#i am so done with you kieran

[cowboyfromh3ll]

Henlo! If it's alright, could I request some headcanons for Arthur, Dutch, Hosea, Micah, and Kieran being told that their S/O has been killed by the O'Driscolls? But nobody can find their body because it turns out they survived and took care of the worst of their injuries before making it back a week or so later. I am a sucker for hurt/comfort content. Thank you for your time and hope you're doing well.

HC For VDL Boys Being Told Their S/O Was Killed By O'Driscolls Ft. Arthur Morgan, Dutch Van Der Linde, Hosea Matthews, Micah Bell, Kieran Duffy

Ohhh nice and angsty

Warnings: Mentions of death, mentions of violence, angst

Arthur Morgan

He would be absolutely broken

I don't think he'd go as far as to go out and kill O'Driscolls for revenge

But a new cavity in his heart would open up, and his hatred of the O'Driscolls would intensify

He wouldn't be able to get out of bed, would be incapable of taking care of himself, needs people to remind him to eat

Constantly scribbling in his journal about you

Probably the first time anyone in camp has seen him cry in a long long time

Only thing he'd get up for was to go in searches for your body

Is incredibly anxious the entire time they're looking for you and tries to mentally prepare himself for the sight of your body in who knows what state of decomposition

Once you return he'd think you're an apparition

He would be absolutely over the moon and crying tears of joy and relief

Interrogates you about your time gone but doesn't push it if the memories are too painful, you can visit that later

Helps mend any of your remaining injuries

Incredibly protective of you now and refused to let you go off on your own for a while

Holds you so so closely in bed the following nights, absolutely blots out the rest of the world with his body because he's scared if he lets go you'll disappear again

Dutch Van Der Linde

Like Arthur, he'd be destroyed as well

His mourning would cause him to jump to the anger stage immediately

Colm has already taken one lover from him, and now he's done it again? Tensions between the two gangs would be higher than ever before

He'd use the presumed death as an excuse to target Colm and the O'Driscolls for the week

Used the search for your body as an opportunity to interrogate and torture O'Driscolls. For once, he tells Arthur to back off so he can get blood on his hands

Despite everyone else's warnings, he just keeps on going and killing more O'Driscolls

When you finally return, he feels like he's hallucinating you because of his grief, and anger

Allows everyone else a moment to check over you before ushering you over to the privacy of his tent

Allows Ms. Grimshaw to follow so she can clean you up while he talks to you

Holds your hand the entire time and looks into your eyes while reassuring you that he'll never allow that to happen again

Insists you don't lift a finger for weeks afterward

Does NOT tell you about what he did while you were gone and simply speaks of his grief and his now relief that you're back

Hosea Matthews

He'd be grieving, but silently

He wouldn't be MIA like Arthur, and he definitely wouldn't be blinded by rage like Dutch

But he'd be a lot quieter, understandably, and you'd be able to see the deep sadness in his eyes

He didn't expect to lose a second lover, and his heart is heavy with feelings of loss

Would spend a lot of time talking about you to anyone who'll listen, mostly good memories

Turns down any of Dutch's suggestions to go out and take revenge, sees right through his attempts to use your presumed death as an excuse to kill a bunch of O'Driscolls

When you return he is all over you and is overjoyed by your presence

Takes care of all your injuries on his own and holds you sooo close the entire time

Reminds you how much he loves you because he feels like he didn't do it enough before he thought he lost you

Spends so much more time around you. If he wasn't attached to you by the hip before, he definitely is now

I don't think he'd doubt your ability to handle yourself; in fact, it'd probably be enforced by the fact you kept yourself alive for a week. But there'd be a lingering anxiety every time you go out

Micah Bell

Similar to Dutch, he'd go out and kill a shit ton of O'Driscolls

His grief translates to anger, and because I can't see him as a very sentimental person besides in terms of anger, that's the only way he'd express it

Probably wouldn't cry or show moments of vulnerability, but he'd be a lot more brutal in his killings

He'd spend a lot of time away from camp with Dutch probably looking for your body

Wouldn't return to camp for days

So you'd probably return to camp while he's gone, so everyone else tends to you before Micah can

When he returns he insists everyone else get away from you so he can take his own look at you

I wanna say you wouldn't receive a big welcome back gesture from Micah besides a rare shred of vulnerability where he tells you how happy he is to see you back

Don't get too mushy over it or else he'll backtrack

Kieran Duffy

He'd be HYSTERICAL

On his knees crying and wailing in the middle of camp while people try to comfort him

Would be the same level as MIA as Arthur and wouldn't talk to ANYONE

Spends all his time around the horses and doesn't talk to anyone

If anyone does try to talk to him he just stares off silently in the opposite direction

The gang could probably hear him sobbing silently at night while trying to sleep

Drinks himself half dead because he doesn't know how else to cope

Drinks so often that when you come back he doesn't think you're real for a few minutes

It's a huge moment of vulnerability between the two of you where you see each other at your lowest

But it would definitely bring the two of you closer! After the two of you have cleaned yourselves up and taken care of yourselves, you'd have long, deep conversations about what you went through and how happy you are to be back

Lots of reaffirming his love for you, never leaves your side

Insists he comes with you every time you go out. Thinks he wouldn't be able to do much in terms of protecting you, but the sentiment is so so sweet

Becomes more of a way of comforting himself and quelling his own anxiety

[strang3lov3]

Holy fuck! Not one, but TWO milestones to celebrate!

Sometime in April I hit 5000 followers and I was gonna celebrate then, but with my one year fic anniversary gbu899i (< my cat Gizmo typed this, we're leaving it here. Everyone wave to him) and mostly because the end of the semester right around the corner, I decided to wait until May in order to give this the attention it deserves. Here we are! May 10th marks one year of me writing fic here on tumblr, and I want to celebrate both achievements.

Your support has played such a vital role in making writing such a gratifying hobby of mine. Whether you’ve been here since I started writing a year ago or just recently stumbled across my blog, it means the world to me. Having people read, like, reblog, comment, and engage with my fics is beyond fucking incredible. You keep me inspired to keep writing.

It’s not easy for me to stick to a hobby for a year. Ask the 20% finished afgan I started knitting two years ago that hasn’t been touched in months!! It’s beyond cool to have both a date on the calendar and such a pretty number to reflect how hard I’ve worked, and neither the date nor the number would be possible without you. Thank you 🩷

So we’re gonna celebrate. I haven’t done one of these before, unless you count the time I hit 2000 followers and said “send me requests!” and then did just one of them and zero others because I was so overwhelmed. So we’re taking a slightly different approach this time…

I’m thinking an extended sleepover, lol. Depending on how many participate, for a week or so you can send me asks from the prompts below and we’ll have some fun with them.

@noxturnalpascal and @beefrobeefcal heavily inspired these choices with their recent follower celebrations 🩵

🐈‍⬛ Show and tell - send me pics of your pets, or Pedro if you don’t have any pets, brownie points for Kieran Culkin pics, or anything else that you love. And tell me all about it, and I’ll show you something I love! 👯‍♀️ I want to get to know each other better, so tell something about yourself or ask something about me. If you want, you can use this and this (⬅️ two send an emoji posts) for prompts 🏞️ Request a Moodboard (my favorite) I love doing moodboards, just tell me what you wanna see and I’ll do my best. 🗳️Send me a poll that you wanna see! Ask any question, let us all decide the answer. 🍆 Send me your dirty horny old man headcanons. I’m a horndog for some old men and I can’t change who I am. 📖 Send me your own writing (or another’s work that you love) I actually have a summer reading project where I’ve tagged each and every one of my mutuals to send me their own works for me to read all summer. So consider this just an extension of that- please send me the links to works you’ve written and/or works you’ve read and enjoyed so that I can enjoy them too and support fellow writers ✍️ 🩷 I enjoy just about anything, but I have a soft spot for dark/dub-con, masturbation, uhhhh anything hot and dirty like that. 👩‍💻Request some writing. I can do Joel, Roman Roy, and I’m maaaybe feeling brave about Frankie. @beefrobeefcal has dibs on my first Frankie fic anyway. Horny and debauched thots encouraged, dare I suggest dark as well? Fluff too, though I think I suck balls at writing it. I’ve been told I should do drabbles,,, that’s not really how I roll with my writing but I’m willing to try. It’s entirely possible and actually likely you’ll get a full length fic, in which case, it’ll take some time to get those done so bear with me. Depending on how many requests for writing I get, I may cut off requests at a certain point too. *It’s also possible I won’t jive with your idea, in which case please don’t feel bad. I only want to write something I feel I can do well, and if I can’t, that’s not on you.

GOD I am a rambler. I could have said so much less. But I hope to hear from some of you all and have some fun! Love you love you love you.

Tagging some friends, readers, and mutuals who’ve made writing what it is for me 🩷 I love you all @ievutebebe @pinkypromisepascal @yazsos @heartfairy @magpiepills @medellintangerine @merz-8 @bitchesuntitled @theweedisasterxoxo @covetyou @theywhowriteandknowthings @futuraa-free @smok3r7 @toxicanonymity @atticrissfinch @xdaddysprincessxx @whatsnewalycat @addictedtotlou @littlevenicebitch69 @marisferasiop @joelsgreys @just-some-random-blogger @ghostlovesbaguettes @sweetenerobert @swiftiegirliepop @joeloverture @dorims @munsonhoneybaby @umnitsa @nostalxgic @yazsos @rainbowcosmicchaos @rav3n-pascal22 @604to647 @starry-eyes-love @paleidiot @bluecookies-and-ink @beardedjoel @aestheticisinq @corazondebeskar @axshadows @kyloispunk @survivingandenduring @pedroswife69 @bean-is-reading @pedroshotwifey @casa-boiardi @knittingandfanfics @molt3ngold @worhols @iknowisoundcrazy @nostalxgic @pattwtf @cerridwen007 @corozondebeskar @blackmetalamazon @jazzysnazzys @sheepdogchick3 @alltheseperfectimperfections @mermaidgirl30

[milliemuus]

PV!Kieran has a THEME now!

I won't be releasing on youtube atm as I'd like to tweak some things, but since I can't seem to get artwork done atm on POKÉMON DAY of all days

I would like for you all to have this! I recently commissioned NOIX on Fiverr to make a theme for him, and I am VERY satisfied with the result!

Also, massive MASSIVE credits to @agentc0rn for the artwork! It's a little cropped, but I will most likely will post the full image in its own post! I was so gobsmacked by the fact they had drawn him 😭💕

Anyways, I know Project Venus is slow work and making its move to a03, but please bear with me! Happy Pokémon Day!

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

I liked Kieran, maybe only because he reminded me of myself as a kid. Constantly feeling left out and being both harassed for everything you do do and never being trusted with anything to even proof yourself capable, like the knowledge about the truth about ogerpon. I still am, working on that, but was way more jealous of other people hanging out with my friends simply because I had so precious few. Idk how much it would have fucked with me if my verbally abusive older sister (I do also have one of those) simply decided that one of my friends was now one of hers instead and kicking me out while my friend isn't saying or doing anything to be like "no, actually I want to spend time with [anon] too".

Obviously his obsession with ogerpon and the following Drive to get stronger is pretty hyperbolic but I did also have a bit of that. Just rejecting everything, throwing everything back at everyone since it was, or at least felt, like its always my family and the people around me just throwing shit at me too. Did I overreact a bunch of times? Oh yeah for sure. Teenage tantrums will get ya, but I really did need that. Without it I don't think I would have ever learned to call out my family's abuse and other people treating me poorly. Since as a kid that just radiates low self esteem you seem to get treated like shit from just about everyone.

Anyway all that is to say, throwing around things like "I think this kid would shoot up a school if only he had access to guns" isn't, imho, great. And I don't even really particularly care about your instance rn, like it's a fictional character in a Pokémon game who cares. So sorry for being the one who got my rant lol. It's just something I've been seeing more of lately, people throwing "they'd shoot up a school" not only at fictional characters but actual human beings. Which I think is fucked. Thankfully no one ever said that to me, but I cannot imagine how hurtful that must be, like if we ignore all the other negative effects it has for a second, when your actual school life was hell enough to make you consider ending your own life, like it was for me, to just get thrown another brick at your head that people think you would be monster enough to murder people.

...well there's a lot to unpack here.

So first up, you have my genuine condolences for your extraordinarily shitty school life. You clearly had the very rough end of the stick, and it's clearly still hurting, and that sucks.

However. I am not thrilled that you just trauma dumped in my inbox because you over-projected onto a fictional character, and I'll ask you not to do that again. Particularly when your "rant" is explicitly aimed at trying to make me feel bad for criticising a fictional character that you, once again, have over-projected onto.

Like listen, I too had an extraordinarily shitty school life, and I also had very few friends (and at three separate extended points, a combination of Literally No Friends At All, AND Being Actively Targeted For Bullying; the first time around, the bullying was led by the class teacher, even.) I have very much been there, done that and got an entire t-shirt shop. But I still didn't come away from that feeling that I was entitled to other people liking me or wanting to be friends with me, because no one is obliged to like or be friends with anyone else. I may have occasionally felt jealous, but I didn't throw tantrums and demand perfect loyalty from the few friends I did make, because that would have been abusive as all hell and would have justly made them want nothing to do with me. And, crucially and relevantly to the fictional character in the fictional world that we are discussing, I did not fixate on someone I wanted to be my friend, see that they were afraid of me and wanted to be friends with someone else, and then throw such a tantrum about it that I physically fought that someone else for the 'rights' to that friend regardless of their consent in that matter, apparently with the intention of abducting them if I won. And on losing that fight, I did not storm off and start amassing a collection of stronger and stronger weapons so I could take over my school and prove my dominance over them, emotionally abusing anyone who couldn't keep up with me because of family problems along the way. I presume you did not either!

And if I had, then the trauma and loneliness I received would be irrelevant - actions borne of trauma are still actions, with real world consequences, and you are still responsible for them regardless of how bad you felt.

(I mean, not to put too fine a point on it, but school shooters are people who are also lonely and often bullied. It's very interesting therefore that you dismiss them as "monsters" while demanding that all behaviour from such people up to the shooting be excused. But the issue with such people is the entitlement they feel and the abuse they therefore dish out. Shootings are just the most extreme symptom of that - they're far from the only symptom.)

I cannot stress this enough - you are not the fictional character of Kieran in the game Pokémon Scarlet and Violet. You did not make his choices, or perform his actions (I assume). Criticism of him is not criticism of you. No one is accusing you of being about to shoot up a school. You state that you don't care that he's a fictional character, but I'm afraid you very much should, because that is the crucial difference. I am sorry that you're seeing a lot of people accusing real life people of being school shooters, but that is not what has happened here, is it?

You're welcome to write back. But I'll warn you very clearly - I am absolutely not at home to you trauma dumping further, or trying to make me feel guilty for talking about a fictional character because you have over-projected and therefore are taking it personally. That is a You Problem, and I will block you without reading if you do.

However, I am going to finish by reiterating my very genuine sympathies for your school experience. It truly was an appalling time for me, and it seems like it was for you, too. I hope you can process that trauma now, and find peace.

[dipplinduo]

I don’t know why but I see Kieran trying to use a pick up line on Juliana yet it comes out so bad like:

Kieran: Hey, I hear you like bad boys

Juliana: I guess?

Kieran: Good, because I’m bad at everything—

Juliana: KIKI NOOOO 😭😭😭

STOP IN THE NAME OF LOVE

OH MY GOD

THIS IS ELITE. TOP TIER. INCREDIBLE. SHOWSTOPPER. IM DONE THIS IS A+++++ I AM DYING I LOVE EVERY PART OF THIS THE WORLD MUST KNOW ABOUT YOUR BRILLIANCE

[secretsofblackthornhall]

Julian To Kieran

PRIVATE COMMUNIQUE: DO NOT SHARE ON PAIN OF DEATH

From: Julian Blackthorn of Blackthorn Hall

To: Kieran, King of Unseelie

Well, we’re back from the Seelie Court. Good news: we got the fish slice. Bad news: we didn’t learn very much and we raised a lot of suspicion. But I’m happy to share with you how things went in the hope that you will find it informative. I hope also that you will consider it sufficient exchange for the favor you now owe a phouka. (I am pretty sure that favor will involve asking you to buy a hat.)

We were pretty nervous about going, even with Adaon’s invite—the last time we were in Faerie, things were not great. It was all gray smoke and snow and moths and blasted areas of dead land. All of that seems to be over and done with; Faerie looks healthy again. It was autumn there, and the ground was covered in fallen leaves, all red and gold.

Anyway, we followed Adaon’s instructions and entered Faerie through an old barrow at Primrose Hill. We ended up in a forest clearing with two big wooden doors rising up out of the ground. And Adaon was there to meet us, which was nice of him.

But he did not look happy. He hurried over and explained that he had had to tell the Queen we were coming. “There isn’t much that occurs under her roof,” he said, “of which she is unaware. It is how she has maintained her power all this time, in part.”

He looked so miserable that Emma told him it was all fine and we weren’t doing anything that the Queen would disapprove of, or even care about. He just kind of shook his head. “One never knows just what her Majesty will care about. Or disapprove of. She has bid me take you both to the throne room upon your arrival, and so that is what I must do.”

Now I began to feel a bit more nervous. I reminded Adaon that he had guaranteed our safety. He said, “By the laws of hospitality, not to mention the Accords, she may not harm you or detain you, if your purpose be virtuous.” But he was shaking his head again.

“Let me guess,” I said. “The Queen has the exclusive power to decide if our purpose is virtuous or not.”

Adaon smiled thinly. “Quite.” But he brought us to the throne room.

The throne room was just as autumn-themed as the clearing. More so, really. But it wasn’t about the end of the growing season or being sad that summer was over. It was more like a harvest celebration. There were cornucopias, is what I’m saying, spilling over with gourds, apples, pears, corncobs. There were hay bales, which is kind of funny since nobody in that throne room has, I promise you, ever baled hay. There were pixies with fiery butterfly wings, circling the ceiling.

The Queen was, not surprisingly, on her throne. She wore a dress that I swear, was entirely made of glittering green scarab beetles sewed together. Her hair was like an explosion of red-gold flames around her face. She doesn’t look sickly or emaciated anymore, like she did when we last saw her, and she seemed to exude a power she’d been missing before. 

There were the usual groups of faeries scattered around the room—courtiers, I guess—gossiping, tittering, sometimes just sitting around being louche. So everything seemed normal there. They barely paid attention to us, just kind of craned their necks over, realized we weren’t interesting, and got back to lounging.

I expected the Queen to immediately start insulting us, but she was actually quite cordial. Not warm. But not unfriendly, either. Of course, she did want to be complimented on the décor first. She waved her hand around at the throne room and opened with, “You choose a fair season to visit us.”

“It’s cheerier than last time,” Emma said.

“And yet you have chosen to return,” the Queen said, as though she was pleased about it, “despite the…lack of cheer at our last meeting.”

“It has been a long time since we saw our friend Adaon,” I said. “We sought the pleasure of his company.”

“Sayest thou such?” said the Queen, which I suspect is Faerie-speak for So, that’s obviously bullshit.  “As you must know, it is not outside the realm of my knowledge that your brother is the consort of the Unseelie King.”

“Only one of his consorts,” Emma pointed out.

The Queen ignored her. “Surely you’ve anticipated that I would suspect you of espionage.”

“We are not here for the Unseelie King,” I said, “but rather regarding our interests in the Seelie Court. Indeed, our family is connected to the Seelie Court in several ways. As you know.”

The Queen ignored me as well. “Your best defense, it seems to me, is that you are such obvious choices for espionage, that surely Kieran Kingson [I think this was meant to be an insult to you, me or both of us] would be cleverer than to choose you as his spies.”

“That too,” Emma said.

“Well, then,” the Queen said. “Spin me a tale. What is your purpose here?”

I felt like we had nothing to lose with the truth—we really weren’t doing anything the Queen should care about. So I gave her the whole story: we inherited a house in London; the house is cursed; we want to undo the curse. I emphasized that neither the house nor the curse were fey-related at all. (I did not bring up Round Tom, as I thought it would be distracting to the main point.)

Breaking the curse requires that (among other things) we get our hands on this fish slice; we’ve learned the fish slice is or was in the possession of Socks MacPherson the phouka; we’ve come to bargain with him for it, and we arranged an invitation through Adaon because we had no way to contact MacPherson directly.

“All we need to do,” Emma said, “is barter with MacPherson for the fish slice. We can do it right here in the throne room, if he could be sent for.”

The Queen looked very interested all of a sudden. “You are willing to do the business here, and never enter the Court proper at all?”

I explained to the Queen that we strongly shared her desire for us not to have to enter the Court.

She seemed surprised, but she called over one of the courtiers and murmured to him. “The phouka will be sent for,” she said. “Prince Adaon, when the Nephilim have concluded their negotiation with him, you will escort them back outside and see them off.” Adaon bowed his assent. “And now,” she said, and her eyes flicked over to one side, “I must beg your pardon, as I see that I am needed.”

We stepped aside to let her descend the throne. I saw that a man had come in who I didn’t recognize—but he was clearly someone of importance given how differently he was dressed than anybody else there. Rather than garb appropriate to court, he was in a gray-green hooded cloak, and his face was obscured by a mask like a falcon head. His clothes were more appropriate to hunting in the woods than anything else, but they were perfectly clean. I didn’t know what to make of him—but I thought I had better pass along his description to you. You said to look for anything new or out of place, and I couldn’t help feeling like he was.

We waited around and chatted with Adaon for a couple of minutes and then Socks MacPherson showed up. We’ve met a couple phoukas before—one of them is the gatekeeper at the LA Shadow Market, as you might remember—and I had thought maybe MacPherson would turn out to be one of those, but no, totally different guy. He was wearing a huge round fur hat that his ears stuck through. It was a lot of hat.

 He seemed surprised that the Queen had left us alone, and said he was sorry if we had been harassed overmuch on his account. I said she had probably meant to loom over us but had been called away unexpectedly. MacPherson shrugged and said, “She thinks everything is a move in some game of five-dimensional chess she is playing. But sometimes, someone only wants to trade me something for a kitchen tool. Speaking of which, I have the fish slice.”

He took it out of a kind of carpet bag he had brought with him, and immediately the Ghost Sensor went off like crazy and he kind of jumped away and hid behind one of the groups of courtiers. Although we could still see his hat. (And his ears twitching above the hat.) So we had to go over and explain that it was just a device that detected the cursed objects we were looking for and that the noise was good because it confirmed that the fish slice was the one we wanted. The courtiers shooed us away; they had some important luxuriating to get to that we were delaying.

Socks grumbled that of course “that miserable Spoon” gave him a cursed fish slice. “I don’t know why I took the deal,” he said. “I don’t have any use for this thing. I’m a vegetarian.”

Finally he asked what we were offering, we told him a favor from you and explained how it was we were qualified to offer such a thing. He said the offer was acceptable and we took home the fish slice.

To sum up: Socks MacPherson is protected by the Seelie Court but didn’t blink at accepting a favor from the Unseelie Court. The Queen remains suspicious, both in the sense that she suspected us and in the sense that her behavior was itself weird. The Seelie Court is definitely hiding something, given how relieved the Queen was the minute she realized we weren’t going to actually leave the throne room and enter the court to look around. I have a feeling, based on nothing really — that it’s not a something but a someone that they’re concealing—if it was an object surely they could just hide it somewhere we wouldn’t see it? But, it’s just a feeling.

So that’s it. My deepest gratitude to you, as always, for all your help. I’m sure you were anticipating more information than the above, but hopefully it will be of some use to you.

Our love to Mark and Cristina, and to you of course. And above all, glory to Kraig.

Julian

[allzelemonz]

Red Dead Redemption Scenarios: Kissing an injury

Pronouns: None Mentioned Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: M/Injury, references to sex Warnings: Violence, injury, fluff, kissing

Abe: 

He slipped, hit his head against a post as he fell and you found him groaning on the ground.

“Are you alright, Abe?”

He sits up a little as your hands hold him steady. “Just hit my head, I’m alright, hon’.”

You push his hand aside and press a kiss to his head. His face turns pink as you pull him back to his feet.

“We should get back to.” He says, smiling to himself. “Thank you.”

You return his smile and he takes an extra second to press a quick kiss to your lips before he returns to moving the hay bales. He thinks about that until he sees you later in the day and you give him a proper kiss before fussing over his head.

Bill Williamson: 

“It ain’t that bad.” Bill grumbles.

You have a rag held to his shoulder, trying to stop the cut from bleeding. Some savage man in the forest swiped him with a knife while you were trying to rob their camp. It started as a first fight between him and Bill, then he cheated and pulled out a knife. Bill still won, but he got this deep cut that he insists doesn't hurt.

“It’ll hurt if it keeps bleeding.” You say, pressing the rag a little harder against him. “Or if it gets infected.”

“I’m fine.”

Despite his protests, he makes no move to leave or stop you from helping him. He raised his shirt so you could fuss over him to begin with. You’re starting to think he likes when you fuss over him like this. As if you don’t dote on him enough without him getting hurt in the process. You lean down and press a kiss to his skin, just above the cut.

“That supposed to help er something’?” Bill mutters.

“Yes.” You say, pressing another kiss to the same spot.

Bill stills as you do. “Oh.”

“Sit still, quit complaining, and I’ll kiss you somewhere more interesting.”

You can see Bill’s ears turn red as he lets your words settle in. He doesn’t say another word as you attend to him, relaxing more and more as you press gentle kisses to his skin as you wait for the bleeding to stop.

Charles Smith: 

He winces as the whiskey hits the cut, a low groan filling his chest.

“Sorry.” You mutter, focusing on ripping a spare shirt from your saddle bag to make a bandage.

“Not like you cut me.”

“No.” You tie the fabric around his arm. “Just shot the man that did.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“He hurt you, Charles.” You say, leaning down to press a kiss to his bare skin above the bandage. “I’d do it again a hundred times.”

He catches your arm, pulling you down to kiss you properly. “I can handle myself.”

“Tell that to the gash in your arm, Mister Smith.” You push him back and he smiles as you do.

“I didn’t know you were so protective.”

You cup his cheek. “Of you, of course I am.”

Colm O’Driscoll: 

He only lets you patch him up anymore. The bigger camps have medics but Colm doesn’t trust anyone more than you. So you’ve learned a lot of first aid and a few standard things that outlaws need. This one is easy, a bullet graze. At least it’s not a bullet hole. It barely got him, but he still winces as you give him tonic and look him over. You press a kiss to his arm, just above the wound in an unconventional attempt to get that look of pain off of his face.

He hums. “Come here, sugar.”

You follow as he beckons, leaning over him as he presses his lips to yours. His good arm lifts so his hand can grip your hair and hold you in place. You happily kiss him back, holding his face and relishing as he bites at your lip.

“Yer too good to me, sweetheart.” He muses against your lips.

“Stop getting shot, please, Colm.”

He smiles, his hand smoothing out your hair from where he messed it up. “Ain’t makin’ no promises.”

You press another kiss to his lips, a short one, before you return to dealing with his wound. He watches you, eyes half lidded as he imagines what he’ll do once you’re done.

Kieran Duffy: 

He tries to hide it when he comes into your tent, but when he tries to sit down the pain shows. He winces as he holds his ribs and you look at him with confusion.

“Are you hurt, Kieran?”

He shakes his head as he settles on the ground. “No, no. I’m, uh, I’m fine.”

“Kieran.”

“Really, I’m fine.” He gives you a small smile. “It ain’t nothing ya gotta worry about.”

You make your way over to him and sit down. He doesn’t stop you from resting your hand against his cheek, he smiles at you and leans into the touch.

“Don’t lie to me, Kieran.” You say, trying to seem gentle. “Please.”

He looks away from you as he thinks. Then he slowly lifts his shirt to show a heavy bruise on his torso.

“What happened?” You ask gently.

He shakes his head. “It weren’t nothin’. One a’ the horses got spooked. It was my fault, I shouldn’t a’ came up to ‘em so fast.”

You kiss his cheek and he quiets down, taking a deep breath. Then you lean down and press a soft kiss to the outer edge of the bruise.

“What’re ya doin’?” He asks with a smile on his face.

“Sometimes it feels better if you kiss it.” You explain, coming back up to kiss his cheek again. “And tonics, you need tonics too.”

Kieran leans in and presses a kiss to your lips. You happily return it before getting up to see Strauss about the medicine.

Micah Bell: 

Micah tries hard not to wince as you dab a clean rag over the cut by his hairline. He focuses on glaring at Baylock, who threw him right into a thorny bush. Being injured in such a way is unbecoming of the hardened outlaw.

“Quit looking at him like that.”

Micah huffs. “Stupid horse.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Suppose not.” He mumbles, looking over the now calm horse.

You press a kiss to the edge of the cut as you finish with the rag. “You love that horse, Micah. Quit glaring at him.”

He grabs you by the waist and tilts his head slightly. You take his signal and press another kiss to the edge of his cut.

“A proper one now.” He mumbles.

You oblige, pressing your lips together. He pulls you closer and deepens it as your hand finds his hair. A distressed noise from Baylock makes Micah pull away. The horse trots away from the area he was in, nervous.

“I got a yella horse now?” He mutters to himself.

You playfully push him. “Go see what’s wrong.”

Micah presses a quick kiss to your lips before he wanders over to Baylock and calms him. Based on the affections he gives the poor horse he’s not upset with him anymore, if he ever really was at all.

Sean MacGuire: 

“You didn’t have to punch him.” You mutter as you dab a wet rag over Sean’s knuckles.

“Course I did.” Sean says, his leg bouncing from the energy left of the fight. “Turd was talkin’ bad about Dutch.”

You stare at him for a minute as he chews the inside of his cheek, still irritated. Slowly, you bring his hand up and press a gentle kiss to his battered skin. Sean looks over at you quickly a smile forming on his face.

“Gonna make it better, are ya, love?” He lifts his hand back up. “Go on then.”

You press another kiss to the injury and Sean grins. He leans in and kisses you properly, his high energy still very apparent as his hands wander lower and lower until they find what he wants.

[yellowkitkieran]

To Have and to Heal (Part 14)

Masterlist

Read part 1 here

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Single working dad Martin Odegaard is navigating the ups and downs of parenthood all on his own, and he’s struggling. That’s not to mention football, life and... love?

Martin should be focused on today's match. In less than two hours, he'll be out on the pitch to captain his side. He needs clarity. He needs precision. He needs to stop thinking about you. 

But everywhere he looks, he's reminded of you. He can't bring himself to delete the dozens of photos on his phone or the messages you've sent him. The note you stuck in his duffle one day still hangs in his cubby, shoved between the shelf and the back wall. Martin aches worse now than being plowed over by a defender. How is he expected to lead when he is a husk of who he's meant to be? 

Martin runs a hand through his hair. At no point did he expect to become this attached, to have his mood so dependent on another person. He doesn’t like it, not at all. 

"Mate, you giving this talk or am I?" Kieran's Scottish accent grates on Martin's ears for no good reason. Kieran has been doing that quite a bit lately; he talks quietly about the woman he’s started seeing, and is careful to avoid doing so in Martin’s presence, but it still stings. At least someone on his squad is happy. 

Though grateful for the offer, Martin shakes his head. Team talks ahead of games are his responsibility, and he'll be damned if he misses it because you dumped him. Heartbreak aside, he needs to be the captain his team needs him to be.

So, Martin clamors to his feet. He forces his shaking legs to work, to remain steady, whilst his mind works through the fog surrounding it. Each step he takes towards the center of the sparsely decorated away dressing room feels like he is wading through waist-high molasses. But Martin has always been a fighter, and today is no different. 

“Facing anyone away from home is tough," Martin starts a minute later. He sounds more confident than he feels, which he is grateful for. "Nothing we haven't won before, though. Their fans are harsh but we are strong. We've faced worse and come away with three points. I'm not saying this will be a cakewalk." Martin observes the faces of his teammates, noting which seem hesitant and which are hungry. There's fewer of the former thankfully, which bodes well for their chances. 

"This will be both a physical and mental game. We haven't been challenged like this in over a month. Our last fixtures have been easy wins. No frills, nothing fancy- go back to your roots, the basics. Let's show our gunners what they traveled all this way for!"

Though far more brief than his usual, Martin's words have the desired effect regardless. The lads all clap and cheer, raring to go. Slipping into his matchday headspace is easier now that his teammates are here to lift him up. 

Not that it matters- ten minutes into the match Martin knows they’re done for. Sevilla batters Martin's side, raking them across the coals. A 3-0 loss away in the Champion's League isn't exactly a morale booster. The changing room is quiet after the final whistle blows. Arteta doesn't bother to give any sort of speech. The gaffer lets the silence speak for his disappointment, which somehow hurts more than if he had screamed at them for hours. Martin himself is too caught up in his head; his loose passing led to the goal that sealed their fate tonight, and that's not something he'll forgive himself for any time soon. 

On the ride from the stadium to the airport, Martin turns his phone over in his hand. In a perfect world, you would be at his house comforting Atla right now. The two of you would be cuddled up on his sofa, Atla probably insisting on being wrapped up in the duvet off Martin’s bed- that’s always her favorite on match day. 

The worst thing about an away loss is knowing that Atla’s nanny, bless her heart, won’t be able to keep Atla from crying. She hates seeing Arsenal lose, especially when it’s in the Champion’s League. Her poor nanny is probably frantically attempting to soothe her, though Martin is certain Atla won't calm down until he is home early tomorrow. 

If Martin is sure of anything, it’s that he needs to get his mind off of his lackluster performance. Because if he fixates on it, he’ll be lost in his head for who knows how long. Martin, as the face of his team, needs to be focused on the bigger picture. Arsenal still tops their group, regardless of tonight’s result; though even that knowledge cannot lift his heart enough. 

Messaging you might possibly be the worst idea he's ever had. He convinces himself to tuck his phone away until he's on the plane. There, crammed between the window and a snoozing Aaron, he can no longer resist temptation. Martin connects to the onboard wifi and pulls up your contact. 

He shouldn't. 

It's a bad idea, right? 

Fuck it. 

I miss you. If I asked if you're free tomorrow night what would you say?

Delivered at 21:53. Martin stares at the screen until his eyes grow heavy. The 'no new messages' in the app hangs over his head. When Martin falls asleep against his will, he dreams of titans tumbling from their mountainous perches, crushed under the weight of unmet expectations. 

*********

Leaving Martin's message unread is an exercise in restraint. Your fingers itch to click on it for multiple reasons, not the least of which is genuine curiosity. You know it starts with 'I miss you' and includes some sort of question, though you have no idea what he'd be asking. Maybe he wants the kit he gave you back, but he's too afraid to ask outright. 

Whatever it is, it doesn't matter. It's Monday, which means your students are your focus, not your personal life. Throwing yourself into work has never been a problem; you find small tasks to keep you busy when your students are working quietly in groups. Things like testing whiteboard markers, sharpening pencils, organizing bookshelves. Anything that keeps you busy and on your feet is acceptable at this point. Motion means distraction, and distraction means you don't think about your phone sitting in your bag. 

Your prep period comes and goes without incident, as you plan your entire week of lessons in the hour-long session. Your best friend is absent today, meaning she thankfully doesn't barge in to bother you about your day with Martin. Thank the stars, because you aren't sure you could have that conversation without a breakdown. At least you only have a few more hours until the final bell rings, and then you only need to get through after school care before you can flop on your sofa with a container of ice cream. 

Your stomach ties itself in knots as you set up the gymnasium like you normally do. Coloring pages are laid out on the plastic picnic table, footballs are scattered around a child-sized goal, and snacks are set out for kids to grab as they come in. You keep yourself as busy as possible whilst they arrive. You recognize Atla’s laugh rising above her friend’s voices and force yourself to remain seated. After successfully avoiding speaking to Atla for nearly an hour, a glance at the clock confirms your fear: her guardian is late for pick up.

"Hey, Atla," you murmur, crouching down to her level and keeping your voice light. You're fully aware of how she bristles when you speak, her little shoulders going rigid. "Is your papa picking you up today?"

"I don't know." Atla turns her head slightly away, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth. It isn’t her responsibility to know who is meant to pick her up, but if you can avoid calling Martin to clarify…

You sigh through your nose while offering the child a smile, "do you remember him saying anything about pick up today? If someone different was coming by, maybe your uncle Kieran?"

Atla shrugs, continuing to color her cotton candy bunny. She sighs, purposely not offering you a pencil like she normally does. You know why, of course. You can’t exactly blame her for being frosty. 

Rationalizing with children is no simple feat. It isn't your place to sit down and explain to Atla what dating is, and why it isn't a sin for Martin to be dating her teacher. She's a toddler, and in her mind her mum will be coming back. Her mum would be devastated to find Martin with someone else, and that's all that matters to Atla. 

Instead of talking, you communicate in Atla's language. You pick up a purple pencil on your own and leaf through the printouts until you find one of a frog, then set about coloring it in. Atla pauses, clearly curious about your design, and watches you with bright blue eyes. You let her, wanting to repair the relationship you have with her above all else. It doesn't matter that your heart aches when you look at her and see Martin's features in her delicate face; she is a student and you love her the same as the rest.

You draw bright polka dots across the frog, determined to communicate in an easy, stress free way. Atla is an artist and as such, regardless of her age, her mind is soothed by creativity. You allow yourself to relax as Atla shows no signs of rejecting your companionship. You are all too aware of her eyes on you, following each streak of color you lay onto the page. It is an effort to remain quiet, letting the soft music playing from your desk across the room fill the silence. 

Finally, Atla squeaks out a question- "why were you kissing my papa?"

You mull the question over for a minute. You could lie, try and convince her that she had made it up. That would not be fair to anyone, especially Atla. No, the truth is best, especially because she will find out sooner or later. "Because I care about your papa very much. He means a lot to me, and that’s how I wanted to show him."

"You do?" Atla pauses to look up at you. “But I care about my friends a lot. I don’t kiss them! Papa said that’s only for people you love.” You afford her your undivided attention, setting your pencil down and sliding the page aside. Conscious of your body language, you refrain from crossing your arms to avoid closing yourself off. You have to be careful with what you say; the last thing you want is to admit your feelings to Martin’s tiny daughter. 

"Yes, I do. I care about your papa. You know how sometimes in films, when the princess is really sad, the prince comes along and cheers her right up? That's what your papa is for me." 

Atla's brow furrows like she's trying to picture it. She then sorts through the stack of coloring pages and pulls out one of Ariel and Eric, tapping the half-scribbled sheet, "like princess Ariel and her prince?"

You nod, thankful for her understanding. "Exactly. And I care about your papa so much that I'd let a sea witch take my voice," you lean over and pretend to grab at Atla, imitating stealing her voice from her throat like in the film. You continue when a delighted giggle fills the room, "and use it for her own plans. I'd be quiet my whole life if it meant I could be around your papa."

"I like when you talk. I don't want a sea witch to steal your voice." 

"Well then I'll just have to protect it won't I? Can't have you getting upset!" You playfully tap Atla's nose, earning you another giggle. Her wide smile has her dimples on full display, a sight which you admit you’ve missed almost as much as her pa’s.

Martin clears his throat from across the gym. That funny feeling in your stomach reappears with a vengeance. 

“Pa? Pa!” Atla's head turns and she immediately clamors over to him, her knee knocking the table in her haste to get up. Pencils roll to the ground and you bend to pick them up, forcing yourself to keep your eyes on your task and not on Martin. So studious are you that you refuse to look up even when a pair of black trainers edge into your view, followed closely by a pair of tiny white ones. 

“Hello,” Martin murmurs. Your entire body tenses at the sound of his voice. You haven't realized how viscerally you've missed it until you hear it. 

“Hello Mr. Ødegaard.” 

Martin doesn't speak just then. He doesn't need to; the title you've used says more than a thousand words ever could. 

Square one. 

“I apologize for being late. Training ran long,” Martin says with perfect formality. Gone is the hint of flirting you had come to expect. There are no traces of fondness. Instead his words are punctuated by an undercurrent of mourning. 

“It’s not a problem. Don't fret about it. Atla’s bag is on the coat hook- these are hers from today.” When you stand to hand over the drawings, you train your eyes on the crest on Martin's chest. You refuse to glance any higher. If you do, you know you won't be able to control yourself. One glance at his eyes and you'll crumble, and you cannot allow yourself to be so selfish. 

“Atla, grab your things please.” 

“Yes, pa.” Atla's little footsteps ring through the gymnasium, piercing in the silence. You and Martin both remain frozen, as your feet are glued to the polished wood beneath your feet. Your heart is an ocean in your ears. It pounds on your ribcage, begging and pleading to be set loose. Your fingers twitch at your side, joints aching to reach for him. You crave the familiarity of his lips, the burn that washed over you with each tiny kiss you shared. 

“You got my message the other day, right?”

“Oh- yes I saw something from you. I didn't read it though. Just got so busy, I must have forgotten.” Your stomach flips when Martin's posture slumps ever so slightly. You nearly reach out to comfort him but stop yourself at the last moment. 

“Right, of course.” Martin shifts on his feet, glancing at Atla quietly stacking cones. “I was trying to ask if you had some free time this week. Thought maybe we could do something.” 

You think back on the conversation you just had with Atla. Though she is incredibly mature for her age, you still don't feel right about having anything other than a professional relationship with Martin. “Mar I'm sorry, I can't-”

“Of course, I understand. Just thought I'd try one more time.” Martin smiles softly. The gesture does not reach his eyes. Martin looks so unlike himself, so timid and small, that you scarcely recognize him. “Atla, are you ready søta? It's time we get home, uncle Kieran is coming by to steal your chicken nuggets. We have to get there first or there won't be any left for you!”

“I told uncle Key those were mine!” Atla screeches, stomping over to Martin and grabbing his hand. “Come on pa! We have to go!” 

Neither father nor daughter glance at you as they make their way out. You remain rooted to the spot long after Atla's laughter fades. Cleaning up and locking the door upon your exit are the result of simply going through the motions. Muscle memory takes you home, barely remembering snips of the drive. 

The emptiness in your heart remains long after you have sunk yourself in a warm bath, wine glass in hand. Not red, never a red anymore, because you cannot stand the color. Even a deep merlot reminds you of him, of sharing that bottle in front of his fireplace the first night he’d invited you inside to chat. Neither of you had wanted to leave, though you reminded him that you had to be up early in the morning. 

The pinkish washcloth you run over your arms was once a vibrant cherry red. Even that stings more than you care to admit. More wine, another glass, anything to stave off the tears threatening to fall. Why did you have to say yes to that first date? Why did you cross that line, blurring the boundary between professional and personal?

It takes one more glass of wine before you find yourself reaching for your phone, splattering soapy suds across the tile.

Could we talk? 

[painful-pooch]

Captain Down

The time for waiting is over! Here is the debut to the Hostage Arc! I hope this is a fun little chapter to start things off with. Please enjoy!

Bru Bru tag list: @cpt-winters, @redd956, @straight-to-the-pain, @technom0ose, @actress4him, @whumperofworlds, @i-eat-worlds, @inscrutable-shadow, @gala1981, @thethistlegirl, @ocean-blue-whump, @noirineverysense, @steelandblood, @crash-bump-bring-the-whump

CWs: military whump, war, gunshot wounds, blood, injury, bombing and explosions, gunfire, death of random soldiers

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you have your eyes on the target, Kieran?” Bruno asks, leaning against the wall, huffing from the quarter mile sprint he just had to do after he was spotted. He tilts his head back, groaning while the heavy gear he has on makes him sweat unbelievable amounts. He doesn’t have time to wipe the sweat dripping from his brow or nose, his fingerless gloves gripping his weapon tightly. It wasn’t even a terrible run, but with the sun burning them from above, it makes it more unbearable to even be out. A mission is still a mission, however, and it makes the man even more committed to getting the job done. “Kieran, you better not be napping on me. Respond.”

He hears the crackling of a mic coming to life, followed by a sarcastic, “You know, Bruno, it’s kind of hard to find a target when a bunch of Tangos (targets) are all after your ass. Give me a minute.” Kieran has a smart mouth on him, but that’s what you get when the Navy has to give away one of their best SEAL operators, especially one so skilled with a sniper.  

“A minute? Wow… seems like you are losing your edge, Navy boy,” Valdemar’s voice comes in, gravely like an Army Sergeant’s voice would be after screaming nonstop. A chuckle or two later, he continues, “I am surprised Bruno over there can even run as fast as he did. Fuck, he left a cute little plume of dust in his way. How are the joints doing, old man? I think I could hear them creaking all the way over here. No wonder everyone was on you.”

Bruno can’t help but growl back playfully into the mic, “Valdemar, you damn asshole. Shut your mouth unless you have something important to say. What have I said about keeping the channel clear of any unnecessary bullshit? Keep your vest on, your ears clear, your eyes open, your head on a swivel, and your mouth shut.” 

Kieran’s humming is all Valdemar gets in response from the prideful Naval operator, instead Miranda’s voice coming in. “Leave Kieran alone, Val. The man has better eyesight than your Army ass. Shit, give me a second-“ the sounds of gunfire and a thud on the ground made Bruno’s heart pound loudly in his ears. 

“Miranda,” he breathes out, taking a moment to check his surroundings. She was always so ballsy and trying to prove her worth on the team. It doesn’t matter how many times they all told her, she just has to work unbelievably hard while putting her own life at risk. It came with the territory and the occupation. They are the ones making the real changes in the world, and yet their names will never be entered into the pantheon of the greats. 

They are destined to remain in the shadows and only be seen by the select few that were granted the right and clearance to even know who they were. Out of the entire military, they are the small crew that felt like a real family. They ate out together, lived together, laughed together, cried together, and so many other things. They have his back and he will make sure they are safe in return while offering them the best leadership he can impose.

He can’t deny that Miranda is good at her job, but his worry keeps rising until she laughs, “Damn, the bastard almost had me. Kieran, what’s the sitrep (situation report)?”  

Bruno sighs to himself, his helmet digging into the bricks of the building he is using as cover. He takes a chance to peek around the corner, but the whizzing of bullets launched his way forces him to take cover once again, the next volley of them chipping away at the corner of the building. “Fuck! Okay… just breathe. You have been in these predicaments before. Come on Kieran…” He doesn’t bother saying anything into the comms, waiting for his sniper expert to handle the mess.  

“Sitrep isn’t too great, guys. They are holed up real good at their vantage point. I know where they are at, but I can’t take the shot without giving away my position. I can move and get a better angle at them. Guidance, Bruno?”

Shit. That’s not the answer Bruno needed, but it is what it is. He clears his mind of all the noise around him, trying to get to the part of his head where he can think out of a problem. He’s a sitting duck where he is at, but maybe he can get lucky. “From where you saw them firing, do you think I could mask my location with smoke?”

“What the hell are you thinking of, Bruno?”

He can’t help but smirk in response, a small weight off his chest when he laughs, “You heard me, Kieran. Can I use smoke or do you think a flash bang can do the trick? I am trying to get to the next few buildings but I need your help.” While he is waiting, he takes his canteen of water, taking a swig to then spit out the dirt and dust coating his mouth before finally drinking a few gulps. He needs to be hydrated if he’s going to really be doing something half crazy.

“Bruno,” Miranda calls out from the comms, “I really hope you aren’t about to pull your usual stunt of risking your life. Maybe just sit tight and call Lukas in for an airstrike, yeah?”

“That’s a lot of gall coming from the girl that plays with explosives and death on a daily basis. Also, I am not wasting a good airstrike on just me. Kieran, you better give me an answer or I am going to get fucked real good by the tangos,” Bruno huffs back, reaching into his pouch to grab a smoke grenade just in case. 

“Alright. I got it. Bruno, I need you to throw the smoke as close to them as you can. Then use the thermal scope and pick out a few. I can handle some of them too to take the heat off. Other than that, I don’t see another way out. What’s the verdict, Sir?” Kieran sounds like he played out a few scenarios and picked the one with the best outcome. That’s what he needed from the man.

Bruno flips the switch on his assault rifle’s scope, seeing the blue haze on it to show it’s on. “Perfect. On my mark, Kieran.” He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and getting his body ready to react fast. He takes off the pin from the ‘nade, counting off, “One. Two. Mark.” He rolls around the corner, throwing the smoke grenade as it sends out a smoke screen to obscure everyone’s vision. There’s a gunfight going crazy now, Bruno on the ground firing away at all the blips coming into view on thermal, the blasting sounds from the mountain near them giving away Kieran’s position, whether he liked it or not. 

He can hear shuffling over the comms, Kieran’s voice quick and short. “Position compromised. Running two klicks eastbound. Approximate time to wait ten mikes. Copy?”

Valdemar grunts back, “Copy, Kieran. I’ll be the closest to you once you’re there. We have a few more people here than we thought. Possible intel miscount, Bruno. What now?”

He just finally got to cover, the barrel of his rifle turning to a reddish hue from the heat building up. Bruno barely has a chance to breathe when the news comes in and his eyebrows furrow. “Wait… The count shouldn’t be off. This was validated plenty of times via the NSA, STRATCOM, and the folks over in DC. Oscar, what the fuck is going on?” He busts his way into the building, aiming around and clearing the vicinity prior to making his run up the steps in the stairwell, getting to the fifth floor and getting into a rundown office. He better make his nest now, flipping a desk on its back to press up against a window, using it as both cover and a thing to lean back on, his eyes on the door to the stairwell in case anyone followed him. “Oscar, I need something, now.”

There is frantic typing he can hear, and that is never a good sign. He sets up his gear where he needs to, taking the chance to wipe the sweat and dirt off his face, his eyes on the tablet he has set out. There’s a grid map showing his position in relation to the others and where the main target, who is the main reason why they are there, is. He keeps his composure though, waiting for Oscar to explain himself and the faulty data compiled from multiple three letter agencies. 

“Sir… something isn't right. There's more movement from the enemy. ISR (intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance) operations are alluding to a possible betrayal," Oscar breathes out, the clicking and typing starting up again. It's so quiet now, almost as though a pin could drop.

The waves are crashing in Bruno's head now, the man needing to come up with a solution. His options are either to continue pursuing the main target or fall back and go back to the drawing board. He stares up at the ceiling, his eyes tracing the fallen wires while he attempts to strategize. With that, he glances back down at the tablet and with a gruff mutter, he announces, "We aren't letting these people get away with what they've done. They've killed too many innocent people. If I let them slip through my fingers again, I'm going to lose my shit."

"Alright, Captain America, so what's your plan?" Miranda shoots at him, and he can feel as though she's staring right at him, even if she's so far away.

Bruno snaps his fingers and goes to type in the tablet, each tap another step closer to the end goal. "The plan is to aim a barrage right down the middle of their forces. Force them to split up and we rip through them like nothing. Lukas, can you handle helping us out from up there?"

The voice of the young and cookies pilot Bruno's ever heard of comes through the earpiece, "Oh I can handle just about anything, Bru Bru. General Kane got me a nice Reaper MQ-9 drone for Christmas. Have you seen what that baby can do? I'm talking about Hellfire missiles and whatever other toys I requested. What are the coordinates?"

Bruno manages a small grin and laugh, the corner of his lip rising. He remembers what it was like to be a real fighter pilot, and he knows how long Lukas has been working towards becoming a drone pilot as well. "Good. I'm sending them over now. Fire when ready. Those in quadrants three and four need to take cover."

He puts the tablet away the second he's done sending the location, taking a few more to drink away some of his water and prepare for the long haul as they won't be making it back for dinner. Things seem to be going his way and then his earpiece screeches in his ear. He jumps in surprise and rips it out, grumbling about stupid technology before placing it in his pocket, replacing it with the backup headset. It takes about another minute or so, but yet he hasn't heard the sound of explosions or missiles. "Did I miss anything?"

What Oscar comes through with doesn't sit well with him: "Sir? Nothing happened, but Lukas is having some trouble from his end getting the coordinates, but he just got them. Thank you for revising them for him."

There are alarm bells ringing, and his heart starts to pound to the drums of War. He scrambles to his feet and starts running towards the stairwell, his voice rushed and full of worry. "I didn't revise a damn thing. I sent him the right thing already. Oscar? Lukas? What the fuck is goi-" 

The blast cuts him off as he holds onto the railing, barely keeping himself from tumbling down them. His eyes widen when looking back at the office, now engulfed in flames. That missile was aimed right on him, and he can hear the whirring of the drone closing in again and he returns to his attempt to make it out of the building, concrete pieces and debris falling on him. "Stop the airstrike!" He roars in retaliation, reaching the ground floor of the building.

The door is blocked from the other side and he's attempting to bash through it, but it refuses to budge no matter how hard he tries. No one is on the comms anymore, and he feels as though everything is falling apart around him. His eyes are now darting around the building, seeing the stress of the bombardments cracking the walls, the lines zigzagging to the ceiling.

"Of fuck," he huffs, realizing that if he doesn’t get out soon enough, the building is going to collapse right on top of him. To hell with the mission and to hell with the comms being down; this is survival. He turns away from the door and runs down the hall, coming to a halt when he sees a window inside a room flooded with fire. “You gotta be kidding me.” The building shakes again from the next blast, and it forces Bruno to grit his teeth, his own fire burning inside of him. He’s not ready to die yet; not to a building. It’s not a fitting end for a man like him. “Here goes nothing.” He locks the rifle to the chest plate’s hooks, ripping his pistol from the side holster. He aims it straight and true and pulls the trigger, launching the bullet right through the window, shattering it upon impact.

He jumps over the flaming debris of the desks and fallen file cabinets, thankful that he has enough gear on to keep him from getting too burned, the sweat now freely flowing down his face. Still rushing to the window, the final blast hits the floor above him, parts of the ceiling crumbling down just as he vaults through the broken mirror, not bothered by the glass cutting away at his uniform and face. The stinging from the sweat, fire, and glass just pushes him over the edge, and he catches himself on the dirt floor, coughing. Just in time to see the drone pass by him one more time, but nothing comes from it thank the heavens. 

He stands up and moves away from the building, his heart still pounding away in his chest. Hiding away in one of the alleys, he groans and wipes away at the slick red coming from his face. “Someone. Better. Have. An. Explanation.”

His comms are only returning static until finally there is a voice beside his own: “Sir, I think there's enemy interference. Someone is trying to get in and find our locations. I am trying to scramble the signal, but they got a hold of you. I don’t know about the others.”

Bruno tenses up at that and it hits him that someone ratted on them. No one should have known they were there. No one should have prepared reinforcements so quickly. No one should have tried to murder him with his own drone. It was a trap, and he had to get everyone out before things could get any worse. “Everyone, head to the second emergency rendezvous point. We have been compromised. If there are signs of adversaries there, make it to the third point. Move it!” He reholsters his pistol and rearms himself with his trusted rifle, treading along.

When he makes it to a major street, something doesn’t feel right to Bruno. It’s this weird feeling someone gets when they are in a room, but they can sense another person in there. It only gets worse the closer he is to the edge of the alley. He has to sprint across as fast as he can, and so that’s what he does. He dashes as fast as his legs can carry him and the extra hundred or so pounds of gear… and that’s the second an immense searing pain hits him right in the calf, making the man fall to the ground. Only then does he hear the crack and boom from the sniper rifle. He just got hit, and he’s still in the open. He forces his body to act fast, pushing himself to get to cover, his back leaning against the wall. They know where he is. It’s only a matter of time. He rips off his helmet and looks down to see the damage. His right leg is the one that feels as though there’s a small fire inside of the gunshot wound, blood already seeping through his fatigues. 

“Hit. I’ve been hit,” he groans, but there’s nothing on his comms again. He reaches into his shoulder pocket, pulling out a small pouch. Using his teeth, he tears open the sterile tourniquet, reminding himself of the steps Khrystyna taught him. He gets the belt strapped and then using the stick on the tourniquet, he begins to twist it, cutting off his blood flow. The pain is getting worse, the man clenching his jaw so hard when he cuts away at his pants to find the wound. 

To his dismay, he sees both an open and exit wound, and he takes a deep breath. “Okay… there’s a big ass hole in your leg. Time to pack it. Dammit, why me? Move faster…” He rolls up the cut fabric, rolling it up and proceeding to bite down on it before he takes the gauze from the first aid kit he had, shoving it into his wound without waiting. He screams into the fabric, the back of his head digging into the wall to distract himself. He wants to cry, but he instead just pounds at the ground with his free hand. Just as he’s done, he can hear the sound of someone rustling near him. He takes his pistol with one hand, his body trembling from the shock and anger ripping through him. Waiting for the person to come around the corner from his left, he doesn’t catch the person to his right rounding the corner and firing into his side. Bruno gasps and turns quick enough to fire a few rounds into that soldier, returning his attention to the one he had initially heard, taking them down as well when the opening presents itself. 

His breathing is ragged, his hand reaching to where he felt the slap of a bullet. Wincing, he pulls his hand back to see that there’s now a bullet lodged in him, finding the one part of his torso that wasn’t shielded by the vest, plates, and gear. It’s getting hard to breathe, and he stares up at the sky in search of an answer to his problem. It takes him a few minutes to patch up, getting up while using the wall to lean against, limping his way towards his team. The corners of his view are blurring and turning to black, almost like the beginning of tunnel vision. He trips over some broken stone and slabs of brick, screaming silently when one of the pieces digs right into his side. Struggling to his hands and knees, his head snaps up when the one person he couldn’t have near him speaks. 

“Bruno?!” 

Khrystyna runs up to him and helps him sit against the wall, her eyes so calm and yet her voice is full of worry. “Hey, you are going to be okay. We are really close to where we need to be. I need you to tell me what’s wrong and what you need me to do, Sir?”

Bruno isn’t fully there. His mind is on the fact that this entire time, he was leaving specks of blood and a trail for his enemies to follow. If he dies, and they find him, they are going to take Khrystyna and do the most awful things to her. If he doesn’t die and they both get caught, they will use her against him, and he would be responsible for her dying due to his loyalty to secrecy.  Even though she is one of the strongest women he knows, she won’t be able to carry him the entire way, and he’s only getting weaker by the minute. The answer was there the whole time.

He knows what he has to do, and so when he coughs up a bit of blood, he reaches over to take Khrystyna’s pistol, aiming it at her with tears in his eyes. “You need to get away from me right now if you know what’s good for you.”

[socialfilter]

Red Dead Redemption 2 Characters as ABBA songs

- a 7am thought come to fruition by me, a deluded little guy

Arthur Morgan - The Winner Takes It All

The gods may throw the dice, their minds as cold ice, and someone way down here, loses someone dear.

John Marston - Name of the Game

If I trust in you, would you let me down? Would you laugh at me, if I said I care for you? Could you feel the same way too?

Lenny Summers - Take A Chance on Me

Gonna do my very best and it ain’t no lie. If you put me to the test, if you let me try.

Susan Grimshaw - Fernando

If I had to do the same again, I would, my friend, Fernando.

Tilly Jackson - So Long

Tracy, Daisy, they might be crazy but I’ll never be your girl.

Mary-Beth Gaskill - Honey Honey

the way that you kiss goodnight, the way that you hold me tight.

Karen Jones - Chiquitita

you’ll be dancing once again, and the pain will end

Sean Maguire - Does Your Mother Know

Now you’re so cute, I like your style, and I know what you mean when you give me a flash of that smile.

Molly O’Shea - SOS

so when you’re near me darling, can’t you hear me? SOS

Dutch Van Der Linde - Angeleyes

and one day you’ll find he wears a disguise. don’t look too deep into those angel eyes.

Hosea Matthews - I Still Have Faith In You

do I have it in me? I believe it is in there.

Marion ‘Bill’ Williamson - Me and I

yes, I am to myself what jekyll must be to hyde

Micah Bell - On and On and On

keep on rockin’ baby till the night is gone

Javier Escuella - The Visitors

Voices growing louder, irritation building, and I’m close to faintin’- crackin’ up!

Charles Smith - When All Is Said And Done

It’s so strange, when you’re down and lying and on the floor. How you rise, shake your head, get up and ask for more.

Mary Linton - Knowing Me Knowing You

here is where the story ends, this is goodbye

Charlotte Balfour - Andante Andante

play me time and time again, make me strong

Jack Marston - I’ve Been Waiting For You

I love you, I adore you, I lay my life before you.

Abigail Roberts - Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!

Won’t somebody help me chase the shadows away?

Sadie Adler - Voulez-Vous

masters of the scene, we’ve done it all before and now we’re back to get some more

Josiah Trelawny - Eagle

And I dream I’m an eagle, I dream I can spread my wings and fly

Kieran Duffy - Suzy Hang-Around

Nobody wants you around here and that’s for sure. So get off our playground and stay away.

Rains Fall - Slipping Through My Fingers

Then when she’s gone, there’s that odd melancholy feeling and a sense of guilt I can’t deny.

Eagle Flies - Lay All Your Love On Me

Now everything is new, and all I’ve learned has overturned, I beg of you.

Reverend Swanson - I Have A Dream

I believe in angels, something good in everything I see

Bonus:

Arthur/Mary - My Love, My Life

you are still my love and my life, still my one and and only

Sadie/Abigail - One of Us

one of us is crying, one of us is lying in her lonely bed.

Arthur/Charles - Our Last Summer

living for the day, worries far away.

John/Abigail - Super Trouper

The sight of you will prove to me I’m still alive.

[ghostatrandom]

THE REDESIGN SAGA CONTINUES

This is a funny one, cause it has problematics faves and one that I truly hate, let's discover which one together!

Cleo Denile: based more on what I found was the royal egyptian attire at the time, but in the form of a full body with pants, making the yellowish tones as the main theme instead of the blues. If I have done a goof with this one I would apreciate the feedback cause I'm not egyptian, and idk much about the culture-.

"I am worthy of a kingdom father, and I would rip my heart to prove it"

Kieran Valentine: just a few chances to simplify his attire, and also gave him the monster characteristics I love so much. Emotional vampires have little hairs on their ears, as well as a more "puppy bat" nose.

"I never loved draculaura! I have never loved any ghoul!"

Spelldon Cauldronello: okay this one was interesting, cause I just had a strong will and Casta Fierce for a reference for this faceless man. Obviously very punk, and very halloween!. He is a creation of Circe (I like the idea that he was created from soil and like, magic stuff). While Casta inherited the wand and the transformation magic. He inherited the innate talents of herbology and potion making.

"A moly tea a day keeps the enchantments away!"

Gillington "Gil" Webber: Oh boy here we are. From all monster high g1 it's safe to say I really really hate Gil's design, like ever since I was little I have hated that man for his design alone.

The only thing I saved from him was the water breathing thing and his ""hair"". But I have him a more indigo blue color palette to make it different from Lagoona. And while I don't support this ship, I also get where both of them are coming from (also if I ever make mini comics this is a juicy story I would love to write)

"Why "us" needs to be so complicated? Why can't I do something right?"

.

.

Now that I have most of the main cast of characters on character sheets I can finally start a process of "writting an actual mini comic and not procastinating"

Will see how that one goes but hey let's have some hope-

You can support me on my KO FI

•○•°●°•○•°●°•○•°●°•○•°●°•○•°●°•○•

•○•°●°•○•°●°•○•°●°•○•°●°•○•°●°•○•

[miyuthejellycat]

I’m very late to the party, but over the course of this month I’ve been playing the Pokémon SV DLC

And while I KNOW Pokémon trainer rivals are some of the most misunderstood characters in the series of games (cough cough Calem does have a personality cough cough)

It’s kinda sweet that Arven and the others ARE so loved. I remember hearing a lot of my friends say that they weren’t a fan of the SV rival’s character designs, but becoming very invested in them throughout the story.

Pokémon stories are notorious for being bad (something I don’t completely agree with, but that is a rant for a later date), but even then, the arcs these characters pulled us through in the story really were well done in my opinion.

The best part is that everyone in that friend group is so very much Neurodivergent coded and it is so nice.

Nemona in particular might be one of my favorite portrayals of Autisim in media ever. I’ve definitely gotten so excited over a special interest that my brain physically stopped me from being normal about it. The amount of times that I have taken one of my partners and played Pokémon for them for hours only for them have to stop me because it’s 5 am and they have work/school the next day is especially real.

Nemona being ready to jump back into a battle immediately, her not just going unga bunga and instead being noted as someone who ACTIVELY STUDIES STRATEGIES AND DIFFERENT POKÉMON TYPES, and her getting excited at the prospect that someone else could be at her level.

It’s important to note that Pokémon Rivals being sad because you are a prodigy they can never catch up to us a VERY COMMON TRAIT and Nemona is a complete subversion of that!

She finds someone who can finally beat her, who she can go all out against, and she is ECSTATIC. It doesn’t matter to her that she lost, in fact, because she wins so often, it seems almost euphoric to her.

Within my playthrough of the DLC, I always refer to her as my rival, cause I imagine that the battles between the MC and Nemona are secretly way closer in canon. Just a whole anime style battle where their backs are against the walls.

Kieran is also a good subversion of the “how dare this naturally gifted battler be better than me??” Rival trope!

But that too should be a different rant

[fluffomatic]

Whoops! This has been sitting in my drafts for a few days. Should probably post it now that Creepy did a Kieran piece for me 😝

I don't tend to post a lot about my love for Pokemon here, but today is an exception~

SPOILERS FOR THE TEAL MASK AND INDIGO DISK + EPILOUGE UNDER THE CUT

Listen! When I tell you this mans is and will always be the best part of the DLC I am not joking! He holds my heart and I adore him more then life! His story on its own is one of the best Pokemon has done in a long time.

Like, this anxious little loner meets up with your protag, gets absolutely destroyed in a battle multiple times, loses his favorite Pokemon to you, and then goes crazy. After that he trains to be one of the harder npcs to come to Pokemon in a looong time, still loses and grows from it, chooses to help you, you become friends again and it's so cute! Then he gets to hang out with all your friends, and he finally gets a great support system ahhhhh!! Also, I just found out that statistically, Kieran is now the most powerful npc trainer in pokemon history, even beating out Cynthia! My little guy is so strong!!!

And now....LIKE HE'S SUPER TICKLISH RIGHT!?!? Would that even be up for debate?? Look at that little fella! He neeeeeeeeds tickles, please! Carmine 100% tickles him all the time. (Even tho I hate her lol) And the whole friend group definitely wrecks him, especially as a team! Poor kid needs it after everything he went through! Oh, and I can totally see Drayton tickling his as "punishment" for how he acted in the indigo disk dlc lol. I'm also cringe and ship my Trainer Deigo with him, so they obviously get into tickle fights all the time! I'll have to post Deigo on here so yall can see him >w< It's been a long time since Pokemon has made me like the character I'm playing!

Well, that's all the rambling I have for now. Depending on if I have it in me, I may post tickle headcanons for Kieran! It really depends if I feel like typing em out, lol. Feel free to send me asks for Pokemon, by the way! Again, I like, never talk about my love for it here for some reason, but I do adore the games! I'm not really into the anime, so sorry bout that

[milliemuus]

Possible future stuff (just a snippet ;) ):

Dokutaro: ‘No…no! Impossible! How is my power core destroyed?!’

Kieran: Wait, his colour’s weird, this means, maybe we have a chance now? If so, then…

Ogerpon: *angrily growls while bringing out her cudgel*

Kieran: *puts his hand, blocking Ogerpon* *with rage* No,I’ll take care of this.

*Grabs Dokutaro’s neck while the True Finale starts*

Kieran:

Who are you… To think that could prevail? For all the sins you’ve done, You'll fall on your face and FAIL!!!! Now then! And In The Final hour our HOPE STILL SHINES!! BLINDING THE DARKEST OF NIGHTS… IN THE FINAL… FIGHT!!

AND THERE’S NO WAY THAT YOU’LL EVER BEAT US!!! YES, WE’RE STILL IN OUR PRIME! YOUR OWN END IS NIGH, IT’S TIME WE FLY HIGH!!

You’ll never harm anyone again Like the runt you were, You may have possessed me and and made me harm my family! But when YOU harm my friends?! You're asking for a Kieran smacking! One single KO punch, Will send you sorry runt a-packing!

*Finally, in a fit of rage, Kieran mustered up all his strength, and punched Dokutaro, sending him flying in the air. Finally the second attack is over, but it truly was a Grand Finale*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(v) PV! Pecharunt: And that’s how I got my ass handed by my Kieran.

@tealmaskmybeloved Pecharunt: *grimaced* sheesh, I hope you’re alright.

S&S Dipplins Pecharunt: Now you’re making me feel that I got off easy…

Azure Dive Pecharunt: *curious* Really? What happened?

S&S Dipplins Pecharunt: Well, let’s just say my Kieran was AN ABSOLUTE SIMP, somehow, his simping was able to shrug off my possession for a short while, but it’s really tiring, ugh, I’m SO TIRED…*internally screaming*

Azure Dive Pecharunt: ohhhh, that sounds really annoying to deal with.

(so, ANOTHER IDEA, AND A SNIPPET OF THE PECHAS. So, you said most of your stuff is inspired by BIS, so another lyrical stuff by Juno Songs (credits to him) for Kieran in the Key Change segment. Also, I changed a few things to fit the context)

(and this could be a sequel’s ending since, the final battle is sort of discussed already)

(so maybe?)

(Also, opportunity for the Pechas to interact :), also if S&S Dipplins Pecharunt confusing you, you can go to @dipplinduo and see the asks, he’s the author of the fanfic)

I LOVE THIS IDEA! I'M FINALLY GETTING TO ANSWER BUT I RLLY NEED TO LISTEN TO THIS SONG! I'VE BEEN Listening to the actual BIS soundtrack, and smth funny I've been thinkin abt is a mario-rpg style thing of Project Venus.

So, you know how in BIS the music changes depending on whether you are bowser or the brothers? Esp inside bowser? I wanna make themes based off the inside bowser themes for Kitakami, BB Academy, Area Zero, etc for PV!Kieran, since his POV is technically warped. Like when we first meet him, it's obvs gonna be normal, but it slowly but surely settles in as time goes on because I wanna say there's a side episode of him training (Like Bowser Jrs Journey was a side episode)

I'd love for everyone's Pechas to interact! I'm a bit intimidated even tho I'm mutuals with both dipplinduo (I believe) and I am definitely mutuals with tealmaskmybeloved!

However, I don't think I've heard much abt Azure Dive, but I hella love the name 👀

I wanna find out more abt them, though! I don't see them on my tl much and I get busy, but I'd love if you told me a buncha stuff, if you'd like to! You're definitely not obligated to, by any means!

Also, I'm very sure that PV!Pecha wpuld get the walloping if a lifetime for sure! Maybe not just by Kieran himself, but by Kieran's ancestor, too 😭

In fact, I think that's what I want PVs Mochi Mayhem to be about! Uncovering Pecharunt and Kieran and Carmine's ancestry with Eustace (The Mask Maker) and the sealed curse that Pecharunt has him under! Ooooghh, givin me so many ideas...

[pikatrainer99]

So...I figured I should probably elaborate on Kieran after my last reblog so you all get where I'm coming from with my stance on him...

(Basically the TLDR of this post is this: I like Kieran much better when he's like this, look how happy he is, it's adorable 🥺)

(He legit terrifies me when he's like this though...😖)

My thoughts on him changed drastically throughout my playthrough of the DLC multiple times...and I'm gonna explain why.

First, when I first met him in the Teal Mask, I thought he was an adorkable socially awkward shy bean and I loved him because I'm very much the same way. Being (what seemed to me like) his first friend reminded me of how much of my childhood I spent friendless and the joy I felt at finally having one friend back in my last year of elementary school. As the Teal Mask story went on though, Kieran started to change...and I didn't know how to feel about the direction his character was headed...because it triggered traumatic memories in me...memories of that friend I had finally made...well...one day suddenly revealing that the friendship was never genuine and that they hated me the whole time, and they betrayed me...in a HARD-HITTING WAY...completely out of the blue, too...I had no idea what was happening with them or what I had done to deserve that awful treatment, but it didn't matter because I still got that treatment. I'm not going to go into the details because it's still terrifying to think about...but it was BAD...bad enough that I have severe PTSD because of this person. So, as you might expect from what I just told you, the way Kieran just suddenly turned on me in the Teal Mask story really made me have to make sure to use my coping skills and calming strategies in order to not have a PANIC ATTACK over a VIDEO GAME. And the ending of the Teal Mask where Kieran seemed to HATE me made me feel really scared for the Indigo Disk story and I tried my best to not think about it too much until it came out because I always felt nauseous if I thought about it. And even when it came out it took me a long time to be able to bring myself to finally play it... Kieran's new look reminded me even more of my real life friend turned bully I mentioned above, who also changed their look and even dyed their hair to a similar purple-ish color after the whole incident (yes I know Kieran didn't dye his hair, it's naturally purple-ish underneath, but my point still stands, it was similar enough to trigger me further), and I had a panic attack over it when I saw it in the trailer before the Indigo Disk came out. My thoughts were basically 'This is middle school all over again...' and I was not looking forward to facing the memories again, it was making me feel more and more anxious and sick as each day passed and it got closer to the release of the Indigo Disk. I also had more and more nightmares about that real life person which made me more and more tired and irritable, so that was not fun either. But...I knew I had to play it eventually, so to prepare myself for my own playthrough, I decided to prepare myself both physically and mentally by watching other people's playthroughs of the story first...multiple times. You have no idea how relieved I was when I found out that the story had a happy ending and Kieran was able to snap out of it, feel serious remorse, and resolve to change his ways and make everything right again. As you can probably guess from how visceral my reactions to this entire thing were, that did NOT happen with my real life friend turned bully...I'm pretty sure that individual still hates my guts to this day and I still to this day have absolutely NO CLUE what I did to make them turn on me so viciously like that. Anyway, I watched probably ten or twelve playthroughs on YouTube before I finally worked up the courage to play it myself. I finally finished it yesterday and I am glad that everything ended all well and good. I am so relieved and I am back to being a Kieran fan again now that he is back to his normal adorkable self. Now I only have the epilogue left to do in Violet and then I have to go through the entire DLC again in Scarlet...but I think I'll be fine for the DLC playthrough in Scarlet now that I've experienced everything in Violet.

So yeah, lots of complicated emotions and visceral reactions and stuff with my view of this fictional video game character...but I couldn't help it since he was a legit PTSD trigger for me during the last bit of the Teal Mask and the majority of the Indigo Disk...at least he's back to normal now though.

Anyway, what are you guys' thoughts on Kieran? How did you react throughout his arc? Which look do you like better on him, hair up or down? Feel free to let me know your thoughts on Kieran in the comments below!

[dipplinduo]

So, I'm really looking to write a Dipplinshipping series myself and I really love the depth that you go into for S&D Dipplins (and its related spinoffs, I am very up to date).

Do you have any tips for keeping up with/writing longer works? I think my idea may take at least 10 chapters, but I've never been able to finish anything but oneshots before... I admire your consistency with the quality of your work (there has not been a single miss, not a one) and I hope to be able write like you one day.

No pressure to come up with anything if you don't know what to say. Regardless of anything, I hope this message reaches you well and that you have a fantastic day!

Omg I love writing talk asks and I'm so touched that you thought to ask me this question!

I'm gonna share stuff I found helpful to keep in mind:

- Take your time with storytelling. The advantage of having more chapters is that you can reallllyyyy enjoy your pacing. One way I do this is through gradual hints and breadcrumbs that build to the major plot points. It's a fun way to develop your story over time while keeping readers interested and theorizing. And when you're not focusing on the main plot, you can focus on other aspects of the story.

- Outlines and general note pages for your fic as a whole are your best friends. They will do the work of keeping track of different story elements for you.

- Listen to your readers. Their feedback is invaluable. If you get a lot of comments about something people seem to be enjoying, this may suggest that it's part of the voice of your fic. It can help you figure out what you'd want to emphasize more down the line - whether it be through side stories or through the main plot.

- Switch up some dynamics overtime. If you find yourself feeling stuck because you feel like you're trying to write similar kinds of moments, thoughts, or dialogues, this is a sign that it's time for you to move on and shake things up. I've done this with Kieran & Juliana in S&S D after I felt I have described Kieran seeing Juliana as a witch (who he has a hard time resisting lmao) so many times.

- Flush out the roles of supporting characters. They don't need their own character arcs, and they don't need to be focal points of the story. But they can influence some events, and it can help with the movement of your fic. (E.g. I often use Drayton to instigate moments one way or another, and this suits his character given that hes relatively chaotic neutral).

- Focus on the quality of telling your story first and foremost; you do not need the permission of certain chapter "markers" to progress. You don't need to wait for Chapter 10 or 15 or whatever to have a big moment happen. If everything is set up and ready to go, just do it. This is why a big moment of S&S D happens in Chapter 9 rather than Chapter 10; there was enough in place and I felt dragging it out would've diminished the moment. No one's really gonna care that much about how things line up to a chapter number. They're gonna be happy they got a big moment, and if anything, your ability to break this norm can keep readers on their toes.

- On the opposing ends of things, know when you have enough in a chapter to stop even if you know where you're going next. If you flushed out descriptions of someone's feelings or some scenery or whatever, and you feel you have enough? It's okay to stop writing and publish. Giving yourself more time to soak on ideas can improve the way you're going to pick up where you left off. I personally don't have a hard rule around this, but I tend to cut things off at the 15-20 page mark for a chapter of S&S D.

- If you feel like you're writing a filler chapter, think of ways it can build to your overarching story. You really don't need filler chapters if you think about it - even if you want to delay going somewhere specific. So if your work could be summed up when completed, what would you want someone to say? Think of ways you can slip in gradual storytelling from multiple angles - whether it be through plot or through some of the lighter moments (that may build to the heart of the fic like found family or dorm life or whatever). This can help breathe life into any chapter update.

- Remember that by taking your time, you're actually developing the voice of your writing and of the story. My original conception of S&S D and where it's at now are wildly different, and that's because there's no rushed time table. That goes for the storyline, the characters, the plot points - everything. LMAOOO, even the beach episode content is going to be very different because I gave myself permission to delay it until I figured out the exact roles I want Paldean Squad to play! It was a better decision that will lead to better characterization (even though I'm nonetheless very grateful for people's patience).

- Write on your timetable, not anyone else's. I occasionally put due dates on myself to get me going (e.g. by teasing a chapter update), but I never promise that I'll have chapters out on a weekly basis or whatnot for anything I write - S&S D related or not. This is deliberate. Life happens and the last thing you need is to write for the sake of writing and nothing else. I feel it's the easiest way to kill your passion if it becomes stressful for you.

- Lean into what inspires you. I find a LOT of motivation through comments, reactions, asks, fanart, etc., so I make it a point to respond to every comment on AO3 and engage continuously with the community on here and whatnot. I've also been loosely inspired by art pieces that have nothing to do with my work. This is just what works for me, though. Sometimes you might be inspired by other media, or maybe by things that you've seen or experienced in your own life. Whatever it is, draw from it.

Hmmm that's what comes to mind for now. Happy to give more later if they come up, & hope this helps! Best of luck with writing YOU GOT THISSSSS 🤗💛