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inknopewetrust · 4 years ago

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Hey, I was wondering if i could request either javier peña or din djarin ship/x reader oneshot type thing? Mostly just (one of) them comforting reader who has really low confidence and doesn't believe they are good at anything. x x

Little Miss Perfect

Pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

Word Count:1.3k

Warnings: language. Don’t doubt your abilities loves–you are more than capable of doing anything you set your mind to.

A/N: thanks for the request Anon! Sorry for the long wait, these things just take a bit of time! Ah, how I missed writing for Javi. Did you know Javi was the first character that mustered up a following for me on here? Now, nearly 1000 followers later, here I am still writing for him. I felt this request would work best with him :)

“Shit!”

It was either the loud yell or the slamming of the telephone that caught Javi’s attention, he wasn’t sure which had come first. At the desk across from him, Steve sat disengaged from your internal struggles that were beginning to bleed out into the small office you all shared and diagonal from him, you had your head being cradled by your hands in frustration.

Javier kicked Steve’s shin from under the desk and with an audible “ow,” Steve gave Javier a look of disdain. The thumb pointed in your direction changed his demeanor from one of annoyance to one of concern.

“You alright, L/n?” Steve set down the report he had been reading to focus his attention onto you, but you didn’t look him in the eyes to answer, just mumbled a barely heard:

“No.”

He didn’t push any further, but it had to have been something serious to have you react in a way that made Javier concerned. If there was anything to know about you, it was that everything you ever did–whether it be work, play, or what not, you always put in 100% effort. When the reactions to your work were less than spectacular, a depression-like slump followed because it wasn’t what you were hoping for. You strived to have your superiors and partners know that you were the best person for the job and when you failed on occasion, it stung like a sting from a hornet.

“No... No, I’m not alright. I’m not fucking alright!” The burst came out of nowhere and startled the two men. It got even worse when you rose from the seat and practically ran out of the office with your jacket, the chair spinning rapidly in your wake.

“What the fuck was that about!?” Steve asked Javier with an exasperated gaze, but Javier didn’t know the answer. He thought he could deduce the reaction to the problem, except he was never certain in his abilities to read your physical reactions. Neither man readied themselves to follow immediately. Though after a few minutes, it was Javier who made the effort to find you and get to the bottom of your obvious despair.

Not in the courtyard and not in the smoking room. There was no sign of you in the file room, printing room, with the CIA guys and gals, or with Noonan. Based on Noonan’s dismissal of Javier, Javi was sure the conversation that was had between the two of you is what made you so upset.

It wasn’t until he got down to the bottom floor and into storage that he smelt the distinct smell of camel cigarettes filled his senses and he followed it down the dimly lit aisles of boxes filled with completed files. Down the one labeled G-J, you were sat against the rack with a few burnt cigarettes on the ground. Javier’s footsteps were not quiet, so you knew he was there when he turned down the aisle.

“Come to gloat for Carrillo? He fucked us all over.”

“It’s not your fault we didn’t catch him alive.” Javi told you and sat down across from you. One of his legs bent up towards his body and the other stretched out just enough where it rested itself on the other side of your foot. You handed the cigarette out to him which he gladly took from you.

“It’s always on my account. Noonan always thinks it’s my fault and I just can’t convince anyone that I’m good at this. Every time we get close to catching one of them, they die or go MIA or I don’t know... fly off to Mars.”

“Mars? Shooting a little high there, don’t you think?” The smirk on his face was welcoming but you were still angry at that fact that everything you did was never good enough for the DEA.

“Why don’t they get angry at you and Steve? Why is it always me?”

“You think you’re the only person who gets chewed out around here?” You shrugged at him but the foot that had been resting beside yours tapped it harshly. You looked at Javi with a helpless face.

“Noonan isn’t a field agent. She doesn’t understand why Carrillo made the call, but he shouldn’t have. That was your member to catch.”

“And it’s my fault that he’s dead!?”

“I didn’t say that.” Javier handed the cigarette back to you and you took a long, much needed drag before restarting the conversation.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to be ridiculous about it.”

“You’re not being ridiculous. Not many women would have the gall to even take up a field job here and let alone be good at it. Noonan’s position was handed to her... she doesn’t know what we’re dealing with out there.”

“But it doesn’t mean that she isn’t right. Every time I got a lead something would happen to change the course. That isn’t what they look for in agents so what is keeping me here? Optics?”

Javier shook his head and furrowed his brows. Since the moment you stepped off the plane in Colombia, you’ve been nothing but a valuable asset to their efforts in catching Escobar. Every piece of information that you provided was essential and that is why they had put you on Gustavo Gaviria’s case in the first place. If it weren’t for Carrillo, you would have had him in American handcuffs right now but operations weren’t easy when five different departments of justice are fighting the same fight. You were a brilliant co-worker, a great person, and more than capable to be here working with him and Steve.

“Don’t say that...you are one of the best agents we have.”

“Not everyone thinks that way, Javi.”

“Well I do, and I know Steve does too. Plus, the CIA guys and the girls that work in the office, they know how hard you work. AND! I’ve never seen a woman kick as much ass as you do when we go out on the field. Anyone who doubts a woman who has no qualms about holding a gun to your head should be terrified in their assumption.”

You scoffed but it was enough to draw a little smile at the corner of your mouth so Javier knew he was getting somewhere. He was cracking the façade even if some of those thoughts would return from time to time. It wasn’t often agents were praised for their good work, so he took the chance to do it for you in a moment of need.

“Do you remember the night we had to survey the bar where there was that shootout?” You nodded in remembrance and he continued with a story that you could have predicted.

“You were the only one to think of-”

“I know, I know.” you shrugged off the surging compliment of a good days work but Javier shook his head and laughed. It was a laugh of sheer lack of understanding as to why you wouldn’t want to hear compliments.

“You deserve to be recognized for your work. Noonan might not see it but we all do here. Here is where it matters and on the field and when you go home at night and see the positive impacts on the news. When this is all over and you return to the States, wherever you end up, those people are always going to remember you for the good deeds you’ve done here.”

“You’re a good man, Javi. You know that right?”

There was a shared, true smile between the two of you in that moment.

“I think some people would disagree but if you say so, then I’ll think it.”

“I’ll remember that mantra the next time I don’t think I belong here.”

With that, Javier helped pick up the burnt nubs of cigarettes from the floor and together you returned to the office where you would help make a difference and remember that the two people who matter most to your job thought of you as essential to the process. For that, you would be forever thankful for.

#Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x oc #pedro pascal x you #javier peña #javier peña one shot #javier peña imagine #javier peña x reader #javier peña pairing #javier pena x you #javier peña x you #narcos fanfic #Narcos Netflix #narcos

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k7l4d4 · 3 years ago

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Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 6 Part 1

Hello, and once again, welcome back to Midnight Striga!! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!

“And now… to test it!” Eda cried, feeding a smidge of magic into the Lacrima sitting before her. In a burst of flames, she was sent flying into the wall, a pained groan clawing its way out of her throat. A crazed grin crossed her face. “Fire! Nice! That’s 163 down, 474 to go!” She cheered, hastily scribbling the results down on a piece of paper detailing the Lacrimas in her store. Carelessly tossing the Lacrima into the appropriate pile, she started sifting through her pile, hoping to find something interesting. “I’ve already managed to identify at least 13 specific types, wonder how many more I got?” She muttered to herself. She reached for her bottle of Appleblood for a swig, only to swipe at empty air. Glancing up, she met Luz’s unimpressed gaze, holding her Appleblood just out of reach. “You mind giving that back?” She asked, annoyed at the interruption.

Luz scowled. “Yeah, no. You’ve had way too much of this stuff.” She stated, a pointed look aimed at the kitchen, where at least 10 bottles lay emptied inside. Spotting the list of recorded Lacrimas and types, Luz’s eyes widened in shock. “Holy HELL Eda! When did you sleep!?”

Eda opened her mouth, paused, and awkwardly scratched her cheek. “I don’t have to answer that.” She finally said, evasively glancing to the sides.

Sighing, Luz plopped herself down from across the older Witch. “Eda, I get that you’re hurting. But trust me, running from this is just going to hurt you.” She looked up, naked grief burning in her gaze. “Believe me, I’ve been there.”

Eda gave a bitter snort. “Oh really? You’ve been betrayed by your family, cursed by someone you trusted, respected even!, and left to rot by society? Well color me surprised.” Eda sarcastically remarked, spite apparent in her tone. Her bitterness briefly fell away, however, when a thought came to her. “And weren’t you supposed to be watching Hooty and King while King was practicing?”

Luz huffed. “Pfft! They’ll be fine!”

King panted, dropping to his knees, the crude spear clutched in his paws trembling. He glanced up at his foe, scowling in anger. Hooty loomed over him, his long, wiry body coiled around multiple boulders he had suspended in the air; boulders that King now knew from PAINFUL experience could be willfully hurled like a slingshot. Forcing himself to his feet, King pointed his weapon at Hooty, screaming, “IS THAT ALL YOU GOT? YOU REJECT WORM TURKEY!!!!” With a savage battle cry, the two demons leapt back into the fray, bloodlust burning in their eyes.

“Yeah, they’ll totally be fine.” Luz repeated, blissfully unaware of the carnage going on out in the clearing she had left the two to practice in.

“I’m surprised you aren’t a mess yourself, Miss ‘My Sister Was a Hostage For My Cooperation Who I Thought Was Dead But May Actually Be Alive.’” Eda snidely stated, earning her a frosty glare from her roommate.

Luz sighed, seriously wishing they weren’t having this conversation right now. “I,” She began, pointing to herself. “Am Compartmentalizing at the moment. Does the information that my sister may be alive hurt me? Oh, absolutely. But I’m aware enough of my limits not to do something stupid, and am planning on putting the screws to Oroboros anyway. Forcing myself to panic and scramble won’t help me, and it won’t help her, if the info turns out to be true.” She finished, pain filling her eyes. Her gaze sharpened, pushing through the hurt. “But what’s important right NOW… is the fact that you avoided going to sleep, and are drinking this early in the morning while running magic experiments!” She glanced over the spread of Lacrimas, bewildered. “What were you even doing with all these anyway?” She asked.

Eda shrugged, lifting the Lacrima she’d most recently selected upwards for Luz to see. “Testing these to see what they can do.” She blithely stated, moving to do just that. Luz’s eyes shot open in panic. With a yelp, she whipped the Lacrima out of Eda’s hands. “Hey! What was that for!?” Eda demanded, holding her lightly stinging fingers.

Sighing in relief at the in-tact shard of magic in her hands, Luz carefully set it in what she gathered was the sorted pile. “That,” She said, pointing to the Lacrima. “Is an Explosion Lacrima. If you had tested that, it would’ve blown you to pieces, and considering its proximity to the other Lacrimas, would’ve taken the house and most of the clearing with it.” She stated, somehow managing to keep her panic out of her voice, even as Eda paled at the implications of what had almost occurred. Luz turned an accusing stare towards Eda. “This is what I mean! If you wanted to know about what these Lacrima were, you could’ve just asked me! But instead you snuck down here and proceeded to haphazardly test them without any kind of safety precautions!! I mean, I get your all about independence and inherent limitlessness of magic and all, but that was reckless, even for you. What. Is. The Problem?” Luz demanded, eyes hard.

Eda’s gaze fell to the table, her nails gouging into the wood. “I trusted her.” She whispered. “For all that we didn’t get along anymore, for all that she worked for Bonehead and I hated him and her attempts to bring me in, I still trusted her. And she’s part of the reason I’m such a pariah, the reason I can’t even live in town! She took my trust… and she stomped on it.” Tears fell to the wood, a look of desolation and pain stretched across her face. She turned to Luz, a look of hopelessness scrawled across her face. “How do I even deal with that!?”

Luz looked on levelly. She understood, she honestly did. While she herself may not have felt the particular emotions Eda was dealing with, she was incredibly familiar with the loss, confusion, and hurt that came from internal conflict. “Well, the first thing you gotta do is ask yourself this: do you still love your sister?”

Eda reeled back, appalled. “What kind of question is that!? She’s my sister! Of course I still love her!” She exclaimed, gesturing wildly.

“But she betrayed you and has been lying to you for years.” Luz evenly pointed out.

Eda snorted. “Yeah kid, I’m aware of that. I haven’t forgiven her for it, I probably never will!” She said, throwing up her arms in emphasis, before she continued, her voice softening. “But she’s still my sister. She’s still the girl who looked out for me as a kid, even if she has been acting like a pompous windbag for years. Am I hurting? Yes. But I know she is too. I don’t need to hold it any further against her than that. I just want my family to stop hurting over it all.”

“Well, my best advice for you is to get some rest and deal with this one day at a time.” Luz said gently. “It may not seem like much, but getting proper rest should do wonders for helping you process this and figure out how to go forward.” She shrugged. “It did with me at least.”

Eda gave Luz a misty smirk. “Since when are you the adult here?” She jokingly questioned, hands folding over her chest. As she felt a familiar sensation brush against her arm, she froze. Ignoring Luz’s inquiring look, Eda roughly pushed up her sleeve, the both of them turning pale at the sight of feathers popping up along her arms. “Crap!” With a shout, Eda rushed for her cupboards, hastily throwing them open, Luz following her lead with the cabinets and drawers. There wasn’t a single potion left in the house. Eda buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I forgot to stock up!”

“Well, do you have somewhere you can get more!?” Luz frantically questioned. Eda shot her a look that screamed ‘duh, are you serious?’ Luz sheepishly cringed. “Okay, yeah, you probably do.”

Eda nodded tersely. “Yeah.” With a gesture, she called her staff to her, Owlbert briefly cuddling up against her cheek before solidifying into wood. “Let’s get going before I go full Owl Beast in here.”

Luz gave a sharp jerk of her head, aimed in the direction of where King and Hooty were practicing. “Do you think they’ll be okay?”

Eda gave a mostly nonchalant snort. “Those two? They’ll be fine. Hooty’s more than strong enough to look after himself, and this place, and King isn’t a helpless little fuzzball anymore.” She stated, giving Luz a proud grin, one she happily returned. With that settled, the two leapt onto the staff, taking off into the air.

As they landed in town, Luz instantly took notice of the whispers. Everyone was huddled around, shooting one another furtive looks. Uneasiness rippled through the city, clinging to every group they passed. Luz was painfully aware of the stares she got, the fear and suspicion. She fought the urge to pull in and hunker against the voices, the accusations she just knew were building. A hand on her shoulder caused her to shoot her gaze up, Eda’s awkwardly comforting face filling her vision.

“Hey, just ignore them, okay? They don’t know you.” She said soothingly, rubbing Luz’s shoulder. “I’ve had to deal with it myself plenty of times. We kicked a hornet’s nest the other day, and now people are waiting for it to sting. They’ll be on edge, you might even get a few of the angrier idiots trying to yell at you, but they’ll come around. Eventually.”

Luz gave her a shaky grin, appreciative of the support. “Thanks Eda. It means a lot.” Eda gave her a jerky nod. As they wandered deeper into the city, they brushed by a group of school-age kids, including Amity and that girl who’d been burned that first day at Hexside. The group paused, turning to look at them, uncertain whispers kicking up. Luz was honestly surprised at how little it bothered her.

As they came to a fairly innocuous looking storefront, Eda began roughly pounding on what Luz assumed was the service counter. “Open up Morton! I’ve got an emergency, and I need potions, stat!” She shouted, her fist echoing loudly against the wood.

Thumps and shouts could be heard coming from the other side, before the shutters opened, a sickly seeming Witch poking through. “Oh, sorry Eda. I was up testing poisons last night and I haven’t been feeling too well. You said you’ve got a potion emergency?”

While Luz desperately wanted to comment on him testing Poisons on himself, she was rapidly growing accustomed to the lack of care to personal safety the Isles seemed to possess in regards to its Citizens. Still, Eda seemed to trust this guy, so she wouldn’t say anything. Eda nodded sharply, pulling out a sack of snails. “Yeah. I’ve got the usual payment, so make it snappy.” She barked, roughly sliding her payment across the counter.

Morton sucked in a hissing breath, a look of regret filling his face. Eda and Luz’s own faces dropped at what they expected to come. “I’m sorry, but I’m out of Curse-Suppressant Potions at the moment. Well, I’m nearly out, I should say.” He softly admitted.

Eda slammed her hands against the counter. “Then give me what you’ve got! I don’t even care if you take the entire payment, I need potions now!!” She said frantically, a feverish look burning in her eyes.

Solemnly, Morton pulled out a single potion, the bottle visibly only half full. At Eda’s crestfallen expression, Morton shook his head. “I’m sorry, but that’s all I have left.” He remorsefully confessed. Biting his lip, he slid the potion over, along with the payment, drawing a surprised look from the two. At Eda’s look of shock, he glanced up, a surprising amount of steel in his eyes. “It wasn’t right what your sister did, and it wasn’t right for the Emperor’s Coven to lie about what happened. A lot of people are in your corner at the moment, Eda, and I’m one of them.” He gave a firm nod, pushing the potion closer.

Eda gave a faint smile, gratefully pocketing the Potion and her purse. “Thanks Mort, you’ve always been a good one.” Her grin turned cheeky. “When your not doing something stupid like testing poisons on yourself, that is.” She and Morton shared a laugh, Morton’s sounding embarrassed but unhurt.

Morton’s gaze turned to Luz, his eyes widening. “Oh! You’re that human girl!” He exclaimed. “Wait here!” He ducked down, rummaging sounds audible as he looked through his stocks. Popping back up, he slid two bottles over. “Here, a one-time only gift, on the house. A specialty poison that obstructs magic, and a pain-relief potion I made on the sly.” He gave her a cheerful wink. “I heard what you said about that group, and what they did to your family. If you’re with Eda, then you’re a good person, as far as I’m concerned.” He folded his arms, growing stern. “But don’t expect any more charity. I do have a business to run, okay?”

Eda barked out a laugh. “HA! Don’t worry Mort, we’ll be fine. But, I’m sorry to say,” She held up the bottle. “This will barely hold me over for half a day, if that.” She and Luz exchanged worried glances.

Morton gave a rueful nod. “Yeah, that’ll probably be bad.” He scratched his chin, before snapping his fingers. “I think I might know someone who can help you!” His expression shifted into one of worried thought. “But it’ll be pretty dangerous.”

Eda raised an eyebrow, before her eyes widened in realization. “Oh no, don’t tell me-”

“Yup.” Morton replied, looking grave. “The Night Market. Specifically, a guy called Grimm Hammer. He probably has what you need.”

Eda cursed. “I hate the Night Market.” She growled, giving her thanks as she led herself and Luz away from Morton’s shop. “That place is seriously scummy, even for me.”

Luz raised an eyebrow. “Hmm, let me guess, Black Market? Illegal goods and services that would bring the law down like a hammer on ripe fruit?” She guessed, clarifying at Eda’s confusion at the term she used.

Eda snorted. “Exactly.” As the two strolled along, deep in thought about their next move, a finger slowly reached out from a nearby shadow, grasping for Eda’s arm. Luz shrieked at the sight.

#the owl house #fairy tail #owl house au #fairy tail au #owl house crossover #fairy tail crossover #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #king the owl house #hooty the owl house #morton the owl house #magic

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silver-wield · 4 years ago

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On Edge

As the city of Edge expanded out and around them, Cloud and Tifa spend their days building up both Seventh Heaven and Strife Delivery Service. It was hard work and an occasional thankless task, but they persisted because it was also a labour of love.

After Barret left on his quest to find purpose in his life, leaving Marlene in their care, things quietened down for the longest time, until Cloud brought home a young boy called Denzel he'd found wandering around the ruins of Aerith's church. He'd contracted Geostigma, a fatal and highly contagious disease, but that didn't stop Tifa from welcoming him into their home.

A few nights after Denzel's arrival during a slow point in service, Tifa overheard a few locals talking about a shady network, a black market, that seemed to appear from nowhere. The person pulling the strings had everyone at their beck and call and no one could explain how. Standing at the far end of the bar, pretending to rinse a glass out, Tifa's eyes widened as she heard a name she thought she'd never hear again. Don Corneo? She glanced at the two barflies from the corner of her eye. Labourers, the pair, they came in at the end of every week to celebrate a job well done. Reliable sorts, so she knew she could trust what they said. Wonder if Cloud knows? She looked at the clock. He'll be back soon. With a nod to herself that it could wait until she saw him in person, Tifa turned back to serve her customers with a warm smile and cold drinks.

~*~*~

“Hey, Cloud! You're back!” Denzel beamed up at him, as Cloud came through the doors.

Tifa came out from behind the bar carrying four plates. “Just in time for dinner,” she said to him. “Everybody wash up first.” She looked from Cloud to Denzel and then Marlene, who nodded. As Cloud passed her, she added, “There's something we need to talk about, but not with the kids around.”

Cloud paused and frowned. “Okay...”

Head tilting as she watched him go, Tifa also frowned. He sounded worried. Does he know about Corneo already? Maybe I shouldn't bring it up. I'm sure Cloud can handle it. Deciding not to poke a hornet's nest when she didn't need to, Tifa put the dinner down and went to grab cutlery.

Dinner passed in a haze of pleasant chatter about everyone's day. Denzel asked Cloud as many questions about work as he could think of, but often his one word answers weren't enough so Tifa filled in the blanks. Marlene showed Cloud her arithmetic book and bragged about becoming an accounts clerk for the bar.

“You've got a patient teacher,” he said to her, looking at Tifa.

“Only sometimes,” she replied in a teasing tone.

Cloud ducked his head a little and said, “Hoo boy.”

After dinner, Denzel felt well enough to play outside for a while, so he and Marlene went out with strict instructions to return before the street lights came on.

Cloud gathered up the empty plates and took them over to the sink where Tifa already had the water running. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

Lost in thought, it took a moment for Tifa to hear his question. Then, she glanced up at him. “Hmm? Oh, it's nothing now.”

Cloud's brow creased as he began to pout. “Right...” He put the plates in the sink and turned away. “Guess I'll be in the office.”

Is he upset? “Cloud?” Tifa put her hand on his upper arm, stopping him from leaving. “Is something wrong?”

Cloud shook his head. “No. It's just I thought you wanted to talk and now you don't. It's fine.”

It doesn't sound fine. Sighing, Tifa took a step closer to him and laid her forehead against his back. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you.”

Cloud placed his hand over Tifa's. “It's fine. I'm not upset.” He fell silent for a long moment, then drew in a deeper breath before saying, “If something's wrong you can rely on me. You're not in this alone.”

Tifa smiled and wrapped her arm around his waist. “I know.”

“Then, tell me what's the matter?”

Chuckling, she realised some wires crossed in their conversation. We can work on that. Moving around to face him, Tifa said, “It wasn't anything the matter with me. I heard Don Corneo's still alive and I was going to ask you about it, but then I thought what if you were already handling it?” She bowed her head, adding, “I didn't want to assume you hadn't heard. You're out in the world more than I am.” Waiting in silence to see what Cloud would say, Tifa was surprised when he put both hands on her shoulders. She looked up at him. “Huh? You're smiling?”

“Doesn't matter,” he replied, pulling her into his arms and holding her close. “I hadn't heard about Corneo,” he continued, speaking in a low voice, “but I can deal him if you want.”

Would he eventually bother them? Tifa wasn't sure. He only came after Avalanche because Shinra posted a reward. If the rumours were true, only the Turks and a few loyal administrative staff remained. Reeve reappropriated much of the company and turned it into the WRO: the World Regenesis Organisation, dedicated to protecting and preserving the planet and its people. But what about the regular people down on the ground? The WRO's focus is rebuilding. Should we really leave a threat like Corneo running around without check? “I don't know,” she murmured. “What do you think?”

“You're always saying we should get to know the neighbours.”

Tifa giggled. “That's not exactly what I had in mind when I said that, but it works.” She looked at him and smiled. “Want some help?”

Cloud nodded. “Sure, why not?”

~*~*~

It wasn't hard to run Corneo to ground in a newer part of Edge than where Cloud and Tifa lived. His tastes were just as overblown and ridiculous as Tifa remembered. “How did he even find all these materials?” she wondered, as Cloud rang a doorbell.

“I can guess, but you won't like it,” he replied, scowling.

Tifa shuddered. “Reeve would be impressed with his procurement skills, but not his methods.”

“Hmm.”

The door opened and a man with a scar running down his face poked his head out. “What?”

“Here to see Corneo,” Cloud said, placing one hand on the hilt of his sword. “We don't have an appointment.”

“Get lost.” As the door began to close, Cloud drew his sword and jammed it into the gap.

“Ah! Get lost!”

“Tifa.”

“On it.” Tifa grabbed the door with both hands and pulled. The man lost his grip and it swung fully open.

“Like I said,” Cloud repeated, taking a step forward, “we're here to see Corneo.” He continued to advance, forcing the bigger man to back up until both he and Tifa made it inside.

“We're old acquaintances,” Tifa said from behind Cloud.

“Yeah, do whatever,” the man replied, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Thank you very much!” Tifa passed Cloud, then beckoned him after checking the coast was clear. “Corneo spent all his money on trappings, huh? No lackeys anywhere.”

“Hmm...” Cloud's eyes darted around, keeping a look out for sudden attacks.

They made it all the way to Corneo's inner sanctum without seeing another person.

“Guess you were right,” Cloud said to Tifa, as he pushed open the double doors and walked into Corneo's office.

“Then, how is controlling everyone?” Tifa shook her head. “It doesn't make sense.”

“Maybe—watch out!” Cloud grabbed Tifa's wrist and tugged her to safety as a hidden goon leapt from the shadows brandishing a knife.

“Surprise!” Several more appeared.

Pulling her behind him, Cloud drew his sword. “Good to go?”

“Always!”

After making short work of Corneo's thugs, Cloud and Tifa moved past the office and into the back room.

Tifa sighed and shook her head. “I must be seeing things. This looks just like his room at Wall Market.”

“With a couple new additions,” Cloud replied, crossing to the far wall and examining a collection of photos lining it. “Asshole.” He ripped one down and shoved it in his pocket.

“Cloud?” Who's the photo of?

“No biggie.” He looked around. “Where's Corneo?”

“That scumbag. Did he escape like last time?” Tifa balled her fists.

The sound of a toilet flushing came from behind another door.

Cloud glanced at Tifa, seeming to deliberate something, then shook his head. “We'll wait 'till he comes out.”

Tifa's eyes crinkled at the corners as she ducked her head and smothered a laugh. “Thanks.”

By the time Corneo emerged from the bathroom, Tifa had taken a seat at Corneo's desk with Cloud leaning against it beside her. Both smothered their surprise as a thin, pasty man wearing a faded red velvet dressing gown appeared. Most shocking about the change in his appearance was the wheelchair.

“Guess he didn't weasel out it totally after all,” Cloud commented. “You look like shit.”

Corneo stopped and looked up. “Oho, my little Avalanche kittens. Come for a visit, have you? Well, I expected you sooner, but I heard you'd gotten caught up in your little business venture.” Corneo continued wheeling himself around the room until he reached his bed. “Little help? I take it you've incapacitated my men?” When Cloud took a step in his direction, Corneo sneered. “Not you, her.” He pointed at Tifa.

Cloud blocked the way with his sword as Tifa got up from the chair. “Forget it.”

“Oh, I wasn't going to help,” she said, as she placed a hand on his arm and gently urged him to lower his sword. “I was going to kick him and see if he's faking.” She gave Corneo a bright and very false smile.

“Be still my beating heart!” Corneo put both hands to his chest. “How could you think I'd lie about something this serious?”

“Because you're a snake,” Cloud replied. “What are you up to in Edge?” he added, coming straight to the point.

“Up to? Me? Why nothing.” Corneo smiled. “I'm just a businessman seeking new opportunities in the new metropolis.”

Tifa could feel the lies permeating the room. “And what kind of opportunities would those be?”

“What's it to you? I'm not hurting anyone. I'm just going about my day. You're the ones who ruined me so I have to start over, remember?” A vicious look crossed his face as he fidgeted in the wheelchair.

Crossing her arms, Tifa said, “You brought that on yourself, and you'll bring worse if you don't behave.”

Corneo got a saucy look in his eye. “Oh, will you punish me?” he asked, voice dropping an octave.

Tifa repressed a shudder. “Sure,” she said in a bland voice. “Cloud, you still have that bat with all the nails in it, right? That'd make a perfect paddle.”

Corneo's shudder was clearly one of pleasure. “Promises, promises.”

Cloud bared his teeth at Corneo and took a step forward. “Now look—”

“All right, all right.” Corneo put his hands up in surrender. “I'll behave. Wouldn't want your boyfriend getting jealous, am I right?”

Tifa nodded, as Cloud said, “Right.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He'd never admitted he was her boyfriend before. It made her feel strangely shy. She noticed his cheeks turning red as he glared at Corneo, so she ducked her head and tried to focus on the task at hand.

“Oh, you two are cute. Once I build a new coliseum you'll compete, huh? Really bring in the crowds, especially when they hear former champion Cloud has a new lady on his arm.”

“Not new,” Cloud snapped.

What's this? Tifa looked at Cloud again and this time he seemed embarrassed. Who is Corneo talking about?

“We don't have time for your bullshit. Stay out of trouble or I'll finish the job the Turks started.” Cloud was already sheathing his sword and turning to go.

Tifa took one last look at Corneo and followed.

~*~*~

Back at Seventh Heaven, Tifa trailed Cloud into his office and noted his desk needed tidying again. She frowned at the medical text book littered with notes. Is he looking for a cure for Denzel? Her gaze softened as it tracked to him. “Cloud?”

“I wasn't with anyone else in Wall Market,” he said, keeping his back to her. “They misunderstood. They thought that Aerith and I...”

So, it was Aerith with him. “Aerith fought in the coliseum?”

Cloud nodded as he turned around. “We needed money for that dress she wore to the audition.”

She'd never asked about the series of events that led to Cloud appearing in Corneo's dungeon in a gothic style dress. She hadn't ever pictured him like that, so it was a huge surprise when she realised it was him under all the makeup and trappings. Why did he come, anyway? “I know we said we'd drop it,” she began in a hesitant voice, taking a step towards him, “but, you never told me why you went through all that.”

Cloud glanced at her, then ducked his head and smiled. “How else was I supposed to rescue you?”

“Rescue me?” Maybe she suspected that was the reason. She hadn't really thought it through at the time. She'd been so focused on getting info out of Corneo that Cloud's purpose sneaking in eluded her. “Is that why you came?”

“Of course it was.” He chuckled and shook his head. “You think I'd go through that much for anyone else?” He dug his hand in his pocket and withdrew the picture he'd swiped from Corneo's earlier. “Souvenir.”

Tifa stepped closer and looked at the picture. “He took photos?” She looked into Cloud's face with dismay. “Then, that wall...”

“Is how he controls people,” Cloud finished with a nod. “Monsters like that always have an angle.”

“Shouldn't we do something?” She took the photo from him and replaced it with her hand.

“Corneo's the type to step in his own shit. He'll slip up sooner or later.” He squeezed Tifa's hand and shrugged.

“I guess so. It just feels wrong to let him run around all over town when things are just starting to settle down.” She sighed, posture sinking.

“Hey,” Cloud wrapped an arm around her shoulder, “if you let it get to you, then he's already won. You think I'll let that happen?”

That's right. Cloud will take care of things. Corneo won't ruin what we're working so hard to rebuild. “Mm, thanks.” She leaned her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “I always know I can rely on you.” She peered at the photo in her hand. “So, how did you end up in a dress?”

Cloud chuckled shortly. “Aerith and Andrea Rhodea's doing.”

That was enough information for her to make a guess at how things went. She'd gone through similar at the Gold Saucer. “Thought you didn't dance?”

“I only dance with you,” he replied, kissing the top of her head.

She giggled, feeling her cheeks heating at the memory. He'd come so close to kissing her during their performance, it still sent tingles through her whenever she thought of it. “Shame we can't get Andrea to come take over from Corneo; he'd be the better choice,” she said, trying to deflect from how flustered she'd become. Her eyes drifted towards the cot Cloud set up in the office for those late hours when he returned and didn't want to risk waking her. It's the middle of the day. The kids could come home at any time. We really shouldn't. She snuggled closer and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Tifa?” Cloud tucked her hair behind her ear as he whispered her name. “Wanna dance?”

Tifa giggled again and answered with a shy nod.

#final fantasy 7 remake #cloti #cloud strife #tifa lockhart #fan fiction #final fantasy 7r #final fantasy viir #final fantasy 7 #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 advent children #otwtas #the turks are alright #final fantasy 7 compilation

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nothingbutfangirlsmut · 5 years ago

Text

The Trials of Emi

Pairing: A little Minho. A sprinkle of Frypan. Gally x Emi(OC)

Summary: Emi, her twin brother Thomas, and a small group of gladers had been rescued and taken to a safe haven. Or so it seemed. It doesn't take long for Thomas to realize something is wrong. What happens next is a true trial for all of them but Emi's trials began the moment she was ripped away from a dying Gally. Watching someone you love die right before your eyes truly takes a toll.

Finally meeting the right arm could have been the end but betrayal leads to even more chaos and loss. A new mission to rescue those taken from them leads them to a city. The last city. After Emi finally comes to terms with everything that's happened something unfolds that changes everything again. She will have to not only deal with helping her brother take down WCKD and save their friend but also deal with all the new problems in her head and her heart.

Rating: As of right now it’s at most PG13. Some strong language that’s about it but it could change.

(This is the 2nd part/book to my other story "The Maze trials: A Gally Fanfiction". This will cover the events of the scorch trails and the death cure.)

Chapter Sixteen

We followed Gally through the crowded building. Thomas was walking next to him with Newt and Brenda right behind them. Fry and I were the next in line. Fry was still holding my hand to keep me next to him. Jorge pulled up the rear behind us.

"After the maze, I got picked up by a group headed to the city. They realized I was immune, patched me up, and brought me here to Lawrence. His troops have been at war with WCKD ever since they took control of the city. WCKD can't hide behind those walls forever. The day's gonna come and their gonna pay for what they've done." Gally explained as we walked.

We stopped at the end of the hall we were in. Gally turned to face us.

"Listen, uh, he doesn't get a lot of visitors. So, let me do the talking alright? Try not to stare." Gally said then turned to walk again.

We followed behind him to the end of this hall then down a set of stairs into what looked like some kind of living area. Two men were standing at the end of the room by some homemade garden.

"Gally, glad to see you made it back. Jasper told me about what happened." One of the men said.

He seemed to be playing with a flower. He was hooked to some kind of wire that was attached to a metal pole on wheels.

"It was a slaughter. There's nothing we could do against those guns." Gally told the man.

"No, but they can only poke the hornet's nest so long before they get stung. Who are these people? Why are they here?" The man asked without looking at any of us.

"We need to get into WCKD. Gally said you can get us threw the walls." Thomas stepped forward to stand next to Gally.

"Gally should know better than make promises he can't keep. Besides, that wall is only half your problem. Getting inside WCKD is impossible." The man said.

"There might be a way now. It doesn't work without Thomas." Gally said.

"Is that so?" The man asked turning towards us.

His face was still hidden from the light streaming through the windows behind him. He walked forward toward Thomas. The light hit his face. I had to bite my lip to keep from gasping. He was a crank. At least he looked like one. He stopped right in front of Thomas. He leaned forward putting his face only an inch from Thomas.

"Do you know what I am Thomas?" He leaned back.

"I am a businessman which means I don't take unnecessary risks. Why should I trust you?" He asked narrowing his eyes at Thomas.

"Cause I can help you. You see, if you can get me through those walls I can get you what you need." Thomas told him.

"And what is it that you think I need?" He asked slowly.

Thomas looked at the IV like set up the man had next to him.

"Time. Every last drop." Thomas told him.

The man chuckled then glanced at his IV.

"Is that what I need?" He asked.

"WCKD has something we both want." Thomas said simply.

"I'll tell you what. Two can go for now the rest stay here with me. Just a little insurance to make sure you find your way back. Do we have a deal?" The man extended his hand to Thomas.

Thomas looked at it for a second then shook it.

"Gally, show them the way." The man said with a hint of a smile.

We followed Gally into another open room. In the middle was an old metal cover on the ground.

"Who's going?" Gally asked Thomas.

"Newt and I will go. Fry, you keep an eye on Emi for me." Thomas ordered.

Gally looked up to me raising an eyebrow.

"Tommy you damn well know I don't need a baby sitter." I said harshly.

Thomas stepped over to me. He grabbed each side of my face making sure I only looked at him.

"I know you can protect yourself but until I know for sure that this situation is trustworthy I'd rather you have someone else looking out for you. I don't think your mind is exactly clear right now." He said softly.

I pulled his hands away from me as I scoffed.

"Of course my head isn't clear! I woke up this morning knowing that man was dead!" I pointed at Gally but kept my eyes on my brother.

"Emi" Gally said softly.

"Just go Thomas. I'm not gonna have a damn break down." I said harshly then turned away from him.

Thomas sighed but left me alone. I turned back as I heard the metal cover being moved. Gally shoved it to the side. Fry, Thomas, and Newt leaned over to look down the hole. Gally put a ladder inside it then moved to start climbing down.

"Gally, take care of these two. I'm pretty sure that Emi will truly kill you if anything happens to either of them." Fry chuckled.

"Yea" Gally nodded as he looked Fry over for a moment then started down the ladder.

I watched both Thomas and Newt climb down then I sighed as I ran my hands down my face. Fry, Brenda, and Jorge were all standing around me the next second.

"Are you okay?" Fry asked softly.

I looked at him. Is he serious?

"No Fry, I am far from okay. My brother is being a jackass and oh yea, my dead boyfriend is actually alive!" I shouted in frustration.

Fry stepped back from me looking hurt.

"You wanna talk about it?" Brenda asked cautiously.

I chuckled dryly.

"I think I've done enough talking. I want to punch something." I growled then quickly left the room.

I walked back into the room the crank businessman was in. He stopped what he was doing to look at me.

"You look tense my dear." He said.

"You don't say," I said sarcastically.

The man chuckled.

"What could be so bothersome?" He asked tilting his head to the side.

"No offense but if I don't want to talk to my friends about it I certainly don't want to talk to you about it." I snapped.

The man chuckled again.

"You remind me of Gally when he first came here. So untrusting of everyone." The man shook his head.

My chest tightened at his words.

"I'm nothing like him." I said weakly.

"Oh? Could Gally be the reason for your anger?" The man asked as he slowly walked closer to me.

I glared at him which made him laugh.

"Your name wouldn't be Emi would it?" He asked with a smile.

His smile grew as he saw the look of shock on my face.

"It is" he smiled as he stepped even closer to me.

"How did you know that?" I asked him.

He chuckled again.

"You're the girl who stole Gally's heart. He told me all about you Emi. About your life together in the maze. About you being torn from his arms as he laid there dying. What a tragic love story." He chuckled.

"He told you about me?" I asked softly feeling all the anger drain out of me.

"Oh yes, did you know Gally could draw?" He asked suddenly.

I looked at him in confusion from the sudden change of topic. I shook my head.

"Follow me," he said moving his finger towards himself.

I did as he said. He walked into the next room that had a desk in the corner. A large table was toward the middle of the room. He turned to the desk. I watched as he opened the top drawer then pulled out a folder.

"He hides them here for safekeeping." He said handing me the folder.

I took it then laid it on the desk. I opened it to find the most amazing landscape drawing I'd ever seen. It was the glade. It looked so real and beautiful. It was just like I remembered it when I had first gotten there. I put that drawing to the side to look at the next one. My breath caught in my throat. It was me. A perfect flawless drawing of me laughing. Every detail was spot on and perfect. The way my lips curled and my nose scrunched up. My eyes were closed in the midst of laughter. It was beautiful.

The next picture was also of me. This one I was only smiling. He had made it look as though the wind was blowing my hair. The drawing of me was looking straight at me with sparkling brown eyes. How did I not know he could do this?

"He told me he drew your face the most so he'd never forget it." The man next to me said softly.

I put the drawings back in the folder then closed it quickly. I hugged them tight to my chest as I turned to look at the man.

"Thank you" I sniffled.

He nodded then walked past me out of the room. He never forgot me. I quickly walked back into the room the man had gone back to.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked him once I stood in the middle of the room.

"Go ahead," he said as he looked down at his garden.

"Did Gally ever tell you how he feels about me?" I asked as I tightened my hold on the folder.

The man chuckled then turned to look at me.

"Only once. He said that no other woman would ever compare to you. You may have had a troubled ending but if he ever had the chance to see you again he'd make that moment count." The man smiled at me.

"Thank you" I whispered.

I stood there silently for a moment unsure of what to do.

“You look like you could use some time to think.” The man said softly.

I nodded.

“Behind me, these stairs will lead you to the roof. Take you a little breather.” He said pointing behind him.

I did as he said. I clutched the folder against my chest as I started to climb the stairs.

—

#nothingbutfangirlsmut #fanfiction #gally #gally imagine #gally smut #gally x reader #the maze runner #the maze trials #tmr gally #original character #the trials of emi

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 5 years ago

Text

S.T. REWRITE - S2:E7; Chapter Seven, The Lost Sister - [Pt. 3]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

In their search for answers, psychic visions draw Eleven and Y/n to a band of violent outcasts and an angry girl with a shadowy past.

||Reader's POV||

I stare at my reflection studiously. I now stood in a pair of baggy ripped jeans for someone at least a foot taller than me - though I dread to think what the clothes that didn't fit me looked like. I had to cuff them at the ankle as well as hike them around my wrist - thankfully Funshine had supplied a belt. He had also given me three shirts which had confused me at first, but I realize it was a good thing. Given how cold it was, it was wise to dress in layers. Funshine had given me a long white shirt, and an old and faded Rolling Stones tee shirt to go over it. As an added layer, a red flannel that hung over the tucked-in shirts.

I wasn't quite used to this style, but I have to say, I do kinda like it. Mom always bought our clothes, and while she did support us branching out and trying different things she always found a way around getting stuff like this. It didn't look half bad, and it was certainly warm.

Sighing, I look around the room. Besides the fire pit where my clothes are sitting nearby to dry, the room is lit by a giant sign for some sort of psychic.

Ironic.

I can hear bickering and mixed laughter downstairs, and I wander out to the balcony unsure of what I'm supposed to do now. I step back out of view, not wanting to get caught and I begin looking around. I see another stairway, and streaming through the top is a small pale gray of light. Hesitantly, I climb towards it, careful to keep my footing light.

I can hear cars passing outside as I approach the corner at the top of the stairs and I can feel a cool breeze. Cautiously, I turn the corner and I see a door labeled, ROOF ACCESS sitting ajar propped open by a brick. I catch a brief glimpse of Kali talking to El, and I realize if I can see her she could easily see me. Slowly, I readjust myself around the corner when I catch the words she speaks to El.

"What you can do is incredible. It makes you very special, Jane."

I stop, unable to make myself move and against my better judgment I stay to listen. I have to strain to hear El's soft-spoken words, but I hear them.

"Wait," she says. "Do you have a gift?"

"Different," she says. "I can make people see, or not see, whatever I choose."

I frown, my mind conjuring thousands of possibilities and weaving intricate webs that feed my anxiety.

"Is that why you made the man with the crazy hair dance?" El asks.

"Axel is not so fond of spiders, so..."

"You made him see spiders?"

There was a moment of silence, but soon enough I hear voices again.

"But it doesn't have to be scary," Kali says. "This butterfly, it isn't real. I've just convinced your mind it is. Think of it as a kind of magic."

Curiosity gets the best of me, and slowly I peek around the corner. I see Kali and El staring into up into the air, and El even swipes a hand above her head. It's a strange sight, but I know she is seeing something I am not. And that frightens me, what a dangerous power to have. Kali swipes at the air, her clenched fist retracts and her palm slowly opens revealing nothing.

I return my back against the wall when I hear El speak again.

"Are you real?"

"Yes, I'm real."

There is another silence, and it is broken moments later when I hear them break into giggles. I feel my heart clench and I sigh inwardly, ready to return to my room. But something stops me.

"Jane, you told me that your friend came here to help you, right?"

I freeze, my feet rooted in place.

"Yes."

She waits for a moment, then speaks slowly. Her voice has grown serious once more, and the tone she has when speaking about me to El rubs me the wrong way. It's like she's putting words in El's mouth.

"Something tells me there is more that story. That's an awful long way to come for a friend."

"She's like us. She has a gift."

"Really?" Kali says. "But I thought she grew up with those boys you spoke of? The ones that helped you."

"She did. But she came from the lab. She would have been called Nine."

This pause was the most damning and by far the most deafening. I could practically see the look on her face without having to turn the corner and I tried desperately to calm my heart. Again, I knew there was no logic behind this anxiety, but I did trust the feeling completely.

I didn't know what to do, or what to think and the pause must have been significant enough for El to speak up.

"What's wrong?" El asked.

I heard Kali sigh, and she proceeded to take several harsh breaths and she spoke very slowly to El.

"Was her mother [y/m/n]?"

"Yes," El said, a hint of surprise.

"Jane, do you realize just how much she has affected our lives?"

"No?"

"You say you don't remember our time together, no?" Kali asks slowly. "Well, things were a little different before the missing experiment."

"How?"

"You see, back in the rainbow room, we got to play. You say you saw this? We weren't as isolated or kept apart. But when she went missing, our lives got a whole lot harder."

"The room..." El said, her voice cracking.

"Yes, Jane, the room. I remember it too. These men that took us, took our lives, they grew very mad and very frightened when your friend escaped, and they took it out on us. The lab was never a good place, but at least we had our sanity, but they took that away too when she left."

"I remember when we went into lockdown, men stormed my room and ripped me from my toys. I was thrown in the room and I didn't come out for another day and a half. I was relocated every night, for four nights in a row. And I never saw you again, until now."

"What... are you saying?"

"Jane, let me put it this way. Does it not bother you that not only did your friend get a better life than us, but our lives were made worse because of it?"

"Well, yes. But it wasn't her fault. It was her mothers." El said confused.

I smiled.

"Maybe so, but think about it. Do you really think this friend of yours truly understands what we go through? What you go through, every day? She does not have the memories we do, she does not know the life we have lived, the bad times. She has grown up in a nice home, with a loving family. She does not understand our pain. So do you really think she could understand us?"

This time, El didn't say anything. Once again, I was wrong before. This silence was more deafening and far more damning. I felt the anger return, boiling up in my chest.

"And that is why I want you to stay. Don't you see? This could be your home, you said it yourself, we're sisters. I can teach you how to harness your anger, and strengthen your gift. We'll look after each other. We understand each other. Y/n will never understand you. But I do. Would you like that, Jane?"

Never in a million years would I expect El go side with her, but she did and I could feel my heart break into two.

"Home."

Hot anger rises to my cheeks, and I feel the heat radiating off my face. Hotly, I turn on my heel and trudge down the steps, not caring if I'm heard and I think of returning to the room but decide against it. Instead, I stomp downstairs and past the group drawing several curious glances. I ignore their comments and I rip the door open and run outside. I run and run and run, never ceasing until my lungs tire. I stop and look around, panting and I find myself in an abandoned train yard.

I try to calm my racing thoughts but they only grow stronger and faster, buzzing around my head like a swarm of hornets. I every needle of anger I felt in the past year pricking my nerves and push me to the edge, I feel every bruise anyone has ever inflicted upon me with every dagger thrown my way.

I collapse on my knees, wailing, finally allowing every feeling, every emotion I have had to repress come back with a vengeance. Head in my knees, my palms pound against the pavement and I feel a huge rush of adrenaline and relief. The wind carries my hair as I scream and I feel a gush of warm air. My hands find their way through my hair and my fingers claw at my scalp. I feel my jeans grow wet but I know it is only from my tears this time, and I take several deep breaths.

Sobs still wracked my body and it is a long while before I finally pull my head up from legs. My eyes are puffy, but I am still able to see the large cracks traveling along the pavement around me.

I look around myself in wonder, the once smooth pavement beneath me had cracked and split into several veins and tendrils spiking. I hadn't even noticed, the ground below me had shifted and quickly stumbled to my feet. Right where I had been sitting the pavement had caved in between the two breaking points where my palms had made the fracture. I looked on in amazement at what I accidentally have done.

Logically, I know I caused this.

I choke back a defeated laugh, but then I allow it to happen. For the first time, I feel truly myself. Kali was right, I don't belong here. But I don't want to belong here.

I have no reason to stay. I could help Will like I said I was doing in the first place. I could go home. And I will. There's no decision, no should I stay or should I go. El could stay if she wanted, but I'm going to go.

I'm going home.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

By the time I reach the warehouse, my anger has grown tepid. But my mind is still made up. I'm leaving, tomorrow, first thing. But that didn't mean I couldn't still try to talk to El. When I enter the warehouse, I'm relieved I don't have the same worries as last. The downstairs is empty now but I dismiss the thought, heading up the stairs.

"Ole McDonald had a farm! E-I-E-I-O!"

I turn when I hear the family tune echo from around the corner.

What in the actual hell?

Then I remember their nickname for El and I roll my eyes. Of course, they want her in and abuse her powers but they won't treat her with any respect. I hear a slam that stops the singing and once again I find myself overhearing Kali's words.

"She found me with only this."

"What's that mean?" I recognized the voice as the woman who stepped up to Axel, the woman in green.

"It means she can find people without moving. With nothing but an image."

"You telling me Shirley's a human radar detector or some shit?" Axel asked.

"Or some shit, yes."

"Come on, no way."

"We'll find out soon enough," Kali said. "I want to do one. Tomorrow."

My brows furrowed. What the hell where are they talking about? Whatever it was didn't sound good and they clearly wanted to use El for her powers. "Sister" my ass.

"You serious, Kal?" Axel asked, his voice rising.

"We're way too hot right now." The woman warned.

Another voice joined in, the crazy looking girl who mocked me.

"Paranoid." She said, in a sing-song voice.

"Realistic." The woman corrected. "You don't kill their men and expect them to look the other way."

My eyes widen.

So that's what they're doing. They're going around killing the bad men. Yeah, they're bad men, they're terrible people who've done terrible things but this is not the solution.

"If they find us, they will unleash hell." She finished.

"So we give in to fear?" Kali snapped back. "She's in pain. She needs this. We go out tomorrow."

I heard footsteps approach and I freeze, unable to move without being seen. Much to my relief Axel falls after Kali and the footsteps pause.

"Kali!"

"What?"

I take advantage of her diverted attention and I cross the hallway before she can see me.

"What about that pesky tag-along friend of hers, what about her?"

"I have no use for her. She's not to be trusted, I want her gone by morning."

The footsteps continued and quickly I slipped into the room I had been shown. It seems El was there too, she lay in the bed on one side, nuzzled up under a bright orange blanket. I slowly step inside and all the words I had prepared to say evaporated when I saw El. She looked so comfortable, and by now she was fast asleep. I was still very upset with her, but I knew if I woke her, and told her everything, things would only end on a bad note.

Maybe I could talk to her in the morning. Obviously, I have to wake up extra early anyway to leave before they could get rid of me. Sighing, I slipped off my shoes setting them the dim fire pit and trudged to the other side of the bed. I sat on the edge, sighing greatly as I put my head in my hands. I sit like this for a moment, collecting my thoughts before I discard a few of my layers. Slowly as not to wake El, I lay myself down on the opposite side, and nuzzle myself under the covers. I don't realize how tired I am until my head hits the pillow and right as my eyes flutter closed I am awakened.

"Y/n?"

My eyes open, and I see El looking at me from where she lays.

My stomach twists in knots knowing the moment can no longer be avoided. I'd have to tell her.

"Hi, El." I croak.

I can feel a lump forming in my throat, knowing what is about to unfold. Not wanting to dread it a moment longer, I take a deep breath and rip off the bandaid.

"El, are you staying here?"

She seems taken aback, her eyebrows furrow and she gives me a curious look. It quickly morphs into sadness and she nods

"Yes." She says. "How did you know?"

"I heard."

"Oh." Is all she says.

I take another deep breath, trying to keep my emotions intact.

"But are you sure you trust Kali? I mean, we hardly know her and I'm just not so sure about all this."

Her eyebrows twitch, and I can sense a flicker of anger.

"She's my sister." She says slowly, her voice begins to harden.

This causes my own brows to flicker, and I try to hide my offense.

"And I'm your best friend, I'm only trying to look out for you. I just think maybe you should think this through."

I think about the words that Kali said about me, not only to El but the words El didn't hear.

"Get rid of her."

"She cares about me. I'm her missing piece. She said so. And she is mine." El spits.

"What? El, please. Just hear me out-"

"It's Jane."

I don't attempt to stop myself from recoiling, I look at her in disbelief.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Jane. But seriously, hear me out, please! You didn't hear the things she was just planning. The things she just said to her friends out there, you don't understand-"

"No, Y/n." She shot, cutting me off. "You don't understand me."

I gape at her, unable to fathom the person she has morphed into in so little time. I laugh dryly, looking at her distastefully.

"I guess you're right, Jane. I don't understand you. Not anymore. I came here to tell you that I'm leaving by the way, on my own choice. Not because I overheard them say they're going to get rid of me, so I won't be here when you wake up so no worries there. I'll even say hi to Mike when I get home. Goodnight," I spit, rolling over on my side my back facing her.

My words don't ease the bubbling anger in my chest and before incantations stop myself I feel it boil over.

"Some friend you are," I huff under breath.

I don't hear another word from her, all I hear is several huffs and the rustling of the sheets. Once again my head is buzzing, but rather than dwell on the angering thoughts, this time I allow sleep to take me.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

I stir awake for what feels like the billionth time. And although I remember waking several times throughout the night, my stuff joints tell me I slept deeply. The details of last night come flooding back all too quickly and I sigh inwardly, my heart breaking all over again. Finally, I angle my wrist to glance at my watch, the time read six twenty-five. I might as well get moving. I remind myself of the words exchanged last night and that is enough to motivate me.

I slip out of bed, gracelessly but also noiseless and I'm quick to put on my shoes. Perks to sleeping in my new clothes, I didn't have to waste time getting dressed but I was awfully chilly. Thankfully my jacket managed to stay bone dry, and I am able to make sure all my actions are muted as to not draw attention. Thankfully, I hear limited signs of life throughout the warehouse apart from some occasional shuffling which I assume is from Mick, who always seems to be on the watch.

I plan my escape in my head when I realize, I needed money for the bus. My eyes flicker to El's sleeping form and down at her bag. With hushed steps, I reach the end of the bed and kneel down and carefully unzip it. My hand extends further into the bag, my eyes trained on El in case she wakes and I remind myself she planned on staying anyway. She'd have no use for bus money and sure enough, my fingers catch the dog eared corner of the paper.

My brows crease when I realize it's a lot thicker than I expected. I dig deeper, my other hand falling to prop open the stiff bag as I peer inside curiously and my fingers retract with something completely unexpected in my grip. Peculiarly enough, I find a manilla folder. I turn it over, and in an instant, I feel my mouth run dry when I see the three words etched out across the front in messing handwriting.

THE MISSING EXPERIMENT

It can't be. She wouldn't.

Numbly, I open the folder. Dozens of papers and news clippings spill out one by one and I look on in shock. Several species are annotated in pen, several notes have been taken by several different people and the feeling it leaves me with sickens me.

All my life I wondered where I came from, all my life I've been a giant question mark. So many loose threads, and unanswered questions and yet all these people had this information. By the looks of it, it's been passed down. And even El had it. My eyes find her once more but this time I look at her in disgust.

How could she keep this from me? This whole time, I'd been there to help her, and she said she was here to help me. Then why hide this?

My eyes fall back to the remaining sheets around me and I'm pulled in before I can stop. The first thing I note is an older looking file, it looks to be typed up and looks by far the oldest. It read,

Subject 009; UNTESTED

Date of Birth: TBD Sex: TBD Mother: Y/M/F/N Father: Unknown Attribute(s): increasing signs of abnormalities during pregnancy, affecting both mother and child such as drastic changes in temperature, signs of hypertension and hyperactivity. ADDITIONALLY, mother has recently begun showing signs of involuntary and unnatural physical resistance one can only describe as seismic bursts that we hypothesize is the fetus' defense mechanism.

My attention is ripped away when I hear scuffling from downstairs, and quickly I gather my thoughts. I force myself to shove this aside for a moment, and quickly I collect every stray piece of paper that had fallen within moments and return them to the folder. I thank anything and everything I can that my jacket has large inside pockets. Truthfully, the stitching ripped a few years back and expanded the length of the pocket, sure the folder would get a little bent but it would certainly do given I didn't have a bag.

I dig through El's bag once more and find the remaining money from last night's trip and I jump to my feet racing for the doorway. Out of habit, I turn to look at El one last time not knowing if I'll ever see her again. But once again, the anger quickly replaces my somber feelings and makes it easier to leave. Keeping an eye out on the other room, I slip over to the stairs.

Mick was in the other room across the hall taking watch just as I had suspected, so there was no one waiting downstairs when I flew down the steps. I race for the door and with one last glance, I'm out the door in record time.

Like I'd never been there. They surely wouldn't know the difference.

+++

Tag List: @dickkwad @aimee-lucass @iblesstherainsdown-in-africa @miscellaneoustoasts @happyandlonely-blog @missmulti @youpi-chan @peeperparkour @ba-responds @bibliophilesquared @blogforhoes @witch-of-all-things-soft @shawni-h @whothefuckstolemykeds @mirdall @fandom-imagines-xxx @daughter-of-pan12 @stranger-things4

DM me if you want to be added!

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #cosmic #cosmic 2 #netflix #stranger things rewrite #reader insert rewrite #jane ives #jane hopper #el hopper

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atreya300 · 4 years ago

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Slenderman and Creating Real Tulpas

I remember a couple of years ago finding out about Slenderman. It was so creepy that I looked into it a lot, especially when I heard the theory about Slenderman being a Tulpa. As if he wasn’t creepy enough just by being a made up story on the Internet, kids were killing other kids, or stabbing other kids, in order to “please Slenderman”. Clearly a game that they had invented and taken deadly seriously.

A Tulpa is an intended hallucination which can be sentient and have its own thoughts and personality. It is (according to the Tulpa Community, but not, I may add, folkloric legend) only seen by the person who created it, who has done so by prolonged periods of thinking solely about what the tulpa looks like, talks like, moves like etc, thus developing, in essence, another person who is sharing their body and mind, but functions as a separate personality. We know of lucid dreaming, as I have often done it myself. We’re aware that our brains are more than capable of producing extremely real and vivid hallucinations.

So is it entirely impossible that if enough people all put enough thought power into the creation of the same, singular individual, that a tulpa could be formed which could break free of the constraints of individual minds and be a person all of its own, with its own free will and the power to manipulate others? I believe it is possible. Call me crazy. My tin foil hat is firmly in place. It’s hilarious really when you consider that I laughed down the Flat Earthers, yet here I am saying that it’s possible to create an imaginary friend who can turn into a mind-bending, master manipulator.

I didn’t have many friends growing up. So I was one of the kids who didn’t mind admitting that I had invented an imaginary friend. His name was Bill and he was based off of Bill from ‘Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure’ because I was obsessed with that movie. I would talk to him whilst walking home from school alone, ask him what he would do in my place during different situations that I was struggling with and he always had an answer that I imagined. I would say, “Bill, do you think [insert boyfriend name here] is a dick?” and in my head he would instantly say, “Hell yeah he is, you need to dump his ass!”. Of course, I never once thought that I had created another person. It was my imaginary friend. In my head. Made up by me. Well, me and Alex Winter. His instant “responses” was just my own subconscious mind telling me what I really, truly felt, without having to consciously think about it.

Having perused the Tulpa Community it seems to be an extremely dangerous rabbit hole. For one, what they are describing as “tulpas”, at best, mostly seem to be an adult version of an imaginary friend and at worst, a real mental health issue, possibly Dissociative Identity Disorder which is incredibly serious and is being passed off as something that is perfectly normal and almost a uncommon achievement to be able to create a tulpa, rather than the reality which is that there is real medical and psychological help out there for cases such as DID and it should certainly not be explained away as a deliberately induced imaginary friend who will solve all your problems for you. Passing it off as such could potentially make the case even worse. I’m not a psychologist. I’m just using common sense. If you cultivate something, it grows.

So. I have made a decision that I don’t buy into the Tulpa Community. There are also a lot of comments on YouTube videos and forums that are quite blatantly people who are full of absolute shit and others who are just clearly attention seeking. I thoroughly enjoyed the brilliant sarcastic responses to those comments.

Now let’s get serious (ish). Bear with me. Let’s get back to the theory of many people being able to collectively produce a tulpa.

As I said before, I became obsessed with Slenderman. I watched videos (all of Marble Hornets), read newspaper articles, looked at pictures, read stories, until he became my every waking thought. After a week and a half I developed sensations such as paranoia, racing heart, dizziness and the feeling of constantly being watched by something just out of the corner of my eye. I began having horrific nightmares and would wake up drenched in sweat. I stopped being able to lucid dream and wake myself up and was forced to play out the nightmares, helpless. It got to the point where I didn’t want to sleep. The times that my boyfriend had blessedly snored loudly enough to wake my conscious brain, I sat up in bed, exhausted, trying desperately to keep my eyes open and not fall back to sleep. Every shadow in the bedroom seemed to resemble Slenderman and I was convinced that as soon as the lights got dim or it was dark, he was there in the shadows waiting. I stopped going to bed before my boyfriend. I didn’t want to be in the house alone.

Looking back, naturally it all seems totally stupid. Me, a grown 35 year old, scaring myself silly because of a kids’ story on the internet. But what if it really is possible to create a tulpa by using enough collective subconscious power? Thousands of people in the world at the time were reading those same stories and scaring themselves silly like I was. If it was possible to create a tulpa, Slenderman and his fame would most certainly warrant it.

For anyone who isn’t familiar with the 80’s movie ‘A Nightmare on Elm Street’, the main bad guy/killer is Freddy Kruger, a demon (who was a bloke who killed kids and then got burned in a fire by their fucked-off parents, then he came back from the dead in peoples’ dreams, as a...you know what, I don’t fucking actually really know what kind of thing Freddy is) who kills people in their dreams. Enough people get to know about him and he suddenly can break free of only being in their dreams and can exist in the real world, killing whomever he chooses in reality. Freddy, is a tulpa. He existed in reality, purely because all the kids talked about him, described him to each other, then dreamed about him, which cemented him more in their brains, until he became a reality. By what was, if I remember correctly, the 407th film featuring Freddy, ‘Freddy vs Jason’ the townsfolk had worked out that the only way to defeat Freddy, was to pretend he didn’t exist. No one was allowed to talk about him, no one could mention his name, and anyone who dreamed about him was given dream suppression pills so they ceased dreaming altogether (boy didn’t I crave Hypnocil during my Slenderman nights). In this way, Freddy became weak and the town was safe (for a while - Stage Right - freaky hockey-mask-wearing-dude-with-mommy-issues).

My point is that from my personal point of view, the Tulpa Community are people who have really good imaginations, like myself and are doing nothing more than imagining another person. They are not “creating” a tulpa. Not in the sense that I think they think they are anyway. I sort of feel like a tulpa is akin to a golem who is created to protect someone or something and is capable of physical destruction in the real world.

I digress. Touching on Slendy for the podcast is something I’ve wanted to do for a while now, but I’ve hummed and hawed because, let’s face it, I’m scared. Slenderman did become a bit too real for me, even if it was in my head and my mind playing tricks on me, but it put me through sheer terror, I was legitimately scared of my own shadow so opening this can of worms is a big deal for me, even if it seems utterly stupid for a grown woman to feel that way. If two young girls can pretend that killing their friend as a “sacrifice to Slenderman” is real, then who’s to say if enough people genuinely hallucinated Slendy and his creepy, murderous personality, that other people could not be compelled to kill? He would become his own person. I’m a tin-foil hat wearing silly girl who believes a lot of ridiculous things (except Flat Earth, you guys are wrong - just saying), but from a mass hallucination point of view, I do genuinely think this could be plausible. And by delving back into this research, not only am I opening up the likelihood of scaring myself silly, into seeing shit that isn’t there, I would also have to be held (partially) responsible for creating the master Slenderman that wipes out the world by making people kill each other. Hmph. And Ted Bundy thought he had some great ideas.

Also, “Tulpamancy” is a thing. Although not according to the Tibetians, where the tulpa originated. Funny that. Almost as if it’s a made up word. (It is. By the Tulpa Community.)

As for the pretend “Tulpa Community”? Some of these people envision their tulpas as characters from ‘My Little Pony’. Make of that what you will. I wouldn’t personally be taking career and life advice off of a fucking horse. All I’m saying.

#slenderman #mystery #weird #tulpa #monster #murder

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lizzybeth1986 · 5 years ago

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Quick Thoughts on TRFTP Book 1 Chapter 16

• Remember how I dubbed the book The Royal Fast-Track Pregnancy last chapter? Well, yeah. That’s my title for this book from now on.

• If you don’t want to see these posts on your dash, here are the tags to block: #trh quick thoughts, #trh qts, #trh qt reblogs, #long post.

• We’re now in the MC’s third trimester, celebrating her baby shower. Her in-laws show up, she gets gifts, she barely notices that her corgis have had puppies (but why am I surprised, this is the same MC who didn’t care enough about her corgi in Book 2 to notice he was with Liam to help with his proposal). And a couple of nosy royals come to visit.

• Over here in India, we do this ceremony around the 7th month, and it’s called different names in different places but with similar traditions and setups. Up North it’s called godhbharai (which literally means “filling the lap” - since the mother’s lap features prominently here as a symbol of maternal care, therefore the gifts are placed on a cloth over her lap - symbolizing her fulfillment once she reaches motherhood and the blessings she takes with her), and mostly fruits and sweets are placed on her lap as a blessing for prosperity and luck. You have games…but the mother isn’t exactly expected to participate in them - she’s the guest of honour, she sits and enjoys!

• She definitely isn’t there to submit to such a thorough interrogation of her political choices either!!

• The rest of the world treats a baby shower like a time for the mother-to-be to relax and be pampered within an inch of her life. Cordonia treats it as an opportunity for her to beat non-pregnant people at their version of egg-and-spoon and pass personality tests.

• Screenshots:

Hana: The Universal Studio 77 YouTube channel

Maxwell: The rash rec YouTube channel

Drake: @thefirstcourtesan and The BizzysChoices YouTube channel

• Title: Great Expectations

Alternative Title: The State of My Bladder Is of Far More Importance Than Any of This Nonsense.

• Believe me, during your final months of pregnancy your bladder will be virtually non-existant (which is why you’re recommended kegel exercises early on). In medical terms they call this “urinary incontinence”, which is due to those muscles facing way more pressure than usual). At one point I recall joking about how we should add “The Bathroom” at the top of my home address, coz I was almost taking up permanent residence there 😐 I wouldn’t be worrying about politics and intrigue at a time like this, I’d be worrying about my kegels!

• Kiki doesn’t get a lot of opportunities to flex her diplomatic muscles in this story, but when she does, gosh does she deliver. Following her advice this time is what allows us to buy time for ourselves.

• Unfortunately that’s all the space PB will allow Kiara, we’re now back to our regular schedule of treating her like she doesn’t matter.

• Either Maxwell or Hana (in Maxwell’s playthrough) will lead us to the boutique to pick out an outfit.

• On a level of having more gold (therefore bling) than peach, that diamond option already wins. At least in the silhouette I can pretend the peach parts of this dress don’t exist. (I still wound up using the free peach outfit for my failplay of this chapter though)

• Me before meeting Hana: pls don’t make her wear that awful lbd again pls pls pls i beg

Me seeing Hana wear the silver one: …okay that’s not too bad. I’m just going to keep headcanoning this one as a gown though.

• Liam wears his official black tie outfit, Hana wears her silver dress, Maxwell wears his black suit and Drake his deep blue one.

• In everyone else’s playthrough besides Hana’s, she is the one in charge of this “planning committee”. Penelope is in charge of…throwing confetti, which annoys Olivia to end.

• Marguerite from THM steps forward with her good wishes, and asks us about the sex of the child - at which point the narrative lets us know that it’s tradition in Cordonia to not know until the delivery. Which makes sense, since we’ll probably be allowed to customize this in a different book? And in some countries (like mine, where it’s illegal to find out before delivery) there are really, really good reasons to not give anyone - especially the family - that information.

• We meet the rest of the royals: Eirik is as self-centered as he always was (either that or Khaan really desperately needs to make sure no one knows he’s that VR game developer from San Francisco who ran away from Eros), Lerato and Lesidi are cupcakes as always, and the Three Big Royals are shady as always.

• The good thing about the scene where Isabella tries to touch your belly is that it is established as out of line straightaway. You win or lose no points however you react, and while you’re expected to be diplomatic and impress them - the narrative is clear on how wrong Isabella is on doing this. And even if you don’t show a reaction, your LI most certainly will.

• PB is trying to convince me that Amalas has a better sense of boundaries, as if she didn’t stalk me in Texas and squeeze out every possible detail about my past life like an orange in a juicer. She only seems better because the Auvernese have all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

• Most of the LIs have lost a parent, but have a sibling (except for Hana, who is an only child with both parents living. Liam has lost both his parents, but has a stepmother in Regina so she fulfills that role here) - which means that in every case besides Hana’s, we see one parent and one sibling who has become a parent (optional, in Leo’s case).

- Liam: Regina and Leo (YOU EXIST! I WAS ALMOST CERTAIN PB FORGOT YOU WERE THERE). The two lightheartedly tease each other, which is phenomenal progress considering they were at each other’s throats in RoE! Leo comes to wish the MC in all playthroughs.

- Hana: Lorelai and Xinghai. Hana has sent them an invitation but wasn’t sure they’d make it, and depending on whether she is married or not their response varies. In the friendly playthrough, they respond positively but the focus is still very much on seeing the MC. In the romantic playthrough, however, Hana is allowed to show her nervousness and slight fear (how generous, PB!), reaches out to the MC for support, and the parents are tentative in their approach, with Xinghai even assuring Hana that they will cut short their stay if she wants them to. To which she confirms that she does indeed want them here. The two come to wish the MC in all playthroughs, as Leo does.

- Maxwell: Bartie Sr and Bertrand. Bartie Sr tops even King Eirik for self-centeredness (“make way for House Beaumont!”) and is…just plain weird in the way he greets the MC and his younger son (even Maxwell notices this, commenting that ol’ Bartie is “laying it on a little thick”). Bertrand is the more normal, sorted one, which is a sentence I thought I’d never say in this series. The team was pretty smart in how they scattered BertVannah between two LIs - Drake gets a visit from his sister, Maxwell gets a visit from his brother. Neither Bartie Sr nor Bertrand make an appearance in any other playthroughs which is just as well coz I saw PLENTY Bertrand for 7 whole chapters.

- Drake: Bianca and Savannah. Bianca asks the MC if Drake has been “pulling his weight around the house” while the MC has been “worrying about that baby” - nice to know she expects the same of her son as she did for her son-in-law (or perhaps a little less than what she expects of her son-in-law, considering Bertrand had to get back an entire saddle from the person she sold it to just so he could win her favour, after she allowed her sister to treat him like crap for his entire stay at her home). Savannah mercifully doesn’t get a lot of dialogue and merely compliments our glow. Savannah only appears in this playthrough, while her husband Bertrand only appears in Maxwell’s. Which is a good thing. I’ve had enough of that couple to last me a lifetime (sorry Bertrand). You see both Bianca and Savannah only in this playthrough, and I’m EXTREMELY relieved we don’t see Leona.

• It must be clear to anyone who has read all the playthroughs by now - only Leo, Lorelai and Xinghai make appearances across playthroughs, which could either be because they haven’t been shown at all in the books until now, or possibly because they may feature in Lythikos.

• Okay it’s egg and spoon time but with apples. This is Cordonia. It wouldn’t be anything but apples.

•

When you’re a new mom the last thing on your mind is grace and poise ok. Put really really simply and not in too much detail…your brain will feel more scrambled than scrambled eggs esp in the initial weeks, coz half the time you’re trying to make sense of your kid’s sleep schedule and the other half is your body just….feeling WEIRD (hormonal shifts, postpartum bleeding, and generally the overall effects of childbirth - whether it is vaginally or via C-section, both of which come with their own set of challenges). Your own sleep schedule is going to be all over the place and even after the kid starts sleeping all through the night, sometimes your brain has already been wired to wake you up at 2 AM or something. Your back is gonna hurt like a bitch. Your hair will become a hornet’s nest within the first two weeks coz what even is combing (okay, okay, that was probably just me 😅😅). And this is just when things go normally, okay.

You don’t need grace and poise to take care of a kid at this stage - you need stamina and a strong support system. Cordonia (I mean YOU, TRH team) you really need to talk to more pregnant people 🤦🏽‍♀

(on a more serious note…this is why I feel there needs to be more dialogue on parenthood. What it’s truly like and how it really feels, without the kind of fear that holds especially new parents back from admitting to their feelings about it. New parenthood with all its mess and stresses, its frustrations and confusions. No matter how prepared you are, no matter how much reading up you’ve done, there will always be something about that experience that will knock you sideways. I’ve learned that the less shame there is around admitting that parenthood can be messy, can be trial-and-error rather than perfectly executed every single time, can be imperfect, the better it is for everyone. And maybe this is a lesson that parents in some places have had the space to learn already - and that’s amazing - but there are a whole bunch of places where that’s not the case. And there is so much pressure to make it sound better, to convince people this is an easy happy journey even when it isn’t, or to believe that your well-being isn’t as important as that of your child, that many new parents don’t speak up…believing they’re the only ones who feel this way).

But I digress. I do know that “grace and poise” is expected of pregnant royals and even pregnant celebs. I do know that often they’re expected to step out looking picture perfect after having to battle lack of sleep and insane hormonal changes. They’re expected to have “fit bodies” just months after they’ve delivered. This happens in the real world. And the more we talk about it? The more we can help parents, esp new parents who might struggle more to articulate this experience.

• So…where was I? Oh right, grace and poise. In a race involving a spoon and an apple. A spoon and an apple. Excuse me while I facepalm🤦🏽‍♀

• My bladder would never survive this race in a real-life pregnancy situation, I just know it.

• Self-centered or not, at least Khaan-in-disguise points out the obvious: that everyone else has a physical edge over us. But Leo assures him that speed doesn’t help you in this game (does that make me the tortoise among a bunch of hares if I win? 🐰 🐰 🐢 🐰 🐰)

• Scarlett-Emerson-in-disguise is an angel coz she’s the only person apologizing for bumping into my bump.

• Now…if you bought the diamond scene where we drank wine with Isabella, you’d get intel about Bradfraud that could throw him off in the race:

Now…I really like this bit, okay. I like how thrown off he is that we know his secret. But I’m not entirely sure how wise of a decision it is to let him know so soon that we know, or whether it will bite us in the ass eventually. Could we have maybe waited for a better opportunity? Idk.

Anyway, so that definitely works. But IMO in a petty, inconsequential way that means little in the long run (or could be dangerous too idk). This is intel we could have saved for a better time.

• This is why it makes more sense for the MC to be told what Olivia (and possibly Liam) is investigating. Or at least for her to actually keep asking until one of them caves in and tells her. If she’d known about an Operation Swan maybe she wouldn’t openly goad him so easily (or maybe she would. It’s the MC after all).

• There’s a funny sequence in this where everyone falls on each other like ninepins. And another one where Olivia gets impatient and just throws her apple over to the finishing line, asking Kiara if she won and Kiki is like “non. You’re extremely disqualified.” Oh Kiki. Never change 😂

• ….exactly how large are these spoons. It’s an apple. That would cross over from spoon territory to ladle!

• Once the race is over, we’re back to our tables for lunch. The MC’s bump almost knocking a plate over sparks a conversation among the mothers in the table about their baby bumps, and then about labour. Lorelai in particular speaks about her delivery being “more…grueling than what I expected” but quickly assuring the now-nervous MC that once the child is placed in your arms it will all be worth it. That description could cover a whole range of experiences…from mildly stressful to extremely terrifying. I always hope it’s the former.

(I have another question though: so if Lorelai was so ecstatic over Hana’s birth, where and how during/after this euphoric period did Hana’s parents suddenly begin to feel “devastated” over not having a son then? Coz I distinctly recall Hana speaking about that in Book 1. Or is this another retcon?)

In any case…it’s nice to hear that at least for Hana’s sake.

• If you’re married to one of the guys, then it’s Hana who put together the tiny hors d'ouvres (“personally tested all the options for deliciousness and visual appeal!”). If you’re married to Hana, Madeleine is in charge of this part of the baby shower (“spent a week focus group taste-testing the sides for both aesthetic and delectability”). In any case, it’s all tiny food that’s too cute to eat.

•

…isn’t this the guy who constantly complained about tiny portions? Why wasn’t he just taking extra helpings then? (though he also still complains about food from another country looking like “abstract art”. First Hana’s meal in China, now this. No one cares for your uninformed, unwanted opinion on their cultural dishes, Drake. Good thing Maxwell shut that nonsense down immediately)

• Isabella and Bradshaw’s communications with us have always used strength, might, power as a central factor in their dealings with us. Amalas’ approach is no less insistent, but in a different direction. Culture, cuisine, these are the things that seem to stand out to me atm. If the Auvernese mindset reminds me somewhat of Lythikos and Olivia, the Monterisso one looks like it could bring to mind Castelserraillian, Kiara and her family, and Liam + Hana who are more inclined to explore art and culture.

• Everyone’s kid likes grapes, apparently.

• The dish Amalas presented for the guessing game is what they call a “Sweet Potato Surprise”, but you gotta admit the ‘mango’ option is the most entertaining 😆 (with the carrot option, she claims that she mentioned a root vegetable, which would be close enough)

• A pair of cute corgi puppies make their way to our table, and depending on whether you bought both adult corgis or not, the puppies are either theirs, or strays. Like…why are you paywalling the CHILDREN of two dogs if we actually bought the dogs. I could actually justify this level of greed if it were backed up by an equal amount of effort in the book overall, but it isn’t.

• Anyway, they only feature together, so you have to decide on two names that will fit in one space. It kind of reminds me of how they’ve drawn Merlin and Morgana - in one sprite. I’m guessing at some point there will be an option to allow Penelope to clothe them as well.

• Like most of the fandom has already said by now, Bastien and Mara can’t even be trusted with a pair of pups.

• If you don’t buy the pups, Penelope offers to have one of her friends “in the canine couture world” to adopt them.

• Here’s the parenting advice from all the in-laws!

Liam: Regina speaks of the importance of regulating sweet intake closer to bedtime which is true because a child on a sugar rush will transform into the Energizer Bunny and go on forever. Like, this is very much how a child on a sugar rush reacts to the notion of sleep:

Hana: This one seems to highlight Hana’s competitive nature, perfectionism and ambition, and I guess there could be a lesson there in that you need to give yourself time to grow into things you want to do, and that means allowing yourself the space to topple over or struggle once in a while, the space to make mistakes. But I doubt it because weren’t these the same people who deemed her a failure for things that were beyond her control??

Maxwell: Maxwell is sorta kinda called out in this one, both for being “peaceful looking” and for wrecking havoc with those House documents lol. I’m guessing Bartie Sr is here in our baby shower mostly to look suspicious. What exactly was in those House Documents, ol’ Bart?

Drake: Bianca gives us some age-old advice about sleeping while the baby sleeps, which is something my mother and aunt (who looked after me post-childbirth) swore by. They would insist I spent whatever time kiddo was sleeping to be when I got my shut-eye too, because if you don’t take that and pull an all-nighter feeding the child, it’s going to be near-impossible to function. But you really, really need to have lots of support around you during such times because that kind of schedule leaves you little to no time to do much else besides occasional eating, small routines and light exercise (thankfully the MC has staff and a strong support system who can help her). In this case Bianca quips that Savannah was the easy one, and Drake the really fussy one. Drake isn’t quite convinced (who are you kidding Drake you’re still fussy).

• You get two extra pieces of parenting advice from the rulers, pretty characteristic (at least in Auvernal’s case since we’re more familiar with their culture) of where they come from. Amalas’ is “know your baby’s moods, and you can spot a tantrum before it happens”. The Auvernese “pearls of wisdom” say “to show weakness is to admit defeat” - Jesus, these guys have lost already, then.

• Olivia now has plans for a dart playing game - where she plans to use her daggers instead. You can either refuse to join, or enthusiastically participate. The LI warns you to be careful in the second option.

• If you join in: Isabella and Amalas hit near-center, both claiming different things in the face of their defeat (Isabella claims Olivia’s dagger to be a “terribly balanced weapon”) and Amalas tries to throw Olivia off by claiming her “aim was off”. Both of them are clearly thrown off by the unfamiliar weapon. At this point Olivia counts on the MC to “show them what Cordonians are made of”. If you succeed, you get a glimpse of your LI going all John Mulaney on the foreign royals (“that’s my wife!”)

• If you don’t join in: the LI and the MC’s friends form a protective circle around her, and Olivia chooses to stick to the usual darts. Isabella and Amalas are both in their element, with tools they’re familiar with using on a dart board. Isabella’s is still just near the target, Olivia’s is even closer, and Amalas’ is the closest - almost knocking off Olivia’s dart.

• Either way, we’ve effectively pissed off Isabella who angrily asks for “best of two?” 🤭

• Time for presents!

• Uh oh. The rattle comes from Auvernal. And it’s the same rattle as the one on the book cover. Soooooo…what does that hint at? Will our hand be forced, somehow? And will we eventually have to make a secret pact with Monterisso to get out of it, since the narrative is really really trying to push Amalas as the better option? (maybe not, but it’s fun to theorize).

• I don’t trust Amalas but they clearly gave her the nicer gift (at least, a nicer explanation for her gift). It’s a blossom “from the oldest apple tree in Monterisso, a tree that Cordonia helped my people plant long ago”. She hints at a closeness that the countries shared way back and offers the gift as a way of asking if that could happen again. The story kind of reminds me of the Regatta one Liam told us in Book 1, where Cordonia helped its neighbours at sea with supplies, during a time when they were ravaged by storms.

• Eirik gives you a bust of his own head, Lerato and Lesidi give you glass bottles and Marguerite gives us money, which puzzles the LIs. (though culturally I’ve been accustomed to cash being given as gifts or even in blessing, esp by elders, and I know at least one or two other cultures where cash can be the norm for gifts too). Kiara confiscated Olivia’s gift which she argues would help with self-defence 🤭 which happens to be one of my favourite moments in this chapter, and reminds me of this post an artist made of the MC’s baby shower long back. Idk why everyone sleeps on Kiara’s sheer entertainment value coz that girl possesses it in droves.

•

From our in-laws, we get a gift for the nursery - a cot mobile to place above the baby’s crib. These things are incredibly useful in the initial few months of a baby’s life when their visual development, eye-hand coordination and control over head and neck muscles are just about beginning. (and it’s cute and fun. What’s not to like). Unfortunately…unlike the nursery itself and the crib, you don’t get a free option for the cot mobile. You get a royal and rustic option + plus a neutral one with stars that I liked, but you have to pay even for that lovely neutral one. I’m guessing that the first two things from our nursery were “essentials” and whatever else we get now will be considered additional perks, thus paywalling even the options that don’t fit into your “royal or rustic” theme.

Each of the in-laws refer to a local/Cordonian craftswoman who made cot mobiles for the LIs. Leo gleefully tells us that Liam’s had “sparkles for days”, Bianca teasingly acts secretive about Drake’s. Hana never even knew she had a mobile coz she hasn’t seen a lot of baby photos of herself (I’m not sure what it’s meant to be an indication of yet, but I’m taking note of it). The one that really puzzles me is Maxwell’s. The writers don’t bother telling us what Maxwell’s is and instead make the bizarre choice to tell us what Bertrand’s cot mobile was instead. Why…the hell…would a Maxwell stan be interested in THAT. The writers don’t even specify if it was a hand-me-down (why was a family that rich and titled giving their younger one hand-me-downs) - nope, somehow it was a better choice to let us know that Bertrand’s was “silver grapefruit spoons”.

They should have done this for Drake also then, no? Talk about Savannah’s mobile instead of his? But noooo, Drake is too important, right. So let’s have his mother act all coy about his but make sure the sequence still centered around him.

At this point the writers should just nip this entire series in the bud if they’re not going even to bother writing equally good romances for all the LIs. One decently-done romance route doesn’t a good romance book make.

• In the middle of all this, the LI calls the MC into the hedge maze, presenting her with their own gift - a deep blue baby blanket with gold embroidery. How very Cordonia of them xD

• It’s a cute free LI moment where they show you how much they appreciate you, even in the midst of all this chaos and pandering of nosy royals.

• Once we’re back, it’s time to see if we passed our little diplomacy exam with these guys. Depending on the points you have with them, they will either back down convinced that even a normal alliance would work with Cordonia, or they will pressurize you further.

• Interestingly enough in the failplay, Amalas’ responses seem to imply that she would have more open to the idea of simply an alliance with the rulers sans marriage, but you can’t tell yet whether this is the writers trying to indicate to us that she is the choice, or whether she just isn’t being as ham-fisted as the Auvernese are. They lack subtlety, she’s more persuasive, but is she still someone you can trust? Since we’ve only seen her like twice before this sequence, I can’t quite tell yet.

• Kdjhshshsjssj @ Liam confiscating Maxwell’s armory access pass.

• The sales of “that book about us that has Maxwell’s face on it” are fantastic, and the publishers want Maxwell to do a book tour, the first signing of which is in Lythikos.

• We’re in Lythikos…for a book tour. Not even because Olivia found some information there or whatever (though I’m sure that will come up at some point next chapter), we’re there for a book tour that could have been done ANYWHERE.

• Places we could be having this book signing:

- Ramsford: Yknow, the author’s birthplace which we haven’t bothered visiting since our first Beaumont Bash in Book 1.

- Castelserraillian: Yknow, like the seat of art and culture and literature in Cordonia?? If there is one place in all of Cordonia I could easily picture as a literary hub it would be this one.

- No Valtoria coz we’ve seen plenty of it.

- Applewood: Yknow, that place that has many farmers, lots of commoners, who doubtless would have read this story of a commoner woman who climbed the ranks into royalty and glory. Applewood even has a public library that Queen Eleanor and her son regularly supported and visited. I’m sure many of the commoners in Applewood would have found that story even a little inspiring.

- Hana’s mysterious Cordonian homeplace: Just because the team is whack and we deserved better. They could have really made an effort to show her other home somewhere, yknow, considering they did such an awful job of Shanghai the last time.

• At this point we’ve seen Lythikos more than we have seen any other estate in this story. Sure, we can all spout out all sorts of excuses for why - plot, intrigue, Olivia’s character development (work on your own female LI first, PB!), but it all comes back to the same point: that the team is more willing to rob Hana of her rightful space and place it on Olivia’s lap. Setting this in Lythikos is re about the fact that, now that Drake has had more than his fair share of space, it’s Olivia’s turn to fulfill the role of secondary character but be treated like a main (all while Hana is thrown in as their token female LI + default POC LI, but treated with far less respect from her writers than even a secondary character).

• Overall, this is meant to be a light chapter - which most Chapter 16s (except for Book 2) are. Chapter 16 tends to be sandwiched between intense sequences, and is often seen as the point where the group and the LIs and MC can have fun but relax from court intrigue as well. It was the Beaumont Bash in Book 1, Vegas in Book 3, now a baby shower in TRH Book 1.

• Hana meeting her parents again (especially on her own playthrough), was nice, I guess. A little extra time is spent during the cot mobile scene having her parents acknowledge how they’d failed her, and the narrative shows us glimpses of her nervousness and discomfort while having the parents state that if she would rather they leave, they will respect that. It’s a tiny bit more progress compared to all the times Lorelai was continually repeating her mistakes and thinking they could be fixed each time with a paltry apology. But it’s still not enough.

• For one, we have just 4 chapters left in a book where half the time we were pandering to Drake’s family for chapters on end. We’re 16 chapters too late in addressing this. I have zero faith that things will improve.

For another, Hana getting this type of validation from her parents isn’t something that should be restricted to the playthrough where she is married alone. In both cases she invited them along, so in both cases they should be showing an equal level of caring and tentetiveness.

For a third, the whole angle with her parents seems to have such a disconnect. It’s almost like the writers were trying to prove something but didn’t do enough work to make it all sound coherent. Like you have this somewhat-healing relationship, but even then you have these moments that just don’t seem to make sense within Hana’s narrative, like Lorelai giving you that generic answer about your feelings suddenly becoming positive the moment they place the baby in your arms (which, btw, doesn’t always happen), or Xinghai talking about Hana’s ambition but there’s hardly any indication of how they controlled the directions her ambition would take. Overall they all sound like nice sequences by themselves but very disconnected to Hana’s actual story.

Why Hana hasn’t seen many baby pictures is something I want to see more of. I’m hoping that the fact that we see Lorelai, Xinghai and Leo in all the playthroughs, means they may accompany us on the book tour and perhaps we will get Hana-centric flashbacks and Liam-centric ones too.

• With next week, we’ll have only three chapters left, the intrigue is still in its nascent stages, the pacing is grossly uneven, and most of the LIs still don’t have a clear-cut arc. Some may claim that, well, it’s a series so maybe everyone else will get their “arc” in the next book. Except that if that were the case, Drake’s playthrough shouldn’t have been having the kind of focus on family that it’s been having this entire book. Others may claim that, well, it’s okay coz the story is about the baby and the romance - but they didn’t exactly do any justice to either of those. So what was this whole book about then? Besides Walker worship?

• The holiday special for TRR…is this going to be in Lythikos? Again??? Isn’t it bad enough that I will be going into TRM foolishly hoping to see Castelserraillian to get fair rep but know I’ll be confronted with with the reality of duchies like Lythikos getting a lion’s share of the story??

• That’s it for this chapter, guys. Until Saturday!

#long post #trh quick thoughts #trh qts #the royal heir #king liam #hana lee #maxwell beaumont #trr kiara #olivia nevrakis #drake walker

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kumkaniudaku · 6 years ago

Text

Meet the Parents: Three

A/N: FINALLY finished with this. My midterm paper was taking over my life. I have a few more prompts to do before I start working on spooky stuff for Wednesday! I hope you all enjoy. Also, the face claim for CoCo’s dad has changed.

Word Count: 4488

The journey through post-secondary education has its ups and downs. As much as an institution can be a site for cultivating and molding the minds of tomorrow’s leaders, it also serves as an arena for young people to navigate life’s challenges and triumphs. From making friends, leaving with enemies, passing classes with flying colors and falling flat for the second time, college provides an opportunity for growth.

For you and Chadwick, not only had both of you grown as individuals but also as two souls forever bonded by the Howard University experience and the quiet beginnings of a long friendship.

Sadly, all great experiences must end. The freshmen that hit it off in 1996 by accident were now semi-adults preparing for their last hoorah before real life started.

Chadwick sat at the foot of your bed, engrossed in the basketball game on the television, while you flipped through your photo album and reminisced.

“Oh my goodness, look at Tanisha,” you laughed. “I don’t know who told her that dressing as a cigar was a good Halloween costume, but I’m glad they did. This shit is hilarious.”

“It was probably the girl standing beside her dressed as the most low budget Lola Bunny that I’ve ever seen.”

“Shut the hell up Mr. Too Cool to Dress Up for a Halloween Party. I was cute that night.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t cute. I said your hand drawn jersey and dingy bunny ears looked low budget.”

Using the fact that his attention was elsewhere as an advantage, you flung a throw pillow at the back of his head. “I really can’t stand you. Go home.”

“I want you to act just like that during graduation this weekend. Don’t let me see one tear or I’m clownin’ you at the celebration dinner,” he answered as he leaned back to lay on the bed. “Speaking of the celebration, your folks eating with mine or are we doing two separate things?”

You thought for a moment, using the fringe on your pillowcase to distract you from the brown eyes peering up at you. You’d passed the Mr. and Mrs. Boseman test with flying colors, and your family was all but ready to marry you off tomorrow after only a few meetings with Chadwick. Separately, you both got along with each other’s families. But, you weren’t sure how situations would play out once the Greene and Boseman clans united.

“You think they’ll like each other? Our families?”

“Why wouldn’t they? My parents like you and your parents love me. We’re extensions of those that raise us right? It should work itself out.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then we’ll go get carry out together and eat it back at my place. It’s no big deal.”

“Everything is no big deal to you, Aaron.” Chadwick smirked and shrugged his shoulders. His nonchalant attitude about things not involving his work either infuriated or calmed your nerves. Today, it soothed your worries and helped you to make a concrete decision.

“Okay, let’s do it.”

Chadwick’s eyes shot from the television to your face to get confirmation of what exactly you were planning to do. “What’d you just say?”

“I said let’s do it!”

“Right here? Right now? I mean it’s kind of soon, and I was hoping it’d happen way different than this, but if you want, sure. Let’s do it!”

“Great! I’ll call my mom and dad and tell them we’re combining our parties! Should we match outfits? No, that’s too much. Red velvet or pound cake?” Your rambling became a background murmur in Chadwick’s ear once he realized how close he’d come to make an ass of himself.

After thanking God for saving him from an awkward mishap, he watched and listened to you plan the final get together before the inevitable separation occurred. You were taking a job offer to intern with the Hornets in Charlotte and Chadwick had long made the decision to pursue directing and writing in New York. For much of the Spring semester, the conversation about continuing the friendship long distance had been avoided. Neither of you were ready to think about life without the other.

Still, time can not slow down or be replaced. The days of the week began to blend together between parties, senior week activities, and graduation practice. Separate familial activities kept you and Chadwick away from each other Friday afternoon, leaving little room for serious conversation during a wild off-campus graduation party.

While you and Chadwick prepared for the grand entrance with fellow members of the Howard University Class of 2000, your separate groups of parents prepared for a meeting orchestrated by God himself.

“Where is Chadwick,” Carolyn asked, craning her neck around to look over the upper quandrangle housing the commencement ceremony. “First he wasn’t home this morning, and now I don’t see him here. The ceremony starts in ten minutes.”

“Then it makes sense why you wouldn’t see him out here then, right? The graduates aren’t just hanging around.”

Shifting her attention to her husband, Carolyn’s mouth opened to speak but closed as a family of three shuffled past her to take the last open seats in the area.

“Gerald, where is Tasha? The ceremony starts in eight minutes and she is nowhere to be found. She wasn’t at her apartment and she has yet to page me back. I will return that car to the lot the moment we get back home if she isn’t here.”

“Baby, the graduates don’t wait in the open before the ceremony,” Gerald answered. “C’mon, now. You’ve been through this before.”

Elaine’s mouth opened and closed, realizing that what her husband was saying was true.

“Don’t you hate when they’re right?”

Elaine whipped her head around to acknowledge the stranger, breaking into a small smile at the comment. “They never let you live it down. I guess that’s what happens when you’re wrong nine times out of ten.”

The women shared a laugh for a brief moment, helping each other to let go of some of the tension pent up from nervous energy.

“What’s your baby’s name?”

“Tasha Greene. She’s graduating from the School of Business.”

“So you’re the woman my son says I need to meet,” Carolyn laughed. “Now that I’m looking at you, I definitely see the resemblance.”

“I’m sorry, am I missing something,” Elaine asked with confusion taking prominence on her soft features.

“My son, Chadwick, talks about your daughter all the time. The beautiful ‘Miss CoCo’ is the topic of every conversation. Even when she doesn’t fit.”

The light bulb connecting names with stories illuminated Elaine’s mind, “Oh...my God! Chadwick is your son? Sweet little Aaron that ate my burnt meatloaf to be nice when everyone else criticized it? Girl, I owe you a thank you for checking in on my baby the way you do!”

“Owe me? I owe you! Lord knows my boy will eat you out of house and home if you let him. That week in Atlanta must’ve cost you a fortune.”

“Oh, girl, I’ve been raising two athlete daughters while married to a Marine. Trust me, he fit right in.

“So you know the struggle of keeping food in the house. I raised three boys and almost lived at the grocery store.” When the short bout of laughter subsided, Carolyn gave Elaine a small smile. “May I ask you a question? Mother to mother?”

“Absolutely. Unless it’s about Tasha’s manners. She takes after her father.”

Carolyn laughed and shook her head, “She’s been nothing but mannerable around me. My question is about our kids. Be honest with me, is Tasha...interested in my son at all? He thinks the world of her and I don’t want him to be hurt if she doesn’t feel the same way.”

“She is interested, but she’s afraid. If you ask her, he’s not looking to be in a relationship. I think she’s ignoring the signs to protect her heart. Again, she takes after her Daddy.”

“You know I can hear you right, Kitty,” Gerald interjected. “I’m sitting right here.”

The beginning of ‘Pomp and Circumstance’ sounded around the outdoor area, alerting the guests to the arrival of the honorees. Sharing a knowing look, the two women put their conversation on hold to prepare for the arrival of their graduates.

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

“Tasha Nicole Green, Magna Cum Laude. Chadwick Aaron Bose-,” last names and accomplishments were drowned out by the combined applause of both families despite the request to wait until all names were called.

“Look at our babies,” Elaine smiled through misty eyes. “They’re growing so fast.”

“Mhmmm. Growin’ and drinkin’ before they have to walk across the stage. I bet all the money in my husband’s wallet that Chadwick doesn’t think I can tell.”

“They never think we know anything. Tasha is wobbling in those shoes like a baby deer and it ain’t because I didn’t teach her how to wear a pair of heels. I’ll let her slide for now, though. It’s a big day and she’s grown.”

In the center of the action, you caught wind of the overwhelming hooping and hollering from the stands, tapping Chadwick on the bicep to pull him away from the moment and direct is attention to the section you were looking at.

“Looks like our mamas found each other without our help,” you laughed, pointing to their spot in the audience and earning a wave from the pair.

“I guess so. Saves us a lot of trouble. What you think they talkin’ about?”

“Probably how cute I look in these shoes. You can’t even tell I’m still a lit-tle bit drunk.”

“CoCo, everyone can tell you’re a little bit drunk. You haven’t walked in a straight line since we’ve been here,” Chadwick scoffed, stepping to the side to let you into the row to take your seat.

“Ah, shut up, hater.” A wobbly step before reaching your chair caught you by surprise and sent Chadwick into a fit of hushed giggles. He was right. You were still noticeably intoxicated despite your best attempts to eat and hydrate your body into sobriety. Turning to your best friend, you pulled your sunglasses down to reveal a horrified expression. “Oh my God, my mama is gonna kill me!”

“Relax. I’ve been drunk in front of my mama too many times to count, and she’s never noticed. Just follow my lead.”

“Last time I followed your lead I drunk four cups of hunch punch to chase the two beers you gave to me.”

“But, did you have a good time?”

You thought for a moment, the memories of the night prior making you smile. “Yeah.”

“Okay, then. Follow my lead. We’re all good.”

-----------

Sitting in your apartment free from the stuffy graduation robe that held you hostage in the late spring sun, you were beginning to realize that things were not “all good.” For the one-hundredth time since your mother and Mrs. Boseman had teamed up to lecture you and Chadwick on the dangers of excessive drinking, you cut your eyes at the man sitting beside you.

“And I know you think we don’t know, but you two aren’t good at hiding anything. We know a lot more than you think we do,” Carolyn ranted with Elaine adding a “mhmm” behind her.

“Right now, you don’t understand, but you will when you’re parenting your own kids and have to deal with them acting a fool in public.”

“Their dad can handle that. I’m gonna be a cool mom,” you mumbled.

“Chadwick, are you ready to handle that since this one will be a cool mom,” Elaine questioned.

“Me!? What do her bad kids have to do with mine?”

“Woah, Woah! My kids will not be bad! Let’s not forget that I’m the one that keeps us out of trouble.”

Carolyn and Elaine watched their offspring argue about potential parenting styles with broad smiles and a twinkle in their eye. Mothers have a way of seeing beyond the current moment, and though neither of you were privy to the knowledge they possessed, their shared intuition confirmed what they already knew.

In the kitchen, Leroy and Gerald were dealing with headaches of their own as they listened to Kevin and Tiana argue over nothing in particular. Tired of the bickering, and the rumbling in their stomach from the thought of eating after the draining ceremony, both men were prepared to put an end to the commotion around them.

“Alright, alright.”

“Hey!”

Talking ceased at their separate outbursts as both men looked at each other with surprised expressions.

“You go first, brother. I wasn’t tryin’ to interrupt you,” Gerald insisted.

“No, no. You go on ahead. This is technically your house.”

Gerald nodded before turning to the group across the apartment. “Now look, we done sat here and listened to y’all lecture these two grown ass people about drinking, and I’m tired of it. I’m ready to eat and I’m ready to eat right now, Kitty.”

“So they’re supposed to be able to do what they wanna do? Is that what you’re saying,” Carolyn asked with Elaine offering her nonverbal support with a glare at her husband.”

“Let the kids have fun. That’s what college is about. We ain’t ate since breakfast. Let it go!”

You and Chadwick shared quiet snickers at the notion that the chastisers were now being chastised. In a way, Mr. Boseman reminded you a lot of your best friend. His stance, laid-back yet oozing authority, made you think of the times he had “put his foot down” in situations where you unnecessarily argumentative. Chadwick’s mind simultaneously took in your mother’s demeanor and smiled at the near-identical posture. Elaine’s knuckles pressed into her sides with all of her weight on one leg took him back to moments when you *thought* you were scolding him for not listening while you spoke to him of leaving his shoes in the middle of the floor.

An intense battle of glares made the air thick between the parenting duos on each side of the argument until the mother’s relented with exasperated scoffs.

“Fine, Leroy! Just let the boy do whatever, I don’t care. We got a reservation to makes anyway.”

Turning on her heels, Elaine took a look at her husband and shook her head, “You spoil her, you know that? I expect you to pay the bill since she can be a drunk in public.”

“Now, Kitty-”

“I don’t wanna hear it. I have your checkbook anyway. It’ll get paid.”

Leaving Gerald stunned and Leroy in a silent fit of laughter, Elaine followed Carolyn out of the door and to the car. Gerald found the presence of mind to figuratively pick his jaw up from the ground before turning to address you and Chadwick.

“Y’all owe me.”

“You owe both of us. It doesn’t stop here. We’ll have to hear it long after y’all are out and getting drunk. Again! C’mon and get in this car before your mama blows the roof off of it.”

---------

“To the graduates,” Kevin exclaimed as he thrust his red plastic cup into the air to begin his toast. “May your careers be fruitful so you can take me to Cancun on your dime.”

“Kevin!”

“Sorry, mama,” Kevin apologized before shooting a wink your way. “We’ll talk, T.”

A careful tug to his jeans by Carolyn brought Kevin down from his standing position on the picnic table bench and back to his seat.

When your parents told you they had something special planned after your graduation dinner, you weren’t sure what to expect. Your mother hated everything about the outdoors other than her beloved sunflowers in the backyard, so desert at a nearby park was the last thing you thought you would be doing. What you assumed to be a quiet after party with close friends and family turned into a carefully planned scavenger hunt to reveal one of your graduation gifts: a used, all black Jeep Grand Cherokee with heated seats and 10 disk CD changer. Your excitement could barely be contained, though you wondered how the car would factor into the news that you still needed to share.

“Alright, Mr. Cool, it’s your turn to make a toast,” Gerald laughed, directing his comment to Chadwick who was lazily leaning against your shoulder and using his spoon to pick the pecans out of your ice cream like he always did. He knew you hated them and would take the time to make sure they “didn’t go to waste.”

Smoothing out his t-shirt, Chadwick took a moment to stand and raise his cup into the air.

“Uh, I guess I’ll start with a toast to my parents, both biological and adopted. Thanks, mama and daddy for helping me get through this with all the prayers and encouragement.”

“And money. Don’t forget all the money you cost us,” Leroy added.

“Yeah, and money.” The table shared a healthy laugh at Mr. Boseman’s interjection before Chadwick could continue. “Mrs. Elaine and Mr. Gerald, thanks for looking out for me when you could. I really appreciate it and promise to at least send a Christmas card every year, Maybe even stop by if I’m ever in the area.”

“You can’t just DeeBo my parents, Aaron.”

“Oh, hush, Tasha,” your mother answered as she waved off your comment. “Stop by anytime, Chadwick. There’ll always be some biscuits for you if Gerald doesn’t get to ‘em first.”

Your mother had been smitten with Chadwick from the night she met him, so it didn’t surprise you that she had no issue with inviting him over despite being notoriously reluctant to have guest outside of family and a select few friends inside the home.

Chadwick mirrored the way you stuck your tongue out like a child before turning his full attention to you. “Last, but not least, I wanna say thank you to my best friend in the world, even when she’s trying to tell me what to do. Without you staying up all times to help me finish projects or just making sure I had food to eat when I couldn’t always afford it, you’ve been a big part of my journey, and I wouldn’t trade you for anything. Except for some Braves tickets.”

After lightly shoving his side, you let Chadwick pull you into a hug once he took his seat. The heat of the late Spring sun paled in comparison to heat rushing to your cheeks. Your bronze skin prevented the scarlet hues below the surface from peeking through, but not enough to your feelings from the adults around the table. Parents and siblings shared knowing looks across the table, aware of the bubbling feelings between friends.

“Alright, alright, enough hugs, you two,” Gerald announce. “Pumpkin, it’s your turn.”

The group watched you stand and nervously run your sweaty palms down the sides of your summer dress. Chadwick paid special attention to the way your legs seemed to run for miles and thicken in the right places. He needed to remember all of his favorite parts of you to hold him when both of you split up to chase individual dreams. Charlotte, North Carolina was miles away from Harlem, and he wasn’t sure when he’d have the chance to see you again. Kevin clearing his throat and shooting him a playful glare brought Chadwick back to reality.

“I promise not to be long winded like Reverend C. Boseman over here,” you joked, earning an eye roll from Chadwick. “Thank you, Mommy and Daddy, for everything you’ve done to help me to this point. I love you guys so much. Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Boseman, for being my parents away from home and liking me more than Chadwick.”

“Ma, tell her that’s not true!”

“Hush, boy. Don’t be rude. Continue, CoCo.”

Again, Chadwick rolled his eyes, earning a light giggle from you. “Aaron, even though you get on my last nerve, thank you for always being there when I needed you. I can’t wait to tear up the city with you in a few weeks.”

Chadwick’s eyes widened at your revelation, matching the bewildered expression on your parent’s faces.

“Is Chadwick moving to Charlotte?”

“He sure as hell better not be,” Leroy mumbled as he took a sip from his cup. “His ass is going to Harlem.”

“Leroy!”

“Leroy, hell!”

“Tasha, what are you talking about? Explain yourself.”

Taking a deep breath, you turned your attention to your mother, “I am...no longer taking the internship in Charlotte. I decided to take a paid entry-level position in New Jersey with the Nets. I’ll be 20 minutes away from Manhattan and closer to you.” Your explanation ended with a smile at Chadwick that he gladly returned.

You were two weeks away from packing your car in preparation for a new life in Charlotte. The lease was set to be signed in three days, and your parents had already reached out to family and friends in the area to provided you with a safety net for when they couldn’t be around. The plan was in motion, and up until a week before graduation, you were excited about the new journey. But, when the opportunity came knocking for an immediate opening with an organization in desperate need of new ideas and an entry-level assistant complete with an above average salary and a relocation package, you answered the call. The idea of being closer to the man you were secretly in love with was an added bonus.

Chadwick could no longer contain his excitement as he bolted up from his seat to wrap his arms around you and lift you from the ground.

“Oh my, God, Co! Are you being a jackass or really telling the truth?”

“I’m telling the truth,” you answered while giggling at the way he playfully tickled your sides. “I was gonna tell you this morning, but I figured I’d let everyone know at the same time. I hope you’re not mad mama and daddy.”

Elaine and Gerald stared at each other, occasionally looking across the table at Carolyn and Leroy who were just as confused.

“Well, I ain’t mad,” Tiana exclaimed to break the tension. “Can I come stay with you for Spring Break, T?”

“No!”

“Yes.”

Tiana looked between you and Chadwick for a concrete answer to her question. “Are y’all gonna do me like Mom and Dad? I’ll just stay home if it’s gonna turn into all that.”

“You can’t tell her she can stay at my place, Aaron. Let her stay at yours if you want her to come so bad!”

“Stay at home. Tiana. That nigga is broke already and he ain’t even moved yet,” Kevin answered.

Chadwick opened his mouth to respond before being cut off by your mother.

“Tasha, while I’m excited for you, I’m a little worried. Where will you live? You don’t have any family that far north. How will you adjust on such short notice? Do you even know exactly where you’ll work?”

“We just want you to be safe, Pumpkin.”

“I understand, Daddy, but I have it all figured out! The team has found me housing that I think you guys will approve of, and they’ve committed to five months of relocation. I’ve spoken to my direct supervisor and they’re excited to have me on board. As far as family, I have Chadwick and Kevin. They’re like family, right?”

Silence hung in the air as your parents attempted to process the new information. Reaching over the table, Carolyn gave Elaine’s hand a squeeze.

“We’ll make sure she’s alright. You don’t have to worry.”

“If it’s one thing I taught my boys, it’s how to stick together. They’ll take care of her.”

With reassurance from newfound friends, Elaine and Gerald turned to you with a smile.

“Well, alright! My Pumpkin is moving to the city. I don’t know how we’ll get a damn car that far North, but we’ll figure it out!”

The brief moment of commotion at the table allowed Chadwick to pull you away from the table inconspicuously to walk toward the nearby fountain.

Chadwick stole glances at you along the way, sporting a goofy smile that you didn’t notice until you turned to speak to him.

“What are you smiling about, Ashy?”

“You specifically told me the North was way too cold for you. Six months later, you’re moving to New Jersey. You were gonna miss me too much, huh?”

“What,” you exclaimed, feigning confusion. “I moved to work with my favorite team!”

“You hate the Nets. You called Scott Burrell a fucking bum the other day.”

“I did not!” Chadwick quirked his eyebrow at your blatant lie, waiting for you to come clean. Dropping the act, you let out a short laugh and looked away. “Okay, so, yeah, I would miss you a little bit. A lot, actually. But, this was also a better opportunity! Who knows the places I’ll end up with this type of experience?”

“You’ll go wherever you want, Champ. I’m happy for you.” Chadwick used his fist to nudge your shoulder before taking a seat beside you on the edge of the fountain. Extending his arm, he pointed toward the picnic table to direct your attention to the conversation between both sets of parents. “What you think they’re over there talking about?”

“Knowing my mama, she’s talking your mama’s head off about me and you being together again and all the trouble we might get into.”

“She’d be correct, then.” A sly smile slid across Chadwick’s face, worrying you with what was going on in his overactive mind.

“Oh, no. No. Whatever you’re thinking, the answer is no.”

“C’mon! Give me a second to explain!”

While Chadwick attempted to pull you into one of his plans for a fun outing in New York, conversations of the future transpired between the Boseman and Greene families. In a way, Chadwick was right. They were discussing your futures together, but in a wildly different context.

“So, who do you think will be the one to own up to their feelings first,” Carolyn asked. “My money is on my son.”

“Really? I’m betting on Tasha. I’m surprised she’s gone this long with her feelings hidden. She usually wears her heart on her sleeve.”

“Whoever says it first, just know it’s tradition for the bride’s father to pay for the wedding.”

“Don’t remind me,” Gerald groaned. “Just make sure y’all tell us about every movie Chadwick writes or stars in so we can add to this wedding fund. If they’re both wealthy, we won’t have much to worry about.”

The table erupted in laughter before all four heads turned to look over at the spirited banter between old friends and budding lovers.

Raising his glass, Leroy proposed the last toast of the evening.

“To family. We’re happy to have y’all on board.”

Elaine and Gerald followed suit with raised cups and proud smiles. “To family.”

__________

TAGS: @njadont @k-michaelis @wakandanmoonchild @idilly @texasbama @afraiddreamingandloving @inxan-ity @daytimeheroicsonly @onyour-right@brianabreeze @sisterwifeudaku @ironsquad @killmongerdispussy @90sinspiredgirl @willowtree77785901 @maynardqueen101 @heyauntieeee @halfrican-heat @purple-apricots @lalapalooza718 @blue-ishx @profilia @ljstraightnochaser @girl-wtf-lmao @dramaqueenamby @royallyprincesslilly @melaninmarvel @thiccdaddy-mbaku @lavitabella87 @purplehairgawdess @unholyxcumbucket @airis-paris14 @uhlxis @oshasimone @maliadestiny @drsunshine97 @cozyshack2 @zxddy-panther @queentearra @skysynclair19 @retro-melanin @mermaidchansons @misspooh @melanisticroyalty @babygirlofwakanda @wakanda-4evr @sarahboseman @karensraisns @blackmissmarvel @wakandankings @kaykay4454fan @ororowrites @awkwardlyabstract @mixedmelanin @brownsugarcocoabutterwildflowers @sunflowerpsalms @panthergoddessbast @justanotherloveaffair @jaeee-http @iliketowrite1996 @blackpantherismyish @thompettiedatheaux @msincognito67 @reignsxjackson @yaachtynoboat711@syreanne @ilcb7@minim236 @yoyolovesbucky

#Chadwick Boseman #chadwick boseman imagine #chadwick boseman x reader #chad x coco #coco x chad

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curupiracue · 6 years ago

Text

Ascending Art Train

! He is advancing towards me...! I need to erase myself from existence, fas-

FOOOOOOOM!

“Guh!”

“Novalue!”

“This thing... It's not quite as strong as the arm, but it's way too fast... In but a second it rammed me and pushed me along while it started to fly…”

“Fast indeed! And it will only get faster as time goes on and I consume more mentality.” Ienorb warned, his upper body stretching from the top of the train and right in front of me, while his arms ripped off Jesus. Did he turn his entire lower body into a train?

“This train represents my unending desire to improve my art! It’s full of risks and as such, I’ve never once used this before, but still! It’s what’ll ensure my victory…!”

Guh… All this… Is just his love for art given form? What an obsession… And that’s not all. He’s linked to it, so it’s linked with the very depths of his mind. It’s his core… No wonder it has such power.

Well, but I never cared for sheer power. Risks, you say? Weaknesses? I can think of two… Since you’re taking a chunk of your mind out, and since it’s your first time using this… I bet you can’t think straight while using it. And linked to that… You probably don’t have access to your other constructions.

Moreover…

“...Sorry to say, Ienorb, but my Unreality all but ignores “strength” or “resistance”. It erases everything, no matter how powerful. ...Well, it’s limited by range, so I won’t be able to get rid of you that quickly.”

“However...”

That will not stop my escape…!

Zwooosh!

...Nor my date with the ground.

“Nim… It’s not like I care that much how I fall, but… You could have caught me, yes?”

I escaped by turning part of it unreal, but not only can it easily escape from that, I also can barely move… At least this will give me som-

PROP.

FOOOOOOOM!

W-What? I thought it would escape from it… But instead… it broke…?

It broke the unreal area?!

How strong is this fucking train?

I look back and see the train descending right at me. Only now could I have a glimpse of it, which immediately made me wish I hadn’t. Of course, mentalities are weird in general, but that monstrosity was beyond words, and only vaguely looked like a train...

It started with a long stairway which gave birth to a train at about a third of it’s length, while also separating itself and becoming multiple stairs that accompanied the rest of train, some floating, others being loosely tied into it, and many of them broken. The train itself was made of a mix of broken wood, distorced steel and many kinds of living tissue, starting with simpler lifeforms and working their way into plants and animals at the top. From the tissue there came giant eyes the size of a human, connected by a red optical nerve.

The eyes moved and stared around frantically, nervously, chaotically, and seemed to summon illusions wherever they looked. Nearing the end of the train, at Ienorb's general area, lied a ring with a metal pipe connect to a hornet that made it's hellish sounds, and all sorts of random objects could be seem stretched around.

FOOOOOOO-

Zwoosh, Plash!

Before the train could hit me again, and before I could enter unreality, I felt a cold liquid enveloping me and pulling me away.

“Sorry… I didn’t react in time before… Are you okay?”

Before I could answer that worried question, the train hit the ground, shattering into many pieces and splinters, some of which flew at us.

“That’s goo-”

FOOOOOOOOM!

It rearranged itself and flew upwards, before making a curve towards us.

This… Is truly indestructible… It has no weaknesses…

“Guh… Why am I not even surprised…?” I say, while trying (a bit futilely) to get up.

“! What the hell are you doing!? YOU’RE HALF DEAD, FOR… Ugh! Your powers aren’t fit to fight this thing! J-Just hide! NOW!”

As much as I hate to admit, he is right... Still, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't get a jab in before...

“Aw... look who is worried…” I manage to say before...

...vanishing.

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected with a different sense)

At the moment, I was so shocked and... scrd, that I could not react in time, only watch as Novalue dated the ground.

“Nim… It’s not like I care that much how I fall, but… You could have caught me, yes?”

Oh g-nobody, is he alright? I swooped in closer, in spite of the sheer needlessness of doing so in the mental world.

Thankfully, he seemed well.

...in spite of my sheer incompetence.

PROP.

FOOOOOOOOM!

W-W-What...? It destroyed the unreal area?

Novalue looked upwards in fright, as the train descended on him.

Before there could be any showdown, however, I quickly grabbed and pulled him out of the way.

“Sorry… I didn’t react in time before… Are you okay?” It was a senseless question, but at the moment I said so, I was overcome with more fear and sadness than anger.

Before he could answer, the train did a sharp turn while hitting the ground and then rearranged itself, like someone making up their new identity after coming out of the closet, mmcept nowhere near as cool given the circumstances.

“Why am I not even surprised…” Novalue said, before doing a motion I recognized as trying to get up.

What. THE. FUCK!?

“! What the hell are you doing!? YOU’RE HALF DEAD, FOR… Ugh! Your powers aren’t fit to fight this thing! J-Just hide! NOW!”

“Aw... look who is worried…”

In spite of saying so, he obeyed, hiding in an unreal area.

But still...

That... THAT IMBECILE. Ugh!

"At least he is safe now..." I push this thought out of my mind. Not necessarily because the situation called for a clear state of mind, I would have done it anyways...

FOOOOOOOOOM!

“Hmmph. I don’t know how to harm you, so a direct confrontation won’t do me any good. Water Rope!”

Plashplashplashplash!

For now, I suppose I’ll run away…

FOOOOOOOOOM!

The train made a sharp turn towards me, breaking a large part of it that rather quickly reassembled itself.

“Oh come on!” He lost some speed, but it wasn’t as much as I was hoping. Making my escape will be rather difficult…

“I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you won't be able to escape.” Ienorb said, with a hint of melancholy “The train has already picked up speed! And any attacks you unleash on it will only spell your doom, as it will absorb them to grow and ascend to an ever higher speed…”

“It really is faster than before... However! You would do well not to underestimate me! Since the properties of water are much more valuable than those of fear, it is easier to forget that this emotion is the origin of this power of mine. But in doing so, you would fail to realize that it only grows stronger when I'm in a pinch! Just try and corner me with that speed of yours! Try it! My own speed will only grow stronger, giving me the edge! In addition... Take this!

Floosh, PLASHU!

“So I see you have restricted my train with those water tentacles of yours... I must say, they have grown quite the incredible reach... However.” at this point the train split in half at the part enveloped by my rope, and then promptly reunited itself again, without losing any speed or suffering permanent damage.

“W-what the...!?”

“Hahahah...! You were saying things about underestimation, but you've made the hypocrisy of underestimating my Ascendent Art Train! I have complete domain over how it moves, keeping it functional even when shattered to pieces!”

”Impo... Ugh! What about this then!?” I threw various water balls behind me, making then explode. In response, the train did a sharp turn backwards and then turned around to my direction, barely getting scratched by the pseudo bombs.

FOOOOOOOOOM!

“Oh for...! GAAAH!!”

How can I even beat this? It's got to be the strongest power ever!

No, thinking back, he lost quite a bit of speed in that dodge over there... If that train is the manifestation of his desire to achieve objective art, it makes sense that it reacts badly to emotions. The explosion managed to hit him, if barely, and that area is now burned off. It was permanent damage, or at least semi-permanent. This thing… It might be as unstoppable and implacable as his desires in ordinary circumstances, but it still gotta' have some weak spots. And considering how he refrained to use this until now, I'm guessing they must be pretty big, nothing as simple as just getting more hurt by emotion-based constructions This is no novel where the villains and heroes always wait until the last moment to unleash their strongest powers, after all…

Still... To think I would fight a manifestation of self-improvement, of all things... This irony is biting my chest...

Perhaps more pressingly than that, even if I can damage it with certain metaphors, that still leaves hitting that damn blitz... I guess I could try to wait for it to lose steam and slow down, but I have a feeling I would lose a battle of endurance and attrition here… In fact, I can already feel myself becoming a bit tired, my mind, numb. It’s not like I used my powers that much, but I got hit quite a bit, and using Water Rope at these speeds is putting a very much serious strain on me.

“...If you're just gonna' get faster and faster, I guess I'll have to stop you on your non-existent tracks right here.”

In response, he glared at me:

“...hmm…”

“Suspicious? Hehah, for good reason. I have a little theory of mine…”

“...that I'd like to test!”

There! I threw quite a few more Water Bombs…

...With a space in the midst of their collective explosion for the train to neatly pass through!

It’s a great deal… He doesn’t lose speed, nor does he get hit. Ienorb wouldn’t let this pass, specially if his mind and judgement is too clouded to consider traps. Unless of course…

...The train made another sharp turn backwards.

“HEEHEHEHHAHAHAAHEHHAH! Hell yeah! I got it right! Ienorb, that train of yours… has acceleration and speed, while also being able to make sharp turns. However… They’re too sharp! You have a powerful handle, but not an accurate one! Just like your researches into art, it’s aimless! Meaning, it must feel like driving a car with a slippery wheel, am I right?!”

“No, it feels like driving a train with a slippery wheel. This is a train, not a car.”

...

So anyway. Not only is the train not suited for precise movement, he is also in a dream-like state… There’s a way to defeat it then.

First off, I’ll start going upwards as well as forwards with my Water Rope…

“Don’t think of it, Nim! The train can easily make a curve towards you!”

“Yeah, but who said that wasn’t what I desired, unintelligent Ienorb?”

“?!”

“I mean, think about it… You’re now behind me and below me, simultaneously. Meaning, I can do… this!”

I threw some Water Bombs… not behind me… But right on front of me!

And that explosion send me backwards, the train now being below and in front of me…!

“You think you can escape by changing your trajectory like that? It won’t work… Don’t underestimate my reflexes Nim!”

FOOOOOOOOOM!

Suddenly, the train did one of it’s usual sharp turns, breaking part of itself in pieces and coming straight towards me.

“...Hah.”

And in response, I merely grabbed it with Water Rope and pulled. He immediately broke that part in pieces, but that was hardly a problem. I had already gotten what I wanted…

...Getting a boost to go downwards!

And while passing through a shocked Ienorb, I made sure to tell him:

“I’ve managed to properly analyze your train. It loses speed and power when in pieces, and your imprecise movement also cripples your reconstructions, making them take longer than they could. Well, up until now, you’ve handled sharp turns well… But they were only moderately sharp. Now, I wonder how you like… this 270º turn!”

“What?!”

“Don’t underestimate my guile. Ienorb.”

PUFF

“What the?! He went straight to the ground? Darn… I can’t be sure where he is… The psychic, mental dirt is covering his signals, and my Identification is rendered weak by this form… Bah, no matter! I’ll merely enter the dirt and go after him!”

FOOOOOOOOOM!

Hmmm…

Ienorb will lose some speed before making the full turn. Meanwhile…

PUFF

“Hmmm… I can’t see very well here… Still… I can feel some sort of power nearby. Meaning, Nim can’t be far...”

PLASH

“Huh?! I hit something?! ...But this is...!”

“Water Rope. More specifically...”

I pull and swing it, taking the train out of underground and slamming it.

BRAAAAAMMM!!!

FOOOOOOOOOM...!

“A net made of Water Rope!”

“How can this?!”

“I entered the ground before you. That gave me a few moments… To build a net with Water Rope there, catch you in it like a fish, and then easily smash you!”

“Guh! You caught me by surprise…. hence, why I failed to divide in time. But I’ll escape this net! It’s caused some damage, but hardly anything significant… I’ll just divide myself!”

FOOOOOOOOOM!

“Hee. Thank you, Ienorb.”

“?”

“You’ve helped me much indeed! Since it’s on pieces right now, the damage inflicted will be much larger...”

BBBAAAAAAAAMMMMMM!!!

“The damage inflicted by the collect explosion of all the ropes that composed that net, that is.”

foooosh…

The wind blew, and the smoke cleared, revealing Ienorb and his train, in pieces and smaller than before, as well burnt and crushed.

“Guh… This won’t stop me! You’ve made the mistake of letting the train be pointed towards you! I don’t need any curves, I’ll just go straight towards you and finish you off!”

“It’s all but outright pulverized, and almost unrecognizable… Yet you can still control it?”

FOOOOOOOOOM!

“However, it’s useless.”

FOOOOOOOOOM...?

“What?! What?! Why can’t I mooooove!? AH!”

“You finally noticed? One of the Water Ropes that composed that net didn’t explode. That’s because I put an overclock to increase it’s resistance to explosions. I made it go around your train and maintain itself as a circle, and then I left it there, with no further contact or imput to and from me. And I also put another overclock on it… One that increased it’s weight.”

“YOU… UGH! Fine! I’ll divide, and run away!”

FOOOOOOOOOM!

BAAAAM!

The two overclocks exploded alongside the Water Rope, and tossed half of the train away, making it impossible for Ienorb to reunite himself with it.

“Just at the time I predicted. And now, Ienorb, you’ve lost.”

“Hah! Nim, you believe I’ll make the curve too late, don’t you? It’s true, I’m in an awful shape… but still! I can make that curve way before that! I won’t get close enough to you and your Water Ropes! I’ve totally wo-?!”

“What the… Why… Did the train suddenly sprint like that? Why did it go with increased speed? This isn’t the train’s natural speed, so what boosted it…? ...! NO! It can’t be!”

“It can. I put an overclock to you while I was rising to the surface. You were too preoccupied with the Water Rope to notice it. That overclock… Increased your speed...”

“No, no, no!”

“...And in doing so...”

“NO NO NO NO!!!”

“Brought you right to my...”

“STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!!!!!!”

“MY RANGE, IENORB YENRUOJ! TAKE THIS! WATER ROPE!”

PLASHPLASHPLASHPLASHPLASHPLASHPLASHPLASHPLASH

WAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAH!

The Water Ropes… Pierced and whipped and slashed and crushed and destroyed the train.

And then…

BBBBAAAAMMM!

All of the Water Rope I had left… Exploded.

Leaving the train in small pieces floating in the air.

TAM!

Vish…

...Which were disintegrated when the speed overclock reached it’s end.

Pam.

“Looks like your objective art... was an illusion, after all.”

#stories #Mywhatamentalworld

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the-kings-tail-fin · 7 years ago

Note

Can I get a fic of docs crash (plus a little of his recovery) from his POV? Oki thx

Ha. They should have known not to leave the inside open.

A smile crept across my face as I came out of the drift and onto the straight, leaving the other racers in my rearview. With nothing but the open track in front of me, I strained to gain a little more speed. Taking the lead, yeah sure, that was commendable, but I knew I could do better. It was time to give the spectators a win they wouldn’t soon forget.

Fireball Beach was a favorite track of mine, right beneath reliable ol’ Thomasville. Pushing myself along the sand next to the ocean made me feel more powerful than ever. I wasn’t just competing against the other racers, I was challenging the waves, the might of the earth itself. And that day, I was winning.

“Last lap!” someone yelled from the infield. I couldn’t tell who, but it didn’t matter. I had a solid three second cushion now between myself and the others, and I could already feel the trophy and taste the brews we were going to celebrate with that night.

The crowd was going wild. It wasn’t often a racer won by this large of a lead, and while some preferred the lip-biting excitement of a close race, these folks seemed thrilled to have otherwise. I moved to the outside lane to give them a small gesture of appreciation by way of leaving a cloud of dust over those nearest to the track as I sped by. My fans knew this signaled an inevitable win. i had no other reason to keep away from the inside.

I never saw the rut as I rounded turns one and two and entered onto the straightaway. I glanced over at the ocean for a mere second, and in the time it took me to mentally challenge the water one last time that day, I’d felt something give as I hit the dip in the ground.

They were never quite sure what it was - the dirt giving way a little? A stray patch of sand? My A-arm bending? I guess it doesn’t really matter. Whichever it was, it threw me off my line, and in doing so, pushed me into a loose layer of dirt. Once there, there was no overcorrecting or undercorrecting. Just three things: vertigo, pain, and shock.

The tumble is a little fuzzy in my mind. I’ve learned more about it from watching that old video reel than from actually living the experience. I closed my eyes the second I saw the ground coming, and next thing I knew, I was right-side up again, but in pieces. I wasn’t the Fabulous Hudson Hornet anymore. I was a smoking heap of twisted metal.

Finish the race. You gotta finish.

That was the first thing that crossed my mind. Not ‘Am I okay?’ or ‘Send for help.’ or even ‘Good Chrysler, this hurts a lot.’. I couldn’t feel anything right then, and I could still see the finish line. The racers… they were still behind! I could still win!

But then I tried to move. Turned out I wasn’t resting on my undercarriage just to take a little weight off my tires. I collapsed into the sand again, experiencing the cruelest of pains. I couldn’t move. ‘Broken’ wasn’t an appropriate word to describe how I felt. ‘Wrecked’ is a little more descriptive, but it doesn’t really capture what I was feeling inside of my crippled body.

Totaled. I was totaled.

Time is most elusive when you’re unconscious. Hours can pass by as you nap, but months can pass while under reconstruction. But, to be honest with you, I would have much rather been unconscious than awake during my repairs. I couldn’t tell you what they did to fix me, but it was nothing short of witchcraft at the time. Smokey’s really was the best darn garage in town, and in all of North Carolina for that matter.

“Good as new.” Smokey’d simply said when he woke me up for the final time, no less than a week before the season started. “You ready to show them what you’ve got?”

I didn’t feel the need to answer. My revving engine did the job just fine.

Lucky for me, the first race of the season was in Thomasville, and I didn’t have to drive any further than to the end of the road to arrive. I felt great. ‘55 was going to be my best year yet.

“Lookin’ good, Hud.”

“Aww, man! I thought I might actually get a win in this year.”

“Woo-wee. Check you out!”

My fellow racers - my friends - immediately welcomed me back to the pack, and it felt so right. I was at home again. This was where I belonged. I entered the stadium and started searching for my crew and Smokey. I remember thinking it was funny that they weren’t set up in their normal spot. This was our home track - what did they do to miss out?

Were they even there? I looked and looked forever. I might have been thirty seconds, total. They weren’t anywhere to be found. Except Smokey. I finally found him.

But I was confused. He was surrounded by race officials over at their stand, getting heated about something. Smokey never got mad. He was the type to just get disappointed and move on. But this Smokey was livid. I hesitantly motored over to see what was going on. I’d never been nervous at a race before that day.

And I never would again. They all saw me coming and immediately ceased arguing. Smokey set his eyes on me, but wouldn’t make direct eye contact. One of the race officials announced something to the group, and they dispersed, leaving Smokey sitting there alone.

“What’s going on?” I asked, coming closer.

Smokey was silent for a few seconds. I almost regretting asking the simple question.

“They’re not letting you race.” Smokey’s voice was tinged with anger. “They thought you’d never recover enough to race so they brought in another rookie. I’m sorry, Hud, I tried to talk ‘em out of it. But it’s final. It’s not our decision to make.”

Smokey slowly drove off, not giving anyone the time of day as he exited the track premises. I sat there, completely dumbfounded.

I can’t race? But I can. I practiced yesterday. I’m fine.

The moment Smokey disappeared, I started to panic. This couldn’t be the end. Not after everything I’d done. I caught a glimpse of the race official that seemed to have had the final say in the matter. I was moving before it even registered that I wanted to approach him.

“Sir!” I called out. “Sir, hey, are you serious? I’m ready to race. I know I can.”

I thought I caught a hint of sadness on that old pickup’s face as he turned to look me over. I’d seen him before. He attended nearly every race. He might have even cheered me on a few times.

He sighed. “Don’t take it personally, kid. You’re history, but history that’ll be remembered.”

“But - “

He drove away before I could say anything more.

Couldn’t he see it? Couldn’t he see how much I had left to give?

#doc hudson #smokey #i am so out of practice with first person #i hope you like this!#i tried to write it as if he was looking back at it telling a story

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asflowersfade · 7 years ago

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Scribble-Doodle: Let’s Nuke Edom!

What if Magnus told Alec no in 220? What if Alec and Izzy had to seal the rift without his help? How would they do it?

“What do you mean he said no?” Izzy asks in disbelief.

Alec leans against the computer table. “Exactly that, Magnus said no.”

She stares at him for a moment. “Did you tell him about the Seelie Queen’s betrayal? That she joined forces with Valentine?”

Alec sighs. “He already knew.”

“Did you tell him about the demons? About the rifts?” Izzy’s voice is full emotions and rising slightly.

“He already knew, Iz,” Alec replies quietly.

Izzy takes a step closer. “Did you tell him--”

Alec lifts a hand to cut her off. “Izzy! He slammed the door in my face before I could say anything more. Magnus is not coming. He won’t help us close the rift. Accept that. Move on. We’ll have to deal with it on our own.”

Throwing her hands up, Izzy exclaims, “How? Rune magic isn’t strong enough to close a rift of this size, you know that.”

“Yes, I know!” Alec snaps, finally losing his patience. “I know that, you don’t have to remind me. We’ll just have to think of something.”

Gritting her teeth, Izzy leans against the table, too. “Alright, alright,” she mutters, taking a deep breath and letting it out again. “The shield’s up, so we can’t get in reinforcements. The warlocks won’t help us, so we’re on our own. What do we have that we can use?”

After a lengthy pause, Alec says, thinking out loud, “Demons react badly to pure adamas, right?”

“Yes,” Izzy nods. “But the only piece of raw adamas that we have is the stone you used to track down Jace. And you could barely smash a fly with that one. We have our weapons, of course, those are made of adamas, too, but I very much doubt that dumping them into the rift would help.”

Alec freezes as his mind stumbles across an idea so insane… that it might actually work. ”Izzy…”

“I was joking, Alec!” she protests, rolling her eyes.

Straightening up, Alec points at her. “No, no, you were actually onto something there. Since we can’t use warlock magic that would close the rift from our side, we need something that would close it from the other side, from Edom. We need something so powerful that, when dropped into the hole, the following explosion would collapse the rift.”

She straightens up, too. “And do we have something like that?”

With a pointed look, Alec waves his hand, index finger still outstretched, around.

Izzy’s eyes widen. “You can’t be serious.”

Alec tilts his head and raises his eyebrows challengingly.

“You want to drop the angelic power core down the rift?” she asks in utter disbelief.

“It will certainly do the job,” Alec replies.

“Yeah,” Izzy drawls sarcastically, “and take out half the city with it! It’s the angelic core, Alec. It has the power of a small nuclear weapon!”

He nods. “And that’s exactly what we need to close the rift.”

She shakes her head. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am. Perfectly.”

Izzy closes her eyes, still shaking her head. Then she says, “Even if we decided to do this - and that’s a big if! - how would you want to set it off? With a remote detonator? I very much doubt it would cover the distance to another realm! With a timer? We don’t know how deep the rift is. It could fall for a whole minute and still not drop deep enough to seal it when it explodes!”

“That won’t be a problem,” Alec says with not a hint of doubt in his voice, “the core won’t explode till it reaches Edom. It’s made of blessed adamas. It’ll simply burn through anything less substantial than the demon realm itself. But once it gets there, it’ll be like lighting a match in a room full of gas.”

“Right. So, if that won’t be the problem, what will?” Izzy asks, her voice full of sarcasm again.

“We’ll have to make sure that it actually reaches its destination,” Alec explains. “Because demons are dumb creatures but they’re not that dumb. They’ll soon realize what we’re up to and they’ll try to stop us at any cost.”

Izzy raises her eyebrows. “Like how? Carry it out of the rift? You said it yourself, the moment they touch it, they’ll disintegrate!” she points out.

Alec raises his eyebrows, too. “You think they’ll care? Driven into the frenzy by their masters, they’ll die by the dozens to stop us, if need be. Because once that core explodes, it won’t just seal the rift, it might take out a part of Edom, too, for all we know. It does have the power of a small nuke, after all.”

Izzy rubs her forehead. “Raziel, I can’t believe we’re even contemplating doing this!”

Alec throws his hands up. “If you have a better idea, I’m all ears.”

“Alec,” she says, looking up at him, “if we disengage the core, we’ll lose the wards, all the protections here, at the Institute, everything! If we do this and we fail, we might lose the whole city!”

“And if we don’t seal the rift, we will lose the city. There’s simply not enough of us to kill all the demons pouring out of the rift and without the warlocks’s help, we can’t close it. If we don’t do something, we will fail for sure,” he replies.

They stare at each other for a long moment, then Izzy mutters in resignation, “What the hell. Let’s nuke Edom!”

Everyone’s there, on the beach, every single Shadowhunter who’s able to lift a weapon, from the common foot soldier to computer geeks, armed to the teeth. And in their midst, the angelic core, strapped to a stretcher.

Several yards away, the rift into Edom yawns, spitting out howling demons and emanating an eerie red glow. It looks like the gates of hell.

“Alright,” Alec calls out. “Half of you archers stays with me, the rest goes with Izzy. We’ll make sure the core’s delivered to where it’s supposed to go. You’ll cover our backs. Once the creatures figure out what we’re up to, they’ll try to stop us. You need to give us enough time to do our job. The rift needs to be closed or we’re all dead. Is that understood?”

They all nod grimly, determination, apprehension and downright fear are written all over their faces. But they’ll do their job. Or die trying.

Izzy looks up at her brother, then she lifts herself up on her tiptoes and kisses him on the cheek. “Be careful, big brother,” she whispers in his ear.

He hugs her quickly around the shoulders and whispers back, “You too!”

Then they separate and with one last nod, they head out to fulfill their duty.

The moment the angelic core’s dropped into the rift, falling down and down and down the hole, resembling a bright white-blue star headed for the gaping reddish mouth of Edom, it seems as if they kicked the hornet’s nest. Demons start crawling and flying and slithering up the rift, trying to catch the shining spec of blessed power, but it keeps dropping and dropping, burning through limbs and wings and even bodies, still aiming for Edom.

And the archers at the lip of the hole keep firing runed arrows down at the larger demons that could, maybe, with a lot of determination, slow down their angelic bomb. They keep firing and killing everything that tries to crawl out of the hole in a desperate attempt to save itself, too, not letting anything get past. And on the beach, Izzy’s soldiers fight the beasts rushing in from the city to try and stop them…

Then, the angelic core explodes and a wave of white-blue energy shoots up the rift, burning all the demons in its way and pouring out of the hole and across the beach, too, balling over the Shadowhunters fighting there and turning the demons into dust before petering out and dissipating altogether, while the rift itself implodes with a silent, barely audible pop.

When it’s all over and the demons are gone and the rift is sealed, Izzy picks herself up, spitting out sand and wiping away blood from her eyes. Her first thought is for her brother, who was right there, at the edge of the rift when it collapsed on itself.

“Alec!” she screams, turning around and around, trying to find him.

But there’s nothing there, not even a slight indentation in the sand where the rift used to be. The gate to Edom’s gone - and everyone who was in the vicinity of it when it went disappeared together with it.

“Alec!” Izzy screams again, tears flooding her burning eyes.

But no one answers, the beach is eerily quiet, all of the people around her, her soldiers, seem dazed, but her brother’s not among them, her brother’s nowhere to be seen.

“Alec!”

Alec’s lying on a dust covered pavement, blanketed by darkness pierced with dim red glow. He can barely see in the gloom but he doesn’t need to. He has a terrible suspicion he knows where he is.

He hurts. He hurts so much. He doesn’t want to move because every twitch sends agony flaring through his body. He remembers standing at the edge of the rift, shooting arrows down the hole, picking off demons trying to escape. And then… then the angelic core exploded and its energy shot upwards and out, before reversing its course and pulling everything back in - and everyone. Him included.

Alec fell. He fell through the rift before it closed. Raziel, he thinks, staring up at the swirling, bruised looking sky, at the boiling, red-streaked clouds. Raziel…

There’s a sound, a scuttering sound, first to one side, then the other. All around him. A whisper of a growl, chittering.

For a second, Alec freezes, then slowly, biting his lip to stop himself from crying out in agony, he pulls out his Seraph Blade and as its runes flare up white-blue, more brightly than ever before in reaction to the strong demonic presence, he can see that he’s in the courtyard of a palace - or what used to be one. Now it’s just a smoking ruin, demolished by the angelic core’s explosion.

“My, my,” echoes an amused voice from the deep red shadows. “Lilith will be most displeased. She really liked her fortress. After centuries, it was finally tailored to her needs. And now, all in shambles.”

Alec tries to roll over and despite all his efforts, a pained groaned escapes him as his broken bones grind against each other. Still, he manages to prop himself up and lift his blade - and in its light, he can see monstrous beasts crawling closer, led by a man with glowing eyes.

“Who are you?” Alec croaks out, his broken ribs preventing him from drawing in a deep breath of the noxious air.

There’s a chuckle and then the man steps closer. He’s tall and stunning, elegantly dressed and poised. “My name’s Asmodeus and I’m one of the Seven Princes of Hell. Welcome to Edom, Shadowhunter. Welcome to hell.”

#scribbledoodle #alec lightwood #isabelle lightwood #lightwood family feels #my fics #my shadowhunters fics #my lightwood fics

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rheanimalsachikokassielynn · 7 years ago

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Major Essay 2

Rheanne Harkness

Professor Timothy Greenup

English 112

28 November 2017

Aspects of the Self: Two Sides of the Same Coin

Over this last month, if there’s anything I’ve taken away from our rather in-depth class-wide examination of the concept of bildungsroman and how it forms the backbone of works like Mariko Tamaki’s “Skim”, it’s that the influence of external forces on transitional periods in young adult lives shapes everyone a little differently. However, the emotional upheaval such forces put us through often comes into conflict with our identities, calling who we are and what we stand for into question so much that it results in we ourselves needing to reestablish a more permanent sense of identity altogether. Sometimes though, this type of conflict can constitute a rift between how we carry ourselves in the public eye verses the private eye depending on the kinds of impressions we want to give off so that others may see us in a certain way. A lot of this is true for the character of Skim as it is for so many of us, she herself is trying to figure what kind of person she is to the point where there is a rift that was brought to my attention very clearly during group presentations between how Skim acts around others verses when she’s alone, yet her public and private selves always feed into each other. This got me thinking: if Skim’s goal as well as the audiences’ is to take stock of who she is based on how and why she carries herself at different times, then what is it we learn about Skim from her diary entries (the main manifestations of her private self) compared to her conversations with other characters (the main manifestations of her public self) and how do both sides serve to paint a picture of Skim’s true identity at its core?

It’s a bit ironic that the entire story of “Skim” is told from the main protagonist’s point of view mostly by way of her diary entries because most people who’ve never read it before would probably take this to mean that Skim is giving the audience a first-hand account of all the turmoil that’s befallen her life along with her reaction to it. (See for example, a broken arm has hindered Skim’s ability to write, her dad nearly died twice due to heart attacks, there’s a lack of any genuine support coming from her mother and supposed best friend, etc.) Now Skim does do this, but only on a very base level, summing up her thoughts and feelings with equal signs rather than full statements such as when she’s describing herself and her parents in the most dismissive black-and-white manner possible - “Mom says the heart attacks have turned my father into a cream puff...My dad says my mother is a cold cynical women who has no appreciation for a broken heart...My parents = serious issues...My dad signed my cast with an ugly happy face that I am scratching off. Me = serious issues” (Tamaki and Tamaki 10). From this and other snippets of her diary, whether paired down by shorthand or not, it’s easy to gather that Skim is feeling depressed, angry, even confused about all these sudden changes that’ve soaked up all the attention in her life and are putting a damper on who she is. The irony? Even though the whole point of having a diary in the first place is to be able to have something to bare your soul to without fear of being judged by anyone else for the way you think and feel, Skim writes about what she’s feeling but keeps vague as to the reasons why. It’s almost as if the character herself was aware that the diary would be published and read by millions in real life so here she is making a last-ditch effort to save face!

In all seriousness, Skim in a sense really is trying to save face through the act of ”self-censoring”, as put so eloquently by Margaret Lang in our first group presentation. Much of this can be cited in the comparatively detailed commentary Skim makes that is laced with more overtly irrational cynicism than usual - think of when the whole school is hung up over John Reddear’s death and Skim is treated by Mrs. Hornet and Julie Peters as a premature suicide statistic just by virtue of being associated with goth culture, to which she wrote this in response: “Truthfully, I am always a little depressed but that is because I am sixteen and everyone is stupid (ha-ha-ha). I doubt it has anything to do with being a goth” (Tamaki and Tamaki 22). Additionally, there are many times throughout the story when Skim writes a complete thought that would give everyone, including herself, some proper insight as to why she feels the way she does if it wasn’t, say, followed by a question mark or delayed with an ellipsis: “Things That Make Me Sad - Love. Things That Make Me Happy - “Love?” (Tamaki and Tamaki 67). Perhaps most striking though, are the thoughts that Skim crosses out (as Luke Langton called particular attention to in the second group presentation) and sometimes replaces with other deliberately less direct comments which at best reveal half-truths in place of whole truths: “I didn’t know what to write. Because...I’m not sure. I didn’t know what other people would think about my answer. It’s a stupid question” (Tamaki and Tamaki 61).

All the above examples to me suggest that Skim not only has trouble being honest with herself, but is also afraid of offering any outright explanations as to why she’s been so depressed, even in her diary. This is because doing so might make her appear too vulnerable on top of already being unsure of who she is as an individual. Consider Skim’s pentacle, a doodle of a star that shows up quite a few times throughout the book. We see it drawn twice on Skim’s list of things that she still needs for her altar, Skim paints a tiny star on her face (but washes it off) right before the Wiccan AA meeting, there’s even a pentacle drawn on Skim’s cast. We find out towards the end of the story through a conversation Skim has with Katie Matthews that the pentacle is meant to protect her from “everything” but “It’s mostly just symbolic” (Tamaki and Tamaki 109). I think the pentacle has held more significance to Skim than she’s actually letting on at this point. It’s shown up enough times that I can’t help but deduce it is meant to be a safeguard, a way for Skim to protect herself against obstacles she’s having a hard time overcoming or things she’s feeling uneasy about (like a casted right arm and the strange Wiccan meeting). This is especially important because up until the end of the book, anything having to do with Wicca, as the star does, is a huge part of the new identity we see Skim trying to forge for herself. It’s only after Skim talks to Katie about it and later signs her cast with a pentacle “for good luck” does the star take on a meaning for Skim that really is just symbolic and nothing more, since by then, Skim has grown confident enough in herself that she no longer needs Wicca or the star doodles to feel validated.

But while we’re on the topic of conversation, I notice a correlation between the most positive and negative interactions Skim has with other characters at the beginning of the book and the diary entries that are written about them after the fact. When Skim tries to speak her mind towards her “friend” Lisa, she is often shut down and insulted for it. In those situations, the best thing Skim can do to vent her frustration is insult Lisa back. Not surprisingly, these scenes in themselves tend to make it even more clear as to why Skim feels so dejected whenever she’s with Lisa than the diary entries do. The ramifications of such a relationship where Skim is almost never allowed to get a word in edgewise (and when she does, Lisa verbally abuses her for it) center around a lack of confidence Skim has in her ability to channel her thoughts towards other people and herself simply due to the fact that Lisa has never given Skim the option to do otherwise. However, Skim’s first meaningful conversation with Ms. Archer really puts things into perspective for the audience, as not only is she the first character in the story to let Skim speak freely without any fear of a hostile response, but she also asks why the students call the central protagonist “Skim” when her real name is “Kim”, to which the latter answers: “Because I’m not” (Tamaki and Tamaki 27). This little exchange here conveys by far the most important thing we ever learn about Skim as a person throughout the entire story - she does not think of herself as a light or superficial individual, (as two separate dictionary definitions of the term seem to allude). I dare say, that serves to make her nickname quite a contradiction to what I would claim the character of Skim is really like in spite of the confidence lapse she has to wrestle with for so long in public and private!

Yes, Skim most certainly is quite the introspective and layered character. Thus the climactic pay-off of when she is finally able to express herself, (effectively giving the GCL members a piece of her mind in defense of Katie and John Reddear without any care as to what will come of it afterwards) is made so much sweeter. Though please do not take this to mean there’s a great discrepancy between the Skim we get to know while writing diary entries and the Skim we get to know while interacting with others. Skim’s fear of appearing weak in the eyes of herself and of those around her was always present until we saw her get past that fear at the end of the story by standing her ground against unfair treatment instead of just blowing it off in the first respect, and by slowly becoming a lot more truthful and censoring less as she writes in the second respect. Neither of these public and private sides of Skim are any more in line with who she truly is by themselves because, to put it simply, you can’t fully understand one side without the other.

Works Cited

Lang, Margaret, et al. "Skim: A Social Commentary." English 112 Group Presentations, 16 November, Spokane Falls Community College, Spokane, WA. Student Presentation.

Langton, Luke, et al. “Skim.” English 112 Group Presentations, 16 November, Spokane Falls Community College, Spokane, WA. Student Presentation.

Tamaki, Mariko, and Jillian Tamaki. Skim. Groundwood Books, 2008.

#Rheanne Harkness #English 112 Final #Digital Portfolio #Major Essays

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terriblevalveartandocs · 8 years ago

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About Valve OCs and the blog

This has been on my mind for a while.

This blog never got a satisfying end in my books, and I’m sure for other readers as well. Even though closure is a myth perpetuated by mainstream media, I will make this post to try to rectify past mistakes and general truancy of this blog. I have my own suspicions that most of my readers are dead (considering all of the porn bots are now starting to follow me), so I write this post in the darkness of the night into the void that is Tumblr. Read my cry if you care.

Firstly, this blog will never update again. There are multiple factors that have led to this blog’s extinction and I think they’re important to address

Motivation

This blog took up a large chunk of my life back when it was active. Don’t get me wrong, bad art still gets me to cringe and I find myself on occasion still pining over weird ocs and art styles on Deviantart. However, maintaining it as a blog with daily updates became a chore for me along with promising critiques of ocs and such. I’ve come to discover that I can’t do what I love as “””work”””. While bad art still remains a passion for me, I don’t see myself continuing this in blog format.

OCs have changed

The OC market has changed. Base art has definitely taken a downturn in the past few years and you’re more likely to see people hand-drawing their ocs or writing them out. Thanks with the culture of memeing about bootleg fandom ocs (This is my own original character blonic, donut steels) , it seems that people are more drawn towards creating their own worlds and characters rather than shoving their mary sue into their current fan favorite content. These are good changes in terms of originality for artists and writers in my opinion.

However, a lot of the formats for OCs have changed as well. There tends to be an emphasis on their sexuality and race in OC culture now. I don’t consider that a bad thing but I’d rather not poke that hornet’s nest of gender identity and race of fictional characters. What used to be the standard straight, bi, gay has expanded into other territories that I am unfamiliar with and now we have more ocs outside of the standard white chick but with Japanese last name because the creator really likes naruto. Again, this just seems to be the trend and I think my last few revival posts kinda show them.

Valve as a games publisher

LOL when’s half life 3???

Valve has definitely moved from being a game developer to a digital distributor. Steam definitely seems to be their focus outside of Hat/Weapon Skin collecting and online gambling (and also their weird consoles/controllers???). Not that I would continue this blog if they released more content (They published another update to the TF2 comic, can’t wait for that to get updated in a year).

Along with this slump of their own original content, this has led to a slump in original characters for their franchises. There are not as many fan ocs and art isn’t being produced for their franchises (except maybe with comic updates for TF2 and nostalgia for old games).

This blog was created at the optimal time imo with L4D2 still being fresh, TF2 still having an active userbase, and Portal 2 giving some great content in terms of creative material.

Also I’m not interested in reviewing Dota 2 art and I don’t think there are enough Counterstrike ocs.

Negativity

I don’t know if this blog was a source of positive or negative energy. On one hand, I was ridiculing people’s art without much hesitation and not acknowledging how much time and effort that might have been put in by the artist. But on the other hand, it provided laughs for people during its duration and gave me a creative outlet in terms of humor, arguments, and writing. I think I did my best to avoid any harassment for these artists by removing any watermarks that might lead any rude reader to them, but I’ll never know if they suffered any bullying. Obviously I’m not going to put this on my resume as work experience but I like to think that this blog help think critically about their content, regardless of what role you played on the blog be it me, a submitter, an observer, or the subject. Maybe if some supreme being questions why I started this blog in the afterlife, I can tell them I did it for the lolz.

In the end, I think I did more harm than any general good for the world and nobody will really understand that weird pain if I try to repent for it publicly. I don’t know of any key examples of this (or really remember because I haven’t done this shit in years), but I do apologize if I ruined anyone’s ambitions for writing/drawing.

I’m glad there is a stronger hugbox mentality for artists who aren’t very good and I embrace that style of encouragement. I guess my only concern is veering too far into that and just embracing everything as perfect and awesome and never improving. Criticism has its place in society.

Perhaps the real lesson is that who the hell gives a shit about what you post on the internet. Why should you give a stranger any control over how much your art is worth? However, this also gives the argument into determining if any of your art is worth anything based on your preconceived notions on your art’s merits since you are only a stranger to me. Why should you tell me that your art is valid and equal to anything else produced when it looks like you drew it with your tablet pen stuck up your ass?

Maybe we all just need to learn to stop giving invisible voices the power to ruin our emotional states and work on our self satisfaction.

Growing up????

I wrote most of this blog like a million years ago. It was a stronger part of my identity and a part of a community in a way of similar blogs in the same style. But I don’t really relate to the content as much I used to. Valve games are still near and dear to me, but they’re more nostalgic than my current flame and muse. I feel the same happened to other blogs in the same vein as mine. Perhaps also age and the changes of time led to our own focuses in our own lives than looking at the scribbles of some stranger on the internet. While it’s still one of my internet past times, it is not my main focus in life to critique bad art (unless it starts paying serious dosh). I just don’t relate to the words and passions anymore. In a way, this is my own cringe that artists produce when they’re young on Deviantart. It’s kind of funny in a weird way.

This blog will continue to remain up but I’ll probably move into another blog of some sort (I accidentally made this my primary blog and I can’t delete it). It sort of became my main lurking blog and I guess its time that I make a less weird not ghost blog (I’m probably confusing a lot of the people that I follow with my constant hearts and comments).

I guess I wanna say thanks for all of the people who followed this blog and its contents. I probably wouldn’t have continued for very long without followers so you’re all to blame for this negative impact I’ve made on the world (jkjk). I like to think we’re connected with our mutual spirit in improving how we create things and wanting to see improvement in others. I think this blog helped me see the dumbest of things and not be afraid to say it was dumb and I hope it did for you as well. I also hope it brought you laughs in the content that was displayed or the humor I attempted to convey. It did genuinely warm my heart whenever I got a heart, reply, reblog, or messages to keep up the work. It kind of makes me sad to think that I left rather abruptly, but better blogs have died quicker and quieter. Simple fact of life really. Thank god my ego keeps me in check to constantly remind people of my existence.

To any artists out there, bad art is a fact of life. You do not come out of the womb knowing how to do two point perspective and 3d shapes. You mess up doing 3d shapes each any every time until you get it and then move on to the next thing you’re not good at. There’s a common TIL leddit post about how Michaelangelo burnt all of his old works so nobody would know how bad he was when he was starting out. I don’t know how true that is, but that’s not a great mentality to have for your art. Seeing that bridge between your former self and current self is important for seeing self growth in your skills. Plus you won’t have those juicy likes and comments on instagram when you do the art redraw and show how far you come like how can you skimp on that you dingus.

All of the great content creators right now love showing off the shitty art they did as kids because it gives them a sense of progress in their work and their accomplishments and continues to drive them in their own works. (unless you’re rebecca sugar and drew ed edd and eddy shipping porn lol). Heck, some of them even take the stuff that was once cliche characters and expanded on them in their own Original Universe Donut Steel. And thanks to their own Original Universe Donut Steel, now tens of thousands of impressionable young artists can look at it and say “that’s awesome, but it would be way better if there was my own character...”.

OCs are weirdly one of the ultimate ways of fan expression where you enjoy the content so much you wish you were part of it. Even though it’s very disjointed and out of place, it’s usually done in a place of love for the franchise or the characters. So for those of you that are doing that still, keep at it I guess.

Fan art is sorta in the same way where you enjoy something so much that you want to replicate the style/themes/characters in your own or the content’s style. While not as extreme, it’s still in the same place of love and people generally like that more than original shit anyways so continue to make it so I can buy your posters at anime conventions without supporting the original creator lol.

If you want to harass me further for my sins against budding artists, I guess I’ll link my personal blog if anyone actually asks me. I also wrote this at 3 am so it is extremely unedited and awful but it’s the most “pure” for my usual diatribe. Consider it my first OC for the blog.

Good night, good life, and farewell.

#valve #terriblevalveartandocs #wow this dead blog finally got an obiturary #that's right grandma decided to haunt this blog and repeat this blog post to those who enter #came back from the dead to remind you i'm dead #but this is on my own terms death ahahahah #there go my dreams of being tumblr famous #i love all of my ...*looks at smuged handwriting* smefty hundred followers #NOW I CAN SLEEP #this was actually part of my repentance for church that my pastor assigned me #now i can get into heaven where i belong #also the real reason i stopped updating was because i was in prison for 3 years for cyberbullying #i hurt too many bronies feelings #thankfully i'm back and i ended up joining a brony prison gang #guess what my cutie mark is #why do i still think i'm funny

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