#faceplanting into the garden like always

[nicollini]

Taking a break

Those two are still my comfort OTP and always be.

#plance #pidgance #vld fanart #flirtyrobot #faceplanting into the garden like always

[ya-zz]

oou, if ur down for it how about bitter ex!Ram who's realized Genji's trying to ask reader out :0 he still holds this bit of possessiveness towards reader and it's even worse because it's "his brother's pet human" - so like there's this undertone of Genji being a "replacement" in Ram's perspective. you can try to connect this to canon, but this is more of like an imagine, like 'if x and x did this, how would x react-'

also i don't mind if you decide not to write this :b i just like seeing characters i'm currently obssessed with in different situations LOL

happy holidays! (if u celebrate) and a happy rest of your december!

May have went down a little more... possessive route for this...

Ramattra x Reader (gen)

Word count: 1071

The omnic had been watching for awhile. Too long, almost. He watched you from the sidelines, the way you grew, the way you healed past the relationship he once had with you. It pained him at how well you moved on in the last few months.

When a certain cyborg came along and started flirting with you, however, something began to grow within Ramattra’s circuits. Something dark, hateful… spiteful.

Ramattra still wants you, that he cannot deny no mater how many times he tries to think otherwise. He needs you by his side. You were the only person who was capable of loving him and he just had to fuck things up. 

Back then, he wanted you all to himself. Who wouldn’t? You were the best thing that had ever happened to him and to everyone. You made hearts flutter and smiles warmer. Ramattra, dare he say, was obsessed with you. 

He still is. 

His systems would go back to the nights he shared with you, hands roaming bodies, static moans and cursed whimpers all but filled his receptors. Many nights he would sit and watch everything like it was a movie until it went back to the fateful day you had packed your belongings and left him. 

You wanted no part of his liberation. Despite trying so hard to convince him that there were thousands, if not millions of humans out there who cared for and adored omnics, Ramattra wasn’t convinced and so went ahead with his war.

Years had passed since then and here he was, sitting down in the garden meditating alongside Zenyatta whilst you and Genji were training across the field. 

“Does he always watch over you?” The ninja asks you, peering over to the omnics sitting away from them. 

“No. I think Zen asked him to join him on some meditative stuff.” You shrug. 

“I mean- he’s watching you.” Genji gets a little closer, voice getting quieter. 

“You can tell behind the faceplate?” 

Genji nods. “I picked a few things up from Master Zenyatta.” He picks up on how Ramattra’s hands clench on his knees and he knows exactly what’s going on. 

“Huh.” You look over at the omnics before shrugging the thought off. “He can watch all he wants, I don’t care.” 

The cyborg chuckles, moving his focus back onto you. 

Ramattra couldn’t pick out the conversation as the wind rustled within his receptors, only seeing you and Genji turn to look at him, lips moving but muffled voices. He knew that you were talking about him though, and that only made the anger rise within his circuitry. 

…

…

The larger omnic had picked up on several mannerisms with the ninja. The way his face softened when he was with you, the ghost touches, the way he laughed when you told a joke. Ramattra was slowly but surely figuring it out that Genji wanted you. 

Whether or not it was to spite him, he didn’t care. The fact that Zenyatta’s pet human was flirting with you was fuelling this hatred inside of him. 

He found you wandering the halls and stopped you. 

“I see that ninja has taking a liking to you.” He states. 

“That is none of your business.” You spit back, clearly frustrated at the sudden interaction. 

“He is not good for you.” Ramattra crosses his arms over his chest, his tall stature looming over you in an almost hostile way.

“Oh, like you’re any better?” You stand your ground. “At least he didn’t start a fucking war.” 

He vocaliser clicks. “I had my reasoning. You did not listen to me.” 

“I listened. How could I not when that’s all you were going on about for months!” Anger began rising within you. “That was all you focussed on.” 

“I needed you.” 

“No. No you fucking didn’t.” You speak through gritted teeth. “All you wanted-”

“What I wanted was peace for us omnics.”

“By brainwashing them?” You cock your head to the side. “I may not be the fucking brightest around here but I do know that the way you used those poor omnics was not right.” 

Ramattra keeps his optics on you. 

“You used your own people!” Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “I ended it with you because I couldn’t stand the way you were thinking. You were too wrapped up in that.. that… liberation of yours that you never had any time for me!” 

Something inside of Ramattra begins to hurt. 

“So help me god, if you get in the way of anything, of my happiness, I will fucking end you myself.” The tears finally spill as you storm past the omnic who stands there almost dumbfounded.

Never once had you raised your voice at him, let alone in the hostile tone just seconds before. Ramattra had to take a moment to process your words, to process what you just threatened to him. 

He turns around but by that point, you had long left him. 

…

…

The next time you saw Ramattra, he had pinned the ninja against the wall by his throat. His tone was angry, no, he was seething with rage as he threatened to end Genji’s life. 

You didn’t hear how it started, but you certainly ended it by pulling Ramattra away from the cyborg who then fell to the ground gasping for air. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” You shout, coming between the two men and staring the omnic down.

“Putting that ninja in its place.” Ramattra scoffs before turning and walking away from the scene. 

“Are you okay, Genji?” You ask, kneeling down and putting a hand on his shoulder. 

“Yeah.” He coughs. “Didn’t think he’d come for me.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He still wants you.” Genji looks up at you. 

“I know, but that does not give him the right to attack you like that.” 

You help the cyborg up, helping him access the damage before escorting him to the med-bay.

Meanwhile, Ramattra was sitting in his room feeling rather content with himself. The jealousy was all but rising within him the more he knew you were hanging around with his brother’s pet human. He still wants you, he needs you. 

The omnic could only sit back and wait as his plan starts falling into place. He will get you back by any means necessary and if that means turning Genji on you, then he will do just that.

#overwatch #ramattra #ramattra x reader #genji shimada #genji x reader #overwatch 2 #overwatch fanfiction #reader insert #yazzfics

[youwouldntlietopapa]

Headcanons - High Papas

Primo:

Chances are you won’t be able to tell. Mostly because he’s always a little high and because he’s got a tolerance that would make Elvis look like a lightweight.

Mostly just chills out. It’s his version of an evening nightcap.

Tends to have a few go-to snacks and tv shows that don’t mess with his vibe.

He’s a BIG fan of the Shopping Channel. Something about the absurdity of it all along with the very low stakes watching experience make it just the right thing to turn your brain off to.

He has never actually bought anything from them, this is pure entertainment value.

If you do get chatting with him though, he will talk at length about the garden and his greenhouse, nature, how things are all connected, and much deeper subjects that he’s so passionate about and speaks about with such reverence, it’s like the most beautiful sermon you’ve ever heard and it’s impossible to do anything but simply listen.

Secondo:

He tends to stay pretty quiet for the first while.

Hyper aware that he’s not fully in control, he will usually overcompensate and acting weirder than if he just relaxed.

But as soon as he sees or hears anything that hits him just right, he dissolves into the most out of character giggles. It is slightly terrifying if you’re not prepared for it.

He will absolutely giggle himself to tears. Once he watched Terzo trip on the rug and faceplant directly into Copia’s lap. He laughed so hard, he pulled a muscle.

If you put any popcorn near him, he will eat all of it. He can’t help it. No one can even say for certain if he’s fully aware that he’s eaten that much.

Definitely falls asleep before everyone else.

Terzo:

He gets very… tactile. Needs to touch everything.

There have definitely been entire evenings spent petting a specific fabric just because of how it feels.

Somehow less clumsy that usual. No one really understands how.

This man will eat an entire bag of gummy bears if you don't watch him and he will have regrets in the morning. iykyk

Also gets VERY affectionate. More than usual. Yes, that’s possible.

He is all hands with his partner. Touching them is imperative. So clingy.

Cannot stop professing his love and complimenting and praising.

He might* cry.

Copia:

Where Terzo must touch, Copia must be touched.

He desperately needs to be held and cuddled, to have his back rubbed, and his scalp scratched.

Scalp scratches are a must. He will make the most obscene noises.

Huge golden retriever energy.

Grilled cheese. He needs a grilled cheese. And some ice cream. I’m not saying they’re going to be eaten together but I’m not not saying that either.

He will absolutely drag his partner off to bed at the first opportunity. He needs to be touched in spicy ways too. And he is very eager to please.

Not that he's ever really quiet, he is definitely louder than usual. And his dirty talk game is shocking.

*will

#ghost headcanons #all the papas

[ikkosu]

PET-ABLE HIJINKS

summary : pharma scenarios if you adopted a pet.

warnings : domestic fluff + a bit of implied stuff (ehe ‘stuff’ amirite). part of MDM (my darling medic verse)

PHARMA

With Pharma, nothing is ever balanced. He’s an affectionate lover, much too affectionate you’d have to dart around the corner when he’s in view. If you’re too late Ambulon would have to pry you off his digits, dragging you back to the safe confines of your quarters and letting the poor human rest.

Psh, like the door is gonna stop him. He’s been through much worse during the war a mere block of wood is a minuscule minority. Seconds later, he ploughs through the door and you stare at the ceiling in defeat as he pounces on you.

For a well-versed doctor who hates physical touch with Organics, as he always preaches to be so, he’s got no sense of personal space whatsoever. So, you’re in your room one day, broiling up mischiefs and antics to get his smug face back and a little ding of eureka shrouds your waking thoughts. That’s it! A pet! You’re going to buy a pet.

And you’re going to make it count.

You wait for another week before deciding on what you’ll get. If you’re going to have a little ball of mischief walking around, it has to be a cretin that acts just like Pharma. And for the past few days you’ve been analyzing him with utmost scrutiny, you’ve decided you’ll get a cat.

Pharma gets a little uneasy while making breakfast. He notices you’re a lot more quiet these days, staring holes into his back whenever you could. His mind is stumped with prior memories of yesterdays and many days before. Did he do something wrong? Was he too much for you to handle? No, no. It’s just paranoia. He’s getting too worked up over this. He might not show it but if you’re planning to cut ties with him he’ll have to strap you down to the counter.

And you’re going to stay.

When you did get a pet without his knowledge, the little gremlin is the spitting furball of feline, cat Pharma.

Tabby was the name. A white Siberian floof of white fur. She’s a sassy, fiery little thing who loves to be showered with affection when she wants to have it. Nothing more, nothing less. The first time they both meet, he’s back from work and he’s appalled at the sight of you cooing at the thing like it’s some child. Of course he’s pissed. His darling pet, to ignore Pharma of all people and reduce your affections to that organic, feline, brat of a cat? Not under his watch.

First, it’s a battle between the two beings on who's able to take up much of your personal space, now it’s a battle on who’s able to piss off who more.

And neither gets the advantage.

In the early mornings, as you flop over to cuddle your Jet lover, you’re surprised to see he’s busy wrangling off Tabby who’s insist his faceplate was a better cushion than the bed. Sometimes, you’d walk into them punted into a staring contest : the jet’s wings flared up much the same as Tabby arching her back and sneering at Pharma.

Other times, in the garden, while you’re watering the flowers, Tabby would furl lazily on the plastic chair, grooming her paws and fur. The peaceful slumber of the evening air is shattered when Pharma comes in and dumps a whole bucket of ice cold water on the cat, turning on his heel later then heading back inside without another word.

Safe to say, the scratches the next morning on his newly added paint isn’t a coincidence. Hah! Like, that’ll do it. He’d get her back by pushing a chair against the trapdoor so she’ll won’t be able to come in after her nightly walks outside.

However, Tabby does have one advantage that pisses him off more than her tearing up his datapad and that’s — cockblocking.

You wake up with a gentle kiss on your neck, his cold metal hands — hard yet pliable — grasps your stomach and pulls you against his chassis. Sunlight seeps through the blinds, flaring his armor stark white as he peppers kisses down your shoulder and nape.

A lazy smile tugs your cheeks and you lean into his touch. He palms your thighs, then over to your ass, pinching it a little before tugging down your shorts and hiking the fabric aside. You sigh and brace, hearing the familiar hiss of his panel retracting when—

Something jumps on the bed. Before Pharma could react Tabby flicks her tail at his face and he edges the bed, stumbling to the ground, pulling the blankets along his tumble. That sudden thump sits you up with a startled blink of two, three times of your eyelids. Andrenaline wrangles the sleeoiness away. Tabby, however, doesn’t seem to mind the seething scrap of metal on the floorboard and licks your face affectionsly, opting to curl around your neck.

“That cat is atrocious.” He grumbles as he lifts you off and away from the pawing mewls of the cat.

“Put me down, I want to see my baby!’

“Absolutely not. You’re coming to bed.”

“But this—“

“Our other bed. The guest room bed,” He grits and hauls you over his shoulder. “One of these days, my dear I’ll lock that wretched thing outside the lawn and let it succumb to the unethical weather Earth has in store it. What were you thinking when you nabbed this feline cretin? Consider yourself lucky I have the patience to deal with such incessant tomfoolery.”

A giggle bubbles from your throat. At least, he’s got the taste of his own medicine.

#idw pharma #pharma #pharma x reader #transformers idw #maccaddams #ikkosuwrites #transformers x reader #idw pharma x reader #valveplug

[diverbots]

bobdatta thoughts (you know who i am): i see mondatta as someone who wants to make sure his lover is happy and he would bend over backwards for them (of course he does this to his brothers too. he puts their needs before his). i want bob to also dote on mondatta like this too, put his needs (and ashe's) before his own. bob is always so careful with mondatta, holding him and making sure he's okay. god, i just need them to be in love. i just need them to express their love through actions.

YEAAA I want to see Bob be gentle with Mondatta as they're gardening or just sight-seeing!! As well as vice versa! And they obviously don't have to speak to each other at all, kind gestures are enough between them and there may be occasional questions from Mondatta but the silence is comfortable enough for them (or they speak to each other on a different frequency!) Thinking of scenarios where both of them care for the other in their own way (either Mondatta cleaning Bob's faceplate or smth, and Bob being worried and ensuring that Mondatta wasn't damaged from a very small fall, LOL) They're so cute.. 😭

#text #ask

[luckyshotwrites]

Ch. 68 // The Suntouched // Day xxx

Contents (Warnings): What is a Suntouched Fae? (Angst, vore mention, character and monster info as always). Read full chapter on - A03

Wordcount: 2,800 + (SORRY ABOUT THE WAIT GOT A LOT SMOOVIN' RIGHT NOW!)

Song I listened to on repeat for this chapter: Ship in a bottle - Fin [Steffan Argus]

Side note: This will contain experimental writing; first person (Lynette's view) will be implemented alongside third person for the two other essential characters, (mostly) Alexander and (occasionally) Drake. All their text will be italicized for those third-person moments, with the characters' names in Bold at the start and their thoughts in Bold. There may be other characters I write for using this.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

(Diomwava. 31st)

Claudia

Fae's are born at night. They are collected from the red soil to which the mother gives their body. It's broken when they are buried, split into pieces, and reshaped within the world with their magic, hoping to create at least one or two worthy heirs to their mother's sacrifice. 

Afterward, a caretaker is left to collect, train and raise those younglings on the morals and ways of the coven. However...if a fae is born during the time of the fairies, the day, they are suntouched. The coven marks those newborns as accursed, disgusting omens. They are immediately buried away from the red cave garden and sealed into the earth to become fauna. A waste of their mothers' efforts.

Though, the coven kept one alive. The leader of the collection, a group of individuals that searched the forest and beyond, had given up her body. 

When the mother gave up their body like this, some of their memories and techniques were passed on, so they couldn't afford to lose this child. Yet, the accused suntouched perturbed them all. 

But, they still named the youngling. Urtsi, meaning useless or lame.

Her watcher and mother's previous partner, Theieo. He kept her away from the rest of the other younglings and was forced to teach her anything he knew out of the sight of the others. She'd only be free to roam when sent on a collection outside the coven.  

"Another journey?" His lips quivered into a scowl. The dark gray cover over his face stared up toward the tallest building, marble white and columned at every thirty feet tall ring/level. The coven leaders sat atop the red garden at least 100 feet up. 

"They can't keep sending you out." Theieo hissed in their native tongue.

His eyes, hidden behind the "visor," coasted over her body. Urtsi was missing one of her spare limbs, only wielding three on her back, and her once beautiful curled horns were stripped from her head. Her hair had grown over to hide the cracked scars.

Urtsi's face stared up at him. "I must do it. They said so."

They wanted her dead. They both knew that. Theieo didn't want her to stay, but he couldn't leave and assumed she'd be too young to venture alone.

He sat with her under two large, crumbling pillars on flat bundles of plush leaves. "I know, Urtsi, you always do so well." His smiled through his sour voice.

She curled up in his arms, the Suntouched Fae. Even after spending time with her, it scared him to touch her. His instilled instincts told him to squeeze the life out of Urtsi to protect himself and the coven. 

He shut his eyes, swallowing the urge. He held the quiet child until she got ready for her journey.

Theieo brushed his hair back and put his two main hands out to her. He clamped his hands over hers and lifted them to her face height.

"Let Veina watch you," he brought them back down, "Esidos protect you," then he swung them very high up, nearly pulling her off the ground, "and if you don't make it," he brought her hands to his face. He touched them to the crack of his mouth under the faceplate. "know that I love you." 

Urtsi had received his blessing. She always did before she left. He let her hands go, and Urtsi kept them pressed flatly together, then bowed forward. "Returned."

...

Every tree was well over one hundred feet. It made Urtsi feel so small. She was still growing, but Fae only got to about fifteen to eighteen feet at most. These weren't even some of the tallest trees; some were nearly three hundred feet tall. 

There weren't any low-hanging branches with them either, just burrows for animals or the species Urtsi was after. 

"Escora's (fairies)?" Urtsi reminded herself.

Though Fae's ate Escora's, they generally stayed away from colonies. The Elder Escora's were no joke. When they reached a certain age, they became giant creatures, hideously so, but protectors of the other younger Escora nonetheless. 

Then as a giant shadow cast over her, something blocked the sun. Her visored face looked up and saw the shimmering midnight scales of the giant flying monster. A drakin. Urtsi wondered how free it must have felt to fly up so high. She couldn't pull her eyes away, and the farther it got, its scales seemed to change to red. Until she no longer saw it. Urtsi's head didn't drop for a while. 

Why would they send me out after an Escora or two? Wouldn't they come themselves? She finally questioned. Her head dropped, and she continued her search. They would never trust her to bring back something most Fae found precious. You eat an Escora, and you get a wish. The thoughts swirled in her head. What would I wish for? Urtsi asked herself. She couldn't ask for anything. It wasn't her right. 

She searched for several more hours; the taps of her thin, agile feet stopped on the dirt floor. She stopped before the dead beast at least twice her size, as she was only ten feet tall. She approached the body and gave it a light kick for good measure. 

It was a fuzzy one, quite big and with needs embedded between its fur. Urtsi could feel the magic of the one who slayed it, a signature left by an a-Escora. She searched the area, knowing this might mean a colony was nearby. Her mission for the coven leaders would be a success, and she didn't lose anything this time, not a back arm. She didn't want to lose another as she was down to three. 

Her antenna twitched, thinking they caught something again. Though it was really the light of the sun dwindling. Escora would never stay out at night; it was risky for them as more dangerous creatures were nocturnal. 

The brown-haired Suntouched Youngling, Urtsi, crawled under an abandoned burrow. Her pale, bleached pink skin shined too brightly at night. It'd attract the creatures; that's what the coven told her.

She huddled up. Though she was a child, mentally that of a twelve-year-old, she held not an ounce of anger toward her coven like Theieo did. She knew she was a crutch on Theieo; they reminded her of that every day. 

She almost considered this to be the time she'd run away. Not out of fear or sadness but simply to preserve herself. 

Urtsi had watched repeatedly, Suntouched Fae like her, babies, reburied after they scrambled out, sealed away to die in blood-stained soil, and bound to remain still by their name. 

Her thoughts went quiet. She heard shuffling. Things were moving by her, but she could not see them. 

She ignored it and remained still. 

Urtsi listened. It sounded close, and she swore she saw a bit of dirt. 

And soon, a few things entered her site; they were quick. They grabbed her body firmly and yanked her from the tree. She recognized them as arms from her own people. 

She readied to protect herself.

"URTSI." 

Her body stopped, and the hands got her without a fight. 

Fae weren't allowed to use each other's names. They held power behind them. If a being more powerful than the Fae said it, they would leave them helpless. 

Urtsi's body hung limp, and she witnessed the few coven leaders that sent her. She did not speak to them for prolonged periods, she only saw them when they had a request, and that was it. 

Their face plates no longer covered their faces; they had removed them for the night. The plate can only be first released by the one who lifted them from the soil. They must allow you to see clearly; after their hands print over the Fae, they can forever remove it yourself. 

Their eyes were entirely colored, with little white in sight. The color of their hue said what they were, and the rarest had two, such as the leader that held Urtsi. 

They didn't say a word to her, nor could Urtsi say a word to them. The one that held her with one eye of crimson red and forest green had not an ounce of pity behind them. 

The other two, with this one, had the pit behind her ready. 

A hole. Urtsi's body trembled, and they need not call her name again. Urtsi couldn't even beg, only desperate, faintly whimpering with rapid breaths.  

And they dropped her down the deep hole. It allowed her to hazily look up, seeing the figures far above her. She could hear their chants. 

"Return to the soil, accept your impurity, and beg for forgiveness while washed with blood." 

And the soil piles at the edges began to move over her, dropping onto her body. Each pile felt heavier and heavier; an indescribable weight befell her.

As it filled, Urtsi felt a chance arise. Only babies received this treatment, never someone as old as her. She placed a cloak over herself to take away the immense strain. 

It wouldn't matter, as Urtsi could not move or see; she was trapped, unable to escape as she knew they had dropped their blood onto the soil above. Because she heard the snake of roots. The slow slink through the dirt before it crashed into her cloak. It came at her from all sides, trying to crush it and absorb her body. 

Urtsi gasped, trying to hold out against it in the darkness. Unable to see, only felt the bends to her cloak. The thorns await to prick past her skin. She refused to accept this fate; she wouldn't even though Urtsi knew she deserved it.

...

Had it been an hour? Her barrier weakened so severely that her legs had partially succumbed to some of the thorns. They were taking every bit of her energy. 

She knew she wouldn't last much longer; she felt her breath slowly siphoned, the dirt barely held back by her barrier, much like the squeezing thorns.

Then the roots exploded in a burst of screeching, colorful fire. The dirt felt lifted enough from Urtsi so she could safely break her own barrier. The three hands at her back, desperately clawing away, and the hands at her front. 

The moonlight shined from above as she got to the edges and yanked her body up, weakly, trying to heal her twitching legs.  

She didn't care who saved her. Her biggest concern was getting far away from the hole. 

She couldn't see anyone nearby. Who saved me? She asked. She knew she wasn't her own guardian.

Then she felt the signature, the same as before, and though blurry, she could make out through the hazy visor a flutter of tiny wings.

"Escora!" 

She shouted, and it stopped. They twisted in their flight, spun backward, and perched upon a tiny burrow in a tree higher than Urtsi.

"Quiet, young Fae. You shouldn't call my species out so loudly." They warned, sending their voice into Urtsi's head. Urtsi could barely make them out, except for the green at, which seemed to be their hair, outfit, and eyes.

Urtsi stared up, "was it you who helped me?"

The Escora didn't answer.

Urtsi repeated it.

The little Escora spoke, "Yes. Out of pity."

The fact that it was pity didn't bother Urtsi. She curiously turned her head, "You have pity for Fae? We eat your species."

"I'm aware of the actions your kind take towards us." The Escora replied flatly. "There was a possibility that you would attack me, not that I don't think I can best you."

Urtsi said, "I'm quite gifted for my age."

"As am I," she retorted. Her judgmental hue scoured the dirtied Fae. Besides the bleached color, Urtsi's body looked mangled.

"You're tiny," Urtsi said to the ten-inch tall Escora.

She sighed and gestured to Urtsi, "Clean yourself, little fae."

Urtsi glanced down at herself. It was nothing new, then back to the soil. 

No one climbs out when they are made to return to the soil. You accept it. Urtsi fought the idea. She didn't want that.

"Don't you dare, Suntouched." The Escora's voice echoed into Urtsi's head.

"The coven leaders did it; I can't-"

"If you save a fae, that fae owes you a favor, correct?" 

This made more sense to Urtsi. She had been warned by Theieo about those that wait for a chance to help a fae. 

"Yes," Urtsi said.

"Live."

The Escora left the hole in the honeyed tree.  

Urtsi waited for more with the Escora's request, but that was it. "What do you mean?"

"I request that you continue to live." The Escora said, "and that you don't waste this second chance I gave you." Urtsi watched her small arm point to the left, "The path to Oria, a large city, is easy to find with the illuminated strobes."

"Is that really what you want of me?" Urtsi asked.

"That's what I want." There wasn't a moment of hesitation in their voice. 

Urtsi put her hands out, then looped her thumbs together. Her palms faced her. She then curled her hands into fists while keeping the thumbs remained looped. She pressed it back into her chest. "Then I will live."

It made no sense to Urtsi, an Escora, helping her and sending her off without a proper favor. They gained nothing from letting Urtsi go. After her promise, the Escora left into the night. 

I think Theieo can finally be at peace. Urtsi thought to herself. It wasn't that she was ignorant. She understood the tight clutch from Theieo and his lust to kill. She still cared for him and would remember his blessing. Though, she knew she would never see him again.

...

On the third day, Urtsi tried to do what she saw others do go into a building and get food. They told her she needed coins to purchase things. She was willing to trade what she collected, little trinkets and small critters, but they did not accept it. 

On the fourth day, she tried to ask for coins, got a few, and brought snacks. She ate them ravenously in her corner, under a small tent she made of leaves woven with one another. 

A voice pulled her attention. She stuffed what she could in her mouth to ensure it was hers to enjoy.  

"Anubis, look at that thing!"

Urtsi froze, meeting eye-to-eye with the lad who crouched to stare into her hidey-hole. His hue was bright orange, swirly, as they observed Claudia. A trait she recognized amongst Magus's that came back to life after dying. She only knew this because she stumbled upon what she believed to be a corpse before. She saw the long stitch of tattoo trailing down the front of his neck. 

The other male accompanying him kept a distance. He didn't fully turn his body. His hazardous yellow eyes seized her. They widened with surprise, and a smile followed. 

"You're a very bright Fae," Anubis remarked. A heavy yet smooth tone, one at which, Urtsi understood. He knew "whisper." 

The swirly one that Urtsi didn't understand spoke to Anubis. "They don't speak simple?"

Anubis nodded and continued, "You should be with your coven; where are they?"

Urtsi looked over the being. The amount of magic tied to Anubis frightened her. 

"I'm a part of no coven," Urtsi replied timidly.

Anubis grinned, then glanced back at who Urtsi assumed was a mate or fellow member of something, as why else would they be with one another.

Anubis moved closer to her hut, "So you've got no home, no income, and can't speak the native tongue?" He asked. 

Urtsi agreed.

He turned back to the other male and flipped his head up. The excitable one popped up and dug into his pocket. 

"He wants to play a game with you, fae. A coin flip." Anubis gestured for the pumpkin orange-eyed male to show her the coin. He did so happily and shook his light, fluffy pink hair afterward.

"The side with the sky beast is Ray's," Anubis said as the zombified Magus showed one that looked like a crow with several eyes, "the side with the horned one is soil." It was a horse-like creature with several horns on its head.

"He'll flip the coin, catch it and put it on the back of his hand. You call what you think it is; if you are right, you win; if you are wrong, we win."

"What do you desire if you win?"

"Kalin thinks it'll be best if you join the family." Anubis eyed the male with the coin and gave him the nod to flip it. Anubis continued, and Urtsi watched the sly curl at his mouth, "And if you win, Kalin said he'd give you his right eye."

It flipped in the air for a few moments before landing on the back of his hand.

"Rays or Soil, little fae?" Anubis asked. 

Kalin waited, staring up at her too. 

Urtsi, for a moment, took them both in through the hazy visor. They were the first she had spoken to besides the store clerks, both seemingly different than her people. If she refused, she would gain nothing. 

"Rays."

...

Hey, you, thank you so much for reading. It means a lot that I put out a story that people can enjoy! So, I hope you continue to enjoy it as WE have a LOT more to go! YOU BETTER KEEP PROSPERING! (Nonnegotiable).

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Catch up, see some maps/art, or check the latest release dates down below  ↓ ↓ ↓ 

What I’d do for a Livable Income (Synopsis/Chapter - List)

#widfali #vore writing #vore story #v/ore #v.0re #v/0re #v.ore

[carpisuns]

chapters: 16/21

Summary: Adrien’s favorite color used to be orange. Until Marinette.

An Adrinette fic with short, drabble-y chapters all involving the color pink

previous chapter

16. lock

He turns it over in his hands, bright pink against his palm.

It doesn’t look like much. Just a small metal lock, heart shaped—like something you’d find on a collège girl’s secret diary. Chloé would probably call it “tacky, utterly tacky” and criticize the cheap metal and lack of diamonds.

It is kind of tacky, he supposes, but Marinette is not like Chloé, and he knows this will be the perfect one-month anniversary gift.

“Ready?”

His head snaps up, and he slips the lock back into his jacket pocket. “Um, yeah. You?”

“Yep.” Marinette grins and bounds down the stairs from her bedroom. Adrien moves into position so he can catch her when she inevitably trips, which she does, collapsing into his arms with a shriek.

“You’re a safety hazard, you know that?” he teases.

She lets out a breathless laugh. “Yeah. I know.”

He helps her put on her pink raincoat, and then she grabs a black umbrella from the closet.

“You still have that?” he asks.

“Of course.” She smiles, looping her arm through his. “Hey, look—we match!”

She nods at the lucky charm tied around his wrist like a bracelet. Bright beads poke out from beneath the sleeve of her raincoat. He remembers how he selected each one with care, desperate to make a gift that made her feel as special as she always made him feel.

He smiles back. “Maybe we’ve got enough luck to keep you from faceplanting in a puddle.”

She laughs, nudging him in the hip. “Shut up.”

The Paris streets are quieter than he expected. The rain has probably driven people inside, but Adrien has always liked rainy days. He and Mom used to take walks in the garden when it rained, sharing jokes and whispers under this very umbrella. And now he shares it with Marinette, warm against his side while the air around them chills.

They stop at a cafe to split a sandwich (no tomatoes—Marinette doesn’t like them), and then they wander up the streets until they eventually end up on the Pont des Arts. She pauses to gaze out at the water. It’s the same spot where they watched the sun set weeks ago while he let a perfect moment pass them by. He won’t let it happen again.

Rain drums on the umbrella. His fingers close around the lock inside his pocket. “Marinette,” he breathes.

“Hmm?”

He brings his fist out of his jacket and uncurls his fingers. She stares down at the lock in his hand. Suddenly it seems like such a silly gift. It’s nothing like the ones she’s given him so far—all thoughtful and handmade and brimming with care. He didn’t even wrap it.

Despite the rain, his neck feels hot under his collar. “Um, I know it’s not much, but …”

She takes the lock, running her thumb over their engraved initials: A + M.

“It’s perfect,” she whispers. Then she looks up, eyes bright, and his breath catches in his throat.

“Care to do the honors?” He offers her the key. She opens the lock and then hooks it through the link of a chain, locking it in place. Together, they toss the key into the Seine.

“There. No takebacks,” she says with a grin.

Normally, he would tease her back, crack a joke, but what he feels for Marinette right now—what he always feels for her—is not a joke. His heart hammers and his hands feel sticky and the words sit heavy on his tongue.

Why is it so much harder to say now? It was always so easy with Ladybug. But now, with Marinette’s fingers reaching for his, he’s so afraid to say the wrong thing. He’s so afraid to lose her.

“I—I love you!” he blurts. “I mean, I … I’m in love with you. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I’m so h-hopelessly in love with you.”

Her hand goes still. She blinks up him, eyes wide and brilliant blue.

“Adrien.” She lifts her hand. Her palm is cool against his burning cheek. “You don’t have to be scared. I love you too. I always have.”

Then she brings her lips to his, and he feels a rush of pink run through him, like Ladybug’s cure, warming him down to his toes. He wears his charm on his wrist and his heart on his sleeve and he kisses her under the umbrella where they first fell in love.

As they walk away, hand in hand, he can’t stop himself from glancing back. Their lock isn’t hard to spot against the dull golds and grays, and somehow it makes him feel better to know that it stands out so boldly, locked securely to the bridge.

Then his eyes fall to the water. He thinks of the key, sunk to the bottom, lost to the depths, swallowed like a secret underneath the riverbed.

He has a secret too, locked inside his chest. Something no one can know. Not even Marinette.

She squeezes his hand, and his ring feels cold on his finger.

next chapter

#*old lady from titanic voice* it's been 84 years... #anyway no i didnt forget about this fic #yes i feel bad for abandoning it for 3 months #let's not talk about that #aljsdflkj #adrinette #adrienette #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #my fics #mine #ml fics

[captain--comet]

[ID: Traditional sketch of a fan Eclipse design, for a Sun and Moon Show AU. His faceplate has a few cracks in it, a small one on the top of the crescent, and a few spilling out from behind a Columbine flower that covers his left eye (the one not on the crescent.) His visible eye seems unbothered, if just slightly upset as appeared by his slight frown. Three of his bigger rays have been replaced with large Tiger Lily petals, each curling upwards. One of his remaining artificial rays is chipped at the end. His body has some cracks as well, the only visible ones being on his chest and trailing across one of his arms. Hyacinths and leaves grow out of his stomach hatch. His arms are crossed. Adorning his hips is a skirt-like article of fabric, parallel with two points on each side. Across his shoulders and trailing down to his feet is a cape/blanket of moss. On either side of his head is some text, some of it cut off. In full, it reads 'Arc 1: Weeding Problem', 'Arc 2: Wilting Petals', 'Arc 3: Flourishing Garden', and 'SAMS: Overgrown AU' END ID] Boom!!! It's been in my head for a while, and I drew a design for this Eclipse before, but I'm finally deciding to share him!! This design is for a Sun and Moon Show AU I'm calling 'Overgrown', which I'm sure you can guess why!! The whole premise is that Eclipse actually did end up in a forest somewhere, heavily broken and damaged. But only this time, before being cast away he used the Star to fulfill one wish- to keep him alive and safe! ... Well, the Star did do what he asked, but it sure went in a weird roundabout way for it. I'm planning on making the story into a fic, but I've long since realized I have... Commitment and motivation issues concerning multi-chapter fics. So! To remedy this, I'll instead (hopefully) do it in 'one-shots', and put it all into one series. That way if I do lose motivation, at least to me I won't feel like I'm disappointing anyone or myself. I may redo him digitally sometime, but I've always felt that my traditional sketches are always better, in my opinion, than the digital outline. Regardless, I hope some people can enjoy his design!! (And if you keep seeing my style change constantly from day to day or even hour to hour: no you didn't /j /lh)

#Comet's Doodles #fnaf #fnaf eclipse #sams eclipse #sams au

[mocchimi]

Happy new year everyone ☆(•^-^•)☆

What better way to start the new year, than with a little Wingrod thingie. I wrote this as a part of the fanfiction I'm currently writing, but I think we need more Wingrod, so I'll just post it.

I am kind of hesitant because I'm not sure if I got the characters right, I hope so, if not I'm sorry.

Anyways moving on, the beautiful ship was introduced to me by @avoidghost so yeah, have more of it because it's great alright.

A warning aswell, I don't understand how cybertronian time works, it's different in every fanfiction I read and there are so many different ways that I found on the internet so I'm ignoring it for now and use earth time.

Enjoy reading this little thing :D

---------------------------------------------------

Candlelight looked incredible reflecting off of Wing’s plating.The light flickered across his faceplate, giving it a soft glow. He looked beautiful and Hot Rod really tried his best not to stare. Wing hadn’t noticed him just yet and instead looked at a crystal flower in his hands.

The light caught in it’s petals and broke into a thousand colors, dancing across Wing’s white plating. His golden optics were dimmed, making him seem relaxed. A small smile danced across the flyer’s lips, softening his faceplate even more.

Hot Rod wasn’t sure why exactly he was even here. Wing had asked for him, true, but he just didn’t get why. They had made some progress in the last few weeks, not something the speedster would call a success though. He didn’t ignore his friends and their tries to help him any longer, but really opening up and returning to his carefree attitude got harder and harder. Wing had opened a dam with his words and now he could no longer close it.

“I don’t think you can return to being ‘The good old Hot Rod’ because that mech is no longer you. He died that day you tried to save your brother and now you don’t know who you are yourself.” Hot Rod looked at the flyer, shock evident on his faceplate. "What?" He got out, his voice cracking. Wing looked at him with sad optics. "Hot Rod, you're lying to yourself and it's starting to hurt you. Let me help, I cannot bear to watch you destroy yourself." A gentle embrace followed the words, as Hot Rod felt tears dripping from his optics. He buried his face in Wings neck and clung to him as ugly sobs wrecked his frame.

The words still echoed in his head. He hated that Wing had been right. For all his talk and attitude, Hot Rod did not know who he really was. Finding that was harder than he imagined, and there had been more than one occasion where he just wanted to stop and leave it be.

Wing never allowed that. He stayed with the speedster and caught him when he tried to give up. The unending patience from the flyer was a blessing, but also a curse. No matter what Hot Rod tried, the flyer never left him truly alone, always there to listen and give him what he needed in that specific moment.

Hot Rod wanted to give him something back for all the trouble, but Wing never asked for anything in return. Not even Drift could help him there. Wing was happy with helping Hot Rod find himself and understand that he was worth something.

Now he stood here, in one of the many gardens Crystal City had, staring at Wing surrounded by candlelight and watching colors dance across his plating. The flyer was beautiful and breathtaking. Hot Rod nearly felt ashamed for the attraction he felt towards the other, but how could he actually be ashamed? Wing was so incredible and gorgeous. It would be more shameful to not feel something for the swordsmech.

But all that did no longer matter as Wing turned his head and smiled gently at him. Hot Rod felt his spoiler flutter and his spark racing. Never would he get over the sheer adoration he felt when Wing smiled at him like that. How had Hot Rod deserved such a perfect mech as his friend?

“Hot Rod, come sit down with me.”

His body moved on it’s own accord and soon he sat beside the beautiful flyer, staring at the others face. Wing gently pulled one of his servos up and interlocked their digits. The speedster felt energon rush into his cheeks, painting a flush across his face. The flyer raised his other servo and presented the crystal flower to Hot Rod. He took the flower hesitatingly from the other and looked at Wing in awe.

The swordsmech chuckled quietly and looked at Hot Rod with adoration filling his optics. “It’s a gift, don’t look so surprised.” He said, as Hot Rod looked down at the flower. A gift? “I wanted to talk with you.” At that, Hot Rod looked up at Wing again.

The other seemed nervous, staring at his free servo, while trying to find words. That was unusual. Wing always found words to say, ones that may not be perfect in that moment, but he never fought with himself to find words. Hot Rod wasn't quite sure how to read that behavior, considering he had never seen Wing like this.

Unsure, nervous and almost vulnerable. He did not like it.

Wing took a deep vent, before locking optics with Hot Rod. “I am unsure how to approach this whole situation correctly.” An awkward cough followed the silence. “I have never found myself in a situation quite like this, if I am being honest.” That did not ease the knot forming in Hot Rod’s tanks.

Wing squeezed his servo and nodded to himself. “In the past few months I found that I greatly enjoy your company. You have grown from when I first met you and I wish to stay by your side to witness the rest of it, to see who you’ll be. I don't know if you feel the same, but I want to know where this could lead us.” Hot Rod stared at Wing, energon warming his cheeks and his servo holding the crystal flower trembling. Did Wing just say that? He did and it seemed he wanted to say more, so Hot Rod stayed quite. “I like you, a lot. This is not quite love, but I'm sure it could developed into it." The flyer looked at Hot Rod and raised his free servo to the others cheek, gently stroking it. "I want to try being together as more than friends, if you're okay with that."

Hot Rod felt like his spark was about to burst from his chestplate. His hands were trembling and he could do nothing more than stare at Wing in utter disbelief. This incrediblely patient, gorgeous and nicest mech Hot Rod had ever met, had just declared that he wanted a relationship with the speedster. This had to be a dream, but Hot Rod knew that he wouldn’t let himself come up with something so beautiful. No, he felt to guilty to believe he deserved something like this. He tried to vent, but found himself unable to do it properly. Wing's face grew concerned and the speedster could hear the other call his name.

"You mean that?" He got out. His vocalizer cracked and filled with static, but he got it out and Hot Rod watched understanding dawn on Wing's faceplate. The concern was still evident, but was now accompanied with the softness of before. Wing closed his optics and nodded. "Yes, every word I just said. I mean it with my whole spark." He opened his optics again anf looked at Hot Rod with the earnest expression he had ever seen. It broke the younger one even more. Tears welled up in his optics, but a smile also formed on his lips.

Hot Rod sobbed as he fell into Wing's arms, clutching him like a he would disappear the second he let go. Wing soothed him, running his free servo over Hot Rod's spoiler and tightening the grip of his other servo still intertwined with Hit Rod's. "I'm gonna be a lot of work." The speedster mumbled into the flyer's neckcables. Wing nodded. "Yes, you will be." Hot Rod turned his helm to look at the older mech, seeing a loving smile instead if the disappointment he expected. "But I can be patient and you are worth it, don't ever doubt that." With that hr planted a kiss on Hot Rod's helm and they returned to embracing each other.

The candlelight illuminating their frames as they sat quietly in the garden for hours. Hot Rod felt happier than ever before, with Wing curled around him, holding him close to the flyer's spark. The speedster smiled and let himself fall into recharge, knowing that Wing would be there when he woke up, loving him. Coming to Crystal City had been a great idea.

#transformers #maccadam #my writing #wing #hot rod #wingrod #This is very gay #Why am I making Hot Rod so sad? #I don’t know but it works #I'm also very aware that candlelight does not work like that #I just decided that I don’t care #My anxiety is killing me right now #Posting always does that

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

April 4th (Part 2) [Start of Arc]

Oh!

*They suddenly spot the truck coming along, and press something on their screen. All of a sudden, all the lights in front of the truck suddenly turn green.

Let’s go!

HUGH! OOPH! OGH! Dammit OOOOGG!!

*The person with the phone dives into the car, but unfortunately, doesn’t have the most graceful landing, as they faceplant into the other door.

PPPFFFFTT KAHAHAHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!

Oh for crying out-

GAHAHAHHAHHA!

Yeah, yeah ALRIGHT! Get it all out! GET IT ALL OUT! “OOGH! Haha! Ollie fell on his face boo hoo!”

S-Sorry I...SORRY! That was...That was just really funny!

Way to stick the landing Oliver.

Shut up man.

Ahh...Ho, that was funny. *tut* A-Anyway, this is Oliver! Oliver Feng!

Bet you can’t guess what their skill is...even though it says so in the card above me...

If you guessed hacker, then congratulations! You suck! But you’re not far off either.

They’re a prized florist and gardener, but on top of that, they’re ALSO our hi-tech wizard and super-powered hacker extraordinaire!

Landing aside, what you got for us Oliver?

*Oliver scans over his phone.

Well, their satellite coverage is censored and can’t see us, stopped any additional police dispatches or reinforces coming along, broke their air coverage, and-

Oh shit! Hey, Maya, think we could maybe take a detour? Sharp left, right here, I just remembered I left Leona to get the thing.

Huh? What thing?

Got it.

What THIIII-!

*Four huddles her equipment to prevent any of the acid chemicals spilling when Maya suddenly pulls a sharp left. The getaway truck pulls up outside what looks like a pastry store, and a stump young girl suddenly bursts out of the store, carrying a small box.

I GOT IT! I GOT IT!

Come on, let’s go!

*She jumps into the vehicle, and not wasting a moment, Maya slams down the accelerator.

And this little one here is Leona Vasquez!

She’s...uh...well...She draws comics and stuff and...She can make sort of believable forgeries? I guess?

Ok, I’m not sure WHAT she does for the group, but she’s fun to be around.

Hey! That’s mean Maya!

Whatever, did you get the package?

Yep! Paid for it and everything, but...didn’t have time to get the receipt.

Don’t tell me you-

*Leona unwraps the package and hands Four a birthday cake.

♩Happy Birthday To You~ Happy Birthday To You~ Happy Birthday Miss Grumpy~ Happy Birthday To You~♩

Well, what do you think?

I think you suck.

Oh come on, you need cakes for your birthday!

It’s NOT my birthday! Also, they’re gaining on us, so let me do this first, ok?

Maya! Look!

I see it!

*Up ahead, a large crowd of people block the roads, and Maya expertly swerves by them. The police cars chasing them however, screech to a halt and stop before they run the people over.

Whew! Nice driving!

Thanks! Sometimes I CAN be careful!

What’s with all these people?

Hm...Now that I think about it...Didn’t Hunter say he was gonna perform today?

Oh look! Here he comes!

*pant!* *pant!* WHOO!

*A largely built man with a goatee starts running towards the vehicle. Maya skids around as he jumps and hops into the open back of the truck, with several men and women chasing after him.

Phew! Fangirls, I tell ya’!

And THIS is Hunter Rosenhall!

He’s one of the world’s greatest dancers, and he always knows how to rally allies to our side when we most need it, even if they don’t know. He’s also super good at being the distraction. He’s also my best bud~

Put ‘er there!

*Hunter reaches his arm towards the window from the back of the car, and gives Maya a fist-bump.

Hunter, the next time you jump in the car, can you be a bit more careful? I think you seriously underestimate just how large you are.

Yeesh! What crawled up your ass?

You nearly knocked over my utensils! I’m trying to work here!

Aw, chill out pal. Today’s dance was in honor of you, you know? It IS your birthday~

It’s NOT my FUCKING birthday!

*Everyone starts to laugh.

Ugh...Anyway, where’s the last shmuck at? Hiding away in a hole somewhere like a coward?

Um...about that...

*Leona suddenly gestures forward once again. Approaching in the distance, she points out a manhole cover in the road that seems to be wobbling.

Did he really...?

He promised me it was gonna be great. Hold tight everyone!

*Hunter suddenly leans off the side of the car, holds out his hand as they approach the manhole, and then suddenly...!

*GASP!* BOOYAH!

*A figure jumps out of the sewers and grabs Hunters hand. Hunter pulls him onto the truck.

And rounding out our motley crew...is Kouji Ito!

Contrary to the way he appears and his seemingly low level of intelligence, he’s actually a pretty neat scientist AND our medical professional!

Speaking of which, Kouji, did you do the thing?

Oh gods, please don’t tell me you got me a birthday present or something?

I’m not wasting my cash on you! But yeah, I did it.

Then do the thing!

Alright! You got it!

*Kouji suddenly pulls a button from his pocket, looks back at the police cars giving chase, and then presses it.

...

Huh?

*Nothing happens, so he presses it over and over again.

Kouji, did you forget to place the bombs?

Bombs!?

Not real bombs! Not real bombs!

Yeah, just those stink bombs we were working on. I coulda sworn I put the right charges down in the sewer!

Um...Kouji?

Yeah?

Uh...is THIS the stink bomb you were talking about!?

!!??

!!??

!!??

!!??

OH SHIT-!

*PPPAAAAAARRPP!!*

*Too little, too late, the real stinkbomb goes off inside the truck.

GAAGH! My eyes are watering!

GAGH! IT GOT IN MY MOUTH!

YOU DUMBAAAASS!

Sorry! SORRY!

*COUGH!* *SPLUTTER!* Hey, o-on the bright side, at least we know it works! Yeah, and look!

*Maya points behind them. The cloud of gas emitted by the stink bomb drifts from the gang’s vehicle to the police cars behind them, throwing them off course and causing them to crash.

Now only if WE didn’t have to experience that trauma.

Sorry man! And on your birthday too...

I am genuinely going to kill all of you.

Heehee!

And that’s our little group rounded up. I know, we’re all completely batshit crazy, you can say it. Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve heard that. We’ve never been the most popular group of characters. Not in the world, nor in the fandom.

And yeah, maybe I would like for us to one day be recognized as classics, and that people would look past all the bullshits and archetypes and see us for who we really are. But you know what else? If the world makes you a problem, who are you to argue back?

Hah! BINGO!

*Four finishes concocting the acid, then places it in an ejection tube. She places the device against the steel wall of the safe and pulls the trigger, burning a whole through the metal, and opening the safe.

Yes!

BOOM BABY!

*SKRRRT!*

*Maya makes a sharp turn and pulls around the corner, the world seeming to go in slow motion as they drift.

We...

Are the Freedom Foundation!

#danganronpa survivor #danganronpa #hyper danganronpa h2o #hdrh2o #maya canzanilla #four kaiden #leona vasquez #kouji ito #oliver feng #hunter rosenhall #into the ocean arc

[gay-salt-amber]

Lilia x Starling

3rd person

Kalim turned, glancing at Cater, the light music club's bass player “Have you heard anything from Lilia today?” 

Cater shook his head, “No, I don’t think so.”

The bubbly prince looked concerned, “He’s never late! He's typically the first one here!” 

“Maybe he got busy? He has a lot of responsibilities, anyway.” The ginger pointed out

Kalim sighed, “Yeah, you’re right. Well, we can get on with practice anyway! Esther said they’d  be here in a minute.” 

The Heartslabyul student was already tuning his guitar, “Yes sir.” He said teasingly

Kalim laughed before returning to everyday conversation, “Oh yeah, what were you saying about Riddle?”

Cater's eyes lit up, “Ok, so-”

Just then the light music door, and behind it was Lilia Vanrouge, the fae the main subject of the other two boys' conversation. The two turned around to greet him and noticed a brighter pink on his cheeks

“You ok dude?” Cater asked

The black-haired man only sat down on the couch in the clubroom, grabbed a pillow that Cater handed to him, and screamed into it.

He paused before speaking lightly, “I have a problem.”

Kalim, upon hearing that, put down his drumsticks quickly and sped walked over, “What happened?” 

The other sighed, “Y’know Starling?” 

The prince's head tilted, “Yeah? Of course, we do! Everyone around campus atleast has heard the name!”  

“Well, I was having a normal morning, y’know having my morning tea like normal, and I got to thinking about whatever and I came to a huge realization,” He breathed before continuing his story, “So, uhm, once when they and Malleus were hanging out, Starling mentioned a dream they had that long story short, had a character that matched my description to a T.” 

Cater smiled, “That's cute… What's the problem though?”

“Well, for one, they had the dream before they came here and for two, in fae culture, dreams about the other are sure signs that the person dreaming of you is your future partner in one way or another.” 

Kalim looked like he was pondering something before speaking again, “Well, do you return any romantic attraction to him?” 

Lilia faceplanted into the pillow, curled up in a ball, “I-I think so? I don’t know! I haven’t experienced any romantic attraction in about… 40? 50 years? I didn’t think I even experienced it anymore.” 

Then the door opened again, revealing Esther Faris, Daisomnias vampire first year. Upon seeing the scene on the couch they laughed, “Is he still having pan panic?”

Lilia scoffed, “Oi, I had to listen to you, Silver, Sebek… And Arie for that matter, gay panicking over each other for about two months, let me have my gay panic over Starling, ok?” 

Esther smirked, “Fine, fine. How’re you doing though? You’ve been like this since breakfast.” 

“I think... A little better? I mean, I know it’s romantic attraction, I guess.” 

Kalim spoke up next, “Have you always had a crush on them? Or did this just hit you now?”

“I always did, I just didn’t realize it.” 

“Do you wanna tell them?” Kalim asked

Proba- Where’d Cater go?”

Esther shrugged, “Riddle needed him for a dorm thing.”

“Hm,” Lilia paused, “But yeah, I would want to, I just don’t know how I would go about something like that. I’m not exactly familiar with human traditions when it comes to these things.” 

The vampire smirked, “I have an idea.” 

–

Lilia pov

‘Why did I agree to this?’ I thought as I stood in one of Diasomnias back gardens, Esther's idea itself was sound enough but it's just the idea of saying that I like Starling that's the problem for me. Sweet Seven help me. I breathed, well no backing out now. I mean, even if I do get rejected I’ll have the satisfaction of admitting my attraction.

I smiled at the sight of his multi-colored hair, “Good morning, Starling.”

Starling’s head whipped around, “Vanrouge-san? What’re you doing here?”

“I may or may not have been the one who invited you here.” I laughed lightly

 “Oh? What did you need?” 

“Ok, this is probably going to sound weird to you, so stop me if you need to,” I breathed, “I heard your conversation with Malleus about that dream you had, and the description you gave matched me, right?”

The boy nodded, “I’d say so.”

“In fae culture, when someone has a dream about another person that's a sign of-”

Before Lilia could respond Starling spoke up, “It's a sign of romantic attraction, right? I did some research myself after the dream.” 

“Mhm, that's what it means, so uhm… I… I don’t know what I’m doing, for the love of the seven..” I chuckled, sitting down

Starling smiled and sat in front of me, “Are you asking me to date you?”

I nodded, “if you’ll have me.” 

The bird-named boy reached out and enveloped me in a hug, “Of course, I don’t think I’d be able to ask for anything better.”

I buried my face into their shoulder with a laugh, “Thank you, I love you.”

“Love you too.”

#Lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland oc #twst starling flight #starling flight #lilia x starling #lilia x oc

[kakashiswilloffire]

Another Year

ao3

tw: discussion of past suicidal ideation

wc: 1.4k

summary: you know that feeling when you've been suicidal but today's your birthday and you're not totally sure how you got here? it's that, but kakashi. hurt/comfort. happy birthday my dude

***

Happy birthday.

He looked at the clock on the nightstand, four zeros staring back at him. September fifteenth. Another year survived. Great.

Knowing sleep was a lost cause, he got up and took a shower. After that, he grabbed one of the containers of rolled egg and rice that he had prepared earlier in the week. He ate it cold, leaning against the kitchen counter, deliberately not thinking. Then he finished getting dressed, checked the contents of his pack, and headed out to the cemetery to begin his day.

He spoke to Minato-sensei first. He and Kushina had always been big fans of birthdays. For each one that they celebrated as part of their team, Kushina had gone above and beyond with decorations and surprises while Minato handled the treats and baked goods. There was one year that Obito had tripped as he moved to blow the candles out on an elaborate tiered cake and had faceplanted directly into the confection. Rin had nearly collapsed in a giggling fit when he removed his icing-covered goggles and shook sprinkles out of his hair. The whole incident was blamed on Kakashi somehow, Obito insisting he had deliberately untied his laces so that he would fall and make a fool of himself. That was a good year.

Rin was next. She was also a fan of birthdays, but respected that Kakashi wasn’t. She wouldn’t remind others of the date, but she always got him a gift. He had to admit she had an incredible skill for picking the perfect practical, yet sentimental gifts. The year she give him a set of sealing scrolls in his favorite color that she had worked with Kushina to tailor so only he could use the seal was one that stood out to him. She had been so proud of herself and spent the following week scrubbing chakra-laced ink stains off of her skin.

Third came Obito. He had barely known his own birthday, let alone when anyone else’s was. He was liked enough to be invited to his former classmate’s parties, and Rin made sure to remind him several times before each one whose birthday it was and what gifts they might like. His gifts were usually things he scrambled together anyway, like most of a chocolate bar with a handwritten note. Kakashi had once given him a training guide full of katas for academy students, telling him the material inside might be difficult but he believed he’d be up to the challenge. After two days working on the forms during their training sessions, a passing Anko cackled as she told him that she’d learned the same thing yesterday and could already do it with better technique. That had been one of the few times they all heard Kakashi genuinely laugh.

He finished by stepping off to the side, approaching the lonely stone out of the way. He couldn’t remember how his dad felt about birthdays, but he did remember the last one they had celebrated together. Sakumo had said he could have anything he wanted for dinner, and he had been so excited to try the eggplant from the garden. All day, he searched for recipes to use it in. Miso soup was something he was already familiar with, and it could only be improved with the addition of grilled eggplant. They prepared the meal together and both sat under the tatami with a heaping portion. While he had since perfected the recipe over the years, there was something he would never forget about that first bowl.

Kakashi took a moment to allow himself to miss his old team. Now that he had become a jonin sensei, he understood more about how Minato had always tried his best with them, and the three new genin of his own reminded him so much of those he had outlived. They didn’t know when his birthday was, despite this being the second one he’d had since they started taking missions together. They really didn’t know much of anything about him, though. He’d made sure of that.

The sunlight filtering through the trees told him it was time to head to the training grounds to get his own workout in and still have time to disappear before the genin arrived to be casually late again. He wondered if they would ever catch on. A smile crept underneath his mask as he remembered when Gai had finally figured it out.

Konoha’s Noble Green Beast had been trying to catch him for a test of rivalry for weeks. It was around the time Kakashi had joined ANBU, and he was an expert in evading detection and had insider information on all the good hiding spots in the village. It took a while, but his success was well worth the effort. Once he established which building Kakashi hid in the most often, it was easy enough to arrange food, drinks, desserts, and all their friends to be waiting for him. Gai had chased him down on his birthday, discretely pushing him closer and closer to the surprise party. As much as he hated the attention, the dedication and level of care Gai had put in nearly brought him to tears at the time.

And while in ANBU, there was the time he had worked with Itachi and Shisui to plant a trail of wooden blocks leading to the break room where he waited with cupcakes and all of Team Ro to sing happy birthday. It was the first time he had heard it sung to him as Tenzo, and his blush stretched all the way to his happuri. Itachi swore he saw a flower start to sprout from his thick brown hair, but Tenzo had denied the claim vehemently. Yugao pulled out a single sake bottle and they all passed it around, even allowing the youngest members a small sip. That was only a few weeks before the team split.

He checked in for his usual training ground, then headed over. It was strange to think he was another year older. Originally, he hadn’t planned to be older than thirteen. Then it was fifteen, sixteen, seventeen… when had he finally decided to live? To his knowledge, he stopped actively thinking about suicide around twenty-four. Now, he was twenty-eight. Had he really made it four years without wanting to die?

When he had first talked to Rin about suicide, she listened attentively and calmly, letting him speak at his pace and only pressing him when she needed clarification about if he had a plan and what it might be. She reassured him that plenty of shinobi considered it at one point or another, given the amount of death they see on a regular basis. And with his father’s history, he was at an increased risk of suicidality, but with a support system, he had an advantage in surviving past this. She and Gai remained by his side whenever possible, and Minato and Kushina dropped by his apartment once a week to drop off food “leftovers” and check the state of his home life. Ultimately it was Rin who gave the piece of advice he held on to most dearly.

“Whenever you take a moment to reflect on what’s happening around you, be glad that you’re here to experience it. In the happy moments, the neutral, and sometimes even the sad—take a beat and remember that you’re only a part of this because you are still here, and be grateful that you haven’t killed yourself.”

This, he thought, was one of those moments.

The wave of emotion staggered him. In that moment she first said it, he had scoffed because there didn’t seem to be an event worth being alive for. But despite that, over time he had collected dozens.

Watching a giddy Kurenai kiss Asuma on the cheek and seeing the cigarette he was about to light falling to the ground as his jaw dropped. Minato’s Hokage ceremony, and the baby shower Kushina had in the Hokage’s quarters a few weeks later. The pranks played with different members of Team Ro. Passing his chunin exam on the first try. The never-ending challenges with Gai.

Remembering all the times the elder Ino-Shika-Cho trio had traded off babysitting him while his father was delayed on missions in the field. The time Jiraiya and Orochimaru spent teaching him about summoning animals. Tsunade giving him a cup of watered-down sake when he got his wisdom teeth taken out, and the hell Minato had raised after.

Somehow, he had built a life outside of the trauma he had endured.

Somehow, he found reasons to live and things worth staying alive for.

And despite all odds, he celebrated another birthday.

#kakashi fanfiction #kakashi hurt/comfort #kakashi hatake #tw suicide mention #kakashi angst #happy birthday kakashi

[hedgehog-moss]

1. So I planted my little vegetable garden yesterday, right?

2. And it started raining so I didn’t bother to water the seedlings, but today was sunny. Before dinner I went to fetch my watering can.

3. My watering can spent a long, lonely winter abandoned outside the barn, in the spot where I put it down for the last time in September and immediately forgot about it. It knew its time would come again.

4. I pick it up.

5. It’s heavy, full of rainwater, three seasons’ worth. I’m not going to use this water, I decide. Stale old rainwater? My baby tomatoes deserve better. I’m going to go to the spring and fill the can with fresh and glossy springwater.

6. Always treat your tomatoes the way you would want a tomato to treat you.

7. I don’t want to waste the stale old water though. My boots are so muddy, let’s use it to clean my boots!

8. I flip over the watering can.

9. !!!!!!!!!

9. NINE DROWNED MICE tumble down on my feet.

9. !!!!!!!!!

10. With a squealsob and a hysterical dance I manage to jump away from the can while simultaneously shaking a dead mouse off my boot

11. It slides down, wetly.

12. There are no words to describe the feeling of going to water your tomatoes on a peaceful June evening and suddenly watering your own feet with nine drowned mice against your will

13. It’s hard to describe the sound, as well. The sound of nine extremely drowned mice cascading down on a pair of rubber boots. If a mouse was a fluid and fluid was a noise, that would describe it. It’s aqueous but in the most disturbing way? Like if a Guillermo del Toro water creature tripped and faceplanted on a second Guillermo del Toro water creature

14. I suppose the mice climbed into the can to have a drink then couldn’t climb out and drowned—I feel so bad for them but come on. Couldn’t the eighth mouse realise this watering can was a death trap?? how did this tale of horror not spread around the mouse community sooner

15. My cats came out of the barn and stared at my nine drowned mice without venturing too near, clearly disgusted and thinking “Please stick to the varied diet of rodents we provide for you; you don’t know what you’re doing. You’re supposed to eat them long before they get this bad.” They were judging me in much the same way my mother does when she finds mouldy leftovers in a Tupperware in my fridge.

16. There was no weird smell around the barn until today, but now that the mice have left their watery grave they give off the most awful smell of putrefaction. I fed some branches to my wood chipper and dumped a tall pile of wood dust over them. Then added some large flat stones so the dog doesn’t dig them up. If that’s not enough to mask the smell I will have to sell my barn.

17. Message me if you are interested in buying an old French barn with a recently-renovated slate roof, three quiet feline tenants and a sort of Neolithic burial mound for mice against the Eastern wall. 

#crawling along #well i'm going to have dinner now #bon appétit everyone... i'm sorry

[wyverian-lady525]

I noticed you've been doing a lot of stories where the rider has a fear of the dark, but WHAT IF Kyle was the one who was afraid of the dark?

Oooooo, good idea!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Distaste For The Dark

In which Kyle has a fear of the dark but is all stubborn about it.

You and Kyle were out and about in Pomore Garden. In all honesty, there was no monster to hunt. You just wanted some fresh air, and Kyle didn’t want to be alone with Tsukino and Navirou.

“Are you okay?” You asked him as you noticed Kyle darting his eyes from left to right in apparent worry.

“I’m fine.” He grumbled while folding his arms. You sighed and rolled your eyes. If he wanted to be difficult, so be it. You knew he was lying.

The night went on with him acting like that. You, however, were enjoying the beautiful scenery that Pomore Garden had to offer at night. The full moon was reflecting off the sea, and the cherry blossom trees were all glistening as well. You took in a deep breath, enjoying the cool salty air.

Then came a strong gust of wind.

The petals all blew off the trees in its wake. One happened to hit Kyle, you let out a girlish shriek and bumped into you, causing you to nearly faceplant into the ground.

“Alright. That’s enough, Kyle. What is your problem?” You growled as the young hunter panicked. Kyle glanced over at you, freezing in his outburst. For a second, you thought you saw tears in his eyes.

“Nothing...” He mumbled while looking away. However, unlike earlier, his saltier attitude sounded much sadder. And he almost looked like a toddler than a teenager.

You kind of felt bad for him, because you think you know the reason for his aggression.

“Are you...afraid of the dark?” You asked. His behavior all pointed towards that, however, Kyle looked appalled.

“No!” He barked with a glare in his eyes. However, a monster screeching in the distance caused him to shoot towards you. Kyle looked beyond terrified, but after a couple seconds, he pushed himself off you with a glare.

You arched a brow at his behavior, and he sighed, defeated.

“Maybe a little bit...” He grumbled while folding his arms and closing his eyes, waiting for the teasing to start. His brothers always teased him for this fear, called it unrealistic and such.

However, you never laughed.

“It’s alright Kyle. Everyone has a fear.” You told him with a gentle smile. Kyle was surprised by your reaction. He figured that after everything he’s done, you would gladly take this opportunity to stab him at his weakest moment. Instead, you reassure him.

“Come on, we can head back.” You told him while gesturing back towards the shelter. Kyle still didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded. 

You would’ve made fun of him, but you knew that fear wasn’t something people should joke about. So, any other time, you will be snarky with him.

But not about this.

“So, what’s your fear?” Kyle asked after a while, and you just smirked.

“Who said I was scared of anything?”

#monster hunter stories 2 #monster hunter stories #mhst #mhst2 #kyle #kyle x reader #mhst2 kyle #monster hunter stories 2 kyle #mhst2 kyle x reader

[vhenadahls]

the remnants of the life i used to live here in eden

After Tali is exonerated, she decides to give Pippa Shepard a tour of the Rayya.

G, 2600 words.

“Tali’Zorah, in light of your history of service, we do not find sufficient evidence to convict. You are cleared of all charges.”

Admiral Raan’s voice is still steady and professional, a proper admiral’s voice, but it’s lighter than it’s been the entire time they’ve been on the Fleet. Tali sags forward against the railing in front of her and Pippa, relief exuding from her entire body. The garden plaza erupts with a buzz of chatter, blotting out both Raan’s and Shepard’s next words - not that Tali is sure she would’ve heard them anyways, her own heart is beating so loud. She hasn’t been exiled, and Shepard hasn’t revealed her father’s treachery, and when she woke up on the Normandy today she definitely had not expected this to be the way her day went.

The admirals end the trial, and people start to stream out of the garden plaza, still buzzing with conversation and gossip and thoughts and theories. Tali drags Pippa over to speak with each of the admirals, pointedly keeping the conversation with Admiral Xen blessedly short, and to thank Reegar and Veetor yet again for speaking up for her. Eventually they make it back to the corridor outside the plaza, Garrus trailing behind them. Looking up at the achingly familiar patched-together entranceway, she makes a split-second decision. “Garrus, you go on back to the Normandy. We’ll catch up.”

Garrus looks at Pippa for confirmation. She glances back at Tali, who knows her body language is telegraphing her excitement but that Pippa and Garrus won’t know what it means. After a moment Shepard nods, and Garrus walks back up the corridor to the docking bay the Normandy is in.

Pippa turns to face Tali full-on, a wide grin visible through the viewscreen of her helmet. “Well then, Miss vas Normandy, what’s got you so excited?”

Okay, maybe Pippa’s not so bad at quarian body language as she thought. She pushes that aside and bounces from foot to foot “We’re on the Rayya. It’s my birth ship. I thought I’d take you on a tour.”

Pippa’s mouth drops open behind her viewscreen - Tali’s learned this one, a display of shock or awe for many species, not just humans. “A tour? Really? Is that allowed?”

Laughing, Tali links her arm through Pippa’s and steers her towards the trading plaza. “Probably not, but I doubt they’re going to say anything after today.”

The trading plaza, just a short walk down the corridor from the garden plaza, is also achingly familiar and almost just as she remembers it. The people and items in it are different, of course, but it’s the same design as always. Bank of lockers on the back wall, all different sizes, all full of things someone didn’t need but someone else could use. Rows of desks for anyone to hawk wares, services, whatever it is they can do or make or trade that others might want. It’s loud, crowded, full of people speaking Khelish, people she can still understand if she turns off her translator. A wave of homesickness washes over her, even though she’s standing right in the middle of the ship she grew up on. She won’t live here again, not on the Rayya, even if she does come back to the Flotilla.

Trying to disengage from that feeling, she turns back to Pippa, whose grin has spread even wider. “Where are we now? It looks like a market.” Her eyes dart back and forth across the plaza, head turning so rapidly she looks like a top.

“Kind of,” Tali says, leading the way to the stall of a quilter she remembers from before her Pilgrimage. “We don’t use credits within the Flotilla. Needs like food, water, and medicine are doled out as needed, and you trade for other things. Trade your work, your surplus supplies, information, whatever you have. That’s what this is for - this is where people trade what they can. The lockers on the wall,” she points, “are for people to leave items they don’t want anymore, and someone else can take them. Other people make things to sell here. Quilts, suit adornments, and so on. And musicians and storytellers and dancers can show off their skills.” She points again, to a musician and a dancer attracting a small audience in the opposite corner.

“No credits? How?” Pippa slows, trying to watch exchanges between traders and customers while continuing to follow Tali. “Even when I was a kid on the streets, creds were king. That’s what will for sure get you food in your belly and a safe place to sleep.”

Tali’s heart squeezes painfully, the way it always does when Pippa mentions her childhood before BAaT and the Alliance. She’ll have to ask about that someday. “We don’t have to worry about food and shelter - everyone gets food, everyone gets shelter. You know that’s why we don’t have an incarceration system and our highest punishment is exile - we can’t support those who don’t work to provide for the community, because everyone is given those things by virtue of being quarian. But this sort of thing - things that aren’t necessities, things that make your life happier or easier or the like - those we trade for, because what better thing to offer than something else we value?” They’ve reached the quilt-trader, and Tali holds up her hand in greeting. “I’m Tali’Zorah, and this is Pippa Shepard.”

The quilt-trader nods. “I remember you, Tali’Zorah.” She turns to Pippa, holding out a hand with her palm facing forward, fingers slightly bent, so Pippa can interlace her own with them - a first-time greeting. “Welcome, Pippa Shepard. I am Chenah’Ayyal.”

Pippa looks back at Tali, probably confused, but holds her hand up - Tali would never have doubted she’d be a good sport. The quilt-seller interlinks their fingers, and Pippa won’t be able to tell, no matter how good she’s gotten at reading quarian body language, but Tali can almost feel the approval wafting off Ayyal.

“What brings you to the Rayya’s trading plaza, Shepard?” Ayyal asks, pointedly re-fluffing one of the quilts on her display. It’s reminiscent of Rannoch, qorach and canyons and wide-open sky, in shades of blue and purple.

Rather than answering, Pippa shoots a sidelong glance at Tali. The meaning is obvious - she’s going to let Tali do most of the talking, let Tali choose how others will see a human wandering around one of the Fleet’s most precious ships. She can spin this however she wants.

“I’m taking her on a tour,” she says. No spin. “I want to show her where I grew up.”

Ayyal’s stance becomes guarded, but not angry or mistrustful. Honestly more than Tali had expected, and her stomach unclenches just a bit. She draws one finger down the neat and even stitching of the Rannoch blanket. “This is beautiful. Your stitching is every bit as lovely as I remember. I’ve never seen it fray.”

With the disgusted sound Ayyal makes deep in her throat, the air clears even more. “How can you say that?” she asks, dragging the cloth from under Tali’s hand. “See here, the stitches are off center - everyone will notice! How am I supposed to be happy with anyone displaying this in their quarters? I’ll be a laughingstock!”

Tali tries her very best to muffle a laugh, and the hacking cough suddenly afflicting Pippa spells the same. “Just like a craftsperson,” she says, unable to contain a final huff of laughter. “Thank you for talking with us. Until I return.”

“Until I see you again,” Ayyal replies, and holds up her hand again to Pippa, who readily interlaces their fingers again. “And you, Pippa Shepard,” she adds, and Pippa’s answering grin could power the Flotilla for a week. At least.

 Grinning too, Tali links her arm back with Pippa’s and steers her back out of the trading plaza and into another corridor. “So that’s the trading plaza, obviously. Most of what’s right around here is also community areas - a school, an infirmary, you saw the garden plaza, and those sorts of things.” She points out the places they pass as they go, places where she spent her childhood and adolescence. “Schools are clean rooms, because children don’t have suits yet. They’re bubbled - like Raan talked about - but when there’s that many children together, it’s better for the space to be clean too. Infirmary too, for obvious reasons, so those are usually right near each other for efficiency.”

“Name of the day on a ship, any ship.” Pippa peers in through windows when they exist, nodding at each quarian they pass. Tali’s heart skips yet another beat as she watches her. The Rayya might be one of the Fleet’s most important ships, but it’s still dingy and patched-together and shabby compared to the least Alliance ship, let alone the Normandy. But Pippa doesn’t look out of place or uncomfortable at all. She looks excited, interested. She looks like she fits in.

There’s only one reason Tali could be worrying about whether Pippa fits in on the Flotilla, and she is not ready to interrogate that quite yet. Instead, she pulls Pippa down a side corridor, so suddenly that Pippa yelps from being knocked off balance. “This way is to hydroponics - the reason these are called liveships.”

Pippa might be an entire handspan shorter than Tali, but she sure can walk fast when she’s excited about something. “Oh, man! I know I’m not going to understand any of it. But it’s so cool! You figured out how to grow enough food to support seventeen million people in space! Three hundred years ago!” She’s pulling Tali now, stopping dead when they reach an intersection. “Which way?”

Their footsteps echo on the metal floors, familiar and comforting, as Tali leads Pippa through the maze of cobbled-together corridors to the hydroponics observation deck. When the doors open, Pippa hurries over to the windows, pressing her faceplate against the glass to peer at the leafy green plants below. “Look at it! That’s all food!”

Laughing again, Tali joins her at the window. “We all take turns volunteering there, not just those of us who live on the liveships. So everyone has a chance to be part of how and where food comes from and is distributed and all of that.” She gestures to a corner on the far end of what they can see. “I always worked in that corner over there. Helped plant, check irrigation systems, whatever needed doing.”

“Wish I’d had something like that.” Pippa’s smile this time doesn’t actually reach her eyes. “Didn’t really think, as a kid, about where food came from before I nicked it.” Her voice is wistful - the opposite of nostalgic, whatever that is. Tali squeezes her hand, and Pippa turns away from the window.

“Show me where you used to live?” she asks. “If you want to.”

“That was my plan. It’s a deck down, so we’ll just go through here…” she lets her words trail off as they head back into the corridor maze, find the stairs, and go down to the deck where she spent most of her life. The designs painted on the walls, the quilts hung to muffle sound, someone in a familiar suit in literally every corner of the ship - it’s almost like she’s stepped back in time.

She stops in front of the door to her family’s apartment, the apartment that was her home until two years ago. The blank door beckons, but she doesn’t knock. “It belongs to someone else now, another family. They moved my father once I transfered to the Neema, gave him a space more conducive to one person alone and gave this to a family that needed more room.” Her voice is as devoid of emotion as she can make it, trying not to let Pippa hear how draining this is to be back in these spaces that hold memories of her father. And her mother.

Pippa’s hand appears on her shoulder, and Tali looks down at it, trying to let it pierce the haze of remembering. “Hey. It’s okay. It’s alright to be upset.”

It’s alright. Tali snorts. “My father wouldn’t agree. We don’t have time for sentimentality. We didn’t have time to come here at all, honestly. He would’ve been upset with me for letting my feelings overcome my duty.”

“Hey.” The hand on Tali’s shoulder slides down her arm to interlace their fingers together, three and five. “You’re allowed to care. He cared about you. He didn’t know how to show it, but he did. You care about him, still. You care about your people, about our crew. And that’s a good thing. That means you’ll do what you can to protect as many of them as you can.”

“They didn’t want me to come home.” An unfamiliar person emerges from the apartment door, looks between the two of them, and heads off down the hall without a word. Tali moves back up the corridor, Pippa trailing behind, so they won’t be right in front of someone’s door anymore. She tries again. “They didn’t want me to come home. They were using me as a prop, a piece in someone else’s game.” Her voice is rising, and she doesn’t care to stop it. “They stripped my ship name, Shepard!”

“I know. But you don’t have to accept their reasoning for it.” Pippa leans against the wall below a sign in Khelish telling her not to do exactly that.

Tali narrows her eyes. “How do you mean?”

“The ones who voted to strip your ship name wanted you to feel like you didn’t belong. Like you had no home, no one to stand with you. But you do, Tali, you have so many people who stand with you! And multiple homes!” So quickly she looks like she’ll topple over, Pippa stands up straight away from the wall, hands spread for emphasis. “Raan did what she could for you, Reegar and Veetor spoke up for you. They gave you the Normandy in your name in quarian fashion - that’s not a thing any other species does, you know that. You belong in both places. Both, and. Not neither.” Embarrassed, like she wasn’t expecting that speech to pop out of her, she leans back against the wall.

You belong in both places. No one’s ever made it sound like that could be possible. You go on Pilgrimage, you come home and you stay home. Or you don’t, and you never come home again. But Pippa - the same ridiculous human that Tali followed by chance two years ago, who’s come back from the dead at the hands of a terrorist organization Tali couldn’t hate more if she tried - Pippa thinks it doesn’t have to be like that. She can have a human ship name, an entirely non-quarian crew...and still belong to the Fleet. Two homes.

It’ll take some time to get used to that idea.

“You stood for me, too.” She nudges Pippa with her shoulder. “Don’t forget yourself.”

Another blush spreads across Pippa’s pale cheeks. “Well, yeah. I thought that was a given. Or at least, it’s a given to me.”

“It means a lot, though.” Tali takes a deep breath. “I’m glad to be part of your crew.”

The blush deepens. “I am too, Tali. Um, glad you’re part of the crew.” She looks back at the apartment door, closed now. “You ready to go home? Wait, shit, sorry. You ready to go back to the Normandy?”

Five minutes ago, Tali would’ve appreciated the correction. It still grates a little. But…

“Let’s go home.” She can have both. Or at least she can try.

#mass effect #tali'zorah #shepard #shepard x tali #shali #pippa shepard tag #otp: memories you bury or live by #logan writes fic

[timbertumbr]

BET! (BHC! Blue X Reader X BHC! Nox)

Right, First Bonley Hearts oneshot. Let's go!

Disclaimer: Blue and Nox are simping for Reader, not each other. Just to let y'all know.

Oh, And there will be flirting.

Lots of flirting.

And just in case-

Blue is Underswap Sans

Nox is Swapfell Sans

Rus is Swapfell Papyrus

Red is Underfell Sans

Ash is Horrortale Sans

You have known the skeletons across the street for a while now. So you were well aware of the bets Blue and Nox had on the daily. So when you received a text from Red while chilling on the couch, you knew today was going to be… interesting. 

Bad2thebone: Hey, so Blue and Nox made another bet. And it involves you.

You squint at the text, what? Blue and Nox usually keep people OUT of their bets, not in.

You: I’m afraid to ask, but how so?

Bad2thebone: They flirt with you until one of em gets you flustered, winner gets to take you out.

You: Okay- 1. How the hell did you know this and 2. With a sniper or on a date?

Bad2thebone: 1. They’re loud, especially with their bet declarations. And 2. That’s a surprise. ;)

You snicker.

You: Oh boy. Thanks for the warning, I owe ya.

Bad2thebone: 👍

You sharply inhale upon receiving a message from one of the devils themselves, Blue.

BLUESTREAK92: Y/N! WANNA HELP ME TEND THE GARDEN WITH ASH?! HE’S OKAY WITH YOU COMING OVER TO HELP! ONLY IF YOU WANT TO THOUGH! ^^

. . . Fuck. Your one weakness, the adorable gardener named Ash. Now you CAN’T say no! Damn you Blue, damn you…

With a sigh, you force yourself off the couch and leave the home towards your impending doom.

__________

When you arrived, Ash and Blue were tending to a patch of one of the many plants in the backyard. They wave as you approach, kneeling beside them.

“Hey Y/n…” Ash mutters, you nod with a smile which Ash appreciates and is quick to get back to work. 

“I’m glad you decided to join us Y/N!” Blue says with a knowing smile. You slightly glare at him before directing your attention to Ash.

“So what can I do to help?” 

“You can… um… hand me the tools?” 

“I can do that!” And so you do. You hand Ash the tools he asks for and Blue was talking about everything and anything that came to mind. Soon enough, you were done tending to Ash’s garden.

“Thanks guys… I really appreciate you both helping…” Ash says with a smile, FUCK HE’S TOO CUTE FOR HIS OWN GOOD!

“No problem dude, always happy to help,” Blue nods at your statement and glances around the garden before smirking, oh NO.

“Ya know Y/N, if you were a flower, you’d be a damnnndelion,” 

. . . Okay, you have two weaknesses. Ash, and the smooth talker named BLUE! YOU WERE NOT EXPECTING THAT!

“Pft- Hahahaha!” You couldn’t help but laugh, that was hilarious! Even Ash seemed to think so since he was snickering into his hand. Blue wasn’t expecting this reaction but he was glad to see you smiling, bonus points for making his soft spoken “cousin” chuckle as well! He should try doing this more often…

_____________

You were currently helping Rus in the kitchen, he was trying to make a cake before you came over per Nox’s request (demand). Rus was happy to spend some time with you AND his brother while you were making the frosting and Nox was working on something at the kitchen table. 

“So… you know what’s going on right? With Nox and Blue?” He asks hesitantly, You nod.

“Yeah, Red informed me. So far it’s just been Blue trying to make me laugh, Nox hasn’t done anything remotely flirty,” Rus winces silently at that.

“Yet,”

“Huh?”

“He hasn’t done anything ‘flirty’ yet because he’s planning, I’d be careful If I were you,” Rus jokes, knowing just how suave his brother can be. You smirk.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be careful,” You assure as you start helping Rus frost the cake. Unbeknownst to you both, Nox was silently watching, a devilish smirk creeping onto his skull. 

“Aaaaaand, done!” You say proudly, looking at the decently iced cake with “cake” written on it with a different colored frosting. 

“Looks good, lets see how it tastes,” Rus suggests, you nod and grab two plates and forks and bring them over to the cake. Rus takes them and gets the knife.

“I’ll be serving them if that’s alright,” You nod at Rus’s request and take a step back to let him work. Nox then made his move, silently standing up and walking up behind you.

“There are plenty of fish in the sea, but you’re the only one I’d like to catch,~” He purred in your ear, causing you to squeak from surprise and turn around to see the smirking Nox. A blush crept onto your cheeks as your heart fluttered, god damn that was smooth and so sweet.

“Aww, th-thank you Nox,” You say with a sincere smile, Nox blinked bewildered. You had gotten somewhat embarrassed and flattered, not flustered. Nox couldn’t help but smile slightly, even if this wasn’t the result he wanted, your reaction was quite the sight. 

He gives you another smirk, winks and then walks back to his work while your blush grows slightly. You sigh and turn to Rus who was watching with an amused smirk.

“I warned ya,” He teased as he handed you a plate, you take it.

“Hush,” You mutter, causing Rus to snicker.

___________________

A week has passed. And their attempts to flirt have not slowed ONCE. Their flirts ranged depending on their mood and time of day. From hilarious and slightly embarrassing to down right dirty. (cough Nox cough) The two were now having a flirt off with you as their target and you don’t know how much more you can take. Then, your saving grace came in a text. 

Bad2thebone: Hey, I’m gonna cash in that IOU in now if that’s alright.

You: Omg, you have the BEST timing! So, whatcha wanna do?

Bad2thebone: Just watch me play a game, you know where my room is.

“Sorry guys, Red wants me for something, we can continue hanging out later okay?” You say as soon as you read the text, they both give you a look of disappointment, before Blue smiles.

“That’s alright! Have fun!” You nod as you hastily walk up the stairs and into Red’s room with a relieved sigh. 

“That bad huh?” He asks, not taking his eyes off the screen. You drag yourself across the room and faceplant his bed.

“Ugggggh, I don’t know how much more I can take!” Red glances at you before pausing the game.

“Well, what’s stopping ya from just letting one of em win?” Red asks, half wondering why you’ve held out this long and half surprised you DID hold out for this long. You pause before moving your head to stare at him.

“I’m… not sure honestly, maybe… because I don’t want one of them getting hurt?” Red hums, knowing how competitive and how emotional those two could get.

“Well, why not just end the whole bet by asking em both out?” You blink and rise from the bed.

“That’s… a really good idea, why didn’t I think of that?!” Red chuckles.

“And for the icing on the cake, giving em a taste of their own medicine,” You smirk.

“Once again, an amazing idea! Thanks Red!” You exclaim, getting off his bed and speed walking to the door.

“Knock em dead!” Red calls after you, causing you to roll your eyes as you leave the skeleton household and into your own to plan.

________________

You gathered the two skeletons in your living room and stood in front of them as you gathered your courage.

“Okay,” You start, getting the skeleton's attention.

“I’m aware of the bet you two have, and I’m not mad about it, it’s just…” The skeletons look at you expectantly, anxious thoughts ebbing their mind. You take a deep breath and continue.

“I’m grateful you two feel this way for me but I couldn’t just choose one, so would it be alright if we all go on a date?” You ask, Blue and Nox look surprised and glance at one another before returning their gaze to you.

“Of course!” Blue exclaims.

“I can work with that,” Nox comments, you smile brightly.

“Th-That’s great! Is it alright if we go on that date now?” Another glance is shared by the skeletons.

“Sure!”

“I don’t mind,” You smile again and gently take each of their hands and lead them outside of the home and towards the park.

“I’m glad I can spend the day with my two favorite skeletons!” You comment happily as you continue to lead them. Unbeknownst to you, both of them were blushing lightly.

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