#like you should be proud even for the smallest of accomplishments and even just for surviving this far <333 proud of you all

[brittlecakes92]

I know you want more asks, so I’m gonna flood your inbox with ideas if with you’re cool with that. 😉

Papa Reiko headcanons!

We all know those kids would be well behaved. He expects nothing less. But how is he as a daddy? 🤗

Ohhhhh, I love this. The amount of babies I would give this man... anyways, here we go! - Reiko trains his children young. They will know how to defend themselves. Reiko has enemies, and he will fight tooth and fucking nails to protect his, but he will make sure they can protect themselves too. - Reiko's biggest anxiety or fear is leaving his child(ren) in the manner his parents left him. The thought alone makes him more vicious. - They never set a foot out of line. - He loves watching his daughter take down his soldiers. He trained his baby girl well. - When you can't find your husband or new born baby you worry a little until you hear a noise that was all to familiar for you. Stepping to the doors that lead to the balcony outside, you would see a sight that would warm your heart forever. Reiko is laid against the railing of the smooth stone wall. Your child tucked under his chin, their body scrunched up on his chest. His arms protectively draped over them as he sharpens his blade against the whey stone. - Reiko takes your child everywhere, You have to remind him they can't go everywhere with them, and he gives you a challenging look as if to say; "Watch me." - Reiko is also the type that as soon as his child does the smallest thing he is bragging to his soldiers about it. They actually really like it, because it shows that he knows more emotions then just anger. - When you have to wake up in the middle of the night to take care of the baby, Reiko is up, doesn't matter. He is holding your child while they feed from you, while tilting your cup for you to get a drink from. - When it comes time for you to give birth he is there, encouraging you, he's very attentive. And as soon as he hears the first cries of your child, he's frozen. He's never seen anything so tiny, so delicate. He questions if he should even hold them. He's quiet. He is trying to process so many emotions. You watch him as silent tears roll down his face. He takes your hand, placing a kiss on your knuckles before thanking you. You don't hear it much from him, so when Reiko tells you thank you, he genuinely means it. - He let's his kids do his war paint and wears it with pride. -They want to fix his hair? No problem, what is someone going to say. -You have to remind him that knives aren't for a baby, and he tells you his child can play with whatever they want. -The first time his child cries from getting hurt, he feels a sense of anger he has never felt before. And he hurts for his child. - He is very comforting, and affectionate towards his children. - If they are sick, he's telling you to sleep he will stay up with them.

-Bad dream? Not in Daddy's protective arms. You have a new bed mate. (: -He loves to take his kids on camping trips, telling them stories of his victories, or stories of the stars and how they came to be named.

-Reiko wants a huge family. So you better love being pregnant.

-He is proud of all of their accomplishments. No matter how small, or big. - He is a pushover for his kids. Yes he is stern, but they have him wrapped around his finger. - They are taught to be very respectful of you too.

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

These are all that could come to mind, I hope you love them! I loved writing them! (:

[pos-syscourse]

It can be so vital sometimes to turn the negative into positives, however much you can.

Today, my partner raised their voice. It was understandable! Someone nearly rear-ended us because they weren't paying attention, and my partner was stressed as it was. They raised their voice slightly in response to me, not because they were yelling at me, but because the situation was heightened, and so were they.

Regardless, my brain began to spiral. Are they yelling at me? Did I do something wrong? How dare they yell at me when all I did was let them know vital information. I started to sink deep into those negative thoughts.

BONK THOSE THOUGHTS!

I sat for a second, breathed, and rationalized that they weren't upset at me. I really really worked hard to not meltdown about it.

And I didn't.

Isn't that incredible?! Isn't that wonderful, how much progress I've made? And thinking like that, I've turned those negative thoughts (They are mad at me) into something positive (I'm proud of how I handled that).

We need to do this with everything, bit by bit, and then, at some point, they become second nature. I look in the mirror and say, Hey, I look nice. Nothing hanging on! I'm just... looking nice!

How can you turn things into positives? Here's some tips from Pos!

Thank You is better than I'm Sorry. If you want to apologize for something, turn it into a thank you. Sorry I'm rambling becomes Thank you for listening. Sorry I'm so pathetic becomes Thank you for helping, I really appreciate it. You've now turned a negative apology into positive gratitude!

Start With Neutrals. It's very hard to look in the mirror when you dislike what you see, and try to lie to yourself and say, "Wow, I look incredible!!" So, start with neutral things. A half-forced I guess I look nice becomes Wow, I guess that is my body, huh? Because both of those are better than Ew, gross.

Inflate That Ego! Instead of saying negative things about yourself when you mess something up, make a funny joke about JUST how incredible you are. Inflate your ego, even as a joke. Tripped over something? I should be the next Olympic Gold Medalist for Not Falling On My Ass. Burnt the food? Gordan Ramsey quivers in awe at my abilities. Spilled your drink? Jackson Pollock, eat your heart out. Have fun with it and get creative!

And above all else... Remember to have pride in who you are and what you've accomplished! Focus on what you HAVE done, rather than what you haven't, and be proud of even the smallest seeming of steps. A step at all is better than none. :)

[onlinewealthcreater]

It is okay to take it one day at a time

Can you recall the sensation you experienced when you were young, standing on the edge of entering the vast world? If you were anything like me, you probably believed that the world held its breath, eagerly awaiting your arrival to make a grand entrance and conquer it with your exceptional talents and skills. With dreams shining in your eyes, you charged into the world, convinced that everyone would be in awe of your presence, as if they had been eagerly anticipating someone like you to grace their existence.

But then, life happened. With the prick of a needle, your bubble burst. Suddenly, your grand aspirations of changing the world shattered into countless pieces, and it felt as though your entire existence was crumbling before your eyes.

The experience of life's traumas and tragedies can be so overwhelming that some of us believe we will never be able to overcome them. At times, life strikes us so forcefully in the ribs that we convince ourselves we will never rise from the ashes again. We fall victim to the lie that it is all over, and we remain sprawled on the floor, drowning in our own self-pity.

However, it is crucial to remember that these setbacks do not define us. They are merely obstacles on our journey, tests of our resilience and determination. It is during these moments of despair that we must summon the strength within ourselves to rise above the ashes, to prove to ourselves and the world that we are capable of overcoming any adversity.

Most life gurus often advise that when life throws you a curveball, you should rise up and fight back with even more determination. However, the truth is that during such challenging times, you may find yourself lacking the energy to even get out of bed. In these moments, I want to offer you some encouragement by reminding you that you are not a superhero, and it is perfectly normal to feel overwhelmed.

Moreover, during these traumatic periods, it is perfectly acceptable to take things one day at a time. When you find yourself in the midst of one of life's coldest seasons, take a moment to be still and navigate through the uncertainty. Allow yourself the time to process feelings of grief, disappointment, and doubt. Use this reflection time to search for the lessons you have learned or the potential for growth hidden within the ashes of your experiences. Then, when you are ready, take small steps forward, focusing on what you are capable of accomplishing in the present moment, and be kind to yourself along the way.

Instead of dwelling on the past or worrying about the future, embrace the present and find joy in the small pleasures of life. Take each moment as it comes and concentrate on what you can change right now. Work with the resources you have at hand, building your life brick by brick.

Although you may feel like you have very little to work with during these challenging times, remember that even the smallest amount can be the catalyst for transforming your life. Just as Jesus used two fishes and five loaves to feed over five thousand people, the little you possess can be your saving grace.

In conclusion, keep moving forward, knowing that tough times are temporary and will eventually pass. Be proud of the progress you have made, no matter how small it may seem. And most importantly, be gentle with yourself and prioritize self-care, for you are a unique individual created with a purpose. Embrace that purpose and hold onto your faith.

[marron121]

Quick announcement thingie 8: Life be like that sometimes

>Quick announcement thingie 7

More than a year since the previous quick announcement! Let's shoot for 2+ years next time lads.

Anyhow, life is hectic. The tl;dr is...

I don't have a job anymore lmao.

@lauraqwerty and I released A story told by the stars, which is a very nice game that you can play for free! If you like visual novels, give it a try.

Alongside friends, we organized the second edition of the Aaron's Awesome (Games Festival)! You can watch it on Youtube (although it's in Spanish).

In there I also released T.E.L, a free FPS which is quite decent, but I'm not really proud of.

Anyhow, that's the short gist of it. For the long explanation, read below... if you dare...

Okay, so I guess I should start with the 1st one. For the past two and half years-ish, I was working on a company that I cannot name for NDA reasons, as the main UI programmer for the game they were developing, and now I do NOT work there. Let's just say events happened and, ngl, I could be in a way worse position. For now I'll be taking some rest and, if everything goes fine, I'll be with a new job soon.

In the quick announcement 7, I mentioned we were working on a game called TWOgether. We tried to make it we the smallest scope possible, but even so the game became a bit too big and we were in a very busy situation, so we cancelled it.

Instead, we decided to go even smaller, and I had the chance to direct our 1st official project. It was an honor and alongside the amazing help of Lau, my friend and second half of our "studio", we ended up releasing A Story Told By The Stars, an hour long visual novel about two pals. I'm very proud of what we accomplished, and if you think you would enjoy it please give it a try. You can even play it on browser!

PS: When you finish the game, consider reading the postmortem, where we talked about the development process and challenges, among other things. Around 1k people have read it so far, so I must assume they enjoyed it.

On July 2022 I made the A3 (or Aaron's Awesome Festival), a quite cheap-looking direct where I displayed games from mainly friends, like a Nintendo Direct. And this year, with the help of a bunch more of my friends, including Lau, we made the second edition, the A3²!

I can confidently say that the event was a success, and I'm very happy that my friends and I were able to create something so cool. Since he's also on here, @narvalian did all the backgrounds and its animations you can see on the video.

And in that same event, I revealed AND made available T.E.L, which you can see the trailer above (a good one, if I may add). It's an FPS where you play as a young programmer stuck inside is own computer, where things happen. And, well...

...I'm not really proud of the game.

I do think it's a decent game, and I'm very happy that I managed to make some of the things that happen ingame, but T.E.L was going to be a game based around a joke with my friends that I have, and basically because I was lazy I wasn't able to make that and instead ended up making this effective, yet basic, first person shooter.

I had a lot, and I mean A LOT of ideas working into this game that I wasn't able to accomplish going into it, and instead of just saying "hey, this isn't what I want to do, so let's just stop." I just kept pushing and pushing, and I think the game reflects that.

Actually working on something I ACTUALLY want to do is something I want to become better at. Let's hope next time I write one of these I've actually improved on that.

[pierrai]

Unfortunately for you... The thought of yandere Alastor has wormed its way into my head and it won't disappear no matter what I do. So! If it isn't any trouble, I'd love to request a yandere Alastor scenario where he becomes obsessed with someone who merely sees him as one of their occasional hook ups!! Thank you so much for your consideration!! 💕

Thank you for the request anon! Yandere Alastor progressed into quite a toxic person by the end of this, but I have a sneaking suspicion that will please you more than upset you, so I dearly hope you will enjoy this!

Character: Alastor Catesby Word Count: 2283 Scenario: Yandere Alastor with a FWB reader Warnings: Unhealthy dynamics, degrading language, hypothetical dubious scenarios, quite NSFW

Alastor

Alastor's first thoughts of you are those of egotism and self-assurance.

He heard of you before he met you, being as well-informed as he was, and so when your paths finally crossed and you were in the same tavern together, he believed it prudent to introduce himself.

You had quite the reputation for yourself, though he initially didn't think you amounted to much beyond a pretty face, certainly not better than his as well. You were a commoner, not a member of his gang, but you had worked with people he'd done dealings with before, and the general consensus from his informants was that you were both well-liked and well-acquainted. If anything, he thought you would perhaps be a decent connection to have.

The part of your reputation he was most intrigued by, however, was your supposed status as a heartbreaker. Alastor had a similar reputation himself, though this was mostly second-fiddle to his status as a gang-leader—something he was proud of. Though he would agree his appearance was more than noteworthy, his achievements should take precedence over that.

Al simply wanted to see what this 'heartbreaker' he'd heard so much about was like. He thought, in passing amusement, that he'd love to see you try break his heart too.

And you were, in fact, quite charming. You were more easy-going than Alastor was, flitting from one conversation partner to another before coming to rest at the bar. When Al approached and ordered two glasses of whiskey, you offered an appealing smile and happily drank with him.

The conversation between you flowed smoothly, which Alastor liked. He did also like when he was easily the dominant conversation partner, but from time to time, it was nice to have someone who could keep pace with him. Someone who could quip back to his remarks and laugh at the meaning beneath his words without getting so startled.

He introduced himself, but you'd already heard of him, and when you said you probably needn't introduce yourself either, he felt a smug smirk tugging at his lips. Of course, he already knew who you were as well.

You drank slowly throughout the evening, so Alastor reigned himself in as well, lingering on his second glass of whiskey as long you do for what feels like hours as you both chat. He's not nearly as tipsy as he'd like to be by the time the tavern is reaching its noisiest, but he can't blame you for being wary of him, and he can't exactly say he's not enjoying your company anyway.

The chemistry between the two of you is palpable, so the air around your conversation is, mildly put, flirtatious by the time Al brings up your reputation as a charmer. He's earned a similar reputation, you've heard, amongst other things. As much as Al wants you to sing his praises, tell him what other impressive feats he's accomplished, it's you he wants to know more about. Just how good can you really be? He really doesn't need to say much else for you to understand where he's heading with this conversation.

The night ends how a lot of his nights out at a tavern do: a one-night-stand.

You led him back to what he assumed was your home, but he only pays the smallest amount of attention to the finer details of your abode before it's directed elsewhere. The tension between the two of you pretty much snapped as soon as you'd closed the door behind him, and before he knows it, he's got you pinned down on your bed, covering your lips with his in a lustful kiss whilst he uses his hands to tug down your undergarments.

He'd thought about letting you do all the work to see how you measure up in comparison to him, but he also wants to show off his own dominance, and that want seems to win out over the other. You don't contest this either, in fact you're very good at matching his pace. You clearly have experience, so as he takes control, you meet him with equal enthusiasm and reciprocate his eager actions while still letting him do as he pleases. It's a dynamic that satisfies him greatly. He wishes more of his hook-ups were as good as you were, and he thinks he understands your reputation now as you probably do his.

You're likely the best lay he's had in a while, and he says so as you both blissfully enjoy the afterglow. You laugh breathlessly, but you give him the compliments he was wishing for in return. It's nice finding someone who can understand you—you don't mean to earn the title of 'heartbreaker', you just enjoy casual encounters and don't so much like the mess of dealing with any added on complicated feelings.

You two are cut from the same cloth then, Alastor informs you. He doesn't care for feelings like that either.

Your relationship after that consists of casual conversations and hook-ups. Alastor had a few people he frequented for one-night-stands, but you were probably his favourite amongst them. The conversation was good; the sex was better. You were easy to get along with and proved to be a good drinking companion, but most of all, Al enjoyed your sexual compatibility.

You were good at knowing what he liked and when he liked it. You were so good, in fact, he didn't mind (only occasionally and only once you'd lay together a sufficient number of times) if you took the lead.

Whenever the two of you happened to come across each other, which seemed to happen more often as time went on and Al found himself visiting the same tavern on the same specific days, the night would always end with you both stumbling into your room, drunk or merely tipsy, stripping each other's clothes off before the door was even closed.

The afterglow was always amazing. Sometimes Al would want to go for another round right after. You didn't typically cuddle or do anything too romantic besides kissing, but as time went on, Al would want to sleep with your body pressed against his and wake up with his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin nestled into the crook of your neck. A position like that would usually turn him on enough that he'd want to go again in the morning as well. Best of all, you didn't seem to mind as far as he could tell.

He wouldn't say his feelings for you were romantic so to speak, but he also didn't spend much time thinking about how he should classify them. He enjoyed your company, and he enjoyed sleeping with you. That was all he bothered to know.

On one night he'd been so eager, he'd took you three times before he was finally satisfied, and you joked, breathless and panting, that it seemed like he was getting too addicted to this—was he, by chance, in love? It had been a joke on your end, and Al laughed it off like one, but he was vaguely aware that somewhere, maybe, there might be truth in that joke.

Eventually he got impatient at the infrequency with which he was able to see you at. He still had hook-ups with other people, but no one could quite sate him like you did. It would be so much easier if he didn't have to rely on running into you at a tavern to have his way with you. It would be easier if you were part of his gang instead. You already worked in a similar field to him, doing odd jobs and gathering information, so there shouldn't be any reason why you couldn't do that under him instead.

He proposed as much one night. You'd be paid more handsomely then you were now, and you'd have access to him whenever you liked. A perfect deal, wasn't it? He expected you to agree right away; he didn't see any reason why you should refuse.

But you did refuse him. So nonchalantly too.

You knew about his goals. He wanted to overthrow the royal family, didn't he? You weren't so interested in that. You never took this gig too seriously. It was just something you did to pay the bills, and your relationship with Al was just some fun you had on the side, not a way to leech a job off him. You reassured him you were flattered he thought you capable enough for his gang, but you didn't want to be tied down like that.

You must've thought he'd take a rejection like that well. He had told you he wasn't interested in complicated feelings after all, so you had no reason to believe otherwise. But you were wrong. He was quick to scoff at you, berating you for being foolish. Why pass up such a good opportunity? It's not like he offers this to just anyone. The flip in his mood from relaxed and easy-going to critically scathing was so sudden, you were slack-jawed for a solid couple of seconds.

You talked him down, but he left the next morning noticeably bitter.

After that, he noticed you were avoiding him. He'd visit your usual haunts and find someone else sat at the bar in your place. He went from feeling unsettled to feeling erratic. Had you just disappeared? Did you think you could just escape him? He wouldn't let you get away easily... next time he saw you, he'd...

You did eventually show up again, looking no different than you had before. Al approached you, and he greeted him casually as if nothing had happened. That pissed him off. Didn't you know he was looking for you? Didn't you know how you'd made him feel?

He acted naturally however, only slipping in the occasional scathing remark that you laughed off with slightly less ease than before, and finally, after what felt like weeks, did Al find his way into your bed again.

He was noticeably rougher, overpowering you the moment you closed the door and practically ripping your clothes off. He shoved his tongue down your throat so you couldn't talk, and when he very quickly got around to fucking you, he forced you down onto the bed and curled his body over yours like a shell, keeping his face close to your ear so you could hear every ragged breath, and thrusting his hips so deeply your moans caught in your throat in strangled gasps.

It felt good, but it felt dangerous too. Like you were sleeping with a ticking timebomb. Al was glad you'd found your way back to him, and he wasn't planning on letting you go again. Perhaps you shouldn't have given him another chance.

He wasn't quite as rough the next few times you slept together, but he was still rough nonetheless. Al would always want to keep going too. Once wasn't enough for him anymore. He ignored the signs of discomfort that were slowly cropping up on your end; in his mind, it only mattered that you were back with him. Besides, you'd still moan when he fucked you, and that was all the confirmation he needed that you were enjoying this as much as him. You were such a filthy slut. He should've figured that out earlier.

Al wonders if you wouldn't mind sleeping with him exclusively. If pleasure and fun was all you cared about, then you didn't really need to worry. He was good at what he did, and he was experienced. You'd never get bored with him. You didn't need to worry about 'paying the bills' either. You'd never not feel amazing with him, nor would you go hungry. When he gets his title back, he thinks amusedly, you can come with him and be his own personal little whore. There didn't have to be feelings involved in that, did there? You shouldn't have any problems.

He thinks about a scenario like that more often than he probably should. He hardly even thinks about Orion or his family anymore. He just wants his wealth and status back. The mindpower that doesn't go towards plotting instead goes towards thinking about you and the things he wants to do with you.

He wants to fuck you, of course. But he wants other things too. He wants you to belong to him—wants to be able to say he owns you, have you only spend time with him. He doesn't want you so much as touching anyone else. He should just lock you up. A slut like you only needs the most basic care, right? Food, water, shelter, and his cock. He bet even if you refused him and he forced himself on you anyway, you'd still end up moaning like a wanton whore by the end of it.

He'd never really had thoughts this extreme. He'd thought of things like this passively or jokingly, but he'd never wanted to act on them. These thought he did want to act upon though. They were proving problematic, especially when a stray thought about you during his normal work day would result in spiralling fantasies that left him uncomfortably hard and wanting release.

The only satisfying release would predictably come from you, and you... were regrettably starting to avoid him again.

That wouldn't be the case for long. It didn't matter to him if he had to do something more extreme to make it so. He just wanted you by him, and it didn't matter to him how got you there. You wouldn't complain for long. After all the nights you'd spent together, he still knew exactly how to please you. Eventually, you wouldn't complain at all.

[malexicon]

.

[mini-melo]

hahaha im writing this as im working online, and while my doc said i shouldnt tire myself, i literally need to write this or im gonna burst.

this is more focused around the hermits and tommy's interactions before ghostinnit happened. also, the hermits here are the ones closest to tommy and also the most i could write at midnight and trying to fight off meds that mke me sleepy.

anyway, feel free to request any scenario or just tommy vibing with other hermits. i'll do my best to write it.

anyway, without further ado, i present a part of my hermit!tommy au that isnt angst, finally.

---

GRIAN

Tommy took to Grian like water off a duck's back. It didn't take long before both were wrecking havoc among the server.

For Grian's part, he takes one look at this tall gremlin, and practically adopts him. Gremlins of chaos should stay together, after all.

(He wants those haunted eyes of the newbie to be gone. He wants to help him just like Hermitcraft helped Grian in the aftermath of YHS and EVO.)

They start small, rearranging the contents of Lookie Lookie at My Bookie. Then they get pink carpets and covers the heart in Mumbo's base with it.

They grab baby Yoda from Scar again, and set up a treasure hunt filled with chicken canons and slime blocks in the most infuriating parts of the hunt.

(Grian introduces Poultry Man to Tommy, and then Pesky Bird is born.)

Tommy never thought he'd have any more brothers after DSMP happened, but here we are, with Tommy in full Pesky Bird attire, setting up a giant chicken above the Omega Tree and Grian—sorry, Poultry Man—makes poop made out of diorite until it touches one of the gigantic branches.

And, hey, if Iskall tried to stifle a grin as he complains at the laughing duo, then that's between him and his now-clean tree.

---

XISUMA

It wasn't Xisuma who actually emotionally adopted Tommy. No, no, it was Tommy who forced himself into the admin's life.

Tommy is a traumatized child from a server with a corrupt admin. A server with a fixed set of lives. A server with a ghost, with hybrids forced to hide themselves or limit themselves, or even cut off their extra appendages unless they want the admin to permanently kill them.

But Tommy is also smart. He started more than one nation, he led an army in more than one war, he fought two withers and came out alive, he's bled and died so much that he's lost count.

Tommy knows what corruption in a person looks like, but he also knows what a proper admin is.

(He has to thank SMPEarth for that, war-torn as it was. At least then, no admin abused their powers. At least then he could respawn and freely watch his dad Philza Minecraft soar in the sky with no care for the world.)

Because of this, Tommy can be seen around Xisuma if he isn't around his fellow gremlin. Tommy watched him tend to his bees, make more towers, make some redstone contraptions, and most importantly, learns about this unbelievable, utopic land that Tommy's found himself in.

When Tommy started making his starter base, he made it beside Xisuma's mega base. He tried to replicate the style of Xisuma's, and while not quite perfect, Xisuma hugs Tommy regardless.

(He's never be proud of his accomplishments before, no matter if he braided Techno's hair as a child, nor if he gave his most valuable possessions and a life to win a war.)

Xisuma, Tommy thinks, has been more of a father than what he remembers from Philza and his childhood.

---

ZOMBIECLEO

When Cleo managed to save Wilbur's coat, Tommy all but clings to her. In the DSMP, you can't trust anybody with your valuables, whether they offered to fix it or not.

Tommy took a leap here, to lend the coat to Cleo and praying to gods he didn't believe that she'll fix it instead of burning it.

(It's the only thing Tommy has of his family. Or, well, the only family he acknowledges. Wilbur was more of a father than Phil ever was, when they were children. Granted the bar was pretty low, but Tommy liked to cling to even the smallest bit of affection.)

Cleo smiles and teaches Tommy how to stitch and pose armour stands. Tommy isn't the best, with his sloppily made leather armour and wonky amour stand, but Cleo still praises him, and Tommy thinks it's the prettiest thing he's ever made.

Perfection isn't the point of this, anyway. Cleo taught Tommy, however unconsciously, to be patient and be proud of his own work. Tommy thanks her with two armour stands hand in hand at the entrance of her zoo, Cleo and Tommy's head on each of it. There are sloppily made copies of their outfits, even his coat's own stitches and Cleo's tears in her own clothes are there.

(Tommy eventually makes armour stand stories in a room dedicated to it in his mega base, later in the season. Cleo will unashamedly admit she shed a tear.)

---

[ironmariposa]

Sound of Silence Ch 1 Agustín

Found on Ao3

Their screams are silenced by the crashing of debri. Agustín holds tightly to Julieta, as she reaches out a hand to the house, Mirabels name on her lips as she screams. Agustin’s free hand grips Luisa as she attempts to run back into the still collapsing house. A feat he never would have been able to accomplish if she still had her gift and yet she’s still strong and it takes more of his strength to keep her back. Isabela is just in front of them, crouching down, her arms over her head.

It all seems to happen in slow motion. They can see Mirabel one moment as Casita attempts to help her down and then the next moment she’s gone, the tower crashing down over her. His heart … he doesn’t know how he hasn’t collapsed because he knows it stopped for the long minutes it takes for the house to finish collapsing in on itself.

And then silence. Eerie silence. The kind of silence you can feel in your bones and is so unsettling. The kind of silence the Encanto has never known since its birth over fifty years ago.

Agustín meets Félix’s eyes and they nod. Félix hands Antonio to his brother and Agustín hands Julieta to Luisa.

“Take her, Lu, take her.” He insists and then he’s running past where their Casitas door stood just moments ago, just steps behind his hermano.

“MIRABEL!” Félix cries out and Agustín repeats the shout as they stumble through the rubble. Their home is in complete ruin. He knows from living there for over twenty years where the kitchen should be, where his room should be but it’s all gone. Just piles of brick and wood and dust. So much dust.

“WATCH OUT!” Félix shouts just as a loud creak sounds behind him. Félix manages to grab him by his shirt and yank him out of harm's way just as a pile of bricks tumbles down where he stood. They stare at one another for a long moment with wide eyes.

“Lola. Keep everyone out of here.” Félix shakes his head, “She can’t hear me.” He then shouts for everyone to stay out. That it’s still far too dangerous.

“Mirabel? Have you found Mirabel?” Julieta cries out and Agustín closes his eyes for a moment before answering. His voice is shaky as he responds in the negative. His wife’s cries can be heard and Félix squeezes his shoulder, “Come on. Careful.”

It’s another hour before they find anything. Some of the townspeople start to help them dig through the debris but Agustín refuses to let Julieta or the kids help. As time passes he becomes less and less hopeful. His voice hoarse from screaming his baby’s name. Each time he hopes for some sound that she’s okay. Even those that came to help are silent as they dig, hoping to hear just the smallest sound. Félix stays by his side. He doesn’t have to ask why.

There’s a shout and they hurry to where most of the rubble is piled up. Where Bruno’s tower collapsed. Mariano is trying to lift a large piece of debris and when they arrive he points. A bit of blue can be seen. Blue like his daughter's skirt. Her beautiful skirt she had been so proud of and wore all of the time because she had embroidered it with her family's gifts.

It takes hours for them to dig to the bottom of the pile. It’s pitch black out but there’s plenty of torches and fires lit. As the last big piece is moved, everyone seems to move away leaving just Agustín and Félix with his baby. He collapses over her as the sobs overwhelm him.

Félix stands beside him, a hand on his shoulder, squeezing so tight it should be painful but he feels nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“It looks like Casita tried to protect her.” Félix murmurs as he moves a window panel

Agustín glances up at his hermano to see tears streaming down his own face, “I need to tell Juli.” He glances back at his daughter, “Oh Dios, how do I tell her?”

“You don’t. Let me. Let me carry what I can for you hermano.”

Agustín nods as he slips his arms under Mirabel's neck and knees. He pulls her into his arms, she’s so light. Lighter than she should be for a fifteen year old. She’s covered in dust, her hair looks gray and he takes a moment to brush his hand over her hair. Félix leans forward and gently brushes his hand over her eyes to close them. Agustín doesn’t know if he’s thankful or not. On the one hand he wants to see her beautiful brown eyes for as long as possible, on the other her eyes were not that of his daughters. They had lost their luster, what made his Mirabel, her. Standing he turns to make his way out of Casita, Félix helping him with a hand at his elbow. They stumble and finally are on green grass before he collapses again in grief.

Félix is at his side, arm around his shoulder, head close to his. They both sob until they hear a sound behind them. Agustín shakes his head, “She shouldn’t see her like this.” There’s so much blood, he takes the sleeve of his shirt and starts to clean Mirabels face with it. Trying his best to clear the blood before his wife, Mirabel's mamí, sees her baby.

“I’m going to make sure the kids don’t come.” Félix says. Agustín nods and then he’s alone with his baby girl.

He remembers the first time he held her, it had been a difficult birth. Much harder on Julieta than their first two had been. Mirabel had been stubborn and had not wanted to come into the world. But when she did, it was miraculous. He swore she came out singing. And never stopped.

Her wide eyes had blinked up at him and immediately she smiled. Everyone had told him it was impossible, that babies couldn’t smile that young but he knew what he saw and she never stopped smiling. Even when the world threw all sorts of obstacles in her way. His Mirabel smiled. She had many different types of smiles, her excited one that made her bounce, her shy one that looked so much like her mamá’s, her scrunched up nose smile she gave him when he was being a “dad”. Her mischievous smile when her and Camilo were up to no good. That one always made him chuckle. He really wishes he could see one of her smiles right that moment.

The wail he hears behind him shatters his heart more than it already is. He never thought he would ever hear his wife in such despair, not if he could help it. He looks to her over his shoulder and she’s already crumbled to the ground, her hand over her mouth as she again cries out. She’s too far away from him and he feels helpless. He won’t put his daughter down but he needs to go to his wife, his amor.

Isabela steps up beside her mom, frozen but for a moment as she looks to where her sister lies in his arms. Agustín shakes his head, “Isa, no.” But her eyes harden and she reaches for her mamá, helps her to her feet and over to Agustín.

“Isa.” He gasps and she touches his cheek.

“It’s okay, papá.” She whispers as tears drop down her face.

Julieta takes Mirabel from his arms and sobs into her neck. Isabela sits beside him, her arms wrap around his waist as she leans into him and his breath hitches.

“Casita tried.” He tells his wife, “Casita tried to protect her.”

“Casita always favored her.” Isabela says into the silence.

And it’s true. Casita always seemed to come more alive when his Mirabel was nearby. It’s only fitting that it has died with her.

[xaharadesert]

Random Headcanons Pt. 3

Arcana Characters (Main 6) x MC

A/N: It’s my birthday in a few hours, so I felt like sharing some joy with all of you lovely people! Requests are open, but feel free to send any kind of message that you’d like! I love hearing from people, even if we’ve never interacted before!

❤️Julian❤️

He’s so proud of how far you’ve come in life

Even if you feel like you haven’t achieved anything yet, he’s proud of you

He knows that even just getting out of bed is a huge accomplishment, and everything that follows is just as important

He likes to give you little kisses throughout the day as rewards :)

No matter what happens, please know that he’s proud of you and everything you do

🧡Portia🧡

She thinks you’re the cutest!

Yes! You, specifically! You! Are! Adorable!

She likes to come up to you at random times and gently squish your face with her hands and just smile at how cute you are

Every time she looks at you, her heart soars

She didn’t even know she could find someone so adorable until she met you, and now she finds it hard to look away

💛Lucio💛

He thinks you’re the best person to ever exist (except for maybe himself)

Please keep in mind, he wouldn’t be in love with someone who was not worthy of his time, so really he could only ever love you

And don’t you dare suggest otherwise, because his tastes are perfect, and he won’t hear a word against them

You’re perfect just the way you are, and even if you don’t see it, he’ll make sure you’re more than aware of how he sees you

💚Muriel💚

He wants you to know that it’s okay to take it slow sometimes

He of all people knows that life can be overwhelming at times, and he wants to remind you that it’s okay to just take a step back and breathe

You are loved, and you are safe, no matter what

He will never let you forget that you can always depend on him, and he’ll do whatever he can to help, even with the smallest task

Even if you need some time to do nothing at all, he will 100% support you

💙Asra💙

He loves you unconditionally, and I don’t say that lightly

He would move mountains to see you happy, and he would give up just about anything to keep you safe

And if you think even for a moment that he wouldn’t love you for exactly who you are, you’re wrong

He fell in love with you because you’re you

He wouldn’t change you for the world

No matter what happens or what you do, he will always love and support you with his entire heart

💜Nadia💜

She wants to remind you that it’s okay to be selfish sometimes

You’re not responsible for anyone’s happiness but you’re own, no matter what you may tell yourself

She wants you to pamper yourself without waiting for a special occasion to do so

Just being alive should be a celebration

She wants you to be genuinely happy with your life, and she always encourages you to put yourself first

[maibi]

All You Really Needed

Gojo Satoru x reader

Warnings: contains a spoiler of one of the first few episodes.. the summary also contains that spoiler so be wary!!

Summary: after the death of Itadori Yuuji, Gojo finally let’s go of his strong posture and breaks down in front of you. (I suck at descriptions I know T_T)

A/N: I apologise for any mistakes,, this was not proofread plus I am sleep deprived 99% of the time so I have no clue what im writing lmao. Anyways ENJOY!

——————————————————————————

Gojo wasn’t one that opened up about his feelings or emotions, whereas you were the complete opposite of that. your days together were mostly filled with you rambling about your days teaching the first years at Kyoto Jujutsu High. You loved your students, but it was a tiring job to train them constantly. 

Gojo never seemed to complain about his work or students and he didn’t really seem to take his job seriously, yet he always pulled it off. He talked about his so called dream to change the jujutsu world when in reality that wouldn’t be as simple as he thought it was. Even for the strongest shaman, this is a job that was almost impossible to accomplish alone. But as much as Gojo had confidence in himself, you believed he’d get far. Because whatever he wants always comes his way. 

For example: you.

You and Gojo were actually classmates throughout high school, but nothing really happened between you back then. Being in a class of 4 didn’t really help with getting you two closer. It would be you and your friend and he with his. It wasn't rivalry or hatred, but rather a situation of seeing each other but ignoring each other’s presence. Your personalities just didn't match, or at least that’s what the both of you had convinced yourself to believe. 

It wasn't until both of you actually became teachers that you grew closer to each other and that’s also when you realized he wasn’t as bad as you thought he was. Yes he was quite the clown, but in reality he was a very caring person. 

The first years of your teaching career had been a constant loop of Gojo trying his best to get closer to you. His personality hadn’t changed much, but in whole  honesty there wasn’t much different in yours either. The only difference was, that the both of you had finally become adults.

You liked Gojo, but telling him that back then would be like giving in on his constant confessions that you rejected as if it was a daily routine. Sooner or later you gave in, not being able to resist him. He knew you would fall for him, because he always gets his way.

You had been together for a long while now and even though you didn’t actually live together it was as good as if he lived with you. Both of you had an own place to stay at, but given the circumstances you always were together. With the whole Yuuji situation the teachers and higher ups didn’t really have a choice but to be together constantly. Stuff had to be talked about and for Gojo his students’ safety was his number one priority. Even though yuuji had brought this all on himself, Gojo had no intentions of letting him die any time soon. If they let him, he wouldn’t even let him die. 

He always looked as if he was having the time of his life, but you knew him longer than today and sometimes his masked slipped. He didn’t deepen the conversation when you pointed it out, but he was already happy to have you by his side. He didn’t need words to comfort him, but even if he didn’t it felt as if you didn’t do much for him. You wanted to show him that you cared for him and that you would listen to him if he needed to vent.

He didn’t show, but the whole Yuuji situation messed with his head. The higher up scheming Yuuji’s death and Gojo constantly running behind his back to make sure Yuuji is safe. It tired him. He always said he was okey and gave you kiss on top of your head. It was a constant routine, but you noticed. You noticed how he’d fall asleep the second he arrived home and how he let his weight fall on you when you hugged him. You didn’t say anything because you didn’t want him to feel pressured. But you desperately hoped he would talk to you because the both of you knew that would be a big relief for him. 

You went home earlier than usual. The students had begged you for a day off, but just randomly giving them a break was not the best option in these hectic days. They had to train, they had to get stronger. So you made a deal. If they caught you, you’d give them free the rest of the day. Of course they failed, but you saw great accomplishments so you agreed on giving them free for the rest of the day. They were also tired, you could tell. But you didn’t want them to get hurt because you weren’t able to teach them properly. 

You sighed as you dropped your weight on the couch. You let your head fall back and looked at the ceiling. Your eyes darted to the clock on the wall. About an hour from now Gojo should be home. You could already tell how he’d be when he got home. His sleep deprived posture walking inside as he slumped on the bed. You felt bad to see him like that.

You were surprised to hear the door open and when you turned your head you say Gojo walking inside with his blindfolds in his hand. His hair was wet and he was supporting himself against the wall. You noticed this wasn't like normal, but before you could even walk up to him he had left to the bedroom and slammed the door shut. You knew it wasn’t directed you so you immediately knew something was wrong. 

You raised from the couch and made your way to the bedroom. You knocked once and walked inside. “Hey, Satoru”, you said silently. 

He was laying on his back on the bed, his feet touching the ground. You walked up to him and sat down next to him. You brushed your hand in his hair and felt water droplets collect on your hand, but you didn’t really care. He was breathing heavily and his heart was beating rapidly in his chest. 

You didn’t was a word and kept your touch on his hair. He slowly rose from his laying position and rested his arms on his legs. His head was bent downwards and naturally your touch left his. You placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. “Are you alright-”

And suddenly he dropped his head on your legs. You noticed that he was refusing to look at you. He was rejecting any kind of eye contact, just so you wouldn’t have to see his worn out face. He mumbled something, but you didn’t hear him. But before you could ask him to repeat himself, he spoke up again.

“Yuuji is-”, he said with a crack in his voice. “Yuuji is dead.”

You were shocked. Your heart dropped and you couldn’t even imagine how torn he must be feeling. He stood up and showed you his face. His eyes were red, he had been crying. 

You placed your hands on his face and a tear rolled down his cheek. You wiped it away, caressing the spot a few times. “He did his best, so much. He wanted to become stronger, but I failed him.”

“No you didn't and I'm sure he thinks the same. You were so good to him and you thought him many amazing things. I bet he was so proud to say that he had you as his mentor. He was a great kid”, you said in a whisper to calm him down. 

This was the first time he had shown any sign of vulnerability. You didn’t want to let him down and you wanted to show him that you cared. You wanted to show him that you were there for him, that you were willing to do anything in your power and beyond to help him.

“They killed him. They planned this, they schemed it so that he would die. They’ve been wanting him dead from the beginning and I swear I'm not gonna let them have this. I will destroy every single on of them and I will show them exactly how much of a mistake they made”, he said in a small voice.

“Hey, you did the best you could. And I have trust in you. I know you’re gonna make it and you’re gonna show them exactly how powerful you are. This won’t go unnoticed and we will make sure of that. Yuuji’s death will not be in vain”, you said.

You embraced him and pulled him flush against you. You pressed your lips together and closed your eyes as you squeezed him, as if he was about to fall from your grip and were to never return.

“We will get revenge”, you whispered as you felt his breath against your neck and felt the wetness of his tears create a damp spot on your shirt. “For Yuuji.”

You stayed like that for a while and you were almost convinced he was asleep. You slowly tried to wriggle the both of you in a laying position because you didn't want to wake him up, but his arm squeezing around your waist told you that he didn’t want to move just yet. 

He moved away from your grip but placed his hands on your cheeks. “Thank you for being here for me and thank you for always knowing how to deal with me.”

You gave him a small smile of reassurance. You placed your hand on his cheek once again and pulled him in for a kiss, a small brush on the lips. “I will do everything in my power to help you get through this. And I will use up every bit of energy to carry on Yuuji’s will. We will protect the students together and we will take revenge for the teenager’s death. And we’ll do it together.”

No other word were spoken that night. No words were needed that night. The both of you had understood and the both of you had agreed. It was the first time Gojo had openly showed his feelings and you were more than happy to receive those emotions with open arms. To show him just how much you cared for him. But in reality he already knew and he didn’t need you to comfort him alone to understand that. He was a person that looked out for the smallest details and you just being there next to him, was really all he needed. And him being there, next to you was all you really needed.

[laismoura-art]

Hello people!! Today is Day 3 of the @subscorp-week AU day!

I've been writing a MK fanfic lately and I thought, what better day to post it than today?

The story is the Classic "What if Sub Zero defeated Kronica and gained the control over the Hourglass?"

So this is an Intro to this story and hopefully I'll get to post the rest in the future.

So yeah, hope you all enjoy this first chapter! 💙💛

What The Winter Winds May Bring. Chapter 1: Till We Meet Again.

I've been staring at this for a long time now. Far too long. Kronica's Hourglass. Or my Hourglass now. With the power of rebuild time itself. It could change everything. I could change everything. For everyone...

"It's tempting, isn't it?" The raspy voice doesn't startle me. I heard him the moment he entered the room, with his unmistakable footsteps.

"Is it? I haven't noticed." I acknowledge his presence but don't take my eyes off the Hourglass. Though I must admit, his visit makes me very happy. Just when I thought I had no one else here for me. He comes back as if he had never left. This makes me smile despite myself.

"Course you haven't. A man such as yourself wouldn't fall for the temptations of time traveling."

He comes closer and stands beside me, from the corner of my eye, I can see his hood covering his face, his eyes... His return hasn't come without a price.

"You flatter, Hanzo. Though we both know that's not true." I finally find the courage to look at him, assuring myself that he won't just disappear and leave me... Like everyone else.

He doesn't look back. I know why. That's the worst part.

"So, you *are* considering using this?" He asks curiously, and what else can I do if not answer him honestly?

"I could do so much. Save the Lin Kuei, my friends... my brother. I could even save you. I could save your family and clan."

He finally turns and face me, his eyes glowing in white, there's no life in there. Oh Hanzo...

"Would you do this?" He asks. As if it wasn't obvious.

"You're my friend, Hanzo. I would do anything for you."

My words surprise him, I see his bright eyes widening in response. I can understand. As a grandmaster, you are used to do everything for your people, but not the other way around.

"Careful with that, Kuai, some people may abuse your kindness."

The bitter laugh that comes out of my mouth is involuntary. I've heard this lecture a million times before when I was Tundra. My brother used to repeat those exact same words.

"You sound like Bi-Han."

I say without thinking, not considering how these words will be interpreted by Hanzo.

"I'm sorry." He says, but he's not sorry, he's offended. His tone just implies I should be the one who's sorry.

"I didn't mean to offend." I speak.

"What did you mean then?"

I avoid looking at Hanzo, focusing my glance to the Hourglass. And with the smallest smile, I give him an answer.

"You have much in common, you and Bi-Han. Have things been different, you could've been friends."

I don't know what reaction I was expecting, but the chuckle I received was a very pleasant one.

"I could say this would be impossible. But our own friendship is living proof that... Maybe you're right."

Hanzo's smiles are something I grew used and quite fond to. It's a sight so rare that I can't help but feel very proud of myself every time I make it happen. Like right now.

He turns is gaze to the only object in the room. The Hourglass. Practically begging for me to use it.

"So, tell me, why are you still here? Wondering about what this world could've been, instead of turning it into what it should be?"

"I don't know... Maybe I just wanted to see you before I go."

He looks back at me with disbelief. "You stayed to wait for an old ghost?"

If only this "old ghost" knew how much he means to me...

"When I defeated Kronica I had nothing. Now I have you."

His smile falters. He just arrived, and it already feels like he's ready to leave.

"I'm not staying for long, Kuai"

"No, you're not."

Since Kronica's attack, Netherrealm has been set in pure chaos. No leaders. No order. Though Hanzo has no real attachments to that place, his nature as a wrath keeps him bond to hell. He came to say goodbye, he'll go back to Netherrealm, so I'll have no reason to stay here.

"You should go." He insists sensing my hesitance.

He brings his warm hand closer to my cold one, gently interweaving our fingers. I take a moment to appreciate the gesture, we remain silent for this few minutes. And then he promises:

"I'll meet you when the time is right."

Hopefully, he's right, and hopefully we will meet differently. Though I treasure the things we overcame and accomplished. I wouldn't be opposed to a more peaceful story for a change.

"In this case... I'll see you soon, my friend."

I leave short after, we part ways with respectful bows and the promise to meet again. In another timeline. In another life.

[the-bau-quinjet]

And I confess, babe

Part 6 of In Breakable Heaven!

Summary: Feelings are confessed... sort of.

Warnings: none 

Word count: ~2400

“There’s something I haven’t been completely honest about.” You blurted out taking a break from cleaning. It had been a few months since Halloween, and you and Spencer have hung out whenever possible, but never calling anything a date. You had both gotten pretty busy with the holidays, but still made time. He is basically your best friend, but you want more than that. You just aren’t sure he feels the same way. 

Spencer turned from where he was reading on the couch immediately mirroring the nervous expression he could see on your face. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything. That’s what friends are for.” Ugh, friends. This is so confusing. As he walked up to you, you thought you noticed a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but you brush it off. You need to focus.

You have never told any of your friends about this. It’s almost like you were living two lives and all the sudden you wanted them to merge. Well, really you just wanted an excuse to sing love songs to the man standing in front of you without completely freaking him out. “You know how much I love Taylor Swift, right?” You could see the confusion growing on his face 

“Um, yeah. That’s not exactly a secret…” he chuckles as he searches for the truth in your eyes. 

“Well, um... I kind of... well… it’s not really a big deal, but I… you see…”

 “Y/N, just tell me. I promise not to freak out.” He interrupted, the confusion evident on his face.

“Okay, just… I’m inaTaylorSwiftcoverband…” You blurt, the words rushing from your mouth. You cover your face with your hands. Of course, boy genius understood the mess of a sentence you just said, realization slowly dawning on him.

 “Y/N, why were you so nervous to tell me?” He sounded shocked. “You know I would support you no matter what. When’s your next show? I would love to go see you perform.” The sincerity in his voice made tears well up in your eyes. 

You rushed to hug him as you said “I don’t know why I was so nervous. I guess people can be really harsh when you are a Taylor Swift fan. Nobody takes you seriously, ya know? I started the band because her music made me better at conveying my emotions. It was actually a kind of therapy for me at first, but then I fell in love with performing. I actually wanted to tell you so I could invite you, and the rest of the team, to my next show. It’s Saturday night.”

 He ran his hands up and down your back before pulling away to look you in the eyes. “I will be there.” He said, matter-of-factly. 

“Yay!” You were practically jumping with joy that the conversation went well. It felt kind of stupid to be so worried over other people’s perception of your music interests, but you’ve always been self-conscious of being the “weird” girl. It made even the smallest decision so hard for you. “I want you to invite the rest of the team, but keep it a surprise. I haven’t told Penelope, and I’ve known her 2 years longer than you.” He laughed as you realized how comfortable you must have felt with Spencer to be inviting him and his friends to see you perform. Usually the only way you made it through was knowing there was nobody in the audience that would recognize you enough to make fun of you. But, it was time for a change. You have always been proud of your accomplishments, and the people you called your friends should be a part of that.

 “You should know there’s always a theme to the show. I like to tell a story with her songs, pulling from all the albums helps make it more cohesive.” You wanted him to be a little bit prepared for what you had planned. 

“What’s the story for this show?” Spencer asked, curiosity brewing in his mind. 

“Well Doc, I’m afraid that’s a secret. You’ll have to wait and see.” Spencer kept pestering you to find out the theme, but you refused to tell him. Finally, he returned to reading as you cleaned the rest of your apartment.

--

 Saturday came much faster than you were expecting. The nerves you felt kept growing as you tried to finalize the set list you would be performing in just a few hours. The stories you usually tell don’t normally rely so heavily on your own life experiences. But, that’s why you fell in love with Taylor’s music in the first place. The songs are so relatable. It’s incredible how well she can convey emotions and stories with her lyrics. Plus, this is your chance to tell Spencer how you feel without having too much pressure. If he doesn’t say anything about the obvious theme, you could just pretend you made up the story for the audience. It would be fine. No pressure at all.

 The hours until your show drifted away as you got ready and arrived at the venue. You were actually playing in an auditorium instead of a bar for the first time in a few months. The night had been heavily marketed for couples since Valentine’s day is next week, but you knew your friends would all be there to support you. Going over the set list with the band, they knew exactly what mood you were going for. It was clear there were three sections to the night: 1) the break up, drawing heavily on your experience with Drew, 2) moving on from the failed relationship as you form a new crush, possibly on an incredibly hot doctor, and 3) where you wanted this new relationship to go. That storyline is what made the marketing so good. Couples could come and just be in love, relating the music to their own lives. Plus, people were itching for something to do since no real artists were touring in DC right now.

 You glance out at the audience as the lights flicker, indicating only a few minutes until show time. You find Spencer and the rest of the crew, barring Hotch and Rossi, easily as you put them in the front row. You wanted to be able to see their faces, or completely look over their heads. It all depends on the expression of the one and only Spencer Reid.

 “Hello, and welcome to the show!” You try to hide the nerves. You’ve done this plenty of times, but knowing who is in the audience is taking a toll. “In case you didn’t know, with every show I do, I try to tell a story. Usually, it is based on a movie or a book, but today I am trying something a little bit new. No book, no movie, just a story. It’s got three parts to it. Part one sucks.” You laugh along with the audience. “It’s about a breakup and learning to move on. So let’s get started!”

 You immediately jump into the first song Babe. Technically it features Taylor Swift, but she wrote it so it counts. Plus, it is the perfect song to describe your feelings to finding Drew cheating on you, and she did write it.

 This is the last time I’ll ever call you Babe.

 “Now, I know how hard it can be to get over someone who you’ve been with a long time. Especially when combined with the pain of them cheating on you. This next song describes that mentality of recognizing that someone won’t change because you want them to. Sometimes, the best thing to do is cry and scream and move on.” The instrumental to You’re Not Sorry begins to play as you calm you’re nerves.

 This is the last straw. Don’t wanna hurt anymore. And you can tell me that you’re sorry, but I don’t believe you baby like I did before. You’re not sorry. No, no, no no.

 “I know, I know. No more sad songs! After you break up with someone, it can be pretty hard to not miss what you had. But eventually, you’ll get to a point where when they call you in the middle of the night, all you have to say is We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. Like ever.”

 You make it through the next song without a hitch. The crowd is clearly enjoying the show, which is actually helping with your nerves. You’ve glanced at your friends a few times, but nothing that lingers. You’re not quite mentally prepared to look at Spencer yet.

 “With every breakup, there is some amount of time afterward where you can’t help but think about them. No matter how badly it ended, there is at least a day. It could slowly fade out or it could just disappear one day, like magic. Either way, this song is how I personally feel once that window of time ends.”

 I forgot that you existed. It isn’t love, it isn’t hate, it‘s just indifference.

 This song really helped turn the mood around. Everybody is dancing and singing, clearly enjoying themselves. As the song ends, your nerves return a bit. This is the scary part.

 “And with that, we move on to part 2! As the saying goes, the best way to get over him is to get under someone else. Well, that’s not exactly where this is going, but it follows the same general logic.” The instrumental to Enchanted has already started as you finish the intro “Meeting someone who helps take your mind off the bad by making new memories.”

 All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you. This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go. I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home.

 This is the first song you are singing directly to Spencer, even if you can’t even look at him. You glance at every other member of the BAU, but you just can’t bring yourself to admit it to him. Not yet.

 Please don’t be in love with someone else. Please don’t have somebody waiting on you.

 You can feel the sting in your throat that comes from thinking of Spencer being with someone else, finally making you look at him. He seems happy. He’s not dancing as much as everyone else, but he is swaying. You count it as a win.

 “Now, I’m not saying the only way to get over a breakup is a new relationship. Sometimes, you just need a friend.” You clear your throat to go right into the next song.

 Wanna hang out? Yeah, sounds like fun. Video games, you pass me a note. Sleeping in tents. It’s nice to have a friend.

 This is where it’s supposed to be obvious who you are singing to. None of your newly formed friends really know the extent of your relationship with Spencer. But, you’ve convinced him to try a lot of new things. It started small, with hiking, but eventually you got him to agree to a short camping trip over a long weekend. It was freezing since it was November, but you just cuddled together around the fire. That is what makes this so nerve wracking. You are terrified of messing up your friendship.

 “Friends are the best resource post breakup. They always know how to put a smile on my face, no matter what I’m upset about. You could go so far as to say I’m Only Me When I’m With You.” You laugh at the corny joke, knowing that’s the next song you’re singing. “To be completely honest, this is kind of a story of the past few months of my life. I had a pretty bad breakup, but I met some new friends who really helped me through it. It’s nice to be completely honest about yourself with someone else.”

 I don’t try to hide my tears, my secrets, or my deepest fears. And through it all, nobody gets me like you do.

 “Now, we move onto the third and final part of the show. We’ve covered the past and the present, so all that’s left is the future! The future is unknown, which is kinda of scary when you think about it. So, it can really help to have someone who makes you feel Fearless.” So many lyrics make you want to stare at Spencer.

 I wanna ask you dance right there, in the middle of the parking lot.

-

Run your hands through your hair, absentmindedly making me want you.

-

And I don’t know why, but with you I’d dance in a storm in my best dress, fearless.

-

You’ve decided against looking at Spencer and the rest of the profilers. If you make eye contact you know they would 100% be able to see right through you. Just two more songs to get through. You don’t even pause to talk before the next song is playing.

 Cause all I know is you said, “Hello” and your eyes look like coming home.

 You’ve spent so long thinking about Spencer and his perfect freaking eyes that you subconsciously glance at him right then. The second you realize, you look away again, missing the look of complete adoration on his face.

 And meet me there tonight and let me know that it’s not all in my mind.

 “Alrighty folks, I’ve got one more song for you. You probably could’ve guessed it by now, part 3 is about a future relationship, one I’m not currently in. But that’s the thing about the future, you never really know what it holds.” This is where shit goes a little bit sideways. You didn’t plan on changing the lyrics. Most of the profilers seem to miss it, not recognizing that you switched one very crucial word in the song. The one profiler that notices the mistake has spent the last four months listening to every Taylor Swift song ever written because he’s spent so much time with you, and you are always listening to something.

 Dark jeans and your converse, look at you. Oh damn, never seen that color blue.

 Oh damn is right. You somehow manage to make it through the rest of the song, but now Spencer knows you were singing to him. You can’t decide if you’re glad it’s out there or if you are going to puke the second you run off stage.

 “Delicate is about the beginnings of a romance. It’s that point where you are scared any sudden movements will shatter everything you’ve built so far.” You take one final deep breathe. “It’s about admitting your feelings because you can’t move forward without taking the next step. That’s what the future is all about. Thank you all for coming, goodnight!” And with that, you left.

 tag list:

@mac99martin​ @goldeng1rl8​ @eevee0722 @l0ve-0f-my-life @haylaansmi @dinonuggets15 @laurakirsten0502 @green-intervention @burnin-passion @takeyourleap-of-faith @secretpickleprofessordean @awkwardnesshabitat @loveheathens @fan-girl-97

[winterscaptain]

rings.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

a/n: remember how i said aaron gives the girls haley’s rings? yep. here it is. it’s AU!2042 and i’ve included the kids’ ages and what they’ve been up to (which you may have seen earlier this week!) this is quite short, but i am hoping to tide y’all over until the weekend. love u

words: 1.5k warnings: none

summary: two rings, two daughters. 

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

Jonathan “Jack” Brooks Hotchner, 37, Department of Defense Civilian Contractor, holds a BS in Civil Engineering and an MS in Systems Engineering from George Washington University. Married, and has a son, aged 4. 

Isaac Spencer Hotchner, 26, PhD (3rd year) in Applied Behavioral Psychology at The Chicago School of Professional Psychology, holds a BA in Cognitive Science and an MS in Psychology from the University of California, Los Angeles. 

Caroline Emily Hotchner, 24, DPhil in Law (2nd year) at Trinity College Oxford, holds a BA in English from Brown University and an MSc in Conflict Studies at the London School of Economics

Sophia Haley Hotchner, 24, MS in Sports Management (1st year) at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, holds a BS in Kinesiology from the University of Southern California

Elliot David Hotchner, 20, BA in Linguistics (Junior/3rd Year) and D1 Pitcher for the University of California, Los Angeles

 +++

“I think it’s time.” 

You reach out for Aaron’s forearm and squeeze once. “I think so, too.” He stands with a sigh and your hand trails down his arm to his hand. “Hey.” He looks down at you. “I love you.” You offer him the smallest of smiles and he returns it.

“I love you.” 

Aaron crosses the house, climbs the stairs, and pops his head into the girls’ room with a little smile. “Girls, when you have a minute, can you come see me in my office?”

Caro, reading through a few affidavits against her headboard with her ankles crossed, nods without looking up. Soph shoots him a thumbs-up from her place on the floor, crouched like a gargoyle over her laptop, working on a project for her Master’s. 

The not-so-little ones are home for the winter holiday, and the house feels just a touch more alive with four-fifths of his children back in it. Elliot’s out back working on his curveball with Isaac, and Aaron can hear their crows of triumph every time the ball gives a satisfying thwack into Isaac’s mitt at about seventy miles per hour. There are mutterings about Minor League drafts, about grad school, etc. 

Aaron can’t help but be proud of his kids - they’ve never given him any reason not to be so. 

Jack and his family will join them next week, and the house will become that much fuller and louder. The addition of a toddler is always a welcome one, and Caroline is especially excited to see her nephew - this is the first winter she’s been home from Oxford since she started her doctorate. 

Aaron returns to his office and settles in, working out some lesson plans for the younger instructors at the academy. A few minutes later, two pairs of light footsteps track across the foyer (one pair even and the other pair just a bit favoring the left), and he moves to his chair, across from a little couch he put there just for the girls. His hands hide their gifts - closed into fists in his lap as they sit down. 

“I have something for each one of you. They are yours to keep from now on.” 

He addresses Caroline first. 

“Caroline Emily Hotchner, most days I feel like you were built special to be my daughter. Other days, I’m sure of it.” 

“Dad -”

He taps her knee with his knuckle, and she falls silent with a little smile. “I cannot tell you how proud I am of you and all you have accomplished. You, much like this,” he rolls his hand, and Haley’s engagement ring rests between his thumb and forefinger, “were custom-made for this family. You are one of a kind, very expensive, and cherished.” The adoration in his gaze undercuts his jab. 

She is, in fact, very expensive. 

But so worth it. 

Caroline is in tears, her face crumpled and breath shaky. The massive diamond casts rainbows on the wall, hit by the setting sun through the huge window behind Aaron’s desk. 

“This is the ring I gave to Haley when I asked her to marry me.  It’s yours. I had it re-sized, and if I’m right,” he takes her hand and slips the ring onto the middle finger of her left hand, “it should fit just perfectly.” 

It does. 

“Dad, I…” She’s overcome, and throws herself into Aaron’s arms. Sophia, leaning against the arm of the sofa, looks on with quiet, fond eyes. Caroline tucks her head into her father’s shoulder and he holds her close. “Thank you.” 

“I know you will appreciate its obvious beauty. Much like you, it’s eye catching.” He leans back, and bops the tip of her nose with his finger. 

He focuses on Sophia, who leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees and her hands laced together. She always sits that way when she’s really listening - confident and sturdy. 

“Sophia Haley Hotchner, I see so much of your namesake in you.” She smiles, wide and bright, making his point for him. “Your mother always says that if you didn’t come out of her body with your sister, looking exactly the same, she would be concerned.” 

Soph giggles, and her eyes get a little misty. 

“Haley’s heart was so big. She was tenacious, powerful, surprising. I see her in the love you have for Jack - the special bond you two share.” His brown eyes bore into hers, and she meets his gaze with her signature steadfastness. “I am so proud to be your father. You blow me away.” He flips his left hand, and Haley’s wedding band shines in the low light. It’s simple, a thin band with a tiny channel of diamonds arcing over the top. “I made a commitment to Haley with this ring - one that she fought for, bravely and without reservation. Now, it is yours.” 

Sophia holds her hand out, and he slips the ring on her middle finger. Another perfect fit.

“I know you will appreciate its simplicity. Much like you, it is representative of a great many things, all of which are often difficult to explain.” 

Soph takes a shaky breath, and admires the ring in the light. “Thank you, Dad. I love it.” 

He opens his hands, and the girls place one of theirs in each of his palms. “I consider the end of my marriage to Haley and my role in her death my biggest failure.” He makes no attempt to stifle the tears that fall from his eyes as he speaks, taking the occasional deep breath in an effort to keep going. “Haley died wearing those rings. They were part of her.” He pauses for a moment, collecting himself. “I kept them. And for a long time, I wasn’t sure why. I could have given them to Jessica, to Haley’s mother, to any number of people who would have loved and cherished them as I do.” 

Caroline drops to the floor like she did when she was little, popping up on her heels. She releases Aaron’s hand and brings her hands to his face. She wipes at his tears with her thumbs, and he smiles into her touch. When she’s satisfied, she drops her arms to his knee and rests her chin on them, listening. 

“But I kept them. Two rings, two daughters. I knew the moment you were born that they belonged to you. For nearly thirty years, they only ever belonged to you.” Sophia squeezes his hand, and he squeezes back. “Without my greatest failure, I would not know you. I would not be your father. I would have missed my greatest triumph.” 

Sophia watches him, pensive and gentle. She wraps her other hand around his, holding him tight. Looking at him, she realizes how much older he looks - his once-dark hair is more silver than black, the lines between his eyebrows and around his eyes and mouth are nearly canyons - but his eyes are the same. 

They’re always the same. Brown, deep, and warm. She’s heard stories of when the brown turned flinty in anger or frustration, but she’d never seen it herself. To her, they’ve always been cozy. Safe. Familiar. 

Her father always seemed outside of time when she was little. Maybe he still is, but she’s not so sure anymore...

She swiftly pushes the thought away. The prospect of adulthood without him is far too much to bear. 

“My girls, I would miss you even if we’d never met.” 

Between her father’s words and her train of thought, Soph breaks. She drops to the ground like her sister, but wraps herself around Aaron’s torso, her hands clasped together behind his back. He brings one arm around her, while his other hand rests on Caro’s head. 

“I love you, Soph.” 

She burrows deeper into his shirt, surely staining it with her tears. “I love you, Dad.” 

He looks down at Caroline and offers her a small smile. The one she gives him in return is one he recognizes from his reflection in the mirror. 

They don’t have to say a word. 

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @micaiahmoonheart @ogmilkis @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @joemazzello-imagines @pinkdiamond1016 @pan-pride-12 @lee-rin-ah @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky @bauslut @sparklingkeylimepie @aili28 @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @dontkissthewriter @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @andreasworlsboring101 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @zizzlekwum @lcvischmitt @qvid-pro-qvo @mandylove1000 @simsiddy @slickdickwitchbitch @jeor @synonymforlame @roses-and-grasses @bwbatta @capricorngf  @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @garcia-reid-lovechild @cevanswhre @joanofarkansass @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @katiejuliana @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @spencerelds @ssahotchnerr @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

[imma-potatoo]

Fuck it.

AJR songs + Sanders Sides because they're my comfort things. I'm going to listen to each song and say which side fits the song best

So.. OK ORCHESTRA

OK Overture: Thomas. All the other sides are represented by each song, and overture makes up all the songs. Especially considering all the conflicting ideas and messages in the songs that make it up. OK Orchestra also has a theme of growing up, which fits with the series

Bummerland: Remus. The song opens with someone getting 7 haircuts and the song is rather chaotic (which can be said about all their music but still). The song talks about building yourself back up and getting to a new place in life. Works well for Remus showing up randomly I think. (alternatively could also be Roman's because it talks about being a hero)

3 O'Clock Things: Logan and Janus. This is the ultimate Logan and Janus thing. It opens up with someone telling another to go to sleep because it's late and their eyes are tired, then a slightly hostile view on youtube and how they should have finished college instead pops up after, complaining about how advertisements are like narcotics. Theres also a huge sense of fear about if "[if they] would go running if [they] saw the real me" and how people's intentions are hard to tell nowadays. This song is just so Logan and Janus, I can talk about it forever (it's also the song that I most relate to-) I didn't even get passed the first minute in this one

My Play: Roman. Theatre, and also theres a strong desire to have people be proud of what they've done, they want their parents to see what they've made. Reminds me of a certain prince who wants a certain father figures approval. Also "I could start now, looking for a lover // But if love dies, do I fucking bother?"

Joe: Virgil. The song is about moving on from the past, yet still seeming to hang on. Virgil has new friends now, and his old one's don't matter to him anymore... At least that's what he says. The truth is, he still cares about them

Adventure Is Out There: Patton. Despite what you may think, this song is actually about moving on from a relationship. Which would work well for Patton I think

Bang!: Janus. This song is about putting on a face to mask what you're actually feeling, and going out with a.. Well.. Bang. It's dramatic, it's fitting, and it certainly fits the side known for pretending, dramatic entrances, and masks... Also, "Put your best face on everybody, pretend you know this song everybody"

The Trick: Janus (again). In my defense, this song is literally about lying to make yourself seem cooler and more accomplished. Even though the truth would be better, Janus always hides behind lies and deception

Ordinaryish People: Virgil. This song is mainly vibes and I don't really have a reason for it, but it's about not fitting into a box

Humpty Dumpty: Patton. "He said 'screw it', I'll just smile right through it and scream when no ones around"...... Need I say more?

World's Smallest Violin: Roman. Roman wants to show the world what he's capable of, he also desires to be a hero, and he compares himself constantly to others. He views the world in complete black and white, so the "I kinda feel like two things can't be sad" fits well. Good Roman song.

Way Less Sad: Remus. Once again, vibes.

Christmas in June: Logan. Someone who keeps missing important events to do work... I think that fits the resident brain cell

...

This was a dumb post

[glowinggator]

Quantum Mechanics - Donatello

Request: The “Hi is it ok if you could do a Leo x reader where they are teasing with each other and the reader accidentally calls Leo ‘cute’ please?” Was SO CUTE!!! Could you do with the other turtles? And the reader also getting very flustered about voicing their thoughts out aloud? Thank you!

Content Warnings: Swearing, tooth-rotting sweetness, and Donatello being the hyper-genius he is. 

Word count: 1432 words! 

“How far out are you? Will you be here soon?” Donatello talks at a mile a minute as you trot down the halls of New York’s sewers. You laugh at his excitement and pick up your pace. Donatello recently had a breakthrough in one of his design ideas, and who better to explain it to? You’re one of the only people that truly listens to him when he talks about his tech. Sure, you might not understand everything on the level that he does, but you make an effort to listen and understand. And quite frankly, that’s a lot more effort than others put in. 

You shift the phone in your hand as you start to jog across the wet cement. Your steps echo loudly through the halls of the sewer, and you praise yourself for buying non slip boots. “I promise, D, I’m moving as fast as I can. I’m maybe...two minutes out?”

“I’m timing you.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh. Your hand scrapes along the wall as you sprint around the corner, fueled by Donnie’s excitement. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to see what he had to show you. Or rather, you were excited to see him. You love the way his eyes light up as he explains to you his pride and joy of the evening. It’s an infrequent sight, to see him so ecstatic and free. So of course, you don’t mind making midnight trips to the lair to see him. You hear the faint “beep” of your phone in your ear as you round the final corner, and you smile at Donatello from across the room as you slide into the lair. His smile shines so brightly despite his hunched and tired demeanor. He flexes his hands anxiously as you sprint towards him, slowing down once you catch up to him. You take a few deep breaths before looking up at him.  “What’s my time?” you joke. 

“A minute thirty-eight.” He grins. He waves his phone in front of you before quickly pocketing it. He nods towards his lab, starting at a brisk pace. “So, do you want an explanation first? Or would you like to experience my genius?” 

You giggle, “I think I need an explanation to appreciate the true height of your accomplishment, Donatello.” Are you being a little sarcastic? Maybe. But he doesn’t need to know that. 

“You always know what to say,” he smiles. He waves his hands around as he walks, wrists bouncing back and forth happily. “So, you remember quantum, right?” 

You hum, “ Explains the behavior of matter and its interactions with energy on the smallest scale.” 

“You’re the only one who listens around here. Alright, so I finally started getting into quantum mechanics and computing, and that’s been like, my thing for the past few months. And I just made the biggest breakthrough. So, the elementary logic gates of a classical computer, other than the NOT gate, are not reversible, right?  Thus, for instance, for an AND gate one cannot always recover the two input bits from the output bit; for example, if the output bit is 0…”

He keeps talking, and you try your absolute best to keep up. Although, you do get lost somewhere along the way. You suppose you can always ask for clarification later, once his high of discovery has died down. You absorb what you can, nodding occasionally to signify that you’re listening. His eyes shine so brightly as he looks down at his hands, words flying out of his mouth at a mile a minute. The bags under his eyes seem so deep, and you wonder how much sleep he’s been getting recently. He wasn’t kidding when he said that this has been his new obsession, huh? Although the raccoon circles have always been his trademark, in a way. You’ll have to spend more time in the lair, maybe make him a proper coffee. God knows he won’t sleep: he might as well be comfortable while he works. He wouldn’t mind your company, right? 

“So this is where we get into the fun part, quantum physics. If you apply an outside force to two atoms, it can make them… it makes them entangled,” he pauses for a moment, as though flustered by his words. He blinks twice before continuing, although shakier than before, “and- and the second atom can take on the properties of the first atom. So if left alone, an atom will spin in all different directions. The very instant it is disturbed it chooses one spin, or one value; and at the same time, the second entangled atom will choose an opposite spin. This is what lets us know the value of the qubits without actually looking at them.”

Weird: why’d he slip up on that part? You make a mental note to tease him about it later. You lean against the wall and look at him. He sure has gotten tall. You flush a little bit as you gaze up at him: his features are so perfect. Defined, you correct yourself internally. Keep it under control, (Y/N).  “So,” you interject, “the state of the whole one-qubit...quantum memory...thingy can be manipulated by applying quantum logic gates, like how classical memory can be manipulated with classical logic gates, right? That’s how it works?” you summarize. You learn what you can, at least. 

He jumps, “yes, exactly!” 

“And the big issue with quantum computers is about removing...quantum decoherence? So you have to isolate the system from its environment?”

He whips around from his position facing you, instead turning to the keypad of his laboratory. After last month’s debacle, he finally decided to install an actual safeguard for his lab. He punches in the codes to his laboratory with shaky hands, “I’m so glad someone actually listens around here.” He messes up the code, and he growls quietly as he bends down to look at the keypad better. He rubs his eyes harshly after squinting at the tiny numbers, and you smile softly.

You chuckle, “So basically… you made a super fast computer? Are we gonna take over Google?”

“Oh absolutely,” the door opens with a hiss, “Pichai will be begging me for a job once we take over.”

There it is again: we. You smile, but neglect to mention the word. “Ooo,” you coo, “On a last name basis with Mr. Sundar? I think he should get his resume in early, you own him alre-” you gasp at the gargantuan structure before you, silly comment long forgotten. “Holy shit, Donatello.” 

You jump as he puts his hands on your shoulders, startled by the sudden contact. You want to look him in the eyes, to ask him how he could have built this but...your eyes remain glued to the shining structure. It glows purple in the neon lighting of the lab, and you swear this is something you could have seen in a sci-fi movie. “Right?” he mutters. Shivers run down your spine at the uncharacteristic, whispered baritone of your best friend. You feel a rush of blood surge throughout your body, making you uncomfortably hot. You thank the universe that he can’t see you blush. Why is he leaning down so close? You’re not uncomfortable with it, no, but gods above, does he know what he’s doing to you right now? 

 “...superconducting qubits. Tomorrow morning I’ll be putting it into the dilution fridge. And it’ll be done. It’s perfect, isn’t it?” You look up at him, dazed. His hands remain in their place on your shoulders: they give off no heat, presumably because of his cold blood. Yet, you find so much comfort in them. You hesitantly move one hand up to hold one in place, and he turns down to you with the brightest, purest grin. He’s not cocky: he’s proud. 

“You’re perfect.” 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck 

“I’m, wait hold on I’m mincing my words all up, hold on-” you stammer, “I just, I love how passionate you are? You’re so cute when you’re happy and wait hold on, no-”

He squeezes your shoulders, sighing quietly. You stop talking as your breath gets caught in your throat. He smiles. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.” His eyes widen as though alarmed by his own voice, and he sucks in a breath quickly: “Wait a minute-” 

You laugh, “Alright, we’re even! We can’t tease each other about this!” 

“Deal.” 

You’ll talk about this another day: perhaps when you’re both rested. Or maybe, it’ll come up again on it’s own. But for now, this is enough. 

You don’t let go of his hand. And he doesn’t pull away.

[eligos-venator]

Legacy

[Word count: 1416]

Tap, tap, tap. The clinking of the occasional tap of metal clicking to metal could be heard throughout the white-walled room. Rather than a cluttered workshop one might have come to expect from engineers, the room itself was kept in pristine condition, almost surgically so with how little it had in it beyond the occasional soft glow of the storage tanks lining the wall, each with a different purpose. In the center of the room sat an oak stool, upon which was perched a hyur-like figure clad in a black suit. Within his left claw’s grasp was a small, oblong device, the front plate of it held in place by the black claw tip of his thumb as he screwed it into place. Each time he needed a new screw, he let his arm lower and the screwdriver dangle into the open toolbox at his side, dipping it into one of the compartments so that the magnetized tip would draw the screws to it, with just a little wriggling to ensure one would manage to fit itself onto the tip of the screwdriver and thus be secure. With a tap at the side of the box to drop any extra screws that were attached as well, the right hand would withdraw the screwdriver from the container, and the man moved on to putting in that next screw.

There was no humming of machinery to be had. No hissing or groans, or the creaking of metal. All had already been manufactured, fitted, and drilled out ahead of time, with every component tested separately. All that was left was to assemble it and put it to the test. Occasionally, the slit pupils glanced up from what was a monotonous task, the gil-hued gaze fixing on the thing beside his monitor that rested to his left, and that was the only piece in this antiseptic room that gave it any sort of character.

Hued from granite and shined to a fine polish, the statue towered over the small being, ever looming as the downcast eyes peered lifelessly, even as an eternal stone snarl set the tone as claws stretched out, as if to grasp those that dared approach it. The man’s own lips would curl up in a small, slight smile as he regarded it, and how every detail save for the actual breath of life had been taken into account. It might have been made to horrify its original owner, but to him, it stood for something else. Even as he looked up at it, it sometimes seemed as though it were real, with how the soft blue light above it would shine on it and highlight the carefully-sculpted features, painstakingly crafted to capture every last minute detail. “Right. I’ll get back to it. I owe you that much.” He hummed to himself as he would avert his eyes, forcing himself back to the ever-joyless task of assembling the small device. It was just a stone block, but the thought that he might somehow be heard gave the slightest of comforts, even if he knew it achieved nothing. It served as a constant reminder of what he had to aspire to, and just having it there brought a measure of comfort, as if there was still someone whom he could aspire to make proud of his accomplishments.

As he worked, the lights started to flicker overhead. A minor irritation, to be certain, as the man let out a low, annoyed grumble. After the third time they had done so, he set the device down on the toolbox, leaving the screwdriver beside it as he rose to his feet and crossed over to the entry of the room, to check a hidden console that displayed all relevant power information for the room. Yet he didn’t make it there. Halfway across, the lights went off completely for what felt as if a mere moment, before coming back to life with a low hum. Yet as the power returned completely, a low growl could be heard, putting the small, golden-eyed individual on immediate alert as he glanced around warily, trying to find what was out of place and had just invited itself into what should have been a secure facility. Was it in one of the tanks? No, nothing there was out of place. Nothing had seemingly changed. At least, nothing that was noticed until an unfamiliar voice spoke with a deep, dark timbre.

"Hey, kid. Been a while." White flesh, smooth as marble and with that same polished sheen flexed before as the hulking gargoyle sat down on the pedestal it had stood atop up till moments prior. Baleful silver eyes that had no pupil glared at the gold ones of the counterpart. The very corners of its ragged jaw twitched upwards in the smallest of sneers as blue fire seemingly flickered within that gaze as the creature flexed its wings, then curled them around the broad shoulders as if they were a cloak. One elongated arm hung down between its legs, claw loose and open, as the other reached to rest upon its knee as the creature stared down at the far smaller being before it. "Always so hard at work. You'd move the mountains themselves if you thought it meant you'd finally get the acknowledgement you crave from those you look up to. My acknowledgement." 

The voidsent peered around the room as it settled itself in, the index claw idly tapping away on the knee upon which it rested as the man before him blinked and stared, clearly lost and taking a moment to process what had just happened. The first instinct of that man was to back away, the second was to guess this was some mere illusion, and the third was to complain about how his statue that had cost a fortune had come to life and there would be no way anyone would believe him if he asked for a refund. Torn between these three, it took the smaller one several moments before he finally managed to speak up, his voice soft as he regarded it. “Your.. acknowledgement? Wait, so you’re-”

At this, the gargoyle cut him off, the creature lifting its claw from its knee to point at him. "You can never do it. There's too much failure for you to ever hope of doing anything more than sullying my grand name. Relinquish it before you further embarrass us both.” The accusatory claw clenched into a balled fist before relaxing as the arm dropped down to join the other in hanging between the creature’s legs as it leaned forward, eyeing the smaller of the pair. Those blank eyes contained nothing but disdain for what stood before it that stained its view, seeing the lesser as just that: truly its lesser in all aspects. “You'll never achieve anything that might earn my approval, and I tire of watching you struggle. It was only ever amusing for so long."

With that said, both wings unfurled, sweeping back to send a gust that pushed the man back, forcing him to shield his eyes for a mere moment. When he was able to lower them again to see, the pedestal was empty, the creature gone. But even as he rushed to pedestal to inspect it, the lights once again fritzed out, flickering thrice before the room plunged into pitch black once more. In the dark, the voice of the creature spoke once again. “Next we speak, you’d best have claimed another throne, wearer of false mantles.”

With that, Eligos jolted back to reality, his eyes quickly opening as he jerked upright in his chair. The lights were on, the device was still in his lap, and the screwdriver had fallen into the container of screws, which were all wrapped around it and clinging, courtesy of the magnet it contained. With a slow glance upwards, those yellow eyes were once again greeted by gray stone as the statue stared back, the same as it always had. With an annoyed sigh, the figure slowly reached down to pick up the screwdriver, tapping it particularly aggressively against the side of the container to dislodge any extra screws as he picked the device up off his lap and returned to work. It had only been a dream. Just a dream, and nothing more.

And yet upon that stand, that perch which the demon in the dream had sat, a thin layer of ash rested where it hadn’t been before, darkening the stone.