#so i guess it was bound to be fucking tedious

[chellyfishing]

if you want to read bg3 fic i sure hope you like astarion bc that’s all there fucking is

#it’s fine i’m sure YOUR angsty sexy take is different #i filtered so many things out and it was still just one (1) man #can i have some fic with him in it that isn’t ABOUT him #i resisted making this post for like half an hour but i’m so fucking agitated and cranky #to be clear: people can write whatever they want and quite obviously i am in the minority here #but fuck. why is fandom ALWAYS like this. cries i’m so BORED #then again this is the same fandom that thinks orin is interesting #so i guess it was bound to be fucking tedious #deep thoughts #ignore this post i’m in a bad mood and need to complain on the internet #anyway i might write my thing once i finish this run cause i haven’t seen all the endgame stuff #and i want to include that #i’m almost done but i am on. the foundry. fuck. #go make some fucking herbal tea self

[green-ray-blog1]

Dagger being a weird white mage

Back when I played FF9 for the first and second time, I was annoyed at how Dagger's a pretty clearly inferior white mage compared to Eiko. Eiko gets full life, esuna, dispel and holy, all awesome spells that Dagger just can't learn. I guess the idea is that Dagger has the more offensive summons but even then it's not like Eiko's summons are bad, and her final one is pretty op.

But replaying the game again, some of that is making sense to me. Dagger's pretty cool, really, and she's kind of a mess.

Like okay, the trope of the white mage who actually kicks grown men's asses appears in other Final Fantasy games. Aerith roughs up some dudes in Don Corneo's house, and I'm pretty sure I remember Yuna knocking out some goons offscreen in FFX. Dagger doesn't seem to hit the same notes, though.

I don't think she ever physically overwhelms another character during the game, which doesn't stop her from jumping from towers or ditching half of the party when they don't want to take her along. She also doesn't have the same kind of enthusiasm about her that the other two try to project. When I used to play FF9, I didn't pay enough attention to her name. She was just Garnet with a fake name, but it's more than that. Aerith and Yuna want/try to be world saviors, but Garnet, for half the game mostly wants to save her mother, and it doesn't go well. I think she feels overwhelmed by Brahne's dedication to go commit worse and worse crimes. So she needs to become something more than the princess bound by her social role. She needs to become something dangerous, like a dagger. Someone who will poison the fuck out of her buddies and run ahead if they don't take her to the frontline. Obviously, Zidane's into that edgy shit, I mean look at Blank (lots of potential slash I previously had no clue about with this one btw).

Dagger's also kind of entitled, for a while ? Which, duh, she's royalty. There's the whole poisoning incident, of course. But during said incident, she doesn't poison Steiner because she knows he'll do what she says, even if he might protest at first. Worse case she can just put her foot down and shut him up. She really does take Steiner for granted. And again, what I find really cool is that it ends up being pretty subtly written (maybe in part because it's often played for laughs but not just that). Steiner doesn't mind being taken for granted. It gives him purpose, even when it's tedious as fuck. It's interesting that they're never really that close and their relationship is mostly a power dynamic.

The first trip to Treno might have lots of layers. Both Dagger and Steiner are having some personal crises. Dagger gets really into the whole plot to rob someone to save Blank (she gets to be dangerous and edgy and rub elbows with bandits, and she doesn't even need Zidane anymore hah), which is a sidetrack from saving her mother, but it does feel right too (and at least that one is successful). Steiner keeps trying to convince himself that Queen Brahne must be right and he shouldn't think too hard about her motives, but gets stung by Baku calling him out for having no thoughts of his own. In French, he asks himself "Am I a puppet?", which feels more direct than the english version. And yeah, dude, maybe you are ? You're also being roped into all sorts of business you wouldn't do because you're at Dagger's beck and call. So when they're back in Alexandria, when he finally opposes Brahne, shortly after, he also decides to stop following her to stay and fight with Freya and Beatrix. In retrospect, maybe that was a well earned vacation for the guy.

But yeah, all in all, maybe I shouldn't be surprised Dagger isn't an S tier white mage, and is more into the big damage summons, including the horrific robot from another planet with a completely excessive animation that does darkness damage.

#ff9 #garnet ff9 #dagger ff9 #who would have guessed that the girl who names herself after a knife would be kind of edgy #hey zidane can you pass me your stabby weapon for a bit i want to name myself after it #Dagger/Zidane #otp

[2xplusungood]

Some Morrowind thoughts now that I've gotten around to playing it

I love the dichotomy of Early Game being somewhat difficult vs becoming a god of this world shaping it to your whims. It really gives you an appreciation for when you manage to break the game becuase it doesn't just feel like making an already manageable game even easier but instead meeting that challenge the game presents you in a way that makes you feel clever. Like the game straight up feels FUCKING AWFUL until you get your stats up so you actually FEEL the difference from going from slow running and jump basically being useless to VVardenfell's fastest boy who can leap over buildings in a single bound

Speaking of breaking the game, there are an incredible amounts of ways to do so and there are PLENTY of options. Wanna raise your intellect to 60x the stat cap? You can by stacking potions. Wanna make even stronger potions? Well INT affects potion strength and there are potions that raise int. Put two and two together. Low on health/stamina/magicka? Press T as long as you aren't in a town or near enemies and save the potions for combat.

I am incredibly sad what happened to the Alteration school in later entries. Alteration let you influence the world around you including your own body. Open locks, shield yourself, lighten your carryweight, make someone elses carryweight heavier, Water Breathing, becoming jesus and walking on water, levitate, use telekinesis to increase your interaction distance (which is really helpful if you wanna grab something from a position where you are hidden and increase your jump height to ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS AMOUNTS, which combined with a high acrobatics to substantially lessen fall damage makes for the most fun way to traverse and even makes navigating Vivec City much more fun. In Skyrim however, its the most boring class of magic in the game. Yeah paralyze is really funny to cast on people, but A. Telekinesis is basically just the gravity gun from half life and rendered almost completely useless by the ability to just move things around B. Transmute is... neat I guess and can be really useful for leveling smithing but its really tedious if you have a lot of ore to transmute C. Equilibrium is great for leveling restoration but not much else since theres not a lot of situations where it would be good to trade some health for emergency mana (Its a shame its not in Oblivion as it would be a GODSEND for those born under the Atronach sign who don't regen magicka naturally) D. I can kind of see what they were going for with Oak/Stone/Iron/Ebony/Dragonflesh to give a defensive option to those who perfer wearing robes over armor but "Activate ability to temporarily receive less damage" never really feels particularly fun or interesting

Speaking of magic, it really does feel like a core part of the game and I dont think NEARLY the amount of fun I did playing Morrowind if I avoided it

Enchanting is amazing system in Morrowind. Activated Effects, Constant Effects, effects on hit allows for SO much creativity without interfering with spellcasting. After all, why ever cast levitation if you can make a ring with a constant effect of levitation you can pop on and off whenever? The answer is that it is FUCKING EXPENSIVE to have an enchanter make you one or EXTREMELY risky to make it yourself. This sounds like a bad thing but really either A. It provides a valuable money sink so you're never just hoarding a shitton of gold with nothing substantial to spend it on or B. You figure out how to substantially shift the odds in your favor. I really cannot stress how much a GOOD money sink that has substantial rewards in return really adds to keeping the player engaged. Theres doing quests and exploration for their own sake and theres doing quests and exploration while keeping in the back of your mind that there is an 80,000 gold enchantment you are slowly working for so you ALWAYS want to come out of dungeons with as much loot as possible

Spellcrafting fills a similar role, except its for your magic stats rather than your gold. You can make superpowerful spells but you need a superpowerful amount of magicka to actually cast them. This works IN TANDEM with the enchanting system as it can be a great way to boost your stats high enough to cast "Angry Ron's Penile Explosion" (Thank you for letting me name my spells)

Alchemy is kind of tedious (Which thankfully got better in Oblivion and Skyrim, UI-wise) but offers a great way to both make money and temporarily boost your stats, as well as keeping you alive. I also like the little bit of flavor of restore fatigue ingredients usually just being various foods

I've heard mixed things about the fatigue system in general but as much as I hated it early game I sort of grew to enjoy it. I've never really enjoyed "survival" type mods where you have to eat drink and sleep but I feel like the fatigue system is a really good balance between that and just normal regenerating stamina. Rather than outright say "you need to perform bodily functions regularly or suffer for it" It gives you an organic push to take a short rest between large encounters or keep a couple restore fatigue potions on you or maybe take things slowly and walk through the dungeon instead of sprinting everywhere or maybe dont jump unless you need to, all with just a little green bar that says "This is how effective you'll be at everything you do"

The "Fast travel" system is also a GREAT way of getting around thats a good middle ground between "Travel to any location on the map" and the tedium that is walking across the map and back several times over to beat a single quest. By having multiple types of travel, each with their own places they can go, it adds that small amount of required planning in quickly traveling from Point A to Point B to keep it engaging. Stilt striders can take you to landlocked towns while boats can take you to just about any town reachable by water. The mages guild will teleport you to other locations of the mages guild. Bigger cities will have more travel options while smaller towns will have few, if any. Even then you have the two intervention spells which will take you to either the nearest Imperial Cult or Temple which you can CHAIN together. Wanna reach ebonheart extremely quickly? Travel by silt strider, boat or mage guild to vivec, cast Alsimi intervention to teleport to the south end of vivec then divine intervention and BOOM. You're in ebonheart. On TOP of all these options you also have Mark and Recall. Mark will set a place and recall will take you there, which is great for both a quick option to get to your player home OR back to the area you need to return to multiple times over the course of a questline (Looking at you Morag Tong)

10. One of the first NPCs you meet is Caius Casodes. He is a high ranking member of a secret organization of spies for Uriel Septim VII called the Blades and he acts as your sort of handler for most of the main questline. He is a shirtless man in a dingy apartment, he LOVES moon sugar and skooma and basically tells you to fuck off and do the whole "open world" thing for a while multiple times to "give him time to think" which Im pretty sure just means getting blasted. 10/10 character I love him

11. Ahnassi is just a gem. Shes friendly, gives good advice and leads (As well as a discount for the best acrobatics trainer in the game) She has a former partner who's got a skooma addiction who you help and its all very sweet. As you go out of your way to perform various acts of kindness her gratitude PALPABLE and will literally offer you the clothes off her back. Just such a kind, lovable character that makes you GENUINELY wanna help her and give her gifts.

12. I dont really like Crassius Curio (part of it is just the stank of 2003-era homophobia as a character) or anyone who uses their position of power to leverage political favors in exchange for sexual/romatic favors but it is REALLY funny that he actually is the one that wrote The Lusty Argonian Maid and the guy in it is named "Crantius Colto"

Overall Thoughts: Great Game, highly recommend if you dont mind a lot of reading and a steep learning curve that suddenly plummets downward as you obtain godlike power

#morrowind #the elder scrolls

[almoststedytimetravel]

After finally finishing Raincode I kinda want to just get my thoughts on the game out; going chapter by chapter because holy shit it's a lot and I have so many thoughts.

Spoilers under the cut

Chapter 0

Looking back this case was a really solid start and really help set the tone and how ruthless Amaterasu corp is. Fake Zilch was a great killer though in hind sight there are a few plot holes. Specifically with the Zilch homunculi we find in the factory and him being on the train he would be exposed to sunlight. Though with the limited size to the windows and Zilch's clothes covering most of his body I can buy him not having stepped in direct sunlight.

Also the Doyleist vs. Watsonian reason for the bodies being burned is pretty interesting. Zilch needed to make Aphex look unrecognisable and Kodaka needed there to be no large amount of blood to be spilled so as to not tip the player off about the pink blood. Simple mystery that does a good job introducing the game mechanics.

Also shows how early everything is being set up, with Yuma's blood on the door being red.

Chapter 1

First off Helara, excellent companion. What's her gender? Detective. What's in her pants? A picture of a cat. Do you want to know what's not in her pants? the 5,000,000 shien you owe her. Her ability is pretty interesting and I love how its mechanics are incorporated into solving the mystery, with the tipped over paint can.

Certain locked rooms were easier to solve than others. Personally I found the gallery room the most difficult to do and it's the only one I actively needed the game to spell out for me.

I like how each murder pretty well telegraphs how each room was done and how it eliminates each church goer.

I was able to call the gallery murder being a copy cat. I think what tipped me off was the paintings being used instead of the dolls.

In this case I saw the first corpse and thought "Wow, so glad the wacky Danganrompa bright pink blood has been brought back! I guess the blood being red was just to show it had dried, or a mistake that slipped through."

...

"Does she know?"

Chapter 2

Kurumi you will always be famous, to me. God speed to you and the sequel that was set up for you at the end. "I may be immortal but I'm not that patient." Iconic. Same voice actor as Framme fire emblem. I love her.

Generally I don't tend to like the token pervert characters but Desuhiko has the cringefail charm that I love. Khoi Dao gives an excellent performance and really made me like Desuhiko in spite of my dislike of his archetype.

Now the case itself was really good. Kurune, Yoshiko, and Waruna all working together to kill Karen because she killed Aiko and got away with it was excellent. You can really see Kodaka is enjoying not being bound by the restrictions of the killing game. (Almost) Every mystery in this game could not have been pulled off in a Danganrompa style killing game, it's really great.

The ending of this case where we kill three high school students did leave a bad taste in my mouth and I had to put the game down for about a week. Though at least it did feel like something of a mercy kill.

Chapter 3

As usual chapter three is the worst one. Easily the weakest case and it's not even a close. The murder method feels like one that could be done in a killing game, like they needed filler so they pulled out a draft of a case where Asahina was the culprit and tweaked it a little bit to fit the setting.

It does not help that it is really poorly paced (Ironic considering the abilities of your companion) running around planting the bombs, then immediately going to diffuse them with a zero escape style mini game, combined with the fuck ton of qte's in this chapter made it really tedious.

Icardi was the worst culprit with the worst motive and the two peace keepers from this chapter were so forgettable that I don't remember their names.

Sucks even harder that his plan would have never worked since he would have left Kanai ward and immediately gone berserk.

Fubuki was easily the bright spot in this case. Her powers being so broken and that being what helped her get into Kanai ward in the first place was pretty interesting. her knowing that her powers are a crutch and what she thinks gives her value on the team was very interesting. I loved her clashing with Shinigami in the labyrinth, carrying this chapter on her god damn shoulders.

Chapter 4

Crying in the club about this one. Yakou you're my sad little meow meow who did everything wrong.

Yakou tanking the poison gas and relying on the detectives' fortes to get past the security and into the doctor's lab was such an inspired choice. I pretty quickly deduced that the killer had just face tanked the gas. Of course because Yakou was already at deaths door I began to go into the denial stage. Telling myself that the gas needed half an hour to take effect but the security logs said the system was turned off an hour prior to Yuma obtaining the logs.

Vivia going after Yuma with a box cutter in the mystery labyrinth as Yakou was just unresponsive behind them... I'm surprised I was able to see my switch screen through all of the tears.

I thought I couldn't hate Yomi more after what he did to Electro. I was wrong. Seeing Vivia get angry at Yomi when we were released from the labyrinth. He should have shanked Yomi with the box cutter.

Chapter 5

Another chapter with whack ass pacing though it is a final case so that's pretty common.

Should've known the bodies were fake were Halara supposedly dies second when it would obviously be Vivia. (Desuhiko is still dying first). Coalescence being used to mimic the handwriting of the other master detectives was pretty neat and while being something we weren't shown it makes sense as something it can do.

The pink blood. Oh boy the pink blood. I don't think I'm ever going to shut up about this. Yuma yelling "Blood being pink is obviously strange!" left me staring at the screen, slack jawed. What a twist that could only hit with the three Danganrompa behind it. So excellent, I'll forgive all this cases' pacing issues on that twist alone.

Getting chased through the abandoned village by past victims and culprits was really frightening. Waruna, Kurune, and Yoshiko jumping Kurumi was really horrific. Fink the Slaughter artist being dead felt a little anti-climactic. Yakou giving Yuma the disk was a really great moment.

Shinigami's goodbye was really emotional. I loved her very unserious attitude so her being serious, telling Yuma how much he means to her was really good.

over all a solid 7.5/10. Without chapter three, 9/10. really good game.

#raincode #mdarc #This game is very much not Danganrompa but it could not exist without it #Yakou being the sterotypical hardboiled detective but none that gets shown was great #dead wife check #chain smoking check #taking on small scale cases until one big one reaches him check #but he's a goofy little wet cat of a man who shares a va with Owain so I cannot take him seriously #love him btw

[gorematchala]

I think my final verdict on FFXV is that it sucks really bad but, as a movie, I like watching it suck cuz theres good stuff in there, and its just kinda fascinating overall

The game has absolutely no value to me in terms of actual gameplay. It's got bad combat on top of tedious open world bullshit. Don't care. But as movies on youtube...

Kingsglaive is actually kinda good, but that may be biased by the fact that Aaron Paul is the lead, and also that I watched it immediately after Advent Children which is the worst garbage ever. The story has two plot threads that proceed in a logical manner and then converge at the 70% mark and resolve in a satisfying conclusion. Thats all I can ask of a film. Advent Children sucks so bad I still can't believe it after 48 entire hours

The main game movie is mostly inoffensive even though it only kinda makes sense? It's totally fine once you get what's happening, but there isn't enough information in there. But I like Noctis, and Ardyn is the best. There are other characters as well

Episode Gladiolus is nothing

Episode Prompto was shockingly bad, like holy fuck. The shit opens on 3 minutes of walking in the snow, followed by Metal Gear, then Prompto has a meltdown because he finds out he was grown in a tube, which doesnt really seem to do anything for him. Like he isn't extra strong as a result or anything. So he tries to burn his barcode off and hes screaming and crying in the snow while I'm sitting here remembering how little of a fuck Noctis and them give when he tells them. Like all this shit happens and hes freaking out and they go yeah who cares. Then he spends 25 minutes shooting an RE5 turret at a big worm. Awful

Episode Ignis was kinda cool. I like Ravus well enough and Ignis is at least capable and good at what he does if nothing else. I think I came around on him despite his britishness because Prompto is annoying and Gladio is kind of an asshole for no reason randomly. And the realest moment in the whole base game is the two of them arguing over whether or not Ignis should be allowed to travel with them like he isn't there listening to them. That and Gladio dealing with his own frustration about everything that happened at Altissia by yelling at Noctis for being sad while Ignis is blind. Basically using Ignis's situation as justification to vent on someone. In the middle of this weird chopped up shell of a plot they take a moment to very accurately portray how the people around someone will often make their newfound disability about them. It was neat

Episode Ardyn was both the best and worst part of the whole plot. It justifies his motivation and shows you exactly how we got where we did, but at the same time, it sucks when Bahamut explains that none of this matters because it was preordained by fate. It made me feel for Ardyn because he almost existed outside that fate but was still bound by it. Cursed to spend his whole life waiting for Noctis to be born and kill him, just because that's the hand he was dealt by his own brother. Or was it his brother? Was it fate? Where did the plague come from? Why does melting people give him their memories? Why can he sometimes stop time? Who decided upon this prophecy? Why was Ardyn made the embodiment of darkness? Why did killing him solve the problem?

The whole thing is stupid when you view it as a series of events that happen just because they have to. But there's still something about it that makes me want to like it. Maybe it's just the ghost of Versus XIII. The promise of spending the game walking around that city instead of driving through the desert. Idk. But at the end of the day, Noctis is really good in Theatrhythm and he's fun to play as in Tekken, so I guess it was all worth it

[midnapanda]

I've decided I hate Sky: Children of the Light :)

#FUCK this game. #i hate the golden wasteland. #if youre spotted by the shrimp you just lose. levels. #i HATE that its designed in a way that you lose levels instead of a form pf health #so you have to go BACKTRACK searching AIMLESSLY for whichever winged lights youre missing #its fucking annoying. every time im caught by a shrimp dragon i just go 'i guess im done playing today' #because i dont wanna go backtracking for hours #some of the winged lights are so stupid hard or tedious to get too. like the trial ones? #dont get me started on how this game handles platforming #if it sense ground that you can jump to itll gravitate your character toward it #so jumping into holes is difficult. jumping in a PRECISE way is difficult. #i know the game is free to play. i was introduced to it by my lil sis #i know its also online so its bound to have some jank #but god its such an upsetting experience sometimes #rant

[necros-writing-stuff]

Saw that abo you did where leighton is made to watch Eden wreck PC 👀 good stuff, good stuff. Going along with the thought that lil bitch leighton went to school with Eden and Bailey, and they bullied the shit outta him, perhaps could we get:

Eden and Bailey being told by the PC they share, crying their little eyes out, about leighton forcing all of the students to let him take nudes of them. That after they ran from the class room, he forced them to detention and spanked them.

Protective/possessive behavior is so fucking hot and those two ooze it (when bailey fucking wants to the twa-)

This is straight up me writing Leighton getting beat so Leighton hate gang come get y'all juice I guess

The school is quiet as Leighton steps out back to his car, students eager to disappear for the weekend. The end of term was approaching, leaving the man with stacks of paperwork that were rather stressful. Tedious, easy, but stressful.

What he least expects is seeing Bailey and Eden stood waiting for him - they both look as rugged as they always have. Bailey with his leaner muscles and tattoos, cigarette smoke rising as he takes a drag. Eden in his old, patched clothes, larger frame permanently adorned with a frown. It brings back uncomfortable memories of the two tormenting him in this very school.

"What do you two want?" Leighton pauses, clutching his work bag a little tight. Eden lives out in the woods like some feral animal now, why was he in town? Bailey could be here for an orphan, but the other? Strange.

The caretaker drops his cigarette, using the tip of his shoe to crush the bud. "You've been pushing you weight where we don't want it, Toad. Need a word."

Leighton flinches hearing the old nickname. Toad. Because he'd been so scared of getting beaten by these two he'd sweat when they were around, looking 'slimy'. But he was an adult now. So he stood composed, smoothing his expensive suit down and nodding.

"Very well. Please, my office," he keeps his voice calm and level. What could it be? As far as he's aware, everything has been business as usual? Eden glaring at the back of his head sure isn't helping. Dear God, are those more scars? What a brute.

Stepping into his office, he keeps the door open for the men to step through. Politeness, poise. Civility. This doesn't have to be like it used to be, Leighton ending up limping home, abdomen covered in bruises from their fists.

The door closes and Leighton's heart spikes because one of them grabs him from behind. It's Bailey, roughly pinning his arms and pulling on his neatly styled hair. Before he can yell out, Eden pulls back his fist, aiming straight for his gut and making him double over, air knocked form his lungs - and he's manhandled into his seat.

Struggle as hard as he wants, Leighton can't break free of their grips, can't stop regressing in his head to the scared little boy he used to be. Even as his arms are bound. He's sweating again, isn't he?

"Password," Bailey demands, crouching down so he can look up into panicked green eyes.

Leighton stutters it out, shame filling him at how easy he gave in. He was past this, he was an adult, a successful adult, and these two were still just horrible bullies that were here to ruin and torment him. It's not fair, it's not!

The tapping of a keyboard is interrupted with the crack of his jaw being hit with a large fist. Eden, again. The man hadn't said anything, and to be honest he hoped he stayed quiet. When the man did speak, it was mostly to deal threats that he had rarely lied about.

"Where do you keep your little photography collection? And you best give us all of them, or we'll strip you and tie you to the gate like we used to. Pretty sure I saw that Whitney kid smoking out there just now, think they'd like to have some fun time with dear old teacher?" Bailey's words make his blood freeze in his veins. Anything but that. Anything but letting Whitney have a way to abuse him

"... File called 'decorative ideas'," Leighton wheezes out, still trying to get his breath back from the punch. No one gave a shit about the decor of the school, no one would bother to check the real contents.

Bailey hums, clicking around until the file appears. As the computer whirrs, images of students in debauched positions, lewd poses and sometimes tearful faces load in. Eden swears when one set in particular loads.

"They weren't lying," the gruff man seethes, fists clenching in a way that makes Leighton nauseous. It was just that pretty one, the one with the good grades. The prudish one he'd had to blackmail to get those racy photos of them covered in suds washing his car.

The ones of you bent over his lap, ass red-raw were the best. You shouldn't have called him a dirty old pervert, should have just bent over and let him get a nice shot of your hole while you cleaned.

Bailey starts deleting the images, tutting as he clicks and drags. "You see, Toad, this one here is ours," he pauses on an image of you covering your naked body with your hands, refusing to look in the camera. Leighton wants to vomit. He knew you were an orphan, but so had plenty of the others. What would make you different? Unless-

Another punch, this time from the tattooed man, and there's no break in between as both men begin pummeling into his bound, helpless body. Pain blooms in his ribs, jaw, browbone - and there's a kidney shot in there, if he's not mistaken.

He hacks up a ball of spit, a little blood within the mix, attempting to suck in air. He can't breath, can't defend himself, can only take the onslaught. Can only start to numb as he remembers being used like this as a child. As their personal punching bag.

Bitterness wells up in his chest. He had thought he had changed in his maturity. Turns out he was wrong.

"Are those the only ones?" Eden grasps him by the hair, pulling his head back in a way that strains his neck.

It's hard to wheeze out the yes, but he is let go, flopping in his chair like a rag doll. Breathing, that's all he has to focus on. Deep one in, hold for a few seconds, and release. Stay calm. Don't piss yourself like you used to.

Eden starts rifling around the draws of his office as Bailey ensures the pictures are wiped from the computer, a little slow and clumsy. Stupid fuck barely even knows how to use modern technology, it seems, but he knows enough to find the proper way to get rid of it all.

Eden returns with his camera. His expensive, lovely camera, placing it on the desk before getting a hammer from his inside pocket.

"N-no!" Leighton yells out in vain as the hammer smashes down, mangling the expensive equipment. Eden doesn't stop at one, continuously wrecking the device with a personal vendetta. Even the memory card within was shattered.

When he's done, the hunter turns back towards the headmaster, still bound to his own chair. He's not gentle as he lifts his chin with the claw of the hammer.

"You even look at them again and we'll come back and I'll shove this in your fucking eye socket, do you understand?"

Leighton nods, determined to keep eye contact as he does so. He has cowered enough, he could try to save some face now by not begging or crying.

The binds start coming loose, but Leighton can't move. Can only wilt, mind beginning to disassociate. He thinks he hears the two men moving to the door. Thinks he hears the caretaker calk back "Later, Toad," before the door slams shut.

The clock on his wall is unreasonably loud, now he's alone.

#Eden the Lonely #Bailey the Caretaker #Leighton the Headmaster #spill your guts #anonymous

[wizisbored]

uhh absolutely rad new au, very messed up in the worst ways/pos

kay so questions uhhh whats it like for lydia besides just "shitty"

has anyone, like say tina or any ghost with common sense, go hey wait no that's illegal and tried to rescue lydia?

hell yea fucked up shit! love fucking shit up. once again this au is staying behind its warnings

content warnings: kidnapping, dehumanisation, lotta blood, exploitation, all this is happening to a teenager

it is pretty shitty, yeah! shes living wherever it is beetlejuice keeps all of his human junk, maybe some sort of hellish self storage place i havent decided, but shes kept in amongst all his crap. most of the time her wrists and/or ankles are bound and are usually tethered to her bed, which is somewhere between a gym mat and a dog bed and just a little too small. on top of how battered and worn it is already beetlejuice cuts holes in it to tie ropes and it ends up pretty bloodstained. it is not comfy. he leaves a cup of water and a food bowl next to her but shes fed more on an 'every so often' basis than regular intervals and she sometimes has to remind him when she hasnt been fed in a while. whenever she gets the chance (which is rare) lydia digs herself fresh clothes out of beetlejuice's human junk stash - well i say fresh, nothings really fresh in there, but theyre marginally clearner and she has to take what she can get.

and then, of course theres the bleeds. the first few times he just cuts her hands or arms and holds the wound out over a jar for a while. it hurts a lot, he cuts her deep and then pulls on the skin to keep the wound open, and tells her off for complaining because holding her still for that long is already tedious without her whining. he almost kills her the first time, ignores her telling him hes taking too much when she starts getting dizzy and only realises he needs to stop when she goes limp and unresponsive. eventually he puts the tubing and valve wheels in her arms instead, and even though it stops the bleeds from hurting she hates it. even more than before it just feels like shes been reduced to 'thing that makes blood'. beetlejuice doesnt have a lot of self restraint and so the bleeds are never small, more often than not she ends up lightheaded and weak and is just left to recover alone. he generally just guesses when shes strong enough to be bled again and ignores her when she tells him she isnt, so shes in a perpetual state of being bled and weakened, having to just lie there and recover, and then just when shes beggining to feel better beetlejuice is hooking bottles up to her arms again. and then theres the occasional premature or overlong bleed that makes her think its going to be the one to finish her off.

shes fucking mad about this, of course. not just that hes bleeding her but that hes profiting off it, and sometimes shell try to smash or spill the bottles or yank the tube out of the valve on her arm. if she cant actually turn the valve wheel pulling the tube out wont stop her bleeding, but at least he cant sell the blood when its just soaking into her matress. that pisses him off, of course, and only leads to more bleeding and poor treatment, but shes determined to fight back.

when shes strong enough - and sometimes when she isnt - beetlejuice takes her to sell junk and blood on the black market (which is a literal market). partially so he can keep an eye on her, partially for advertising. only tiny little upside is that he tasks her with finding something marginally presentable to wear in amongst the stash of human stuff, and though the dress he kidnapped her in is bloodied she manages to find a nice black dress shirt she likes. she does not like being at the market though. shes treated like some sort of exotic beast, people keep staring. shes had to snap at people that this is not a petting zoo. beetlejuice then offered to let them poke her with a stick for a small fee. a few people have even asked if shes for sale, and they were told to get their own breather. she continues her campaign to reduce beetlejuice's profits while at the market, calling him out on lies and knocking things over. if she smashes blood bottles hell often bleed her right then and there to replace it. sometimes he offers to draw customers fresh vials on the spot. she has to be carried home sometimes.

and that leads into your second question. in this au, the maitlands are in the netherworld, but since theyre still recently deceased theyre not very familiar with the culture. somehow they stumble onto the black market and think 'aw a market how interesting!! this will be nice to explore :)'. and then, as they are beginning to realise that they may have misjudged the tone of this event, they come across this pale, clamy kid tied to one of the stalls. the demon with her waves away their questions with 'its fine i have a breather permit' (the permit is fake) and asks if they want a free sample while screwing a small vial into the valve sticking out of the kid's arm. they do not want a free sample. they are horrified. but they dont know what they can do for this poor girl.

#snake oil au #as you can probably tell. many thoughts head full

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 16.1)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8) (GUESS WHAT? IT AIN’T SATURDAY TODAY! LMAO)

CHAPTER 16

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: The best part has finally come to an end, life aren’t all smiles and rainbows. Now, here comes the negativity that will surely eat you whole with the life you have with the witcher. 

Warnings: Fluff! Kinda’ Dad! Geralt? Slight. Cirilla being such a sweetheart? Jaskier being Jaskier. Mention of blood. Insecure and overthinking reader. Mention of Yennefer and Renfri. 

Words: 8k+

A/N: This should’ve been posted last saturday. But, life happened so here it is. I should’ve been taking a break but I think I’ll have my break next saturday instead. Think of this as if I just gotten late to post this chapter for you, bb’s! Though, there will be no update on June 27 instead! 

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue!

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW. It was the day where Geralt was back on his wild hunt. He'd procrastinated more than he can ever plead for; taking him days with his family was better than having none as the lone witcher would leave with nothing but his horse and sword like the good ol' days.

Other times, he'd have Jaskier in his trips when the bard was too restless to stay and guard Cirilla---it has been two years for doing so---and he would complain about how tedious Geralt would tell his stories about slaughtering such a specific beast. The toubadour wanted to experience and see everything happen before his eyes regardless of his fear for such. 

Which leaves Cuthbert and his family for taking care of the princess. Besides, Geralt thought it would be better that people wouldn't see Cirilla living in their home from time to time, as it can also complicate how she would be found because she didn't need to be.

But, with you around; there has to be somebody that was needed to guard and take care of his child of surprise; leading the preferable options down to you because you knew how a girl works and how their mind moves rather than with Jaskier who always welcomes him home with arguments about nonsense things together with his child of surprise. Complaining how she'd intentionally stomped on his foot because of how she was confined in their home all the darn times till how his cooking was abnormally awful rather than Geralt's.

No matter how uneasy Geralt was with leaving everyone alone, he needed to sacrifice the worries away for his family and choose the safety for the people. Even if it would take him days to bask in his solitude with Roach whom he would have as his silent companion.

The witcher was getting ready for his hunt today. He was checking on stuffs that were utterly important not to forget. Elixirs. Herbs. Equipment. Weapons. Geralt continued to place his things inside his bag before a soft piece of parchment has brushed off his fingertips, making him stop from rummaging inside his bag to snatch it out.

It was the drawing he retrieved from the gallants he'd fought. The broken sketch of you and him together, taken from being scoured by the royal guards because he was needed for a favor that could help the kingdom and its heir.

Fucking people who kept on needing him all the damn time. He silently spewed blasphemy over and over inside his head for making his life more complex than it ever was with Destiny laughing on his side.

Especially that he was finally accepting what it brings to him. You.

He'd taken one last look on the paper before tucking it inside his bag; in a safe place where it wouldn't be destroyed before he'd heard familiar stealthy footsteps padding closer to where he stood beside his horse.

"Geralt,"

Jaskier has taken what the witcher has fetched him to, showing the contents of what laid on his palms before his brooding friend has taken it with a begrudging look that says he woke up on the bad side of the bed today.

Though, the bard was sure he did because of the perception that he needed to leave you alone in his chambers.

Geralt has given him a sharp look which has taken aback Jaskier who seemed to be surprised in such the break of dawn, ceasing his yawn when he'd received such surprising antagonism. He saw the blank stare he'd given him, thoroughly stupefied from whatever sauciness he was trying to give.

Jaskier could even notice how he was more quiet and grumpier than usual first thing in the morning. An unusual state of the witcher when you came along because he was finally talking more after getting some sleep.

"What’s going on, Geralt? Did something happened? I thought friends trust each other! You know you can trust me on this---anything! Is Roach dying? do you need another horse?"

The monster-slayer raised a sassy brow at his friend, looking away as he went on to obtain the items that laid on Jaskier's hands. His hands abnormally heavy as their hands grazed each other; letting the bard know that there was something more to it other than the idea that you would be away from him.

"Should I ask you the same thing?" he deeply grumbled, sounding like a snarl that has caught Jaskier off guard.

His talkative friend appeared to be wounded from his silent grudges that he held out for him. Jaskier couldn't help but scrunch his face in utmost perplexity, feeling aggravated for what attitude Geralt has been giving him when all he had been doing was help him in such a crazy, early hour of the morning.

He won't be taking his attitude when he was still heavy-eyed from trying to get his sleep last night. Reasons why he couldn't was because his room was beside yours and the insatiable witcher. Technically, his suggestions that have been approved sometimes hit him in the head like a boomerang; he didn't think it through that his advice can bring him results where he would suffer.

Geralt and his shitty, overly developed libido.

"But, I don’t have a horse! Why are you---Oh! Ohohoho. You were being sarcastic! I know you---know the differences of those monotones of your verbose timbres. Everybody should applaud me for it," Jaskier scornfully laughed, annoyed by how the witcher has been acting. He held onto his hips, shoulders rolled as his head fell back while he sarcastically laughed, feeling the swift breeze of the morning fog giving him a whiplash as Geralt walked pass him to fix Roach's reigns. The toubadour has turned on his heels to see the subtle swerving of topic by staying silent and minding his own business.

"---I'm utterly not in the mood for your grouchy attitude, Witcher! You sound like you are accusing me of something I shouldn’t have done!"

Roach gave a nicker as she heard two friends share their squabbles; being immature over not sharing what one has a problem over the other.

"You sound guilt-ridden." Geralt bluntly stated, ignoring the bard who has sauntered in front of him with an offended face. His friend seem to be lost at words from where ever his hostility is coming from. 

Jaskier tried thinking it through, cocking his head to the side as he stood before the brooding witcher. He hadn't been too intrusive the past few days nor did he try and get his patience boiling. In all honesty, the bard has set a good amount of space around Geralt when you came in their lives. Reaching to the point that Geralt spends his time with you and Cirilla a lot more than him.

Though, there were the times where Jaskier gets to spend more time with you than Geralt when he was being the complicated mutant he is, sharing banters with you that ends up in a wrestling match because of how he kept on spitting jests that rattles the kindness you ought to have.

The witcher knew Jaskier blushed when he’d accidentally tackled you to the ground from choking him with all your might as you used your arms. The bard’s weight bringing you down when he tried battling with your physical blitz of ripostes. Geralt couldn’t help but purse his lips at that as he watched you wrestle with his annoying bard who had a palpitating heart from being flustered over you. 

Jaskier likes you and he was sure about that.

"W-What---Oh! what a fuckin’ crass you are! What do you even mean?!" he bellowed and stammered, sounding and looking utterly lost. Pretty ocean blue eyes demanding for answers over what grudges he was holding; dramatically raising a hand for thespian gestures.

"Does she look like Booker? No. I suppose not. The cavalier you were fond with was horrible," Geralt sounded too straightforward, never known to sprinkle his words with flowery vernacular that would consider him kind and nice. He gave out a loud, audible sigh; giving him a nonplussed look.

No matter how rude he sounded, his eyes had a look of defiance and understanding. The witcher wasn't mad at the fact that Jaskier has taken a liking towards his midget. No. Geralt knew better than to be enraged over feelings he couldn't control; much so to himself despite of hating the strong feelings he was having over you.

Besides that, Jaskier was his friend. He respected you and Geralt because he knew what was coming forth between the both of you. Like a masochist, even to the point of helping you and the white wolf build the relationship that was bound to happen sooner or later.

Julian Alfred Pankratz just knew you were both endgame from the moment Geralt of Rivia have saved you from those scoundrels. What stated his facts correct was the subtle glimpses that the witcher has been giving you whenever you were around or near their presence; staring when you least expect him to and caring when you needed to be fostered.

Your existence had Geralt thoroughly interested for what and who you were and his friend could visibly see that.

Hence, right at this moment; it was his time to look obvious towards the ivory haired witcher over his one-sided attraction he had for you.

"I should've known, Jaskier. Your gestures aren't exactly subtle."

Geralt shook his head when he lately realized that, clasping a hand over Jaskier's shoulder to give a firm pat; respecting whatever he felt for you. If he wanted to continue those unrequited feelings, it was fine. But, the gesture from him was a silent discussion that he won't be backing down nor stepping away to give the him the opportunity to become what Geralt is already to you.

"I beg your pardon---? Shouldn't you be attacking me with your little tricks already?---I mean, right! Yeah." Jaskier started and stammered at the same time, but was cut off by a terse statement.

"Never leave her side as much as I would."

Geralt gave another light pat to his shoulder before he walked around him, treading over the front door to retrieve two flasks of water and your special Ale that he somehow needed to bring because it reminded of you. The bard trailed behind him, following his footsteps till he was hunched over to get them.

"Geralt, if I may ask---but I hope you wouldn't punch me in the gut after this. The Djinn, obviously was a snake in the lake. What will happen to her now?"

Jaskier just couldn't help but shut his mouth now, does he? he thought at the back of his mind, silently cursing for even bringing it up for him to remember.

The witcher stood up with a long drag of his breath; sounding surfeited by how his mind worked. He was in deep ponder over knowing that his friend had taken the hots for you too, yet he appeared to sound like he was pushing you away soon that he knew Geralt was thoroughly enamored.

"Now, you want her to go." he deadpanned, nettled by what he was suggesting. His eyebrows tightly crossed together from how cretinous it sounded, "---I've been told by a daft of a bard to keep the rat when I was finding a shitty Djinn,"

Geralt couldn't accept what he was hearing. He didn't need to hear this question especially when he was leaving for a hunt. The latter was finally trying to accept what destiny holds out for him, testing what would happen with you around; thinking if it was even a smart decision for him to not challenge fate for the second time around.

It was probably for the better before any sacrifices can happen. Though, why was he even being questioned when he's finally having momentous moments with you?

Geralt gravelly hummed in displeasure, walking away from his friend as he said out loud with a brooding demeanor, moon over by what questioned he received when he'd only done what everybody wanted from him.

"You smell of heartache, rejection and bewilderment, bard."

Jaskier looked utterly wounded from receiving such spiteful words.

"O-Oh! You just didn't quote me that, witcher! You are beyond frank and hilarious when you are being verbally challenged!"

He heavily marched towards Geralt, stopping in front of him with his arms dramatically wide open; indignant of how petty he sounded for being asked over a question that was bound to be inquired soon enough because you were a person who came from another dimension that truly exists.

"I was simply asking what you would do when the rat finally needs to come home from where she rightfully belongs! What will happen to her?!----especially, to you, huh?!"

Geralt's eyes were heavy as it landed on him. Brooding. Crestfallen. Enough to say that the concept of it made him even more dejected and disgruntled. The witcher kept his mouth tightly shut, snapping his eyes away to mule over what he said.

You were already a part of his home besides his original family and Geralt didn't know what to do when one person leaves. Again. He was already done with leaving people and it wasn't surprising when karma hits him back as it'll use you as a pawn.

But, he does not opt for it to happen.

Jaskier brought his arms down to his sides. Baby blue eyes narrowed and his eyebrows pushed together to elicit his worry for his friend despite of the real deal that he also had with you.

"----Because apparently, you are in the risk of heartache when the time comes for her to leave. Isn't that right, Geralt?"

The break of dawn is nigh; dark and light colliding to meet the sun as they were finally reaching daybreak from all the fusses that was happening. He should've left before you even woke up, knowing you would be slightly upset as you weren't used to what life he had nor did you exactly have the vivid idea of everything.

You knew nothing at all and soon enough, Geralt was sure it'll kick him in the butt for not saying anything more about their world and for what it holds.

"You aren't just fond of her anymore. It's beginning to grow more than that," Jaskier honestly convinced his theories and observations, pausing to look at Geralt who has given him a tiny quirk of his brow for what he wanted to say, "---Before you tell me that it's because of something the Djinn has cast upon you both, it must be wrong."

Geralt went completely silent; letting Jaskier share his opinions laid out for him to understand, "You risked to appear in front of that wandering vampire that the queen has kept around---" pause. "---risked everything we had, trying to lay low from everyone because our lives are at stake here,"

Jaskier's weight fell on one foot to the other, raising a hand to point at himself as he continued to conclude, "You can fool anyone but me, Geralt. I can see who she is for you,"

"What do you want me to say, Bard?"

He brought a finger up to the witcher, ceasing his temper from bursting out of nowhere, "All I'm saying is that you shouldn't let her go." pause. "---Keep her, because I know you'll think of the greater good and try to fix everything according to your treacherous and foolish plans. Don't let her leave you---don't make her leave us,"

Geralt cocked his head to the side, forehead creased in confusion for the sudden contrast of his advice. His friend was technically not sounding forthright after asking him what his decision was with the involvement of you.

The latter started again, "Choose---" Brusque and impatient. His harsh, clipped tones cut him off. Geralt stated as a matter of fact, "---the lesser evil. So, I've been told."

He rounded up and dragged his feet away from the bard, walking the path back to his horse with a vexed Jaskier who angrily marched to where he was.

"No, you fool!" he ungraciously exclaimed, standing beside Geralt who took Roach's reigns, tugging at it as he motioned for her that it was time for her to gait, taking heavy steps away from their home while Jaskier followed close.

"---choose the greater good; even if the decision makes you selfish, Geralt."

The witcher looked up at the sky, seeing the beautiful sunny color paving its way to greet them a good morning. It wasn't a good morning to him based on how irritating the start of his day began. He stopped his mosey with an evident sigh, letting Jaskier continue to talk.

"---Stop challenging fate before it's too late---you deserve to be happy---surprising isn't it? From a bard who keeps on blabbing horse shite all the bloody time---well, I'm tired of being with a brooding witcher! If it means to be with a rat forever just for you to stop being cantankerous then I'm accepting the sacrifice!"

The bard's voice echoed across the meadow, combining along with the chirping of birds and the strong breeze of the morning wind. Roach was sniffing Geralt when he'd heard that soft padded footsteps jumping down their stairs in a hurried manner. He'd given Jaskier a disappointed look of his golden peepers; his plan now ruined that he would leave without bidding goodbye because of one bard that could always get under his skin for no reason.

"You were saying, bard?"

You were out of the threshold in no time. Hair in a tangled mess from your previous nightly adventures; along with your painted skin that had witcher bites, looking gauche from wearing Geralt's large tunic that ended on your knees with nothing under and a pout drawn to your face as you ran barefoot along the meadow, wildly screaming his name.

"Geralt-of-fucking-Rivia!" you panted and whined, never believing that he was leaving without any form of goodbyes, "---Don’t you dare step a foot! I swear to God, I will cut your majestic white hair when you walk away and I’ll never make you my special ale anymore!"

The threat was loud enough for him to cease his footsteps; plans of irritating you further would never be a good idea especially that he was leaving for a hunt. 

Palms upon your knee, you stood in front of the frowning witcher wearing his black, leather full gear armor; heaving deep pathetic breaths as your hauled over yourself, raising a hand to stop him from leaving.

When you've finally caught your breath, you promptly straightened your back; letting him see your swollen eyes due to sleeping late with probably morning dew slipping a few off the ends of your eyes. He affectionately caught sight of your upset ones; displeased from his sudden flee.

"How dare you leave when you know I don't wake up early like this?---and leaving without a hug!? Seriously, Geralt?!" you declared, obviously unsettled from being fucked the night after without waking you up to say that he was about to leave you for days in a world you hardly know about?

"---What if I don't get to see you again?"

Questions after questions, you demanded answers from Geralt in which it shall never be received based on how he simply watched you raved, feeling the discomfort and worry of leaving his family alone, "What if you never come back?" it sounded like you were thoroughly agonizing over the idea. You started to fret, toes feeling the moist pasture land over the soles of your feet; bringing you more concern.

"---What if I've been kidnapped or something?!"

Geraly shook his head, mouth in a tight thin line as he interrupted, "You're never leaving the house, midget. You need to take care of Cirilla," he let go of Roach's reigns to place his arms on either side of him, his tone more passive than yours, the words he told held more meaning as if he was giving a lot more trust than he can ever do by letting you handle the responsibility for his child of surprise even just for days.

The point simply tells you that he wasn't treating like you were his possession after admitting his feelings. Geralt was acting like a father and a husband for making you feel that way over supporting what he does for a living.

Just the act itself made you reach out for Geralt's hand, tightly clutching it in both of yours like you didn't want him to leave because you were feeling a little agitated for no reason. Overthinking always does take a toll on you. But often times, these female intuitions you have were correct for whatever bad feelings you were having.

Geralt closed his fist to subtly caress the back of your hand as Jaskier tried to convince and pour ice to your anxiety filled head, "Small rat, those are only predictions. He won't die yet. You're talking to a 100 year old witcher and you're frightened that he wouldn't come back alive?"

You face suddenly morphed into confusion, giving Jaskier a look of puzzlement. 100 years old? Geralt never looked that old to you, maybe his face was pretty much mature than yours but his features tells that he was around 30'ish and above, a lot more older than you nevertheless.

Geralt was still quiet as he continued to brush his thumb over the back of your hand. No objection was received and so, you believed Jaskier's words were true. Yet, his age never made you uneasy nor made you want to run for the hills. He was still Geralt. Your mean looking, soft-hearted witcher. More human than any other man can ever be.

He was yours. Only yours; and you needed to bite your tongue from saying words that would taser your heart from being unanswered.

"Wait---what--- you're a 100 years old?!?!----anyway, Geralt---!!" Geralt only hummed in dissatisfaction for Jaskier's existence in their world.

You peered up at the witcher with a fretful beam, your nose scrunching from feeling too worried for him when he goes out to hunt for his monsters; remembering what stories he told and the scars you've seen on his body. It was making your heart feel heavy, and Geralt wasn't a simpleton to not know nor feel how concerned you were for him.

It's been a long time since he's ever had someone making him feel all sorts of things and the doubled up emotions was making it more uncontrollable for the feelings he had for you.

"In our world, when a person leaves, they always bid their goodbyes!" Geralt drowsily blinked back at you, an utter soft flicker in his eyes that made your heart turn to mush.

Your eyes were hopeful as you asked, "---now, where's mine?"

You've let go of his hand, timidly standing before him with your frail arms on either side; wiggling your bare toes on the grass as you shyly waited for his reaction. Was it too much to ask even just a kiss before he goes?

"Goodbye, midget." the white wolf gravelly rasped, insincerity dripping in his tone because he didn't like bidding goodbyes to people he would still get to see again. The words seemed to be bitter for his taste, his farewell totally feigned because he was never going to leave for good. You've seen a tiny slip of his fangs as he talked and tried to regret what he said.

"---though, I doubt I meant that because I am not leaving for good,"

His reaction made you want to jump in a hole and just talk to yourself instead. Your face fell at that and Jaskier was found silently wincing from what the witcher has interpreted. He would rather bask in his own laughter and silence by himself than be punched by Geralt. So, he did; snorting a chuckle as he continued to eavesdrop and watched you both in a conversation.

Though, the bard's laughter was momentarily ceased when Geralt sent him a scowl.

"Why am I---why are witchers idiots? why are you an idiot sometimes?!"

Jaskier was known to be brave for even deciding to be Geralt's travel companion before; having the freedom to annoy him and never gotten the chance to end up beheaded or served as a meal for monsters. He was the only person who Geralt could handle no matter how he brings problems and for how annoying he can become.

However, at some point; they've gotten into a huge fight and it was intense. Luckily, they were on good terms right now after being separated.

"I second the notion, small rat!" the toubadour jested with a grin; Geralt's lack of knowledge about romantic gestures entertaining him.

You palmed your face in fluster and from the frustration; seeming more difficult to say what you truly wanted because Jaskier was close enough to hear what you could ask. A frown etched your face, grouching before the witcher like a kid that has never been given a big swirling rainbow lollipop.

"I didn't meant that! I meant---I meant---!"

You were stammering as you stood rooted on the ground, glancing up at Geralt while subtly pointing to your pouted lips. He calmly breathed out his frustrations from not understanding you prior before. But, the way his golden eyes lit up, sparkling beneath the sun's rays made you see that he knew what you meant.

His eyes were like diamonds twinkling under the sun and it always leaves you bewitched.

He has given Jaskier another grimace before humming back at you in comprehension, "A buss." His mouth curled in a small smile before you've seen him give you a gesture with his hand; urging you to come closer.

"Come ere'. You should've been more specific, midget."

Geralt slung an arm around your hips, his armor hitting your skin with soft clungs; pulling you closer to him as he leaned down to your height, catching your ajar lips in between his as he puckered to give you the most tender kiss you've received, taking you breath away like how he always does.

He'd kissed the tips of your vermillion, feeling like the other piece of your heart has been put together; making you feel complete. Satisfied. With the sudden life that was given to you when you woke up in the middle of the forest, having no idea how you've been transported.

But, experiencing no obstacles in their world from the time being was making you feel jittery because you knew life didn't work that way. It always leads you into an ocean, making you drown in impediments that can assuredly take the happiness away from you in just a flash.

You knew something was about to happen because fate always leads you in that position. It was like it wanted you to taste what contentment in life would be before snatching it out of your hands.

What would your fate bring you in their world?

Geralt has pulled away in the slightest amount. The tips of your vermillion brushing against his as your heart felt heavier to feel his warmth around you; not liking the concept of your witcher away because of certain reasons you couldn't explain. Faint voices has woken you up from your slumber, forewarning about him leaving you; urging for Geralt not to go which took you to run out of the door in your disheveled state.

He lightly gave you a kiss on the tips of your nose; your mouth frowned at that no matter how your heart slightly fluttered from the soft gesture. Geralt straightened his back as he has given Jaskier a knowing look. Jaskier unconsciously has given him a subtle roll of his eyes, feeling that he was being cocky for showing that he had the freedom to kiss you like that. It was how Geralt could define his repartee and Jaskier swore that he got one point of having the upper hand from the surprising physical display of affection.

"Difficult...to be lovers with a 100 year old witcher, won't you say?" he sent the message to you and sounded like he wanted to sulk but he covered the tone with a feigned cough.

Light hurried footfall came falling behind. The Ashen haired child announced her appearance with a look of nausea; her nose twisted in distaste for what she saw because she had already been watching you three in a distance.

"Ugh, gross." she joked, quickly replacing her abhorrence with a genuine smile, "---Is this how disgusting it is to see a child's parents kiss?"

Everybody turned to look at her, the arm that has snaked around you was now gone as you also looked at the princess with a bewildered expression for what she'd said. Nobody dared to object nor concur to what they've heard, only reticence.

But, not for Jaskier. He'd called Cirilla out for saying those words unexpectedly.

"So, you're calling them your parents now? Mother? Father?---and me?"

The lion cub of Cintra raised a sardonic brow as she tightly crossed her arms over her chest, tone all jest and playful as she commented, "---Which leads to you, bard." she abruptly paused to make it sound more intriguing as she spat, "---a dust mite in the household."

Cirilla took several steps closer to Geralt, making you fall back to give them time together. You've given them both a loving smile to indicate that you loved seeing them interact all the time because of how compassionate he was over his child, such a fatherly thing he appeared to be like, with the princess finding comfort and protection in his arms as she stepped closer to give the witcher a big, bear hug that he certainly didn't think twice to accept.

"Take care, Geralt. More than ever--please do come back,”

You eyed Geralt who was hugging Cirilla, your smile turning wider than ever as you lively jested among the affectionate scene you were seeing from a father and daughter.

"Is this the part where we should give you a group hug?---Okay! Okay! I'm joining!" Cirilla wholly accepted the idea of that and pulled your arm to surround beside her and Geralt; his hand immediately falling on your side, grabbing you closer once you were pulled by the pretty child.

The giggles that he heard from you both has lifted a smile on his brooding, sharp features. He lowly hummed in content before lifting his eyes off his girls in his arms to glance at Jaskier who seemed to suddenly be out of humor.

"Bard." he gruffly called out, amused from how the troubadour was despondent from the whole thing happening. Geralt gave an audible huff, alarming Jaskier because he knew what he was thinking. The witcher was thinking how pathetic he was looking to be so withdrawn over the abrupt embraces under the newly emerging morning sun.

"A dust mite mustn't interfere with a family group hug---oof! This is harassment!"

Jaskier was strongly pulled by Geralt who took no complaints over the embosom he was in, puffing out a frustrated breath as he tried to pull back from the embrace but had no choice when the witcher was using his strength, his hand behind the poet. His slight struggle painless for him. He gave the bard a strong pat on the back that made him cough out on how his lungs hurt from the sudden attack.

His grapples were cut short when you've placed your palm just below Geralt's; giving Jaskier a hug as well. Your touch felt unexpected as the white wolf heard his sudden heart palpitations over the subtle brush of your fingers on his friend.

Geralt knew, but not you.

Jaskier will be fine. If this was the only affectionate gesture that he could get you in, so be it. His unrequited affection will go away slowly, he hoped.

The white wolf's departure haven't lasted for a day till you were low spirited enough to stare out onto the windows, sitting on the stoned sill of the windows. Your viewpoint giving such reverence over how immeasurable their world could offer. From trees to the core of their land certainly looked earthy to you. A facsimile of what your world has been. Do they have oceans too? Noodles? Oh, you definitely wanted noodles for thinking about it.

Kaedwen. It was what their kingdom is called. You've also heard about Nilfgaard. Novigrad. But, you have no idea as to what it looks like rather than the kingdom of Kaedwen that looks no good like how you imagined Switzerland to be if you were talking about how the government treats their people.

Humans were treated poorly and even to the point of selling themselves as slaves; remembering what you have heard and saw while walking around the marketplace back then. They were living in dirt and striving to live with the ones who were abundant, seeing like they could never surpass to be cared for like they were humans.

Their government are treating them like garbage. The medieval movies you've watched were real because you also remember how you were close to being sold by a nobleman because no one knew who you were; having no name or a bloodline that could save you from being abjected.

Except for Geralt who needed to create a bloodbath just for you to live. The act alone has probably given him a violation against their law because of how he'd killed knights or people. Or was it legal for it happen?

You were staring far too long out in the open; waiting for your witcher to come back. What if he was away to probably find the sorceress that could bring you back home? Or better yet, what if he did find Yennefer and comes back choosing her instead because you're too dependent over him. His tiny mortal who always needed saving?

What if he gets tired of you? will he throw you away just like how people treat their lovers in earth when they're bored of each other?

What if you've just existed in their dimension because you were needed to fill the empty gap of Geralt's heart until he finds the sorceress?

You've asked Jaskier about it the past few days ago which has left your heart in a disgruntled mess when you've had answers over his relationships he never tells about.

"So, Yennefer, huh?" you've followed Jaskier out of the house. Nightfall was about to come by soon and Geralt wasn't around as he left with no words. The bard jogged through the end of the meadow till he'd reach the edge of the vast forest, twigs and branches breaking apart from every step when you've trailed behind him with a bothered heart.

"What?---Oh! You're asking me who she is?" Jaskier crouched to pick up blocks of wood that will cover up the whole night full of brisk as darkness was bound to visit soon. You hugged yourself to calm down the goosebumps that rose your skin when the cold hits you,"---Would you want a simplified explanation or a detailed one?"

You thought for a moment before feeling your heart beat ringing in your ears. It was that loud for the anticipation running in your veins for how curious you were about Geralt and a vision of his past, "The simplified one,"

Jaskier continued his rummaging, picking up woods after woods as he nonchalantly tittle-tattled, "She's a strong, fierce sorceress. Nice too because she's helped me out of a curse but also kind of rude to me---I am not biased just because of the whole crow’s feet ordeal---they've shared quests and I've been there to witness how they connect with each other. However, their relationship has lots of ups and downs. They've somehow find each other no matter what happens back in the decades except for now."

Your throat felt like there was some phantom hands trying to choke you; constantly bickering back to tell how strong and powerful she was that they've shared tales and adventures. It was downing over your head about how much of a burden you have been to Geralt, the constant feeling of your relationship with him being the cause of the responsibility he had for taking you because he had no other choice that he was the first person you've encountered.

You were definitely the most useless amongst his prior lovers.

He shrieked when a large bug has flew over his face, flicking them away with his hands as he threw his arms around; trying to hit the bug with a block of wood as he continued to talk, "---Move away, you shite of a bug!---Geralt stopped finding her due to reasons I have no clue about and because he needed to avoid people at all costs---but---oh, gods. It’s quite difficult to explain,"

Jaskier has gathered all the wood he needed. You've reach out to help him carry the blocks but before you could even touch them, he'd stepped away and walked around you as he continue to speak, "Oh, and about Renfri; don't bother nor think about it."

He heard your footfalls following him back to the meadow and even heard you exclaim, "Why?"

"She's reached her demise. Explains why Geralt has a moniker named the 'butcher of Blaviken'. Ended up killing her to save an ignoble child named Masha---Martha---Marilka?! Oh, whatever! He chose that to save the innocent lives of people instead. He never told you that?"

Your felt the needles poking through your chest because of how naive it felt to know nothing about it, also feeling sad about her early demise. You've remembered how Geralt ceased his stories when he'd reach the part where he went to a town named Blaviken; not even bothering to tell you that he has met a woman named Renfri and somehow had such hapless fate between them both.

You felt foolish. Ignorant over a story that was never told. Hence, it was enough to turn that smile upside down as you quietly muttered, "No."

Jaskier stopped walking, waiting for you to catch up as you stood beside him with a frown. He'd given you the twinkle of his pretty baby blue eyes with a sympathetic smile as he uttered, "That's never new, though. It's understandable. I've experienced it too, don't worry. Geralt has always been Geralt. He rarely becomes loquacious,"

You've crossed your arms behind your back, your fingers fidgeting; nails scratching your palm from how you were feeling the tiny prickle of your nerves telling that you weren't in the best part of your brain. The dragging feeling on your chest adding more weight from the start that Jaskier has opened his mouth to chat.

"He does that for anyone, huh? Saving people, I mean."

Jaskier was oblivious about how you've turned your head away to anxiously nibble on your lower lip. He was incognizant over your disappointed mental breakdown of your own self because he went on to simply tell, "No matter how he says that he doesn't want to be involved nor desires for anyone needing him. He still saves them because---"

You immediately cut him off, swallowing the tight knot in your throat, looking at him in the eye with a disheartened gaze, "He doesn't want people needing him?"

"Geralt never liked it. But, guess what brought you here! You! Even had the chance of needing Geralt because you were lost and vulnerable. Was it out of pity? I---I---No. No. Definitely not out...of...pity?"

When the moment he'd seen your eyes, Jaskier was quick to know that he made the wrong choice of words and even the topic to tell. He gave an awkward grin, instantly regretting what he said when you've shifted those eyes to look away.

"Why did they never see each other again?"

The bard has cursed himself repeatedly inside his mind, praying to the gods that you won't be mad at Geralt when he comes home because him and Cirilla didn't need another chance of being surrounded by the silence eating them up when you both are having misunderstandings or issues about each other.

"The witcher has made mistakes. He let her slip away. They've parted after a pretty intense fight."

He'd pretty much simplified everything, sounding like he told it to you in bullet form and left you alone in the middle of the field as he ran back inside. Though, it was too late. You've heard what is needed to know and the discomfort that dropped inside your stomach felt like these feelings you had for Geralt was already serious.

It was definitely too late because you've lately realized that liking him wasn't the correct term. Love felt better and deeper.

Soft knocking has pulled you off your reverie which has made you blink as you swiftly turned your head to see a child whom you also have a soft heart for. This child that has no idea why she was being persecuted---or maybe you were the person who had no thought again as to what reason and purpose does Nilfgaard want from her because honestly, all you could see from her was a child who had nobody left behind for her to console. If it wasn't for Geralt, she probably would have been taken by the people who want her.

You narrowed your gaze and gave her a bit of your scrutiny, angling your head in a way that tells the child you were trying to look through her. Did she have some sort of magic too? Was she a mutant too?

"Mum'?---will it be alright for me to call you that? I--I---I don't want to call you rat or midget," she tried to call you for the third time. Her bright cobalt eyes buoyant as she wend one's way, ceasing before you with a tight-lipped smile.

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?" you softly pardoned with a sweet smile.

The princess couldn't help but bashfully give a beam, conscious if you've said that because you didn't want to be called that way. But, she gave no second doubts and repeated her questions again; anxiously and hopeful to undertake.

"Can I call you Mum'? Everybody has a nickname for you and also considering how you've started taking care of me---with---with Geralt now deeming as your beloved..." she trailed off in the middle of her sentence and you waited for her to continue but it was intentionally left to be dithered.

Heat traveled towards your cheeks. The princess wanted to call you 'Mum'? you silently questioned yourself. Your heart beat was racing from being accepted by his child of surprise, sounding like she wanted you to be her mother and seeing her fret before you made you think that she would gladly be your daughter as long as you were comfortable.

"Beloved? Right! Right! You can call me anything you want, Ciri."

The affirmation made her give you a toothy grin. Cirilla didn't think twice and merrily cajoled with a small hop of her feet that were close against each other, "Great, Mum'! Can you teach me how to bake?---maybe a cake---oh! Or a very scrumptious bread!?"

Your sullen features have been promptly lifted on the spot. You've grasped onto what she wanted, a distraction from how apprehensive she seemed to be like from the way her heels tap on the stone floor and to the way her forehead was slightly creased like she was on pins and needles. The princess was even worried because Geralt wasn't around to guard anyone in the household.

Her wrist was quickly snatched by you, pulling her out of your chambers and running through the hallway, towards down the stairs with heavy, excited thumps.

"Of course! would you like me to teach you how I'd baked blueberry muffins from the other night?"

The lion cub of Cintra hummed in mirth, nodding behind despite of knowing you couldn't see her as you pulled her around. Your eyes scanned the first floor of the house to see Kolby snuffling the front door with Jaskier no where to be seen.

You passed by the newly fixed table; knowing that Geralt ended up fastening back what was ruined. Trying to whisk your head away, you did you best not to feel the warmth spread over your face. Toes were lifted up to the highest as you reached for the door of the cupboards to see the bowls all gone when the last time you remembered; the white wolf has changed the position of plates in a much lower level for your sake.

Jaskier was just intentionally doing it right now and it made your blood boil for his constant teasing.

"I'm going to strangle that bard. I swear to Thor; I hope he hits Jaskier with a lightning---where did he even place all the bowls again?!" you complained more so to yourself as Cirilla was left standing on your side, waiting for your next command.

You've gestured with your hand, making her stay inside the kitchen while you walked away. The Hirikka suddenly howling out of the blue when you jogged towards the front door, stepping out of the threshold as Kolby followed suit.

"Jaskier?!" a loud yell echoed as you called at the top of your voice; seeing no bard anywhere.

Kolby unexpectedly sprinted, running off your side as he turned along the path around the house where the back door lead to.

You groaned out loud, strolling to where the Hirikka went, "Jaskier! Will you please tell me where---Jaskier!"

An ear-piercing shriek left your lips. Heart stopped from beating, your blood running cold as you were filled with panic and fear from seeing Jaskier hunkered down in the middle of chevaliers circling him like he was being tyrannized.

Armored gallants sat on their horses, their helmets taken off their faces which has given you images of what they looked like. A mixture of different ethnicity that you were well aware of back in earth. But, they've shared gazes in their eyes that placed you in a horrified position that tells everything was about to go down and it wasn't just Jaskier hunched on the ground.

When he heard your footsteps, he was pleading that you wouldn't actually visit the back part of the house but seeing Kolby safeguarding as he stood in front of you; thoroughly feral and livid for visitors that weren't invited at all, Jaskier knew all hell was about to break lose.

"A liar, bard." you've heard that voice back in the marketplace, a timbre you didn't wish to hear ever again as it haunts you with memories that he was a mystical being and the person who has stabbed you to bleed.

"The witcher didn't bring his little woman all along," Tybalt's breath fanned your ears, making you hastily step away from the vampire with your eyes all wide from the spine-chilling memory that gets you shunning away. Kolby was rapid enough to slip in between the uncomfortable space that Tybalt has locked you in, all predatory and wild as the movement made you stumble down beside Jaskier.

You've coughed out from being accidentally pushed to the ground, the knights of Kaedwen stepping back to include you in the tyranny of hopeless pleading. The bard's lip was wounded. Broken. Bleeding. Claret colored liquid painting his teeth which tells that they've been bashing him for quite some painful minutes. His doublet untidy and disordered from their constant forceful pulling.

"Rat," he weakly groused, holding onto his battered stomach. Jaskier tightly blinked the dirt out of his eyes as he spitefully spat the blood, wiping the blood off his busted lip with the back of his hand. His golden dagger tightly on his palm as he ceaselessly jested. The words coming out of his lips sounding familiar as you remembered you've said it to him before in the middle of being taken.

"---You had one job."

NO UPDATE FOR THIS UPCOMING JUNE 27, BB’S! I’mma take a break! (Or not because I always end up opening my drafts and try to write lmao) I’ll probably write the future chapters for everyone and so, I won’t get stuck on procrastinating before school starts in about after 2 months. LMAO. I get anxious when I think about this fic being unfinished due to random reasons because I don’t want that. FEEDBACKS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED! (Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you)

Taglist for WOTN: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernaturalhero @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @winter-moons @cheesecakeisapie @silverkitten547 @angelofthor @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum, @stuckupstucky, @shesthelastjedi, @a--1--1--3, @gutfucks​, @raynosaurus-rex

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza​

General taglist: @agniavateira​, @iloveyouyen​, @rahdaleigh​,

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt x you #geralt x reader #witcher geralt #geralt x y/n #muse: geralt #geralt x female reader #geralt of rivia fic #geralt of rivia series #the white wolf #butcher of blaviken #white wolf #geralt of rivia x female reader #geralt of rivia x reader smut #geralt x you smut #the witcher #the witcher fic #witcher au #/reader #jaskier #cirilla of cintra #witcher of the night #seb-owns-these-tatas #geralt #geralt imagine #the witcher fanfiction

[queenlua]

@irandrura said: Wait, isn’t the premise of the Left Behind series, the first thing that happens at the start of the first book, that the Rapture happened? So shouldn’t “THE RAPTURE HAPPENED” be exhibit A in your attempt to convert someone?

irandrura said: Disclaimer: The Rapture is some weird American thing, as a Christian I take no responsibilities for what weird heresies Americans are into.

YEAH, ABOUT THAT.

You’d certainly think that “millions of people miraculously disappear” would be a “I guess the [Evangelicals] were right” moment.  In such a scenario, atheism becomes obviously irrational; anyone with half a brain would be looking into what people wrote about the Rapture or whatever.

Of course, this is a fictional book, so I knew that most people would still reject God, because the book’s whole premise is “small band of persecuted Christians vs the world.”

But I thought that, at least, people would reject God for reasons like: “I think it’s fucked-up that God disappeared so many people I love, and I don’t want to worship a God like that.”  Or: “I get that people disappeared, so that means it’s too late for us; may as well party it up while we can.”  Or: “So many people who thought they were saved didn’t get raptured; it seems like there’s no guarantee this pans out even if I do convert.”  You know, plausible reasons based on even an ounce of understanding human psychology.

(under a cut because long)

Instead, like... Rayford (the dad) visits his local church, and Chloe (the daughter) doesn’t because “I’m just not ready yet.”  When Rayford points out WOW A RAPTURE SURE JUST HAPPENED, she’s like, “Well, I think something weird happened, but this religion stuff is kind of out there, you know?”

What???  Millions of people just disappeared!!!  I do not believe anyone would call religion “out there” after such an event happened, oh my god, what is this author’s theory of mind even.

And all of the reasons for Chloe’s reluctance remind me of—well, of the absolute caricature portraits of unbelief that I was given in my fundie church, growing up.  We needed to badger our friends into coming to church, and not take “I’m just not feeling it” as an answer, because that just meant they were too proud to humble themselves and come to see God’s truth.  Atheists didn’t just have a very different set of priors and way of reasoning about the world; it was their pride and arrogance in their own intelligence that kept them bound to their sinful ways.  That sort of shit.

And these portraits just aren’t... true.  They’re so untrue as to be insulting.

And yet, reading them is honestly a bit fascinating because—I remember what that worldview felt like?

I mean, it never set entirely well with me, which is why I ended up leaving.  But I remember scheming ways to try and get more converts, and being so convinced this was how you saved lives.  I remember thinking, if someone rejects Jesus, that must be ignorance or arrogance, because the church tells me so; there’s never anything like a good or understandable reason to be wary.  (Cringe.)

In this awful, narrow, tedious, solipsistic worldview, I guess it makes sense that an author could write a character who veers away from faith for tepid, vague, weasel-word-y reasons, because if you’ve started with the prior “there’s no comprehensible reason to reject Jesus,” then you probably just can’t imagine various principled reasons someone may say no, even at the end of the world.

This all makes me sound more bitter than I am.  I got out of my fundie church with relatively minimal damage; I appreciated the opportunity to wrestle with faith; it wasn’t all awful.

But it’s sort of horrifying to see what the author believes about people, and morality, vis-á-vis these books, because like: this narrative tells us Rayford is a decent person because he loves his family.  He loves his family so much he straight-up ignores other people who have died in this catastrophe; he doesn’t spare a second thought for the victims of a plane crash or his copilot who died of suicide; at no point does he reach out to anyone else who could be grieving or suffering.

And the narrative tells us Rayford is a decent person because he repeatedly badgers his daughter into converting, and we are told by the narrator that he’s doing this just because he loves her so much, not out of any selfish motivation to see her in heaven.

It’s the Christianity of so many pompous middle-aged southern Baptists in my hometown, and it’s honestly eerie to me.  I remember being so confused, why I got so much stink-eye in my church when I asked why didn’t we spend more time helping people, why were we wasting money on ski trips and glorified vacations to Scotland that were thinly disguised as “mission trips,” that wasn’t what the Bible told us to do at all—and, well, now I’m not confused at all.  I was supposed to just shut up and “love” my family and then enjoy God’s blessings.  Sigh.

#lua reads left behind #...sorry this got long #book be unearthing feels i'd forgotten i had lmao

[fipindustries]

A scene from the webserial Pale

BOY did this took a LOT to do, 40 fucken days, whoooooweeee.

Once again, as always, i strive to outdo myself with every new project, going one step further every day. So this was my attempt to make something look as polished and professional as i can muster on my lonesome.

Animation, sound mixing, editing and backgrounds where all made by me from scratch. below the cut i’ll be sharing al the delicious behind the scenes so you can get an idea of what goes into an animation.

so, this was a lot. let get going

first of course i had to come up with the idea, easy enough, i always said that ideas are a dime a dozen. Now i had been meaning to do an animation based on one of wildbow’s stories for the longest time and trust me, this was originally was going to be about worm buuuuut, guess what, worm is no longer my favourite wildbow serial so there is that, also this scene had just been published when i found my self looing for something to animate and it felt fun and interesting enough that i decided to tackle it.

so once i decided the idea next were the characters, how was i going to make verona and maricica look? how was i going to interpretate their designs, there are limits and concessions one has to make in the name of what is practical to animate so i dedicated some time to figuring out their looks

once i settled on their looks i had to prepare their colors, luckly this is just one scene so i just had to figure out one type of lightning

so the characters are ready, now i can do the storyboard, so i could have a guideline of how i wanted the scene to go

once i had this i would know how many shots i was bound to make, what backgrounds i was going to need, how i wanted the camera to move, all vital things. someone without experience on animation might think that an animator just sits in front of the white canvas and just starts animating but far from that! by the point you actually sit down to animate all the work of figuring out what you are supposed to do should already be done!

after this i made a quick mock up of the background so i could have a place holder over to which animate my characters

and then i made an animatic to know the timing of every shot, how much every action was going to take and how it was all going to workout along with the music

once i had all of this ready that is when i could start animating and that...was a grueling process because it consisted of drawing the key poses (more or less the poses shown on the storyboards) do the inbetweenings, cleaning the lines, then go frame by frame colouring the drawings and then one final pass where i would add the shadows so we could go from this

to this

i would dedicate another post in the future to explain my workflow regarding coloring each frame since i feel i ended coming up with a pretty slick and fast method to paint everything and make it look good. but that is for another day, a day where i dont feel so goddamn exhausted after working on this shit.

so then once after everything was animated it was a matter of downloading the right sound effects from assorted libraries online (as an aside, fuck this part, its the most tedious and frustrating, i would much rather spend five hours clicking the same buttons over and over coloring every frame than search for ten minutes for the specific sound effect that i need which i would either not find or only find behins some stupid paywall, fuck me i need a foley of my own), and then putting everything together in adobe premiere which, frankly, if you had ever any experience with any video editing at all is really simple.

#animation #fanart #fan art #wildbow #pale #webserial #maricica #verona #magic #transformation

[honeydots]

200. “He loves you, you know? He’s just afraid of admitting it.” ~~ This has some Vibes and I kinda like them so? I'd like 2 humbly request your take on this w/ shukita or akeshu if it's ok to ask for!! -- dorky-arsene (a sideblog)

“He loves you, you know? He’s just afraid of admitting it”

Hello no I didn’t forget about these I am just slower than a little baby turtle!!!!! Anyway

Summary: Goro’s new job leads him to discover that dealing with both a crush and an idiot while flipping burgers is, unarguably, the worst turn his life could’ve taken.

cw: sexual themes (+p5r spoilers)

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(ao3 link)

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“Hello! Would you like to try our Big Bang Special Combo Shot-Straight-Through Promotional Meal for ‘Thy Father of Corruption 2: The Daughter of Rejection’ for ¥850?”

Goro wanted to quit. 

You need this job. You need this job. He’d repeat to himself each time a customer decided they were feeling peckish. You will have no money if you quit and then you will have no home and then you will drop out of college and then you will die. 

He’d left the police department after graduating. With his past plans of an 18-year life expectancy having slipped down the drain, he hardly had a reason to stay. High school had been an uphill battle with cases of murder and robbery breathing down his neck, and he’d hesitated to even make an attempt at trying to juggle his priorities in university. Dropping the detective gig meant dropping the media attention, too, which gave him breathing room he certainly knew he needed, but never really had. 

The problem was, after three years of fading out of fame and living off his savings, he realized this wouldn’t stretch as far as he’d predicted. He hadn’t accounted nearly enough for the expenses that came with the unwelcome enforcement of trying to live as a proper human being. His bank account was growing meager. If he wanted to keep living (which was arguable) in the way that he was (which he did) he’d need an income. Almost anything would do, as long as it would bend and break to his schedule. 

And, all things considered, he technically had connections here. And ever since… that, the pay had actually increased to a respectable amount. The management had rehired, retrained, and improved. It was fast food, but it was livable. Nothing shameful about being livable. 

And god fucking dammit he had already done three interviews with no hires and he needed food other than half-cooked ramen noodles and bread slices. 

“Can I get you anything else, sir?” 

That didn’t mean he didn’t loathe every minute.

It was bad enough that he had a job at Big Bang Burger. And, bad enough that he’d been desperate to get it. It was bad enough that he had to bring in his homework like some anguished used-to-be honors student now getting barely passing marks. And christ, it was bad enough each time a customer would walk in, a hamburger-shaped icepick would slam itself into his frontal lobe, forever ingraining the memory of his premeditated brain murder of the former CEO of this very restaurant. 

All of that, and he couldn’t stress this more, was bad enough. It was entirely shitty all around. Completely awful, and damming, and humbling, though he hated to admit it. He’d like to say it couldn’t get any worse. That this was the end of the line, get off the train before it turns around, don’t get stuck in the never ending cycle of beef patties and sesame seed buns. 

But, god, of all the coworkers. 

“Ya know,” said Sakamoto, leaning down on the front counter after their customer had left,  “I dunno if clenching your teeth like you’ve got peanut butter stuck in there counts as ‘service with a smile.’” 

Sakamoto Ryuji. The boy who had the opposite of a filter, and more like a megaphone spewing recordings of every profanity in the Japanese language. He, who had walked in on Goro’s second day and loudly declared, ‘I thought I smelled something, what’s this a-hole doing here?’ Really, who else could he tolerate spending eight-hour shifts with; greasy stoves, piss poor customers, and the ruthless scent of lysol on tile included?

Ah, right. Anyone else. 

Goro pressed his lips together. “Hm. Well you know, I was almost certain that elbows on the counter was a fireable offense.” 

Sakamoto snatched himself up in a second, elbows up high. He hung there and looked around the empty restaurant. 

He pouted. “Not cool, dude. That’s only when there’s customers.”

Goro raised his eyebrows. He was really just going to stand there? He looked like an idiot, or a chicken. A hybrid that, if anyone could pull off, would be him. He was making a great show of it, too. 

Sakamoto narrowed his eyes. “Unless you’re a snitch.” 

Goro spoke in his most syrupy sweet voice. “Are you implying then, that your job is in my hands? An entertaining thought, Sakamoto.” If it were only that simple to really get him fired. Unfortunately, their manager seemed to love his enthusiasm. Every moment he spent enthusiastically mopping floors and singing into the handle was a moment Goro could’ve been writing soliloquies of his growing and newfound hatred for Carly Rae Jepsen. 

Sakamoto folded his arms in a huff. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about, man! Look at that fake-ass smile.” He shook his head. “And I get customer service blows and stuff, but you use it for everything. Lighten up dude! Take a break.”

Sakamoto said things with such confidence, such surety. It made his teeth grind. 

“I’d prefer to keep my job,” Goro said, and gave him the sweet smile Sakamoto was arguing against. “Though, if you’d like to pay my rent for me, you’re more than welcome.” 

He acted like he hadn’t even heard him.“Maybe it’s ‘cause you’re so gloomy all the time, your face just doesn’t know how to work it. Look it, check me out.” Sakamoto pointed his thumb at himself and flashed a toothy smile. “Just like that! All natural, bro. It’s easy. Come on, you really try it this time.” 

Goro very clearly did not. He stared with his most obsolete and ‘stop-trying-to-have-a-conversation-with-me’ look he could muster. He’d communicate it telepathically, if given the chance. 

“That doesn’t look like trying to me,” Sakamoto said expectantly. 

Couldn’t they just sit in silence and wait for their fabrication of getting-along time when the next inevitable customer came in? “Perhaps, and please let me know if this is too complicated, I simply have no intention of trying, because I don’t believe there’s anything to fix.” 

“Nah, that’s not it,” replied Sakamoto, as if he was being thoughtful.

Another reason why he was completely obnoxious was because the longer they knew each other, the less that Goro’s flawless stone faced looks worked. Sakamoto kept spewing hot air. He’d gained some kind of tolerance, and it was tedious to work around. 

Sakamoto leaned back down, previous elbow warnings forgotten. “I bet you’re the kinda guy who’s super ticklish, so you act all boring so no one suspects it.”

“I’m not,” Goro snapped. 

“Quick reply there, buddy.” 

Goro didn’t answer to that. He didn’t owe it to him. This was pointless; why did Sakamoto find such pleasure in talking about pointless things? 

He slouched further down. “So it’s silent treatment now. You’re checking all the boxes over here.” He waved his finger through the air. “Check, n’ check, n’, check.” 

Goro was getting a headache. “I don’t want to talk about this.” 

“Betcha you’re super ticklish. And like, one of those cry-laughers.” 

“Sakamoto, did you hear what I just said.” 

He stretched up from his position on the counter. “Like if I poke you in the side, I bet it would make ya jump.” 

“Do not.” He could just try it. Goro would bend his finger back so far it’d break. He wondered if that would be a viable option to get him to stop talking sometime. 

“Didn’t say I was gonna.” He rested his arms behind his neck. “You’re just proving my point more, though.” 

Sakamoto was annoyingly stubborn at times. Once he found a niche with Goro, he’d hack his way in and grab on like a tick. Bother him like it was his last chance he’d ever get, as if they didn’t work shifts together four times a week. He was bound to get lyme disease at this rate.  

Goro felt like a very frustrated pair of tweezers.“Can we talk about anything else, please?”

Sakamoto went quiet. He was just looking at him now. Goro tensed up. Was he really going to try and poke him? He meant it, he’d break his hand. 

“Ya know, there is something I wanna talk to you about,” he said.

Goro did not like the sound of that. “Oh really.” He tried to sound like he was just told he was about to be given a lecture on the intricacies and details of lentil soup. Which, perhaps could be more interesting than whatever topic Sakamoto was about to pull out of his ass. 

Sakamoto sniffed. “Yup. It’s about Akira.” 

Oh, he really didn’t like where this was going. “Sakamoto, I—” 

“When’re ya gonna like, confess.” 

Goro visibly winced. Dammit. He knew he’d bring this up one day. He was absolutely infuriated Sakamoto knew about that, and he hadn’t even told him. He’d been making guesses and Goro had been just tired enough during his shift to let a hint of a sigh out, and Sakamoto had taken that to new heights. Another example of conversations being had that Goro would’ve just about died to get out of. 

Sakamoto was still staring at him. Didn’t he have anything better to do? Goro knew they didn’t at this good for nothing job, but what was so hard about just acting like you’re busy. You’re pretending then, at least, and that’s something. 

“Well, dude?” asked Sakamoto. 

Any conversation is better than that one.

Mother of fuck. 

“I…” Goro started, adjusting a piece of his hair, “I suppose I am a little ticklish.”

Sakamoto’s face lit up. “Dude, for real? Called it,” he said triumphantly. Had Goro not known him as well as he did, he’d think the divergence in conversation was a trick to get him to admit he was a bit… touchy. But he did know him, and he wasn’t one for games like that.

“Most people are, it shouldn’t be a surprise. It’s skin sensitivity, nothing more.” 

Sakamoto shrugged. “Still funny you admitted to it.” 

Sure. Very hilarious. Yet another fact Sakamoto now knows about him that he’d really have rather not shared under any circumstance. 

“Satisfied, now?” Goro asked, but it wasn’t really a question. He didn’t plan on expanding, this was embarrassing enough as it was. 

“Nope,” he replied, “cause that’s great and all, but I really gotta know the game plan.” He leaned in close to Goro, and he in turn leaned farther away.

“There’s no ‘game plan,’ Sakamoto. Please don’t get so close to me.” 

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.” He moved back, obviously not finished. “Come on, though, you gotta have something.” And back down on the counter he slouched. 

‘Something,’ he’d said. Yes, and that something was to keep his mouth shut and go about his life keeping each and every one of those mortifying feelings to himself. It was humiliating enough that Sakamoto knew. Telling Akira? He didn’t even want to imagine it. He’d rather face Okumura-san herself and ask her to buy one of their Shot-Straight-Through combo meals. 

“There’s nothing. And I don’t plan there to be anything. And, it’s not really much of your business, is it?” Goro could feel himself growing irritated. 

Sakamoto melted further into the counter. “I just don’t get why you’re not gonna ask him out if you like him. You might as well, man, it’ll be fine.” 

What simple ways of thinking. Do this, get that in return. Black and white, and right and wrong. Spill your fleeting moment of vulnerability and try not to think about the extensive hole of commitment you’re burying yourself in. One turn of phrase, one word, one misplaced breath to Akira would forever rupture the sorry excuse of acquaintanceship they’d been flip flopping through for the past three years. Akira was a blank slate and simultaneously the person he knew best. He knew him, but didn’t really, and he could never tell what he was thinking. Suddenly he was gambling again, and this time it came entirely unwelcome. Risks you face before death and risks that you’ll keep living through no matter the outcome tasted different. One was tangy and sweet and thrilling, the other was bitter  shit. Not to mention that Akira was too kind to him for his own good. He couldn’t even tell what was a lie. 

But, Sakamoto didn’t need to know all that. “You say that like there’s nothing to consider. As if I’ve never even given this thought. You do not belong in my head, Sakamoto. And I do not need to give you, an obvious outsider on the entire dilemma, any sort of justification for why I’m going to continue to abstain on something as trivial as a confession.” 

Sakamoto huffed at him. “What if I said that I gua-ran-tee he’s not gonna say no to you.”

Goro was already sick of this. What, had Sakamoto expected his heart to skip? His pulse to rise? That just the very thought of mutual feelings would send him into some flustered mess? Please. He told the tingling feeling going up through his legs and down his arms and up the back of his neck to shut the fuck up. 

He couldn’t stay quiet for long. Sakamoto could and would get ideas. “Then why doesn’t he just tell me that himself? Why are you playing wingman for him?” 

“Cause he’s not gonna say anything cause he’s got to be worried that he’s gonna freak you and your crazy attachment issues out!” 

Of course, there it was. The blind bet. Sakamoto’s one-way thinking at it again, and Goro would not have it. “I’m not going to start playing some game with him about the complexities of whatever idea of consent he has in his head. I don’t need his sympathy, and I am certainly not looking for it. I don’t have time for something messy and half-assed. I don’t want that, and surely he doesn’t, either. If he feels any way about me, he’d ought to tell me, because then maybe we’d find some kind of leeway. But I will not let him sit there and wait for me to make the first move, like a key element in his plan. This is not some teenage romance, and I am not a caricature of his love life. He can wait patiently all he’d like, but I’m perfectly content as I am now.” 

Sakamoto seemed a little stunned. 

“Man, he’s just…” He trailed off. They sat in silence. 

So ways still existed to get Sakamoto to stop rambling on. He was sure he’d regret saying this later, for a multitude of reasons. He didn’t hate Sakamoto, even saying dislike felt strong, but he always talked about things that Goro had no interest nor inclination to discuss. Maybe silence was for the best between them, for now. 

“He loves you, you know? He’s just afraid of admitting it. That’s all it is, dude,” said Sakamoto. 

Goro inhaled. So he wasn’t done, then. “Love… is an entirely different conversation.” 

“Okay, fine, you want me to say he ‘like-likes’ you like some fifth grader? Cause he does.” 

Goro didn’t reply. He’d made his point. 

“He isn’t playing one of your weirdo mind games,” Sakamoto continued. “I think you’re thinking too hard about this. He’s just a guy. He just wants to make sure you’re all comfortable and shit. Cause it’s not like we don’t all know the bullshit that was goin’ on for you.”

“I am not looking for his pity.” A fine thing to say while working at a Big Bang Burger in a bright yellow shirt and starred apron. It didn’t matter. He didn’t wear this with pride, per say, but he wouldn’t ask someone to feel sorry for him.

He didn’t exactly want to be seen, either. Especially not Akira, but of course he’d make habits of visiting. That was just like him, and it was just like his pity, too. 

Sakamoto looked frustrated. “He ain’t pitying you, man! He’s tryin’ to respect you! He knows you got things to go through on your own and he’s trying to give you space and everything.” 

Goro clicked his tongue. “If you know that’s his tactic, why are you trying to pressure me into this?” 

“Cause I don’t care, dude!” Sakamoto said, and then stopped himself, and promptly looked very guilty. “Well, okay. I do care. Like, I do. But sometimes…” He looked like he was trying to pick his words out carefully. He had an idea, just no way to form it.

He settled. “Sometimes, you just gotta get laid, man.” 

At this point, Goro found himself shocked that he wasn’t banging his own head against the counter. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You’re twenty one years old! Dude, I know you haven’t gotten any,” Sakamoto argued. “Your gay ass with emotional problems? Get outta here.” 

“This is not—”  

Sakamoto put his hands up nonshalontly. “And like, yeah, no judgey stuff, take your time if you gotta. But have you considered it? Tell me. I betcha you haven’t.”

Goro opened his mouth, expecting to reply with an incredibly well thought out ‘fuck off,’ but the automatic doors slid open, and suddenly Goro was all smiles and greetings, so what came out instead was, “Hello! Welcome to Big Bang Burger! Would you—ah.” 

Sakamoto snorted loudly, and Goro wanted to kick him so bad. 

And actually, what was stopping him? Sakamoto had earned this, and it’s not like this customer would care. 

Because, who else could’ve been just about summoned by the trouble than Kurusu Akira himself; strolling in so casually through the doors, like he hadn’t just become the most unpleasant topic of conversation Goro had ever had with Sakamoto. Speak of the devil was an understatement, or perhaps he was the devil himself. 

“What the eff, man!” 

“Hey you two,” said Akira, hands in his pockets and clearly bagless. He didn’t even register Goro’s kick, like that was just some normal occurrence. Somehow, that made him angrier. 

“Yo,” said Sakamoto, recovering annoyingly quickly. Goro wondered if he should’ve considered breaking his finger. 

Sakamoto reached out to Akira for a fist bump. “You don’t have the cat with ya?” 

Akira bumped him back. “Nope. Just me today.” 

“Sweet,”  Sakamoto replied, a smile growing wide. Goro hated the look. It was the hungriest and most dastardly shit-eating grin he’d ever seen him dare to make. So, knowing Sakamoto and his terrible poker face, he had thought up some idiotic ploy. 

“What’s up with you?” Akira asked, and thank god it wasn’t directed at Goro. Sakamoto’s obviousness did not go unnoticed. 

“Oh nothin’, nothin’,” said Sakamoto, entirely conspicuously, “I gotta go, though, grind never stops. Super secret stuff in the back.” 

Goro glared at him. So now he would pretend to be busy? 

“Burger secrets,” Akira said, and Ryuji gave him a finger gun in reply. He walked off without a word, but apparently felt the inclination to jerk his head back at Goro, as if he didn’t know what he was doing. 

He sighed. No amount of alone time would ever compel Goro to confess at a Big Bang Burger, of all places. At least Akira tended to be a little more bearable in conversation. He hoped he’d be an in and out customer. “Can I get you anything?” 

Akira looked at him for a moment. “You look flustered.” 

Goro felt himself twitch. He wasn’t flustered, like some preteen who can’t hear the word genital without bursting into laughter. If anything, Sakamoto had caught him off guard with his stupidity. He obviously was not one to be so affected by such a topic. He was an adult, and a professional. He would again not think about the fact he was wearing an orange visor right now. 

“I’m positive that isn’t a menu item,” he replied, keeping his pleasant smile plastered on, keeping any stray annoyance from showing. 

Akira examined him closer. “Do you have a fever or something? You look red.”

Goro drummed his fingers against the counter impatiently. What was he supposed to say? Sorry, Akira, Sakamoto just decided to kindly push the image of you railing me as a form of twisted therapy into the forefront of my consciousness. Would you like any drinks?

“I’m fine. I’m not the type to go to work sick,” he decided on instead. 

“Really?” He didn’t seem convinced. 

Goro folded his arms. “While living in a society where health is determined by the trust of the majority, I have no plans to spread my germs to an unsuspecting businessman, in that I expect the same from him.”

Akira considered that for a moment. “So you’re embarrassed, then.” 

Goro’s expression turned sour. He was not in the mood for a debate. “Everyone seems to be presuming things today, have I missed a memo?” 

Akira didn’t miss a beat. “Ryuji said something?” 

Goro dragged his fingernails into his palm. He was hardly being that obvious, he wasn’t a bumbling idiot who couldn’t keep a straight face. Akira was just acutely good at reading people, (namely, reading him) and it drove Goro up the wall. It was unfair, for one thing, since Akira continued to maintain blank expressions in the face of clowns and hookers, keeping his inner thoughts kept behind lock and key. And, as of more recently, he was the one person Goro really desperately wanted to hide every wandering emotion from possible. Just his luck, fall for the bastard who analyzes people as a side job for his savior-complex living. 

This was making him more frustrated. “Would you just order?” 

Akira looked at the menu, but Goro knew it was bullshit. He ordered the same thing every time— a shake and a burger, no tomatoes. He certainly already knew what he wanted, but was just causing trouble in the meantime. What an annoyance. Goro punched it in, and made no moves to go and cook. If Sakamoto was going to have his “business” in the back, then he could stay there and do his job. 

“Sit over there, we’ll bring it to you when it’s done,” he said, and Akira silently obliged. He gave a small smile before he turned, leaving Goro completely alone with his thoughts as he sat at his table and scrolled through his phone. 

He couldn’t believe the timing of Sakamoto’s distasteful comment to Akira’s unseasonable entrance. Things always seemed to fall into place with Goro, just not the right places. The right place, but a little down, and to the left, the left, he said. He wished Sakamoto would mind his own business, let him quietly pine until his untimely death; which kept getting put off, might he add. 

Sakamoto emerged from the back end of the restaurant. He was holding the bag of presumably Akira’s food, and his shake. He waved them enthusiastically. 

“Go on, dude,” he smirked. 

Goro was blunt. “No.” He’d pissed him off enough today. He wasn’t going to walk over there and serve the food. Sakamoto’s little idea of love, romance and marriage in a burger joint would have to wait. Ideally, it would get itself stuck in wet concrete, and drown way down under where no one could see it and where the light of day would never reach. 

Sakamoto seemed to catch his drift. “Jeez, fine. Huffy, huffy.” 

He walked over to Akira with a spring in his step, and they started chatting idly. Goro couldn’t hear. In all honesty, he was trying to tune them out. His headache was growing worse. Pounding in his head, every light too bright and repetitive music blurring together his thoughts. And of course there was the elephant in the room, who was whispering to him Sakamoto’s crude suggestions, and the irritating notion that maybe he was right, just a little bit.

He needed to get himself together. He was acting like some horny teenager. Get fucked, you raunchy elephant. 

Sakamoto left to let him eat, and made a show of going back to the other end of the restaurant, all while wiggling his eyebrows at Goro. In turn, Goro made a show of rolling his eyes and planting himself facing away from Akira. It made Sakamoto laugh, for whatever reason, and Goro just ignored him. 

He watched the door idly and tried to relax. He’d been clenching his teeth, and his jaw ached. He tried to focus to get his headache to fade into obscurity. He couldn’t find much to concentrate on, was his issue. Other than the obvious, which he would ignore without remorse. He wanted to go home. No lights too bright there, no sloppily cleaned windows, and especially no crush (the word left a bad taste in his mouth. Boy who has left him emotionally compromised after giving him no reason to deny he had worth in the world and keeps him up at night thinking about the way he really tried to will him back into existence when he could, god, have anything else in the world, and he wanted him. Was that a better option?) sitting out of view, chewing quietly and doing absolutely nothing to draw so much attention to himself.  At home he could drown it all out in a cold bath, and let himself think of nothing but his numbing toes and pruning fingers. 

“Hey, catch,” Akira said, suddenly there and startling Goro out of his bathlike daydream. He tossed something onto the counter. Goro did not catch it. 

It was a napkin, all folded up in a careful way. It didn’t hold the shape well, but the intention was pretty clear. “Um. A crane?” 

“Yup. Present for you.” he started, rubbing his neck, and he had the nerve to look bashful. “I got bored.”

Goro hadn’t noticed him making it. Which, alright, did make sense, he was purposefully keeping his neck away from that entire half of the restaurant. “Sorry we aren’t quite the height of entertainment here.” Goro lightly touched its head. He didn’t know Akira knew how to make these. “Well, thank you, I guess.”

Akira pushed his glasses further up his nose. “You’re welcome to name him.”

“I think that I won’t.”

“That can be pretty trendy, too,” he replied. “I’ve gotta go. Class. Tell Ryuji I say bye.” 

“Bye, dude!” Sakamoto shouted from the back. There was that tiresome enthusiasm again. 

It made Akira smile.“Nevermind, then. See you.” 

Goro just barely lifted his hand by the wrist to wave. “Bye.” 

Akira turned, gave him a small trill of his fingers, and left. Sakamoto did not return to his exit, and Goro savored the moment. It was just him and the crane, now. 

It was pretty shoddy. Unfolding, and barely standing up on its own. Cheap paper napkins were not the ideal material for origami, it seemed. He watched it slowly fall apart, wings losing shape and the head relaxing into its neck. Akira had hardly stayed long, so that meant he was probably pretty good at this sort of thing. He wouldn’t have guessed. 

…He thought about how it might look on proper paper. The creases sharp and crisp, the ends pointed and still. What would Akira’s hands look like while they worked? He could hear the sounds of the folding, and the wedging, clean paper being bent and rippled. Delicate fingers, working through, meticulously checking every last inch. Sometimes a pinch, just where it’s needed. And then finished, folded tight, wrapped together in itself. Very quick work, with the touch of a hand. 

“The heck is that?” Sakamoto said, getting an actual jump out of Goro. 

“What?” he gasped, and took a second to collect his thoughts. At work. Sakamoto came back. In a Big Bang Burger. Headache present. Good fucking god. “It’s just…” He pressed his fingers into the side of his temple “It’s a paper crane. Akira made it.” 

Sakamoto let that sink in.“You tellin me you were just sitting here staring at the thing Akira made you?” 

“I wasn’t,” Goro replied, trying desperately to catch his breath as casually as possible. 

“Uh, you literally were.” Sakamoto got uncomfortably close to him again. Goro physically moved away, because now was not the time. 

It didn’t deter Sakamoto whatsoever. He put his hands on his hips and gave an annoying grin. “Bro, you gotta tell him… You’ve obviously got it preeetty bad.” 

Goro was fed up with this. This conversation needed to end, or he thought he might explode. “I don’t ‘have it bad,’ Sakamoto, stop bringing this up.” 

Sakamoto smirked at him. “You so do though, is the thing.” 

“I don’t. Leave me alone.”

He shrugged his shoulders, and kept his mouth shut. He was acting so haughty, like he’d won the argument. Which, he hadn’t, for the record. 

That stupid crane. All it’d done was make things worse. And what was it even doing? Sitting here crumbling away into uselessly folded paper. A cheap napkin made of other recycled cheap napkins. Clean and crisp paper was a long sought after dream, a fantasy and nothing more. 

You know, this was just it, really. This is what he meant. Akira would try and fold him up and he’d inevitably fall back down. He didn’t know just what fantastic method he’d try, but it wouldn’t matter— he was made of what he was made of, and nothing would hold him up. Trying was pointless, risking for naught, it would be better for everyone if he stayed just how he was and didn’t overstay his use. 

He would not fit into Akira’s plans or his pities. He couldn’t. 

“…Bruh. What does that even mean.” 

Ah? “What?“ No. He had not said that out loud. Sakamoto did not just hear all that nonsense. 

Sakamoto was giving him a funny look. “You’re not a napkin, man.” 

God, shit. Shit shit shit. “I— I know that, this is just—“ The unpleasant feeling of blood rushing to his face was just as intolerable as it was unpreventable. 

“For real? Cause you sure sounded like you were calling yourself a napkin.” 

Absolutely unbelievable. How unruly was he that he’d just spouted all that like it was nothing? He couldn’t believe he had to explain himself now, but letting him get ideas was undeniably worse. “It’s supposed to be… symbolic, Sakamoto.” 

He could practically see the gears turning in his head. That wasn’t something difficult to understand, you dunce. Every second of this humiliating scene felt like a knife turning in his back. 

“Why does your brain work in such effed up ways. You gotta work on that,” Sakamoto said, not letting up his judgemental look.

He crossed his arms, trying to make his mortification appear like annoyance. “Don’t you start with me. As if you ever have something useful to say. At least I’m— I’m thinking, here.” 

That riled him up a bit. “I’m thinkin’! I almost flunked literature so maybe I’m not so good at this analysis stuff, but you know what? Hear me out.” Goro did not want to hear him out. He continued despite that. “I get it, you got your problems. But I really don’t think you callin’ yourself some shitty crane is fair, you know? Like, you’re a whole guy.”

He did not appreciate how genuine Sakamoto was acting. It was odd, and it felt awkward coming from him. He didn’t want to feel guilty for being rude to him earlier, either. Just another topic to bother him to sleep. 

Sakamoto went on. “Gahhh, it feels weird sayin’ this but like, you’re not a napkin, okay! And Akira doesn’t think so either. You’re more… complicated. Napkins don’t pay taxes or anything.” 

Ah, alright. So it was mostly bullshit. He could ease the guilt away in one fell swoop. 

Goro’s disinterest seemed to show itself well to Sakamoto. “Just, okay. Lemme get my thoughts here. You gotta like… be your own first step. I didn’t get my own shit sorted out until I actually tried to. And I’m not sayin it’s easy to do. But Imma tell you right now your first step is gonna be to stop thinking you’re a napkin or a bucket or a plate of green beans or whatever else you come up with. And I mean it, man.”

Goro knew he had things to say to that. He had thought out replies and phrases that Sakamoto would need more headspace to begin to understand. But none of them came to him. So he decided to stay threateningly quiet. 

It was well received. “Okay okay, you’re gettin’ mad, I can tell. I’m gonna take my break,” Sakamoto relented, and turned on his heel. “I ain’t really trying to tell ya what to do but give it a thinking about, alright? ‘Least for Akira’s sake,” he said over his shoulder, and left Goro almost more alone than before. 

It wasn’t even Akira’s sake Goro was worried about. Not in the way Sakamoto seemed to think. And he didn’t need to be told he wasn’t some inanimate object, he wasn’t that out of mind. 

Any sort of sensible argument would have to come to him after the fact, apparently. To tell him this wouldn’t be a “first step,” more like a hundredth. How many paces did crawling out of the hole he’d buried himself in count for? How many miles had he gone by now, barefoot and bleeding all the way. 

Such a stupid conversation. Needless, too, since for whatever reason his filter decided to leave him to fend for himself. Just another addition to this embarrassing excuse of a shift today. 

The paper crane sat still on the counter, though it hardly resembled one anymore. He almost felt bad. He had his typical pit in his stomach, but nothing exactly to pinpoint it on. Was he wallowing in that much self-loathing? 

Perhaps. 

Goro adamantly refused to have any more dramatic revelations at his part time job, so any introspections would have to come later. 

He put the crumpled crane in his pocket. It was certainly not going to be a crane once he took it out again, but he didn’t really know what else to do with it. Throwing it away felt wrong, to him. Though he wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to do with it when he got home. 

Akira hadn’t given this to him in hopes of causing some mental anguish. Or at least, he assumed so. Sakamoto had said he didn’t play mind games, but if not those, what was he doing? It felt better to know it was a game, in that way there was something about Akira’s mystery of a consciousness he could pry through. 

Was he reading into things? For sure. Reading too deeply into anything had been a talent of his for as long as he could remember. It had saved his life before, many times and in the most difficult of times. 

This crane wasn’t life threatening, but it felt like it was. Not in the thrilling way, but in the shitty way. 

His shift was over soon. Which reminded him, Sakamoto had surely already taken his break. He was a dip, but Goro preferred his own thoughts to any conversation they’d had today. And that was saying something, since getting out of his own head was a much needed relief that he’d take almost any chance he got. 

He was overthinking, and there was nothing he could do about it. He would continue to overthink until someone stole his brain and dunked it in acid. Where was the enjoyment otherwise? It was all he knew how to do. 

And even he didn’t overthink this— if Akira had given this to him in earnest and in playfulness, and if Sakamoto hadn’t been overtly pulling his leg through their shifts today. There wasn’t even anything remarkable about it. If there was a chance that maybe things were just okay, and getting better, and he wasn’t a living metaphor for a tissue. Oh just, say he invited him out for coffee, and Akira surprised him with a new little creation, less spur of the moment and made something almost sweet. He’d never drop his pride so low as to ask for a lesson, but if he did, maybe he could learn to make something, too. And maybe he wouldn’t hate every moment of it, and maybe he’d like getting so close, and maybe he’d appreciate the mistakes as much as the praises. 

…Hm.

That was just a fantasy, of course. And surely, nothing was all that great about it. Anything could go wrong in any number of ways, his own interventions just one category. 

Maybe it was the headache, or the dragging on shift, or the terrible lights, or the distant humming of his coworker, but Goro must’ve been caught off guard today. Because otherwise, why else would he have thought, not long and not convincingly, but still a thought as present as can be, that maybe, despite everything. 

It could be nice. Just for a little bit. Maybe that didn’t sound quite so bad. 

Not so bad at all. 

#it is shuake btw! #thank u for requesting this sorry i took ages #i hope you’ll enjoy it...... and sorry if youve been avoiding spoilers!!! #i know the games out but i also know not everyone has seen all the Content #but i will leave it at that #also its 6k cause i just dont know how to stop talking #my fics #my p5 fics #ask #dorky-arsene

[evergreen-dryad]

old bnha wip #3 (kacchako)

In which a cheerful witch drags a resentful grouch of a brawler on a sidequest to hunt down spirits across the old sites of the country. It'll be fun, she said. . She never told him exactly what she was running away from.

It’s too late now. Blood drips off the blade that sunk into her, silently. Blood wells from the wound punctured into her, like ink spreading through paper.

The weapon slides out of her. Mouthless, Katsuki watches her body fall. He sees it all too clearly — the light from the flames afford no mercy. As if through treacle, he lunges before she can tumble to the ground.

The assassin looks at him, clearly amused. A snide little smile briefly rolls over their — no, her— face before it disappears. All the while, the strange curved blade glints purple as it soaks up the blood greedily.

The spell breaks as she breaks into a gleeful laugh.

(This is no assassin, now with the way she’s carrying herself. This is a hyena.)

“Get away from her,” His voice finally breaks through.

"Aww, look at you, all pale," she snarls through a wide grin, a finger on her chin, dagger wending through her hair. “I like the way your face looks like now,” said as casually as you please — as if she hadn’t just blotted out the world. The light in it. Ochako’s smile briefly flashes before his eyes and he feels it as keenly as a knife.

As if the world hadn’t stopped turning, when it clearly had for Katsuki.

* “Hey—” Katsuki, who had just been sharpening the blade of his axe, thank you, just started grinding faster.

“Hello, I’m trying to talk to you—” God, this one was not going away.

“What do you want,” he bit out, never stopping in his motion. The scraping screech never stopped. But that didn’t deter the determined smile in this one’s face.

“Quest!” She said it clearly, like the ding of a nail. Just like the fucking blacksmith’s son next door. A scowl foamed from Katsuki. “What does that have to do with me, ha?”

“I’m looking for a partner to go looking for spirits with me,” She cheerily told him in that annoying way like she’s about to rub an elbow in his ribs. “So come questing with me-”

“No.” He didn’t even need to waste his breath. What was he still doing here? At that he started to get up from his slouch on the ground, picking up the whetstone and his weapon.

“Aw, come on, please?” She stepped in front of him, cloak swishing around her ankles, tawdry at the edges.

He stood and glared at her, arms crossed. “I don’t play games, Round-Face.”

He sneered at her, squinting at her gait, trying to work her out. He’d seen her around the village for sure, but who was she again?

She had no clear weapons on her. An utility belt of leather, and a long object bound to her back. His eyes narrowed. One from the mage community then?

She smiled, reading his gaze. “I’m a witch, yes. Would it really kill you to go on one side-quest, Bakugou?”

“I don’t even fucking know your name, or your abilities, or why this should be worth my time,” he snapped, suddenly furious. Not that he wasn’t already simmering at the bit, constantly irritated by all the damn NPCs that kept trying to make small talk with him. “We are not even friends.”

“I’m Uraraka Ochako, remember that thank you. We met just a year ago at the marketplace and our families have traded a few commodities. You know perfectly well what witches can do.” She smiled at him, assured of herself. That pissed him off. Who freaking cared about all these common people’s backstories?

A teasing glint stole into her eyes as she tilted her head a little to the side.“You’re not the first ghosthunting companion I’d want either,” she’d sighed, almost pouting.

“THEN?” He fumed. “What the hell are you doing bothering me?” He almost wanted to strike the rude wench.

“Because you seem like the perfect complement to my abilities, and also!” She pointed a finger at him, making him lean back in distaste. “You’re fierce enough to scare any bad spirits away!”

“CALL ME SCARY, HA?” He gave into the urge to snap, a frown twisting up his face. Clank, goes his axe as he throws it to the ground.

She laughed. She seemed to find it — him, funny. “Yup, exactly like that!”

* There’s no one who can help them in this wilderness. The nearest healer happens to be the one who’s dead right now.

The killer had sauntered away easily enough. Seemed like she'd gotten what she'd wanted.

Mouth dry, Katsuki finally breaks. He screams — finally lets out the hoarse cry that’s been building in his throat since her body flashed in front of him. Holds her up to the light of the fire. But he already knows she’s beyond hope now. Because: “What the fuck, Uraraka?!” How dare she go dying on him? What the hell??

It’s all he can do to hold it together. He’s so angry he doesn’t even know how to begin. (Don’t die for me you nitwit you idiot you round-faced mess of a witch why I’m the warrior in your party?!)

Healers stay in the back, bring up the rear for a reason. And she just did the stupidest fucking thing he's ever heard of in this life.

* “No. I’m focusing on the Main Quest,” he barked. Only two of the scattered Treasures had been recovered in the realm — long ago, the king had issued a proclamation for all young and able to aid in seeking them out. Many of the adventurous had stepped up, for the promise of glory and riches. And of course, immortality.

Travelers and merchants had whispered of various parties of people, bravely searching and fighting come what may, what lies yonder over the forests and mountains.

Here lie dragons, and they were slayed, and the treasure returned.

For what is man without trying to leave a mark, before the waves of time wipe the sands of history clean?

Bakugou Katsuki, son of tailors Masaru and Mitsuki, was singlemindedly determined to be the Greatest Champion of them all.

“Living is just as important,” she chided, steps light beside his, hands swinging side to side as she followed him. Irritated, he increased his pace, but she never backed down.

“Not all of us want to slave away like mindless soldiers for the realm, you know. What would uniting all the Treasures do anyway? Does anyone know?” She squinted at him. “We don’t even know what they look or smell or feel like, most of us common people that is. For all we know it’s faded into myth now,” she continued, turning her palm to stare at its lines.

Aware of his increasing outrage, she turned to look at him with an easy, almost sheepish grin. “Not that I don’t want to, too. I just need to focus on my family first. And that means going on these quests with actual material returns.” She stared at him, awaiting his answer.

* Never told him there was a killer waltzing around waiting to wear her face, what the fuck.

He cradles her face, from the slight gash on her forehead, to the line of her jaw. He’d barely managed to save it.

* spirit quest camp shenanigans “That wasn’t so bad now, right, Bakugou?” The cheery little chit that’s the witch beside him — who dragged them out here in the middle of fucking nowhere in the first place — even has the damned energy to smile. Who the heck huffs a laugh like that while trying to act all patronising — you know what, scratch that thought. He’s met a-plenty who do that. Try to sweeten him up with honeyed words, when looks, material wealth doesn’t impress, doesn’t sway him to their side.

He bites. “That,” he said, “was too fucking tedious.” He shot her the stinkeye as they, of accord, settle down against the cool stone of the temple and start to set up camp. “We’re not done yet, are we,” he snarked, poisonous. He began sorting through the provisions they have on hand — and what loot they’d managed to gather.

Trailing ghosts for their items, ugh. What a waste of time

Let her collect the firewood, he’s had enough of the backbreaking work for today.

* “You know,” she began, out of the blue one day. They had just finished dinner, and she was staring wistfully up at the sky, fingers steepled beneath her chin. “You know what I said before about you not being who I’d choose as a partner? I take that back.”

Katsuki who had just grunted to show he was listening, found himself nearly spluttering. Whether from indignation or of shock he wasn’t sure. “Oh now you do?” What did I do now, his eyebrows knitted, but he couldn’t be bothered to ask.

She smiled at him, almost fond. “Yeah. You,” She began, only to stop again, seemingly at a loss of words.

Katsuki let a smirk spread over his face. “Yeah go on?”

She shot a look at him, almost an eyeroll. “Back then, I decided on you not because of your… lovely personality,” she hid a cough of laughter after a sideeye from him, “but because I decided — I guess I’d unconsciously decided I wanted someone who could watch my back.” She hesitated again, but briefer this time. “Someone who would definitely be able to fight on their own.”

“Basically you wanted to ride someone’s coattails,” he said drolly.

She flushed. “That may be right but all the same, I also knew I wanted to be stronger, so I thought I shouldn’t go for someone too kind. Someone who’d keep kicking me to get better. Someone,” she paused, glancing at him, “I admire a lot, and can work hard with.”

Katsuki felt his face freeze before he launched into a wide, cocky grin. “Oho, you sure are singing my praises today.”

She finally gave in to rolling her eyes. “I was trying to say you’re not so bad after all, despite being a stubborn arse toerag who keeps shouting till all the birds flee from all the explosions you make. So thank you, for coming along.” She finished with a single arch of her eyebrow. “And anyway, you’re pretty funny when you lose your temper, so thanks for the laughs.”

* Dusk is falling. The light paints the clouds orange, as they begin to slow down, breaths shuddering.

They’ve been hunting all day.

They’re somewhere off the beaten path back to the nearest village — the trees tower all around them, and shadows fall fast here. Night is fast approaching. They definitely can’t make it back to the lights of civilisation in time.

The voice is as sudden as it is disconcerting.

“Found you, my little bird~”

Ochako turns, and her face freezes. It’s as if she’s seen a ghost. “You—”

Katsuki doesn’t need to know any more than that. He whips out his weapon and swings it at their head, but—

—as easily as a breath they’ve sidestepped him. A small blade whisks by his cheek, taking some skin off — irritating him even more. He roars and rushes back in, only to be thwarted by this assailant’s constant darting all over the place. “What the fuck—”

“Katsuki!” He dimly hears Ochako cry out through the blood pumping in his head. “Stop! We need to regroup—”

“SHUT UP! I can settle this!” He yells back. What the hell, didn’t she trust him? The sudden annoyance sours within him, fueling his rage, his need to go all out. He swings the blade of his hatchet once more at the head of the attacker, before aiming a punch.

It hits, but he does not count for the momentum of the movement throwing him off-balance for a kilter. It’s enough for them to dart by and—

Katsuki readies his guard—

Only to realise a split-second later that they had never meant to fight him in the beginning.

Ochako gurgles, a pained breath hissing out, hands splayed out for a spell that couldn’t form quick enough. Light crumbles from her fingertips.

* -sequence where with last dying breath ochako transfers lifesource to him- -flashback where ochako uses skill- -katsuki tries to do the same despite knowing she’s gone but he doesn’t know what to do anymore- -he just shuts down after that, the realisation she’s not coming back- -only enough to bring her body back to the parents if close enough-/bury if not ~ "I'll come back for you one day, Katsuki," She singsongs, sickeningly sweet, before she deigns to take her departure. "Remember my name! I'm Toga Himiko!"

He spits after her.

Never. She's a killer, that's all she is.

He throws himself into fighting mindlessly. Katsuki does not deviate from his path of destruction — never thinking of the heart he always tried too hard to run from.

//and since I’m at it I might as well yeet out this fantasy au outline I had for kacchako, was prompted angst, did not get round to writing how they bond and such.

...it was 2018 when I wrote it, pretty unlikely I���ll write it anymore, so enjoy? :D

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #kacchako #boku no hero fanfic #uraraka ochako #bakugou katsuki #my writing #yeep wit time

[chaoticspacefam]

OC Playlist Meme - Ni’kasi

I was tagged by @resol-nare this time! Thank you, this meme is super fun! :D so, have the other Pureblood twin this time, because we all know they're my favourites 😄😄

I can't remember who I tagged last time since it's been a while so feel free to ignore if I've tagged you twice or you don't feel like it but: @mercurypilgrim , @sleepswithvillains , @thehighground , and anybody else that wants to, consider this a tag! :D

♦️  Their intro theme: Animal - MISSIO

“Tell me what you want from me...you don’t even know my name...”

♦️  Their own favorite song: Blackheart - Two Steps From Hell

“there are no lyrics to this one (Kas prefers songs without lyrics when she listens to music! ;)) so just have a link :’D”

♦️  Their boss battle theme: Save Rock ‘n’ Roll - Fall Out Boy

“I’ve cried tears you’ll never see. So fuck you, you can go cry me an ocean and leave me be! You are what you love, not who loves you. In a world full of the word “yes” I’m here to scream: “NO! NO!” Wherever I go, trouble seems to follow. I only plugged in to save rock’n’roll.”

♦️  Their love song: (one for each of her main ships, again :3)

For Zephyrverse/Jask: Say Love - James TW

“And there was something in those eyes that she was hiding, she said “I don’t want this to hurt.” Just don’t say love, say love, say love, say love, no. I’ve heard that word misused a thousand times before. I know that we don’t have to dive in, cause we’ve got all of the time in the world to say love, say love, say love, say love, oh.”

For Subterfugeverse/Andronikos: the fall - half•alive

“I jump off and into your arms, but I can’t trust the fall. Take my voice, I’m giving it though I don’t feel safe at all. I can’t trust the fall...it’s like sharing a dream with someone, once you say it out loud it can’t be undone.”

♦️  Their sad times song: So Cold - Breaking Benjamin

“If you find your family, don’t you cry. In this land of make-believe, dead and dry...you’re so cold but you feel alive. Lay your hand on me, one last time: show me how it ends, it’s alright; show me how defenseless you really are...”

♦️  A song that fits their aesthetic: Broken Bones - KALEO

“You got no place to call a home (The devil’s gonna make me a free man), only chains and broken bones (the devil’s gonna set me free), You got no place to call a home (the devil’s gonna make me a free man), so come on lord whatchu waitin’ for (the devil’s gonna set me free)! ”

♦️  A song that reminds them of a better time: High Hopes - Panic! At The Disco

“ Mama said: Fulfill the prophecy. Be something greater, go make a legacy...Stay up on that rise, stay up on that rise and never come down, oh.”

♦️  A song that calms them down: 10,000 Enemies -  Emeli Sandé  

(same as Saarai’s because again, I headcanon this is the song mom used to sing to them when they were babies so it’s the one that sticks with both the twins :)) )

“I hear the  sweetest sound, blowing from the North. It says ‘don’t panic now, what’s  mine is yours...’ I hope 10,000 times you tell me the truth. Cause now  there’s much to do. I trust in you. I shall be free...I shall be free.  We shall be free.”

♦️  A song that gets them hyped up: Wait For It - Leslie Odom Jr.

“Death doesn’t discriminate, between the sinners and the saints. It takes, and it takes, and it takes, and we keep living anyway. We rise and we fall, and we break and we make our mistakes, and if there’s a reason I’m still alive when everyone who loves me has died. Then I’m willing to wait for it.”

I’m assuming this section is meant to mean a song the character would associate with each season? So I hope I’ve interpreted that correctly, I wasn’t really sure what else it was referring to. So that’s what I’m doing LOL

♦️  Spring: Hey Brother - Avicii

(slight alteration because she doesn’t have a brother, only her sister. But spring always has Kas wondering where it is Saarai managed to take Ty and hoping they’re safe and happy. It makes everything she went through to give them that chance worth it.)

“What if I’m far from home? Oh brother Don’t worry I will hear you call. What if I lose it all? Oh sister I will help you out. Oh, if the sky comes falling down, for you, there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do...”

♦️  Summer: Judith - A Perfect Circle

(Most of her memories of summer are the blistering heat stuck in the slave pens...she might not have actually committed the murder that ultimately ended her up there, but she needed the other Sith to think she had :K)

“It’s not like you killed someone, it’s not like you drove a hateful spear into his side.”

♦️  Autumn: Arsonist’s Lullaby - Hozier

“All you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach...don’t you ever tame your demons, but always keep ‘em on a leash.”

♦️  Winter: Louder Than Thunder - The Devil Wears Prada

“What would it take, for things to be quiet? Quiet like the snow...Are we meant to be empty-handed? I know I could, I could be better!”

♦️  The song that plays while they’re lying on the ground bleeding out in a Walmart: Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Lorde

“There’s a room where the light won’t find you, holding hands as the world comes tumbling down.”

♦️  The song that would play each morning if they’re stuck in a time loop: you should see me in a crown - Billie Eilish

(gotta motivate yourself to keep on going even when tasks get tedious as they’re bound to in a time loop! :P)

“You should see me in a crown, I’m gonna run this nothing town! Watch me make em bow one by, one by, one.”

♦️  The song they’d listen to while robbing a Wendy’s: I Will Not Bow - Breaking Benjamin

“I will not bow, I will not break, I will shut the world away.”

♦️  The song they’d accidentally introduce to people in medieval times if they were a time traveller: Two Steps From Hell - Heart of Courage

(Ni’kasi’s far more serious and she wouldn’t deliberately play an annoying or punny sort of song, so..just something she’d regularly listen to, I guess, if it existed in the SWTOR Verse?)

“No lyrics again, so have a link !”

♦️  The song they’d play in the middle of the night when their neighbors are being too loud: N/A

I couldn't find one for this one for Kas, because to be honest she would be that person that doesn't get passive-aggressive and play music she would legit go over there and bang on their door screaming "SHUT THE FUCK UP I'M TRYING TO SLEEP!!" XD

♦️  The song that plays at their funeral: Dead Hearts - Stars

“Did you touch them, did you hold them, did they follow you to town? They make me feel I’m falling down, they make me feel I’m falling down. Was there one you saw too clearly, did they seem too real to you? They were kids that I once knew, they were kids that I once knew...”

♦️  The song that plays when it’s revealed that they faked their death: Burning Pile - Mother Mother

“All my troubles on the burning pile, all lit up and I start to smile. If I catch fire then I’ll change my aim, throw my troubles at the world again!”

#swtor #star wars: the old republic #tagged meme #oc meme #oc playlist meme #swtor oc: ni'kasi ahaszaai

[theskystillwakesup]

MERRY PITCHMAS @introvert-luce !!!!

I hope you have wonderful day and a beautiful year ahead of you! I was your secret santa and I hope you enjoy your gift :) !! 

Words: 2410 Rating: T Pairing: Beca/Chloe AO3: coming soon!

Beca Mitchell does not like Christmas.

She doesn’t hate it, but she's neither fond of the holiday nor the days around it. The stretch from late December to early January is just a melancholic, monotonic blur that bleeds into itself and it’s not exactly a good time for her. The days are cold, dull and depressive, doing nothing to help her already pensive mood around that time of the year.

She’s just never celebrated the holidays, period. Her family was as messed up as it could get right before a divorce, and nobody really wants to celebrate a thing like that, not even a five-year-old who was all too aware of what was going on around her.

Back at Barden, she just used to take part in the gift exchange with everyone else and help with errands if they were short on people – it didn’t hurt to do any of that. Afterwards, she used to chill out with the Bellas that didn’t celebrate the holiday either, and that’s the way she liked it.

She’d normally not be invested in the occasion at all, just simply mail a few cards to her Bellas and call it a day.

But this year, it’s her first Christmas together with Chloe, and she doesn’t know what it’ll hold.

(She has a hard time believing that Chloe’s actually her girlfriend as it is.)

Chloe understands her perfectly and wouldn’t prod her about doing something. If Beca doesn’t want to do anything with her, she knows she can tell Chloe and two will plan the day according to both their wishes and reach a compromise.

But that’s the thing: this year, she wants to spend the holiday with Chloe. She wants to see where it takes them and what it’s like when it’s just the two of them.

Most of all, she wants to make sure Chloe loves it.

~

The first thing they do is go Christmas shopping.

Chloe’s face is gleaming as she looks around the streets, eyes drawn to those shops that are already way too decked up even if the holiday’s less than 2 weeks away. Beca deems it too early for any sort of decoration, and honestly, it’s a bit of an eyesore.  

But she glances at Chloe again, noticing how content the woman looks and smiles to herself. If it’s making Chloe smile, it’s not stupid.

“Beca, are you alright?” Chloe voice shakes her from her musings, and she shakes her head before meeting Chloe’s eyes. “What? Yeah, I’m fine.” “You kind of zoned out for a while there, are you sure?”

Beca doesn’t even think before she replies.

“Yeah, it’s just that you were looking, like, really pretty, so…”

Color rushes to her cheeks, and she can’t believe she just said that out loud. Smooth, Mitchell, she thinks. She looks at her feet, shuffling them together to break the silence and wonders how awkward Chloe felt.

(Okay, fuck it, Chloe’s her girlfriend, she’ll tell her she’s pretty anytime. But still, that doesn’t make her feel any less embarrassed. Her college self is facepalming herself big time.)

Soft fingers lace with hers, and she looks down to see their intertwined hands. There’s a press of lips against her cheek, and Chloe’s face splits into a soft smile. Beca knows Chloe’s understood what she was trying to say – she doesn’t need words to know that.

Giving their hands a quick squeeze, Chloe tugs her into her into a huge, overly red and white shop.

As daunting as the rows upon rows of weird trinkets and eatables look, Beca thinks she’ll just about do anything and go anywhere as long as she’s with Chloe.

~

Beca’s bored three minutes into their shopping trip. 

Frankly, the displays of red, white and green are making her sick and every time she sees a gallant looking Christmassy sculpture she wants to barf. What happened to the simplicity of decorations?

Chloe seems to be entirely unaffected by any of this, and easily picks out whatever she needs. Beca can recognize the basics, like fairy lights and tree ornaments, but most of the other things in the cart are a mystery to her.

For her, the holiday’s never been more than what she’s seen in movies, and it’s not like she has any memorable times from when her father tried to celebrate it with her. There’s a snippet in her mind, of what it would have been like to celebrate the holiday like most other families do. It’s enough to make her feel like she’s missed out on a lot, and sometimes she wonders if she’ll ever get to feel that.

She guesses that growing and maturing in life really does make you want the things you couldn’t have cared less about ten years ago.

Chloe’s voice snaps her out of her brooding thoughts yet again, and she sees the woman waving her over, probably asking for her opinion on something she has no idea about.

Chloe explains to her that they’re in a grave situation, and that Beca must help her pick the best flavour of marshmallows or everything will absolutely go to hell. 

(Beca thinks, that with Chloe and the bellas, she’s already got the family she’d never had.

And with Chloe, the future she wants doesn’t seem too far off.)

~

Beca had thought shopping was going to be the most tedious part about the festive season. But half an hour into their attempt to hang up some fairy lights, she’s done.

“Chloe, I can’t do this anymore. Why are the walls so high? I knew we shouldn’t have bought this place.” She whines, shakily balancing herself on a ladder that is bound to fall any second.

“You’re just short, Beca.” Chloe replies from the other side of the room, neatly winding the wires around nails and over picture frames.

“It’s not like you’re any taller.” Beca mutters under her breath. “I heard that. It’s why we use something called ladders, Becs.” “Can’t I just do something else? I really don’t think I’m doing it right.” “How can you possibly mess up hanging a fairy light?” “Try me.”

Sure enough, when Chloe turns around and sees the lopsided mess of wires and bulbs that was supposed to be cute and organized, she sighs and shakes her head.

Chloe tells her to hold the stream of lights for her while she tacks them to the wall, which basically means that all Beca has to do is stand by the ladder and pull the wire when Chloe asks her to.

In the three hours that it takes for them to finish, Beca nearly remains silent, while Chloe does the talking. She talks about everything – her vet school life, the animals she’s treated, that one puppy that wouldn’t stop clinging to her and Beca listens promptly, drinking it all up, eyes never leaving Chloe.

She’s positive that it’s at least the third time she’s hearing Chloe bring up the same incidents, but she could listen to the redhead talk all day. Their time together is already limited, with Chloe still having a few months more of vet school all the way in Davis, and Beca’s producing career just on the verge of taking off. 

She’ll take what she can get for now.

Chloe’s laughter interjects the conversation every now and then, her eyes filled with mirth, and it makes Beca feel warm in a way she’s never felt before.

There are boxes open all over the floor, bits of paper strewn across the rug, pieces of tape stuck to her pants and lights illuminating the whole room.

(She could probably stay like this forever, she thinks, depressing holiday season be damned.)

~

They do their gift shopping separately, and Beca absolutely wrecks her brain trying to find Chloe a perfect one. Chloe’s the kind of person who’d be perfectly content with anything Beca gets her, and that doesn’t exactly help her narrow down her options.

Ultimately, a bracelet in a jewelry shop catches her eye, silver and glistening. It’s expensive, but not exactly unaffordable thanks to her salary. It has certain tiny engravings on it that she knows Chloe will love, and at this point, not buying the bracelet is out of the question – she herself loves it.

As she pulls out her card and pays, she thinks of Chloe’s smile, of sunlight glinting off the band in the early mornings, of the cool metal resting against her skin.

Yeah, she can’t wait for Christmas to come around and give Chloe her present.

~

Christmas day comes around faster than any of them had anticipated, and before they know it, they’re getting ready to host Stacie and Aubrey for the evening. The two were the only two Bellas who were close enough to visit them, with all the others promising to visit some other time.

They’d spent the morning lazing around and doing absolutely nothing - Beca’s ideal morning -  which naturally meant that their entire afternoon is spent preparing dinner and doing other errands around the house.

A few minutes after they’ve just wrapped up and Chloe’s busy getting ready, Beca answers the door to reveal Stacie and Aubrey. Stacie pulls her into a bone crushing hug, while the blonde is too busy checking out her loft, admiring the place as soon as Beca ushers her in.

“Okay, I think I now understand why Chloe’s dating you.” Aubrey remarks.

Stacie lets out a snort at that, and Beca simply rolls her eyes. She knows Aubrey’s pulling her leg, but she can’t resist a little jab at the woman either.

“Are you jealous? I can set up a trust fund for you if you want.”

This time, Stacie laughs at the retort, clearly amused by the two, while Aubrey simply glares at her.

Chloe walks in just as Aubrey’s about to respond, dressed in a flattering sweater and jeans. She gives an exasperated sigh as soon as she sees the two women glaring at each other - she’s seen this scene play out in front of her too many times before.

“Are you two seriously doing this? On Christmas?” “Aubrey started it!” “Nobody asked you to continue it!”

“Sometimes I still have trouble believing you’re both adults.” Chloe states, and Aubrey cracks a smile before rushing over to Chloe and hugging her tightly.

~

They drink a little wine before dinner, and once they’re done eating Chloe says words that makes Beca’s blood run cold.

“Beca, it’s time for you to put on your sweater.”

Chloe doesn’t have to specify which sweater she’s talking about.

The color drains from Beca’s face and she sits rooted to her spot.

“No.” She answers resolutely. She’s dodged the weird tradition of gaudy Christmas sweaters all her life and she’ll be damned if she wears one this year.

“Beca, please?” Chloe asks, her voice syrupy sweet and eyes softened. Usually, a pout is enough for Chloe to get what she wants, but this is a serious matter. Beca is not going to wear a hideous, bright turtleneck no matter what.

She spares a glance at Stacie and Aubrey, and Aubrey’s having way too much fun stiffling her laughter, while Stacie grins and looks on. Everyone except her is clad in ugly red, white, green and brown Christmas sweaters, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to wear one too.

“No.”

“Come on, Beca, even Aubrey’s wearing one! You can take it off later, just put it on for now.” Chloe insists, clutching a  brown paper bag in her hand. Beca doesn’t even know where Chloe procured that from, and frankly, she’s a little scared.

Beca shakes her head again.

“Alright, you know what.”

Chloe grabs her hand and drags her to their bedroom. Beca would be amazed by the feat of strength under different circumstances, mostly ones that didn’t involve ugly sweaters.

The redhead trudges closer to her, backing her up against one of the walls, until their bodies are almost touching. “Wear it, and I’ll make it up to you later.” She whispers in a sultry tone that she knows makes Beca weak.

“I-“ 

“Thanks.” Chloe says sweetly, before swiftly turning on her heel and walking away, shutting the door on her way out.

Beca glares at the packet lying on the bed and tries not to rip apart the fabric the moment she lays her eyes on it.

It’s the ugliest thing Beca has ever seen.

It’s chunky and gaudy and has a horrendous reindeer sewn into the front of it. The colors make Beca’s eyes hurt and she knows she’s never going to live it down once she walks out the door. The things she does for Chloe…

The moment she walks out the door, to Aubrey’s laughter, Chloe’s giggles and Stacie’s camera going off, she knows there’s no going back.

She resigns herself to wearing the monstrosity for the rest of the evening, and sulks in the corner while the three women finish laughing over her.

She looks at Chloe, doubled over in laughter, clearly enjoying the sight of her wearing something so silly, and decides that maybe it isn’t so bad after all.

(On second thought, she takes it back. The sweater is fucking horrible.)

~

Stacie and Aubrey leave a few minutes to midnight, and Beca realizes that she never actually got around to giving Chloe her gift. Chloe had given hers in the morning only, but Beca had insisted on waiting till the evening to give hers.

She rushes into their bedroom, rummaging through her closet until she finds the box and runs out to a confused Chloe, standing dazed in the kitchen.

“Close your eyes.” The redhead promptly does as instructed, and Beca takes her right hand in hers.

Beca takes the bracelet and clasps it on Chloe’s wrist. Chloe’s eyes open the moment she feels the cool metal against her skin, and her eyes visibly widen as she takes in the sleek, silvery piece adorning her hand.

“Do you like it?” Beca asks, a little thrown off by Chloe’s lack of a response.Did she go too far?

“I love it, it’s beautiful. You know you didn’t have to get me this.” Chloe lifts the bracelet to her face and examines it closely, awed by its make and design. I know, I wanted to.”

She detaches the hand holding Chloe’s and brings it up to the redhead’s cheek instead, stroking it softly.

“Merry Christmas, Chloe.” She’s never felt this happy greeting someone.

“Merry Christmas, Beca.” 

Chloe’s happy, the kind of happy that comes from within your bones, and Beca knows it because Chloe’s eyes are shining and her hands are shaking and she can’t stop smiling.

It’s alright, Beca thinks.

She wouldn’t mind a million more days like this, as long as Chloe’s with her.

#merry pitchmas 2019 #merry pitchmas #bechloe #pp #hope you like this #i might make some edits to it later #introvert-luce #:)

[realfuurikuuri]

Chapters: 10/? Fandom: Mao Mao: Heroes of Pure Heart (Cartoon) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Series: Part 1 of Mao Mao: The Hero Without an Arm Summary:

MissingArm!AU: When escaping the cave, it wasn't his tail that got crushed. In exchange for his innocence, he gained a sordid past. The Pure Heart Valley seemed like a good place to escape. To start a new life with a new family to forge a new identity. However, when the past rears its ugly head Mao Mao's forced to step up or be put down.

AN:  I'm back with a late chapter, but to make up for that it's longer than usual. Yay! Again, I'm not very good at predicting how long all of this will be. With this whole Corona thing, I've found enough time to actually get this out in between everything. I hope this chapter at least puts you guys under quarantine and everyone not under quarantine at ease. As always follow @spookylovesboba whenever you can find her and enjoy the chapter.

Badgerclops blinked a few times, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the sun before he realized he was just tired. He watched the blue smudge, which he guessed was Adorabat walking up the steps. She waved at him so Badgerclops waved back, or she tripped and fell, he couldn’t tell. He started the aerocycle’s motor, flying back because he had it in reverse, and flying the right way when he fixed it. He wanted to go back home, get some sleep, check on Jǐngtì, but he figured he should probably pick up supplies while he’s in town.

The early morning air was cool, but it was slowly warming up. He checked on the blob since he was heading that way. It was still in the taped barrier. Looking at it he had to wonder if it had gotten bigger. He couldn’t be sure. He hadn’t slept since… before he went camping. He was nearing his third day without sleep and by god, it was starting to show. His mind was covered in a thick haze that made his head burn. His vision was cloudy, considering his eye was prosthetic, couldn’t have been good.

The supplies shop wasn’t too far from the fountain square. He was surprised to find Penny and Benny running it. (He could swear they did deliveries) who handed him a receipt written in crayon. He wasn't sure if that was legal; Mao Mao was the one who knew the laws, not him. Badgerclops stood off to the side watching the three-foot fools try to tie the stack to the back of the aerocycle. He made sure to give them some gummy worms as payment before taking off again. He was sure that was illegal, but who's going to arrest him?

Badgerclops went in low when he saw HQ. Too low, in fact. Badgerclops jumped off at the last second, watching the aerocycle carve a ditch across the front lawn. He stumbled towards HQ to poke his head inside. The noise hadn’t woken Jǐngtì. He was peacefully asleep. He almost envied the little bastard. He couldn’t envy anyone who called Mao Mao their dad. Much like his father he would be a great help with fixing everything. Badgerclops tapped his chin, considering waking him up before he relented with a sigh. Let him sleep , he told himself.

Badgerclops stepped back outside to examine the aerocycle. The supplies on the back weren’t damaged, but the aerocycle certainly wouldn’t be flying. A real crock of shit considering he had to pick up Adorabat in like… six hours? Would six hours of sleep be enough? Would he even have that much free time? He had to fix the house and even worse, he forgot to buy furniture!

Badgerclops harrumphed as he sat down to order it all, using his arm instead of a computer as he should’ve from the start. He went for 2-hour delivery even though it was $40 extra, mostly because he wanted to see if they’d actually do it, before he took the supplies off the Aerocycle. The stack was heavy and tall, making it hard to walk and even harder to see.

Getting it through the door was easy considering he didn’t have a door, or a doorframe, or the walls surrounding it. That didn't stop him from tripping over his own feet, landing with a loud and undignified scream. He could feel the weak house foundations begin to shake.

Badgerclops lied there, waiting for the shaking to stop or the floor to give in.

By some miracle the house settled back down. The floor only gave a disturbing groan when he forced the supplies off. He peeked over at Jǐngtì who was still asleep. Kid could probably sleep through an earthquake , Badgerclops thought to himself, stopping just short of mumbling it out loud. Knowing his luck that probably would wake him up.

Badgerclops’ luck held out more than he thought when he sorted the supplies to find it all in one piece. He sorted the plywood, slicing it into boards with a laser so he could fix the floor. It was tedious and tiring, especially when he had to stop to nail down the boards every so often. When he finished he overlooked his work. It looked fine, until he realised that he cut the new boards too large.

It was fine. It was fine. It was fine. Fuck, no it wasn’t! This was going to bother him all the time if he didn’t fix it .

Badgerclops pulled up every board he just placed to cut them again before placing them back down. He looked over his work again, even breaking out a ruler to make sure he got it right.

Next he had to fix the door. He cut around the broken edges of the wood, using the leftover planks to seal the massive hole. He then set up the door frame and door. He probably should have done the wiring for the doorframe later because he shocked himself time and time again trying to set it up.

That was enough for now , Badgerclops told himself as he sat down. Fatigue had given him a headache that drummed inside his skull. He wanted to just lie down on his new floors and fall into a coma, but he knew himself too well.

If he stopped now he wouldn’t get this done in time. He pried himself out the chair, painfully leaning over to get the polish, varnish, and felt-block to buff the damage out of the wood. He dragged himself to a part of the wall, right next to the kitchen’s entrance, that had three large gashes running across it. He squirted the polish and began rubbing it down. The damage didn’t go away. Badgerclops rubbed again, this time putting a little bit of elbow grease. The damage still didn’t go away. Badgerclops rubbed with all his might. Until the felt-block was snatched out of his hands by Jǐngtì.

Fuck! He didn’t even know he was awake. Jǐngtì glared at him, waving around the felt-block. “You forgot to take off the plastic,” he said.

Sure enough, the felt-block was still wrapped in the thin cellophane packaging. Whoops. Badgerclops reached for it;  Jǐngtì threw the package aside. “What are you doing,” he asked.

“Just trying to buff some chips in the wall.”

“Those look like scratches.”

You know, now that he actually paid attention they did look like claw marks. Badgerclops took out the golden finger and held it to the scratches.

“You think this made the marks?”

“No. That didn’t make the scratches. The finger doesn’t fit. The point enlarges to quickly and metal would leave much finer impressions in the wood.”

“Where’d you learn to spot tracks.”

“From my mom. She’s a bounty hunter, isn’t she?”

“Fair point, but who made those marks then?”

Jǐngtì unsheathed his claws and held it to the marks,” I don’t know. Mao Mao certainly didn’t make these. They don’t match cat claws.”

“Wait, so does that mean Mao Mao got into a fight with a third person?”

“I suppose?”

“Then who was that third person?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you’ll get an idea after going the fuck to sleep.”

With that Jǐngtì hobbled off and went back to sleep. Badgerclops might as well follow his lead. He went to sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

Badgerclops woke up the sound of his alarm? No, it was the doorbell. At least he knew it worked. Jǐngtì was still asleep, or maybe he wasn’t. He liked faking it alot apparently. He probably was awake. Whoever was at the door spammed the doorbell like they were pretending they were Mao Mao if he hated doorbells. Badgerclops got up, stretched and went for the door. The door took a bit of effort to open. Huh, going to need to fix that , he noted to himself.

On the other side of the door was Penny and Benny. Aw shit . He totally forgot about the 2-hour delivery, considering their furrowed brows, their clenched fist, and the hellish fursy in their eyes Badgerclops probably had them waiting quite some time. At least they waited.

“We waited four hours ,” the pink one screamed at him.

“And I don’t regret it, now where’s the furniture I bought?”

They unloaded the furniture off the truck. Badgerclops expected it to be in pieces like an IKEA puzzle, but it was all in one piece. Good, saved time. Badgerclops went to wake Jǐngtì up, but the bedspread was empty. He kept an eye out but didn’t look for him. Jǐngtì was bound to show up sooner or later. He was directing the duo as they set down the furniture when he felt a hand brush up against his back. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

Jǐngtì gave Badgerclops little more than a glance as he toppled over. He was too busy sorting through a bunch of candy and knick-knacks in his hands.

“You’re just like your dad. Too sneaky for your own good.”

“Don’t compare me to him.”

Badgerclops quickly changed the subject. “Where’d you disappear to?”

“Just took those two’s wallets and went through the truck,” he said flatly,” look at these goobers. They didn’t have any cash, just... this .”

He showed Badgerclops the random crap he stole. Sure enough, the gummy worms he gave them were mixed in.

“You shouldn’t steal.”

“I’m not going to stop.”

“That doesn’t mean stealing is okay, even if Penny and Benny are... odd. I didn’t know they ran the supply store and the delivery service, but I’m not going to judge them for it.”

“They don’t run both shops,” Jǐngtì said. “The ones who run that shop are Lenny and Jenny, their twins or something.”

“What? They don’t have twins.

“Are you sure? How many times have you seen those two doing different jobs? It's all different people. Like nurse Joy. A bunch of different people who look alike.”

Badgerclops felt the need to disagree yet he couldn’t find any counterargument. The valley having a large litter of twins wouldn’t even be that bizzare.

“Huh, Badgerclops slowly nodded,” I didn't know that.”

Jǐngtì raised an eyebrow. “Did you know I also wrote gullible on the ceiling?”

“I’m not gonna fall for that.”

“So you’re too smart for that, but not enough to realize that dozens identical twin duos doesn’t make any sense?”

“Do you just make things up to mess with people?”

“Yes. Was that not clear?”

They continued the conversation until Penny and Benny walked up to them and held out their hands. Badgerclops didn’t know what they wanted, so he took a guess and gave them a high five. That wasn’t the answer. Their brows furrowed and he could see veins popping on the yellow one’s neck. Gross.

“So, what do you want little guys-”

Badgerclops was immediately taken aback when they screamed,” we want to get paid.”

“Alright, alright. Geez just take my gummy worms and go.”

They did take the gummy worms, but they did not leave.

“This isn't enough,” the pink one said.

He handed them some more gummy worms, but they still didn’t leave. “This still isn’t enough,” the yellow one said.

“Well, how much do you want?”

“Enough to cover the 2-hour delivery and then four hours waiting so six hours.”

“Doesn’t feel like six hours-” Badgerclops stopped, realizing that he forgot again.

He turned back outside to the aerocycle. “Right, haven’t fixed it yet,” he groaned, looking for an alternative.

Penny and Benny’s truck was looking rather fine.

“Hey, Jǐngtì. Hold those two down for a bit,” he shouted over his shoulder,” I gotta pick up Adorabat.”

Amazingly enough, the doors were unlocked. It's been a while since he drove something with wheels. He’d have to manage.  First came the ignition, and he doesn’t have the keys. He was about to find some other way when Jǐngtì tossed him the keys.

“Didn’t you say that stealing is wrong,” the kid snidely asked.

Badgerclops started the engine, “do as I say not as I do,” he called out as he headed into town.

* * *

Badgerclops managed to arrive early by his standards. Adorabat wasn’t the only one waiting on the school steps, at least. Badgerclops honked the horn to get her attention. She started looking for the noise when he kept honking the horn. Badgerclops had to lean out the window and wave at her to get her attention.

“How was school,” he asked.

“Skewl was fine.”

He never understood why she pronounced ‘school’ like that. Was it a regional Pure Heart Valley dialect?

“Where’d you Penny and Benny’s truck,” she asked.

“I borrowed it,” he lied, driving off.

On the way, he passed by the blob again. This time he was sure it had gotten larger. More concerning, it had taken more sweetipies hostage. He’d have to deal with that sooner rather than later.

“Is Jǐngtì still home,” she asked abruptly.

“He likes disappearing, but he should still be there. Why do you ask?”

“He kinda scares me.”

Badgerclops would disagree if he didn’t understand why.  Jǐngtì had kidnapped Adorabat. Kidnapping makes a horrible first impression. He would have thought that was obvious if he and Tanya hadn’t done it. He guessed that was one thing he had in common with his mother. He would ask if Mao Mao scared her, but he decided that was a question for Ol’ Blue or someone better at parenting.

* * *

Badgerclops drove back to HQ. Jǐngtì had tied up Penny and Benny were sitting on them to keep them from leaving, although it looks like the sweetipies had given up trying to resist. He let the sweetipies go at Badgerclops’ behest, cutting the rope only to have it turn into a leaf. They quickly got in their truck and left. Badgerclops wasn’t eager to stop them if it means he didn’t have to pay. Almost assuredly not legal, but Badgerclops wasn’t going to arrest himself, now was he?

He had to commend the kid's work ethic. He finished getting all the furniture in himself without being told. Or maybe he just wanted to sleep in an actual bed tonight. Badgerclops ordered pizza before finally getting the TV working. The pizza arrived, and the three of them stayed up late into the night. He put her and Jǐngtì to bed before putting the final touches on the repairs.

He was done before dawn, but having a working TV was reason enough to stay up till dawn. Creeaak . Badgerclops turned his head to find Jǐngtì silently sneaking out.

“Where you going,” he asked.

“Probably back to the Sky Pirates.”

“You can stay if you want.”

“Nah, you have to pick Mao Mao today, don’t you?”

That was today, wasn’t it?

“Well, you’re always welcome to come over.”

“Yeah, well… uh, next time my dad isn’t here I wouldn’t mind spending the night again.”

“I’ll be sure to do that. Oh! Before you go,” Badgerclops quickly got up and gave the kid a hug. It wouldn't have been so awkward if Jǐngtì didn’t go freakishly stiff. “Woah, you good, little dude?”

“Yeah, just didn’t expect that.”

They said quick goodbyes as Jǐngtì left. With a few hours to spare Badgerclops figured he might as well get some sleep.

* * *

He meant to pick Mao Mao up at 10 in the morning, instead, he brought him back at noon. It would've been later if Adorabat didn’t beat against his stomach like a drum to wake him up. He carried Mao Mao inside because the fool refused to use his crutches. He looked over HQ with a weird look in his eyes and a flicker of the ear.

“You good,” Badgerclops asked.

“Yeah, just put me down for a second.”

Badgerclops obliged, but he still had Mao Mao lean on him for support.

“Things... look different,” mumbled Mao Mao/

“ I had to buy some new furniture and stuff-”

“Mao Mao!” Bagderclops was interrupted by Adorabat flying in from the kitchen. She slammed right into Mao Mao’s chest for a hug; wouldv’e knocked him off his feet if Badgerclops wasn’t there.

“I’m glad you're back,” she said.

“It’s good to be back,” he said, accepting her embrace.

#fanfic #MMHOPH #Mao Mao #Badgerclops #Adorabat