#(<- guy who's face was red the entire sketching process) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

felassan · 4 years ago

Text

Dragon Age development insights and highlights from Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development

Some really tasty factoids here.

Cut for length.

Dragon Age: Origins

The continent of Thedas was at one point going to be named Pelledia, a name initially floated by James Ohlen

“Qunari” was a temporary name that ended up unintentionally sticking, much like “Thedas”

Mary Kirby wrote the Landsmeet. To this day, nobody understands how it works, except possibly her. If she’s “really really drunk” she can explain how it works. There’s as many words in it as Sten’s entire conversations put together

Concept art for Thedosian art - as in in-world art - draws heavily on Renaissance-era portraiture, the Art Nouveau movement, religious styles and media like stained glass, and favorite pieces from the golden age of illustrations in the early 20th century

Andrastianism in-world (art-wise) is depicted in wildly different methods depending on who in-world made the art in question. “One religion, 3 different lenses”. There’s the Chantry take, the Orlesian take and the Fereldan take; each with its own different interpretations, different mediums and different stories

The stained glass images were drawn by Nick Thornborrow for DAI, to decorate religious spaces in that game “and beyond”

irl Viking art influenced Ferelden

Greek and Italian art influenced Orlais

The book also had other insights into and anecdotes from the development of DAO, but I’ve transcribed them recently as they’re essentially the stories DG has recently been relating on the awesome Summerfall Studios DAO playthrough Twitch streams. (On those streams he provides dev commentary while Liam Esler plays through DA. The ones with DG are currently once every two weeks. Check them out! Here’s a calendar where you can check when the next one is) Instead of repeating myself I’ll just provide the link to the first transcript. From there you can navigate to the subsequent parts. Note these streams are ongoing. At this point I will also point you to a related post which is cliff notes of the Dragon Age chapter in Jason Schreier’s book Blood Sweat and Pixels.

Dragon Age II

DAO had the longest development period in BioWare history. In contrast DA2 had the shortest

Initially DA2 was going to be an expansion to DAO. A few months in EA said “Yeah, expansions like these don’t sell very well, so let’s make it a sequel.” So it suddenly became DA2 and they had to make it even bigger, although they still only had 1.5 years of time in which to do this

Production of DA2 officially lasted only 9 months, and at the time the team was still supporting live content for DAO! They finished development that January after the design team crunched all the way through the holiday period that year. Then it went to cert 9 times

The limited time they had is why the story takes place mostly in and around 1 city, and over 7 years (so it was temporal, rather than over physical distance, because a more expansive world would have taken more irl time to make)

They had no time to review even the main plot. Mike Laidlaw pitched the idea of 3 stories taking place at different points in the PC’s life, tied together by Varric’s recollections of events. DG rolled with this and made 1 presentation on the idea. This presentation was then approved and off they went

As they were writing DG realized that there was going to be no oversight and that everything was going to be a ‘first draft’. “Because nobody had time.” He sat down with the writers and said “Look, here’s the conditions we’re working under. A lot of what we’re putting out is gonna be raw. We’re not going to get the editing we need. We’re not going to get the kind of iteration we need. So I’m going to trust you all to do your best work.”

Looking back, DG has mixed feelings on DA2. “A lot of corners were cut. The public perception was that it was smaller than DAO. That’s a sin on its own.”

Despite this he thinks DA2 has some of the best writing in the series, especially character-wise. The DA2 chars are his favorite

The pace with which production progressed may in some ways have helped. “When we do a lot of revision, we often file away [as in buff off] some of the good writing as well. Somehow DA2′s whirlwind process resulted in some really good writing”

The pace meant chars landed on the writers in various stages of completion. For example Isabela was fairly defined due to appearing in DAO. In contrast Varric at the start was just that single piece of widely-shown concept art

Varric was conceived as a storyteller not a fighter. His skills are talking and bullshitting. Hence the question became, so what does this guy do in combat? The direction was to make him as different as possible to Oghren, so not a warrior. He couldn’t be a dual-wielding rogue in order to differentiate him from Bela. But you can’t really picture this guy with a bow. “For a dwarf, it would probably be a crossbow. We didn’t have crossbows, or we only had crossbows for the darkspawn. And they were part of the models. We didn’t have a separate crossbow that was equip-able by the chars. They had to like, crop one off a darkspawn and remodel it. And that became Bianca” (quote: Mary Kirby)

“Dwarven mages are exceedingly rare.” [???]

If DAO was a classic fantasy painting, DA2 was a screenshot from a Kurosawa film or a northern Renaissance painting. (Here Matt Rhodes was commenting on art style)

John Epler: “In any one of our games, there’s a 95% chance that if you turn the camera away from what it’s looking at, you’ll see all kinds of janky stuff. The moment we know the camera is no longer facing someone, we no longer care what happens to them. We will teleport people around. We will jump people around. We will literally have someone walk off screen and then we will shift them 1000 meters down, because we’re fixing some bug.” John also talked about this camera stuff in a recent charity Twitch stream for Gamers For Groceries. There’s a writeup of that stream here

Designing Kirkwall pushed concept artists to the limits of visual storytelling, because it has a long history that they wanted to be present. It was once the hub of Tevinter’s slave empire, so it needed to look brutal and harsh, but it also then needed to feel reclaimed, evolved, and with elements of contemporary Free Marches culture

The initial plan was for DA titles to be distinguished by subtitles not numbers, so that each experience could stand on its own rather than feel like a sequel or continuation. (My note: New PCs in each entry make sense then when you consider this and other factoids we know like how DA is the story of the world not of any one PC). Later, DA2′s name was made DA2 in a bid to more clearly connect the game to its predecessor. For DAI they returned to the original naming convention. (My note: so I’d reckon they’d be continuing the subtitle naming convention for DA4)

DA2 was initially code-named “Nug Storm”, strictly internally

The Cancelled DA2 Expansion - Exalted March

This was a precursor to DAI

It was meant to bridge the gap between DA2 and DAI

It focused on the fallout from Kirkwall’s explosion, with Cory serving as the villain

Meredith’s red lyrium statue was basically going to infest Kirkwall and it would end up [with what would end up] the red templars taking over Kirkwall and essentially being Cory’s army

To stop him Hawke would have recruited various factions, including Bela’s Felicisima Armada and the Qunari at Estwatch, forcing Hawke to split loyalties and risk relationships in the process

It was meant to bring DA2′s story to an end and end in Varric’s death. DG was very happy with this because all of DA2 is Varric’s tale. The expansion was supposed to start at the moment Cassandra��s interrogation of him ended in the present. “And we finished off the story with Varric having this heroic death.” It tied things up and would have broken many fan hearts, something BioWare writers notoriously enjoy. But between a transition to the new Frostbite engine and the scope of DAI, the decision was made to cancel EM, work any hard-to-lose concepts into DAI, and in the process save Varric’s life. DG has talked about the Varric dying thing before

Concept art for EM explored new areas previously not depicted in the DA universe, with costumes that reflected next steps for familiar chars. Varric was going to war, what would he have worn? With Anders, if he survived DA2, the plan was to present a redeemed Warden

A char that vaguely resembled Sera in DAI was first concepted for EM. This fact was mentioned near this concept art (see the female elf) and this concept art of Bethany with the blond bob

The writers sketched out plans to end it with Hawke having the option to marry their LI. This included alternate ceremonies for party members like Bethany and Sebastian if the player opted not to wed. There was even a wedding dress made for Hawke. This asset made it into DAI (Sera and Cullen’s weddings in Trespasser). The dress can also be seen in DAI during an ambient NPC wedding after completing a chain of war table missions

The destruction of a Chantry was explored in concept art as it might have happened in EM. This idea ended up carrying over to the beginning of DAI. (My note: Lol, the idea that DA2 could have had 2 Chantries being destroyed in it 😆)

World of Thedas

Sheryl Chee and Mary Kirby started with “a disgusting little dish called fluffy mackerel pudding”. In the middle of DAO’s busy dev period one of them (they can’t remember who) found a recipe online for this, scanned in from a 70s cookbook. “I don’t understand why it was fluffy. Why would you want fluffy mackerel pudding?” MK says. “We loved it so much we included it in a DAO codex.”

This led them to create more food for Thedas, full recipes included, like a Fereldan turnip and barley stew from MK and SC’s Starkhaven fish and egg pie. The fish pie became Sebastian’s favorite. “To me it made sense for it to be fish pie because a lot of the Free Marches are on the coast”, SC says, “It was something that was popular in medieval times, so I thought, let’s make a fish pie! I looked at medieval recipes and I concocted a fish pie which I fed to my partner, and he was like ‘This is not terrible’”

For WoT the whole studio was asked to contribute family recipes which might have a place in Thedas. SC adapted these to fit in one Thedosian culture or another, including a beloved banana bread that localization producer Melanie Fleming would regularly bake to keep the DA team motivated. “Melanie’s banana bread got us through Inquisition”

DAI

It says part of DAI takes place in or near the border with Nevarra [???]

This game was aimed to be bigger than DA2 and even DAO in every conceivable way

The first hour had to do a lot of heavy lifting, tying together the events of DAO and DA2 while introducing a new PC, new followers etc in the aftermath of the big attack. DG rewrote it 7 times then Lukas Kristjanson did 2 more passes

DG: “Our problem is always that our endings are so important, but we leave them to last, when we have no time. I kept pushing on DAI: ‘Can we work on the ending now? Can we work on the ending now? Can we do it early on?’ Because I knew exactly what it was going to be. But despite the fact that it kept getting scheduled, whenever the schedule started falling behind, it kept getting pushed back... so, of course, it got left til last again.”

“The reveal of the story’s real antagonist, Solas, a follower until the end, when he betrayed the player”. “Solas’ story remains a main thread in Inquisition’s long-awaited follow-up” [these aren’t DG quotes, just bits of general text]

Over the course of development they had 8 full-time writers and 4 editors working on it. Other writers joined later to help wrangle what ended up being close to 1 million words of dialogue and unspoken text. While many teams moved to a more open concept style of work for DAI, the writers remained tucked away in their own room, a choice DG says was necessary, given how much they talked. All the talking had a purpose ofc as if someone hit a bump or wall in their writing they would open the problem up to the room

As writing on a project like DAI progresses, the writers grow punchier and weirder things make it into the game. This is especially the case towards the end of a project (they get tired, burned out)

Banter and codexes require less ‘buy-in’ (DG has talked about this concept a few times on the Twitch streams) from other designers. DG liked to leave banter for last as a reward because it was fun. Banter begins as lists of topics for 2 followers to discuss. These may progress over time or be one off exchanges. One banter script can balloon to well over 10k words. “The banter was always huge because we were always like, laughing, and really at that point, our fields of fucks were rather barren, so we would just do whatever”

The bog unicorn happened pretty much by accident. It was designed by Matt Rhodes and was one of his fav things to design. They needed horse variations and he had already designed an undead variant which was a bog mummy [bog body]. irl these are preserved in a much different way to traditional mummies. When someone dies in a bog their skin turns black and raisin-like. The examples we know of tend to have bright red hair for whatever reason. It’s a very striking look and MR wanted to do a horse version of this as he thought it’d be neat. 5 mins before the review meeting for it he had a big ‘Aha!’ moment, quickly looked up a rusty old Viking sword, and photoshopped it through its skull like that was how it died. “And I was like, ‘I just made a unicorn. Alright, in it goes!’” It got approved. “So we built the thing. It fit. It told a little story”

With the irl Inquisition longsword, one of the objects they tested its cleaving ability on was a plush version of Leliana’s nug Schmooples

The concept art team explored a wide variety of visuals for the Inquisitor’s signature mark. It needed to look powerful and raw but couldn’t look like a horrific wound. In some cases, as cool as the idea looked on paper, they just weren’t technically feasible, especially as they had to be able to fit on any number of different bodies

Bug report: “Endlessly spawning mounts! At one point during development, Inquisitors could summon a new horse every time they whistled, allowing them to amass a near infinite number of eager steeds that faithfully followed them across Thedas. “You could go charging across levels and they’d all gallop behind you,” Jen Cheverie says, “It was beautiful.” Trotting into town became an epic horse siege as a tidal wave of mounts enveloped the streets. Jen called it her Army of Ponies”

The giants came from DA Week, an internal period when devs can pursue different individual creative projects that in some way benefit DA. They also had a board game from one of these that they were going to put in but they didn’t have time. It’s referenced though. It was dwarven chess

Josie’s outfit is made of gold silk and patterned velvet, with leather at her waist. She carries “an ornate ledger” and she has “an ornamented collar sitting around her neck, finished by a brilliant red ruby, like a drop of Antivan wine in a sunbeam”

Iron Bull’s armor is leather. His loose pantaloons and leather boots give him agility to charge

On DAI in particular, concept artists took special care to make sure costumes would be realistic, at least in a practical ‘this obeys the laws of physics and textiles’ sense. “While on Inquisition, we thought about cosplay from a concept art perspective. Given how incredible a lot of [cosplays] are, I now am not worried about them. In fact in some cases in the future I want to throw them curveballs like, ‘All right, you clever bastards. Let’s see if you can do this!’”

2 geese that nested on the office building and had chicks were named Ganders and Arishonk (it wasn’t known who was the mom or the dad). Other possible names were Carver Honke, Bethany Honke, Urdnot Pecks, Quackwall, Cassandra Pentagoose, the Iron Bill, Shepbird, Garroose, Admiral Quackett, Scout Honking, HChick-47 and Darth Malgoose

Bug report: “The surprising adventures of Ser Noodles!” DAI was the first time the series had a mount feature, meaning this had a lot of bugs. A lot of the teams’ favorite bugs were to do with the mounts. There was a period of time where the Inquisitor’s horse seemed to lose all bone and muscle in its legs. They had a week or so where all quadruped legs were broken. It was a bit noticeable in things like nugs and other small beasties but the horse was insanely obvious. “The first time we summoned the horse [for this] and started running around, the entire QA exploration room just exploded with laughter.” Its legs flapped around like cooked fettucine, leading testers to lovingly nickname it Ser Noodles. At galloping speeds the legs almost looked like helicopter blades, especially when footage was set to classic pieces such as Wagner’s Flight of the Valkyries

For DAI the artists were asked questions like “What would Morrigan wear to a formal ball? Can Cassandra pull off a jaunty hat?”

On DAI storyboarding became the norm. John Epler: “Cinematic design for the longest time was the Wild West. It was ‘here’s a bunch of content, now do it however you want’, which resulted in some successes and some failures.” Storyboarding gave designers a consistent visual blueprint based on ideas from designers, writers and concept artists

Quote from a storyboard by Nick Thornborrow (the Inquisitor going into the party at the end of basegame sequence): “Until Corypheus revealed himself they could not see the single hand behind the chaos. A magister and a darkspawn combined. The ultimate evil. So evil. Eviler than puppy-killers and egg farts combined.”

A general note on concept art:

In the early stages of any project, before the concept artists are aware of any writing, they like to just draw what they think cool story moments could be. It’s not unusual for the team to then be inspired by these and fold them into the game as the project progresses

– From Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development

3K notes · View notes

chasingpj · 4 years ago

Text

𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐦𝐞?

"My soulmate is so mean. He’s done nothing good with these stupid drawings. You know, all I want is something cute, like a picture of, maybe, flowers?"

pairing: leo valdez x gn reader

words: 2,994

warnings: cursing, mentions of genitalia

category: one-shot, soulmate!au

You don’t know who your soulmate is, but when you find out, you know the first thing you’ll do is punch him in his face. You don’t understand why he does this. Why can’t he be romantic like everyone else? You have a few friends who have the same connection you share with your soulmate, through your skin. Your friends rise from their slumbers with beautiful sketches on their arms; Or throughout the day, lines will appear as they’re being drawn, creating the most beautiful artwork you’ve ever seen. However, of course, you don’t get that; instead, you get this.

You stare at yourself in the mirror with pure disbelief, and you can’t decide whether to cry or scream. You’re used to these kinds of drawings in places like your arms, stomach, and legs, so they were easy to hide. But this has never happened before; it's never been in a place so… so visible.

You fill with rage as you observe the sloppily drawn dick on your forehead and your fist clenches as it lays on top of your bathroom sink. You fucking ass. How the hell am I going to hide this? You have to be at work in fifteen minutes, and you have this vulgar drawing on your forehead. You’re sure if you tell your boss your situation, he’d probably dismiss you because this is obviously not appropriate for the workplace. Still, you can’t even imagine trying to explain this to him. It was way too embarrassing.

"What am I going to do?” You whine as you rub your hands on your face. The drawing won’t be removed from your skin unless your soulmate removes it on his, so you had to think of a solution right away.

“Where could he possibly be where this is acceptable?” You try to refrain from sobbing hopelessly as your frantic mind searches for a solution. You think maybe a hat will work, but you discard the idea knowing your boss will tell you to take it off once you’re indoors. Suddenly, like a sign from the heavens, your solution hits you right in the face when you catch sight of your makeup bag lying on the toilet seat. You reach over, grabbing the pouch and unzipping it. Your quivering hands move too fast, causing the products to fall out and scatter into the sink. Your eyes skim over them in search of your thickest foundation and concealer. When you find them, along with your primer, you sigh, saying a silent prayer before getting to work.

***

Leo gasps sharply as the sight of his face in the mirror shocks him out of his fatigue. He touches his forehead, trying to recall the memory of last night while ignoring the pounding headache surging through his skull. He remembers getting to the club with a group of friends and how they took one shot after another until their vision was blurry. He has a faint memory of dancing with some girl, and the chaos of his 4 am Macdonald’s run with his friends. However, he doesn't recall the moment when this picture was drawn on his face. When did this happen? More importantly, who did this? He pauses, gawking at his reflection. His jaw clenches as the culprit comes to mind. He felt foolish for questioning who did this because he lives with, and he went home with one person last night, and that's Percy.

“Percy!” He yells angrily, and in the next room, he hears Percy’s manic laughter getting louder as he runs down the hall and into the bathroom with him. Percy can’t help but laugh even harder at the sight of a distressed Leo, and he silently congratulates himself for pulling such a successful prank. Leo’s expression hardens, and his gaze snaps over to him, “It's not funny!”

Percy snorts and nudges his shoulder, "Come on, loosen up!" Leo laughs sarcastically,

"Come on, loosen up!" He mocks with clear annoyance, making Percy’s laughter ceases. Leo usually takes things like this so well; he's never been angry at him because of a childish prank. The two of them have been pulling pranks on each other since they moved in together, and they would always laugh it out while deviously planning their revenge. Percy tilts his head, now growing annoyed that Leo’s annoyed.

"Why are you so uptight today?" He almost snaps, not understanding his fury. Leo's eyes narrow at him,

"My soulmate is linked to my skin." He speaks slowly and carefully, accentuating his words to make sure Percy understands how bad this is. Percy's mouth drops open, and he stares at the vulgar art on his forehead.

"Oh… shit," is the only thing he can think of saying. “Fuck, I forgot. I’m sorry,” Percy apologizes even though he knows it doesn’t help anything. He didn’t share the same connection with his soulmate, so he had forgotten entirely about Leo’s bond with his. He’s now left with regret knowing that there's someone out there going along their day trying to hide this lewd image.

Leo groans as he throws his head back. "I-It'll wash off? Right?"

Leo flips up the sink’s nozzle, dipping his head in the cold tap water to wet his face. He scrubs with his fingers, blindly grasping the soap next to him. He runs it over, spreading the suds and lightly scratching his forehead. He rinses everything off and returns to his original position to check his face now. He yells in panic when he sees the drawing didn't budge at all; it didn't even fade. Percy audibly gasps,

"I used permanent marker."

"BRO!"

"I'm sorry!"

Percy shifts on his feet as the memory of last night comes back to him. Leo fell asleep in the cab ride home, and Percy, somehow without much balance, carried him over his shoulder into their apartment complex. He squints his eyes, and with a vague remembrance, he recalls plopping him down on the couch. Leo was unconscious, and Percy’s drunk mind saw this as a perfect opportunity to prank him. He picked the first marker he saw, and in the middle of a giggling fit, he sloppily drew the phallic item and took a picture.

Leo frantically puts his head back in the sink to scrub again, and Percy stands by the door, watching panic wash over him. Leo continues scrubbing his skin, and though his skin becomes red under the friction of his nails, he persists. Percy shakes his head, walking over to him quickly, and he pats his shoulder.

"Come on, man. It's not working; you’re gonna hurt yourself." If Percy let him, Leo would scrub his skin raw. He disregards his advice and continues to scrub, bringing the soap over the drawing once again before scratching harshly. Percy, not wanting his friend to hurt himself, turns off the tap, and Leo groans, standing straight. He stares at himself in the mirror, his face dripping wet, and his skin is red with irritation. I'm so sorry.

***

Your day hasn't gotten any better since this morning. First, you wake with a dick on your forehead; second, you miss your bus because you took so much time layering makeup on your face. Then, you get to work about 15 minutes late because your commute, which usually took about 5 minutes, was delayed due to traffic. You assumed that your day couldn’t get any worse, but you discovered you spoke too soon when the system your job uses to put in orders crashed, making your job even harder than it had to be. Also, you spilled hot coffee on yourself during the morning rush, and that almost sent you straight into tears, but somehow, you prevailed.

By the afternoon, you wanted to rip your hair out when you realized you forgot your wallet, leaving you unfed and cranky. Your boss was no help to your mood either. He picked at everything you did today and held a grudge about you being late this morning. You've never had such a shitty day at work, and there is a sense of relief when you witnessed the clock turn to 4:30 pm. You immediately stood up from your chair, collecting your things before walking straight to the computer to clock out.

The last challenge you're facing is to get home in the slippery aftermath of the pouring rain earlier today. It was colder than usual; the sun’s hidden behind stormy gray clouds, and the smell of wet soil is in the air. You shiver, your arms wrapped around your frame in a poor attempt to keep you warm. You don't have an umbrella, and you hope it doesn’t start raining again. You were sure that if your makeup washes away in the rain for everyone to see the mystery under it, you will lose your mind.

You stand in the corner of the waiting shed, resting your head on the side. You take a deep breath, noticing your hands are anxiously chipping away the week-old nail polish. From the corner of your eye, you see someone join you under the shed, and out of usual curiosity, you look over. A tall, slender guy stands in the opposite corner; he wears distressed blue jeans, a black hoodie with a print you can’t see from your view, and a black winter hat. In his hands, he fiddles with a piece of scrap metal. His skin was tan, and his brown curly hair peeks from under his hat. Oblivious to your staring, he looks away from his fiddling and happens to glance over at you. There's a moment of awkward eye contact before you snap your vision away and out to the street.

You cringe at yourself for staring too long, shifting on your feet. You casually lean over the side of the curve, and you swear the light of the heavens was shining on your bus as it drove toward you. You couldn’t help but smile, a sense of relief washing over you. It’s here; you were one step closer to getting home and relaxing.

The excitement was taken away as quickly as it arrived, your bus passing your stop making a mini tsunami in the process. A wave of water splashes directly on you, and it takes you a moment to process what just happened. You stand there, cold and wet staring blankly at the curve. You felt overwhelmed, not being able to hold back the cries that you’ve been suppressing all day.

"are you-" a sob releases from your lips, stunning the unknown guy next to you. You miserably walk over to the bench, plopping down and resting your elbows on your thighs to lay your head in your hands. You sob freely, not caring about the boy's presence, and he stands in his spot, not sure what to do. He had an innate urge to make you feel better, and he doesn't know why but it pains him to see you like this. He clears his throat and decides to settle in the seat next to you. "Bad day?"

You sniffle, trying to find your breath, "The worst."

You don't look up, your hands doing their part to cover your face and your forehead. "I don't understand why everything is going so wrong.” You didn’t even care that you were pitying yourself, but you felt like you had the right considering how shit your day has been.

"I woke up with an awful drawing from my soulmate. I was late for my bus, which made me late to work; I haven't had lunch either. I'm hungry, cold, and now, soaking wet in street water." You sniffle once more. "My soulmate is so mean. He’s done nothing good with these stupid drawings. You know, all I want is something cute, like a picture of, maybe, flowers? I'd even take a tacky picture of two stick figures falling in love... shit; I’d be satisfied with a grocery list. But of course, with my luck, that doesn't happen. I get stupid drawings of... genitalia."

Leo’s body tenses next to you, and his teeth bite the inside of his lip. Drawings of genitalia? Sounds like him. Now he needed to see this drawing you were talking about, and he feels himself getting anxious at the possibility that you could be his soulmate. You continue to cry, refusing to move from your position.

"Well... it can't be that bad?"

"Oh, it's bad,” you managed to respond in your ragged breathing. Leo hesitantly reaches over, affectionately rubbing his hand across your upper back. Your breath hitches softly at the back of your throat, and there is a surge of warmth that radiates from his hand. You feel your tense shoulders begin to relax, and you furrow your eyebrows as your breath miraculously finds its regular pace. You even have this strange desire to cuddle into his frame to acquire more of his touch.

"Come on, show me. It's probably not as bad as you think." He speaks from his experience this morning. If you aren't his soulmate, he's sure that whatever you have isn't as traumatic as what he and his soulmate have.

"No! You'll laugh," you whine, your head laying firmly on your hands.

"I won't! I promise." You can tell from his voice that he was genuine, and for some reason, you can trust him. You slowly remove your hands from your face, but your head is still in an embarrassed bow. His heart pounds in his chest at the anticipation and leans forward to get a look at your face. You close your eyes, not wanting to see his initial reaction.

There it was. Right under your concealer, there is the familiar drawing faintly present. Leo's mouth drops, and his eyes widen; how is he going to tell you that he has the same picture on his forehead? You sigh shakily,

"It's bad, isn't it?" Your face burns in pure humiliation, and you now regret showing him. Leo is silent for a bit, trying to find words to explain himself.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes flutter open to look at his guilty expression.

"Why are you sorry?" He doesn't even attempt to explain himself in words. He simply slides off his winter hat, showing you the original drawing on his skin. You inhale sharply, your mind trying to process what is happening in front of you.

He's your soulmate, the person that you ideally would spend your life with. You didn't think you'd find him anytime soon or even at all. Your stomach flutters at the sight of him, and your cheeks get warm. You both gaze into each other’s eyes, and there was an immediate connection. You take in the tousled curls on his head, a bit frizzy from his hat and his big brown eyes. Your heart pumps hard in your chest, just as fast as the boy’s heart in front of you.

A few people told you that you’d feel like the world will slow down when you meet your soulmate. You’ll feel complete, and all at once, you’ll fall in love. You thought it was a load of over-romanticized bull, but you found that it was true even with your strange circumstance.

You finally found him…

But he's done this.

Your anger somehow counteracts this "in love" feeling, and you momentarily hate him for starting your day off on a sour note.

"You!" Your arms lift to strike him in the chest, but before you could attack, he grasps your tight fists.

"I'm sorry! I can explain!" He says quickly. Your arms loosen up, and you narrow your eyes at him,

"Explain yourself then." Sheepishly Leo cowers and his hands remain around your fist, just in case.

"Well," he sighs, "I partied a little too hard last night, and um, my roommate, Percy, thought it would be funny to draw this on my forehead."

"Your roommate is an ass."

"Well, yeah. Sometimes. But he was just as drunk as I was, and he didn't realize that the marker was permanent. When I saw it, I immediately thought of you, and how you’d have to walk around with this." He chews on the inside of his cheek, "I tried getting it off, but it won’t go away." You sigh, willing to forgive him since it wasn't his fault.

"So, we're gonna have this for a while?"

"Probably a couple of days or so." You groan and don’t say anything in return. You look down at your lap, still hiding your face from anyone around. "Oh, here, take my sweatshirt. The hoodie can keep it hidden.” He puts his hat back on and pulls his sweatshirt over his body, passing it to you. You smile softly as you take it from him. You pull it over your still soaked and cold frame, slipping your arms in and bringing the hood up. You mutter a small thank you, shoving your hands in the front pocket. He replies with a hum, allowing the sounds of the passing cars to fill your comfortable silence.

"Again, I'm sorry,” he apologizes sincerely, and you turn your head. You smile reassuringly,

"It's okay. I'll forgive you this time,” you say teasingly, and he chuckles. "I'm y/n, by the way."

"Leo." You reach over, taking his hand, and you guys share a handshake.

"Nice to meet you, soulmate.”

masterlists

#leo valdez x you #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez fanfic #leo valdez imagine #leo valdez one shot #heroes of olympus fanfic #heroes of olympus #my writing

705 notes · View notes

liquid-luck-00 · 4 years ago

Text

My Life is One Complication After Another 2

Some cursing 🤬

Ao3 *** Previous *** Next

~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay so where were we?" she smiled turning and sitting back down with Fang.

"As Damian had asked are you in reality my biological child," Bruce took back control automatically.

"You can't be serious Brucie!" Jagged went and began to squish Mari's face. "This little ray of sunshine related to your broody majesty. I don't buy it."

"I am not broody Jared." Bruce defended.

"I'll believe that when Ladybug dates Chat Noir." he joked.

"So it is possible" Bruce responded with a straight face.

Now it was Mari's turn to laugh, "Not a chance. Ladybug and Chat Noir dating is as possible as Atlantis resurfacing." she finally stopped laughing. The Wayne's tensed as if they knew more than others about Atlantis. "I honestly don't know if I am your child. I have no objections to taking a paternity test if you want, but I already have parents who love and support me, but I am not opposed to adding to my family though." she again smiled like the sunshine she is.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng What the Hell!?!" Chloe screamed storming into the room.

"What did I do!"

"How are you trending and you never told me" she gave a mock gasp.

However it was not the same for Mari. "I'm what." She opened her phone and sure enough she was trending. "How did this happen?"

She went into the first article she could and backtracked, through the sources and timestamps. Then it all made sense. She was on the Ladyblog, an interview with Lila claiming she was friends with a Wayne. The media then believing her a lost Wayne which explains why she is sitting with the Waynes and them asking about her paternity.

"How did you not know. M."

"All my accounts are private and I've been busy. But this explains the reporters now huh."

"M you are ridiculous, utterly ridiculous" Chloe grumbled. She was now sitting on the armrest Mari was leaning against next to Jagged. "At least tell me you remembered to send the photos and interview." Mari sprung up, Fang having sensed the impending jump. "logged into my laptop" Chloe yelled throwing her key to Mari.

"Meet you at the hospital. 20 minutes. bye" she yelled as she ran down the hall taking the stairs faster.

Chloe and Penny got up followed by Jagged heading to the door.

"Whatcha wait'n for Brucie come on" Jagged called to the billionaire.

Slowly the Waynes stood and followed the others to the hospital, sharing looks and texts the entire time.

True to her word Marinette met with them 20 minutes later on the dot in the hospital.

Both Marinette and Bruce had a blood sample and a mouth swab taken. The doctor then came back an hour later with the results.

"Alright. By the genetic markers that were tested. I can say quite confidently that M. Wayne is the biological father of Mlle. Dupain-Cheng." The doctor handed them a folder. "I'II leave you to process."

Marinette didn't need long to process. In fact her only thought was, Well one more for the list. Everyone in the room was watching her. "Okay" she jumped down from the bench, crap. Forgot about that. Her smile never faltered but her eyes were closed a second too long.

In that second Chloe had taken her purse and was holding up a pair of athletic gloves. “Care to explain!” She held the gloves waving them towards Marinette.

"Um, Well, You see" Marinette started to mumble.

"Why don't you explain in the car" Penny came to her rescue.

"We'll get Pizza and have a Rock' n time" Jagged lightened the mood.

Everyone nodded, walking out Mari kept her hands in her pocket. She was putting on her second pair of gloves, Tikki in her hood, she needed to think and running always helped. Mari was only a few yards away when Chloe noticed, Mari spun to face her when she heard her.

"Red!" Chloe yelled. She noticed how two boys froze, Jason and Tim if she is correct.

"Goldie!" she responded, not missing a beat. She heard Chloe behind her.

"Cat." Penny stated.

"Bird." responded Jagged further confusing the Waynes as they neared the hotel.

Tim was the first who noticed the two girls in front of the hotel. Meaning he was on his phone mapping and timing the route.

"Pizza will be delivered in 10." Mari spoke as the other seven stepped out of the car.

The two girls went ahead of them, but instead of the elevator they took the stairs.

Half way through the second of three pizza did Tim finally speak. "How did you two get back so fast." Tim set down his Pizza as he began to gesture frantically. "There is no way for you guys to have beat as it is a fifteen minute drive and a 30 minute walk, 20 if you run. Wait how did you get there in 20 minutes with a detour." Tim surprisingly still had breath.

"The fastest way from point A to B is not through C." Was Marinette's response as she took a bite. Yet that didn't seem like a sufficient answer as her now brother's eyebrows were still knit in confusion, so she took a breath and said. "Free running, it's a great stress reliever." she finished.

"What did you hit this time?" Jagged gave her a semi serious look.

"I didn't hit anything," a pout on her lips. "The pigeon flew into me."

Dick started laughing "she is definitely yours B, I can say for sure even without that paternity test." Another two hours had passed before she noticed the time and bid everyone goodbye. She gave her number to her father and brothers, Damian begrudgingly because Dick put it in and gave it to Mari.

Her parents had closed early for a date so she was home alone. She went to the couch to sketch a few gift ideas for her newly extended family. She was finishing a semi formal coat with a hidden sling for a katana for Damian. He kept grumbling that if he had it, the way the sword appeared in his akuma form, and she is pretty sure Jason's jokes were more literal by everyone's expressions. When her parents came home.

"Bon soir Maman, Papa," she cheerily greeted them.

"How was your day sweetheart." her Papa smiled kissing the top of her head.

"I met a handful of interesting people." she really didn't know how to broach this subject.

"What's wrong sweetie," her mother must have noticed her be uncomfortable. She sat down next to Mari, and her papa sat across from them.

"Did someone or did these people hurt you." her papa's words began to ring with a hard edge.

"Non, nothing like that. It's just, um," bitting her lip then looking up. "Your not my biological father, are you?"

Her parents froze, and had a silent conversation.

"Marinette, your biological father is an important and busy man. Who has no time for children." Her Maman spoke gently and calmly. "His name is Bruce Wayne."

Okay hold up, she tilted her head empathizing her confusion. "He didn't seem to bad, in fact he has four boys."

"That was who you met today," her papa affirmed, seemingly surprised.

She nodded her head and told them what had occurred today, leaving out the akuma and her free running. When she finished her parents once again held a silent conversation.

"Why don't we invite him over tomorrow for lunch. While you show his boys around." her maman smiled.

"Okay I'll send them a message then." Mari smiled taking out her phone.

Tomorrow will be interesting.

But first she had to survive tonight.

Tonight Ladybug, Todd Tenko, and Emeraude Racer were on patrol. Meaning she had the evening with the Couffaine siblings. Since both were holders it wasn't uncommon for them to swap. Meaning Luka would either be Todd or Viperion, and Juleka could be either Racer or Kitsune.

They each knew what was their designated route, and because of the akuma sent earlier the chance of Hawkmoth striking again was less likely. Each one of the heroes went their separate ways and made their rounds. So when the three heroes went to their rendezvous at Notre Dame's bell tower it ways almost two hour later. However, she noticed she had a tail when she passed the Eiffel tower. So she called Todd and Racer to set an illusion and ambush at the bell tower.

When she stepped on the bell towers stopped in the center and so did her tail with four others, forming a 'v" behind her. Todd's illusion left a Ladybug in the center of the tower while she moved to an ambush point. Four figures swung in and stood at each corner, a Todd Tenko, Emeraude Racer, Honey Bee, and Chat Noir.

"Shouldn't all of you be in Gotham?" Ladybug asked for her.

That seemed to take the vigilantes in her city by surprise.

"We heard about the situation and we just want to help." Nightwing, she is pretty sure, spoke up.

Chat Noir scoffed, "huh as if we would believe that."

"Tt. believe what you want. That is the truth." Robin spoke this time. Interesting.

"Yes after being ignored and called liars for three years really builds trust." Honey Bee's hand curled on her top as she spoke.

Batman seemed like he was going say something, but she jumped down from her perch breaking the Ladybug illusion. As they watched her materialize fifty feet up, followed by Racer and Todd flanking her mere seconds later.

"Todd," her eyes never left the five in front of her as she spoke.

"What!" Red Hood jumped in surprise, "How?"

"Curious. But Todd," this time she turned. "can you drop Mirage." Her teammate nodded and the four illusions disappeared. "Do you need to recharge?"

"Already did LB", he smiled.

"Okay," she pulled out her yoyo, and a box fell out into her hands. "who wants a snack before heading back out."

"Me!" Racer rushed to the box pulling out a strawberry eclair.

It is almost a good thing she always makes eight eclairs for patrol. Seriously she makes two for those on patrol, but after Adrien always left them with one and ate four, did she start bringing more.

Before leaving to do a final sweep of patrol. The three Parisian heroes spoke with the visiting vigilantes.

"We could send them Pinky's way," Ladybug responded to Batman's ask for more information.

"Do you think that's smart?" Todd asked.

"Who is Pinky?" Red Robin stepped into the conversation.

"She is our civilian contact and reserve hero." Racer answered.

"Why isn't she a permeant hero?" Nightwing brought up the question.

"Her identity was compromised but and we aren't sure how many know. So she is kept an back up." she answered.

"Who is she and how do we contact her?" Batman demanded or asked in his case.

"She is Multimouse, her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng." All of them seemed to flinch and paled slightly. "And she'll find you."

The three Parisians stood and left.

Yup, tomorrow is going to be interesting.

Extra:

“So was I supposed to find out the Wayne’s were the Bats on my own or would you have told me?” Mari scolded her boyfriend over video call when she got home from patrol.

“I knew you were smart but less than a day you really are a lucky bug.” He smirked at her.

She crossed her arms and glared at him.

“Okay, okay.” He rose his hands in surrender. “But how did you figure it out anyways?”

“Apart from Tim and Jason flinching when Chloe called me Red, Damian’s katana grumbles and Tt., Jason freaking out because Todd was on patrol with me, and all of them paling at my name. It wasn’t to hard to piece together after that.” She shrugged.

“You know you’re scary sometimes right?” He feigned chills a goofy grin on his face.

“You love me though.” She teased him.

“I know I do but I know to keep in your good graces.” He responded now completely serious. “By the way, why was my idiot in Paris?” '

“I apparently made headlines a a lost Wayne.” She waved. “Which has more truth than the media knows apparently.”

“You’re serious!”

“Turns out your idiot is my adoptive idiot brother.”

“So are you related to Dick or Tim?”

“Try Damian.”

“To Demon Spawn! How?!”

“Bruce is my biological father.”

“The bug is a bat. Great!” he rolled his eyes, “I knew you weren’t normal but this is ridiculous.”

“You aren’t exactly normal yourself.” She replied pointedly.

“Ya but you love me.” His goofy grin was back.

“Yes I do.” She smiled in return.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @dolphin-ghost @unabashedbookworm @bookgirl14 @laurcad123 @mochegato @vixen-uchiha @jjmjjktth @deathwishy @toodaloo-kangaroo @stackofrandomstuff @megaafangirl @trippingovermyfeet @chocolatecatstheron @nathleigh @nyx-in-line @indecisive-mess-named-me @ichigorose @maribat-is-lifeblood @user00000001

#dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #miraculous x dc #maribat #batfam #bio!dad bruce #MLiOCAA #roynette

316 notes · View notes

berriusagi · 4 years ago

Text

Stomach Bug Ch10

Doctor’s Visit

Alright I am back with another chapter and with this I bring something special. I want all of you to help me decide what our lovely Mari will be having so place your votes in the poll.

LINK REMOVED

Thank you to everyone who voted I’ll be using the results gathered and I hope everyone’s happy with what the final tally was.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

“Damian’s not home right?” Tim asked, making his way into the Batcave where all the other bats sans Damian were sitting around the computer.

“No, tomorrow’s pixies first appointment with that new doctor so he decided to stay the night to give her moral support since she’s never been to a gyno before.” Jason said looking up from the files he was reading over, “honestly from what I’ve heard about what happens during those exams I don’t blame her for wanting a little support before going.”

“It’s all routine and can’t be any worse than the baby-making process.” Dick hummed typing away on the computer.

“I think that’s enough talk about that; why did you want to know Tim?” Bruce asked looking over at his second youngest.

“I found more info on Marinette thought I’d share with you all while Damian wasn’t here to stop me or compromise the data,” he explained walking over to the bat computer connecting his laptop to it.

The other men all sat silently around waiting for Tim to begin his presentation as he sorted through different encrypted files before bringing up a few pictures. “To begin her original name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng and her parents were bakers back in France, Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng,” Tim said pointing them out.

“Marinette told me they essentially kicked her out,” Bruce said crossing his arms, “They believed the words of some liar and threw her out. She lived with a friend her last year in Paris before moving here.”

“Wait, hold on,” Dick said turning to Bruce, “Her parents kicked her out when she was still a minor? Isn’t that illegal?”

“Yes, and they knew that, she mentioned that when she told her grandmother she came and took custody from her parents, who seemed more than happy to hand it over, and let her stay to finish out that school year with a friend then moved here to finish out her schooling.” Bruce nodded.

“Yeah that all tracks to what I found,” Tim nodded, showing them documents next, “I have here the transfer of custody, her transcript for moving here, as well as the adoption papers for Ivy and Harley. I also went ahead and started running some background checks on the people still in her phone.” he added typing away.

“Anyone, we should be worried about?” Jason asked leaning back in his seat content to just watching Tim work, “She told me a bit about one of her friends’ guy seemed a bit sketch when he was a Paris hero though now I think he’s meh but never got a name from her.”

“You said he was one of the heroes?” Tim asked looking over at Jason.

“Yeah, she said he gave up his miraculous after the fight because his dad was the villain and he didn’t think Ladybug would want anything to do with him if she found out who he was so he bit the bullet and gave it up. He left Paris shortly after to live with his aunt.” Jason said looking around at the others.

“If the villain were outed then it’d be easy to find out who his son was,” Tim said, turning back to the computer the clicking of keys filling the Batcave as he searched through multiple French websites. The other three just watched as screen after screen flew by before settling on a trashy tabloid-like website.

“I don’t think this is what could be considered a credible source Timmy,” Dick winced looking over all the clickbait titles and the like to dislike ratio on the articles.

“No, but it does have quite a bit on the Paris heroes,” Tim said scrolling through to articles that had more likes and seemed of better quality, “here we go, Hawkmoth Defeated: How a Recluse Held Paris Hostage.”

The four men all leaned forward reading through the article that detailed the final battle between Hawkmoth and the Paris Heroes with a written description of what happened as well as a video that seemed to have been taken from a mix of sources and spliced together. The article detailed what Hawkmoth had been doing for three years and in the end, revealed him and his accomplice to be Gabriel Agrest and his assistant Nathalie Sancoeur.

“So we know that Gabriel Agrest was the big bad so who was his kid?” Jason asked as Tim typed away.

“Adrien Agrest, teen model for the Agrest Fashion Label. Looks like after his dad got taken down he had to go through months of interrogations and court hearings just to prove his innocence. His mother was found dead in the Agrest Mansion and with no one else it looks like his aunt took him in once he was cleared.” Tim said reading through the files he dug up.

“That would mean he probably gave his miraculous to Pixie right after he was cleared. If he was going to do something sketch he’d just hold onto it.” Jason said.

“He probably was so messed up after the battle he didn’t want any connection to the miraculous I mean his father turned evil because of them.” Dick hummed crossing his arms.

The four fell silent as they took in the information they had received, “Well Tim you got anything on that liar?” Jason asked, tilting his head.

“This whole blog is about that liar.” Tim said motioning to the tabloid, “I’ll email you guys the link and read it at your own pace there is years of garbage on here.”

“Then with that, I think we should all be heading out. We'll go over more of what Tim found later for now we should get to work,” Bruce said, getting to his feet and moving to change into his costume.

The other three nodded as Tim packed up his laptop and stored it away before they all got dressed and took their way out of the cave to begin their nightly rounds.

~.~.~.~

“So what do you think they found?” Marinette asked cuddled up to Damian's side on her bed with the hyenas crowded around them on either side resting their heads over their laps, “Chloe didn’t exactly hold back on mentioning certain names.”

“I would be surprised if Drake didn’t have an entire dossier on all your friends.” Damian said rubbing Marinette’s back, “You know he probably took all your contact info right?”

“Yeah oh well,” she shrugged turning to bury her face into his neck, “They were bound to find out eventually, might as well let some of the greatest detectives around have some fun piecing my life together.”

Damian hummed closing his eyes as he relaxed back into the plush pillows covering Marinette’s bed, “Are you nervous about tomorrow?” he asked.

“A little,” she sighed tightening her grip on his shirt, “Mum told me what to expect and said she’d sit in the room with me if I wanted her to, you can’t exactly join me since we can’t have this whole thing getting out.”

“I’ll be waiting here for you when you get home don’t worry,” he said kissing her forehead, “now try to get some sleep you barely got any at the manor.”

Marinette nodded letting out a deep sigh as she shifted around to get comfortable between Damian and the hyenas. Eventually, she settled down and dozed off into a dreamless sleep with Damian rubbing her back and the familiar weight of Bud’s head on her hip.

Damian stayed up for a bit longer listening to the quiet sounds around and thinking over what to do for the next day. He eventually made his way into a dreamless sleep as well a bit after one AM when he finally managed to shut his mind off.

~.~.~.~

“Marigold are you ready?” Ivy called from the kitchen as she looked through her back to make sure she had everything.

“Almost,” Marinette said, coming out in a comfortable knit sweater and skinny jeans, “I was looking for my purse. I think Lou took it,” she said, looking around in the usual spots for her bag.

“I’ll keep your wallet and Tiki in my bag we have to get going,” Ivy said, grabbing Marinette’s wallet off the counter and stowing it in her bag as Tiki flew over and settled into the bag as well giving Ivy a nod to close the bag once she was comfortable.

Marinette nodded and went back to her room grabbing her phone quickly checking it before putting it away in her pocket and leaned down kissing Damian’s cheek as he groaned slowly blinking his eyes open. “I’m leaving I’ll text you when we’re on our way back.”

“Okay habibti call me if you need me.” he yawned reaching up and pulled her down for a kiss, “good luck with your appointment I’ll see you after.”

Marinette nodded kissing him again as Ivy shouted for Marinette that they were leaving. She gave Damian another quick peck on the lips before pulling back and ran out to meet Ivy at the door. “Had to get my phone.” she smiled stepping out of the apartment and waited as Ivy locked up and ushered down to the cab waiting outside.

“Now remember Marigold just relax and everything will go smoothly, it will be uncomfortable but it won’t hurt okay.” Ivy said, settling into the cab beside Marinette and rubbing her back, “I can sit inside the room with you if need me to.”

“I think I’ll be okay,” Marinette said, taking a few calming breaths as they made their way to the doctor’s office. Once they arrived Marinette was starting to look a little green as they went through the check-in process and filled out their info.

Waiting for her name to be called felt like an eternity and her stomach was twisting into knots as she watched other women come and go through the office. Marinette sat there twisting her fingers in her sweater and took slow deep breaths trying to calm herself when the door opened, “Marinette?” a nurse called.

Marinette shot up her face going from pale to a deep red as she made her way to the nurse. The nurse smiled and ushered her inside and went about getting her blood pressure, “Hmm little elevated but I think it could just be your nerves.” the nurse smiled, and her height and weight.

“Alright girly so here’s your room I’m going to need you to completely strip down underwear and all then put this paper gown on opening to the front and here’s a privacy blanket for your legs.” the nurse said motioning to the items on the bed, “the doctor will be in here shortly.”

Marinette nodded as the nurse closed the door leaving her alone, “It’s just a check-up.” Marinette mumbled undressing and taking her time to carefully fold her clothes and set them on the table in the corner of the room. She put on the provided gown and settled on the table keeping her phone clenched tightly in her hand as she waited for the doctor to arrive.

It felt like an eternity when there was a knock at the door and the doctor stepped in, a petite redhead with a smattering of freckles covering her pale face, “Hello Miss Marinette I’m Doctor Amelia.” she smiled coming over to shake Marinette’s hand, “I see you’re here for a wellness exam and you’re expecting.”

“Uh yes,” Marinette coughed her voice, cracking a bit from her nerves, “I uh just found out a few weeks ago.” she blushed, gripping the paper blanket covering her legs.

Doctor Amelia nodded looking over the file, “This is your first-ever wellness exam yes?” she asked, taking a seat.

Marinette nodded keeping her head bowed trying to not let her nerves take over her.

“Okay sweetie we’ll go at your pace so just relax okay.” Doctor Amelia smiled setting the file aside and grabbed her stethoscope.

~.~.~.~

The entire exam didn’t take more than five minutes before the doctor was cleaning up and stepping out to give Marinette some privacy to redress. Marinette wasted no time pulling her clothes back on and sending Damian a text saying, ‘Making this baby was less violating than that.’ before putting her phone in her pocket as there was another knock, “Miss Marinette if you're ready you can go to the front and schedule the next appointment.” Doctor Amelia said through the door.

Marinette walked over opening the door her face still a bit flushed, “Okay uh when should I come back next?” she asked.

“I think in a month should be enough time and we should be able to hear the heartbeat by then.” she smiled, “Your moms waiting for you upfront, and here’s the card to one of my nurses if you have any questions feel free to call her okay.”

“Thank you.” Marinette nodded, taking the card and quickly went to the front to meet back up with Ivy and schedule the next appointment and made their way out to walk back home.

“I think we should pick up some breakfast.” Ivy smiled putting a hand on Marinette’s shoulder as they walked. “There’s a nice little bakery around the corner should we pick up something from there?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Marinette nodded following Ivy down to the bakery and got in line looking over the different pastries they had for sale. Between the two of them, they picked out an array of sweet and savory options with Marinette making sure to pick out some vegetarian options for Damian. Soon they were walking out with two large bags and were walking down the street back to their home.

Upon entering both had to hold their bags of treats high out the reach of Bud and Lou trying hard to reach the goodies hidden away. Harley quickly came over pulling them back by their collars so the two could set the bags down in the kitchen.

Damian was settled at the table and got up coming over to help them unpack as Harley got some coffee and tea going as they all settled down to enjoy a bit of a late breakfast. Marinette ate her croissants and fruit danish taking small bites so as not to upset her stomach any further. The small group spoke of anything and everything as they enjoyed their meal. Harley taking the time to pick out the meat from her sandwich to give to the two hyenas and Damian holding a small conversation with Tiki as she munched on the cookies Marinette picked out.

“So when are you going back?” Harley asked looking over at Marinette as she bit into her bagel.

“In a month, the doctor said we should be able to hear the heartbeat by then,” Marinette said, finishing off her danish, “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“You’ll be fine Marigold we’re here for you every step.” Ivy smiled ruffling her hair, “Now I think you should go lay down, maybe settle your stomach and your nerves. You were looking a bit green and tense after your appointment.”

Marinette nodded, finishing her tea and croissant before heading back to her room to lay down. Damian finished off his breakfast quickly and excused himself before following Marinette leaving the two sirens and the small goddess at the table.

“At least he’s good for our little Mari.” Harley hummed sipping her coffee, “So long as he makes her happy he can stick around I guess but not too sure I forgive him for knocking our baby up.”

“Oh, now you don’t like him?” Ivy chuckled, raising her eyebrow at her.

“Oh, I adore the kid but you know one of us has to give him the shovel talk eventually.” Harley chuckled getting up to clean the dishes and put the leftovers away.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

@myazael @beautiful-disasters-sunshine @moonlightstar64 @moonlitceleste @stainedglassm @casual-darkness @mochegato @ultimatetornshipper @heemsanddamemes @nathleigh @qualitypeacepainter @raven-frost-21 @maskedpainter @demonicbusiness @dood-space @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @indecisive-mess-named-me @changelinggarden @zerotosiki @alysrose-starchild @s-and-n @wolf2118 @athena452 @jjmjjktth @eliza-bich @solangelo252 @icerosecrystal @heinrode @Junarvion

@babylovebug18 @animegirlweeb @corporeal-terrestrial

#daminette #damianette #damidad #mominette #maribat #maridami #ml x dc #teen pregnancy #stomach bug

180 notes · View notes

corpsentry · 4 years ago

Text

january: an art retrospective

i did some stuff last month (but it’s a lot of stuff and there’s a photodump + some Serious Fucking Reflection, so it’s all below the cut)

so ok, let’s start with this. here are some heads. each head has a red arrow. that red arrow is what i call the red line of the devil. it’s the slope of the face from the side of the eye to the cheekbone and then down towards the chin. up until like 2 weeks ago, i couldn’t draw it. i couldn’t fucking draw it. i would edit over that part of the face over and over again until i was frustrated and tired and i had a raging homosexual headache and it still never looked right. notice that each head is different. notice that each head looks wrong.

at the start of 2021 i finally admitted to myself, as per the image above, that i was deeply, deeply unhappy with my art. what was the problem? i dunno. but i decided i was going to fix it and i was going to do so via another one scribble a day event wherein for every day of january i would find a photo of a human head, and i would draw it.

january 1st, 2021. i was embarrassed to tweet this even on my private account where like 5 friends and a rock would see it. in retrospect, you can also see all of my bad habits emerging like dicks from a hole in the ground. it’s disproportionate. the brows look flat. the eyes are slanting upwards. the entire drawing looks flat, like this isn’t a 3d person but a caricature of one.

january 2nd, 3rd, 4th:

on the 2nd i decided to start a separate thread for doodles and applied learning. here’s the first set of tests

the rest of the week is kind of uneventful so we’re going to skip those. fast forward to january 11th

this one is especially bad. i am acutely aware, suddenly, that i am not changing anything at all. i’m stressed and miserable about it because i’m still trying to see people as people and trying to draw people that look attractive and proportionate and hot. my friend, leny, reminds me that i need to think about faces in terms of planes. i have a moment. my other friend masha sends me some links to anatomy tutorials. i have another moment.

january 11th. applied sketch

january 13th is when i start the troubleshooting process. the link above drives me mad because i’m pretty happy with the face but then i realize that there’s something very fucking wrong with the shape of the head LOL and then i realize that i’ve never had any idea what the proportion of the face to the rest of the skull is so i grit my teeth and i open a new canvas and i

bald studies. it seemed like the right thing to do. can’t draw heads? ok draw some heads. look at some photographs. i traced each photo but tried to stick to straight lines so that i could replicate the shapes more easily. i broke each face down into shapes. i thought about airplanes

i got really excited. i started doing studies, then applied studies, then stylized studies.

sketches. i’m not sure what’s going on (as always) and it’s very rough, but they look different from the sketches i did on january 2nd. that’s a start

january 16th’s daily study. looks more like a person now. juuuuuust a bit

more applied studies

on the 18th i take a break and go stare at some lips because i don’t understand how the fuck they work. again, i focus on shapes, on volume, on the fact that these things exist in 3d. holy fuck lips exist in 3d. holy fuck we are real

january 19th. i’m working on it.

january 22nd. some sketches + a daily study. it has finally occurred to me that heads can tilt up and down and that things look different accordingly. yes i was not aware of this before. yes i have been drawing for over a decade.

january 23rd. by this point after doing my daily sketch i almost always go back and do an applied study which is basically to say i drew a lot of fucking links. this one looks kind of okay. i’m kind of proud

january 25th. links. trying to make sense of everything i’ve learned

26th, 27th, 28th. daily studies

january 1st. january 31st

The End Of The Photo Dump (dab)

ok NOW i get to talk about what i discovered while studying the shit out of human beings

FIRST OF ALL, there is something precious and magical about drawing shit without the explicit knowledge that you’re going to tweet that shit out to 45 people later. it takes the burden of perception off your shoulders and that does something to you, or at least that’s my theory. i told myself i wouldn’t post any of this stuff until the end of the month (if i wanted to post it at all) and kept everything off my public social media accounts and that meant i could draw ugly as hell without worrying about who would point and laugh, which i absolutely fucking did. a lot of these are fucking trainwrecks. most of these are fucking trainwrecks. why do they look like that?? why??? this doesn’t look like the work of someone who’s allegedly been drawing since they were in kindergarten, does it?????

here’s why: because that person took a huge motherfucking swing at everything they’d ever known about art and spent a month building something new in its place. the abstract explanation is that i grew up on shoujo and weird old anime and my understanding of anatomy was unironically kamichama karin and while i love kamichama karin, when kamichama karin is your rule even if you try to break it, you’re going to end up going nowhere. “you have to know the rules to break them”, yeah? well i didn’t know shit. the abstract explanation is i’ve been miserable about my art for a few years now because i saw other people doing things effortlessly which i couldn’t and instead of going back to the basics, i tried to do what they did (not plagiarism, mind you, i mean i literally tried to copy the red line of the devil i mentioned above because i couldn’t even make that happen) and then i fucking failed.

the simple explanation is this. i had to unlearn everything, and relearn it again (like some kind of new renaissance clown, what the fuck is this?)

take this for example. all my life i’ve drawn faces in the order: eyes, nose, mouth, face shape, head. this works for some people, im aware, but it was something central to how i had always drawn, so i decentralized it. i said fuck you to the old me and changed the order up. now i start with the nose, then the eyes, mouth, the chin line, and the sides of the face. now i force myself to think about the human head as a series of parts interacting with each other instead of a bunch of disparate features which i want to look pretty.

or let’s use this zelda from last year. something about this looked wrong last october, the way something about all of my drawings looked wrong, but i couldn’t pinpoint it for hell the way i couldn’t articulate Any of my feelings about the visual arts. now, looking back, here’s what i see. that nose is sticking out far too much given how she’s not really facing very far away from the camera. that ear at the back shouldn’t be there. her forehead is too big. she doesn’t have a forehead. what the fuck is up with the shape of her head?

so apparently reject modernity embrace tradition has its roots in alt-right terminology and i’m not very horny for the alt-right (you understand), but the spirit survives here. you know sometimes you have to admit that you have no idea what the fuck you’re doing and draw people for 31 days. i’ve spent my whole life drawing stylized people and while again there are artists who have no issue with this, i veered off the track of the Good and the Holy and couldn’t get back on. i had no point of reference because i’d never thought about what an actual human being looks like, so i had no way to fix what i knew in my gut looked wrong but wouldn’t come out better.

this was hard. this was like oikawa tooru swallowing his worthless pride and admitting that ushijima wakatoshi had gotten the best of him for the last time in his high school career, but in haikyuu!! by furudate haruichi oikawa tooru fucks off to argentina and then joins the argentinean national team, and you know what, i think i’ve made it to argentina (not the team just the country). as per the golden rule of dont fucking move until you’re at least two thirds of the way through the month, i only started trying to draw Shit shit on like the 22nd or something, but i was happy with that i created. i am happy with what i’ve done. i’ve posted like 2 things this month that involve people with what i now call ~applied Knowledge~~ and they’re, like, not perfect obviously (perfection is an unattainable ideal), but i’m fucking proud of them. i didn’t spend 5 hours hunched over my laptop adjusting the red line of the devil because it’s not a devil’s line anymore. because i finally sorta get how people work. because i sat down and i said ‘we are not going to fuck with this misery shit anymore’ and then i did that. it’s just a line now.

here are 2 collages tracking my painstakingly carved out progress from january 2nd to february 2nd because i’m a slut for collages

and here’s what i’ve done to my art! the same person drew these but also Not Really! you know! for the first time in a year i don’t immediately hate what i’ve drawn. you know what guys? art is fucking fun. zelda’s forehead doesn’t scare me anymore because i know how foreheads fucking work now, and i don’t know everything, and i’m going to keep troubleshooting stuff as i go (i want to draw a skeleton. like a. i want to draw a goddamn skeleton guys) but i’m honestly and genuinely proud of what i’ve done in the span of a month, and i’m also in disbelief. i started this month-long challenge out as a last ditch effort to make peace with my art because i’ve been tired for a long time and i was ready to kick the bucket on drawing people altogether. i didn’t think anything would happen. nothing’s happened for years. i’ve been miserable for years.

this was the caption for january 1st, 2021. i was super, super fucking embarrassed and it looks like super fucking shit, but you know what, i think i did in fact triumph over the bullshit. surprisingly enough, when you put in consistent effort into something, You Will See Results. didn’t see that coming, did you? i know i didn’t.

this isn’t a success story. it’s a happiness story. i never gave a shit damn about the institute of art or whatever, i was just mad at myself because what i saw in my head didn’t match up with what was on the canvas. and now it’s getting better. now i’m calibrating the compass. now drawing not just backgrounds but also people is exciting to me, and i can stick my links in your face and tell you ‘they hot’. i’m going to keep doing that. i’m going to keep going until i drop off the side of the earth and then spiral towards mars like some kind of fairy, and then i’m going to create something beautiful.

thanks for reading. here’s a pr department link for sticking around until the end

#my stuff

205 notes · View notes

lloydskywalkers · 4 years ago

Text

any port in a storm

Pixal and Lloyd and the evolving nature of friendship, as highlighted by the regular burning down of your city.

(desperately trying to break through writer’s block and classes again, this was supposed to be under 2k and it is...very much not hdfjkgh but! i’ve been meaning to write for Pixal and Lloyd for a while so here are a whole bunch of feelings about the two of them and s8)

Pixal meets — truly meets — Lloyd Garmadon shortly after his brother’s been blown to pieces.

She says truly, because if you ask her, Pixal will tell you she met Lloyd Garmadon at exactly 8:48 in the evening outside his father’s monastery, moments before a horde of nindroids led there by Pixal herself descended upon them.

But Lloyd argues that since they said about two words total to each other, it doesn’t really count as meeting, and by the time Pixal’s spending the better part of her day with him running high and low around Ninjago City, she’s learned that it’s easier not to press the point.

Lloyd can be stubborn, like that.

She’d first learned that when she’d met him, just after they’d lost Zane. That loss hadn’t lasted long, especially for Pixal, but the immediate aftermath of it had been devastating. She’d watched with blank eyes as the team had fractured, splitting at the seams as they all fled their separate ways, too heartsore and dizzy with grief to do much otherwise.

All of them had fled, save Lloyd. She hadn’t paid him much attention before that point, the surprisingly small bearer of the Golden Power. Of course, he wasn’t the bearer of that power anymore, but his eyes alone had shown the experience of it. There’d been a brief, lost look that had crossed his face as the others had mentioned leaving, before it had been swept under a mask of stubborn, determined blankness. He wouldn’t be leaving. Someone had to stay behind and watch out for things, he’d claimed, even as the loss had bled through his voice.

Pixal hadn’t quite grasped the concept of empathy at that point, but she’d felt something dangerously close to it.

At any rate, the only interaction they’d had alone was brief. In fact, the only one Pixal can truly remember — and her memory never fails — is the quick exchange they’d had in the hospital lobby directly after the battle. The hospital was for Mr. Borg, and for the ninja’s minor injuries.

There was nothing any hospital on earth could do for Zane.

Pixal had found herself next to Lloyd in the waiting room, trying to distract herself from those thoughts while Lloyd stared at the stark white tiling with dull eyes.

“They never mentioned what your power was,” she’d asked him, almost absently. Collecting data, processing information — anything she could do to distract from the crushing grief.

“Oh.” Lloyd had blinked, startling back into awareness. He’d suddenly looked painfully young. “It’s, ah, I guess it’s just green, now.”

It had been Pixal’s turn to blink. “Green.”

“Yeah.” Lloyd had bit his lip, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, two habits he’ll never quite lose. “I mean — it’s more than that, but it’s like — energy, I guess, is the best way to put it?”

“Interesting,” Pixal had remarked.

“Yeah.”

They’d stared at each other in silence after that, before they’d both been called off to other errands — and then they were having Zane’s funeral and then Pixal was making realizations she never got to tell anyone, and that had been that in her early introductions to Lloyd Garmadon. Quiet, awkward, and possessing an incredible power he hardly even knew the name of.

Looking back, Pixal figures her introduction hadn’t gone much better.

They’d continued as passing acquaintances as time went on, separated by danger and the confines of Zane’s head, and Pixal had figured that’s all they’d ever be. But then their Sensei goes missing and, despite Pixal’s increasing disappearances on Zane as she rebuilds her own body, she’s been given the role of watching out for Ninjago city along with Lloyd.

She quickly learns that quiet is not a term fit for Lloyd Garmadon when you’re trapped alone with him.

************

“How is there not a single station playing actual music?” Lloyd seethes, flicking through the channels almost manically. “It’s two am, who’s gonna be listening to your stupid commercial for toothpaste now, are you kidding me?”

“Statistically speaking, this is the prime time for long-distance driving near Ninjago City,” Pixal supplies, her voice a hint scratchy where it comes through the his car’s radio speakers. “Or, if you factor in the construction in the east district, there could still be traffic from late-night bars.”

Lloyd groans, thunking his head against the steering wheel as another ad screeches through the small space. “Wonderful.”

“Your vocal tones suggest you find it otherwise.”

“Dont trust ‘em, my vocal tones are traitors.” As if to solidify his point, Lloyd’s voice cracks in the middle of his sentence, shooting up an octave higher. Lloyd goes bright red, and thunks his head against the steering wheel again.

Taking pity on him, Pixal aims for reassurance. “It is normal for your voice to break, Lloyd. It shouldn’t last too long.” She pauses, momentarily scanning through another article. “On second thought, this one suggests it could also take two to three years for your voice to stabilize.”

Lloyd gives a strangled moan. “End me.”

“Unfortunately, that would defeat the purpose of why I’m here in the first place.”

Lloyd tilts his head, cracking an eye open as he glances at the camera feed he knows she’s watching him from. “Unfortunately, huh,” he muses. “So you’re saying if Zane hadn’t made you promise to look out for me, you would end me?”

“That — no, that is not — of course I wouldn’t end you,” Pixal backtracks. An odd feeling flickers through her, almost as if she’s lost her place, floundering.

Or embarrassed might be more accurate, she thinks wryly. She briefly considers projecting a a glaring face at Lloyd from the monitor. This is his fault. She rarely stuttered before Lloyd started teasing her at all hours of the morning.

“I mean, you wouldn’t be the first,” Lloyd continues, conversationally. “And if we’re being honest, I’d definitely rather you be the one to off me, instead of like, random bad guy number eighty-five—”

“I know you think you are funny,” Pixal cuts over him. “But casually planning for your death is something Kai listed I was not to let you do. Also, it is not nearly as funny as you think it is.”

“Ouch,” Lloyd mutters, though he looks chastised. “Never mind, you just took me out in one sentence.”

Chastised might be the wrong term.

Pixal studies him through the monitor, then sighs. “I am, however, honored you think highly enough of me to offer the right to murder you,” she gives in.

She’s rewarded as Lloyd breaks into a bright grin.

He still looks painfully young these days, but it’s less obvious. His voice is pitching lower and he wears his hair different, and he’s gained a whip-like tendency to quip at people, as Pixal’s experienced firsthand. Kai calls it sass in grumbling but fond tones, and Nya calls it snark somewhere between the fourth book series she’s sent for Pixal to try.

The ninja have been kind like that, sharing the interests they have in an attempt to make her feel…well, more human, she supposes. Less confined to a voice in a computer. Of course, Pixal isn’t confined to a voice in a computer anymore, but they don’t know that yet. She’ll tell them someday soon, she promises herself. Any day now.

In the meantime, it’s easy enough to keep up with Lloyd by lurking in his car radio, as he spends half his time in there anyways.

************

“You’d think we’d have found their hideout by now,” Lloyd notes, as they wait in a darkened alleyway again. It gives them an excellent view of the major highways, so if the rumored biker gang does show up, they won’t miss it.

If they show up being the key point.

“Whoever their leader is, they certainly know how to keep a low profile,” Pixal answers, closing out another dead end police report in frustration.

“It’s weird,” Lloyd says, propping the notebook he’s sketching in on his knee as he squints at the paper. “Normally the boss types aren’t this quiet. They like to show off, y’know? Make a big scene, dramatic speeches and all.”

“Are you referring to the villains, or yourselves?”

“Touché,” Lloyd snorts. “But still, you gotta admit it’s weird they haven’t even made any demands. What’s their end game here, elaborate advertising for motorcycle design?”

“I would hope not,” Pixal says. “Their color coordination is lacking.”

Lloyd fights back a smile, his pencil scratching as he shifts his notebook again. “I don’t know, I kinda like the punk look.”

“I noticed that, when you tried to redecorate the car.”

“Hey, skulls are cool.”

“They are also conspicuous, especially when they come in acid green colors.”

“Everyone’s a critic,” Lloyd sighs, making a face as he scrubs the eraser across the paper. Pixal tries to tilt the camera further, to see what he’s drawing tonight, but the angle he’s holding it at remains just out of sight.

She could probably guess what he’s drawing, if she tried. The notebook is one they’ve been steadily working their way through on these late-night patrols, the pages filled with little hangman games and Lloyd’s sketches of animals and his teammates. He’s drawn her a few times from memory, and she’s been tempted to ask him to draw her in the new Samurai X armor more than once.

Soon, she tells herself.

“What are you drawing?” she finally asks, curiosity getting the better of her.

Lloyd’s cheeks tinge pink, and he quickly plasters the notebook to his chest, hiding it entirely from view. “Nothing.”

Pixal waits, letting the silence fill with her judgement. “Lloyd, I have seen your drawings before.”

He doesn’t reply, and Pixal tries again. “It gets boring, being stuck with the car monitors for eyes.”

“I know you can hack other cameras,” Lloyd mutters, but he sighs, relenting as he turns the notebook over. Pixal’s eyes rake over the detailed sketch — it’s a comical little thing of her and Lloyd, jammed together on a tiny lifeboat in the middle of a darkening ocean. She can spot the smudges where he’s redrawn her head several times, and the numerous attempts he’s made at his own hair. Pixal studies Lloyd’s portrayal of himself, which is noticeably lacking in facial features. While Lloyd draws the others plenty, it’s a rare occasion that he draws himself, and she can’t help but be curious.

“I thought you were drawing the others again,” she admits.

“They’re on the ship,” Lloyd says, absently. “I’ll draw them when they remember to pull us back in.”

There’s nothing bitter in his tone to suggest it has any bearing on their actual lives, but the lost expressions Lloyd ends up giving their tiny caricatures feel familiar nonetheless.

“Zane has assured me they will be back as soon as they can,” Pixal speaks ups quietly.

Lloyd finally looks up fully, and flashes the monitor a smile. “I know,” he says. “So we better have this thing busted by the time they do, or they’ll never let us run a city on our own again.”

“If only we were truly running the city,” Pixal grumbles. “I could do a better job in two days than the current leaders could do in a year.”

“I’d vote for you,” Lloyd says, sincerely.

It’s a sweet gesture, but Pixal is unable to resist. “You don’t know how to vote.”

“Yes I do, it’s not hard!”

“Really? Then why are you not currently registered in the Ninjago voting system?”

Lloyd makes a strangled noise. “That’s a thing?”

She’s unable to keep the smugness from her voice. “I make my point.” Lloyd scowls, and scribbles a mustache on his drawing of her in revenge.

Pixal thinks it looks nice nonetheless.

************

She can’t really hold it against Lloyd for talking as much as he does, considering she does the same. It gets dull, sitting on patrol for hours on end, and there are only so many hours of light reading they can do before the silence begins to drive them both insane.

Pixal finds herself talking about more useless things with Lloyd than she has in her existence, pointless conversations in circles with each other. She also finds she doesn’t entirely mind. She’s become quite good at quipping back and forth with him, at least. It’s different than the kind of talk she has with Zane, lacking in the depth of feeling with the love they share. Her exchanges with Lloyd are lighter, though that’s not to say they’re less sincere.

For example, Zane hasn’t tried to teach her how to redesign a gi in poor lighting in the early hours of the morning because he’s bored out of his mind, that’s for sure.

��I’m teaching you how to sew,” Lloyd corrects, wincing as he accidentally stabs himself with the needle. “And I’m not redesigning the whole thing, I’m just adding some designs to spice it up.”

“I did not know you were allowed to wear colors other than green,” Pixal comments.

Lloyd pauses, squinting at the monitor. “You’re teasing me,” he finally says. “You’re making fun of how much green this gi has in it.”

“I would never,” Pixal replies, her tone flat and even. “The intricacies of your human humor evade me—”

“Human humor, nice—”

“—unlike the unusually bright shade of green you’ve chosen will fail to evade any eyes of your enemies.”

“I knew you were making fun of me!” Lloyd accuses, then flinches as he stabs his finger again trying to point at her. “And bright colors are our thing. Being subtle is, uh…not. Usually.”

Pixal is losing the battle to laugh at his expression by the minute. “I am shocked.”

Lloyd glares at the monitor, shifting his sewing to rest on his knees as he slouches in the car seat. “How’d you even get so good at sarcasm, anyways,” he mutters. “Zane still doesn’t get it half the time.”

“Perhaps it is part of my glowing personality,” Pixal says. Lloyd gives a huff of laughter, relenting.

“Fair enough,” he says, shifting in his seat again. “Fine, you win. The green is probably too bright, but that’s not the point. I’m gonna show you how to do a backstitch."

Pixal falls quiet, letting Lloyd gesture with the needle as he explains. There are a hundred, a thousand tutorials she could pull up online, digitized knowledge instantly learned on all the countless types of stitches she could use, sorted and categorized in neat columns of use and effectiveness. All of them more detailed, more easily understood than Lloyd’s absent rambling and unsteady hands as he struggles with the end of a knot.

Not one of them will care whether or not Pixal learns the odd way Zane likes to loop his stitches, or will quietly add which stitches knit skin back together quickest.

So Pixal ignores her programming, and does her best to follow Lloyd’s rambling instructions, watching as his scarred fingers tug another thread of dull gold through the green mess of fabric, the city quiet around them.

“You never did tell me where you learned how to sew,” Pixal says, as Lloyd starts up a new thread of black on the other side of the gi. “Was that something the others taught you in training?”

“They’d have to know how to be able to teach it,” Lloyd snickers. “And, uh, no. I taught myself to back at Darkley’s.”

“Oh,” Pixal falters. She’s heard about Darkley’s, both from Zane and the legal reports she’s read online. Neither gave a positive impression of the place. Her mind is suddenly filled with images of a younger Lloyd trying to give himself stitches, and her heart twists.

Lloyd starts, seemingly having picked up on her train of thought. “I mean, I did it for fun, mostly. I like sewing,” he explains. “It’s useful. You can pull things back together, and fix ‘em.”

Pixal is quiet, but she hopes Lloyd takes her silence as agreement with his motive. She likes to think he knows her well enough for that, by now.

************

Pixal finds, somewhere during their fourth month alone, that she’s glad the team elected to stick her and Lloyd together. Not because she doesn’t want to be with Zane — there’s never a moment she doesn’t miss him, and with every day that passes her resolve to keep her secret from him grows weaker, as the longing for actual connection grows stronger.

But there are conversations she can have with Lloyd that she can never have with Zane, and the dangerous thing about spending time with Lloyd, Pixal finds, is that they’re more similar than she’s realized.

“Sometimes I think I’m jealous,” Lloyd whispers to her one night. It’s one of the bad ones, the ones where their enemies struck too sudden to stop, and the mission ends in the hospital. “I think I’m jealous of Zane, and I hate myself for it.”

Pixal is quiet, trying to pick apart the tone of his voice in the words he’s just spoken, and factors in the victims they’ve just left behind at the hospital. She finds herself no closer to an answer.

“Is it the metal skin part?” she finally asks, though she knows that’s wrong. “The, what was it, technical immortality?”

“No,” Lloyd shakes his head. “I’m not afraid of dying,” he says emphatically, his fingers fluttering at over the steering wheel, tapping incessantly with unspent energy. “I don’t want to, but that’s — it’s not what I’m scared of. I’m more scared of how I go out.”

He swallows, and his fingers move to dance over the woven bracelet on his wrist instead, twisting at the tiny beads and tracing senseless designs in constant, steady movement. It’s a motion he does often, and it had puzzled Pixal at first. She’d decided to write it off as an odd tick, a way to spend excess energy.

Now, she recognizes the desperate kind of reassurance that movement gives. She understands too well the need to remind yourself that you can move — that your body will obey you and you alone.

Pixal thinks back to the other factors in tonight’s accident, of the way the drugged man’s eyes had cleared when they’d finally turned him over to the police, the way he’d sworn he’d never do such a thing in his right mind. She thinks of the way the first victim had thrown themselves over their companion.

That victim hadn’t made it to the hospital.

“Ah,” Pixal says, quietly.

She’s silent again, and she thinks back to when she’d met him, the very first time. She recalls the way her programming had rebelled against her in favor of the Overlord, corrupting her body and forcing it against her, twisting everything she was and wanted to be into something different.

She thinks back again, to the searing-hot anger, the terror, the despair as she was torn apart, piece by piece like a machine, burning out at the whims of another. Her end purposeless, her demise belonging to someone else, just like every other part of her.

She thinks of the last glimpse she’d caught of Zane, bright and beautiful as a supernova. Burning with the terrible brilliance of his own, determined choice. Terrible, because the death of something always is. Beautiful, because it was his own. Zane died, not a machine, not a weapon, not a tool of anyone or anything, but as himself. Zane died to save the ones he loves. Pixal could’ve died for spare parts.

Never again, she promises herself. If she goes out, she goes out on her own terms. This time, they choose the end of their own destiny themselves.

In hindsight, it’s the kind of promise they’re both too young to make, but neither of them have ever seen themselves as such, and promises like that are easy.

“Love can be terrible, sometimes,” Lloyd murmurs. Pixal watches him scrub at the blood on his uniform, and thinks how ironically well-timed it is that he finished the stitching on his new gi this morning. “Sometimes I forget how ugly it can be.”

************

The end of their nighttime stakeouts begins with a break-in at Mr. Borg’s tower. Lloyd argues that she should get to call it her father’s tower, if she wants, but the ninja aren’t the only ones Pixal’s hiding herself from.

And then Lloyd gets very tense at the thought of fathers very fast, and they never finish the conversation.

They stay at the edge of the bridge long after the parachute, emblazoned with the unmistakable visage of Lloyd’s father, disappears from sight. Pixal wonders if it’s burned into Lloyd’s eyes, like the way she’s read black spots linger in humans’ vision after they’ve looked at something too bright. The way Lloyd stares at the river, his shoulders tense and his teeth worrying at his lip, she thinks she might be right.

They’re waiting on the report from the commissioner —they’re waiting for anything, anyone who can offer them any explanation of what’s going on. Pixal’s reminded of how much she loathes this kind of waiting.

“It could be—” Lloyd begins, then breaks off, his voice wavering. He swallows, and Pixal can see the way his fists clench tightly from the cameras they’ve put in his car. There’s a fierce part of her that longs to reveal herself, to meet his eyes herself and offer some semblance of comfort. But there’s a time and place for things, and Pixal isn’t ready.

“It could be anything,” Lloyd finally continues, his voice small. “It could — it doesn’t mean anything. It could mean nothing, right?”

Pixal is silent, her mind racing. She’s run the calculations over and over in her head already, scouring the internet for anything related to the bikers. She’s been foolish, she realizes — they both have. Letting the gang go unnamed for so long, thinking nothing of it. Now, with the name flashing vibrant across Pixal’s vision, a part of her wants to let them go nameless just a bit longer.

Before she can answer, Lloyds phone goes off with a sharp ping, just as Pixal’s sensors alert her to the message from the commissioner. Lloyd snatches for his phone like it’s on fire, and Pixal’s already scanning the message frantically, as if she can salvage this if she’s fast enough, save Lloyd from this one pain.

Lloyd’s gotten much better at reading quickly though, these days.

She can pinpoint the moment he reaches the last paragraph, because his breath hitches. There’s a long, pressing pause of silence, Lloyd’s hands trembling as they clutch weakly at his phone. Then it’s punctured by a reedy, wheezing gasp, and Pixal’s suddenly wishing she’d revealed herself after all.

Instead, all she has is her voice as Lloyd crumples, crouching over in visible distress. Pixal’s mind races, recalling everything Zane’s ever told her about his team, the way their panic manifests in different shades. Lloyd’s is quiet but desperate, rapid breathes that stutter as his eyes slide more and more into a frightening kind of blankness.

“Lloyd, please, listen to my voice,” she begs, trying to reach him in the only way she can. “Please, you have to breathe—”

“He’s gone,” Lloyd rasps, unhearing of her words. “He’s s’posed to be gone, it’s supposed to be over, I’m supposed to be done—”

Pixal fights back the sense of overwhelming helplessness. She knows loss. She knows how to finish his sentence. He’s supposed to be done grieving, done mourning, done clinging to false scraps of hope that his father isn’t lost forever only to be met with heartbreak.

And now, to be met with the possibility of something so much worse.

“We’ll stop them,” she tells him, unflinching. “We won’t let it happen.”

Lloyd’s eyes are a vivid green where they stare at her through the monitor, almost ghostly in the misting light reflecting from the river.

He’s silent, but Pixal is, too.

Pixal remembers the way her head had spun when she’d first picked up the traces of Zane in the system, how the world had rushed then steadied, flooding with color as she’d realized he might not be lost after all. She remembers the surging, overwhelming flood of joy, that someone she’d thought she lost might live after all. She remembers being so happy, at even the smallest chance to get him back, because the voice was Zane’s, without a doubt.

She watches the color seep from Lloyd’s expression as his shoulders shudder, the words from the commissioner’s message almost echoing through the air. Watches the terror as the both of them fill the silence.

Will we?

The radio scratches, as if echoing Pixal’s anxiety. Love can be terrible, sometimes. She’s underestimated how it also be so cruel.

************

She’s also, apparently, underestimated how the universe on the whole could be so cruel.

She should’ve revealed herself to them from day one. That way, when Harumi’s corrupted programming suddenly ravages through her like an electric shock, she could be reassured they’d at least be familiar with the person they were fighting.

Instead, she doesn’t even get to scream. Pixal’s only able to force out a desperate, broken warning before she’s lost again, drowning in her own body as she’s forced under. Furious panic grips her as she screams without lungs, bashing herself against the overwhelming helplessness that’s taken over her.

Not again, not again, not again—

Her limbs creak and jolt against her will, lashing out at the people she cares most about, and Pixal can’t even rage back in her own voice. She’s sworn, she’s promised herself she’d never let anyone do this to her again — she’s sworn she’d die before she let someone reach into her head and snatch control away, and yet here she is, frozen as her body’s used to target her friends.

If she could cry, she might.

There’s not much more to say than that. She breaks free, her body her own once again, but by then it’s too late.

************

If Pixal had the same gift of foresight that Zane did, maybe she would have seen it coming. Maybe she’d have remembered how similar her and Lloyd are, and that this kind of pained desperation always yields impulsiveness and mistakes.

She doesn’t, though. She barely even manages to do what she’s trying to, which is convincing Lloyd to join the others while they celebrate their victory. Their off-key singing is something he normally wouldn’t hesitate to join in on, she thinks, and she hates Harumi a little more.

Maybe she’ll try his mother next. The expression on Lloyd’s face screams unapproachable, and remains fixedly sullen.

Almost to her surprise, he meets her eyes as she draws near— it’s odd, being able to meet his back — and his own eyes are dark, from despair over Harumi or despair over his father, Pixal isn’t sure. She’s thinking it might be both, when his eyebrows crease, and a flicker of concern cuts through them instead.

“You good?”

It takes her a moment to realize why he’s asking, but the answer is obvious. Her head tilts downward, and she watches as her fingers curl and uncurl. Her movements, her choices. She lets out an even breath.

“As I can be,” she replies. Lloyd nods, and his eyes are understanding. His lips twist in a scowl.

“She shouldn’t have done that to you. That was a low blow.”

Pixal’s mouth curves into a humorless smile. “That it was. She’s rather good at those, isn’t she.”

Lloyd’s eyes shadow again, and he looks away, crossing his arms. “This isn’t supposed to be about me,” he mutters.

“Yes, it is,” Pixal counters. “It is why I came over here, in the first place. She hurt—”

“All of us, and who’s fault is that,” Lloyd snaps, his arms crossing tighter.

“I would hope you know it’s hers,” she says, holding firm.

Lloyd looks away again, biting his lip, and Pixal shifts anxiously, rolling her wrists. The sensation of control sliding away still haunts her, worse than it had the first time. She should be better than this, she tells herself hotly. She’s lived without a body long enough that losing it so briefly shouldn’t effect her this much.

Curse her programming, she thinks, tapping agitatedly at the banister. She knew she should have reinforce it sooner.

“Hey, um.” Lloyd is looking at her again, hesitant. He twists at his bracelet, and his eyes lose a fraction of that darkness. “Kai made this for me, after Morro,” he says. “I kept shredding the sleeves of my uniform, so he told me to mess with this instead, when I needed to remember that…that I was in control.”

He shrugs, hesitant. “We could make you one too, if you wanted. It helps, having something.”

Pixal lets out a steady breath, despite not actually needing to. The action is grounding, she’s found. “I would like that.”

Lloyd gives her a ghost of a smile in return. “Soon as this is over, then.”

There’s a heavy weight to his words, and Pixal’s eyes narrow.

“Lloyd,” she says. He looks at her, his eyes dark. “Don’t do anything foolish.”

He’s quiet, not meeting her eyes, and this is where Pixal should stop him. This is when she should see the end of the road they’ve been on since they started this, and force him to turn before it’s too late.

“I know what I’m doing.”

She doesn’t.

************

Lloyd is battered and bleeding by the time they drag him onto the ship, a gruesome portrait of cruelty. Pixal is frozen as she watches him writhe in Kai’s hold, his screams cracked and wet as he thrashes erratically like a broken thing.

Nya is already barking orders before they’ve even gotten Lloyd fully on the ship, and Zane is running scans with a horrified, wavering focus. Pixal follows Cole as he carries Lloyd to the medbay with a blank numbness, the rush of wind streaming past the Bounty sails thunderously loud in her ears.

This isn’t Lloyd, she thinks, staring at his crumpled form. Lloyd isn’t this battered, broken shell of a person. Lloyd isn’t hazy eyes that fail to recognize them and frantic murmuring through bloody lips. Lloyd is bright-eyed and gentle and would rather die before he screams the way he does when Cole moves him to the table.

Lloyd is her friend, and this is where that promise they made has led them. She knows why Lloyd set out for the prison, hot on the collapse of his own star. She also knows he wouldn’t have chosen to burn out like this.

Cole calls out for Zane, his voice ringing in panic as Lloyd screeches in pain again. Pixal thinks of quiet words in the safety of his car, and she feels sick. This is the ugliness of love, the terrible, hideous side of it.

And Lloyd would hate it, if he could see himself, if he were any semblance of lucid. He’d hate to know just how much better he was at breaking himself than Morro ever was.

Zane is gentle as he pushes past her, but Pixal can feel the tremble in his hands. He’s every bit as rattled as she is, if not more so — Zane’s heart is larger and softer than hers has ever been, and he cares about each and every one of them with a painful intensity. It’s a cruel thing, to have to pull those same people back together with your own hands.

Kai’s eyes are streaming as he clutches at Lloyd’s wrists, pinning him in place. Zane’s hands waver again over one of the jagged wounds near Lloyd’s ribcage, the green of his uniform already dyed dark in blood, soaking over the careful stitches Pixal watched him put in himself.

Pixal finally finds her footing, reminding herself of the solid wood beneath her feet. She recalls the steady, smooth stitch Lloyd’s scarred fingers traced out for her.

“Here.” She takes the needle from Zane’s hands, squeezing his briefly before letting go. “I can do it.”

She sets the needle against Lloyd’s skin and wonders what kind of stitch it’d take to pull your heart back together.

************

Pixal cannot cry. It’s one of the features Mr. Borg spent hours debating, weighing the pros and cons of giving her the ability before he was truly sure how rust-proof she was. He’d never gotten the chance to, as the Overlord had interrupted him, then Pixal had lost any body to give the ability to cry to, which had eliminated the need entirely.

She cannot cry, but she can hurt, and the rain that streams through her hair, dripping down her forehead spotting raindrops on her cheeks, could be tears if she pretended.

She doesn’t, though, because tears are a waste of water and overall useless in the grand scheme of things. She doubts they’d have helped her fare any better in the battle with Colossi, either.

Tears won’t bring anyone back.

Lloyd cries anyways. She can’t see him, but she can hear it in his voice, the way it wavers and breaks over the radio, nasally tones pronounced.

He’s barely able to gasp a few coordinates to her before he cuts the radio off abruptly. Pixal’s spent enough time with him to envision his scarred fingers snapping it off with a particular desperation, green sparking from his hands in distress.

She reminds herself those sparks are gone, now, bled away into nothing like the vivid green of Lloyd’s eyes had. The thought makes her sadder than she’d expected. She had a joke, about his eyes, she had wanted to make. Now that she has a body, and her own set of glowing green eyes, she’d — there was something he would’ve laughed at, she thought —

It doesn’t matter, now. Neither of them are likely to laugh anytime soon.

The coordinates blink brightly in her vision, and she’s almost surprised she managed to key them in. She’s running on autopilot, she supposes. It could be ironic — she’s been so desperate for control, it’s been so important that she’s the one feeling. Now, she’d give anything not to feel at all.

She lets out a shaky breath, dispelling the mist in her vision left from the rain. She leans forward, just over the edge of the building she’s crouched on, and her loose hair falls forward, silvery and synthetic and horribly tangled. Irritated, she reaches for another hair tie, and her hands falter around her wrist.

Lloyd had promised her a bracelet there. But he’d promised Kai would make the bracelet, hadn’t he, and Kai couldn’t make the bracelet if he was dead, could he.

Pixal blinks, her breath hitching. She’s been so numb to the pain of Zane’s loss, it hasn’t yet occurred to her that she’s losing Kai, too. And Jay, and Cole, and—

She sucks in the same shuddery kind of breath she’s seen Lloyd do, and carefully fists her hand in the area of her uniform above her chest. Her fingers dig in tightly, clutching in a hopeless attempt to feel some sort of comfort she knows she’ll never find.

But perhaps, for these few seconds, she can pretend the action is holding her together.

************

“It was inevitable,” Pixal tells Lloyd blankly, as he rasps out his third apology in the dark cover of their small hideout. “That one of us would fall, eventually. It had nothing to do with you.”

Lloyd swallows thickly. “It could’ve — it should’ve been—”

He doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t need to. Pixal’s hand shoots out, clamping tightly around his wrist, and there’s a beat of gratitude that she doesn’t need to rely on her voice alone anymore.

“Don’t.” Her voice is strung tighter than the tension in their shoulders. “You cannot change anything. You can’t, Lloyd, and you should not wish to — to change it that way.”

Lloyd jerks his hand free, wiping miserably at his eyes. He sets it back down within her reach, though, and if Pixal were any different, she’d take it.

But Pixal isn’t that different from Lloyd at all in the end, and neither of them reach for the other’s hand, no matter how desperately they crave the contact. Fear is more familiar, and it’s easier to give into it than it is the clawing need for comfort in your chest, after all.

“Still,” Lloyd finally whispers. “Still.”

Pixal swallows. She doesn’t disagree. If one of them had to fall, she knows she gladly would have taken it upon herself. She knows the others care for her, certainly, but she also knows her place in the grand scheme of things. They were six before she came along, and even now she’s kept far too many secrets to be fully counted among them.

She listens to Lloyd’s quiet, cracked voice, and she wonders if he’s thinking that they were five before he came along, younger than Pixal got to know him as.

Now they’re three, hollow and heartbroken. Though counting herself as one whole feels like cheating, right now.

Pixal squeezes her eyes shut, and wonders what it’s like to cry. Perhaps it helps, though Lloyd doesn’t look any less miserable.

************

“I was thinking,” Lloyd tells her, during one of the precious few quiet moments they have while trying to overthrow Garmadon and Harumi. Pixal’s turning the tiny tea flower he’d given her over in her hands, a part of her mind already marking articles about flower-pressing, another part wondering if it’s already too late to save the blossom. “About that promise we made, before all this.”

Pixal finally tucks the flower into the pocket of her uniform, pressed close to her chest. If anything, it can be a reminder of the lives that are safe — the life that’s coming back to her, if she has to drag him back from another realm herself. “And?”

Lloyd’s hands twist together. “Maybe we should focus more on staying alive.”

Pixal coughs out a laugh, breathless and startled. Lloyd wrinkles his nose at her, but his eyes are amused, even with their light lost. “I mean, the emphasis would be on keeping everyone else alive, but it’s kinda hard to do that if we’re dead, so…yeah. Priorities.”

“Staying alive should always be a priority,” Pixal corrects him, but she tugs the edge of his armor out of place with a smile.

“Why didn’t you teach me how to graffiti?” she nods at the designs on the green leather. “Or was this another Darkley’s tradition.”

“This is a refined art, called whatever I had on me that showed up on dark green,” Lloyd grumbles, fixing his armor. “I’ll teach it to you when we get out of this.”

“Another reason why staying alive would be a more productive focus,” Pixal points out. “I’ve heard teaching is easier when you’re alive.”

“And I’ve heard you’re a real riot,” Lloyd mutters. “It’s a promise, okay? I promise to teach you how to do cool armor design if you promise not to disappear into another realm on me.”

Pixal nods, adjusting her own armor tighter as screams ring out from a street nearby. “A promise, then.”

She keeps both the promise and the flower, the tiny blossom dried and faded by the time she’s escaped from the prison, heart racing with leftover adrenaline as Zane sweeps her into his arms. She clutches back every bit as tight, listening to his breathless laughter as cheers rise from the streets behind them, the smoke drifting across the early morning sky above them pale against the lightening blue. Pixal buries her face in his shoulder and breathes, tucking the moment away in her heart where it won’t fade. There’s a future stretching out before her, and she’s got the limbs to walk her path on her own, but all she wants right now is the steady ground beneath her feet and the bright laughter of what she’s managed to keep.

Lloyd meets them shortly after, his own promise kept as he tears his gaze from his father, handing him off to the authorities before sprinting for the others. Pixal barely snags a moment alone with him, and even then no one’s particularly keen on letting him out of their sights.

He meets her eyes as they pick their way through the wrecked streets, the city more alive around them than it’s been in weeks. In the dark of the early morning, Pixal’s eyes glow a bright green, reflecting oddly in the windows they pass. It’s always been her preferred color, in contrast to Zane’s bright blue. Lloyd glances at her, his own eerily green eyes glowing back. He bites his lip, but it’s to hold back real laughter this time.

“My eyes were green first,” she tells him.

“Sue me,” he shoots back, before Kai’s throwing an arm over his shoulders again, tucking Lloyd neatly in between him and Nya. Pixal smothers a laugh at the look on his face, and tightens her own arm further where it’s linked firmly in Zane’s.

It’s going to be an easy promise to keep, she thinks.

#lego ninjago #ninjago #lloyd garmadon #ninjago lloyd #pixal #there was a point to this but it got lost in pix and lloyd do arts and crafts #either way i'd die for both these characters #ninjago where is the pixal love i miss her #my fic

348 notes · View notes

heartbaz · 3 years ago

Text

Magpie's happy ending (Renegade)

Of all the calls she imagined, Magpie never thought she would receive one from Tamaya Rae herself asking for help in reorganizing the items in the old weapons and artifacts department.

After "Supernova", the renegade headquarters was closed for months. It was no longer necessary to have a superhero building when superheroes no longer existed. Despite not being such an important issue, some rumors and theories spread, mostly saying that the tower would be demolished at some point.

But apparently that would not be the case.

From what heroin told her, they wanted the renegade headquarters to be a kind of museum on the second floors, which would display the artifacts stored, as well as the costumes of heroes of the old Council, photographs, news and all those things that she found it a waste of time and space to display and risk someone stealing them just like that, especially the dangerous artifacts that were in that place, but the opinion of an 11-year-old orphan girl was not so important.

When he entered the building he studied the place, which was being remodeled. He expected them to build statues of the Council, the Sketch team, a large painting, or something extravagant and flashy, typical of the renegades, especially Hugh, Captain Chromium. But he was surprised to see that it was the same as before, except that everything was new, in fact the quarantine was still under reconstruction, even Max Everhart himself was tidying up the glass city.

She realized too late that she had been staring at him for too long, a certain interest welling up in the girl at the tender expressions the boy was making as best he could arranging a four-story building near a park. Max had looked up for a second and noticed that the little blue eyes were watching him. Before receiving any gesture of greeting from the blond boy, she turned a little blushing and followed his path with a hurried step to enter the elevator and descend.

When the doors opened she could hear in the distance a conversation coming from the room of the dangerous artifacts, the voice was of two girls. when she got a little closer she realized that it was a dispute between Monarch and Nova. Nothing serious, they were just talking about some glasses and their use, something that did not interest her, she was coming for the jewelry and to see if there was something interesting and relevant so she could steal it without anyone noticing her absence.

She looked around and then stood still, she was struck by the silence that reigned in the place, and that was very strange. Something was clearly missing. Rather, someone was missing. Callum's obnoxious voice talking excessively about artifacts was missing. His lips formed a grimace without realizing it.

"This place is so different without him."

She startled to hear a voice behind her. When she turned around she saw Tina staring down the hallway. Maggie wasn't an expert at deciphering people's feelings through their eyes, but she easily saw the sadness and melancholy reflected in them, accompanied by pursed lips, clearly holding back tears.

Maggie looked at her for a few seconds before she began to feel uncomfortable.

"uh... where do I start?"

Tina shook her head and looked at her again.

"Oh right," she cleared her throat, "You need to help Sketch, Red Killer and Smokescreen sort some paperwork in the reception area, I'd assign you something else like sorting the jewelry or some artifacts, but those guys have a lot of work to do."

Magpie let out a grumble but said nothing by way of protest and headed for the reception area. It was chaos, full of papers piled up on the floor. Adrian was already reading and sorting some papers, but the other two present, Ruby and Oscar, were just flirting with each other. He grimaced. He had no idea how he was going to deal with such displays of affection during the day.

...

They had spent almost two hours among all those piles of papers organizing one by one. they were all tired and bored, but that didn't stop very interesting topics of conversation from arising among the four boys, and although at first the redhead didn't have the slightest interest in talking to them, it was inevitable for her to listen and laugh at the crazy stories Oscar had. A circle of trust was created in which even she told them some of the weirdest objects and her most risky adventures when she worked for the renegades. At this point, they were each telling the origin of their power, their faces dumbfounded as they listened to Ruby and Oscar's horrific experiences, even if hers may not have been any prettier than theirs. They had mentioned that both Sketch and Monarch were born with their powers.

"We could say that Nova was also born with one, the gift of putting others to sleep by touch" Ruby mumbled.

Magpie stared at the girl, waiting for her to continue with the explanation of how Nova managed to never sleep, but she did not. She never liked her, neither being Insomnia nor being Nightmare, she still didn't forget what happened the day Agent N was going to be released, but at that moment she aroused her curiosity and she wasn't going to stay with her.

"If he was born with the power to put people to sleep just by touching them, how did he get the power to never sleep?"

Adrian tensed, but decided to tell her.

"When Nova was 7 years old her uncle, Ace Anarchy, had her entire family killed, even her sister who was only months old. She was only saved by putting the man to sleep when he was in front of her. Ace found her and turned her into an Anarchist," he paused a little to put some papers he had just read, "Every time she tried to sleep she repeated the scene in her head, after that she could not sleep until a few months ago when she slept for 24 hours.

An uncomfortable silence reigned in the reception area. Maggie took a few moments to process it all. For a moment she felt a bit like she could relate, she too had lost her family, but she couldn't imagine how it would feel to remember everything that had happened for the rest of her life. For the first time she felt pity and empathy for the ex-villain.

"It's your turn, Urraca" said Oscar to break the silence "how you got your powers."

She grimaced as she didn't know the story for sure.

"I was too little to remember, but at the orphanage they told me that the landlord found me crying, full of blood," she took out her amulet, a bullet, from her pocket and showed it to everyone present" I had the bullet in one hand. Only the bodies of my parents were found, but there was no sign of my sister.

"Was your sister taken away?" Adrian asked, as shocked as she was to hear Nova's story.

"I don't know. For a long time I waited for my sister to come looking for me at the orphanage, but she never came. No one ever came to pick me up. I came to the conclusion that she either didn't want me or she was dead" the last thing she said in a whisper, but loud enough for those present to hear.

"What about the Renegades directory" Oscar pointed to the computer.

"I already tried, there's nothing," sighed the girl."

"Maybe there is something among all these papers of old files and cases?"

Adrian was interrupted.

"I found it!" exclaimed Ruby, who throughout Magpie's story had been sifting through the piles of papers and was now holding up a set of three sheets held together by a rusty paper clip. all she could read was "Maggie's case" and the last name was blurred, someone had splashed coffee on it.

Oscar snatched the papers from his girlfriend's hand and ran. She chased after him while feigning anger. During the two hours those two lovebirds were expressing their love through flirtatious gestures and small frolics. Maggie put up with them all the time without complaining so much, but in those moments she didn't feel like putting up with their romantic idiocies and apparently neither did Sketch, in fact he spoke first asking for a little more seriousness in the matter and for them to read the case quickly. Oscar obeyed without first letting out a "boring" along with a small cloud of smoke straight into his opponent's face.

"Let's see what it says," he began to read, "he has no birth certificate.... His name was chosen by Captain Chromium, what an honor! ... Her parents were killed in the domicile where she was found... only she survived... her sister is missing... she had a bullet in her hand..." Oscar and Ruby read without interest, but as they turned the page they wrinkled their foreheads. "Artino case"

Adrian made the same gesture with his forehead and quickly stopped to read the case. Magpie didn't understand anything but felt excitement anyway.

"Who is Artino? Is that my sister's name?"

Everhart shook his head slowly as he read over the other boy's shoulder.

"No. That's Nova's last name"

The girl sighed wearily. For a moment, the illusion returned that her sister would find her and take her with her to her new home, but it was just a stupid childish fantasy she had. Of course in those papers she would find nothing important about her life before the murder of her parents, much less anything about her missing sister.

When they finished reading, the renegades' gazes turned to her.

"Steaming saints..." Oscar was very overwhelmed. his hands went slack and he dropped the pages. Adrian picked them up with extreme gentleness.

"Margaret White Is that your real last name?"

The named woman looked at him strangely.

"I don't think so, my parents never registered me or anything like that. I was named Margaret White at the orphanage when, supposedly, they got the wrong information."

The Boy looked at her for a few moments and knelt down in front of her. she hated it when they did that. To her it was a sign that something was wrong.

"Your last name doesn't appear on these papers because they are smudged, but," he sighed, "but I believe your full name is Evelyn Artino and your sister..."

He paused for a few seconds that Maggie felt like hours. She already knew what the Renegade's next words would be, but she needed to hear it or she would think it was all just another one of her crazy fantasies.

"Your sister is Nova Artino."

She stood still and wordlessly, processing the information. She just didn't know what to do, feel or say, should she run and hug Nova or leave the place, pretend she never heard all this and believe that her sister was just a figment of her imagination?

All he could manage to do was shout a resounding "How!" at the renegade. Such an action scared him off and he backed up a few steps. Seconds later Nova and Danna arrived to see what had happened.

The girl's small eyes fixed on the shorter of the girls and she lunged at her to attack, but before she could reach out to touch her Adrian grabbed her by the waist and lifted her slightly off the ground. That brought back memories.

"How could you!" shouted Magpie trying to free herself from the Renegade's arms, but it was useless, "You abandoned me!"

Nova looked at her strangely and then at her companions. Ruby handed her the papers. She skimmed the first page, but still didn't understand.

"Look at the second page."

The red-haired girl listened and began to read. Seconds later she covered her mouth in amazement and her eyes filled with tears.

She also began to cry.

"For years I've been waiting for you to come and get me, but you never showed up" she said in a whisper, now calmer.

"But how..." she said in a choked whisper.

"She told us the origin of her powers, or at least what she knows" Adrian replied, "She was found covered in blood with a bullet in her hand, her parents were killed and her older sister disappeared. Read well, everything is very clear."

The renegade picked up the old papers and went back to reread them more patiently, perhaps looking for some word or name that contradicted her boyfriend's words. But judging by her look of disbelief and the tears that began to fall down her cheeks, there was nothing to rule out the theory.

"Why didn't I have any idea about these papers?" asked Nova with her eyes on the sheets, although it was obvious that she was addressing her partner "How come no one remembered such information?"

Adrian looked at her for a few seconds. She, still holding her head in the air, sensed that he was looking for signs of anger. And part of it showed.

"I'm not really sure, but back then they didn't trust computers, so they used paper to file all the cases" he motioned to the mountains of paper scattered around the room.

That was the last that was heard. No one knew what to do or say, and the silence was so thick and uncomfortable that it was becoming unbearable. After a few minutes Oscar decided to give them space and leave the place together with Ruby by the hand, they were also followed by Danna, who still didn't understand what was going on.

The last to leave was Adrian. He went down to Maggie -or Evelyn, she didn't even know what to call herself anymore- and gave her a squeeze on the shoulder, as if giving her strength or a signal not to run out of the building. He walked over to Nova and cupped her face to wipe away her tears. He said something she didn't hear and kissed her on the lips before leaving the room and closing the door.

It was time to talk, but apparently none of them were willing to start. At least Urraca didn't want to.

"I don't know what to say," Nova finally spoke, she had stopped crying a few moments ago, but her voice was broken, "You have no idea how happy I am knowing you're alive."

Magpie wiped her tears and snot with her sleeve.

"I asked you something earlier, why did you abandon me, did you even look for me?"

She shook her head.

"I never looked for you" said Nova, "I didn't because I thought you were dead.... That you had been murdered that night and I couldn't protect you because..." she couldn't continue speaking because a sob escaped from her throat.

Evie grew tired of pretending to be strong. She burst into a disconsolate cry and ran to hug her sister tightly. she hugged her sister back just as tightly. at that moment they couldn't talk, she knew it, the lump in her throat barely let her breathe. She had no intention of admitting it, but the warmth of an older sister along with a strange and curious sensation it brought back an old feeling she had thought she had forgotten, one she had not experienced for years. That of being safe, of having a home.

#adrian everhart #renegades #bookblr #books #nova artino #supernova #my writing #writing #magpie #novadrian #nova #evie artino #max everhart #margaret white #wattpad #excerpt from a book i'll never write #happy ending

28 notes · View notes

ironmandeficiency · 4 years ago

Text

falcon, falcon, goose!

pairing: sam wilson / reader

word count: 3547

summary: there were reports of geese leading people to their soulmates spanning centuries, and it seemed like a cool concept, but why did it have to coincide with you coming out of your writing slump?

warnings: cursing, geese, dumbassery, implied happy au where the avengers get along, iw and endgame who?

a/n: this is an older piece i wrote a couple years ago, decided to brush it up and repost it. and the reader works for snl bc why the hell not? keep in mind that the original was written before everything went to shit w iw & endgame. posted from mobile yet again yall what is wrong w me

it was a sunny day outside, and deciding that you had been cooped up for far too long, you brought your laptop to the park a couple blocks from your studio apartment.

being a writer for saturday night live wasn't always so peachy, what with the lack of a social life outside of your co-workers and constantly explaining your job to confused relatives. you had been in a slump for the past couple weeks, the fact most of your sketch ideas not making the cut for the next episode continuing to throw you off your rhythm.

this week, you were going to change that. Your headphones were playing your concentration playlist full volume and you were hyped to the max. with your laptop on the picnic table in front of you and a warm cup of tea beside it, you were ready to blow the producers away with your next idea.

"honk! honk!"

you felt something nudge your leg, but you were too engrossed into what you were typing to care. after getting through a few more lines, it happened again.

"honk! honk! honk!"

you couldn't hear the sound but the feeling on your leg got a little bit rougher, more demanding. you moved your headphones to the side for a minute and took a moment to look around you. there was no kid running to get their ball back or any squirrels nearby that dropped a nut.

strange.

but you put your headphones back on, trying to keep your groove alive while hoping the interruptions are finished.

"HONK! HONK! HONK!" the goose honked louder, pecking at your leg harder than it had earlier.

you were getting frustrated and a little pissed. the creativity was flowing through your veins for the first time in what felt like ages and this — whatever it was — decided that today was the best day to annoy you.

you kicked your legs out with a strange flail and when you came into contact with something large and solid you nearly screamed.

"ow! motherf- oh my god!"

standing on the ground beside your table was a goose. it honked yet again with impatience (geese could do that?) and nipped lightly at your thigh closest to it. looking to the pond nearby, it was nearly an entire gaggle of the damned things.

so here was this goose honking at you and nipping at you like you were supposed to know what the hell it wanted from you.

"i don't have any bread, dumbass. go find someone else to bother." thinking it would leave if you ignored it, you turned away and continued your work.

"HONK! HONK!" it continued to honk and decided to peck you before flapping its wings, landing itself on the table next to your computer.

"get outta here, ya damn goose!" while you were trying to shop it away, it expertly evaded you. "go! shoo! leave me alone!"

it just stayed over on the bench, expertly dodging your attempts to get it to leave.

a few people nearby had heard your altercation with the infernal bird. one of them was an older gentleman that laughed as he sat across from you, the mirth in his eyes glinting as you give him a sarcastic side eye while trying to deal with the current issue.

"that bird won't leave you alone, you know." At his voice, the goose calmed down and waddled a few feet away from your arm's reach.

that was the first time the thing had been seemingly calm since he showed up at your little table.

"what do you mean he won't leave me alone?"

he pauses, part of him enjoying the irritation in your tone. he remembers someone talking to him like he was to you many years ago, and it made his heart smile at the idea of repaying the favor. "have you ever read about soulmate geese?"

"hey we're gonna go for a run, wanna join?" steve’s offer was given with a smirk. ever since reuniting with bucky, the two supersoldiers found so much humor in doing laps around sam every time they went out jogging.

it annoyed the shit out of him, the "on your left" comments from steve and the newer "on your right" jabs from bucky, but it also pushed Sam to work harder during his runs. ultimately he knew his non-enhanced body didn't stand much of a chance beating them, but he enjoyed when he was able to close the gap between their times just a little bit.

"sure, just gimme a few to eat breakfast and I'll join you guys." the blond nodded and turned back to the elevator, having woken up far earlier than sam and therefore already ate.

he hummed otis redding as he laid the bacon flat into the pan, shoulders moving along with his created rhythm while changing the grounds in the coffee filter. this was how he spent most of his mornings, barring the occasional hangovers and missions where he couldn't afford the distraction.

he ate, got dressed, and told FRIDAY to let bucky and steve know he was ready to go. h had his water bottle in hand, giving his body a pep talk in preparation for the run. they met in the common room and soon, the trio was off.

"on your left!"

"on your right!"

"oh, come on!"

he knew it was gonna happen, but for some reason it felt like it happened sooner than normal. either they were trying really hard to mess with him today, or he was off his game. but regardless, he pushed his body harder than he probably should have because when there was something obstructing his path, he didn't pause. no, he charged it straight on through and fell hard.

steve and bucky had seen this from a distance and immediately rushed to get to their friend.

sam rolled onto his back, exhausted and now in terrible pain from the fall. he closed his eyes and just let it all sink in. when he opened his eyes at the sudden foul smell flooding his nostrils, he could feel the palpitations, thinking he was about to have a heart attack.

"holy shit!" sam sat up like a rocket despite the way his body was throbbing from the fall.

the goose stared at him curiously and turned its head toward the pounding footsteps from the approaching brooklynites.

"sam! What happened?" steve was concerned, inspecting sam while bucky noticed the bird. The brunet bent down to meet the goose eye-level and was somewhat surprised that it didn't run away at the close proximity.

"did you trip the dumbass? was it your fault sam landed on his face? Huh, little guy?"

"honk! honk!"

"i thought so. good job, man." bucky pats the animal on the head gently before turning to help steve get sam off the ground.

"nothing’s broken but there's probably a sprain, can't really be sure until we get to cho." sam and bucky lift their friend from the pavement and they have no problem supporting his weight.

they began the walk back to the tower in silence. well, almost silence. there was a faint pitter-patter of tiny, webbed feet behind them that sam and bucky weren't paying attention to.

steve noticed the goose slowly waddling behind the trio and looked at sam with a smile. sam responded to steve’s happy face with a glare, not enjoying any of the situation he found himself in.

"look behind us, guys."

both men took turns looking behind them and see the goose waddling behind them patiently. sam wasn't particularly happy about the culprit from moments before trailing behind him, but bucky thought it was hilarious.

"do you know what this means?"

sam rolled his eyes because he thought the blond was about to make some sort of poetic comment about one thing for another.

bucky had paused to think about the implications of a random goose for a moment before gasping. "dude," bucky nudged sam softly, being conscious of his friend's injuries. "you’re gonna meet your soulmate, man!"

"a soulmate goose. man come on, are you out of your mind?"

"steve got his goose back during the war, i think we know enough about it."

sam had only heard vague reports of soulmate geese throughout his life, but now that he thought about it, it did make sense. the goose showed up randomly in the middle of his routine, completely throwing him off, and was now refusing to leave him alone.

"well if this is my soulmate goose, then somebody’s gotta tell tony about our newest avenger." they laughed at the implication, viciously eager to witness tony’s reaction to the newest resident of avengers hq.

it has been three days of dealing with your goose, and you were now teased at work as “bird brain”, walking into your office to see several loaves of bread covering the desk. your goose, that you had named piper once you got home, was excited at the prospect of more food, but you planned on donating most of the bread to local shelters, only keeping a couple loaves for the house.

the guest host that week was mick jagger, and he had emerged into the room “i dream of jeanie” style, startling both you and piper, who honked at him in irritation.

it was time for you to work on the song for your little sketch with him, and you had only two more days before performance night (it was thursday) to finish writing it. after settling down and getting into the right mindset, the writing process had begun.

"alright let's see," mick murmured. "let’s all go to the picnic, let's all have a drink. what rhymes with 'drink'?"

you thought for a moment and said quietly, "think?"

you weren't prepared for the absurd response you received from the man, his accent making him round mean as he barked out a loud "NO!" with an unnecessary hand gesture.

piper just about lost it. she was honking and flapping around your office in a tizzy (but staying away from mick because the man was seen as a stranger she wasn't comfortable with).

you racked your brain for another solution, something else to rhyme with 'drink' and you eventually found it: "sink?"

mick thought about it for a moment before replying with a much lighter "yes!" also paired with unwarranted pointing.

‘motherfucker, is this how you write songs?!'

thursday and friday came and went, and soon it was time for your piece to be performed by mick. du to an accidental ankle twist someone else suffered, you were forced to perform a skit live for the first time in your career. it would have been great, but there was one teensy problem: piper blatantly refused to leave your side when it was time to perform, and she would honk and bite anyone that tried to keep her from you onstage.

even poor bobby, who she had grown fond of, was taking the brunt of it. she was not allowing you to be more than a couple feet away from her, and it was almost endearing if you weren't being broadcast on national television.

apparently, piper would also be making her debut appearance on saturday night live tonight as well.

saturday had arrived, and it was sam’s day of rest. he spent the day doing the bare minimum, eating junk food and watching almost everything on netflix he could find.

he didn't stray too far from tradition, not really. it was just that now he had a goose accompanying him the entire time, honking at this and that and eating occasional pieces of popcorn that sam didn't want to share.

he didn't mind his feathered companion, he was actually quite fond of his goose at this point. whitewing (not to be confused with redwing) was the most calm goose any of them had seen, no biting or nipping and especially no honking at ungodly hours of the night.

steve was perplexed. "Are you sure whitewing hasn't done anything bad? no waking you up at night or bites when you don't feed him soon enough?"

sam would chuckle and shake his head, proud to have such a calm goose. "why are you so keen to see him misbehave? aren’t all soulmate geese like this?"

"for lack of a better word, most geese are assholes. i don't know how whitewing is so well behaved," steve balked at the very idea of all geese being so mellow and decided it was story time.

steve’s goose from the century before was the most rambunctious animal anyone had ever seen. he recounted the first and several occasions following where his soulmate goose, jimmy, fended off the blond man's alleyway attackers.

sam was extremely grateful that whitewing had less feral and goose-like tendencies. whitewing was extremely well behaved and had an almost human way about him, the way he honked in reply to sam or the rest of the team when they talked to him.

it was late in the evening when clint decided to plop down onto the couch and flick the channel to nbc, where tonight's host was mick jagger.

"why are we watching this?" sam was enjoying his sitcoms before the other bird man had showed up.

"i haven't watched it in ages, plus mick jagger is on tonight."

"alright, whatever you want."

the intro played like usual, and whitewing was perfectly complacent. they laughed in the right places with the occasional honking from the bird, and everything was great.

"hey man, look!" clint interrupted, keeping sam from being able to hear the punchline. "i think that's a goose!"

"why is there a goose? The skit has nothing to with-"

sam and clint seemed to come to the same realization at the same time as whitewing, the goose beginning to honk incessantly. he was going absolutely berserk, flapping his wings and hopping off of sam’s lap and onto the coffee table, occasionally pecking at the tv where he saw the other goose.

he was going absolutely bonkers.

"whitewing! whitewing, no! calm down!" sam scrambled to calm down his goose, but he was having none of it. the whole entire skit, whitewing was honking and flapping and being a general nuisance.

he found his soulmate.

whitewing kept at it until the screen went to a commercial, his soulmate off of the screen.

"y’know," clint spoke around a slice of pizza. when did he get pizza? "if you hurry, you could go to the studio and meet your soulmate. the show is about halfway over."

before sam could think over the proposition, tony’s voice was heard from the corridor. "somebody shut that damned bird up before I pay ramsay to cook it!"

"i’m taking care of it!"

with that, sam heads to the armory with whitewing on his tail to get his wings. once he's equipped, sam heads to the window and jumps, immediately setting his course for studio 8h and his soulmate.

you’re released to go back to your office once you finish the skit alongside mick and piper, the show almost over. you’re gathering your things lazily, knowing that you have no other responsibilities for the night.

just as you lock your office and piper is waddling beside you without a care in the world, you see kyle running towards you with a look of fear in his eyes. that fear seems to only triple when his eyes land on piper beside you.

"kyle! what’s-"

"there’s another goose on the set! no one is safe!"

wait, was he bleeding?!

you were going to try and help your friend but one look at piper sent him off the rails, the lanky man nearly falling on his ass in an attempt to skid the corner. you hoped that someone would help calm your panicked friend, seeing as you were literally the worst person for the job at the moment.

without further incident, you are able to say goodbye to cecily and mikey before you're stopped in your tracks by michael, who gives piper a funny look.

"wait, so the goose that attacked kyle wasn't piper?" You shake your head in confusion. "dude, your soulmate must have come to the set!"

piper must have either understood what your co-worker had said or she could sense a change in the studio, but she began to honk erratically and run away from you. the last thing new york needed was two feral geese running around attacking people, so you did what anyone would do and ran after her.

"piper! piper, come back!" michael laughed as you chased after your goose. while you were running, you nearly died when you heard a honk that you knew wasn't from your piper. hers were carved into your brain, and you were positive that you could pick hers out of an entire gaggle of geese, so there was indeed a second goose in the studio.

to your dismay, piper did not stop and wait, she just kept on honking and flapping and scaring people in pursuit of the other goose, poor old you having to chase her.

there was another voice you assumed was yelling at his goose since you didn't know of anyone naming their kid whitewing. your eyes were not looking straight ahead when you suddenly bumped into someone, immediately stumbling a bit before regaining your balance.

piper had stopped her honking and that scared you. did someone hurt her? was she-

her and another goose were making muted honks to each other. they sounded like affectionate honks, which is one of the weirdest sentences you ever constructed in your head. but it was true! they were cuddling close to each other and making really quiet honking noises at each other, and if that wasn’t affectionate then you didn’t know what would be.

so if piper found her soulmate, that means yours was-

"i hope comin' to your job was okay. whitewing wasn't gonna give up until I left, so here we are." your eyes were dragged from the touching scene of piper and her special goose to a pair of dark brown irises that radiated warmth and a promise of happy days.

you were absolutely dumbstruck. your mouth was unable to form coherent words, so you decided to take in the appearance of your soulmate. he was wearing a soft grey tee and sweatpants, and socks without shoes. did he realize how unsanitary the streets of new york were?

but upon further investigation, you realize that he probably didn't walk to the studio. on his back was what you would normally call a jetpack, but when you recognize the face your mind completes the puzzle: your soulmate is sam wilson, otherwise known as the falcon. holy shit.

"uh yeah of course, i guess you flew here? no sane person in new york would walk around barefoot in the street." did you really just say that?!

sam nodded and then remembered that he was in his pajamas in front of his soulmate without any shoes. "yeah, he wasn't gonna stop attacking the tv once he saw uh…"

you realized he was asking for your goose’s name, and so you hastily gave it to him.

"yeah, once he saw piper, he went wild. caused more chaos in five minutes than he did in five days!"

you laugh, the nervousness falling away as you recount the story of you first meeting with piper.

people are staring at the pajama-clad avenger and his soulmate, their geese finally satisfied. after all, it wasn't every day so many people were able to watch soulmate geese (and their people) meet for the first time.

sam gently took your hand, his thumb smoothing the skin on the back of it, just listening to you talk. you asked him a question about whitewing and he was in the middle of telling you when he cut himself off. "i just realized i don't even know your name!"

in most scenarios you’d be slightly put off by this, but you didn't have an issue because of the specific circumstances. if he weren't an avenger you wouldn't have known his either, and plus, no one really pays attention to the little rat writers. you give him your name and smile when he introduces himself, his voice even helping show off the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

with impeccable goose timing, piper and whitewing honk at you to hurry your introductions and leave the studio.

"do you want to fly back to your place , or can I drive you?" it was a risk to ask him such a question, but you were genuinely concerned. you hoped he wouldn't think you were trying to jump his bones only minutes after meeting him so you used (terrible) humor to show your intentions. "you shouldn't fly so late at night without headlights, no matter how high up you get."

sam’s laughter was infectious and soon you joined him, your geese about to get more irritated with their humans.

"yeah, I'd like that. lead the way, soulmate." piper and whitewing honk as the two of you head to the lobby hand in hand, the birds waddling behind you just as happy as soulmate geese could be.

#falcon #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson #mcu #marvel #falcon falcon goose!#sam wilson imagine #falcon imagine #bucky barnes #please don’t judge this mess

79 notes · View notes

marshmallowprotection · 4 years ago

Note

I’m in desperate need of some wholesome Saeran headcanons.

Then, let me give to you a wholesome checklist of my personal headcanons. I am willing to talk and really elaborate on these in further detail if you want me too but for now I'll just give you the basic ones. GE SAERAN!

Saeran is the little spoon. He prefers to be tucked into your arms, at first, from behind so he can all too easily get out of your arms if he needs to do it in the middle of the night. He just likes the soft feeling of your weight against his. He's also putty if you kiss his neck.

Saeran likes to hold hands, that's a given. He can always be seen tucking his hand into yours not at all minding who may see. If he's feeling a bit sure of himself, he'll often and occasionally bring your hand to lips and he'll kiss the back of your palm to see you blush.

Saeran quietly spends a lot of time learning what you like to eat without asking you outright. He's really spending a lot of time trying to guess what you like every night and he has a lot of fun doing that. You know he's doing it but you always act surprised every time he gets it right.

When Saeran is having night terrors, but he can't wake up, he appreciates it when you start petting his hair and murmuring nonsense to him. Every time he wakes up with his heart racing, it helps him to know that he's not alone and you're here with him. He needs you to help him know where he is at times, so your voice is the most grounding thing he has.

Saeran could listen to you talk for hours on end and not for a minute seem like he's uninterested. It doesn't matter if it's something that he knows alot about or not, he just likes to listen to you be passionate about something. He learned quite a lot from just listening to you. You'll be surprised at what he's picked up.

Saeran was introduced to video games by you and Yoosung after the good ending, and it takes him a while to find some he likes. He plays a lot of Stardew Valley and Animal Crossing. His are fraught with a lot of flowers and design. He's got like 300,000 hours logged into ACNH at the present time and you bet your ass he's spent a lot of time decorating things for you to come and see. He's always gifting you crafts you want and recipes you need. He is the master of breeding flowers. I don't know how he does it.

Not to play favorites, but Saeran likes Isabelle.

Saeran won't admit this, but he loves it when you dote on him. He's learning to accept kisses and hugs but it takes time for him to get to that point as hand holding was the easiest step for him. His first surprise kiss from you made his face feel so warm. He tugged on your sleeve and asked for a second kiss... perhaps a third. He's very big on his and your consent. You both ask each other before you do anything, kisses, hugs, etc, and it makes it feel alright for him to want those things because he knows you want it too.

That being said, he also has a system with you that's not on the verbal side. There are certain tiny gestures he will do to let you know how he feels and it's only known to the two of you. Like, if he nudges his hand against your shoulder or pulls at your sleeve, vice versa. That's a sign for wanting to step outside for a breather and trying to wrap up a conversation. He's really good at that sort of thing. It helps him know and quietly not feel bad about his comfort zone. He's happy that you work with him verbally and nonverbally depending on how he feels.

Contrary to norms, if you've got big sweaters or hoodies, he takes them from you. It's grounding and it reminds him that you're with him. He likes the faint smell of your perfume or your shampoo on things. When he's not with you, this is the most he can get and that's what helps him when he's at C&R during the week when he can't get things done from home.

Saeran gets along well with Jumin. The two of them actually spend a lot of time sharing their personal interests and bound over knitting and baking, believe it or not. They've often spent quite a while discussing finer points of their crafts and shared tricks and trades. Don't leave them alone for long because they've already planned so much. It's kind of sweet to see to be honest.

Same thing with Jaehee! He learns a lot more about baking with her and he's happy to be able to speak to someone who never asks or gets into his business. He didn't know coffee could be like, good without drowning it in sugar and she also taught him that. You may be relieved to see him not dump the entire pot of sugar in. He's learning, give him time.

Hm, oh, he humors Zen but the two of them are often lost in translation. It isn't intentional. Zen isn't sure how to chat with him and there's a lot of open ended conversations that wind up seeming really hilarious to everyone. Saeran still thinks he is a good guy, since he's always checking up on him and his MC.

Saeran can spend a lengthy amount of time just reading and you have to gently nudge his book shut to get him to go to bed. He pouts because he was in the middle of learning something and he and Saeyoung should both be forever known as guys who pick up something and don't stop till they master it. You have to gently remind him that he has all the free time in the world now to do things. He doesn't have to rush.

Saeran can and will teach you everything that he's learned about flowers, from herbology to language. It might go over your head but he loves to bring you flowers and make you guess what the intended meaning is. He likes to see your eyes widened and your cheeks turn red when you realize he's saying that he loves you in all kinds of ways. He's got flashcards for this too. Have mercy. He will not refrain.

Saeran is very artsy. He's actually really good at sketching and drawing and you wouldn't have known that if it wasn't for him showing you the doodles he had from staring at some flowers. He has a lot of untapped skill. He just keeps showing you every day that he is amazing. If you let him practice using you as a model, be prepared for that, he will not take his eyes off of you and you will lose your mind in the process.

Saeran hums underneath his breath when he's working and when you catch him, you often ask what he's singing. You'll never know. He does have this gallery of classical music in his mind that he listens to often because it helps him calm down and focus. He gets a little flustered when someone asks because he knows nothing about modern music! He's also thought of taking up a few instruments but... he'll need your gentle reassurance on that.

If Saeran catches you asleep in the middle of the day, he'll lay down next to you and tuck a blanket over the two of you. He has all the freedom in the world now and this is definitely how he wants to spend that freedom. Just being able to enjoy little moments like this with you mean everything because he knows that he will never take it for granted.

110 notes · View notes

sl-walker · 3 years ago

Note

Oh! I'm not sure if I'll be the first, but I'm pretty sure Maul met Tally on Christophsis after pushing Obi Wan away from an explosion, getting injured himself in the process. He woke up to find Tally doing some medic-stuff to him and pushed him away.

You are indeed the first and only. XD And yes, you're right! Tally was the medic who was trying to patch up the hole in Maul's side and Maul snatched his wrist and told him he'd take care of it himself. He wasn't named in SIOF, but in the third chapter of Blackbirds it was confirmed that he was the same guy:

“Both of the guys directly in charge of us are named after weapons,” Tango answered, emphatically, raising his arm from behind his head to gesture as the door opened. “Maul, Shiv. I mean, if you ask me, it’s an omen.”

The two shinies scrambled to their feet while Castle and Husker both stood more leisurely, and it was right about then that Tally realized that, in all likelihood, one of the two named individuals had just walked into the room. He set down his datapad and got to his feet as the rest scrambled to follow, caught off guard.

Scratch that. They had both walked in.

Maul eyed Tango, head tilted a little bit. “What if I was named for the verb?” he asked, with a seriousness that could have been real or could have been deadpan humor; it was impossible to tell. Behind his shoulder, Shiv rubbed over his face, clearly failing in his effort not to grin.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tally could see the shinies staring wide-eyed. Maybe a little terrified. Tango, on the other hand, cleared his throat, face flushed. “Sorry, sir.”

“Technically, you’re still a noun, sir,” Tally pointed out, coming to his rescue.

Maul turned his attention to Tally next. “I am a noun, but the premise is that I was named for the noun. The entire argument falls apart if I was named for the verb.”

Someone – either Misty or Brody, they were standing close together – snorted a laugh.

“Were you named for the verb, sir?” Tango asked, more tentatively, still red-faced.

“I’m not sure. Perhaps.” Maul quirked his brow, then eyed Tally again. “I know you, don’t I?”

“Yes, sir. I tried to patch a hole in your side on Christophsis and you grabbed my wrist and told me you’d take care of it yourself,” Tally answered, just a little bit dryly. "Looks like you succeeded.“

Maul gave a nod back, eyes narrowed a fraction, though it didn’t really look like anger. "I did. I thought I recognized your hair,” he said, and Tally reached up and ran a hand back over the medic's cross he’d had his hair shaved into, originally a joke and later surprisingly practical.

So, please feel free to DM me with who you'd want me to sketch a portrait of! If it's an OC, faceclaims help a lot. If it's a canon character, point me in the right direction. XD

Coincidentally, this is also the scene where Tango's crush started with a little spark which grew and grew hereafter. He had the oh no, he's hot moment there.

#tally #maul #tango #witness me

7 notes · View notes

rhys-writes-sometimes · 4 years ago

Text

Music Worth Making Part 6: Finally Free

Requested: yes actually lol

Warnings: Luke’s birthday is in this chapter, so sadness, but I think that’s it (other than bad writing of course)

Series Summery: When the reader’s life is ripped away from them, they’re distraught. But with her two best friends and three certain ghosts, maybe the afterlife isn’t so bad after all.

Chapter Summery: You and the band play at your first gig.

Word Count: 3,233

A/N: Aaaa I’m so sorry this took so long! I was in a bit of a writing slump, and then school started. Also, I was trying really hard not to cry writing Luke’s birthday scene, so I have no idea how I’m gonna get through Unsaid Emily. Anyway yeah I hope you enjoy!

______________________________________________________

“How can we die if we’re already dead?” Luke asked, locking eyes with you.

After what happened in the gym last night, you decided you needed a little time alone, to process everything. Whatever it was had scared you, badly.

You poofed into the Molina’s guest room, where Danny was staying. Wincing when you landed on your bad foot, you limped over to the window seat and sat, looking out at the street below. It was such a neighborhood. It was hard to believe that anything bad could happen here.

And yet, it had.

You gasped as the memory of the club came rushing back to you. Not the fun you had, but before that. Seeing the man who had killed you floating above the table. The Club had somehow made you forget that your host was a murderer.

Sometime around 9 am, you decided to go check on the boys. They had been hit with the jolt too, after all.

“Y/N!” Reggie called out as you appeared in the studio.

“Where’d you go last night?” Luke asked from his chair.

“I just needed some time to think.”

Luke nodded once, knowing from your tone not to pry. “Uh, hey, we were gonna go to a cafe, you wanna come?”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah sure. Sounds fun.”

Luke narrowed his eyes slightly in confusion, but grabbed your hand and teleported to the cafe.

-----

“Oh, great angle, yeah,” Reggie said as the lady snapped a picture of her food. For some reason, you, Alex, and Reggie were all sitting with this lady while Luke was standing at the counter.

“Is this what we’re here for?” Alex asked, his voice showing that he was regretting all of his life decisions. “To watch people take pictures of food?”

“It’s fun!” Reggie defended himself. “Watch this, people never stop looking at their phones.” He began to move the woman’s food around the table. She looked around in confusion before leaving the cafe. The three of you chuckled.

“Plus, Luke said something about this place being a hot spot for music industry people.”

“Boys!” Luke said, sitting down in the chair the lady had just left. He glanced at you before continuing: “and, uh, Y/N, being a ghost definitely has it’s privileges. I just wrote our names on the playlist for tonight.”

“I’m getting a little worried about him,” Alex said, speaking to you but loudly enough so that the others could hear him. “He keeps forgetting that Julie quit the band.”

“And that she’s gonna come back!” Luke protested. “Just as soon as she knows we have a great gig.”

You bit your lip. You knew how stubborn Julie was, and she was pretty mad at the boys.

“But if she doesn’t come back, let's not forget we do have somewhere else we can play,” Reggie said, noticing the look on your face. “And eat pizza.”

“Dude, I know, it was awesome to be seen by lifers at Caleb’s party-” you flinched. “-but we got this with Julie. We don’t need him.”

Pain flared through your body again, almost making you fall out of your seat. It was getting worse; it felt like being stabbed again.

“It’s that same thing again,” Alex said, rubbing his side.

“Just like yesterday!” Luke added.

“It feels like that time I was fixing my amp in the rain,” Reggie said. You stared at him.

“You shouldn’t… okay,” Alex started, giving up.

“Look, do you think something’s wrong with us?” you asked, to no one in particular.

“Yeah, yeah, we ate 10 pounds of pizza yesterday without a stomach. I’m sure it’s just our bodies working through it,” Luke said, although there was a hint of worry in his voice.

“So we’re just gonna forget about getting back at Trevor?” Reggie said, desperate to change the subject. “That jerk stole our music!”

“And he has to live with that guilt. It’s like what Julie said, we have a new band, a new sound, okay? That’s what we should be focusing on.” Luke leaned back in his chair, looking at the three of you.

Alex suddenly sat up straighter. “Isn’t that Willie?” he said, walking out the door.

Reggie smirked. “Well, someone’s not focusing on our music.” You gave a small laugh.

“Hey, Y/N, are you okay?” Luke said, leaning over the table towards you.

“Oh, oh yeah, I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now,” you said, giving him a small smile.

He leaned back in his chair, chewing his lip. He knew you weren’t being completely honest, but he didn’t push it.

-----

“We’re sorry

So sorry

We’re super-duper, crazy stupid

Sorry!”

The boys sang as Julie walked into the studio.

“In case you missed it, we’re all really sorry,” you said, walking over to her.

“Yeah, I… I got that part.”

“We’ve been here for like, three hours,” Alex said, high-fiving Reggie.

“We almost sang to your little brother.”

“He comes in here a lot. Mainly to use the bathroom.”

“It’s not our favorite part of the day,” Alex whispered.

“But, Julie, it wasn’t okay that we flaked on the dance last night,” Luke said, getting the group back on topic.

“We know we let you down,” you said, moving to stand with the boys.

“And none of us wanted to disappoint you,” Alex said quickly. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to us since we became ghosts.”

“So, in hopes that you’ll rejoin the band, we booked a new gig,” Luke said, nervously handing Julie the flyer.

“A mega important, life-changing gig,” Reggie smiled.

“Oh, okay, check it out. Tons of managers go here to listen to new bands. All we gotta do is blow them all away, and we’re living the dream.”

“So, this means a lot to you, huh?” Julie said coldly. “Kind of like how playing in front of my entire school meant a lot to me.”

“Sounds like sarcasm… I’m starting to think our plan isn’t working,” Reggie muttered to you and Alex.

“Look, we know we messed up,” Alex started.

“But, we need you in the band,” Luke finished.

“Of course you do. Because without me, no one can see you guys playing.” You looked at the ground in shame as Julie spoke. “You know, I thought that the music we were writing was special, but you’re too obsessed with your past to even care.”

“I do care!” Luke protested. “Our band has a real chance at greatness, and I’m not gonna let that get away from us again!”

“Uh-huh. Right. So then why did you bail on me to get back at Trevor? I’ll tell you why. ‘Cause there’s only one thing you care about, Luke Patterson, and that’s yourself.”

She turned and stormed out of the garage. “Y/N, are you coming?” she called out. You glanced at the boys apologetically before following your best friend.

-----

Julie sat on the couch, quietly scribbling down answers to her math homework. You sat in the chair next to her, sketching on a piece of paper you had found.

“You uh, you got a second?” Alex asked as the boys poofed in. Julie ignored them, turning on the couch so they wouldn’t be in front of her. You stared at the paper you were holding.

“Oh my gosh, she can’t see us anymore!” Reggie exclaimed. Alex gave him a look; Reggie muttered “oh.”

Alex sat on the arm of the couch. “Julie, please.”

“I already told you, I’m done with the band,” she finally spoke.

“Yeah, we know, alright? But before you decide that forever, we just… we wanted you to know that Luke isn’t as selfish as you think he is.”

“Yeah, you’ve got him all wrong,” Reggie spoke up.

Julie scoffed and went back to her homework.

“You remember that song ‘Emily’? Can we at least show you who that’s about?”

-----

You never thought you would be spying on a ghost boy, but here you were. The four of you had walked to a house not too far away from Julie’s, and were peering through the front window from a distance. Luke was sitting on the counter, his eyes red from crying, watching an older couple move around the kitchen. It was Luke’s parents house.

“So, Emily’s his mom?” Julie asked, peering out from behind a tree.

“Yeah. Yeah, Luke comes here a lot,” Alex said, crouching behind a chair.

“He thinks we don’t know but, we’ve been following him,” Reggie admitted. “All he does is just, hang out like this and watch them. They never really do anything, though.”

“They’re having cake,” you noted. “That’s something.”

“It’s a… it’s a birthday cake. For Luke.”

A tear slid down your cheek, matching the boy inside.

“I never knew Luke was hurting this much,” Julie said.

“Yeah. It’s even worse because when he died, he… left on bad terms. You know, his parents didn’t want their 17-year-old to be in a rock band, so… he just left.” Alex said softly. “He never got the chance to make up with them.”

You watched as Luke blew out his birthday candle. His parents relit it and blew it out together.

“That’s why Luke was so angry,” you guessed, tears falling freely. “If Trevor had given Luke credit for writing all the songs, then…” you trailed off.

“His parents would have known his dreams were worth chasing,” Reggie sighed.

“They would have been so proud,” Julie said, her voice breaking a little. You looked over at her and saw that she was crying, too.

Alex stood up. “We know how bad it hurts when someone that should’ve had your back… completely lets you down. We never meant to make you feel that way.”

“Julie, we love our band,” Reggie said, still crouching behind a plant. “And Luke does too. Please give us another chance.”

You looked back at Luke and his family one last time, noticing a bouquet of flowers on the island. You smiled to yourself. They were dahlia’s, Rose’s favorite.

-----

“Marching on proud

Turn it up loud

‘Cause now we know what we’re worth,” you and Julie harmonized.

Luke suddenly appeared in a chair. “Whoa,” he said as the music died out. Then he smiled. “Julie.”

She smiled back at him. “Grab a guitar. We got work to do.”

“What made you come back?”

“I realized how important music is to all of us. And we’ve lost so much already. We can’t lose this too.”

“Thanks,” Luke said quietly. Julie smiled at him. “Alright, boss, where we at?”

Julie smirked, taking pride in the name. “Oh, and by the way, happy birthday.”

Luke looked a little stunned, and he glanced at you.

“Happy birthday,” you said quietly, smiling at him.

A slight blush creeped onto his cheeks.

Julie laughed slightly. “Let’s go from the pre-chorus.”

Alex smiled. “One, two three four!”

-----

“Guys, are you sure? She’s probably just getting dressed or something,” you said as Luke, Alex, and Reggie stopped outside of Julie’s door.

Reggie smirked. “Which is why I’ll be doing this.” He stuck his arm through the door and knocked on this inside.

You heard Julie chuckle as she called out: “What are you guys doing?”

Reggie stuck his head through the door. “We’re being classy,” you heard him say. You and Alex pulled him back.

The four of you walked through the door.

“Why are you still here?” Luke asked. “We’re going in like, twenty minutes.”

Julie sighed. “I lied to my dad, so… now I’m stuck in my room all night.”

“Yeah, but, we were just at the venue! I mean it’s packed, like, VIPs, managers…” Alex trailed off. “It’s kinda crazy.”

“What are we gonna do about my aunt?” Julie asked, sighing again. “She’s right downstairs.”

Luke walked over to her window, smirking as he opened it. “You’re not taking the stairs.”

Julie shook her head slightly. “Okay. Let me get dressed. I’ll meet you guys there.”

The guys all poofed out, but you stayed behind for a minute, admiring your best friend’s room. It was just so… her.

“Y/N?” Julie asked, making you jump slightly.

“Oh, sorry, I’ll leave-” you started, but Julie cut you off.

“No, it’s fine.” She walked over to the trunk of her mom’s clothes, pulling out a leather jacket and turquoise romper.

“So,” she started. “What’s the deal with Luke?”

You felt your face go red. “Huh?” you sputtered. “I don’t-”

“Oh come on, Y/N,” she said with a smirk. “Everyone can see the way you look at him. And the way he looks at you.”

You shook your head. “Even if I did like him, which I’m not saying I do, there’s no way he would like me back.”

Julie rolled her eyes.

“Really Jules! I mean, look at me!” You gestured to yourself. “I’m a mess, inside and out.”

Julie walked over to you and let her hands hover over your shoulders. “Y/N, you are one of the most beautiful people I know. Inside and out,” she smiled.

“You really think so?” you asked.

She nodded. You smiled. “Thanks, Jules.”

“Anytime,” she said, smiling back before putting on her outfit for the night.

-----

“Next up, Dirty Candi,” announced the MC.

“Am I too late?” Julie said, rushing over to where you and Flynn were standing.

“Too early,” Flynn said, staring at the stage where Carrie was standing.

“Hope you all came to have a great time!” she said in a peppy voice.

You glanced back and forth between Carrie and Flynn a few times.

“Dirty Candi? How’d she get on the list?” Julie asked.

Flynn scoffed. “Her daddy probably made a call.”

You saw the way Flynn was staring at Carrie, trying to hide behind disgust. You smirked to yourself, but didn’t say anything.

“I like this!” Flynn said, examining Julie’s jacket. “Pretty flower.”

“Thanks. It’s a dahlia. My mom’s favorite.”

The three of you fell silent as Carrie started to sing.

“Whenever I walk in the room

All the focus on me

The way I talk the way I move

They all want on my team.”

You rolled your eyes; it was clear that Carrie was just bragging about herself. Although you had to admit, the song was catchy and the dance moves were pretty cool.

The guys appeared behind you, smiling as they watched the routine.

“The party don’t start ‘till I walk in

I’m stealing all the attention

Don’t get me started on mentions, yeah”

Suddenly Alex was on the stage. You and Reggie looked at each other in confusion, but Alex looked just as confused as you did.

He quickly got over his confusion however, and he started dancing along with Dirty Candi. You laughed at his antics, making Flynn look at you in confusion.

“Oh, it’s the guys,” you explained.

Alex poofed back off the stage.

“You having fun out there?” Julie asked him, laughter in her voice.

“It’s not my fault it’s my… it’s my feet.”

Julie scoffed, smiling at him. “Yeah.”

Alex grinned. “Put me back in, coach,” he muttered before appearing on the stage again.

You were thoroughly enjoying watching him dance around on stage, walking through Carrie and obviously having the time of his life.

When the song ended, he hopped around in a little circle. “You’re making me blush,” he said, pretending the audience was clapping for him. Four members were.

He poofed back to you guys. “I um, I was just doing that for you guys.”

“Mmhmm. You can stop smiling now,” Reggie said playfully.

“I’m not gonna lie, that was… kinda good,” Julie said.

“Yeah.” Flynn scrunched up her nose. “I forgot why I hate her so much.”

Carrie walked up to the six of you, although to her it only looked like Julie and Flynn.

“Hi girls!” she said brightly. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

Flynn turned to Julie. “Now I remember.”

“If you’re looking for Nick, he didn’t come,” Carrie said coldly.

Julie stepped up to her. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Okay, looks like we’re closing out the night with one more group,” the MC announced. “ ‘Julie and the Fat Ones’.”

You, Alex, Reggie, and Julie all looked at Luke as Dirty Candi laughed.

“Really?” Alex asked him.

“Yeah man, my handwriting sucks.”

Julie walked past Carrie onto the stage, the four of you following her.

“Uh, hi, it’s actually ‘Julie and the Phantoms’,” Julie said, her voice coming up at the end of the sentence, making it sound like a question.

“Okay,” she muttered when no one answered, and started to play the piano.

“Hearts on fire

We’re no liars

So we say what we wanna say

I’m awakened

No more fakin’

So we push all our fears away”

You joined her, appearing on stage and taking the harmony line. The crowd gasped.

“Don’t know if I’ll make it

‘Cause I’m falling under

Close my eyes and feel my chest

Beating like thunder

I wanna fly

Come alive

Watch me shine.”

Suddenly, the boys appeared too, making the crowd gasp again.

“I’ve got a spark in me

Hands up if you can see

And you’re a part of me

Hands up if you’re with me

Now ‘till eternity

Hands up if you believe

Been so long and now we’re finally free”

Julie smiled, letting you take the second verse.

“We’re all bright now

What a sight now

Coming out like we’re fireworks

Marchin’ on proud

Turn it up loud

‘Cause now we know what we’re worth”

You smiled as Luke joined you.

“We know we can make it

We’re not fallin’ down under

Close my eyes and feel my chest

Beating like thunder

I wanna fly

Come alive

Watch me shine”

The five of you launched into the chorus again, Julie taking the melody. You dropped out, letting Julie and Luke sing the bridge.

“I got a spark in me

I got a spark in me

And you’re a part of me

Now ‘till eternity

Been so long and now we’re finally free”

You smiled into your microphone as Julie nailed the high note, taking the melody of the chorus.

You grinned as the song came to an end, enjoying the adrenaline rush that came with singing in front of a crowd. You heard the crowd gasp again as the four of you disappeared, leaving Julie apparently alone on stage.

“Thank you, we’re Julie and the Phantoms. Tell your friends,” she smiled before stepping off the stage. She immediately ran over to the bar area where you and Flynn were waiting.

You all squealed as they hugged each other.

“You were incredible! Both of you,” Flynn said, beaming at her two best friends.

“Yeah we were!” Reggie said as the boys appeared.

You stood there in an excited silence for a minute more.

“Hey, hey, whoever Carrie was trying to impress is coming this way,” Luke said suddenly.

“Oh, it’s…” Julie trailed off as she turned around and saw the woman making her way over.

“She looks all business,” Alex said a little nervously.

“Wait, who should do the talking?” Reggie asked. Julie looked at him. “Oh, right.”

The woman stretched her hand out for Julie to shake. “Hi, I’m Andi Parker, and I’m-”

“Julie.” Andi Parker was cut off by Ray.

“Dad!” Julie said in surprise.

“It’s time to go.”

Tag List: @xplrreylo @ifilwtmfc @sunsetcurvej @yagorlemmalyn @caitsymichelle13 @phantompogues

add yourself to my tag list!

#music worth making series #rhys writes sometimes #jatp #jatp fic #julie and the phantoms fic #julie and the phantoms #luke x reader #luke patterson x reader #jatp x reader #julie and the phantoms x reader #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

27 notes · View notes

yourcoffindoor · 4 years ago

Text

Bulletproof Heart Pt. 3

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

AN: Without further ado, here’s part 3! Sorry if there’s any typos that I missed, I kind of speed edited this one. I have one more part planned for this series, so the end is coming up soon. Hope you enjoy!!

From city to city, crowd to crowd, the tour continued on, and you went on with the show, your unwelcome encounter with Alex only making you more tenacious, more determined to outperform every band there.

You put on an unaffected front, making it seem as if you couldn't care less that he was playing Warped tour as well. Gavin was the only band member who knew about your history, and he fluttered about you like a mother hen ready to offer comfort or homicide at the drop of a hat. He would regularly attempt to gauge your feelings, but it only served to make you withdraw deeper into yourself, denying that could ever be shaken by his presence.

But the truth was you were shaken. You were scared. Scared that you would one day see that face smirking at you from a crowd and freeze, unable to ignore a presence so heavy and halting like a storm cloud threatening a downpour.

And then there was Gerard. You hadn't seen him since your first show, but your thoughts turned toward him again and again. What must he have thought that day, when Alex forced his way between you? When you stormed off alone? If he had tried to come and speak to you since that day, you hadn't heard anything. Did he think that there was still something left between you and Alex?

It was that thought that caused the most pain every time it crossed your mind, and you hated yourself for it. At night when you were alone your thoughts went around and around in the same infuriating cycle, from not caring what anyone had to think about you, to anxiously wondering if Gerard had someone else he was sharing that crooked smile with. You never let the words cross your mind or leave your lips, but your heart beat constantly with the hopeful thought: Please don't think that I could have feelings for anyone else.

Meanwhile, the Parties never ended--in fact they seemed to grow in boisterousness, picking up attendees like a tornado gathering wind. Your band mates went every now and again to socialize, but They held no value for you. Primarily because the chance of running into Alex was far too high-- You knew he would never miss an opportunity to get shit faced, and he would probably be skulking around in hopes of seeing you there, ready to latch on and torment you further. But beyond that, the chance of running into Gerard was likely to be less than zero.

That didn't stop your band mates from encouraging you to loosen up, hoping to pop the contemplative bubble that you'd encased yourself in for weeks.

"I'm gonna head out. What are you up to tonight? You should take a break from everything." Gavin suggested before heading out one night, despite knowing full well you'd die before you'd agree.

"I'll find something to keep me busy."

"I'd tell you to come with, but I know a certain someone you're crushing on won't be there."

"Oh really?" You flipped through a book on the table in front of you, playing dumb and failing miserably at it. "I do not know to whom you are referring."

"Yeah poor guy. Frank told me that there's too much pressure to drink here, so he's always in the bus alone. Bored. Desperate for human contact."

You gave Gavin the side-eye. "Alright alright, we get it."

He laughed. "Their bus is five down on the left. Y'know, if you feel like it. Thank me later." He said, darting out the door before anything could be thrown at him.

You rolled your eyes and flipped through the book, trying to read and forget the information that was just dropped in your lap. You remembered when you and Gerard had last spoke, how shy he looked when he attempted to invite you over before being cut off by Alex's sudden arrival.

Maybe a quick stop wouldn't hurt, you thought to yourself. He was in the middle of asking me to anyway...

Before you knew it you were on your feet, flinging on a jacket and taking a step outside. It would be the nice thing to do after all, since he can't leave the bus...

It took a bit of searching, but you finally found a bus with My Chemical Romance painted on its side in large black letters. Your heart did its familiar flutter as you walked up to the door, raising your hand and giving a rapid succession of knocks.

You heard a slight shuffle from inside, and after a few moments Gerard answered, his face changing from one of confusion to a soft smile as he shook the hair from out of his eyes.

"I hope this isn't a bad time," you said sheepishly, "I was told I could find some good comics here."

He flicked his spent cigarette to the ground, blowing smoke from the corner of his mouth. "Is there ever a bad time for comics? Come on in."

You followed him inside, and he stopped suddenly. "Aw shit." he muttered.

"What is it?" you asked, concerned.

"I just realized we're fucking slobs."

He wasn't wrong, you observed with a laugh. The interior of the bus was divided into piles of organized chaos; clothes tossed into piles on the floor and empty chairs, makeup left open and scattered amongst soda cans by every available counter space. A few stray guitars sat soundless, happily resting until their next performance.

Gerard was obviously a bit embarrassed by the state of the place, as evidenced by the faint red blush that clouded over his nose and cheeks.

"Yeah, so its not exactly Buckingham Palace in here..." he joked, one hand anxiously running through his dark hair. His bashfulness only endeared him to you further.

"Well my bus actually IS Buckingham Palace, and it looks just about the same so don't feel too bad."

"Perfect. Anything to make you feel more at home." He mused, relocating some crumpled clothes from a small sofa nearby. "Have a seat, your majesty."

"I haven't seen you around in awhile." You noted as he hastily shoved things into cupboards.

"I've basically turned into a hermit when I'm not performing. Since I can't step outside without seeing a bottle, I don't really have much choice."

So Gavin was telling the truth. Hm.

"Well, the hermit lifestyle is probably underrated anyway."

He laughed softly. "Oh for sure. And I'll show you whats been keeping me busy this whole time."

Gerard shuffled to the back of the bus for a moment before returning with an armload of comic books, laying them proudly on the table in front of you. "These are some of my current favorites," he began after taking a seat beside you, close enough for you to admire the look of sheer happiness in his expression as he spoke. He was clearly in his element. "This one here has some of the best coloring I've ever seen."

You must have stared at him for a bit too long because he caught your affectionate glance and paused.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," you said, immediately breaking eye contact as heat flooded your cheeks. "Its just nice to hear you talk about them. You're so passionate about it."

He laughed. "Well its also nice to talk about them with someone who gets it."

You felt like you could fly right out of your skin. Everything about him made you feel a sense of belonging that you hadn't found with anyone else before.

"Hey when do I get to see that comic you said you were working on? I think you mentioned that the last time I saw you."

"Oh you remembered! Uh, one sec, I'll pull it out."

He wandered back into the unknown void that was his bunk, and came back with a folio filled to the brim with concepts, sample panels and character sketches.

"I'm pretty proud of this. Its a work in progress so uh...be gentle."

You knew Gerard was talented, but you were taken aback at the skill and creativity that had gone into this endeavor. Here he had created a world entirely his own and you were drawn in immediately.

"Gerard this is fucking fantastic! Seriously I need a full length comic right now."

"Right now? I'd rather talk to you."

You and Gerard talked as if you'd known each other forever. You found him to be witty and charming, but most importantly sincere; and the conversation flowed with ease.

"You know I'm a little surprised. I wouldn't have expected a guy like you to be alone in his bus on a big tour like this."

He laughed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean there's a lot of bands here that seem like they're only motivated by the attention they can get from girls. You're not like that."

"Its never been about that for me. I find those guys just as annoying as you do." He paused for a moment, hesitating as if he was unsure if he should continue. "Speaking of annoying...That guy, Alex--"

"Oh, yeah, sorry about him. I didn't even know he was gonna be on this tour since I haven't spoken to him in ages. I'm doing my best to avoid him."

"You seemed pretty upset when I saw you last. Just wanted to make sure he wasn't bothering you or anything."

You paused for a moment, replaying his words in your head to process them. Gerard not only noticed your reaction to Alex, he remembered and was concerned?

"So you guys aren't like...a thing anymore?"

"NO," you said a bit too eagerly. "I mean no, definitely not. I'd have to be crazy."

"Good," he replied softly, "I mean, I'm glad as long as you're happy."

You realized you had been making eye contact with his lips, the pair of you inching closer to each other with every syllable.

Your breath slowed, and you tucked a strand of stray hair behind your ear. "And...there's no one that you're involved with?"

"No," he confirmed without missing a beat, "but there is someone I have in mind."

If there was a speed limit for heartbeats, you would have been violating the law. Your next words came out almost as a whisper. "And who would that be?"

Hazel eyes flashing, Gerard cupped the side of your face with one hand, and you instinctively moved closer to meet his lips. The kiss felt like it was part dream, too good to be true as endorphins flooded your veins, a heat kindling in your stomach. You couldn't begin to tell if it lasted seconds or minutes, but still when your lips parted, it felt too soon.

"Oh." was all you could say, and the pair of you merely grinned, satisfied to be silent in the aftermath.

You caught a glance at your watch. 1:05 AM.

"I can't believe I have the willpower to do this," you began reluctantly, "but If I don't head back now I'll end up living here."

"I don't see the problem." he remarked, and you punched him in the arm.

"Thanks for a great night." you pecked him on the cheek, and before he had time to react, you jumped up and made your way towards the door.

"Come back anytime for more talk about comics!" he called after you with a laugh.

Your cheeks were buzzing and a warmth spread through your veins, giddy from your night with Gerard. You paused outside of your bus door, taking a deep breath to try and steady your heartbeat. You didn't want to rouse any suspicion from your band mates-not yet anyway. You just wanted to keep this moment to yourself for awhile.

After you cooled down, you quietly opened the door, hoping nobody would notice you sneaking in and that you could hop straight into your bunk. Instead you were met with Gavin and Liz sitting down on the sofa, looking very concerned.

"Hey," you said with hesitation, "Everything alright?"

They shared an uncomfortable look.

"Y/N, I'm not sure how to put this..." Liz began, fumbling with her fingers in an attempt to find the right words.

"What's going on?" you felt the blush from only moments ago drain away into cold dread.

"Its Alex," Gavin explained, "He and his band have been going around with a camera getting girls to flash them in exchange for backstage passes..."

You rolled your eyes. "So he's still trash. What does this have to do with me?"

"Well, the thing is, he's been telling people he has video of you. And him. Together. And that its gonna be included with the rest of the fucked up footage they're recording."

Your pulse started racing, erasing your giddy buzz from only moments before. You slumped into the nearest chair, trying to gather your thoughts.

"I never even knew I was being filmed..." you said softly. Nausea bubbled in your stomach as you were unwillingly dragged back into your intimate memories, a place you had successfully moved on from in recent years but whose impact you could never truly erase.

"Are you ok?" Liz asked, her voice low and gentle as though she was afraid you were about to shatter. Those words were all you needed to be set off.

"No. No I'm not fucking okay." You stood up suddenly from your chair, pacing. "Do you know how hard it was to leave that situation? Do you you know you much I struggled to make a life an a name for myself? How I had to rebuild myself after him? And now this?" You were shaking, your voice trembling with pent up emotion. "This was supposed to be an amazing, once in a lifetime experience. The beginning of everything for us. So why can't I just be left the fuck alone!"

Your band mates called after you as you stormed to your bunk, pulling the curtains tight behind you and burying your face in your pillow. For the first time in a long time, you let yourself break down, your unhindered sobs turning your pillow into an ocean.

#gerard way fanfic #gerard way x reader #gerard way imagine

89 notes · View notes