tearing through her throat.

There was a fleeting thought that she just woke up the entire camp, but it was drowned by growing panic accompanied by the taste of iron in her mouth. Her throat was closing, but was it due to the blood, or was she in shock? Shit, she didn’t know enough about medicine to tell.

What she did know was that she was going to die.

She had asked to help her be rid of the situation.

Was this a sick joke?

Was it mercy?

To be put out of her misery?

Her hooves scraped weakly at the floor beneath her, the Crown’s sharp blade holding her just aloft with surprising strength—as if she weighed nothing to it. As she struggled to catch her breath, choking on it instead, a strangled bleat pulled itself from her in some desperate attempt to call for Theanno.

The Red Crown retracted then, its lance shape ripping from her chest and dropping her onto the wooden floor. Kaliaphra’s vision was flickering then, and a horrific numbness began to settle in. The floor grew wet beneath her, and she felt it pooling around her fingertips and ear as she lay discarded on her side.

What… did I do wrong?

A distant muffled bleat was the last thing she heard.

Then there was nothing.

When her eyes opened, Kaliaphra was blinded with white.

Given how dark the temple had just been, the change of brightness was undesirable. The sky above her was far too bright, and the ground beneath her was far too soft. Fluffy, almost.

Odd.

She turned her head to get a better look and was greeted not with a wooden floor, but with what appeared to be… clouds.

A discomfort upon her chest suddenly became apparent to her, both crushing and sharp, two different sensations. Images flashed through her memory. The eye, the blade, the blood.

The weighted sensation, she realized, was likely her stopped heart.

Kali moved to sit up, knocking something sitting on her chest onto her lap instead. When she looked down, she was greeted with the unblinking stare of the Red Crown.

“You,” she murmured, afraid of her voice carrying through the expanse. “What… did you do?”

There was no response, which had to be the most normal thing in the situation. It was still enough that one wouldn’t have known how it morphed to stab her only moments ago.

Kaliaphra huffed through her nose with growing annoyance. “Some help you are. Perhaps if I simply stay here and do not move, do not interact with anything, I will wake up from this nightmare. The Lamb will be fine, everyone will be safe, and everything will be as it should.”

“I know you’re there.”

A deep, rumbling voice reverberated around her, startling her and sending some of the clouds scattering. Kali looked up from her lap to fully survey her surroundings, and she took notice of a distant but massive figure bound in chains among the clouds. The image was familiar, one that the Lamb had explained vaguely to their flock from their times of indoctrination. Death had an incredibly recognizable appearance, all things considered.

She swallowed hard, a pit opening in her stomach.

The distance and the veil made it impossible for her to see his face, but she somehow knew that The One Who Waits was looking directly at her. “Come closer, little fawn,” the tall cat bishop purred. “In death, you will be of use to me.”

Kali looked back down at the Crown.

It looked back at her, and she’d almost expected it to give a meaningful glance toward said bishop. A go on gesture, in a sense. But it gave no such answer.

Once again, incredibly helpful.

She lifted the Crown from its place on her lap and pushed herself up, instinctively brushing off her tunic as if rising from the dirt instead. (It was silly, she acknowledged, but at least it could give her the appearance of being put together.)

Kaliaphra strode forward on shaking legs through the parting clouds. If she was to meet her god, she needed to be calm and collected, but her tight grip on the Crown did nothing to help.

As she grew closer, she noticed the two smaller cats kneeling on either side of the god. Their fur was a deep gray—not quite black—and their matching pairs of crimson eyes remained solely on her as she approached. The one on Death’s right donned black and red robes, while the one on his left had white robes. Both wore veils like their master, though theirs were slightly more transparent, hence why she could meet their intense stares.

She felt more like an intruder within their space. Her gaze snapped once again to the being in the middle, though she dared not look him in the eye, instead settling for the clouds at his feet.

The sound of her footsteps changed from soft pompfs of air to hooves on stone as she stepped onto a small circular platform painted with a pentagram, and she figured that was a good place to pause. Kali dipped low into a curtsey, one she had perfected during her time under the Bishop Shamura, but said nothing. The common rule within the Silk Cradle was do not speak unless spoken to.

Given how she was standing before Death, she didn’t feel like testing the limits with other gods.

“Polite little thing,” said The One Who Waits, finally. “What a refreshing change of pace. Stand, little fawn, and let me see you.”

Without a second thought, she complied, raising her gaze enough to find the bottom edge of his veil.

“How peculiar that you would enter my domain with my Crown in your hands. I entrusted that Crown to The Lamb. How is it, then, that you hold it, mere follower?”

Despite having little-to-no control over that exact situation, Kali stuttered, “I mean no disrespect by it, my lord! The Lamb is—”

He held up one skeletal hand to stop her. “I am well aware of what has befallen my vessel. It is… inconvenient, to say the least. Since The Lamb is neither dead nor dying, I can do nothing to assist. Truly a setback.” Jagged teeth became more visible as the corners of his mouth curled upward. “But no matter. You worry for the safety of your flock, do you not? That is why you volunteered your life.”

Kaliaphra bit her lip anxiously for a moment. She did offer her life to the Crown in panic, didn’t she? While she certainly didn’t expect to stand before The One Who Waits in order to fulfill that statement, there really were only so many ways such an offer would come to fruition. “What… What would you have me do, my lord? I am just a deserter who can only somewhat mince fish and cauliflower.”

“Ah… but you can brandish a knife, then?” The God of Death inclined his head in what she faintly recognized to be a patronizing manner. “While you may not believe it, that is more than The Lamb could say when they first appeared before me. Rejoice in your abilities, for they will save your hide in battle.”

“B-Battle, my lord?”

She swore she saw the cat at his right snicker from her question.

“Battle,” he repeated. “Despite the façade you put on, I know you are familiar with it. I have seen you cut down many an enemy during your time as a soldier trainee.”

Ah, damn it. “Oh, I, uh—“

“And yet you lie to my face.” The ever-present grin dropped abruptly. “Fear lingers in you despite your experience, Kaliaphra. I will be merciful just this once.”

Kali’s breath hitched as terror took its choking hold on her. He knew her name. He knew her by name. “Forgive me, please! I would have been upfront about it, but… it has been some time since I fought last.”

The One Who Waits waved a hand. “It has become instinct for you, nonetheless, one that you will utilize while you bear the Crown.”

It was like ice had been dumped over her. She dared to meet his gaze, finally. “…My lord?”

“A temporary vessel,” he clarified, his wide smile of sharp teeth returning. “You shall take on the duties of the Lamb until they can return once more. Tend to the flock. Venture forth on crusades. Spread faith and influence. Slay my traitorous siblings. That is for which you have volunteered your life.”

She stared up at him, up at the gleeful unblinking trio of red eyes behind a veil, and found no trace of humor. No ounce of empathy. The One Who Waits was placing her in the position of leader against her will. If she should decline…

One clawed hand, belonging to the white-robed cat in white on Death’s left, twitched as if he’d heard her thought.

Ah. She couldn’t.

To decline meant death. No doubt it would be an insult to the bishop himself. She had no other option.

“It will not be for an eternity,” The One Who Waits purred, “that much I can swear with the assumption that my vessel recovers. Should they not, your position will become a permanent one. Do we have an understanding, fawn?”

As much as she wanted to do otherwise, Kaliaphra lowered herself back into a deep curtsy. “Y…Yes, my lord. I will do everything in my power to serve you.”

“Good. Do not disappoint me. Unlike the Lamb, you are incredibly replaceable.”

The pentagram lit up beneath her feet, and her soul left the Below with a new weighing dread upon it.

Kaliaphra propped herself up with one arm and promptly vomited onto the floor next to the altar.

Her chest ached, not with the pain of the fatal wound but with anxiety and horror. She was faintly aware that she had, in fact, returned to the living world, but she was waiting for the pounding of her heart to cease before fully taking stock.

Was she dreaming? Surely, she had been dreaming. In her panic to do something about the Lamb’s situation, she had run into the temple and… hit her head. Passed out. That was the only logical option. Or, better yet, all of that was a dream, too; she’d eaten some wild mushrooms by mistake and had a wild dream as a result.

…Why did her head feel so heavy?

Something, some form of light, reflected off of the polished quartz altar, startling Kali. As she turned her head back to further investigate, the colored light reflected again—red. Once she sat still, the steady red glow remained… just above her head, if the silhouette was anything to go by. Was that…

She raised one hand up to grab it, but the crash of the temple doors startled her into dropping her hand and pushing herself onto her feet.

“Kaliaphra,” came the clipped voice of Zelva as she led what looked like the entire cult into the room. “What on earth is—Are you wearing the Red Crown?”

Her eyes ran over the assembling crowd, already trying to think of a way out of facing them yet. Was there one, though? Was it right to wait, if this was in fact really happening? Was there even a way for her to answer without looking like a fool? “Y…Yes, I am.”

The old turtle scoffed incredulously. “Stars above, no one should be touching it but the Lamb. And—is that… blood? Vomit? Child, are you drunk?”

“No!” she snapped back, the weight of the eyes on her immensely present. “I am not drunk. I… I have…”

But she trailed off, uncertain how exactly to explain the situation. Kali’s eyes skimmed the assembled followers, searching desperately for reassurance, for familiarity, for her cousin’s eyes among colleagues, friends, acquaintances, accusers.

In the doorway, familiar horns just barely fit in the doorway.

She held her breath, a long moment, then began again. “I have spoken to The One Who Waits. It appears that he has placed me in the Lamb’s position until they recover. And I know that sounds insane, but…” She looked down at herself, reaching up to run her fingers over the tender flesh where her impalement wound had been. The skin there was still agitated and raw, like a fresh scar had just formed. “I died, I believe. That was the commotion you heard. If you will just—”

“A’right,” huffed Chifre, the rhinoceros in charge of behavior enforcement, as he stepped through the crowd toward her. “Take the Crown off, c’mon.”

Anxiety flipped to annoyance in just a moment, and she straightened her spine stubbornly. “I cannot. I now have a duty to uphold, it seems.”

“No, you don’t. Take it off, or I’ll take it myself. Playtime’s over, kid.”

“I am not a child!”

Her voice boomed through the space, and she would’ve taken notice of how it split apart if it weren’t for the flash of bright red, almost like lightning, that illuminated it all. The light seemed to startle the crowd more than her, as they all scrambled back several feet from the altar, eyes blown wide.

They… weren’t looking at her.

Kaliaphra turned, slowly, and looked up to the front wall of the temple.

Over the wood and stained glass, there resided a massive shadow, one of distinct silhouette, stretching across the pulpit floor to the wall and traveling up to touch the ceiling. The body, with its tall feline ears and glowing trio of eyes, was incredibly familiar to Kali herself. Its limbs, clearly defined as skeletal and crude, extended over the walls and arched across the temple floor. There, the claws of bone hovered around the place where the deer stood, as if claiming her—his plaything, perhaps.

Separate from the shadow, Kaliaphra was graced with the whisper of feeling bone brush her cheek. It was a distant mockery of sentiment, but it made her heart leap into her throat all the same.

“Stand tall, my vessel,” the voice of The One Who Waits purred into her ear. “They will learn to fear you in time.”

Then, with another flash of red light, it was all gone. Kali and the others were left standing in an empty temple, shellshocked at what had just occurred.

They stared at her, no longer annoyed, but hesitant. As if they didn’t know what to do.

Across the crowd, Kaliaphra’s gaze finally found her cousin’s, meeting eyes wide in something between awe and terror. He ran his gaze over her form, inspecting her, she thought, hesitating on the blood stain on her shirt, then the glowing crown, and then back to meet her eyes in turn, looking for something, the same safety they’d promised one another for years.

Then, finding it, whatever he was looking for, his expression calmed, pride replacing the fear as a grin stretched over his cheeks. He bent his knee, head still raised, unwilling to break her gaze, yet folding over nevertheless.

A bow, she realized. He is bowing. To… to me?

“My Fawn,” Theanno called.

The followers nearest to him looked back, murmurs rippling through them, noises and expressions flickering wildly between surprise and… uncertainty, perhaps, before looking back to the crown that now rested on her brow.

Then, with the same subtle confidence, one follower after another bent at the knee, their gazes turning to the ground.

“My Fawn.”

“My Fawn!”

21 notes · View notes

fratboykate · 1 year

Note

Just a desperate anon, politely asking if this was ever posted 👀👀👀 or if it could be added to the potential writer-strike queue if it wasn’t. I am crossing my fingers it wasn’t eaten by tumblr or notes…

https://www.tumblr.com/fratboykate/711128923636908032/papi-we-need-the-stepmom-angst-its-a-matter-of

You must've crossed those fingers really hard because you sent this two weeks ago and are now getting it three whole days before the strike lol. Here's almost 10k of...them. Mom!AU is officially back from the war too.

///

"Do NOT bring those boots into the apartment, Ri. Off by the door. I mean it. You're cleaning it if you track all that dirty slush around."

Kate abruptly halts her twelve-year-old daughter’s hasty rush toward the entrance with a firm yank on the hood of her brightly colored parka and deftly transfers the stroller she’s pushing to Ereka. In the same single, graceful, and fluid motion, Kate skillfully juggles the diaper bag, empty coffee tumbler, and cell phone freeing her dominant hand to dig through her purse for her keys. A palpable imperativeness hangs in the air as they make their way down the hallway because Russell, who currently tries to squirm his way out of the stroller straps, is on the brink of a meltdown. With each passing second, his patience wears thinner, and Kate endeavors to avoid him going nuclear in public.

"And take your brother's boots off too, please. You know where the stroller goes. Don't just leave it blocking the door. Did momma text you back about dinner?"

"No...Any day now would be great, mom."

Kate's eyes narrow with stony intensity as she shoots Ereka a dirty look.

"I’ll leave you out here. Don’t try me."

"Top-notch parenting. I'll be sure to add that to the CPS file I'm compiling."

"Mommy, druck!"

Two-and-a-half-year-old Russell unleashes a series of frustrated hollers from within his rolling prison. His annoyance is palpable.

The boy is an undeniable carbon copy of his mother, a living reflection of Yelena. Kate has never once laid eyes on her son and seen anything other than an unmistakable resemblance to her wife. This moment isn’t an exception. Kate can't help but notice the striking parallels between them. Every feature screams Yelena, from how his nose scrunches when he smiles to his green eyes to his vibrant blonde hair to his Short King status. Even his breathing issues, which lend a raspy voice and a crackling laugh, serve as a constant reminder of the deep link that those two share. Kate could complain about the fact that he also inherited her rotten temper, but instead, she finds herself captivated by this portable embodiment of her darling wife.

"Yes, baby. Riri will get you another truck as soon as we're inside."

"I WANT RED DRUCK NOW! RED DRUCK!"

"Okay, woh. Tone, sir. You're the one who threw it out the car window. You're gonna wait until we get inside and give zero attitude because this is a problem of your own doing."

Russell furrows his brow, a visible display of his discontent, followed by an exasperated huff. The air between them hangs momentarily. This could be the moment when he finally loses his cool. Then…after a beat…

"A druck is a wectangle, mommy."

"It is. What shape is this?"

Kate holds up the face powder she's holding.

"Circle! Cuz it wound. Like this..."

The little boy traces a circle in the air with his plump toddler fingers.

"Good job!"

"Oh my god. Do we live in the hallway now? Open the door."

Kate continues digging through her purse while simultaneously turning to Ereka and contorting her face into a humorous expression. Ereka quickly mirrors her mother's mischievous look, sparking a shared moment of amusement between the two. Laughter escapes their lips, affording them a moment of levity amid the chaotic scene. As their chuckles subside, a triumphant glimmer sails through Kate's eyes — she’s finally found the keys!

"There's no reason this thing should be able to swallow my keys into another dimension. It's not that big."

Kate swings the door wide open with a determined push. Without missing a beat, she dumps the bags that dangle from her shoulders onto the table by the entrance while slipping her waterproof boots off. Once her hands, arms, and feet are free, she heads to the jacket closet to begin taking layers off.

"Ri! Come on! You're smarter than that. Take your boots off first, THEN his. Moving around and look at the mess you're making."

Kate is too busy chastising her daughter to notice Yelena's coat is already hanging in the closet.

"You said to take his off too. I'm doing that and you get mad."

"I didn't think I needed to give you a detailed step-by-step on how to do it right, but I'll be sure to next time."

"Next time, I just won't do it if you're going to scream at me either way."

"There was no screaming. Just pointing out the obvious."

"...while you screamed."

Kate offers a vexed eye roll then strides into the apartment, leaving Ereka to wrestle with the challenge of removing Russell's stubborn boots in the foyer. Kate moves with purpose, her footsteps echoing as she navigates through the familiar space. Once Ereka successfully frees her brother’s tiny feet from the damp shoes, she proceeds to unstrap him from the stroller.

"Riri, druck!"

"I will get you your dumb truck, but I need to take this off you so mom doesn't flip a lid." Ereka tells her brother while deftly unzipping the small, purple coat.

"DRUCK NOW, RIRI!"

The little boy squirms as Ereka wrestles with his jacket.

"I will hide all your trucks if you scream at me again."

A deep frown creases Russell’s face, his features contorting into an expression of displeasure and frustration.

"No! Druck Wuss!"

"Yeah, they're your trucks, but I can also put them on the top shelf where you can't reach them if you don't stop being a brat." Ereka slides his gloves off, stands, and heads for the door a few feet away. Ereka opens the closet and immediately catches Yelena's coat. She hastily hangs her brother's tiny parka, throws the gloves into the corresponding cubby, and stares at Yelena's jacket once more before turning to Russell. "Don't move." Ereka darts to the back of the apartment, disappearing momentarily from Russell’s sight. She returns to the hallway that connects the foyer to the rest of the apartment a few seconds later. "Mama's home."

From her position by the kitchen island, Kate gazes at her daughter with confusion etched across her face.

"What?"

"Her coat's in here, so I went and checked and she's in the room. I think she's sleeping though, because all the lights are off."

Kate turns to glance at the clock on the microwave. 5:28 PM. Yelena is never home before them, let alone before 5:00 PM. At least not unless she's feeling unwell. Kate closes the cookbook she perused for dinner ideas and heads for the bedroom.

"Please keep an eye on him and get him one of the trucks from his chest. Thank you."

Kate tells Ereka as she kisses the top of her head in passing.

"Come on, Russellsprout. Let's get you a truck."

Kate suppresses a smile and instinctively rolls her eyes, a reflexive response to Ereka’s talent for assigning people terrible (and often food-related) nicknames. This might be one of the most annoying traits Ereka inherited from her father and Kate can’t help but find it both amusing and exasperating.

---

Kate enters the pitch-black room, stepping closer to the bed as her eyes gradually adjust to the darkness. The air is nice and toasty, meaning the older woman must be running the small space heater she’s permanently moved to her nightstand. As Kate approaches, she can see Yelena is, in fact, in bed. Her back is turned to the door and her shoulders rise and fall in a slow, steady rhythm. A wave of concern washes over the brunette as she realizes that her wife must be feeling truly awful to be in bed this early.

"Baby...Yel..."

Kate whispers but gets no answer. She debates letting Yelena sleep but can't resist the urge to be close to her wife, even if it's just for a moment. Kate crawls into bed and nestles herself against Yelena’s warm form. Yelena instinctively responds, her body pushing back into Kate’s.

Kate's lips find Yelena's neck, leaving a trail of soft, affectionate kisses. Her arm delicately snakes around Yelena's overgrown midriff, cradling the ever-growing twenty-two-week pregnant belly.

"You okay?"

Kate whispers into Yelena's ear and places a gentle kiss on her earlobe. Yelena softly shakes her head, indicating her disinterest in engaging in conversation at the moment.

The most accurate way to describe Yelena's pregnancy thus far is: miserable. The first trimester was a nightmare, marked by persistent malaise and bouts of morning sickness that had her bent over a toilet for hours on end, leaving her feeling drained and weak. And those were the good days. But that was only the tip of the iceberg. Yelena’s body is rebelling at every turn. Run down any list of pregnancy symptoms (and add a few more most people had never even heard of), and Yelena went through all of them. Her body seems determined to manifest every ailment imaginable and magnify its intensity. The dizziness has become a constant companion. Exhaustion has settled in her bones, claiming all of her energy. Frequent nosebleeds interrupt her daily routine, keeping her perpetually on edge. There’s also the hormonal mood swings that leave Yelena feeling like a stranger in her own body. Crippling headaches punctuate her days with throbbing pangs, constantly forcing her to seek solace in the darkness…like now.

Throughout the madness of this pregnancy, Kate has risen to the occasion, stepping up as a pillar of emotional support and embracing the role of caregiving, devoted partner with unwavering dedication. Day in and day out, Kate has done everything she can to make Yelena's life easier, including taking on the lion’s share of household chores and errands. Additionally, Kate has done everything in her power to anticipate Yelena's needs. She cooks meals to soothe Yelena's queasy stomach, researches remedies and alternative therapies to alleviate symptoms, offers calming teas and massages to ease aches, ensures Yelena stays hydrated and gets enough rest, or is simply around to provide a comforting touch along with words of consolation when Yelena is feeling down about the toll that pregnancy is taking on her body. Kate has become a constant presence by her wife’s side, ensuring Yelena feels loved and cherished throughout this challenging period. Overall, Kate has made it her mission to turn Yelena's difficult pregnancy into a somewhat manageable experience.

With tender affection, Kate runs her palm over Yelena's growing belly.

"I thought we had a deal that you were going to be nice to momma, baby girl. What's going on in there, huh?"

"Your stupid genes...trying to kill me." Kate chuckles, a jovial response to their now recurring conversation. Since Yelena is carrying a baby conceived with Kate's egg and the donor's sperm, Yelena has started to (halfway?) joke that Kate’s genes must be “toxic” to her and that they’re the root cause of Yelena's endless pregnancy woes. "You drive me crazy every day. Why did I think putting a literal piece of you inside me would go any better?"

"I'm sorry. So evil of me. Bad, BAD genes. I'll have a talk with them later." Kate's lips graze Yelena's shoulder, leaving behind a trail of soft kisses. In an instant, Yelena's body surrenders to her touch and loosens up as a result. "What are you feeling for dinner?"

"The last thing I want near me right now is food."

"You need to eat, Yel."

"I need this baby out of me. That's what I need."

Yelena lets out a discontented grumble and Kate's smile blossoms against her skin.

"Three more months. You just have to cook the nugget for three more months and you're done."

"That sounds like forever. Don't like it."

"How about some Mac and Cheese? Would that make it somewhat better?"

"Kate Bishop...are you trying to bribe me out of bed?"

"Maybe. I think there's lobster in the fridge. I think I got some when I went on Monday. If not, I can have some delivered. Lobster Mac. Super ooey and gooey and cheesy and yum."

"Why are you trying to sell it to me like I'm two?"

"It's how I convince your son to eat. Figured it might work on you since you're both grumpy little gremlins." Restless and dissatisfied, Yelena grunts in discomfort and shifts in bed, struggling to find an agreeable position to no avail. Eventually, she ends up half-facing Kate, seeking some semblance of relief in the brunette’s proximity. Kate offers her a warm smile. "That's the face of someone who could do with some ooey gooey cheesy yum in their life."

Yelena's lips curl into a merry smile and she indulges in a slight eye roll.

"I hate that it's actually working."

"My job is to sell things for a living and..." Kate plants a delicate kiss on Yelena's lips. "...I'm good at what I do."

"You..."

The door bursts open, unleashing a flood of light that fills the room. The little blonde toddler charges inside with a whirlwind of energy while proudly showcasing the truck his sister procured for him.

"MOMMA, LOOK! RIRI GOT RED DRUCK!"

Russell hops onto the bed, forcefully wedging himself with determined enthusiasm into the nonexistent space between his mothers.

"Your son...he had the genius idea to hurl his truck out the moving car window on our way here. Blue truck no more."

"Russ...that's dangerous. We don't do that."

"Blue druck went...FRUMMMMMMM"

The little boy offers Yelena an animated demonstration of the flight his toy truck embarked on with uncontainable excitement.

"RUSSPBERRY!"

"He's in here!"

Kate shouts at her daughter, who promptly appears at the door seconds later.

"Sorry. I went to the bathroom and I told him to stay."

"It's okay."

"Did he wake momma up?"

"Your mom woke me up."

"WITH KISSES. It was the most gentle wake-up ever."

"Still woke me up."

Kate shakes her head, purporting to be piqued.

"Come here. There's room."

Ereka's face lights up with a broad smile as she dashes to the bed and jumps onto it, somehow also forcing herself between Kate and Yelena.

"Easy. Momma's not feeling great."

"Sorry. Hi."

Ereka settles herself snugly, resting her chin on Yelena's hip and tenderly placing her hand on the gentle curve of her mother’s stomach.

"Hi. How was school?" Yelena asks with genuine curiosity.

Ereka shrugs nonchalantly, a hint of facetious defiance in her expression.

"Same as every other time you ask."

Kate and Yelena exchange amused glances before bursting into laughter. Yelena leans closer to Ereka, a warm grin on her face.

"Humor me."

Ereka huffs dramatically, her eyes rolling with jocose petulance. A small, roguish grin tugs at the corners of her lips, giving away her underlying amusement.

"Classes are boring. Everyone is stupid. The rules don't make sense. It's always going to be the same thing. So…fine, I guess. Tolerable.”

"Oh, you're going to be a FUN teenager." Yelena responds, her tone lighthearted and teasing.

"If I'm as precocious as everyone says I am, then technically, you could assume I've been a teenager for a while now."

"Yeah, that's it. The moment you hit thirteen, I'm packing your bags and finding you a new place to live, or I'll start graying early.” Kate playfully warns while simulating seriousness.

"Wow. Threatening to rescind my housing for exercising my right to free speech? I'm sure some case worker out there is salivating at the thought of it."

Kate rolls her eyes.

"Mommy, hungwy. I has milk?"

"Have, baby. Can I have milk?"

"Yeah. Can I haves it?” The little boy insists eagerly and with a hint of distress.

Kate chuckles.

"Close enough. But we're having dinner in a little bit, so no milk right now." Kate places a final peck on Yelena's lips and starts to stand. "Mac and cheese for dinner."

"Yesssss. Can you put bacon in it?" Ereka inquires excitedly.

"If you guys haven't gone through it already, then sure. Last I checked, there were like two pieces left, so not making any promises."

"Tell Lila to make less bacon for breakfast then."

"OR...you could do what I ask and write it on the list when you see we're running low. She already has enough on her plate with you two. You could help out more."

A few times a week, a dedicated housekeeper arrives early in the morning to help with the kids and the upkeep of the house. She quickly becomes a lifeline for the family, offering an extra pair of capable hands and a much-needed boost of organization and support. This arrangement means Kate and Yelena have less to juggle and can focus more of their time on the children.

"You also saw we were running low and didn't put it on the list, so..."

"I did put it on the list when I realized I just haven't gone shopping again. But it wasn't on my last list because YOU, the bacon fiend in this house, didn't put it there."

"Whatever." Ereka grumbles, feigning annoyance.

"Keep her busy...but don't drive her crazy. It's a delicate balance. I'll scream when it's ready. And...I might need you at some point, so don't pretend like you don't hear me calling you when I do."

Kate punctuates her words by tapping Ereka on the shoulder as she stands and walks away.

"I have bad ears." Ereka tries to play it off, but Kate doesn't let her off the hook.

"Not according to the doctor, you don't."

Ereka has gotten so proficient at selective hearing that Kate took her to the otolaryngologist to get her checked, only to prove a point.

Ereka repositions herself to lie on Kate's pillow, her face ending next to Yelena’s. She lovingly presses her head against the blonde’s.

"I like it when you're home early."

Yelena offers a faint smile while keeping her eyes closed.

"Me too."

"WUSS LIKES, MOMMA." Russell exclaims. He has an adorable habit of referring to himself in the third person, which always makes the outlandish things he says objectively funnier.

The little boy clambers up Yelena's body, unknowingly jabbing her sides with the hard plastic of his toy truck. Yelena winces and hisses in pain, prompting her to extend her arms and lift him off.

"Why are all your toys deadly weapons?" Yelena gripes, readjusting Russell so he's lying against her chest and carefully removing the toy from his hand. He immediately snuggles his cheek against hers and allows his entire body weight rest on her. Yelena lets out a groan, a mixture of mischief and genuine fatigue. "You guys are so clingy. Where are we even going to fit a third?"

Yelena fake complains, although deep down, she loves every second of it.

"She can go right here."

Ereke facetiously places her open hand over Yelena's face, covering most of it. Yelena chuckles.

"Yeah. Perfect place to sit a dirty diaper on."

Ereka's chuckles echo around the room as Yelena tries to shake her palm off her face. With a bit of effort, Yelena succeeds in removing Ereka's hand and turns to face her, offering a weak but earnest smile.

"I'm sorry you're not feeling good."

"It's okay. I'll suck it up...but I'm going to complain the entire time."

Ereka snickers and slides impossibly closer to Yelena, their bond evident in their proximity.

"Thank you for a little sister."

Yelena presses a loving kiss to Ereka's temple.

"Are you happy about it?"

"SO MUCH!" Ereka’s genuine excitement and gratitude shine through her words. "...Unless you're lying to me again and it's actually another one of these..." Ereka pokes her fingers all around Russell's body and the toddler giggles uncontrollably. "...in there."

Yelena guffaws.

"Promise it's a girl. For real this time. And she's a very lucky girl to have you as a big sister."

"I think so too."

"We have to work on your modesty." Yelena teases her daughter with a smile.

"I'm the right amount of confident. I know I'm a good big sister. Right, Russpaghetti?"

Ereka looks at her little brother for validation. The boy eagerly nods his head as he pats his tiny hands all over Yelena's face.

"Mama, milk pwease."

"Mommy is working on dinner. No milk right now. Milk later."

"Milk pwease." Russell persists, his fussiness escalating.

"No milk right now, Russ."

The boy begins to fuss and instantly works himself up to the brink of a tantrum.

"MILK, MAMA!” Russell insists, his volume rising.

"No no. Shhhhh...let's all just...Shhh...quiet time until dinner is ready. How about that? That sounds so much more fun and better for my head."

"NO!"

Ereka rolls her eyes at his protest and rises from the bed.

"Where are you going?"

"To get him milk. He's not going to stop until someone does and it'll make your headache worse if he doesn't. Just a little and he'll chill."

"Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah."

Ereka disappears out the door.

"Milk."

"Ri, went to get you some."

“Milk. Okay." Russell acknowledges, reassured that his request is being taken care of.

"So stubborn. Definitely get that from your other mom, not me. Definitely not me."

Yelena pulls the boy close and covers his body in kisses. His sour mood instantly shifts and he devolves into a fit of giggles.

---

An hour later, the foursome sits around the table, settled into their usual seats. Russell is perched in his high chair next to Kate, who patiently feeds him his meal. Ereka is to the other side of Kate, absentmindedly moving the food around her plate, seemingly lost in her thoughts. Yelena, determined to fend off her nausea, takes slow, deliberate bites, willing herself to keep the food down.

"Can I ask you something? And you'll promise you'll at least think about it before you say no?"

"Uh oh," Kate utters.

"I'm serious, mom."

"Me too. I can't possibly see how this is good, so I was bracing."

"Momma, promise you'll at least think about it."

Ereka turns towards Yelena, her expression brimming with seriousness and sincerity. Yelena meets her daughter's gaze, responding with a warm smile that conveys her openness to listen and engage wholeheartedly in anything Ereka is about to share.

"Whatever it is, mom and I will think about it and have a fair discussion before we get back to you.”

Following Yelena’s reassurance, a brief silence fills the room as Ereka gathers her thoughts. Kate and Yelena maintain their focus on her.

"I don't want to go stay at dad's anymore...ever."

Ereka declares confidently. Kate and Yelena instantly exchange worried glances.

"Did something happen?"

"No. Yes. No. I just...it's not that I don't want to see him. I just don't want to sleep over. Or be gone for days. Whenever I'm there, I'm missing here and Russtachio and you guys. And baby sister is coming soon and I'll miss her too. You always end up doing something fun without me and I hate it. Nothing I'm doing there is better than being here."

"Ri, we can't take days away from your dad."

"Why not?"

"It would...be a problem."

"What problem?! Just tell him I can…I don’t know…come hang out during the day for a few hours and then he has to bring me back."

"It doesn't work that way."

"Why not?!"

"Because we have a court-ordered agreement that we need to stick by. He gets you 30% of the time. That's how it works."

"Fuck court."

"Ereka!" Kate and Yelena exclaim simultaneously.

Ereka responds with a nonchalant shrug, seemingly unfazed by their reaction.

"See? That's what happens when you send me over to dad's house. I learn curse words. Bad influence."

"Honey, your dad loves you. You're the light of his life and he loves spending time with you." Kate tells Ereka matter-of-factly, her tone filled with unwavering certainty.

"All they do over there is be angry, argue with each other, and drink until they make up more reasons to keep arguing. Then it usually goes to fighting and breaking things. I hate it."

"How long has this been going on?" Yelena inquires, her voice laced with worry.

"Since I was little. That's what grandma's house has always been like."

"Who argues and breaks things?"

"Everyone. Everyone is always over for dinner and definitely on weekends. Dad and Uncle Billy get into it every time they start drinking. Aunt Viv drinks even more now that she's getting divorced. Her and dad argue all the time too. And then Aunt...it's a lot of people and I don't want to sleep over anymore."

"Ereka, did something else happen that you're not telling us? Something bad?" Yelena doubles down on her line of questions.

"No. I just want to come back home every night. I want to sleep here. Always."

"You can tell us anything. You know that, right?"

"I'm telling you right now!"

"Okay...hey...let's take a breather." Kate interjects, attempting to calm her.

"Ri, look at me," Yelena asks firmly. "Did anything inappropriate happen over there and you're scared to go back? Because if something did, we will..."

"Oh my god! No one like...touched me or did anything weird! Ew. Don't go there. I just don't like them. That's it. Nothing illegal. I mean, I have seen illegal things, but...nothing illegal involving me. I swear. Truly...that's not it."

"Promise?"

"Promise. It's not that. Really."

Yelena nods, her gaze shifting between Kate and Ereka, silently acknowledging the weight of the situation.

"We'll talk about it and get back to you.“

"There's nothing to talk about. We can't do that."

"We'll talk." Yelena insists, her voice firm yet gentle. "Give us some time, okay?"

Ereka nods and Yelena reaches across the table, placing a heartening hand on Ereka's.

"Thank you."

The girl whispers and finally takes her first bite of food, her appetite slowly returning. The table falls into a solemn silence as they continue their meal, each of them deep in their minds.

---

Yelena lies in bed, her hands absentmindedly caressing her stomach. Her eyes remain fixed on Kate, who moves around the bathroom finishing the last few steps of her nightly routine.

"Yel, we can't take this on,” Kate asserts firmly.

"Why not?"

Kate walks to the doorway, rests her shoulder against the jamb, and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Because we went to court for almost TWO YEARS to get the agreement we have now. How do you think it's gonna go over if I call him tomorrow and tell him we're breaking it? Do you really wanna go through whatever that brings up? Now? In the middle of this?"

Kate's hand gestures to Yelena's stomach, emphasizing their current situation.

"My feelings aren't more important than hers. If she doesn't want to go back, we shouldn't force her."

"Yes. You're correct. Absolutely. We should always take her feelings into consideration. But think about it like this, what she's asking is for us to get full custody and he gets SOME visitation rights. Under nebulous circumstances. What is she actually asking for? She gets to see him for two hours every other weekend and then comes home? We don't know what she wants, but whatever it is, I know that we don't have legal grounds to take her away from him. He's gonna fight it."

"And we can fight him."

Kate lets out a tired groan as she switches off the bathroom light. She moves to the bed, slipping under the covers, sitting up, and leaning her back against the bed frame. Her eyes are glued on the darkened TV screen across from her, her mind seemingly lost in serious contemplation.

"You two would fight all day if it were up to you, but *me*...I'm over it. This isn't something that's realistic and as much as I hate making her do something she doesn't want to, no judge is going to take his partial custody away. We don't even have any reason to take him back to court. Nothing's changed."

"She said she's seen illegal things...We should ask what that is."

"Yelena..." Kate turns to face her wife, her expression showing both fatigue and vulnerability. "...I don't have another two years of court in me. I don't have even another second of his tantrums and his shit in my body. I can't do it. Especially knowing we're not going to win. He's been...better???"

"That's a stretch."

Yelena reaches out and takes Kate's hand in hers, intertwining their fingers, and grounding her. Grounding each other.

"It has been better. You can't deny it hasn't. Why do we want to poke the bear?"

"For her. I would poke the bear for her."

Kate's shoulders slump as she exhales a heavy sigh, the weight of their situation bearing down on her. Yelena squeezes her wife’s hand gently.

"What happens when we go through a long, miserable custody battle over this, then she's suddenly sixteen and wants to go sleep at her dad's because we did something to piss her off?”

"Nothing. She goes to sleep at her dad's. Because that's her choice. As long as it's her choice, it's fine. But we shouldn't force her into a situation that makes her clearly unhappy." Yelena takes a beat, thinking. "What if we don't have to go to court? What if we all sit down and talk about it?"

Kate lets out a bitter laugh.

"Yel, please."

"It could work."

"When have you two ever been in a room where the situation doesn't end with me stopping you from killing each other?"

"I can't exactly kick his ass right now, so...different circumstances. I mean, I probably still could, but unless I had to, I wouldn't."

"I love her and I love you, but I'm not doing it. I'm not going to detonate a bomb we don't even need to touch."

---

The next morning. Yelena finds herself perched on a booth in a bustling café, the air filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the animated chatter of the early lunchtime crowd. She grimaces and shifts restlessly, her hand instinctively soothing the spot where her daughter just delivered a formidable fighter-style kick.

"You need to cut it with that."

Yelena mutters, chastising the baby before taking a cautious sip of her decaf concoction. Her eyes remain glued on the café entrance as she anxiously awaits the arrival of the person she's meeting.

Thankfully, Yelena's anticipation is short-lived. The jingling bell above the door heralds the arrival of Tom, who enters the busy room and immediately starts scanning the patrons. Spotting Yelena, he makes his way to her booth. Their eyes meet and they exchange perfunctory nods before muffled, forced greetings escape their lips. Tom drapes his coat over the back of his chair and slides into the padded bench. Yelena's gaze remains fixed on the table, trying to conceal her agitation.

This close to him, Yelena can smell the alcohol on his breath. He doesn't appear visibly intoxicated, yet the unmistakable odor of Vodka taints the air around them, lingering like a cloud and a troubling reminder of his choices. It's barely 11:30 AM. This meeting is already off to a bad start.

"Hi. Thank you for meeting me."

"What's this about?"

"Look, I know things haven't always been easy between us." Tom remains silent and stoic, his expression guarded as he waits to see where this will go. Yelena’s attempts to conceal her unease only amplifies it. She's never been good at masking her genuine emotions or engaging in fake pleasantries, especially in situations like this. "All we've both ever wanted is the best thing for our daughter."

"MY daughter. She's nothing of yours. Ereka is MY daughter."

Yelena bites back her tongue and fights the urge to respond to Tom’s provocatory dig. If they start getting into it less than ten sentences into the conversation, this isn't going to go anywhere.

"All we want is the best for Ereka."

"I know that's what *I* want, yeah."

Yelena's phone screen illuminates, signaling an incoming text. She glances at it briefly. It's from Kate. Aware that her wife is oblivious to the current situation she finds herself in, Yelena decides to ignore the message for the time being, already anticipating Kate's displeasure when she eventually finds out.

Tom's eyes fly to the screen. His expression hardens and he locks his jaw as his eyes zero in on the background image. It's a photograph taken during the pregnancy announcement shoot Kate insisted on having. The still captures Kate, Ereka, Russell, and a pregnant Yelena standing in a vibrant field of fall-colored trees, radiating pure joy. It undoubtedly gets under Tom’s skin.

"What do you want? Why did you call me here?" Tom presses.

"We had a conversation with Ereka last night. More like she had a conversation with us where she made a request. We...I....*I* thought maybe you and I could talk like adults about it and deal with the situation. Parent to parent."

"You're not her parent, so...if there's anything going on with my kid, Kate can talk to me about it."

"Whether you like it or not, the judge granted me legal guardianship too."

"That fucking bitch judge fucked me over. I deserved full custody."

"Tom, I don't want to fight about that. That's not why I'm here."

"Then why are we here? Why is Kate not here?"

"I told you. Because I thought you and I could have a grownup chat."

"The fuck is going on with my kid?"

"I need you to listen to me. Before you respond or do anything, I need you to listen to me. That's all I'm asking for."

"If you don't tell me right now, I'm calling Kate. She'll tell me."

"Ereka wants to modify the custody agreement."

"What?"

"Ereka doesn't want to have overnight visits anymore. She doesn't feel comfortable being in your home, witnessing your family's behavior, and also just being away from us and her siblings. She made that very clear."

"My baby's twelve. She can't want or have a say in anything." Tom pounds his fist on the table violently, rocking everything and forcing all eyes in the room to turn to them for a split second. "If I find out you've been filling my kid's head with crap...I swear to fucking god I will end you."

"Ereka's happiness and well-being should be our priority."

"YOU…" Tom’s pointer finger comes within an inch of Yelena’s face. She musters every bit of self-control in order to not grab it and break it clean. "…don't get to tell me what my priority with my daughter is. She's MY kid and she comes home to me."

"That's not going to happen anymore."

“What? What’s not gonna happen?”

"I'm not forcing Ereka to do something she doesn't want to do."

"Try to take my kid away from me...see how that goes. You already stole my wife. You try to take my kid too and that's the last thing you ever do."

Yelena's demeanor takes on a sharper edge, her expression a mix of fury and defiance. Tom sneers, his eyes narrowing as he fiercely locks his eyes with Yelena.

"Are you threatening me?" Yelena asks, her tone challenging.

Tom leans forward, his voice dripping with venomous assurance.

"I'm telling you what's going to happen if Ereka isn't at my house this weekend. ALL weekend. Just a very clear warning."

"If she doesn't want to go, she's not going to go."

Yelena holds firm, unwavering. Tom's face contorts with rage, his entire body giving off menacing energy.

"If you come between me and my kid, I will fucking end you. I'll fucking kill you."

The remark hangs heavy in the air.

"That's a threat.” Yelena retorts, her voice calm and steady.

"Take that however you fucking want, but Ereka better be at my house at 10 AM on Saturday."

Tom abruptly stands, frenziedly ripping his coat off the back of the chair, and storms out of the café.

---

Kate's fingers fly across the keyboard and the rapid clacking of keys punctuate the silence of her office. She’s fully immersed, pouring her focus into crafting this proposal.

A firm knock on the door jolts Kate out of her flow. She recognizes the cadence of the thumping instantly - it’s her assistant. Annoyance flickers across her face, knowing this interruption will disrupt her momentum.

"What's up, Ash?"

Her assistant pops her head in while offering a courteous grin.

"Your wife is here."

Kate looks at her confused, with her brows furrowed in surprise.

"What?"

"Lobby just called. I told them to let her up so she's on her way. Should I let her in?"

"Yeah. Of course. Yeah. Thank you."

---

A few minutes later, a second knock reverberates through the office. Kate also recognizes this rapping without reticence - it unmistakably belongs to Yelena. The corners of Kate’s lips curl and her face lights up as she watches the door swing open, revealing her visibly pregnant wife standing there.

Their eyes meet and the mere sight of Yelena erases any trace of the stress and preoccupation Kate felt moments ago. She promptly pushes her chair back, eager to greet her wife.

"This is a nice surprise." As soon as the door closes behind her, Kate presses her lips against Yelena's in a tender, affectionate kiss while her hands instinctively come to rest on either side of Yelena's stomach. Kate steals a second kiss. "Hi."

"Hey."

"What are you doing here?"

"I did something...and I could've waited until tonight, but I also didn't know if you were going to get a call or text before that, so I figured it might be best to talk in person."

Kate's smile fades as she reads the somber expression on Yelena's face. Concern fills her eyes as she responds.

"What happened?"

"Can we sit? My back is killing me."

"Yeah. Yeah. Of course."

Kate places an allaying hand on the small of Yelena’s back, guiding her towards the two-person couch opposite her desk. They settle on the sofa and Yelena shifts her body slightly, opening herself up to face Kate directly.

"Not going to lie, I'm kind of very nervous right now. You never just show up at my office, especially not being cryptic."

A touch of humor paints Kate’s voice as she tries to ease the tension. She surveys her wife’s face, searching for answers.

"I talked to Tom."

"You did…what?" Kate asks, aghast at the mere idea.

"I called him and asked him to meet me at a coffee shop earlier. We talked about the custody situation because I don't think..."

"Why would you do that?!"

"Because I don't think she should go back if she doesn't want to."

Kate's voice rises with frustration and disbelief.

"No, no. What you want, what you REALLY want is to 'beat' him. That's what you want...You should've stayed out of my kid's custody business."

"YOUR kid?" Yelena scoffs bitterly. "Are you taking talking points from him now?"

"It was NOT your place to do that." Kate's eyes narrow as she retorts, her tone sharp and accusatory.

"He threatened to kill me."

"Yeah, I'd do the same if someone showed up talking about taking my daughter away from me. What would you do?"

"If I were an incompetent, insane drunk, I would want what's best for my children."

Kate's vexation intensifies, and she stands up, putting distance between them. She walks to her desk and starts to pace in front of it. The room feels tense, the air heavy with unspoken indignation from both sides.

"I asked you to leave it. I told you to leave it alone."

"She shouldn't..."

"You can make unilateral decisions about what kind of jelly you pick up at the store. You don't get to make unilateral decisions about custody shit, Yelena. I can't believe I'm having to even say this to you."

"I was doing what's best for her."

"No. NO, this was your chance to have another pissing contest with him and use her as an excuse. She's not a thing you use to get back at him."

"That's not what happened."

"That's EXACTLY what happened. She's my daughter and you are WAY out of line. Neither of you has claim over her."

Yelena's expression becomes steely.

"I only wanted to fill you in before I went to the police."

Kate's eyes shoot up and widen as she stares Yelena down.

"What are you talking about?"

"He made pointed threats against our family, so I'm filing a police report and requesting an emergency restraining order against him. For all of us. I already called the school and let them know he's not allowed to see her until further notice."

"If you don't wanna be signing divorce papers too, you leave this alone. I'll talk to him and this'll be done. We'll pretend it didn't happen."

"I can't do that, Kate.” Yelena’s resolve strengthens and her voice is firm.

"Yelena, I'm being so beyond serious right now. Drop it."

"I'm sorry, Kate, but I can't in good conscience leave it open for him to harm our family."

Kate's frustration boils over, and she strikes her hand down on the desk.

"WE WOULDN'T BE HERE IF YOU HADN'T PULLED THIS SHIT! I told you...I asked you not to touch it. And what did you do? Go behind my back and blow our entire lives up. For what? FOR WHAT?!"

"For Ereka."

"Don't. Do not use her as an excuse. This is all on you."

Kate reaches for her phone, her fingers negligibly trembling as she taps on the screen. She brings the device to her ear, determined to undo whatever Yelena just set in motion.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling him. Controlling the situation before this gets out of hand."

"Kate, that's..."

Kate interrupts her curtly, her words teeming with aggravation.

"Don't talk to me right now."

The call goes to voicemail. Kate's impatience grows, but she tries once more.

"Katherine."

The utterance of her full name makes Kate glare at her wife, her eyes flashing warning signs that Yelena is willingly ignoring.

When the call goes to voicemail once more, Kate jumps into action. She reaches for her purse and heads to the door, her movements swift and purposeful.

"Where are you going?"

"To find him. And Yelena...if you file that report or a restraining order, you might as well also start looking for a divorce attorney because I'm not playing this game with you. I won’t. We are OVER if you do."

Without uttering another word, Kate stomps out of the office, leaving Yelena alone. The weight of their strained relationship hangs heavily in the air, thickening it with unresolved tension.

---

A few hours later. The front door to the apartment swings open with a burst of energy, and Kate ushers her lively children inside. Laughter and the pitter-patter of tiny feet fill the air, infusing the space with a tangible joy and warmth. Like a conductor orchestrating the symphony of their homecoming, Kate deftly navigates the chaos and issues detailed instructions, guiding Ereka and Russell through their tasks for the evening. As the children settle into their respective activities, Kate makes her way to the bedroom to change into more cozy clothes.

Kate turns the doorknob and freezes in her tracks. Not only is her wife already home, but she’s immersed in an intense flurry of activity. Once a sanctuary of peace, the room is now a battlefield of chaos. Clothes and shoes are strewn haphazardly across the floor, like casualties of a tempestuous storm. Before a symbol of order and serenity, the walk-in closet now stands open, its contents spilling out in disarray, mirroring the turmoil that has taken hold of their lives. The atmosphere crackles with an electric tension, as if the very walls hold their breath, knowing they’re about to witness the unfolding drama.

There, in the thick of the chaos she created, stands Yelena. Her movements are frenetic, driven by an urgency that cannot be ignored. She hastily stuffs clothes into a suitcase, the rustling fabric punctuating the charged silence that fills the room. As their eyes meet, a kaleidoscope of emotions dance across their faces. Upon seeing Kate, Yelena's hands momentarily freeze before she resumes her frantic packing. With firm resolve, the rhythmic zip of the luggage bag serves as an intransigent punctuation mark, echoing with profound finality that pulsates throughout the living quarters.

"What are you doing?"

"When it actually came down to me and him, you picked him." Yelena utters, cold and distant.

Kate explosively thrusts their bedroom door shut and charges over to Yelena, feeling a wave of anger detonate within her.

"I didn't pick ANYONE. I picked sanity and peace. For them. They will always be my priority." Kate crosses her arms over her chest and stares at the floor, mind racing. A long beat and a million thoughts later, she scoffs. "After everything...'you picked him.' If *this*..." Kate spiritedly points around their room. "If THIS is what 'picking him' looks like Yelena, then I'm curious what you think 'picking you' would entail. Because fuck...WOW."

Yelena crams one last pair of pants into the already overstuffed duffle bag that sits next to the hefty suitcase she just filled. Her tense body struggles to force the zipper halves to meet; its bulging shape evidence of her lack of thoughtfulness while packing. The fabric strains against the zipper, resisting her efforts to contain its contents. After a few firm yanks, the metallic teeth reluctantly interlock, sealing her belongings within. Yelena grabs the handle of the large rolling bag before slinging the strap of her duffle over her shoulder, and a sudden surge of adrenaline propels her forward in the direction of the door.

Before she can make her escape, Kate's hand shoots out as Yelena storms past her. Her fingers find their mark, latching on to Yelena's forearm, their grip like a vice, anchoring her in place. Their eyes lock in a fiery exchange, a tempest of emotions brewing within their depths and threatening to consume them both.

"Where are you going?"

Yelena points to the envelope resting atop the dresser. Kate retrieves it, her jittery fingers slowly tearing it open. Inside lies an emergency restraining order against Tom accompanied by a police report.

"I'm keeping them safe. At any cost." The women glare at each other. Kate takes a step back, willingly putting distance between them. Her heart pounds in her chest as she meets Yelena's gaze. They’re now locked in a battle of wills. "I'm taking him with me."

"You're not taking him anywhere."

"We're just going to the Ritz for a few nights. Until we can figure out what's happening next."

"Yelena, my son's not leaving this apartment."

A clash of emotions thunders through the room, their conflicting desires colliding into a torrent of raw feelings.

"If Ereka is YOUR daughter, then that's MY son. That's how it works, right?"

"You're being petty about this?"

"I'm being logical."

Yelena's words cut through the air, her tone shifting to cold and calculated. Each syllable carries a sharpness that slices through their relationship's already fraying threads, leaving an icy tension behind.

"You're not even in the same universe as logical right now."

"Must be pregnancy brain, I guess." Yelena bites back.

Kate’s patience officially reaches its breaking point. She truculently strides to where Yelena stands, her steps exuding steadfastness. In a display of unyielding and assertive belligerence, Kate snatches the duffle bag from Yelena's shoulder, ripping it away without hesitation. With a single speedy motion, Kate hurls the bag several feet away, the velocity causing the already tenuous hold the zipper had to give way. The contents spill out, scattering haphazardly across the floor.

"Sit." The word hangs in the air, pregnant with authority. What Kate uttered wasn’t a request; it was a command and one that left no room for negotiation. When Yelena doesn’t move, Kate's tone grows more forceful, compelling her to comply. "Sit down." Kate reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. She dials a number with exigency. "I'm calling Landers, see if he can squeeze us in as an emergency right now."

"I don't need a therapy session. I need to go lie down."

"Bed's right there. Help yourself." Kate snaps at Yelena with a venomous undertone. "Hi Janey. This is Kate Bishop-Belova. I have a bit of a serious situation and I'm wondering if there's any way Joy can see us tonight? It's an emergency...Uhum...Uhum...Yeah. Please. That would be so helpful...Yeah. This number is fine...You're incredible. Thank you...Okay. Talk soon." Kate hangs up. "She doesn't know if tonight will be possible, but she'll talk to Landers and see if maybe tomorrow morning might work."

Yelena scoffs dismissively, her irritation evident.

"This is stupid."

"Yeah, I agree. Everything you've done today is BEYOND stupid."

"I already made a reservation."

"I couldn't give two shits about your reservation. Sit down. You are not blowing up our lives tonight. I'm not letting it happen."

"You're the one who brought up divorce."

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S BEING INSANE!" Kate screams, her voice cracking with emotion. "I can't talk to you right now, or I might say some things that I don't actually mean."

"Then let me go to the hotel."

"You're not going anywhere." Kate's words carry the significance of an ultimatum as she makes for the door. "I need to figure out dinner. What do you want?" Kate asks in an attempt to shift the focus away from their escalating argument.

"Nothing." Yelena's response is curt and indifferent.

"Pizza it is."

With that final declaration, Kate exits the room and shuts the door with a bang.

---

The sound of rushing water fills the air. Kate stands at the kitchen sink, dangling Russell in front of the open tap as she diligently works to wash away the splatters of paint that have found their way onto his tiny hands. The colorful streaks mix with the swirling water, creating a mesmerizing spectacle and carrying away the colorful remnants of his artistic escapade. Lost in her task and the words of the babbling boy, Kate momentarily forgets the apprehension that saturates the apartment.

But then she hears adult footsteps approaching from behind, disrupting the tranquil rhythm of the moment. Kate turns, her eyes widening as she sees Yelena purposefully making her way to the entrance, her duffle bag slung over her shoulder and her suitcase clutched tightly in her hand. A surge of panic courses through Kate, pushing her to act without a moment's hesitation. She swiftly shuts off the water and sets Russell down, his little feet pattering on the tiled floor as he toddles away, overjoyed that his paint-streaked hands are forgotten for the moment. Filled with a sense of impending doom, Kate compels her bare feet to glide across the kitchen tiles as she chases after Yelena.

"Hey. Hey. Was I not clear?"

"I'm not your child, Kate."

"You're acting like it." Refusing to let Yelena slip away unchallenged, Kate corners her wife in the foyer and plants herself firmly mere inches away from her. "Go back to the room. Pizza's going to be here in forty minutes."

"I'm going to the hotel."

"No, you're not."

Kate’s voice hardens, drawing a line in the sand. They glare at each other.

"Are you going to back me up on this?"

"No. You're wrong, so I'm not. I'm still not letting you leave because you're being beyond unreasonable. I'm not letting this get worse than it already is."

Yelena tries to push to the door, but Kate stands her ground, blocking her path with her body.

"Katherine..."

"I'm trying to stop you from fucking up this marriage."

"What if I don't want you to?"

They lock eyes, each searching for answers in the depths of the other’s gaze.

"Now you're just trying to piss me off. I know you too well. Go lie down. I'll send one of them to get you when food is here." Yelena doesn't move. "Who do I call to get rid of that stupid restraining order?"

"You can't end a protective order I requested."

"Then do it. Take care of it."

"No."

Yelena is resolute. Kate takes a measured, deep breath, making a concerted effort to keep herself centered.

"Yelena…”

"We've done it your way for years. It's never worked. It's about time we try it my way."

"I'm not backing you up on this. Get rid of it."

"No." Yelena repeats, somehow even more unwavering.

"You know what...fine. You want to destroy our lives this bad...be my guest." Kate finally relents. She steps back, giving Yelena all the space she needs to open the door and leave. After a beat of stillness, Yelena opens the door and walks out. Kate stands by, flummoxed, her heart heavy with incredulity and heartbreak. "I want you to be so very clear that you're the one doing this. You're the one walking away. Again. You're leaving a second time." Kate's voice quivers with a mix of anger and hurt. That stops Yelena in her tracks. "You said you'd never do that again. You promised and I believed you, so what is this? You promised."

With a heavy sigh, Kate steps away from the entrance, retreating back into the apartment but leaving the door wide open.

---

As Kate attends to the remnants of Russell's mess, the faint sound of the front door closing reaches her ears, stirring her from her thoughts. She turns her head, her attention abruptly drawn to the entrance. Her heart withers at the conclusive thud that reverberates through the air. To her amazement, seconds later, Yelena emerges from the foyer. Their eyes briefly connect in a charged moment before Yelena clenches her jaw tightly and strides deeper into the apartment, vanishing down the hallway that leads to their shared bedroom. Not long after, a resounding boom fills the air as the door is violently slammed shut, further emphasizing the growing chasm between them.

Lost in a maelstrom of emotions that threaten to engulf her whole, Kate's eyes linger on that hallway. Russell takes advantage of her distraction, seizing the opportunity to indulge himself. In a sudden burst of movement, the boy leans forward with a rascally grin and his tiny hands break the water's surface. The cold liquid splashes in all directions, showering the immediate area, including a generous dousing directly onto Kate's face. The shock of the gelid liquid snaps Kate back to reality with a gasp, her senses jolted by the sudden and unexpected intrusion. The temperature forces her breath to catch in her throat while droplets cling to her skin and drip down her face. It is a moment of undeniable clarity, a gentle reminder that life persists even in the midst of turmoil.

At least there's still a way back. It's cracked but not shattered. There's still a way to fix it.

#listen...its fucking 6:10am if you find a typo no you didnt #if there's any mistake or anythign doesnt make sense...no you didnt and yes it does #I'll reread this shit when I wake up but my brain wouldnt let me go to sleep until it was done #ive been staring at this for like twelve hours straight or something #just take it #kymau #kymaup #anonymous #answers

45 notes · View notes

bangtan-madi · 2 years

Text

All Of Our Lifetimes — Chapter Nine: The Truth Untold

Pairing — Taehyung x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Taehyung, husband!Taehyung reincarnation au, lovers to strangers and to lovers again, established relationship, implied soulmate au

Genre — fluff, angst, crime (ish)

Word Count — 2.6k

Summary — Does love ever truly end, or does it simply take another form in a new life? The cycle is like clockwork: your lives end and you’re reborn again. You’ve lived it over and over. Each cycle, one of you loses your memories and is tragically unaware until the other finds and awakens their lover. After all these eons, all these lifetimes, is it possible to find each other again—even when neither of you awakens with your memories?

Part — 9 / 15

Warnings — discussion of violence/murder

Note — Sorry for the delays on this chapter, and for the format that it's being posted in. Unfortunately, between the hurricane and a broken computer, I won't be able to post in the exact format I usually do with all the pictures and everything. I also won't be able to link anything, update my master list, or put a breaker in this chapter unfortunately. For now, this is how it's going to go up. I do plan on going back and editing in the banners and the headers and all of that as soon as my computer is fixed. Hopefully that will be in the next couple weeks, so if this chapter looks different later this year, that's why lol. Thank you all for being so patient and so kind on the previous chapters, but I am finally back to writing again! Enjoy!!

Previous — Next

"Where are you going?"

"To find that curator."

"[Y/n], hold up—I'm coming with you."

Your stomach does somersaults as Taehyung grabs your hand and pulls you in the direction of the elevator. His stride is just as determined as yours, and you feel immense comfort with his hand in yours. As small a gesture as it is, it feels warm and helps subside the anxiety within you.

Despite the lack of film in the last few months of their lives, for whatever reason, you know exactly how your past lives' story ends. You've seen it your entire life. It ends in a bloodbath.

But you had no idea that they were being threatened for months before their deaths. You didn't realize the ins and outs of reincarnation, as [Y/n] told it. If what she said was true, then Taehyung should have gotten his memories back when he turned twenty-one in this lifetime. If you think back to your dream, you remember she'd said something along those lines.

"Come find me. In the next one: meet me there."

From his spot next to you in the elevator, Taehyung looks down at you with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Are you?" You turn and lock with his gaze. "Those were our past lives, and not only were they murdered shortly after those clips, but I now know that they were being stalked way before then. All of this, everything lines up with my dream. And god, I don't want to be skeptical or logical... I believe all of it."

"I do, too."

"You do?"

Taehyung nods, and his dark curls fall over his forehead, barely brushing over his eyes. "What I'm wondering is why didn't I get my memories back at twenty-one?"

Shaking your head, you sputter, "Maybe it's because we were murdered at the same time? From the way they were talking, that's a first. The cycle was messed up. I don't know how or why." You pause, and the elevator dings up another floor. "Do you remember anything at all? Have any memories come back?"

Taehyung bites his lower lip and turns his gaze away. "Something's there. It's like a word on the tip of your tongue. You're familiar. All of this feels...right? I don't know how to describe it."

"You said you believe it."

"I do. That film wasn't faked. Those people were us. Everything they said feels right in my heart. I just...I don't have proof to back it up."

Your hand tightens around his, fingers lacing together as you state, "Well, I know who can give us some of that."

The elevator doors open, and you pull Taehyung along as you head straight for Ms. Jwa's office. You might not know exactly where it is, but the wing of offices is just down the hall from the service elevator. She can't be far.

The middle-aged woman looks up from her computer as both of you enter without knocking. She seems surprised at the sudden entrance, but her shock dissipates quickly.

"I have to say, that was faster than I thought."

"Who were Kim Taehyung and Kim [Y/n]?" you ask, getting straight to the point.

Ms. Jwa sighs and leans back in her office chair. She gestures for you to close the door, then motions to the chairs across from her. "Have a seat." A beat of silence follows the closing of the door, and you both take your seats. "I assume you watched the film?"

"We did," Taehyung nods. "Have you?"

The curator nods. "I did."

"Then you know about reincarnation. You knew Taehyung and I might come back."

Another affirmative shake of her head. "Which is why I kept everything that belonged to you both, as you requested I do in late 1994. I was surprised, but now I see why." Her gaze shifts back and forth between you and Taehyung. "You really are mirror images of them. It's astonishing."

"You were their friend?" you inquire.

Ms. Jwa's face shifts to a small smile, but behind the expression, there's deep sadness. "I was. If you want, I can start at the beginning." When neither of you speaks up, she continues. "Taehyung and I went to the same art school in Daegu. We're both from the city and wanted to make it big in Seoul. He was kind of like the big brother I never wanted."

She flashes a grin at Taehyung. "No offense. When we moved to Seoul, we got jobs here as junior curators. I was more on the art history side, whereas Taehyung was the true artist. He always said he wanted his works to be displayed here someday." Her eyes drop to her hands, clasped in her lap. "Which is why I felt it was only right to put his memorial here and display his favorite photographs."

She shakes her head, pulling herself out of memory. "Your past selves met and fell in love very quickly. I thought it was strange. Taehyung was a...unique person. Always was, and he didn't often click with people right away. But [Y/n]? I don't believe in soulmates, but those two were the exception."

"Before they died, they were being stalked," Taehyung intervenes. "By who?"

Ms. Jwa shrugs her shoulders. "We don't know. We assume it's the same person that killed them, but there's no way to know for sure. He was practiced. He knew what he was doing. The evidence was inconclusive, and the cameras were blacked out. I have no idea how he got in after-hours, what his motive was, or how he got away."

Your breath catches in your throat at her words. Something in the back of your mind told you that he might've escaped. Your dream shows him injured, bleeding profusely, but stumbling out of sight. You'd hoped that he'd wandered off somewhere and died, and he might have—away from the Museum—but your stomach sinks regardless.

"It wasn't just stalking. Taehyung and [Y/n] received death threats for months before they died. It started with Taehyung, around the time he met [Y/n], and then she started getting them as well. Always anonymous. Even the police were baffled."

"So what you're telling us is that even after all this time, there are no answers?"

Ms. Jwa clearly sees your dismay, but can offer no condolences or closure. "I wish I had more to tell you, but that's the extent of what I know. I kept everything in that vault downstairs hoping that one day one of you would show up again and be able to tell me what happened to you. I figured Taehyung would be the one to get his memories first, based on the video footage, but when he showed up as a pop star with clearly no memory of his past, I thought..." She trails off and takes a pause before continuing. "I thought it best not to push the issue. I wasn't sure if the cycle had broken, or if he was merely trying for a different life this time. Either way, I wanted him to be happy. He looked happy to me, at least from the outside."

Taehyung heaves a deep sigh, shaking his head profusely. "How many times did I come to visit this place, and you said nothing? You must have seen me before yesterday. Why didn't you tell me anything?"

You're right." The curator's eyes drift downward as she says, "Maybe I should have said something. Perhaps that would have sped up the process. I did what I thought was right at the time. Maybe that was to quell my own guilt." She lifts her head and offers an apologetic smile to us both. "Now I can see that that was wrong. For that I apologize. All I can do now is make up for the lost time and offer you answers that I have." She gestures with a flourish of her hand to the doorway. "All of the things downstairs or yours, feel free to take any of it. But as for who killed you, or why, or what happened to them, I'm afraid no one has those answers."

You ride from your seat, take a step forward, and move closer to the curator to lower your voice. "Then tell us why were we here that night. If we knew we were being followed, I know what I would have done and it's not coming back to the one place that I knew we wouldn't be safe."

"You're correct," she says. "That is the only other thing I can tell you. You were about to leave the country that night. Like I told you, Taehyung and I were very close. He didn't have many friends, but Emelia Popescu and I were the only people he considered as such. It was fate that we all worked in the same office. Because of that, he wanted to see us one last time before you left. Both of you came here to say your final goodbyes to Emelia and I."

"And we didn't say anything that made you ask questions?" Taehyung inquires.

Ms. Jwa scoffs lightly. "I asked all the questions in the world. You wouldn't tell me anything more than the matter was urgent and leaving was necessary, and that you would send word for where you were when the coast was clear. To be honest, everything about that night terrified me even before...before the accident."

The name she mentioned moments ago brings back memories of a corpse at the base of a stone figure, crimson expanding along the tiles of the floor. "Emelia was the other girl that was killed, right?" You have no idea what the girl actually looked like; those memories have yet to resurface.

Ms. Jwa nods once. "Yes, I had left to take an urgent call after I had said goodbye. Emelia had offered to walk you both out. That was when you were attacked." She shudders, and Taehyung instinctively reaches out and places a comforting hand on her shoulder. At his touch, she steadies and flashes a watery smile. "Emelia was killed first as a distraction and lure, and then the both of you were..." Her sentence trails off, but you all know how that story ends.

That can't be it. This cannot be all that there is. All the memories, all the dreams, the flood of confusion and emotion that has wrapped you in a vice-grip the last few months -- it's all been leading to the moment of truth. Your heart was racing this morning, the thought of finally knowing what happened in 1995 sending you into an elated but terrified tizzy.

You never thought that the answers would be so close, yet slip between you fingers like the water from the Museum fountain where you and your lover were brutally masacred.

But you've seen the evidence yourself, all of your belongings, and spoken to someone who knew you both well. Every piece of truth she has is in her mind and in her vault below your feet. If the answers aren't there, where could they be?

How can that be all that there is?

You step back, leaning against the nearest bookshelf for support, gripping one of the shelves so tightly you know your knuckles are white. "There has to be something you can tell us about who he was," you murmur. "Something, anything."

Taehyung's gaze meets yours, and you can see for the first time that his desperation mirrors your own. Even if it wasn't obvious to you when you first arrived in South Korea, Kim Taehyung has been searching for his own answers just as fiercly -- if not more so -- than you. Whatever cycle you both have been in for god knows how many centuries has not been broken, but it is damaged. While he should have been the one to remember at twenty-one, there is a part of him that longs for rememrance. Something deep inside has been pushing him towards the truth and constantly reminding him that parts of his life are awry. Even if everything from the outside seems perfect, you can tell from those eyes that he needs this just as much as you.

"Did no one see his face, or a glimpse of anything?" he rephrases. "And how did he let you live when the only other three people in the building were murdered?"

The curator walks over to the bookshelf nearest you, searches the columns for a moment, and retrieves an old file. This one is a bright red color, different than the others on the shelves and easy to locate. She opens it and hands us a composite sketch notebook for that has Seoul Police Department written on the face.

"There was one witness that saw him in a dark alleyway. Not much detail was captured, but she did remember a few distinct details that she told the police. This is the composite sketch that was created based on her details. I'm not sure how much help it will be, but it's yours if you want it."

Taehyung joins your side, arm brushing yours as he God's affirmatively towards the notebook. He doesn't say a word, but his expression tells you everything: "Go ahead. I'm here. This might be the only answer we get."

In a burst of untethered courage, you open the pages to reveal the single composite sketch on the first page. It's merely charcoal on white paper, but the expression of a man you've seen in your nightmares stares back at you with a haunted hatred all over his face. Memories from the past flood back to you, not just from your deathly dream but further than that.

Decades.

Centuries.

You've known this man's face for as long as your soul has been a soul. The last lifetime, the one before that, all the way back to the very first one. The death in your dream from 1995 is only the beginning; this is a face you've seen in your very first life, the one you only started to remember when you came to Seoul.

Your hands begin to tremble, and a lump swells up in your throat. Taehyung steadies your grip, concern covering his features. He says your name, but your ears are ringing and his voice is drowned out by the panic racing through your body. The book drops from your hands, your knees buckle, and your eyes roll back into your head.

Never in any nightmare did you ever think you would the face of your first parent again, let alone with a smoking gun in his grasp and your blood on his hands.

Taglist — @just-call-me-trash-can @jaiennn @happyhrsme @butaes, @peter-pan @twoteen-yup @dreamcatcherjiah @aelinashryv @luvth @cheoriemoawa @xyahrinx @say-something-nice-missy @btseverafter7 @kris10duh

(Taglist is always open! Comment below!)

#bts #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #taehyung #kim taehyung #bts fic #all of our lifetimes #taehyung fluff #taehyung fic #taehyung x reader #taehyung x yn #reincarnated au #reincarnation au #soulmate au #kim taehyung x reader #aool #husband!taehyung #boyfriend!taehyung

128 notes · View notes

poisonous-honey · 3 months

Text

Hello hello! I deleted some of my other blogs and will slowly re-upload the fics and drabbles I made here. I hated having everything separated, this is just my attempt to make navigation less confusing for me. Also, so I can tag everything properly from the beginning lol

Website Master list/To Be Uploaded

Mobile Friendly Version under the cut (Work In Progress. Some links won't work I think, I just copy-pasted from my other page)

Masterlist - Word Wall

Hello! You found the word wall :) I’m using this as both a master list to stay organized and to keep track of what I haven’t finished yet.

If there’s no link, it hasn’t been uploaded. If you can’t find it, it might be in a collection page. If it’s neither then send an ask, I forgot lmao.

Genshin

Honestly assume it’s SAGAU unless stated otherwise

3.3 Tier List Mayhem

Scaramouche- I guess you should say Wanderer, has finally been released, and you’ve used him all week. After you’ve basically drowned yourself in content surrounding him after the Sumeru Interlude Quest you feel an update to your tier list is in order

36-Stars Of Jealousy

After a year worth of grinding you’ve finally conquered it, but at the cost of Venti’s exclusion. He should be happy for you, but can’t break away from his seething jealousy and sadness.

Cats On Crack (Collection)

Luck never seems to be on your side. You always seem to end up helping other unlucky souls on their own journey, as if fate itself thought it was your job to be a substitute guardian angel. Maybe that’s why you find yourself standing in front of a group of cats protecting one of their injured. It doesn’t matter if it’s Lady Luck or the Goddess of Fate condemning you to this role, but you hope they step on a Lego Brick. (Not SAGAU)

The Cruel Act Of Breaking The World

They try their hardest to keep you entertained. To keep you within their realm of ones and zeros, so your immersion doesn’t fall, and their mind doesn’t shatter. They know their walls are fake and lives are merely code, but that doesn’t make seeing the out-of-bounds any less harsh.

Fontaine Is Committing Childe Slander FR

Childe’s treatment in the Fontaine Archon Quests puts you in a terrible mood

Garden Of Eden

The world has ended and there was nothing they could do about it. Xiao and Aether share a quiet moment in a sea of flowers. (God Reader || Not SAGAU || Reader Isn't Even Physically Present In It)

Genshin Is Crossing Over (Collection)

Where all the crossover fics are kept (i.e. The Venti Parable, Does Having Animal Ears Make You A Pokémon etc.)

Genshin Incorrect Quotes (Collection)

Silly and crack. Basically what the title says.

In The Abyss We Learn To Worship

Why does Childe seem to be your most devoted acolyte, even surpassing that of the Archons? (KINDA CULT AU (ALSO OLD))

Irodori Festival

Little blob!

Just Unbuilt, Or Am I Unwanted?

As you try to improve Xiao’s build for the 100th time, some of the others finally lose their patience

Losing Your 50/50

An ask by Coldbarbarianpeace!

Nahida’s Precious Tailor

The little lord of Sumeru calls upon your aid as she wishes for a wardrobe change.

Naming Wanderer Something Silly

An ask by Anonymous!

SAGAU Darling That’s Been To Other Games

What if for the SAGAU Darling doesn’t end up in Genshin first, but in a different game. Or maybe they were in multiple different games before they landed in Genshin. (HAS IMPOSTER AU IN IT (AND OLD))

Skipping Dialogue

What do the characters do when they find out you’re not paying attention?

Soul Crushing Guilt

The Knowledge That You’ve Been Controlling Real People With Thoughts And Feelings Has You At A Loss

Twins In SAGAU

For the self-aware Genshin AU there have been some slices where Darling has a twin and the twin either isn’t respected as much or in the villain au they’re treated as the imposter. That’s cool and all, but what if the twin worked for Mihoyo (OLD)

Why Are Their Designs So Complicated???

You thought Kaveh would be an easier character to draw. At a glance, his outfit is much simpler than a majority of the casts, so you thought he’d be a safe pick for fanart. How wrong you were.

(18+)

Honkai Star Rail

Losing Your 50/50

An ask by Coldbarbarianpeace!

#Pois.Posts #i just need to remember when i wrote all of it #some are easy to guess #some not so much unfortunately #might've done me good to write the dates down before i deleted everything #:qiqi-has-fallen:#Since my blog theme is freaking out and I remembered they don't even work on the app anyway #I'm adding this here so my to-do list is still accessible #masterlist

9 notes · View notes

ilkkawhat · 7 months

Note

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 🤍

aw 🥺 thanks for sending this to me

Half Past Midnight: My first fic I wrote after a...idk how many years it was hiatus, right at the start of me falling back in love with CSI again and creating things for it; I took such a deep dive into Nick's head and part of what I did in writing this was watching only Nick's parts on a loop, in the dark, with headphones on and I distinctly remember a point where it really got to me and I gasped for air and spooked my dog (don't worry he was okay just startled lol) It was also the first fic I started playing around and including my own headcanons in there

Last Breath: I just...have a lot of good memories from writing this fic. It was probably the most interactive, like I would go so far as to say it was almost even like a collaboration because so many people pitched ideas (the idea for the fic as a whole was straight up handed to me on a silver platter) and made the fic better for it, and I also really got to know my Stokes children OCs in doing this fic--I did do a handful of fics for them before this, but I feel like I really hammered down who they were and it won't be the last fic on this list but I do also have the sequel (First Flight) to use as a chance to cover things I missed in the first one and explore more universe altering headcanons. It was also my first like, longer fic at around 64k word count wise, and right now my longest completed fic lol

Atrophy: I swear this list I'm just going off of fics that I have distinct memories of attachment to; this one I started writing on my way to a wedding and brought back an OC I created back when I was a teenager. After the wedding I had to go to this university for a class paid for by my job and I spent the car rides there and back brainstorming, and even writing in between classes (and if I recall...even during class at some points shh.) Its sequel Agony is uh, giving me some challenges and I regret a lot of things like maybe pushing it out so fast and then losing steam and wishing I did some things different/toned it down, but Atrophy I still feel mostly good about (though man imagine if I went as hard on it as I am with Agony as long and drawn out as it is lol) and the ficverse as a whole is definitely a favorite of mine

For Your Viewing Pleasure: Surprise, another Grave Danger fic. I wrote this during a pretty rough time and just remember being proud of myself for doing it, and wrote it all within a week and the ideas and words just kept...flowing. It felt like I was truly in my element when I wrote it and helped me remember why I love writing so much.

Specimen Stokes: God I know this fic also went off the rails like Agony did where I worry it became like...too much and should have held back a little (no pun intended) but I will never forget the day I ran out of work to go start writing a one shot in response to an anon who I don't even think technically asked for it as a fic, it was like "choose between these scenarios" and as I started to think about it I just...couldn't help myself. Like Atrophy I have sequels in mind and all sorts of things I want to do and I swear I actually have the rest of this fic installment planned out it's just...writing it lol. And taking the plunge into making it sci-fi and twisting the characters in the AU has been a blast and I feel like a great amount of my creativity has shown through in this fic, the edits and stuff I made for it, and the ideas I have coming up.

#i know i'm not really on here anymore and haven't even created much since what. april?#for sure I haven't really giffed. maybe made an icon or two #but i have been writting little bits and pieces here and there and recently had a dream that inspired yet another fic #that i'll probably never write/finish but i think I might combine it with another WIP and if it is ever done...the angst man #i just wanna make things again and feel good about it #though i guess writing so much about my fics has to be worth something in regards to that...right?

15 notes · View notes

cydanite · 2 years

Note

Swamp duo au,,, what does Cod Father think about new Jimmy and God Joel? Does he wonder what happened to Lizzie? She’s a god, surely she’s still around? Pearl! Pearl always seemed otherworldly? Or maybe Gem, she was always super smart, maybe she made an anti aging potion and is being all magical at Crystal Cliffs?

I am also rotating this at Mach speeds. Like the Mach speed frogs.

Rotate with me, anon. So fast we can generate electricity and never pay the power bill ever again...

I'm debating on how the new mcs relate to the old ones. In canon, at least for Sausage I think, they are reincarnations? I think the Jimmys are just different people. The Codfather sees the Sheriff and is reminded of when he held the Crown, someone a little too hungry for respect. Not that he doesn't deserve to be respected, but going about it the wrong way maybe. The Sheriff sees The Codfather and is mostly just weirded out at first.

God Joel, from an outside perspective, is strong, handsome, powerful, respected, competent. I think on first impression, The Codfather is maybe a little jealous? If he had been a better leader, more fit for the role, maybe he could have achieved this? The past is long enough gone for him to not be angry at it, but the thought sits like a stone in his stomach. God Joel seems to see everything with the same kind of indifferent comparison to himself. Most people are not gods like him, so why should he care if they're fish men or not? It's hinted in S1 canon that the seablings are at least a little bit unearthly, maybe that's encroaching enough into godly territory to peak his interest.

Jimmy of course has always wondered what happened to his fellow rulers (Those that didn't die during the rapture at least...) He knows they're all most likely dead after 1000 years but can't help but hold out hope. In the S1 finale I don't think Jimmy sees Lizzie lose her axolotl form, he may think she is also out there in some ocean. Does her losing that form cause her to loose her longevity as well, or is it still within her somewhere? Who is and isn't alive still, I haven't decided on. Most of my headcanons for implementing respawn and stuff into lore is similar to @/emdiart's empire marks concept which is very very good (Basically as long as you commit to your promise to tend to the land you call home, that land will protect you back and allow you to carry materials beyond your capacity/build quickly/come back from death/heal quickly etc. That is what it means to be an Emperor in this world). We have a canon answer for Pearl though! I'm sure that will come into play eventually...

#swamp duo au #empires smp au #esmp au #empires smp #esmp #empiresblr #empires shubble #empires shelby #shubble #shubbleyt #empires jimmy #jimmy solidarity #solidarity gaming #the codfather #mcyt #mcytblr

130 notes · View notes

fbfh · 2 years

Note

Maybe I’m out of pocket for this one but consider… possessive mindflayer!Billy x vampire!Eddie 👀👀 (poly anon again)

THAT IS THE BEST THING IVE HEARD ALL DAY MY DEAR POLY ANON!!!!!! GOT ME GIGGLING BLUSHING KICKING MY FEET LIKE THE MONSTER FUCKER I AM!!!!!!!!

Flayed!Billy is so fucking protective over you,, demogorgons don't even get within 10 feet of you before they bow quickly then turn and run. He has you sit on his lap all the time, sometimes slipping inside you to keep him warm, cause you are so so warm for him, just because he likes you there. He dresses you up all pretty, keeps you on his lap or by his side whenever possible, you're basically his cherished pet. And vecna help him if any harm should come to you, there will be more than hell to pay.

And we know how possessive vampires are, so vampire!Eddie is no exception to this. God you smell so fucking good and you're the only thing that makes him feel human again, feel alive again. He might not have been able to protect you from the pain of losing him but by god he's going to protect you from anything and everything else that could upset you. He just watches you all the time, his skin so cold against yours. He still kisses you, touches you like before, but now the hickeys he leaves usually have two little pin pricks from his fangs framing the side of the bruise.

Bonus points for possessive monster hunter!Steve op this isn't an au who was your rock when you had to mourn Billy, and the only thing that kept you going when you had to mourn Eddie right after that. Steve saw all that pain, the loss, the way it effected you nearly breaking you. Now both of them are back (for the most part at least) and as much as Steve hopes they're still the people you knew, he also knows a thing or two about monsters. He's not naive, and he's not above flat out threatening them as soon as you're out of ear shot. If they can't control their thirst or bloodlust or whatever you want to call it, if there's even a chance they'll do anything to hurt you, Steve won't hesitate to send them back to the upside down if he doesn't kill them again first. But he can't deny them the chance to be with you again, especially when he sees how happy their presence makes you. He just hopes for your sake he doesn't have to follow through on his promises.

#tw grief #stranger things #drabbles #steddingrove #steve x billy x eddie #poly steve x billy x eddie #vampire!eddie #flayed!billy #monster hunter!steve #tw smut #poly anon #ALSO MY DARLING HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE NICKNAME POLY POCKET ANON??!??!?!!#1. bc you signed off as poly anon 2. bc you said out of pocket 3. BC I LOVE MAKING POLYAMORY POLLY POCKET PUNS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#theres my persuasive essay <3

72 notes · View notes

gallawitchxx · 2 years

Note

Bee I am OBSESSED with M8TE! I absolutely cannot wait for the next chapter to find out how things play out with Ian and Mickey. Also this last chapter…oh..my…god🥵🥵 It was sooo good, I’m a sucker for some good smut and them being absolutely feral for one another🤤🤤 there’s not nearly enough a/b/o fic for gallavich and this is definitely my #1 right now! I’ve read it about 6 times now (mainly for chapter 3😏)

CHEY! heLP this is so nice 😭😭😭

thank you so much for telling me this & thank you so much for leaving it here as i'm so behind on ao3 comments even though they give me pure life force energy & reason to live juice!!!!

i never in a million billion trillion years thought that i'd be writing a/b/o, but lemme fucking tell you, it's been a TREAT. i'm absolutely loving what it adds to the world--the scents! the feral! the inevitability of them despite how they might try & fight it! plus, it's fun to write that push/pull between them.

& i agree that this fandom could use some more a/b/o because it a) works SO well for them -- canon scent kink anyone? -- & b) offers so many cool options within the world.

so i def want to shout out a few more!

@sunoficarus one-shot beneath the surface (rated M, no smut, just pining!)

@chat-noir12 short multi-chap you can't always get what you want (rated E, so fucking good i lose my mind regularly over it)

@traenawrites one-shot series alpha (alpha) (rated E, they're both alphas!)

@breedxblemickey has TWO incredible fics: drip, drip (so slick) & half of a king (both rated E, the first is alpha!ian's rut & the second is a royalty au!!!!)

again, thank you & chapter 4 is on its way, i swear! xx

#M8TE #a/b/o #fic rec #ask bee #answered

39 notes · View notes

captainimprobable · 1 year

Text

Posting this to keep myself accountable, started working on the roommate AU ~

Amity breathes in deeply, letting the smell of the books surrounding her settle the intrepid pattering of her heart.

The Young Adult section of the store calms her down and makes her feel more grounded. It always has, ever since she was a teenager. Something about the familiarity of the titles, the promise of other, better worlds among the pages on the shelves.

She takes another breath. I am calm, she thinks. Maybe if she thinks it enough it will become true.

Flashes of her mother calling her names come to mind, but she stubbornly shoots those thoughts down in favor of perusing the bookshelves and choosing new titles to put on her latest display.

She’s lingering over a copy of Good Witch Azura 2, knowing her boss won’t let her put it up on display for the third month in a row, when a voice startles her out of her reverie.

“Hi, Amity!”

Amity yelps and drops the book. Unfortunately, the hefty volume lands on her toe. “Shit!” she yells, jumping up and down on the one foot to get pressure off of the injured one. As she does this, she reaches out to the shelf to balance herself. This causes her to lose her grip, and, before she even knows what’s happening, she’s lying on the floor with all the books she knocked off the shelf.

She lies there on the ground, toe screaming and arm twisted underneath her, surrounded by books, wondering why she even bothers. She is not calm.

She is very much not calm.

A face swims into view above her, and she almost curses again. Hovering there is Luz Noceda, her favorite customer and sometimes-sort of-small-crush.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Luz says in that quick way of hers. “Let me help you up!”

Amity accepts the hand Luz offers her, and they stand up together.

“Thanks,” Amity says. “Didn’t mean to freak out there, you just surprised me.”

She bends down to start picking books up off the floor, and Luz squats too, reaching for the other books.

“Yeah, you looked like you were really in your head there,” Luz says. “You okay?”

Amity sighs. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she says automatically, but the despondent tone of her voice gives her away.

Luz just looks at her, brows raised.

Amity shakes her head like she’s trying to clear it. She stands up, books all cleared, and leans against the bookcase. “It’s nothing anyone can really help me with,” Amity says. “Not unless you know of an apartment within walking distance looking for an immediate roommate.”

“Wait,” Luz says. “You’re looking for a place to live?”

“Yeah, but I’m not very hopeful. I’ve looked everywhere, but I have to move out by next week, and….well, nobody needs a roommate that soon.”

Luz looks like she just won the lottery. Her smile is slow and steady as she says “I do.”

#lumity #the owl house #idk what im doing anymore #writins #roommates au #jaytp

13 notes · View notes

cravingbro · 1 year

Text

Heartbroken Escape

siblings oneshot au: 3,2k words — harsh words, platonic intimacy, travelling, low intensity of self-harm, vulnerable masculinity, description of ex-lovers, mention of alcohol, contains emoji and few incorrect capitalization.

Being homme fatale outside the house when he was born goofy sometimes made him exhausted. There were times when he was out of his mind and lose control over his charm, usually when he just broke up with his girlfriends which I already lose count. He would ask me to accompany him to do something he wouldn't do with his ex or when he already booked this and that.

He's so stupid at times. Why would he booked a village cottage staycation when he knew his ex was more of a shopping-all-day type of girl? Or why would he booked a trip months in the future knowing his ex still keep in touch with her previous boyfriend? What the fuck was he thinking at that time?

Whenever I asked him about that, he'd answer with, "I really thought I can change her."

No, you don't?! Hello?!

My God ... and I had to replace her ex whenever that happened. Yes. It didn't happen once. It happened over and over again. I became his heartbroken escape he could rely on since our mom would still force me to go even when I said no and busy.

Staycation with my bro? I've done it before. A trip to Jeju with my bro? Oh ... hell yes, we did.

He became super random when he just broke up. He once bought a whole fishing equipment before we went to Jeju, saying he'd find fish in the sea because that what her ex said to him.

✨️There's plenty of fish in the sea. You'll find someone better than I am✨️

I swear to God I still remember him climbing through Yongduam's Dragon Head Rock while cursing her ex out loud. That was one of the best version of Heartbroken Jaehyun because he wasn't crying sad or appear fatigue like he always did. He was mad MAD.

“Look?! You said there was plenty fishes out there. I’ve come to the seashore and I catch none!” he screamed his lungs out while carrying an empty bucket which he threw away right in front of me. He then sat down next to me and kicked the sand out of madness.

“At least use your brain a little. If you were a fish, will you live peacefully within the beach waves near these giant rock? I guess you could ruin your brain by hitting your goddamn head over the rock every hour in your life,” I replied. He glared at me before he hissed.

“Fish could swim better than us human, you dumbass, and waves only works on the surface … down there should’ve been peace and quiet,” he stated, still with a bit of anger on his tone. I laughed immediately. I thought he lost his mind so much that I could just lie about everything. After a moment of silence, he added, “Well, maybe if we dive, we could actually find fishes.”

“Do you want to dive tomorrow?” I asked. He nodded heavily followed with a blank stare. Then he said, “But we have no clothes for diving. Not even preparing an extra underwear for that.”

“Geez, we’re in Jeju, not in the middle of the sea. We’ll find a supermarket and buy extra undies later,” I answered while punching his arm. His face suddenly lit up as he smiled.

“Our parents definitely knew what they were doin’ when they have you.” Out of nowhere, he threw a compliment as he stood up. Then he lent his hand to help me standing up before he brought the bucket and the entire fishing equipment inside. Later he walked passionately before me as if he was never complaining about how shitty his life were. I followed him as I sighed and shook my head in disbelief.

We walked pass the seashore without any conversation. Once in a while, the water hit our legs. Sometimes it felt like a sudden flood which made our pants wet. But we were at the beach and we expected that anyway. The one that was surprising for my brother was when his sandals got trapped in the sand. At the same time, the waves took it away. So, I witnessed him trying to catch his sandals back to the sea. He were shouting, “No!” as he ran faster than the wave.

After he got his sandals back, he decided to walk barefoot. So he put his sandals inside the bucket along with his fishing equipments and continue walking. Just when I thought he forgot my existence, he stopped before a big rock and let me walk first. He also lent his hand while whispering, “Watch your step.”

“Bro,” I called as we reached the end of the big rock pathway. He hummed and raised an eyebrow as a response. I continued, “I just remember that I never dive before.”

“Same,” he replied then chuckled. I have no idea but when he admit the things he never done before, it kind of relieving for me. I feel like being incompetence is normal and that is okay to not master everything. I embraced his waist and put my head over his shoulder as we walk side-by-side.

“This might sounds evil but I’m glad that you broke up with her,” I stated. He linked his arms on mine and intentionally bumped his head on mine before asking, “Why?”

“She controlled you … so inhumanly. I hate it when things got awkward between us—“

“That happened? I didn’t even realize,” he cut my words and I nodded.

“Of course you didn’t. You were blindly in love! But I get it, she’s pretty, charming, and everything. But she’s so fucking insecure that she decided to gate keep you away from everyone including your own family,” I replied. He smiled and nodded, meaning that he actually agree with what I just stated.

“I did try to not exclude my life before her—“

“I know … I could feel that recently. I guess … two months before you broke up, you’ve return into The Jung Jaehyun I’ve known,” I said. He looked at me with a weird glance but then he laughed. Then I added, “I mean … you know … you were like … sorry, she ask me to accompany her … or something like … I don’t think I can drive you to the school. Gosh, I hate that bitch, honestly. Sorry, I tried to like her when you dated her. But now … I don’t think I can.”

“You don’t have to. Whatever it was between us, it’s over,” he replied. So I asked, “You sure about that?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why were you shouting this and that in front of those hidden fishes before?” I asked another question. He shook his head as he chuckled. He took a deep breath before answered, “That’s because I was mad like hell. Partly because I feel like I should’ve done it long before last week.”

“The breaking up, you mean?” He responded my question with a nod. I caught his eyes looking through my eyes. I could feel sorrow and anger in him but his silliness still dominated his aura. So I laughed instead of sympathizing his bad days. But he took it with a grain of salt and pinched my nose jokingly.

Fast forward, we bought extra undies, flower themed t-shirts which was an impulsive buying (I got yellow-green and he got purple-pink), and a big bag of snacks. The day after, we went diving. He got headache from not being able to adapt with the tension underwater. Then asked me to massage his head, which I did because I am world's greatest sister.

Months later, he fully healed his soul and started a new relationship with another person, which by the way, crashed exactly eight months later. How foolish. I had to see him having another full cycle of failed romance relationship.

This time, the girl admitted that she was cheating and asked him to end their relationship. She went back to her ex-boyfriend and abandoned my brother when he already book a villa for their staycation agenda. That bitch literally got me raging for a week. Because of her, his surprise plan for their staycation had cancelled. Yet he could not refund his booking so he begged me to keep it as a secret and asked me to accompany him. Again.

I almost refused his offer had he did not show up in front of my room wearing a black suit with loosened tie and white shirt with few top buttons unbuttoned. He looked so desperate that I could literally saw dried tears over his pinkish cheeks. Something bad truly happened during their dinner and he could not handle the emotional damage caused by the breaking up. That was the worst heart break he ever had in his entire life.

“Don’t tell mom that I just broke up. Not yet. I’m not ready,” he whispered that night. He sat on a small couch, hugging his legs and stared emptily at the ceiling. I had my eyes locked at him and saw his expression transformed from trying too hard to stay strong until he finally bursted in tears. He cried quietly and suddenly I was as broken as he was. I remembered I had to witness him shattered in pieces for an half hour before his tears stopped completely.

Compared with his previous toxic ex-girlfriend, this one was a complete different. Even our mother liked her that she kept asking about her, not knowing the fact that my brother were no longer in relationship with her. There were days when I had to secretly hug him at midnight when I heard him sobbing during his sleep. There were days when he kept losing his games and reacted with nothing, which was very unlikely. At his worst, he even pretended to finish his meal in front of our parents when we had family dinner outside, but threw up right after. I was there. I have seen it all.

A day after, we went for the staycation. He used his own saving to pay the villa so I used mine to buy food and beverages. I brought a lot of canned beer since that might be the only time we were far from our parents while staying within the same city. We ate grilled beef and drank a little. No, actually he drank quite a lot that he lost conscious that night.

He started rambling about exam college after finishing two cans. Then he poured his feeling into words through shouts and whispers. He rolled himself on the sofa and fell down. He cried and complained about how solid the floor was.

“Holy fuck, why is this floor hurting me so much?!” he asked as he punched the floor. I had to held his hands to stop him from hurting himself even more.

"Stop."

"Please, stop."

"Jaehyun!"

He raised his head and locked his eyes on me before he moaned, "Hmm?"

“Don’t talk to me like that,” I demanded. He looked at me with a soft smile before untie my hair. I tried to grab my hair tie but he threw it instead. I could not help but to sigh since I guessed he had mistaken me as his ex-girlfriend.

“I thought you mean it when you say we meant to be together,” he implied. He looked down and sobbed immediately. At that point, my brother was already completely drunk and lost himself away from his own sanity. Meanwhile, I could only keep myself conscious and quiet. I had no idea how to drag my brother away from her shadow. He fell way too deep that I was not able to reach him anymore.

“She doesn’t have to be your everything for you to be whole, Brother,” I uttered. He did not respond at all. For a moment, I could only hear his painful crying which had been my evening melody for the past few weeks anyway.

“It hurts me … so much! Especially when you say stuff about the future where I’ll spend my life with you and you think that’s going to validate your reason for neglecting my sister?” He suddenly looked up and glared at me sharp. I was out of words. I had no idea what to respond as it was not meant for me in the first place. At the same time, I did not expect whatever he just said.

“If you use your fucking brain for once, you should’ve known that now I have you and my sister. Yes, you could rely yourself on me. I’ll help you whenever I can, but so is my sister … and I have no plan on abandoning her for you, unless I’m sure who’s that other guy she’s relying on … which is not going to happen in a night,” he yelled while grabbing both of my arms tight. He then flicked his fingers right in front of my face at the end of his sentences. I gulped. How could he defended my ass even when he was drunk?

“Losing you is an option I’ve always consider. But losing my sister … when I was the one who wants her … not in a chance,” he whispered as he placed his forehead on my shoulder. Then he linked his arms on me and embraced me in warmness. He then added, “I actually don’t mind with you saying shit about me to everyone. Even when people know the story … only from your side, about you dumping me to get back on your ex, I’m quite chill. But saying my sister’s toxic and that she’s the one who ruin our relationship … Gosh, back off!”

“She helped me choose your birthday present, even when she know you’re not being nice to her. What do you mean she’s evil?” he continued, raising his tone as if he was angry with his ex. But, it was just me that was listening to everything he said, his literal sister. Later, he stopped rambling and started sobbing instead. I have no idea why in the world a guy as big as he is would cry like a toddler craving for a balloon. I could not help but to chuckled as his sobs were getting wild. Days before, he would cry in silence and I thought he was dumped. However that day, I found out that he was the one who dumped her and I was part of the reason why he did so. I found every fact while he lost control and embarrass himself. Well, I guess I was lucky.

That day, I thanked him for being such an amazing brother. Thank you for saying that I am not an evil person when I actually recorded him crying on my phone and kept it as an lifetime coupon I could redeem at anytime. A blackmail, he would call it as.

The next morning, he could not recall his memories when he was drunk and I decided to not tell him the truth. After those conversation, I actually put him on the sofa covered with a blanket. But when I woke up, he was already on the floor with his face kissed the floor, drooling disgustingly. I covered his face with a blanket, hoping he would wake up from the suffocation. Then I cooked a simple dish for breakfast, Spaghetti Aglio Olio.

Later I heard him shouted, “Why did you let me sleep on the floor?”

“You literally move there by yourself. I thought you fell in love with the floor,” I answered, shouting back at my brother. He gasped and threw his face away from me. Yet he took a plate and filled it with the spaghetti then mumbled, “It was a one night stand.”

“Silly,” I mocked. He bumped his shoulder to my back then started to eat while walking towards the living room. I joined him eating in the living room right away. That morning, we watched a replayed badminton match on television.

“What happened last night?” he suddenly asked as he chewed his meal. I shook my head slowly then replied, “I said nothing. You really don’t remember anything, huh? What was your last memory?”

“We ate beef. Then what?” he answered. My jaw dropped as if I just knew how low his alcohol-tolerance is. He pinched some of my hair and hissed. Then I shouted, “Fuck!”

“Tell me now!”

“Nothing happened! Oh my … bitch, stop pulling my hair!” I grabbed his wrist even though I knew I would never free myself from his grip. I was struggling while he peacefully drank a glass of water.

“I’ll make you bald if you don’t tell me anything,” he threatened. But I knew he never meant any of it, so I pulled his hand away then replied, “I’ll use wig for the rest of my life. Not a big deal.”

“Shit.” He suddenly stood up. I followed him standing up and ran for my own’s sake. Yet he did not attack me like he usually do. He just went to the kitchen and washed the plate on the sink.

“I’m not in a mood to do that, my body’s aching like hell,” he said. I sighed as I finished my spaghetti. I joined him washing dishes as I said, “You’re planning to ruin yourself, don’t you?”

“I have to,” he answered then glanced at me for a while. “She consumed so much of my time and I’m so disappointed—“

“Whoa whoa whoa—“

“In myself,” he finished his words, although I cut him beforehand. It felt like an anticlimax. I raised an eyebrow out of confusion. “Frankly honest, I knew it’ll happen. We were close because we had time talking about our ex. But it was … well … different. I had enough of that girl, but she wasn’t. Yet I’m still forcing myself to start the relationship. Silly me,” he added.

“Yeah … silly you,” I confronted him while splashed him water. He sighed and glared sharp. I tried to make him less mad by asking, “So, you were crying every night because …?”

“Not every night, come on!” he protested as I chuckled. He grabbed my shoulder and I knew exactly that it was my time to run. So then it started, the Tom-and-Jerry routine this morning by chasing each other. It was super tiring that we lost our breath countlessly.

“Alright, enough running. I wanna do badminton,” he shouted from outside the room. I, who was hiding behind the curtain, then shouted back, “Me too!“

He watched me coming out of the door with a pokerface while I was smiling wide. He pretended to threw a fist on me as I walked pass him. Then he smacked my head playfully before he stroked my hair.

We ended up playing five rounds of badminton until the sun got higher. Ever since that day, he stopped dating anybody. He decided to find his zen and lowkey rejected everyone who wanted to get to know him. Couple times I’d advise him to not be harsh on himself and stop trying to be solitude. But if that kind of life comforts him, I eventually supported every of his move. I tried, at least. Yet there were times when he needed me to be his fake girlfriend. So he would asked something like, “They force me to come to this party because they always see me alone, thinking it would be great for me to socialize. But I don’t want to. So, help me. Come with me so that I can reject their invitation next time.”

“Son of a bitch,” I’d always answered him with.

#jaehyun au #nct jaehyun #jaehyun #nct au #siblings au #fanfic #short ficlet #buddie fic #slice of life #sports #fic #brother #drabble #imagine #what if #oneshot #nct oneshot

9 notes · View notes

anniesocsandgeneralstore · 1 year

Note

M here! Here are the AU’s I have come up with today!

The Princess Bride

When Jake Met Ronnie aka When Harry Met Sally

Pirates AU- spin-off of Pirates of the Caribbean: Jake is Will, Ronnie is Elizabeth

Indiana Jones

Kim Possible (maybe)???

Childhood pen pals

Strong Disney Princess: Ronnie saves herself; Jake is there for moral support

The Holiday

While You Were Sleeping

OOOOHHHH MY GOD OH MY GOD OKAY LEMME GATHER MY THOUGHTS FOR EACH OF THESE HOLY SHITE

new aus hot off the presses folks let's get it

1 The Princess Bride AU

like fuck dude that movie slaps so hard

and Jake as the Westley type with the ripped-open shirt after the ROUS attack?? that's some good stuff right there

i feel like this may be an au though where a lot of the original characters stay the same cause they really are just so classic and i just can't bring myself to replace them. as much as i love the other pilots.

the other daggers can just be friends within the castle or something

2 When Jake Met Ronnie AU

i've never seen when harry met sally, but you explained the general plot to me M and honestly it works

i feel like i don't have much to say since i haven't seen the movie lol but you know what's up M

3 Pirate AU

MOTHER FUCKIN PIRATE AU

this another one of my weird ass hyperfixactions, i own so many books on pirates

am I allowed to take this idea I had for a different fandom and change the characters? I mean it's my idea I should be able to right??

So Ronnie as a pirate captain, the other daggers besides maybe Javy, being her crew

Jake as the Commodore with the British royal navy who gets captured by her

something something adventure something something falling in love

but i also could see working JAKE being the pirate captain with the dagger crew and Ronnie is just a passenger on another ship that he takes and he takes her captive for ransom from her wealthy brother

i could see, and enjoy, it going either way

which do people like better??

4 Indiana Jones AU

mmm mmm Professor Jake Seresin in the anthropology department with the glasses and the tweed vests and the escaping out his window to avoid office hours

like of course he's the stud of the whole campus just look at him

i am in FUCKING LOVE WITH IT

i don't know if i would want to follow a movie plot exactly

so maybe he could go on a different adventure (perhaps looking for The Hand of Midas? or Excalibur?)

and maybe ronnie is the one who goes to Jake for help because her brother was tasked with looking for one of these things, finding it before the Nazi's do or whatever, but he's gone missing

they fall in love along the way, get into danger, she probably gets captured or something, they find brad, find and lose the treasure all the span of twenty minutes and bada bing bada boom

5 Kim Possible AU

yeah.....not sure how I feel about this one either lol

by design jake is too cocky to play a ron stoppable type, it just doesn't fit him at all

can see it as a couples costume though lol

6 Childhood Pen Pals AU

oh now this is interesting

everything is basically the same, so regular au but just like a bit to the left

maybe they started being pen pals through the navy when they were kids, a way to connect kids who have a parent who died in service

they sent their first letters and replies begrudgingly, at the insistence of their mothers

but pretty soon their back and forth was natural and consistent throughout the rest of their childhoods and even into their teenage years

they definitely developed crushes on one another, sent pictures back and forth. but they were too scared to exchange phone numbers or anything like that. this, with the letters, felt sacred.

but then jake went off to the academy and his replies took longer and longer, and suddenly they just stopped

ronnie knew it was going to happen eventually. but it still hurt. she moved on, but kept every letter and picture he sent in a box she moved from house to house because she just couldn't find it in her to throw them out

but then she finds herself in fighter town, working at a crusty bar, and some young aviator walks in and he looks vaguely familiar. she sees the last name Seresin pinned to his khaki uniform and her stomach drops

no fuckin way

oh my god this concept is making me lose my whole mind. cause they know so much about each other!! in such an intimate way!! in a way that a lot of people probably didn't. they grew up together in a way, within those letters.

excuse me as pace around my apartment thinking about this good lord

7 Disney Princess AU

this kinda already feels like the Fantasy AU i've already established

so i don't really know what to add to this lol

8 The Holiday

okay ive never seen the holiday, but i looked at the wiki plot synopsis so here is my best attempt

Ronnie and Jake's sister swap houses for the holidays

I'm not gonna focus on what happens to Jake's sister...she also finds a boo while staying in Ronnie's house it's chill idk

but i love the idea of Jake coming to his sister's house drunk off his ass to find some other woman there and they both decide to just fuck. that's so funny to me. and so on brand for those two horn dogs

but other than that i am unsure on anything else

like should jake be a widower with two daughters like the movie? should they get snowed in after the drunk sex and fall in love with some sweet forced proximity? do they just keep running into each other during her stay?

it's cute but ya know how it is

9 While You Were Sleeping AU

while you were sleeping is such a weird ass movie but i love it

i guess Jake's gotta have a brother in order for this to work (Jensen Ackles anybody?)

i still want this set in Cali, just because that is where Ronnie belongs in all honesty lol, so maybe she works at a surf shop/surfing instructor place and Jake's brother frequents

he gets into some accident and Ronnie takes him to the hospital, musing to herself about marrying him one day

according to movie jake's family shows up, they think she's his fiance, yadda yadda she falls in love with jake instead

her and brother almost get married but she can't go through with it

she ends up with jake instead

in this jake would come from a big family, and it's something that ronnie has always wanted since she only has brad

Thank you so much for sending this in my sweet M 💕

#annie answers #my precious m #annie the au gremlin #my hoard is growing #oc: ronnie bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman #are there any of these in particular that y'all would want to see more of?

8 notes · View notes

kassandragreyson · 2 years

Text

Qcard Helluva boss!AU

For the last few days I had a crazy AU idea for Qcard ship. Is anyone familiar with the Helluva Boss with Blitzo and Stolas? If no – run to watch, if yes – point the difference. For real! This is so accurate and at the same time AU verse that I am chocking down here. I have a few ideas of how Picard and Q would develop their relationships with grey moral! Picard and obsessively blind! Q, thanks to @yourbuerokrat2 for planting this idea in my head lol. But I see it a bit different so let me show you my pre-fanfic sketches. Sorry for my English tho, not first language lol. Did not check everything well cuz wanted to share the idea ahah.

Let say that Picard’s moral is not that high standard as presented in TNG. Picard as any human is vulnerable to some of the forbidden fruits, including greed to power (in order to save and protect the Federation of course) and egocentrism. The safety of people he loves and the nations of Federation is his main directive and life priority, nothing can stand in between this and him, this is the reason why he is keeping distance in any relationship. So when the god like entity appears on his ship, starting causing some troubles, but after some time, helps, Capitan starts to re-think his priorly made statements regarding Q and his involvement. After all, the Dominion is getting stronger, the Borg approaches the territory and the Starfleet loses its positions. They need a new start. A miracle. They need Q. First, this sounded crazy, but as more Picard thinks of it and more, he reads the death reports over the news, more he becomes tolerant to it and acceptable.

It really helps that Q is into him. His fascination, curiosity and, eventual, flirt, helps Jean-Luc to come closer to the playing games entity and start slow manipulate him, dragging into co-dependent relationships. After all games, all circus performances and dirty talks, there is no single doubt that it all Q’s game that he made up out of his boredom. Picard thinks of it as win-win situation: he breaks Q’s boredom and he, in exchange, helps those who are really in need. After all, if he can keep this trickster out of trouble and make him do something really useful, his body and time not really a high price.

But it is totally different for Q. Oh, this mortal really went deep under his neurons. So stubborn, brave and smart. Such an interesting mix of morality and sort of stupidity. He intrigued Q from the first Farpoint meeting and keeps staying in his thought all the time since then. It is hard to be an almighty immortal creature that is literally is older than most of the galaxies. It is boring, depressing and dark. Too lonely for someone who is craving for partnership and adventure. In Q Continuum, it is not really a common thing to find what to do. You are a god, why would you bother yourself too much? Especially, contacting these mortals and playing exhausting mind games, that they are even uncapable to perceive. Within a second, Q becomes a joke for the whole family, who is being mocked for his vulnerability and blindness. But Q does nor care. All he sees is his fate with Jean-Luc Picard and that they were meant to be together. He finds him as his long-waited soulmate, who is here to learn and teach. This spiritual and even religious thinking is the reason why he does not even bother to read Picard’s mind. Because if he would, he would never been trapped into this toxic co-dependency with someone, who believes it is a casual joke.

It is all started after Tapestry, where Picard finally takes a step to seduce Q and play his little show. It was pretty easy to convince Q to share a bed with him. Entity was so happy and excited, that absolutely lost his mind. He did become more exciting and chaotic, as Picard’s finds, but for Q it was an absolute win! Such a love/touch craving creature, finally got what he wanted (even if it is limited by Picard’s work) and poor little thing does not understand the true meaning of it. His family does. But who will tell him? They are too lazy for their own adventures and this drama, that popped up like that, is the best time spending activity. No one will tell Q a single piece of the truth, because all of this is really helping with boring days and apathy.

Lady Q is mad, she is mad like hell, because he chooses him, simple weak bald mortal and not her! She is furious and anxious for the revenge. At first, she wanted to kill this mortal on his eyes, but after some thinking, she decided that looking how Picard breaks Q’s heart and then becomes the victim of his own actions, will bring her much more pleasurable satisfaction. She does not love Q and never wanted to be with him. Their son is the only thing that keeps her around. So, it is all about her ego and selfishness.

Q’s son probably would help, but due to the young age, teen attitude and his own affairs with Itchib, he hardly notices his dad’s love interest.

Being almost married to Miss Q is extremely hard for Q. They are the same kind but so different. It just does not work the way he wanted it. Junior is the only Q who keeps him from leaving the Continuum. He is the only reason why he still keeps any contact with Miss Q and not trying to destroy their family home during one of his anger episodes.

It is hard to be with Q and he knows that, so when Picard asks him for some favors, he takes it as a request for gifts, the least that he could provide for his love and time. Q truly believes, that it is normal, to be loved only when you prove your worthiness and generosity.

As more they play this game for two, as more both are drowning within. Q is happy with their relationships, but he is not absolutely stupid in his blind obsession. He wants more, not just casual chat and rough fuck in the different part of the Enterprise. He wants dates, kisses, soft and loving attention. He wants more talking and hugging on the pillow. He wants to be allowed to stay overnight, hold Picard at sleep and make a breakfast together. He might be socially awkward and have a lack of experience in human romantic, but he learns, slowly but he does. He looks at the Deanna and Riker, at La Forge and Data. He notices. He is jealous and disappointed.

At the same time, Picard, despite all rumors, has a heart too. He plays his little show, but as longer time passing by, as more he understands that he falls for Q for real. I mean, he is literally the oldest creature he knows, who witness the rise and fall of the empires. It is so tempting not to ask him and not to crave for his knowledge and experience. His archeological part is dying to get him know better. After all, he is craving for something deeper and more real. Q has always been the biggest mystery of his life and to learn about him would be frankly provocative. While his desire and longing for Q raises, his fears of being open and close to someone do so as well.

At one point, Picard goes on the mission, and they are getting trapped by Romulans/Cardassians or whoever. While they are being tortured, Picard getting drugged and hallucinating. In his dreams, he sees Q, full of light and promising safety. He tries to reach him, get some warm of his hands, but as further he goes, as tighter he feels the golden chain on his neck, that Q holds on another end. The Borg voices are screaming of his fails and desire to be loved. They mock him for his weaknesses and tells that no one will ever love such a cold and indifferent man like him. That even the God is just playing with him like with the pet.

At some point, when they were all about to get killed, Q appears. And no in the bright light as usual, but more in the demonic form. Hard to say if this is the true form of Q or just the way he wanted to appear, but it has an effect for everyone. Including Picard who is speechless and scared, probably in the first time. This power, strength and fear makes him want to hide under the table and hug himself. Despite all the expectations, Q did not kill anyone, just scared. Q is not really a killer or sadistic maniac, as we see from Deja Q he does not like pain, so I would assume he does not like to hurt people around him too. He never for real had hurt neither Picard nor anyone of his crew. But it does not change that he can be the most terrific monster that humanoid brain can perceive.

This makes Picard to re-think his game plan and feelings towards Q.

After some time, he gets another mission and the only way to complete this is to use Q as his “boyfriend” and ask him for a date. All doors are open in front of Q so he has no troubles to get it the right place. Q is absolutely happy; he was asked for a date (for the first time!) and he is not going to mess this up. Right until the point where he figures out that the place belongs to his old enemy, who is using the opportunity to put Q down, by pointing out on his relationship with a mortal. Despite the fight and hard time, after Q delivers Picard back into his quarters, he express his joy with their date. But Picard is silent and uncomfortable. He is embarrassed and scared. The game is not a game anymore and he is tired of pretending.

At this point, I am not sure, whether the Capitan will find out that Q had a real feeling for him or no, but one thing for sure, Q finally sees Picard’s intentions towards him and leaves. He is furious, hurt and hear broken. His family celebrate the end of the drama and mock him afterwards. This might be the end or the beginning of the biggest revenge that the Alpha quadrant have ever see.

#qcard #jean luc picard #captain picard #q star trek #startrek tng #helluva boss #stolas #stolas x blitz #fanfic ideas #may write something later lol

14 notes · View notes

hrodvitnon · 2 years

Note

Sorry it took a couple of weeks, but I’ve finally got the next portion of this done! I went into more detail on this part, and I’ll be curious to see what you think of it. 😄

– – –

My Biollante!Maddie AU, Part 3

A deep growl rumbles in Godzilla’s chest as he accelerates through the depths of the ocean, homing in on the source of the plaintive, wailing cries that are echoing across the world. He cannot tell exactly what this strange new creature is — its calls are erratic and distorted, making it difficult to pick out any details — but those calls sound far too much like a member of his own kind for it to be a coincidence. But this one does sound quite different from the two adolescent males that he’s taken under his protection in the past few years, so he can’t afford to drop his guard in case it turns out to be something else entirely.

Far ahead of him, tucked inside the base of a gigantic rose-tree, Madison Russell shifts restlessly in her sleep. In her mind’s eye, she is tangled in a mass of twisted, thorny vines that leave trails of fiery pain along her limbs with each movement she makes. She can see a faint light filtering down from someplace far above her, and she desperately fights to free herself, trying to rise up towards it, but the thorn-covered vines keep tightening around her in a smothering embrace, biting into her skin and pulling her down into the darkness. Some of the vines are tipped with tooth-lined pods that sway back and forth above her tethered form, uttering a chorus of soothing murmurs in echoes of her own voice as if they’re trying to comfort her, but drops of green acid leak from between their teeth and rain down upon her, burning her skin wherever they make contact. Her joints grind and crunch with each movement, cracking sensations rippling up and down her spine every time she convulses within the vines. She screams, pleading for help as she continues thrashing within her bonds, but there’s no one there to hear her.

After what seems like an eternity of this torment, however, something changes. For a moment, she hears something else, like the chime of a bell that pierces through the fog of darkness surrounding her. The vines’ grip loosens, the pain recedes for an instant, and she looks up towards the faint light filtering down from above as she recognizes the sound: a familiar voice, calling out her name.

“…Maddie…?”

Her eyes widen. Aunt Viv?

But then the voice fades away, the vines wrap around her again, and Madison Russell is dragged back down into the darkness and the pain.

– – –

The Monarch team erupts into a chaotic mass of shouting as soon as San’s message finishes crackling over their boat’s radio. Some people don’t believe it, while others are too shocked or horrified to think straight. Mark Russell is in the latter category: he’s gripping the railing of the Monarch boat with white-knuckled hands, his entire body shaking and a silent scream playing inside his head over and over – Please, god, no, please not Maddie, please let her be okay, I can’t lose her too – as his mind replays all of the bizarre symptoms that Madison had displayed prior to her disappearance, going over them again in a new, horrifying light.

Monster X’s female half feels the same way. They sink to their knees in the shallow water, the glowing light of their green eye going almost completely dark, a silent, numbing rush of horror chilling them to the bone. The chorus of haunting, echoing wails that are echoing from the plant Titan’s many mouths, and the telepathic calls that accompany them, are sending shocks of agony and horror through Vivienne’s half of their mind with each haunting cry.

Help me… Please… It hurts so much… I don’t know where I am… please…

Sister! A mental jolt from San finally snaps Vivienne out of her horrified trance. Focus! She needs our help! He’s just as shocked as she is, of course, but his memories of the brutal atrocities that his former self participated in for millions of years mean that he can recover from a nasty shock more quickly than she can. I know, he tries to reassure her. I’m so sorry. But… we can’t help her if we lose ourselves. Need to stay calm, as much as we can. For her sake, if nothing else.

With a great effort, Vivienne manages to pull herself back from the edge of panic. You’re right, she agrees, her voice still shaky but more determined now, as her green eye returns to its normal bright glow. Thank you.

San performs one of the little tricks that they’ve figured out after a decade of sharing a body as a way to physically communicate with each other, quirking up only the left corner of their mouth to form a distinctive half-smile. Just doing my job, little sister. We protect each other, no matter what.

No matter what, Vivienne agrees, nodding as their gaze shifts back to the giant plant that’s still calling out in Madison Russell’s voice. And the same goes for her. She’s the closest thing to a daughter that I’ve ever had… and there’s nothing I won’t do to protect her.

– – –

Once Monster X has confirmed their discovery, the Monarch team tries to overcome their astonishment and figure out a way to deal with the situation. Mark almost collapsed when they reaffirmed what they’d heard; he was already in shock, but at that point he suffered a full-blown panic attack, came extremely close to having a complete mental breakdown, and is now sedated and unconscious in one of the bunks on board, while the rest of the team are trying to figure out what to do next. Considering what’s happened, nobody on the boat blames him.

“I don’t get it,” Rick Stanton mutters as he leans against the boat’s railing, staring at the giant plant in disbelief. “How the fuck did Maddie turn into that? I know she was having some weird symptoms after that Bio-Major lab accident, but there are weird symptoms and then there’s something like this.” He’s coped with the shocking news in his typical fashion, and is already on the third refill of his personal flask.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Ilene Chen quietly admits, shaking her head and holding the rail firmly to suppress a trembling in her hands. “But… I do have a theory, based on what happened to Maddie in that lab.” She glances up at Monster X, who is sitting cross-legged in the shallow water next to the boat so that only their head and shoulders protrude above the surface and is listening to them via a customized radio system that the team have set up on board. “According to what she and the G-Team squad found in that facility, the Bio-Major scientists there had been using samples of Godzilla’s DNA to create a gene-therapy mutagen serum that could be used in making new types of resilient, fast-growing crops. But when Maddie dove into that vat to escape the fire, and ingested some of that liquid…” She shivers. “My best guess is, once the serum got into her system, it started mutating her genetic code the same way it had for the plants, mixing her DNA with Godzilla’s and with genetic material from the roses that they had been using for the experiments. Then, some kind of shock – maybe from those two Bio-Major agents breaking into her safe house, either something they did or just the adrenaline rush of being in a life-or-death situation – kicked that mutation process into hyperdrive, causing her to physically transform into a hybrid Titan.”

“So… she’s part-human, part-rose, and part-Godzilla?” Rick whistles dryly, taking another swig from his flask and exhaling heavily. “That’s a weird combo.” He frowns. “Okay, so… is she gonna stay as a giant rosebush forever, or…?”

“I think we can actually answer that question now,” Sam Coleman speaks up as he emerges from the interior of the boat’s cabin. “We were finally able to get some good internal scans of… that thing… and I think you’re all gonna want to see this.”

Using a projector screen that’s set up on the back of the boat so Monster X can see it (a method that’s become standard procedure on missions where they’re involved over the last few years), Sam displays the images that the team’s sensors have picked up, showing a three-dimensional layout of the massive plant. While more than half of the plant rises above the surface, the water where it’s taken root is still almost two hundred feet deep, concealing the lower half of its trunk. A large root system splays outwards from the base of the trunk like the roots of a mangrove tree, growing down into the seafloor. As they’ve already seen, those roots are wrapped protectively around what appears to be a glowing, membranous sac, roughly spherical in shape and as large as a twelve-story building. But the internal scans reveal that tucked inside that glowing red sac, curled in on itself in a fetal position, is the thermal outline of a large, loosely-humanoid figure. Due to the sac around the figure, the finer details of its appearance are difficult to make out, but it has two arms, two legs, and a head, and it appears to be at least as big as Monster X.

“Maddie…” Vivienne’s voice whispers, crackling faintly over the boat’s radio. Even through the static, her voice is shaking, and it’s clear that she’s fighting extremely hard to hold back tears. God… please let her be okay.

“So… that’s the real Madison?” Rick frowns. “Then what’s the big rose-thing supposed to be?”

“Maybe… some kind of defense mechanism?” Sam shrugs. “If that’s her real body inside that core-thing, then the larger plant could just be an extension of her. Like, maybe it’s just a mechanism meant to help her absorb energy, or to protect herself while her main body finishes growing. There’s no way to be sure; we’ve never seen anything quite like this before.” He glances over towards the plant, noting the visible red glow that’s filtering through the water from the pulsing core at its base, before looking up at Monster X. “But, ah, Vivienne… San… you guys said it sounds like Maddie isn’t actually awake in there, right?”

“That’s right,” San’s voice confirms. “We can hear her, but it’s like she’s… dream-talking to herself. We’ve tried talking to her, but I don’t think she can hear us.”

“He’s right,” Vivienne adds, her voice much more shaky than his. “From… from what she’s been saying, it sounds like she doesn’t actually know what’s happened to her. It’s like her conscious mind is dormant somehow; maybe she’s in some kind of hibernation coma while her body finishes growing and changing. Something similar happened to us, when Mothra helped us to grow into our second form.”

“I mean, thinking about it, that does kinda make sense,” Rick muses. “Changing like that has to take a lot out of anyone, even a Titan. She probably won’t wake up and pop outta there until she’s done growing.” He sighs. “Unfortunately, that means… that plant’s probably gonna keep trying to kill anything that gets too close to her until that happens. Which isn’t great.”

“Also, we have another problem,” Ilene cuts in, her expression becoming more concerned as she emerges from the boat’s cabin, having received a phone call a couple of minutes earlier. “I just heard from Castle Bravo. Godzilla’s still on his way: they’re still tracking him, and he’s a couple hundred miles south of here at the moment, but if he maintains his current speed, he’ll be here in less than two hours.”

“And based on how badly Maddie’s rosebush buddy reacted when it was just us getting into her space… imagine how she’s gonna react when the big guy gets involved?” Rick grimaces, a sentiment that’s clearly shared by the others. “That’s not gonna be pretty.”

Monster X’s stomach turns and a horrified chill runs up their spine at the idea of a fight between Maddie and Godzilla. They scramble to their feet, rocking the boat with the resulting waves, and turn towards the looming giant plant with its pulsing red core. Their twin minds are racing, frantically trying to think of a way to defuse the situation without anyone getting hurt.

Finally, a potential solution presents itself, and they turn back to the people on the boat. “Tell us something,” their voices echo out of the radio, speaking in concert this time since they’re not bothering to take turns. “If Madison’s real body is inside that core-thing at the base of the plant, and the rest of it is just an extension… could we remove the core from the rest of the plant without harming her?”

The scientists exchange glances, considering that idea. “Theoretically… we probably could, yeah,” Sam agrees slowly, still thinking it over. “But… we’d have to figure out how to do that safely. And I don’t think that plant she’s created is going to just let us remove that sac from it. It attacked you guys just for getting near her; there’s no way it’ll just sit there and let us perform surgery on it.”

Monster X nods. “We’ve got an idea for that part,” Vivienne’s voice crackles through the radio. “For now, keep scanning that plant, and try to make sure that there aren’t any vital connections between Maddie’s real body and the rest of it. We’ll be back soon.”

After moving far enough away from the boat that they can take off without displacing enough water to capsize the vessel, Monster X spreads their wings and leaps out of the water, rising swiftly into the darkening sky before flying south as fast as they can. A storm is rolling in over the Keys, and for this plan to work, they need to intercept Godzilla and explain the situation before he gets too close. If this is going to work, they're going to need his help.

Hang on, Maddie, Vivienne thinks to herself, taking comfort from San’s reassuring presence beside her but unable to fully suppress the acid tinge of fear in her guts. Everything’s going to be okay. We promise.

Ooooh! And no worries about the time gap, writing ain't something you wanna rush; and the addition was well worth the wait!

Whatever plan's been cooked up, I still can't help having a feeling something's going to go wrong even with Godzilla's involvement; inevitably BioMaddie's going to change into Beast Mode somehow, and she needs Viv n' San to be there for her once she's regained consciousness (whenever that happens), so one can only hope the outer body doesn't cause trouble that could lead to any harm...

#shadowblade217 #biollante!maddie

10 notes · View notes

katana-the-autobot · 1 year

Text

THE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME

First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all had witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat. Long post!

MUN NAME: Kawa

AGE: 25+

CONTACT: Asks, IMs, Discord (given via IM)

CHARACTER(S): Katana (and Flicker on main blog @/flicker-bot)

CURRENT FANDOM(S): Transformers. (Known medias can be found in the mun section within Rules page - but other TF medias and crossovers work, too!)

FANDOM(S) YOU HAVE AN AU FOR: Apart from individual threads, there’s no set AUs at the moment.

MY LANGUAGE(S): English, Finnish (but rping only in English here)

THEMES I’M INTERESTED IN FOR RP: FANTASY / SCIENCE FICTION / HORROR / WESTERN / ROMANCE / THRILLER / MYSTERY / DYSTOPIA / ADVENTURE / MODERN / EROTIC(?) / CRIME / MYTHOLOGY / CLASSIC / HISTORY / RENAISSANCE / MEDIEVAL / ANCIENT / WAR / FAMILY / POLITICS / RELIGION / SCHOOL / ADULTHOOD / CHILDHOOD/ APOCALYPTIC / GODS / SPORT / MUSIC / SCIENCE / FIGHTS / ANGST / SMUT / DRAMA / ETC.

PREFERRED THREAD LENGTH: ONE-LINER / 1 PARA / 2 PARA / 3+ PARA / NOVELLA / ALL

ASKS CAN BE SENT BY: MUTUALS / NON-MUTUALS / PERSONALS / ANONS.

CAN ASKS BE CONTINUED?: YES / NO / OCCASIONALLY - only by Mutuals?: YES / NO

PREFERRED THREAD TYPE: CRACK / CASUAL / SERIOUS / DEEP AS HECK

IS REALISM / RESEARCH IMPORTANT FOR YOU IN CERTAIN THEMES?: YES / NO (These are alien robots we’re talking about so I think we can safely throw some of the realism out the window, but I tend to do plenty of research while rping topics that can be researched easily (e.g. what kind of injury character gets from X). However, I don’t expect the other side to do any research since rping is first and foremost for fun.)

ARE YOU ATM OPEN FOR NEW PLOTS?: YES / NO / DEPENDS

DO YOU HANDLE YOUR DRAFT / ASK - COUNT WELL?: YES / NO / SOMEWHAT (when I’m not sleep deprived or busy lol)

HOW LONG DO YOU USUALLY TAKE TO REPLY?: 24H / 1 WEEK / 2 WEEKS / 3+ WEEKS / MONTHS / YEARS (May vary based on how busy or tired I am, but usually I’m quick to respond)

I’M OKAY INTERACTING WITH: ORIGINAL CHARACTERS / A RELATIVE OF MY CHARACTER (AN OC) (if planned together) / DUPLICATES / CROSSOVERS / MULTI-MUSES / SELF-INSERTS / PEOPLE WITH NO AU VERSE FOR MY FANDOM / CANON-DIVERGENT PORTRAYALS / AU-VERSIONS

DO YOU POST MORE IC OR OOC?: IC / OOC

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WITH FOLLOWING OTHERS?: YES / NO / DEPENDS

BEST WAYS TO APPROACH YOU FOR RP/PLOTTING:

Plotting: IMs, Discord

RP: RP memes, asks, IMs

WHAT EXPECTATIONS DO YOU HOLD TOWARDS YOUR PLOTTING PARTNER?: I admit that I have much easier time interacting with characters that I already know in at least some level, which makes it easier for me to jump right into things with canon characters. So, while I do enjoy plotting no matter what character I’m going to interact with, it becomes especially important with OCs I don’t know that well yet. If there’s little to no information about your character, it’s even more important to me that you’re partaking in the plotting and voicing your opinions, explaining what you think would work best with your OC etc. It’s completely okay if your OC is not super fleshed out yet, but it can become a problem if I feel like I don’t have anything concrete to work with and am doing all the work coming up with a plot.

WHEN YOU NOTICE THE PLOTTING IS RATHER ONE-SIDED, WHAT DO YOU DO?: I understand if the other side is having trouble coming up with plot ideas, especially when we’re only starting, and since I’m often brimming with ideas, I’m happy to share them and help out with the plot! However, if this keeps going even after our characters have started to get familiar with each other, it can get really tiring and I may start to lose my motivation for our RP.

HOW DO YOU USUALLY PLOT WITH OTHERS, DO YOU GIVE INPUT OR LEAVE MOST WORK TOWARDS YOUR PARTNER?: I’d say it’s something from between. I try to come up with ideas (preferably multiple ones) and share them with the other side to see if anything piques their interest. If I’m having trouble coming up with anything, I try to at least offer what I think would work with my OC and see if it helps the other side to decide what we could try.

WHEN A PARTNER DROPS THE THREAD, DO YOU WISH TO KNOW?: YES / NO / DEPENDS - AND WHY?: If it’s a loose thread that doesn’t have much to do with the main plot, I understand if the other side simply forgets it, doesn’t feel it anymore etc and wants to drop it. However, if it’s the main thread, I’d like to hear what caused them to drop the thread and if there’s something I should do differently or something new they want to try instead. I won’t get mad about dropping threads so please don’t hesitate to reach out to me!

WHAT COULD POSSIBLY LEAD YOU TO DROP A THREAD?: If it’s a loose/unplanned thread and I’m not vibing it anymore, I may drop it.

WILL YOU TELL YOUR PARTNER?: YES / NO / DEPENDS. I try to let them know, especially if it’s the only thing we had going on and don’t have any other threads left. Sometimes I may be so overwhelmed I fail to inform the other side about dropping the thread and I apologize for that.

IS COMMUNICATION IN THE RPC IMPORTANT TO YOU? YES / NO. - AND WHY?: I’m not expecting us to communicate about every single thing, but I feel like there should be a possibility to reach out to the other side when needed. A lot of things can be solved by communication and I’d rather talk things out than be left or leave the other side in confusion.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH ABSOLUTE HONESTY, EVEN IF IT MAY MEANS HEARING SOMETHING NEGATIVE ABOUT YOU AND/OR PORTRAYAL?: Yes, as long as it comes from a place of wanting to help the other side to improve rather than using it as an excuse to spread hate. Anon hate is never a valid option.

DO YOU THINK YOU CAN HANDLE SUCH SITUATION IN A MATURE WAY? YES / NO

WHY DO YOU RP AGAIN, IS THERE A GOAL?: For fun!!!

WISHLIST, BE IT PLOTS OR SCENARIOS: Nothing in particular, or rather, this kind of depends on who I’m RPing with.

THEMES I WON’T EVER RP / EXPLORE: All-out smut, some really dark themes.

WHAT TYPE OF STARTERS DO YOU PREFER / DISLIKE, CAN’T WORK WITH?: I tend to be pretty flexible so nothing comes to mind right now!

WHAT TYPE OF CHARACTERS CATCH YOUR INTEREST THE MOST?: Almost any kind of character, as long as they’re responsive!

WHAT TYPE OF CHARACTERS CATCH YOUR INTEREST THE LEAST?: When the character is so cool/distant/badass/etc. that they offer nothing to work with and turn down any attempt to interact with them. That’s no fun in a long run.

WHAT ARE YOUR STRONG ASPECTS AS RP PARTNER?: I feel like I’m flexible which makes it easy to match the other side’s length/writing style/etc, and I always try to include something in my reply the other side can react to, which hopefully makes it easier to reply.

WHAT ARE YOUR WEAK ASPECTS AS RP PARTNER?: I’m sure it’s sometimes painfully apparent that English isn’t my first language ;;; There’s also been times when I’ve tried to describe things to the point of overexplaining, like include time and place and weather and absolutely everything (a relic of the time when I still RPd in text forums), but I’ve slowly unlearned the habit to write longer replies just because.

DO YOU RP SMUT?: YES / NO / DEPENDS (it can be hinted that some bedroom action has taken place, as long as we don’t actually RP it in detail)

DO YOU PREFER TO GO INTO DETAIL?: YES / NO / DEPENDS

ARE YOU OKAY WITH BLACK CURTAIN, FADE TO BLACK?: YES / NO.

WHEN DO YOU RP SMUT? MORE OUT OF FUN OR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT?

ANYTHING YOU WOULD NOT WANT TO RP THERE?

ARE SHIPS IMPORTANT TO YOU?: YES / NO / IT DEPENDS. If we’re talking about any kind of relationships, yes, they’re where my main motivation lies and character/relationship development is very important to me. However, it doesn’t have to necessarily be a romantic one (although I definitely want to have some romantic ships going on eventually)

WOULD YOU SAY YOUR BLOG IS SHIP-FOCUSED?: YES / NO / IT DEPENDS

DO YOU USE READ MORE?: YES (for non-RP stuff) / NO (for RP stuff - I’m trimming threads)

ARE YOU: MULTI-SHIP / SINGLE-SHIP / DUAL-SHIP — MULTIVERSE / SINGLEVERSE

WHAT DO YOU LOVE TO EXPLORE THE MOST IN YOUR SHIPS?: The dynamics and what characters bring out of each other!

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS?: YES / NO / DEPENDS. It’s difficult for me to jump straight into “already in relationship” stage, especially if I don’t know the other character that well. I need some time to feel our characters out and get a better sense of what their dynamic is like. However, it’s something we can plan in advance so it’s not an absolute ‘no’!

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

WHAT COULD POSSIBLY MAKE YOUR MUSE INTERESTING TOWARDS OTHERS, WHY SHOULD THEY RP WITH THIS PARTICULAR CHARACTER OF YOURS NOW, WHAT POSSIBLE PLOTS DO THEY OFFER?: Katana is a serious and dedicated femme, yet she’s open to teamwork and not so cold or proud that she’d push others away which hopefully makes it easier to interact with her! She’s gone through a lot, yet she’s also overcome stuff, and it allows her to relate to others who have experienced traumatic events without being overly angsty or pessimistic about life in general. She also has other sides to her, although it takes some effort to draw them out of her, so there’s hopefully a lot of room for character and relationship development.

WITH WHAT TYPE OF MUSES DO YOU USUALLY STRUGGLE TO RP WITH?: I don’t have a lot of experience about RPing with Katana yet so no opinions here.

WHAT DO THEY DESIRE, WHAT IS THEIR GOAL?: Katana thinks all is fine and dandy now, but she doesn’t realize that she’s not happy. She’s been to the Earth for a few years now, but she has not really made it her home or built her life there yet.

WHAT CATCHES THEIR INTEREST FIRST WHEN MEETING SOMEONE NEW?: Are they an Autobot or a Decepticon, or a neutral? Are they even Cybertronian? Are they dangerous? Are they in danger? Katana approaches new faces in a very practical and cautious manner until she’s found some answers.

WHAT DO THEY VALUE IN A PERSON?: Loyalty, bravery, honesty, being true to yourself.

WHAT THEMES DO THEY LIKE TALKING ABOUT?: While Katana doesn’t care to do small talk, she’ll gladly listen to whatever others want to talk about. She’s the type who may remain silent for hours unless someone addresses her. When she does initiate a conversation, it tends to be about something practical.

WHICH THEMES BORE THEM?: Small talk like chatting about weather.

DID THEY EVER GO THROUGH SOMETHING TRAUMATIC?: Yes.

WHAT COULD LEAD TO AN INSTANT KILL?: Katana has been on the brink of death several times, but she’s survived so far, partly because she’s survivor by nature and partly because she’s driven by her loyalty to Autobots. If she was to be expelled from Autobots, betrayed by them or something similar, she might not have the determination to keep going on.

IS THERE SOMEONE /-THING THEY HATE?: Katana has mixed feelings about bots who change sides, but she’s not sure if she necessarily hates them. Other than that, no.

IS YOUR MUSE EASY TO APPROACH?: YES (hopefully) / NO. BEST WAY TO APPROACH THEM?: Have something to do with them. When there’s some action they can both participate in, their interaction doesn’t rely completely on talking.

SOMETHING YOU MAY STILL WANT TO POINT OUT ABOUT YOUR MUSE?: Pet the cat :3

CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥

TAGGED: stole it uwu

TAGGING: anyone who wants to do it (although it is kind of lengthy)

#dash games #headcanon #i'm aware this is kind of long #but i felt like it could be helpful for me to do this #lots of information for new followers and covering some stuff that haven't been relevant with flicker yet

5 notes · View notes