#Ugh i should really assign each version it's own name ;-; | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sweetchup · 3 years ago

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Bi•valve

Noun

an aquatic mollusk that has a compressed body enclosed within a hinged shell, such as oysters, clams, mussels, and scallops.

AKA

The Most Common Seashell in the Ocean

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Vol. 1: Just Keep Swimming // Ch. 2

Type: Poseidon x reader

Word Count: 4,000+

Masterlist

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Sounds of horns and shouting filled the air outside as you stood on the packed bus. Cramped in from every side, it was hard for you to tell where you were going. Not as if you were paying much attention anyways.

“Okay, you left fish and pasta in the fridge… he could use the tv or read a book for entertainment while you are gone…what about…” You ramble incoherently to yourself.

Even though the storm hit Athens hard yesterday, your studio art professor was still having classes today. Forcing you to leave Triton alone at home. You shouldn’t be nervous. There was no reason to. After all, Triton is a god, he was hundreds of years old.

But…, he was still a child. No matter how old or what type of being he is. He could still possibly injure himself or get into trouble. And that single fact alone made you feel sick to your stomach.

“Is this how parents feel leaving their child alone for the first time…?” You groan to yourself, leaning your head forward so it hits the window in front of you.

“Now Approaching *Athens International School of Art*. I repeat, Now—“ The robotic voice announces over the intercom. At the familiar name of your college, you squeeze your way through the other patrons on the bus to make your way to the doors.

Sweet, sweet air, you think to yourself as soon as you exit the bus. It was starting to get way too cramped in there. So much so, you wondered if it was a safety hazard. Though it wasn’t as if you were one to talk, you left a little boy alone—

“Argh!” You scream out, slapping the cheeks of your face. You needed to stop thinking of Triton. He was going to be completely fine. But, what if…

“I’m getting too attached already…” You groan to yourself. It had only been a day. One singular Day. But you were already smitten by the blonde haired child. “It doesn’t help that he's absolutely adorable as well…”

“Who’s adorable?” A voice calls out from behind you, making you jump in surprise. Whipping around, you let out a sigh once you identify who it was.

“Bryce… how many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that…”

Bryce Kroger. He was studying abroad at Athens International School of Art for a year just like you except he was instead an architecture major. You met him by coincidence while taking art history so you didn’t know much about the guy, the only thing being the few stories he told you about his home country of Australia.

“Oi! It’s not my fault you're so skittish!” Bryce banters back with a huff.

“Whatever…”

“Eh? Wait, where you heading?” Bryce questions as he watches you walk away, “I thought you had Studio Art on Fridays?”

“I do. I’m heading to the library first though.” You yell back to the tall male who stayed put where he was standing. Not even bothering to follow you.

“You need to stop studying so much!”

“Shut up!”

“IT’S THE TRUTH!”

“SHUT UP!” You scream back with one final huff before storming off. So what if you studied so much. You just wanted to get good grades in the classes that counted. It’s how you got here in the first place. By working your ass off.

Unconsciously, you feel your hand twitch as you open the library door. So what if you spent hours studying. So what if you didn’t go out with friends that often. So what if you didn’t have a social life. So what—

You feel yourself pause, your expression turning sour. Lonely. That’s what you were. You were lonely. A miserable lonely girl.

“Miss!”

Startled out of your thoughts by the sudden call, you realize you were no longer standing at the front door but instead standing in front of one of the librarians. You must have unconsciously walked up to the front desk while you were lost in thought.

“A-Ah. Sorry, I was just looking for books on Leonar—“

You feel your voice trail off at the end as a book on the counter catches your eye. It wasn’t the gold detailing nor the leather texture. No. It was the simple words of “Greek Mythology: Tales of Zeus” printed neatly on the front.

“…Actually, Do you perhaps have any books about Poseidon?”

You just found something better to do with your time.

—.—.—.—.—

“Damn… this is extremely confusing…” You mumble to yourself as you glare at the pages of notes in front of you. Each book seemed to be a little bit different from the last. “Perhaps I should recap…”

Okay, so what makes sense to you is that Poseidon is the second eldest of three brothers and is the ruler of the seas. The things that don’t make sense are… practically everything else…

You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or scream out of frustration right now.

According to the books, Poseidon has had many consorts over the years. One of them being Triton’s mother, Amphitrite…

“My mother… can be quite mean to other women. Even to some of the female servants around the palace. She believes that they are trying to seduce my father…”

…but that doesn’t match up with what Triton mentioned last night. According to him, it sounds like Amphitrite scared away any women that would even come near Poseidon. This also leads to another flaw in the mythology books. You doubted that Poseidon would be able to have an affair with any other women with Amphitrite antics, nevertheless have 10 other children with them.

“Triton also never mentioned having any other siblings…”

Letting out a groan, which you seemed to be doing a lot today, you banged your head against the table. It seems like these mythology books weren’t going to be of any help after all. Though…. you couldn’t help but wonder why the books were so off in the first place.

Lifting yourself back up from the table, you glare down at one of the book covers. It was blue, almost silvery in a way, with a giant black silhouette of Poseidon right smack dab in the middle. Or, at least, what Poseidon might look like…

“Well, my father is extremely strong and handsome. All the sea nymphs stare at him with big heart eyes half the time. Oh! B-but, father doesn’t pay any attention to them. Father is not a cheater like uncle Zeus…”

“…Is Father…? Oh. He’s alright… He’s nowhere as bad as my mother. He’s never hit me or anything. He’s just… cold. Extremely cold. He really just ignores me half the time…”

“…I do love my father…I just wished he would at least spare me a glance…you know?…Acknowledge his own son…”

“God damn jerk!” You hiss out in anger as you push the book aside. Your blood practically boiling at even the slightest thought of Triton’s father, Poseidon. He doesn’t deserve to have such a good and nice son like Triton.

However, as much as you want to curse out Poseidon more, you realized class would be starting soon and you really had to get a move on.

“Shit. I can’t afford to be late again.”

—.—.—

“Ugh. Why did the professor have to assign me this type of painter…?!” You whined to Yuri. Class had already ended by then with the professor long gone. The only people left were students that were conversing with others or trying to get a head start on their paintings.

“Well, it didn’t help that you barged into class late for the second time this week, (y/n).” Yuri explained with a sigh as she continued to set up her palette, not even sparing you a glance.

Yuri Saito, Or rather Saito Yuri, was an abroad student from Japan. She was the closest person you knew at the college as you both were similar in many ways. Especially since you were both homebodies.

“I get that but at least I showed up in the fir—“

“(Y/n)!” A voice shouts out interrupting your talk with Yuri. You turn around to see Bella Woods, a student apart of your major, approaching you. “(Y/n). You were part of your student council back in high school right?”

“Uh, Yeah. Why?” You answered hesitantly. You weren’t sure why, perhaps instincts, but you were already having a bad feeling about this situation.

“Well I need your help on something…” Bella explains, her voice trailing off at the end as she grabs something from her bag. It’s a piece of paper, a flier to be exact.

“A…A Cultural Festival?”

Bella nods her head at your words, “Yeah. The college wanted to put something on for the public to show what our art school is all about and Mrs. Yamamoto suggested this. A-Apparently, it’s something schools and colleges do back in Japan.”

“B-But how can I help? Wouldn’t it make sense for someone like Yuri to do this? Since she’s from Japan and all.”

It was the truth. You didn’t know a single thing about japanese culture festivals.

“Hey don’t drag me into this, I’m busy.” Yuri counterbacks with a glare before returning back to her painting.

“Well… you see… The school wanted to change Mrs. Yamamoto’s idea a bit since they really didn’t know anything about Japanese Cultural festivals either. So it’s like a Cultural festival, kind of not.” Bella rambled. You could tell all this information was scrambling her brain as well. “Basically, it’s like a Greek version of a Cultural festival where each major picks a Greek god and plans an event or booth around it.”

“…Okay… So it’s just like a school festival in a way?” You questioned cautiously. This was a lot for you to take in at once.

“Yes. Precisely. We are just taking inspiration from Cultural festivals.”

“Okay. Okay…” You answer as you rub the back of your neck, “I still don’t understand why you need me though?”

“Well, I kind of… kind of saw you reading the mythology books in the library today and we need more people on the planning committee…” Oh, god. It seems like everything is coming back to bite you in the ass, “…Just. Please (y/n), We need your help!”

You let out a small sigh as you watch Bella give you a pleading look, “Fine…”

“Yay—!“

“But…“ You start cutting off Bella’s cheers, “But I’m taking care of something really important right now at home so I can’t always make meetings and things like that. I can help with planning but that’s it. Okay?”

That was correct. As much as you wanted to help Bella and your department out with this festival, Triton was your top priority right now. His care and needs were above all else right now, even your own. So if this would get in the way of that then you would drop this project instantly. Instantly.

“Of course! Oh, thank you (y/n)!” Bella cheers, her body visibly relaxing now that a stress has been taken off your shoulder, “Well, I’m not sure if you're busy right now but… the committee is currently planning two classrooms down… so if you could…”

“I’ll go…” You sighed out. Damn, what’s with you lately. Less than two days ago, people hardly approached you. Now you are as busy as a bee. A person magnetic… Well, more like god magnetic as wel—

Wait, a minute. You feel yourself tense up as a thought flies into your brain. If Gods could travel and spend time on earth, could they live here as well? Just like how Triton wants to?

Shit. What if some that live here are able to identify Triton? You could be in big troub—

“(Y/n)? Are you coming?” Bella calls, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Y-yes.”

It seemed you would have to worry about that later. Not that it mattered right now, you could always just ask Triton when you got home. And even if he didn’t know the answer you would just have to be careful bringing him out of the house. Yeah… you would just do that.

“Guys, I would like to introduce you to (y/n). She’s a fine arts major just like us and knows about mythology. I think she would make a great addition to our group.” Bella introduces you as you enter the room. As you looked around the group of only 4 other people, you realized you really didn’t know anyone.

That is until everyone started to introduce themselves. You never heard of the first three—Brian, James and Kyle—but you found the last name, Marissa Samudra, quite familiar. You wonder if she was that Marissa.

Who you were talking about was Marissa, the hottest girl in school Marissa. Well, at least that’s what all the boys in your major told you. The girl in front of you at least seemed to fit the part. With white silk like skin, light green eyes and dyed coral pink hair, she truly was a sight to see.

“Okay. So shall we get started.” James suddenly spoke up, seeming to want to get the meeting started. You nodded your head in agreement before taking a seat next to Holly. As well as across from Marissa. “Well, I think we should first decide which god we should do. Culinary, Music, Visual performing arts and architecture already have chosen Aphrodite, Hades, Ares and Zeus. (Y/n)…”

You lift your head up at the call of your name.

“…as you know the most about Mythology, who do you think we should pick?”

“Well,…” You feel yourself pause, your palms growing sweaty out of nervousness. You really didn’t know that much about Greek Gods, only the class you took last year and the books you skimmed this morning. You also didn’t expect so many of the main gods to be taken already.

“…How about…”

You needed to think of someone fast. Someone that would satisfy all parties here. Someone that would bedazzle people coming to the festival.

“…Poseidon…?”

Why… Why was that what your brain had come up with? Poseidon? The very god that you were cursing out this morning. Wishing near death upon.

“Fish man?” Brian questioned, letting out a small chuckle at his own joke, “You really want to go with Fish man as our god? Isn’t there anyone better?”

“I think Poseidon is pretty…cool.” You feel a shiver go up your spine as you compliment the man. It was official, you might actually puke. “…He’s the king of the seas. It gives us a lot to work with for his character. Especially since most Fine Arts students are good at realistic elements, we could really do well on painting or using sea life.”

“True… but—“

“I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

You are shocked as you hear Marissa cut Brian off. When you first sat down, she seemed totally uninterested in the topic at hand. Caring more about her hair and nails than anything else. But now, now, she was paying attention to every little thing. You couldn’t help but wonder why. “Oh sorry. I really like the sea. It holds a special place in my heart… you know?”

Oh, that makes sense. You totally forgot Marissa’s paintings were mostly about the ocean and sea. Never drifting off to other topics.

“N-no. That’s actually pretty cool. You know what, we should totally do Posedin… or whatever the dude’s name is. He sounds really cool.” Bryan agrees as he bashfully rubs the back of his neck. Gross, could he make it any less obvious that he was smitten by her. And not in a nice way either.

You feel yourself shiver as you watch him sneak small glances down at Marissa’s chest area. Disgusting pervert…

“Well, with that decided let’s move on…”

…Great… You could already tell this was going to be a long meeting…

—.—.—.—.—

Again, for what felt like the hundredth time today, you banged your head against the wall. This time however it was against the door of your apartment.

“Seriously… a Café…?”

Yes, a Café. That’s the brilliant idea your group came up with. An under the sea type themed café.

In hindsight it didn’t sound all that bad. You could have a couple of students paint some props and decorations. Then another couple of students who know how to cook plan out the menu. Maybe even borrow some culinary students if you were lucky.

But,… there’s that.

Outnumbered three to two, the boys of your group insisted the girls that are serving customers should wear togas. Togas. They stated it was to bring in more customers but it was pretty obvious they had other intentions behind it. Especially since they didn’t even bother waiting a couple of minutes afterwards to ask if Marissa wanted to be part of the waiting staff.

“Poor girl… I feel bad for her.” You mumble to yourself as you pull out your keys, finally unlocking the door to your apartment. You wished you could just beat all those men senseless with a baseball bat. “That’s actually not a bad idea… Could I bring a wooden club and say that it's part of the character? They seem to not know that much about—“

“Miss (y/n)!” You hear shouted as something comes barreling into you. Knocking you onto the ground right as you enter your apartment. “O-oops I meant to only say (y/n)…”

Even though you got the air literally knocked out of you, you still let out a small chuckle as you reached up to run a hand through the perpetrator’s locks. Triton’s blonde locks. “It’s okay. I only told you this morning to stop referring to me so formally. It will take time for you to get used to it.”

Suddenly, you wince at a feeling of pain as you move slightly. Triton sure was strong. You, honestly, wondered if he held back some strength when he jumped at you. If so, you wondered how strong Triton was nonetheless an adult god.

Speaking of an adult god…

“Hey Triton.” The boy lifts his head up at your call, “Do any gods live on earth?”

The boy seemed to take a moment to think, “Well kind of? Not really Greek Gods though. Most of them are too proud to live with humans.”

“Oh well that’s goo— Wait, a minute! Other gods are real as well!?”

Triton nods his head furiously, “Yeah pretty much all gods. As long as it is considered as one, it exists. There’s Nordic gods…, Indian gods…, Oh! Even Buddha. I like Buddha, even though I’ve only met him once. He introduced me to salt water taffy! It’s delicious.”

“I-I see…I’ll try to get you some then. Another time.” As much as you wanted to hide your surprise you couldn’t. Learning that Greek Gods actually existed was one situation but learning that All Gods existed was a whole nother ball game. Did that mean demons existed as well?

“Hey (y/n). Could I ask you a question?” Triton asks, suddenly seeming bashful all of a sudden.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Could I…” Triton pauses for a moment, “Could I call you…”

You leaned closer to Triton as his voice slowly got softer and softer at the end. His ears and cheeks were bright red as he waited for you to answer. However, you couldn’t answer him as you didn’t hear the last part of what he said.

“I apologize. Could you repeat what you said, Triton? I couldn’t hear the end of it.” You felt bad for asking him to repeat it as his face only seemed to get even more red when you asked.

“I-I… Could I call you… Mom?”

It was silent as his question, or rather request, fell upon your ears. You thought about it for a moment. Especially whether it was morally right for you to have him call you ‘mom’. Even if his true mother was a terrible person, she was still his mother.

Though, then again, She really didn’t act like his mother. Especially in all her hundreds of years of existence of having him. At least from what you’ve heard from Triton. She’s had plenty of chances to show her love for him and she never did.

“Of…Of course you can.”

You feel yourself smile as Triton’s face lit up. And you knew, Deep down inside, that you did the right thing. You would show this boy the love he deserved.

“Hey (Y— Mom.” You giggle at how Triton seemed to practically beam with happiness once the title left his lips.

“Yes, Triton?”

“Could we have dinner right now?”

You feel yourself jump up a little in surprise. Since you stayed later than what you usually would, due to the meeting, you didn’t have anything prepared ahead of time for dinner.

“Ah, yes. Do you think you could wait in the living room while I prepare it?”

“Of course!” Triton answers as he scrambles up off of you. As you make your way to the kitchen—which was technically in the same room as the living room—to start dinner, you find yourself drifting off into your thoughts.

You realized you really hadn’t thought this through. Taking care of Triton and all. Your apartment was small, he didn’t have his own room, he seemed to eat a lot more than a human boy his physical age and so much more.

You wouldn’t be able to buy a bigger apartment right now. Going through college and all. But you could take more shifts at work. After all, it was literally down the street. You were also good friends with the owner of the toy shop next door. You bet he would allow Triton to play with a couple of toys while you worked.

As you continue to list things you would need to take care of Triton especially if it was long term, Triton was watching cartoons on the couch.

“…Wonder cats will be right back!…”

As the show goes to commercial break, Triton feels himself let out a sigh. Television sure was awesome and all, much better than the plays and coliseum matches used to entertain gods, but he despised ads more than anything.

“Who in the world created such a malicious thing…”

Triton’s voice trails off at the end as the ad changes to another. As he stares at the screen, he feels a shiver shoot down his spine. As quickly as he could, Triton changes the channel to another before shakily dropping the television remote. A cold sheen of sweat breaks out all over his skin as he collapses back onto the couch.

To anyone else, the commercial before looked like any normal hair dye commercial seen on Tv. But not to Triton. Especially when he saw something oh so familiar.

“T-that hair color…” Triton feels himself shiver at the thought, “L-looked too much like Aunties. Mom’s…No…

…Amphitrite’s Sister.”

Author Note: Ahhh this chapter contained so much but I knew I couldn’t split it up. Especially if I was doing posting Tuesdays and Thursdays. I was worried that the time frame in between would mess my readers up. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this Chapter. I know there wasn’t a lot of Triton moments but I wanted to get the ball rolling on the plot so that things and certain characters (*cough* Poseidon *cough*) will appear soon. Well that’s it for now, see you next time :)))

Taglist: @angeli-fucking-cat @marixxhq

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #snv poseidon x reader #snv poseidon #snv #bivalve

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deniigi · 3 years ago

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Please take this section from a piece about Baby Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon bonding post Bandomeer.

I’m sure that this isn’t how their master-apprentice relationship was formed but I refuse to read so this is it for me 🙃🙂

Title: platelets

Summary: After the smoke clears on Bandomeer, the Agricorps gathers 12yo Obi-Wan into their ranks and prepares to train him to become one of their own. Qui-Gon thinks they should wait a damn minute here. He’s had a change of heart.

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Obi-Wan was no longer in the med bay. It took Qui-Gon two hours to find him and two years off his life trying to look casual under the irritated gaze of so many suspicious Agricorps members.

The foreman (forewoman) was the first to crack under Qui-Gon’s very charming smile—and she didn’t so much as crack as tell him that his attempts to be subtle disgusted her to the core.

Obi-Wan had been given over to a young lab manager. A friendly man in need of his first supervisee. He was soft at heart and, according to the foreman, very good with kids.

Qui-Gon understood implicitly and rapidly that this was his new competitor.

He asked the foreman what the knights had done to incur the corps’ ire and she told him to search his fucking feelings.

She closed the door behind him, effectively locking him into one of the Agricorps terrarium-lab bubbles.

Qui didn’t like to snoop. He loved to snoop.

Nothing was more satisfying then having a poke through the lines upon lines of glasses and test pockets that covered the tables. He had a sniff around the experimental cuttings taking root in their glasses and then took cover when he heard a voice break out into a laugh.

He peered over the edge of the counter and spotted the familiar green smock-tunic of the corps. Its owner had tan skin and narrow eyes and his back stooped into an arc. Qui-Gon craned his neck and found that the arc came over the tuft-y red hair of his future apprentice (because there was no real question here, regardless of the corps’ agitation; the knights would always get first choice over the initiates).

The lab manager, however, gave no sign of trepidation. He held in front of Obi-Wan a handful of seeds that sprouted and curled under his smile. Obi-Wan watched them with wide eyes. The manager turned his gentle face down towards Obi-Wan and nudged his hands until Obi-Wan was holding the mass as it grew.

“Look, you’re a natural,” the man said.

Obi-Wan sucked in a lip and focused hard. One of the plants’ first adult leaves began to unfurl.

“Well done. Fantastic,” the manager said. “Look at you already. Great job and for that, a reward.”

“A reward?” Obi-Wan asked, handing the tangle of roots off as the manager held out his hands for them.

“A reward,” the manager agreed, plucking one of the fat stems from the bunch and holding it out to Obi-Wan, “A snack.”

Damn. This guy was good.

The foreman was smug as a dungbeetle in shit when Qui-Gon skulked out of the lab. She asked him how his proposal had gone. He scowled at her and made off back to his quarters.

Normally, he would call someone to lament the traitorous actions of these supposed-allies, but no one was going to be sympathetic right now—not even Tahl. She was going to say what everyone else was going to say which was “Man, you had how many chances to get this right?”

He smashed his face into the pillow of his bunk, then flung it off and flattened his cheek against the mattress.

There had to be some way to turn these tides back in his favor. He wasn’t losing to the Agricorps. Master Dooku would have a heart attack. Qui’s failure in this—more than Xanatos—would kill him and then he’d have to live with that guilt for the rest of his life.

UGH.

Alright, Jinn. Think.

He had a brilliant plan. It involved a lightsaber. Obi-Wan loved lightsabers. Qui-Gon had witnessed him loving them many a time.

He scrounged up some tools and squeaked past the Agricorps security for a quick bounce off to acquire a crystal. A blue one. Obi-Wan looked like a blue saber sort of kid. It took a while to find one because everyone, everywhere, was conspiring against Qui-Gon on this. Even the Force seemed to be telling him that he was too late.

But for once, he didn’t care. There were only so many times you could fuck up before you started fucking up at least in the right direction.

He got the crystal. He brought it back to the corps headquarters and went on the hunt yet again for his (his damnit) future apprentice.

This time, Obi-Wan was in the dormitories. Qui-Gon almost gasped in horror to find him outfitted in an over-large green smock-tunic. He flapped the too-long sleeves with a goofy smile while his lab manager reached around him and tightened the belt at his waist as far as it would go.

“You’re so scrawny,” the lab manager told him. “We’ll fix that.”

Obi-Wan beamed up at him and held up his sleeve-covered hands.

“I like green,” he said.

A small piece of Qui-Gon screamed internally.

“I think you’re more of a blue, actually,” the lab manager said. “But this is what we’ve got for now. When you get bigger, we can see if there’s a blue that fits you.”

“There are so many colors,” Obi-Wan said as the manager trapped his arm and started rolling up one of the sleeves. He tried to do the same with the other on his own, which just made the manager’s job harder.

“There are,” the manager said.

“Do you get to pick?”

“You sure do.”

“How do you pick?”

The manager patted Obi-Wan’s head and turned around to hunt down something else from the spare clothing supply.

“It comes to you,” he said, muffled.

There was a long silence. Qui-Gon had just decided to step out of hiding, when Obi-Wan, looking at the rolled edges of his sleeves said,

“I think I want to leave.”

Qui-Gon’s heart stopped. The manager’s rummaging did, too. He pulled himself carefully out of the cupboard.

“Leave?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Obi-Wan said to his sleeves. “I think I want to leave.”

No.

“You’re a little young to leave, aren’t you?” the manager said awkwardly.

“Maybe,” Obi-Wan said. “But I’ll figure it out. If I can survive those people in the mines, then I can figure it out, can’t I? And then I can pick my colors out there. You get to pick, right? Maybe I’ll do blue after all.”

Fuck. No. Qui-Gon was gonna—

“Hey, why don’t we do this?” the manager said, setting aside a set of gaiters to kneel down in front of Obi-Wan. “Let’s give us a trial run, huh? Two months, max. I know we didn’t make the best first impression, but give us two months—eight weeks—and after that, if you don’t like it, we’ll make sure you’ve got somewhere to go when you’re ready to leave. Does that sound okay?”

Qui-Gon held his breath. Obi-Wan studied the knuckles of the hands holding his. He rubbed his split lips together.

“Eight weeks?” he asked.

“That’s all, no more and if you really, really can’t stand it, then even less,” the manager said.

“And you’ll help me? Even if I say I don’t want to stay?”

“Even if you don’t want to stay.”

Maybe Qui was operating on another, less child-friendly level here, but why in kark’s name you’d even give the boy the illusion of choice was beyond him. The answer was, truly, that the second Obi-Wan set foot away from the jedi, he’d be signing his own death sentence.

Xanatos wouldn’t care if he wasn’t Qui-Gon’s true apprentice. He wouldn’t ask those kinds of questions. He’d just seize the opportunity the moment Obi-Wan no longer had someone standing behind him, and when he was through, he’d bring the body to the Temple and lay it out cold and open-eyed on the front steps.

There were no other options for the child now. Qui-Gon was being kind with this process of trust-building. In reality, if he really needed to, he could contact Yoda and acquiesce to his previous wisdom and arguments for Qui-Gon to take the kid on. Yoda would then change the boy’s assignment and orders; he would return to the temple and thereafter again go through the selection process. But this time, Qui-Gon would select him without hesitation.

That wasn’t how Qui-Gon wanted to do this, but if the boy thought that he was going to leave, to step out into the cold of space, then to spare him a cruel, meaningless death, Qui-Gon would.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said quietly to the manager.

“Anytime, hon,” the manager said. “Who knows, anyways. You might even like it here.”

The trouble with the damn Agricorps was that they were phenomenal talkers. They talked to people about their problems and all these insecurities and they gave them food and drinks and told jokes and laughed and hefted their littlest supervisees up onto their shoulders and all that served to make their members loyal to each other to a fault.

In short, Obi-Wan’s lab manager was winning this battle more every day.

This was not helped at all by the fact that Qui-Gon had discovered through a surprise meeting that Obi-Wan was afraid of him.

They’d bumped into each other in the hallway as Obi-Wan came from the mess hall and Qui-Gon went to drop off some documents, and the kid scrambled away from him and flattened himself against the corridor’s wall.

Some serious meditation (and agitating Mace, great tower of sleep-deprived wisdom) had brought Qui-Gon to the conclusion that yeah, a month in forced labor, being banished to a mine, food deprivation, physical assault, and so on really did a number on a twelve-year-old’s trust in people and their associates.

Further, Mace pointed out that Qui-Gon was approximately ‘half a mile tall and covered in overgrowth.’

He did not appear to be a soothing presence to children. Mace said that if he’d deigned to join him and the other masters in chatting and cuddling the younglings in the crèche, this wouldn’t have been a problem, but alas, Qui, you stuck-up nerfherder. You reap what you sow.

Mace’s hind and foresight was, as per usual, invaluable.

Qui-Gon decided that he was going to be the nice version of himself. He was going to smile at Obi-Wan. That would do it.

It didn’t do it.

The foreman came to Qui-Gon’s quarters to gleefully tell him not to approach the corps’ young supervisees unprompted. He was giving the children hives.

He explained to her outright that he intended to take Obi-Wan on as his apprentice.

She told him good luck. Obi-Wan, she claimed, was already settling in with the others. He was making friends. And Qui-Gon wasn’t so cruel as to separate such a traumatized boy from such comfort, now was he?

But there, she was mistaken.

He definitely was that cruel.

The foreman told him to die miserable and slammed his door.

It took another two tries, but eventually, he managed to find Obi-Wan tucked away on one of his breaks from his training in the lab. He appeared to be at a loss for what to do with himself. He’d settled against a window and had splayed both hands on it as he stared out into the cracked soil of Bandomeer.

Qui-Gon watched him for a little while and then cleared his throat.

Obi-Wan jumped. His eyes came up for the briefest second and then his head went down.

“Master,” he greeted.

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon replied. “You seem bored.”

Guilt colored the boy’s cheeks in a flush.

“I’m not bored, Master,” he said, fidgeting with his rolled sleeves.

“May I sit?” Qui-Gon asked, gesturing next to where Obi-Wan knelt. He nodded and arranged himself in a more dignified posture. Qui-Gon let him; he sat down next to him, grumbling and creaking and popping.

His bones weren’t what they used to be.

Once he was finally more or less comfortable, he turned to notice Obi-Wan staring at him with eyes like a cat’s.

“What? You never seen an old man sit?” he asked.

“What happened to your hair?” Obi-Wan asked.

Oh.

“It’s in a bun,” Qui-Gon explained, reaching up to release the mane. It tumbled down over his shoulders and cheered for fresh air.

Obi-Wan’s gaze became even more cat-like. Qui-Gon fought off a smirk.

“You want to touch it?” he asked.

The kid looked away abruptly.

“It’s okay. You can touch it,” Qui told him. “It looks better than it feels, I must say. Needs a trim—look at these ends, little one. I ought to be arrested for crimes against decency.”

Aha. Gotcha. Look at that wobble in those lips. Trying not to smile. They’d see how long that worked, now wouldn’t they?

He badgered Obi-Wan until he finally broke and reached up to brush his fingers against the hair Qui-Gon put within his reach. His attention snapped into place.

“It’s soft,” he said, amazed.

His fingers started combing without permission. Qui-Gon let it happen.

“Very useful for cold climates—have you ever felt a snow-yak, Obi-Wan?” he asked.

The boy shook his head. Of course, he hadn’t.

“Do you know what they look like?”

Another shake.

“Well, perhaps one day, you will see them,” Qui-Gon said indulgently. “When I was a boy, my master told me not to try to pet them—he told me at every step of the way, he knew me well. But you know what I did?”

There was that smile now.

“You pet them?” Obi-Wan asked.

“I sure did,” Qui-Gon told him. “And you know that they did?”

“Kicked you?”

“Me? No. I was too small a target. They charged my master—Master Dooku; you may have heard of him.”

Obi-Wan shoved his giggles into his palms.

“I want to pet one,” he said.

“Yes, you do look like the type,” Qui-Gon said. “Tell me, Obi-Wan, what are your feelings on pathetic lifeforms?”

“What’s that?”

“You tell me. What’s a pathetic lifeform to you?”

Obi-Wan settled in and thought about it as he gazed out the window’s thick glass.

“Me,” he decided.

Bless him.

“You?” Qui-Gon said incredulously. “No, no. You saved a jedi master. I said ‘pathetic.’”

“Me,” Obi-Wan insisted again.

Qui-Gon held a finger out between them.

“If you are a pathetic life form, then I am in grave danger,” he said.

The giggle this time wasn’t hidden. It make Qui-Gon’s own grin grow.

“I was thinking a lothcat,” he admitted. “Or a dragon—love a dragon. Of course, the yak—perhaps not pathetic to my master, but to others yes. They’re not smart, Obi-Wan, poor things.”

“You like animals,” Obi-Wan said.

Qui-Gon weighed this statement with his head.

“’Animals’ isn’t quite broad enough, but yes, they fall into the category,” he said. “I’m also a big fan of rescuing the plants that no one can keep alive.”

Obi-Wan brought up his knees and wrapped his arms around them. He settled a soft cheek onto the top of the right one.

“That’s what I’ll be doing here,” he said.

“Indeed,” Qui-Gon said.

There was a long pause. The boy sniffed softly.

“You will be happy here,” Qui-Gon told him gently. “They will take care of you.”

Another sniff. An eye scrubbed with a too-long sleeve.

“I’m sorry I’m not good enough,” Obi-Wan whispered.

Well, this was a conversation Qui-Gon hadn’t wanted to walk into. There were, from his vantage point, a few ways out of it, but at the end of each of those paths was a set of brown eyes framed by intense, wispy green brows.

“You are good enough,” Qui-Gon said. “I am just a foolish master. You deserve someone better than me, Obi-Wan.”

“There is no one else,” Obi-Wan said.

“There will be,” Qui-Gon said.

“No, there won’t. I’m out of time. All that’s left for me is...this,” Obi-Wan said, gesturing to the landscape beyond the window.

Qui-Gon studied it; the cracks in the soil, the piles of broken stones.

“It is a little bleak,” he admitted.

“What is it like for non-jedi people?” Obi-Wan asked. “Do they go to school? How do they find somewhere to sleep?”

“You will not be a non-jedi person,” Qui-Gon said.

There was a long pause.

“What?”

Qui-Gon sucked in a breath and let his shoulders fall.

“Unless you really want to be one,” he added. “Apologies, I spoke without thinking.”

Those blue eyes were the same color as the crystal in Qui-Gon’s pocket. He put his hand inside of it and pulled the carefully wrapped parcel out so that Obi-Wan could see it. He rolled it slowly until only the crystal sat in his palm.

“There is greatness in you, Obi-Wan,” he said. “And I am not a good enough Master, but you are more than a deserving padawan.”

The eyes flicked from the crystal to Qui-Gon’s face once, then twice.

“Do you mean it?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Are you okay with having a silly master?” Qui-Gon asked. “I will not sugar-coat it—one of my students has already fallen. I am the type of person who Master Windu has been dreaming of the unfortunate demise for since we were children.”

“Why?” Obi-Wan asked with eyes only for the crystal.

“Excellent question. I am told that my brain is fundamentally ill-suited for human interaction,” Qui-Gon said with a smile.

Obi-Wan huffed.

“Does Master Windu really dislike you so much?” he asked.

“He speaks to me in such ways only out of love. My other friends say that I am dedicated intensely to the flight of fancy.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Obi-Wan said.

“You know, funny thing,” Qui-Gon told him, reaching over to take his hand and press the crystal into it, “Neither do I.”

#Obi-Wan Kenobi #qui-gon jinn #I think Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon should be the kind of apprentice and master who deserve each other #and by that I mean that they both do shit that make the other's teeth grind but they bear it with a smile #fic #ficlet

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sachigram · 3 years ago

Text

“With Teeth” Chapter 5

((click here to read on ao3!!))

Izaya is frowning down at his computer, his hands hovering above the keys of his keyboard, not moving. Next to him, Namie is typing away, a bemused little smirk on her face. She's enjoying this, clearly, and she's itching to say something biting.

“You're handling this better than I thought you would,” she says, her tone forcibly bored. Izaya blinks at her, lifting his hand to motion for her to continue. “Your little monster friend has a girlfriend now. He'll have less time for you, right? I assumed you'd be setting fires across the city by now.”

“You know what they say about assuming,” Izaya says breezily. “If anything, she's distracting him enough to leave me be.”

The chatroom is full of people chattering away about Shizuo and Vorona, who are spending a lot of time together, holding hands, exchanging glances, sharing beverages. It's sickening. Izaya feels vaguely nauseous just reading about it, but he thinks that's probably due to his insane schedule at the moment, and his lack of sleep. He keeps meaning to take a healing potion, but he forgets every time.

“Distracting. Right.” Namie types another response, fanning the flames of all the rumors circulating about Ikebukuro's hottest couple. Her smirk drops, and Izaya can't resist the temptation to dip into her mind, just a little, to see why she isn't enjoying this as much as she thought she would.

She's thinking of Seiji, of course, but also of Mika, and of Celty's head, and all the times she's been overlooked in favor of someone else. She thinks Shizuo dating Vorona is distasteful, because she's set on the idea that Shizuo must be fucking Izaya, and that's why he comes by so often. Izaya withholds a snort at that, and he graciously doesn't comment on the fact that Namie could probably have anyone she wanted, if she wasn't so obsessed with her own brother.

“Who cares, anyway?” Namie asks, closing her laptop. “The two of them together probably have conversations as interesting as watching paint dry. It's not worth even talking about anymore.”

“I couldn't agree more,” Izaya says, pushing away from his desk. He tilts his head at her. “Let's order out for dinner. My treat.”

“In that case, I'm craving something expensive.”

“Of course you are.”

***

Izaya is watching the sunset from a small window when he realizes he must have fallen asleep. He isn't at home anymore, and this is beginning to feel like the kind of dream he's been dreading to have lately, one where he knows Shizuo will show up at some point.

“Who are you?” A child's voice asks from behind him. Izaya turns, looking down at Shizuo, who is in a hospital bed, his arms wrapped, a brace around his neck. He's frowning up at Izaya, who sighs loudly before plopping into the vacant chair next to the bed.

“Oh, why does it even matter? You won't call me by my name anyway.” Izaya pulls his knees up to his chest and studies Shizuo closely. “You're here alone?”

“My family just left.” Shizuo looks up at the ceiling, seeming to decide that Izaya isn't a threat to him. “They used to stay with me a lot, but this happens all the time now, so they can't stick around as much.”

“I see.”

“I'll only be here one night anyway.”

“So who was it this time? Was it another fight?” Izaya asks.

“It's not like I wanted to fight.” Shizuo's eyebrow twitches. “I threw a swingset.”

“A swingset?”

“Yeah, but apparently it was bolted into the ground or something. Really fucked me up.”

Izaya can't help it. He laughs hard, curling into himself as he does so.

“Hey, fuck you, it isn't funny!” Shizuo snaps, but he seems to be trying not to laugh himself. “Well, maybe it was a little. The look on their faces was pretty funny.”

“Did you at least manage to hit them?” Izaya asks, still giggling at the mental image.

“No. Turns out all the time I spent lifting it gave them some time to escape.”

Izaya laughs harder. When was the last time he found something this genuinely funny? Lately all he does is work until he passes out, and he deserves it, he knows. Still, as he feels tears stinging the corner of his eyes, he thinks he feels good now, here with this kid version of Ikebukuro's monster. There doesn't seem to be anything else to do but talk to him, and their dreams keep connecting them no matter what Izaya does. He's tired of fighting it.

Shizuo is gazing at him with poorly concealed awe and wonder.

Pretty.

Izaya snorts at Shizuo's thought. What's so pretty about this scene right now? The sunset outside? The various machines hooked to Shizuo, beeping idly in the background? Shizuo keeps looking at him, and Izaya realizes, feels his face grow hot.

“Who are you?” Shizuo asks again.

“Your worst enemy.”

“Really? You don't seem all that bad.” Shizuo shifts a bit, winces. “You're not scared of me, are you?”

“Not now, not ever.”

Shizuo nods, and his lip wobbles. “People tell me all the time they aren't scared of me, but I know they are, deep down. How could they not be? They'd have to be crazy. But...” Shizuo chokes up, laughs a little. “I can tell you mean it. And if that makes you crazy, I think that's okay, because it feels good to not be feared, for once.”

Izaya lowers his legs, leaning closer to the bed. He idly touches the flimsy fabric of the blanket draped over Shizuo, who is watching him curiously. Izaya looks away.

“Sometimes you're so pathetically simple it makes me want to vomit. Sometimes it feels like a chore, hating you. Did you know that?” Izaya asks softly, and there's a long pause after his words, no sounds aside from their breathing. Even the machines have somehow gone quiet.

“So then why do you?” Shizuo asks at last.

“Isn't it funny that it's been so long of us hating each other that I forgot what caused it in the first place? I think you did, too.” Izaya crosses his arms over the bed, puts his head down. “People like us will always be at each other's throats. It's just the way it is.”

“You sound like a grownup,” Shizuo says, glaring now. “They always say that, when they don't know the answer to something. 'It's just the way it is.' If you don't know, then why does it matter in the first place?”

“Believe it or not, I am a grownup. I'm only a kid right now because you're one, too. We're always the same age in these dreams, even if only one of us remembers the future at a time.” Izaya lifts his head enough to grin at Shizuo, who blushes and immediately turns away. He seems to be trying to gather the courage to say something, but there's suddenly a knock at the door, and Izaya turns towards it. “Expecting someone else?”

“Huh?”

“There's knocking.”

“I don't hear anything.”

Izaya stands. “Oh. This may be in real life. I think I'm waking up.”

“Waking up? Does that mean leaving?” Shizuo's eyes look panicked. “When will you be back?”

“I never know. Why do you keep wanting to see me so badly? You're the one pulling me back here, you have to be.” The room starts to grow fuzzy as the dreamscape begins to fall apart around them.

“You're not scared of me. You laughed at me instead of running— Fuck!” Shizuo seems to be trying to get up to grab Izaya, but he can't with his arms bandaged. “Tell me your name so I can find you again!”

“You'll just call me a flea anyway, won't you? So it doesn't matter.”

***

Izaya opens his eyes to discover he passed out at his desk at some point. He sits up and frowns at the container of pasta next to him. He remembers ordering dinner for himself and Namie, and then...

“Ugh. Of course she just left,” Izaya mutters to himself. Namie is an opportunist if nothing else. She isn't the type to stick around and see what happens next, unlike Izaya. Another knock sounds at the door. “Who is it?” Izaya calls, feeling sluggish. He checks his phone to find he's been asleep for about two hours.

“Me!” Shinra's voice replies, muffled from the door. “Let me in, would you? I've been knocking forever!”

Grumbling, Izaya makes his way across the room, opening it for Shinra, who waltzes inside like he owns the place.

“Hi! I'm working late tonight, and I didn't have time to eat dinner before I left, so I figured while I was in Shinjuku I could come see what you had—“ Shinra stops talking and tilts his head to the side, observing Izaya. “You look awful. What have you been up to?”

“Also working,” Izaya says. He reaches up to wipe crusted drool from the corner of his mouth. “So you came to raid my fridge?”

“Ah, yes!” Shinra turns and continues his march to the kitchen. “I just got done with an emergency call, and next I'll be going to visit another patient. I didn't want fast food, so here I am! Did Yagiri-san make anything?”

“Should be leftovers somewhere around here.” Izaya looks back at his own pasta, feels his stomach rumble. He can't remember the last time he really ate or slept fully.

“Why don't we eat something together?” Shinra asks. “You look ready to fall over.”

Izaya ends up tossing the pasta. It was congealed together, and not very good in the first place. Namie picked the place to order from, but he'll definitely complain enough about it later to where they don't order from there again. Shinra actually goes through the trouble of throwing together some fried rice, because Izaya doesn't have the ingredients for much else. He'll have to send Namie for groceries.

“So what are you working on so religiously, anyway?” Shinra asks as they sit down. “I haven't seen you this absorbed in work for a while.”

“It's not just one assignment, but multiple. All of them are due around the same time.” Izaya eats a bite of rice and shrugs. “It's just poor timing.”

“More than that though, right? I heard Shiki-san was pissed at you for multiple reasons. Sounds like he's keeping you overloaded on purpose.” Shinra smirks at him. “You can never leave well-enough alone, Izaya-kun.”

“'Well-enough',” Izaya scoffs. “If he had his way, I'd be locked in a cage, of use only to him and his little cronies.”

“That's what you signed up for. You'll get yourself killed if you keep meddling. I mean, come on, Akane-chan? What did you think would happen by sending her off on her own like that?”

“Who says I was behind any of that? Akane-chan has a smartphone. Kids like her are always going to be involved in things, because they want better than they're given.”

“I don't believe you, and I know Shiki-san doesn't, either. It's clear he's punishing you, but...” Shinra leans closer, lowers his voice like he thinks Shiki is in the next room. “To be honest, I thought you'd have it way worse than this. You ordered Shizuo-kun's attack too, didn't you? I thought Shiki-san would hang you upside-down.”

“Again, Shinra, you're reaching way too far. I never said I was responsible for Shizu-chan either.”

Shinra pouts, and then sits back in his chair, shoveling down more rice. “Fine. Don't tell me. Just take better care of yourself, at any rate. It's not like you can't cure the effects of fatigue with your power. You're choosing to suffer, right? But then again, you've always been like that.”

“Don't you have another appointment soon?” Izaya asks, annoyed by Shinra and his big mouth. He's often wondered if friendship is supposed to be this exhausting, but it isn't like he has anything else to compare it to. Shinra was always the only one crazy enough to stick around.

“I'm only saying. You should accept your punishments and actually learn something from them every now and then. It seems like you just bounce back, more determined to make a nuisance of yourself than before.”

“If I don't make a nuisance of myself, I'll die from boredom,” Izaya lilts. “It's really that simple.”

“More like you're worried about being forgotten.”

Izaya resists the urge to throw something at Shinra, who is wearing a strange expression, something akin to actual concern.

“You've improved on your acting ability,” Izaya says, pushing away from the table. “Don't act friendly towards me now. It doesn't suit you.”

“I am your friend,” Shinra insists. “I'm the only one you've got, so maybe you should listen to me once in a while.”

“It always goes back to Celty anyway. What, are you worried I'm going to use her for something too dangerous?”

“Celty agrees with me that it's unusual for you to allow Shizuo-kun to be in your space as you have. Are you actually feeling guilty?”

“Are you?” Izaya stands and grabs a bottle of red wine from his counter before he pads over to his desk. “I don't have the time for this, Shinra. See yourself out when you're ready to go.”

Shinra sighs loudly, finishes his dinner, and picks up his briefcase. He walks towards the door.

“Take care of yourself, Izaya-kun. If you even know how to.”

Izaya uses his magic to slam the door shut behind Shinra, and then he drinks until he passes out.

***

He wakes hours later, in bed somehow.

Groaning, he sits up, trying to remember the night before. His mouth feels like cotton, and his head feels like it's trying to split itself open. He thinks he may throw up at some point in the very near future.

“Feeling better?” Tsukumoya asks from beside him. The shades are drawn closed, and the room is still dark despite the sun being out. Izaya glares at the vampire in his space.

“Why are you here?” he croaks.

“You don't remember? You invited me. We fucked.” Tsukumoya has his laptop, and is typing ridiculously fast even as he speaks. “It was quite the evening.”

“I'm serious. You just keep popping up. It's annoying.”

“Mm. I had a feeling you were being your usual destructive self. There's water for you on your nightstand.”

Izaya reaches next to him, grabs the glass before chugging it. His stomach immediately churns dangerously in protest.

“Why not take a healing potion? I know you have plenty of them,” Tsukumoya says, still not looking at him.

“Don't need it.”

“Right, you don't. The great Orihara Izaya doesn't need anything or anyone, how could I forget?” Tsukumoya finally glances over at him. “You might need to reconsider. Tonight's the night of the full moon. You'll need to be alert when your puppy visits.”

“Fuck, is it? I forgot all about it.” Izaya groans and flops back into the bed, rolling away from the annoying vampire in his space. “You weren't supposed to come until tomorrow.”

“Stop complaining so much. Do you need more water?”

Grumbling, Izaya tries to piece together the night before. He drank too much, he remembers that. Shinra was being annoying. He definitely fell asleep at his desk, meaning Tsukumoya carried him to bed.

“We didn't really fuck, did we?” Izaya asks.

“No. Did you want to?” Tsukumoya's voice is annoyingly smug. “I wouldn't be opposed.”

Izaya snorts and closes his eyes, wills the room to stop spinning. “Don't flatter yourself. You're not my type.”

“I'm not? Here I thought you had a thing for monsters.”

Izaya considers throwing Tsukumoya across the room, but that would be rising to the stupid teasing, and it would require more effort than he currently wants to exert. He stays where he is, listening to the sound of Tsukumoya's fingers on the keys.

“You're being especially pitiful lately, Izaya,” Tsukumoya says after a while. “So you've lost control of your little game, so what? Maybe you should think of what to do next instead of working to the point of exhaustion. You know I hate it when you're predictable.”

“Why does it matter what I do? I'm trapped.”

Tsukumoya sighs. “Yes, you are. And what are you going to do about it?”

“Right now, I'm going to be miserably hungover. Next, who knows? It'll surprise us both.”

“If only I found you sooner.” Tsukumoya goes back to typing. “The things you could've done. Humans are always finding ways to control what they don't understand or fear. But now, you can only help yourself. If you believe you're going to be trapped forever, they've already won.”

“I know that.” Izaya thinks of the work assignments that aren't ever going to stop, and he thinks of Akane, of Shizuo. He knows he went too far, but he has to go even further still.

Tsukumoya seems like he wants to say more, but he pauses, and the typing stops once more.

“You really might want to take that potion now,” he says. “One of your executives is on his way here.”

***

Izaya does not take the potion, and when he answers his door, it's with a slightly green complexion. Akabayashi takes one look at him, and promptly bursts into laughter.

“Oh, wow. And I thought I drank too much. You look awful, brat.” Akabayashi invites himself inside, stepping around Izaya. “I'm doing a wellness check on behalf of the boss. You understand, right?”

“Seems like I have more people in my life than I thought,” Izaya says, closing the door before moving to his couch. “This is my third wellness check.”

“Hard to believe a roach like you has friends, but then again, this city has an infestation. You missed a deadline today.”

“I got a little carried away last night. I've been in bed all day.”

“But you answered the door fully dressed, like you've been up and about,” Akabayashi presses.

“I sensed you coming,” Izaya lies.

Akabayashi hums in thought, and he grins menacingly. “Ya know, I ran into Heiwajima the other day at Sunshine. He seemed really interested in who bit him and why.”

“You should tell him,” Izaya says. “If anything, it would get him off my back for a while.”

“Oh, don't act innocent. We all know who made the phone call that started everything.”

“Clearly what I want doesn't matter. You've made that abundantly clear.”

Akabayashi walks closer to the couch, and he leans closer to Izaya. “Watch yourself, kid. Just because you haven't been caught in the act yet doesn't mean we don't know you're guilty. That magic of yours will only get you so far with us.”

“If your power spans so far, you shouldn't be worried about what I did or didn't do. If you really knew I was guilty, you'd have killed me by now,” Izaya says.

“Assuming monsters like you actually have enough humanity left to die.”

“Why don't we both find out?”

They glare at each other, and Izaya can sense from Akabayashi that the executive would like nothing more than to tear him limb from limb, but he won't. It would be against Shiki's wishes, and as much as Akabayashi hates it, he has to follow orders, or he'll be next on the chopping block. He takes another step towards the couch, but before he can do or say anything, the door slams open with such force that it bangs against the wall and cracks it.

“Hello, Shizu-chan,” Izaya calls without breaking eye-contact with Akabayashi. “Entertain yourself for a moment, will you?”

“What the fuck is this?” Shizuo asks. He growls when he notices Akabayashi. “Oi! I still have questions for you, asshole!”

“I'm sure you do,” Akabayashi says, standing up straight again. He grins at Shizuo. “I can't answer 'em for you, though. Sorry about that.”

“I could always beat it out of you,” Shizuo says, cracking his knuckles. “I'm even stronger than I used to be, since you bastards made me into a monster.”

“You wouldn't get far. I'd relax, if I were you.” Akabayashi turns back to Izaya. “Get to work, brat. Shiki's only so forgiving.” With that, he turns on his heel, and goes towards the door. Shizuo makes to stop him, but Izaya lifts his hand and summons Shizuo backwards, towards the couch.

“What the fuck!” Shizuo shouts, fighting it. “Let me go!”

“Don't make me exert myself, Shizu-chan. I'm having a rough day,” Izaya says. Shizuo turns and glowers at him, but his features soften.

“What's wrong with you? Are you sick?”

“Yes.” The door opens and closes, and Izaya knows he's alone with Shizuo once more. “You didn't knock this time.”

“Didn't think I needed to. It's not like you weren't expecting me.” Shizuo leans down, scrutinizes Izaya. “You're hungover.”

“Don't read my mind,” Izaya huffs, curling into himself.

“I didn't. You reek of alcohol.”

Grumbling, Izaya summons a blanket and throws it over himself. He doesn't know if he prefers Tsukumoya's company to Shizuo's, but at the moment, he thinks he'd rather deal with the vampire. At least for a little bit.

What a messy flea. Shizuo thinks, and then he walks away from the couch. There's the sound of him sifting through the fridge, but there isn't anything for him to find. Namie had the day off, and Shinra cooked what little was available the night before.

“You might have to order out,” Izaya calls. “You have a couple of hours before sunset.”

Shizuo growls loudly, thinks something about Izaya being useless, and then pulls out his phone. Izaya stays where he is and doesn't move, enjoys the silence for a few moments before it's ultimately shattered by Shizuo, who is suddenly sitting on the couch near Izaya, but still far enough to where they're both comfortable.

“I ordered pizza,” Shizuo says, and he leans back against the couch cushions. “You should foot the bill.”

“If you wanted me to pay, you could've ordered something better,” Izaya replies.

“Nah, everywhere else would've taken too long. Pizza is fast and easy.”

Izaya watches sleepily as Shizuo picks up the remote and turns the TV on, flipping through a few channels before settling on a soap opera. It should feel weird, sitting here with Shizuo, watching a woman sob because she caught her husband having an affair, but it really doesn't feel weird at all. Maybe Izaya is too tired to feel one way or another about it, or maybe their strange mental link has done the majority of the work in making them civil towards one another. Either way, Izaya feels comfortable enough to let his guard down a little, and it's an instant relief, like setting down something immensely heavy.

“So, I don't get it. Why are you just sitting here feeling like shit when you can heal yourself easily enough?” Shizuo is still looking at the screen, but he's back to poking around in Izaya's head, whether he knows he's doing it or not.

“Shut up, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says without any real bite.

“Oh. You just want to feel bad. Seems like a stupid thing for someone who's supposed to be some kind of genius, but whatever.”

The woman on screen is confronting her husband's mistress, and it winds up in a fist fight on a balcony. Izaya snorts when the mistress is pushed off to her death. How predictable. Shizuo is scowling at the TV, but he's thinking about his shared dreams with Izaya, and also about some images he's been seeing through Izaya's side of the link. He's also thinking about Shinra, who apparently ran into Shizuo last night after his last appointment. Shinra seemed worried about Izaya.

He's a good actor. Izaya sends. He always has been.

I don't think he was acting. You look worse than you normally do.

I'm hungover, as you so aptly put it. You being in my head isn't helping me feel better.

“I'm not doing it on purpose!” Shizuo snaps, and the sudden loudness has Izaya flinching. “I don't get why it's happening either, okay? I'm only just now starting to believe it's not actually you doing it.”

Because you've seemed like such a mess ever since it started. Shizuo thinks, and Izaya grinds his teeth in frustration.

“I'm not a mess.”

“What did that guy want?” Shizuo asks, changing the subject abruptly.

“Akabayashi-san stops by from time to time to threaten me. It's a pastime for him.” Izaya is starting to feel nauseous again, so he closes his eyes and wills it to go away.

“Don't you work for him, though?”

“I don't work for anybody. I'm a freelance informant for hire, and I give the organization he's part of information when they pay me for it, same as anyone else.”

Shizuo frowns, thinks something biting about Izaya working for the Yakuza. “He seemed like he wanted to hurt you.”

“Oh, he does. They all do,” Izaya says. “They'd kill me if they could.”

Shizuo doesn't like that he has something in common with the Yakuza. He grimaces before he says, “So what? You're just too strong to die or some shit?”

“No,” Izaya replies. “I'm just too important for them do dispose of. I'm part of the reason they're as powerful as they are, and they know it, even if they hate it, even if they hate me. I'm the strongest tool in their arsenal. Killing me would be crippling themselves.”

Silence follows Izaya's words. Shizuo's mind is a whirlwind now, thinking so many things at once, all laced with rage. He doesn't like anything about what Izaya said, the way it was said so flippantly, the way Izaya doesn't seem to mind. Shizuo doesn't like that Izaya thinks of himself as a tool, as something other than human, even if it might be true. Shizuo doesn't want to think of himself as other than human, either.

Shizuo doesn't seem to do well with the truth.

“That isn't true,” Shizuo growls, no doubt in response to Izaya's thoughts. “You're a person. I'm a person. We're other things too, but whatever we are, we're human first. You said so yourself, right? You can die, you can be killed. You're human enough to die.”

“I'm telling you this once, and once only, beast,” Izaya murmurs, opening his eyes to glare at the TV as he speaks. “It would be the exact same as breaking a screwdriver, or losing your favorite toy. If I died, that would be it. They would just replace me. They want to, and they would if they could, but I'm one of the last of my kind, and I'm definitely the most powerful one left. I don't care about it, because I've always known I was only useful for what I knew and what I could do. If you're going to be hated, you damn well better be useful. That's the way it is.”

“Fuck that!” Shizuo yells, and he stands, his hands clenched into fists. “What the hell are you talking about? You think it's okay to sit here and feel sorry for yourself, like you didn't have a hand in being the hated little rat you are? You think it's just because of your magic? You're the one deciding to do the shitty things you do. People hate you. If they knew you were a witch, whatever, maybe some of them would hate you more, but it's only because they hate you already. Get the fuck over yourself.”

Izaya laughs, delighted at the outburst. Doing so hurts his head, and his vision swims. This is pitiful, isn't it? Feeling useless, being forced to lie back and swallow vomit just so no one else can ask anything more of him. If he's a tool, he's a damaged one, and every time he's human, he dulls himself a little more. If this is a game to be played, and his opponents have the winning hand, Izaya will make sure none of them win. He'll destroy himself if he has to. He'll destroy everything.

“Trust me, Shizu-chan,” he croaks, “I know they would've hated me either way. The difference between us is you're searching so hard for a place to belong, and I've accepted long ago that it doesn't exist. Now would you kindly shut the fuck up? My head hurts.”

Shizuo is seething, his breaths labored as he works to calm himself down. He wants to lift Izaya up and shake him until his head pops off. Then Shizuo wants to tear apart everything in the apartment, maybe go punch Akabayashi for good measure. He hates that he sees the reasoning in Izaya's words. He hates himself, and he hates Izaya more than anything else.

“Get out of my head,” Shizuo grits out.

“I'm trying,” Izaya says, and he leaves it at that.

They lapse back into silence, and when Shizuo flops back onto the couch, his brow is furrowed, his jaw set. It's clear he isn't going to let this go, but he at least doesn't want to be in a terrible mood before his transformation. The bloodlust is worse when he's angry. He has to keep reminding himself that Izaya is a liar, first and foremost. Izaya uses words to protect himself, and Shizuo doesn't have to, and won't, ever do the same.

“Well, isn't this cozy?” Tsukumoya's voice asks as he walks down the stairs. He's wearing a hood, covering himself from the weakening rays of sun that still shine through the windows.

“I thought you left,” Izaya calls as Shizuo whirls to growl at the vampire.

“I was going to, but I figured I'd stick around to make sure you didn't die,” Tsukumoya says. He smirks at the scene of Shizuo and Izaya sitting together almost peacefully, watching trash TV in silence. “I wondered how your nights with the puppy went. I suppose I can see for myself now.”

“Why the fuck are you here?!” Shizuo barks, and then he whirls to face Izaya. “Does he always just pop up like this?”

“Not always,” Izaya says. “He stayed the night.”

“What?”

“Relax, Heiwajima-san. Rest assured, I didn't touch him.” Tsukumoya flounces past the couch while Shizuo's face turns a variety of fun colors. “At least, not much.”

Shizuo stands from the couch, and Izaya sighs loudly.

“Don't you have anything better to do?” he asks Tsukumoya, who is still looking at Shizuo appraisingly.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I trust you won't drink yourself stupid a second night in a row?” Tsukumoya says, looking at Izaya.

“I don't have the luxury tonight,” Izaya answers.

“Right, you're puppy-sitting.”

“Do you mean me, you fucking—“ Shizuo starts, and he barrels towards Tsukumoya, who easily side-steps him.

“Make sure you eat something at some point,” Tsukumoya calls to Izaya. “That pizza will help you feel better.”

“I don't want it,” Izaya grumbles, covering his head with the blanket. He hates both of the people in his space right now, and he just wants to sleep.

You must be making a conscious effort to not heal yourself if you're still this sick over a hangover. Tsukumoya's voice sounds in Izaya's head. Is this really helping anything?

Yes. Izaya can't escape either of them, can he? They're both annoyingly perceptive and persistent. He can feel fondness radiating from Tsukumoya, but it's quickly being overshadowed by the amount of fury pouring from Shizuo, who is clearly listening to their mental conversation.

“Your pizza is here,” Tsukumoya says, and the knock comes a moment later. “Make sure he eats something, please,” he says to Shizuo, and then he vanishes before anything else can be said.

***

Shizuo scarfs down the entire pizza at breakneck speed, once or twice trying to get Izaya to accept a slice before giving up. He doesn't care if Izaya eats or not, and he doesn't care if Izaya feels sick or not. Shizuo's mood increases as he eats, and by the time he's finished, he's as mellow as he ever is while sharing a space with his mortal enemy.

Izaya, for his part, is starting to feel a little better. His stomach rumbles a bit at the scent of the pizza, but his appetite wanes at the grotesquely barbaric way Shizuo eats. It seems worse than usual, more...animalistic.

In fact...something seems off about Shizuo, even for a full moon. Maybe something happened earlier, or maybe Shizuo just went too long without eating until now, but Izaya can sense the bloodlust permeating from Shizuo like a miasma.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya says, slowly sitting up to level his gaze at his unwanted guest. “Have you taken your potion?”

“Huh? Of course I have,” Shizuo replies. His hair is glowing from the fading rays of the sun as it descends behind the tall buildings outside.

“Have you taken it exactly as you should, the way I instructed?” Izaya asks through clenched teeth, already knowing the answer.

“Well— I drank it all a couple of days ago. I spent all day with Vorona, and I didn't want—“ Shizuo pauses at the look on Izaya's face. “What? What did I do wrong? You said to take it all before the full moon, and I did!”

“I told you to drink it every day, bit by bit, and to finish it before the full moon. The exact way you've done every month until now, because you're so pathetic in the presence of that woman that you can't follow basic fucking instructions!” Izaya snaps, and Shizuo's eyes widen.

He looks scared. Shizuo thinks, and then a beat later, Oh fuck. He's scared of me.

“Izaya, I—“ Shizuo begins, and then his hands grip his knees as his body begins to shake. The sun's rays fade at last, bathing them in twilight. “I feel...wrong.”

Izaya stands from the couch, the room spinning as he does. He's not at his full power. Even if he weren't hungover, he hasn't been eating or sleeping the way he should, buried in work as he is, and reluctant to care for himself as ever. He starts towards the stairs, in search of the healing potion he should have taken earlier, but he knows it's already far too late, as Shizuo's body is already beginning to crack and twist, and his mind is already gone, replaced by that of a true monster.

“Shizu-chan, you're such a fucking idiot,” Izaya hisses, and his sentence is barely finished before Shizuo is lunging at him, aiming for his throat.

#with teeth fic #shizaya #Izaya Orihara #Shizuo Heiwajima #witchy izaya #werewolf shizuo #shit goes down and also apparently people like Tsukumoya pestering Izaya so I added more of that

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yanderecandystore · 4 years ago

Note

may i please get a small fic about the loveshrooms?

I didn't expect anyone to like the idea, but I'm so glad you did!

I was going to bring a Yan Bakugou into the mix but- I felt like I could end up disappointing you in a way so I'll just leave it as a ambiguous character, what do you think?

Also, love shrooms is actually a really good name lol!

TW/Tags: loss of sanity and mentions of depressive thoughts // fungal contamination and mentions of diseases (and quarantine) // none gender specific (neither the reader or the character mentioned have their gender assigned) // touch starving // victim blaming mentality.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

In need of help [Yandere!Virus/Fungus x Reader - Short Fanfiction]:

They were laying in their bed, wondering what the hell was happening with their body. It's been a week since they started to feel this way, endless headaches, hot burning skin temperature yet a feeling of always being cold dominated them, as if they were naked in the middle of a blizzard.

One day they started feeling dizzy while they were at work, so their boss has told them to go back home and rest, and they haven't gone back to their jobs in a full week because of some random sickness they got!

That's what they thought back then, they thought that this was all just a little flu that had ruined their days, but no, it turned out to be something completely more different than that.

They have heard about some sort of disease outbreak happening in their town, something that was still fairly new and mysterious to even the highest of doctors and world leaders. It was so sudden, out of nowhere people started to show symptoms of some sort of new illness, something that develops slowly yet quietly.

The contaminated would feel all that they were feeling right now, if not worse, since a lot of contaminated have shown some weird aggressive behavior randomly. Those that were contaminated were told to limit their contact with other people, some were privileged enough to be able to stay in hospitals receiving professional care, but they couldn't do that, they didn't want to believe that they were contaminated by some stupid looking fungus.

They just… Really, really didn't want to see a doctor, even if the symptoms are getting worse and worse, something forced them to keep their mouth shut. They didn't want to go to a hospital, they didn't want any doctors or scientists experimenting on them, they didn't want to be trapped inside that pearly white hell.

They heard rumours about servers experiments being done inside each hospital available, which caused the contaminated to get even more desperate to get out of there.

The thing is, no one knows if the contaminated were the ones who had decided that they didn't want to stay there, or if something else was dictating that decision.

Apparently, the cause of such distress was a little mushroom species that have only been discovered after the first incident happened. An incident where the first contaminated to fully develop the parasite had attacked someone in the streets (well, allegedly attacked, since there is no proof of the guy actually hurting someone, but it doesn't matter now since he was eliminated before he could attack someone). After that the contamination had spread wildly, it was as if the existence of such a dangerous thing had just been announced and out of nowhere, the damn thing had taken a hold of people's lives.

In one second everything was fine, and then in the next they were stuck at home, feeling hopeless. At least they don't have to be the lab rat of some crazy doctor and scientist. Until now, it has been pretty easy to hide the fact they were contaminated, key words being "until now", guess what happened?

"- Fucking- itchy fungus." They yelled as they continued to scratch their itchy arms, there were visible pink and red blotches around them, and on top of that they were now hurting because of how much force they were using on their itchy arms.

They have learned that it takes too many weeks for it to develop marks around the contaminated bodies, and that the mushrooms spread and thrive in cold habitats.

And guess who was the idiot that has come back from hiking in a snowy forest about two weeks ago? Yeah that 's right! This imbecile right here!

"- Ugh, what the hell do you want from me?" It's been three days since they started talking with the fungus growing inside them, since they noticed that indeed, the fucking thing comprehends human communication somehow.

Or maybe they were just insane.

This was basically an everyday routine, the mushroom would get agitated, they would ask it what it wanted, and in a brilliant moment of concentration they would remember exactly what the mushroom wanted.

"- Pizza again? Come on, you're going to make me spend all of my savings on some lackluster pizza?" They said while looking at their colorful arms, they needed to cover them if they wanted to see anyone else soon.

You see, ever since they started to stay inside their house to not spread the contamination, they have been ordering pizza at a very terrible place that sold only the most boring pizza they could have ever eaten. No flavor at a cheap prize!

It seemed like the stupid fungus had taken a liking to the terrible taste of nothingness, so they had decided to obliged with the fungus wishes.

"- Stupid parasite, you're lucky I can't beat you for making me waste so much in daily deliveries." They continued to be grumpy about it as they put some clothes on, normally they love to spend their time alone naked, and apparently the fungus also agreed with the decision. What? It's their apartment, they can be naked if they want.

They took their phone and typed the number to the pizzeria, well, at least they never take too long to deliver their mediocre pizza.

"- Hi, it's Anthony's Pizzeria, how can I help you?" They heard a familiar voice come from the other side of the call.

Oh.

"- What-!" They yelped, almost causing the call to accidentally end right there and then.

It's you, it's your voice! They know it it's, they are sure of it!

"- … Uhn, hey, are you okay-"

"- I'm f-fine, sorry!" They have interrupted your question, they were so caught up about your voice that they forgot to order the pizza.

Oh but your voice! Your voice was so different in the call than in real life, it's so… Interesting! Yeah, that's surely the word they were looking for!

They have called so many times yet this was the first time you were the one to pick up! They guess that because of the contamination and quarantine stuff going on, they were low on staff and you were the one receiving the orders.

After all, you were the only person that worked there that would deliver their pizza every single time. It became such a normal thing that you two even know each other's names!

[Y/N], it's such a beautiful name, it fits the owner. Although they think you're pretty unlucky to have to work at a terrible place and also do deliveries to an unwelcoming neighborhood.

That's the reason why you're the one to always bring their pizza, it's because you're the only worker that they are willing to risk in such a terrible place. Fortunately, their only client around this area is them.

When they were about to finish their order, they asked if you were the one that was going to bring the pizza.

"- Yeah, it is me. You know, low on staff and all, why do you ask?" You ask them with that welcoming voice of yours. A hint of happiness graced your tone, you were happy that it was them ordering again.

Although you still think that their obsession with mediocre pizza is a little concerning, you ended up forming some sort of friendship with them. An odd one for sure, but you're still happy about it.

When you first met them, they would always give you some really scary vibes. They were so, well, cold and closed off. Never smiling, never giving tips, always in a terrible mood, etc.

But recently, they started to treat you with so much respect, even joking about your job with you. The first time you saw them smile, you thought you were seeing a completely different person.

You're still glad you found this new version of them. They look happier and you felt good for them. Maybe they have found their own happiness.

To hear your confirmation was the most exciting thing they could have heard all day! They were sulking in this disgusting room all day, yet hearing that you're coming makes them feel alive!

They can't even hide their excitement, you can hear them being happy and giggly over the idea of you coming over. Even if technically you're only coming there to deliver them their order and all.

When the call ends, they soon are brought back to reality. When they were talking to you, they felt like they were in the best place on Earth, yet when they looked around their apartment they could only observe the clues of a disgusting creature living in this dirty ass place without ever cleaning it, not even once.

It's a depressing sight, yet they have learned to deal with it. It was normal for them to be lazy and an absolute pig, although they are aware that even pigs are a lot cleaner than them.

They should at least take a shower before you come in.

And just as the idea of you being anywhere near them came into their mind, their personality had switched again, from a grumpy depressed loser to… to…

To whatever the hell they are right now!

Seriously, they were feeling like shit all day, yet at the moment the opportunity to see you comes up, they feel like their day it's already 100 times better!

They feel their heart pounding at an incredible passing, the water of the shower hitting their skin helping their temperature to cook down. They don't even feel so cold anymore, they feel- Powerful!

They feel better than the last time they saw you, which was yesterday, so it doesn't even make sense for them to miss your presence the way that they do, but still!

Apparently even the fungus seemed to be happier about this situation, as their arms weren't itchy at all and the headache they were feeling seemed to have stopped.

They thought the thing was only awaiting its meal, as all living creatures do when faced with the opportunity to get food without any efforts put into it.

It was as if the motive to actually fix a little bit of this place had suddenly appeared at the mention of your arrival! It was uncommon for them to do such a thing, even for a guest, and their neighbors can testify.

Not that they would want to be involved in their life either way, their neighbors know how unpleasant they can be, even to those that live near them.

To think your presence has such an impact on them and their life, even though they never experienced anything like this before, their sudden change in mood never really crossed their minds as being bad or unconventional. It just… Happens.

And- It doesn't feel bad at all.

Maybe this lonely loser is finally understanding the importance of healthy social interactions! Good for them?!

After getting out of the shower and putting their clothes back on, they straight up jump out of the bathroom to complete their next task, which was making their apartment seem a little more *pleasant", at least for someone that was looking at it from the other side of their door.

But before they could do much, their apartment bell rang and you called them from the other side of the door. You did something, however, that would soon be proven to be a bad decision.

You have decided to call them by their name instead of the usual "your pizza is here" or whatever the hell you used to scream so the customers could hear. You thought that you had spent enough time with them to be able to use their name in a friendly manner, which was nothing wrong with that, dearest! Is just that-

They haven't been able to hear people say their name in such a friendly way in a long, long time. It's both refreshing and terrifying how they craved that form of attention.

And what is just as terrifying is how fast they throw their body towards the door, like a desperate addicted trying to reach their dose of dopamine. But that comparison it's absurd, right? It has nothing to do with the current situation.

Oh no, wait-

"- [Y-Y/N]!? You came in e-earlier than I thought! How is everything going??" They would welcome you in, but the truth is that they haven't been able to finish all of the cleaning. Basically, they took all of the garbage that was in front of the door's view and put it deeper in their apartment.

Just like sweeping dirt under the rug, you were only able to see a moderately good looking apartment behind them, yet in reality, all of the dirty dishes and clothes that were previously laying around there, were now shoved under some tables in a desperate need to impress you.

Even if a little bit.

Because of how suddenly they opened the door and came into view, you got yourself a little spooked by the taller figure in front of you. They always looked pretty scary in your eyes, yet recently you started to notice that they have a softer side.

You can't help but associate them with big scary dogs, you guess that they only put some sort of facade to keep themselves appearing to be tough and strong and "scary". You can't lie that they got you pretty good the first time you met.

You answer them, telling how hard it has been to work in an awful pizzeria while the world is burning and a weird disease suddenly has been discovered out of nowhere. They tried their best to continue the small talk, yet it seemed like they didn't need to do much because soon enough you were babbling about your life.

They loved it, you were always so talkative, even to a complete stranger. They wanted to pay close attention to you and what you were saying yet they simply couldn't! Your presence was so overbearingly sweet that they thought they would have a heart attack!

I'm being serious though, their heart started to accelerate out of nowhere and a weird feeling started to arise inside their hearts. They felt so weird and uncomfortable because of the sudden sensations yet- It felt so good in a way.

They felt alive for once, they felt- They felt like they were capable of anything!

Yet they still felt like they needed something more than just… This, whatever the hell is giving them such a wonderful feeling. Could it really be you, the cause of such wonderful emotions to bloom?

Your skin looked so soft, your smile was so gentle even when you were focused on giving them their order, you looked like you cared for them so much that when you noticed their odd behavior you put your hand in their shoulder.

This one, simple little contact managed to get a hold of them and their thoughts, their breathing now way faster and frantic than before.

How long have they been without a human touch? They are pretty sure it wasn't long, yet they still feel… Shamefully needy.

They can't tell what's worse, trying to convince you that they were okay, or trying to convince themselves to not do something stupid. They didn't know what it was, but there was a suspicious feeling crawling up their spine, the feeling that if they didn't control themselves something bad could happen.

They lied of course, saying they were just- Dizzy and a little tired, that they were doing everything on auto pilot, and even if you end up believing them, the moment you take your hand away us the moment they regret not giving in to whatever odd urge they were having a couple of seconds ago.

You were soon about to leave, they didn't even notice that they were holding the pizza box and almost let it fall from their loose grip.

"- H-Hey, wait! [Y/N] I-" they sounded absolutely pathetic, they sounded desperate for your attention but at least it seemed like you didn't mind or simply didn't notice their tone of voice.

You were causing so much frustration yet you remained oblivious to their suffering.

"- Do you… Perhaps, want to hangout later? I-If you're not busy, of course…." They sounded like a teenager who just confessed their crush on someone, well, if they were trying in that situation, normally the other person would at least be aware of their feelings.

But no, of course they aren't and of course you only see their offer as a way to call you for a friendly date.

People sweet and naive like you used to get on their nerves, they used to ignore your type of person yet-

Here they are! Being pathetic and stuttering, the only good thing to come out of this interaction was that you accepted their offer.

At least you're kind enough to accept to meet this poor thing again in a more private scenario. Not in your daily "customer and worker" type of interaction.

And as your form goes away at each step you take, the intrusive thoughts start to come in again. Those thoughts, those pains from earlier, everything was starting to get back.

It really does seem like you're the cause for their problems. Their headaches, their low self-esteem thoughts, the stupid fungus itching their skin, all of that was your fault… Somehow.

In someway or another you were the one that would always show up in their dreams, in their intrusive thoughts. They closed the door to their apartment while slowly placing the pizza on their coffee table, since now their mind was starting to come up with the solution to their daily pains.

This is not about pizza, this is about you! About how you consume their mind, even when you aren't present.

Although, every time you're near them, they feel so much better, like all of their issues have gone away.

That 's it! You're not only the source of their problems, but also the solution! Oh, that 's perfect! They know exactly what they need to do to make sure you cure them.

Yeah… YEAH! YES! They won't need to suffer every day waiting for the next time to see you, they can simply have you by their side, right??!

Please, please tell them, please tell this mad person that you'll cure them of the same thing you contaminated them with!!

Please… They feel so, so cold and lonely. Their only company is a parasite who seems to agree with this person's mad, delusional thoughts.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep stuff #sheep's stuff #yandere x reader #yandere fanfics #yandere fanfic #yandere short fanfiction #yandere virus #yandere mushroom #yandere zombie #special delivery request #special delivery short fanfiction

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raitrolling · 3 years ago

Text

Calm, After the Storm

[Easy Reading Version on Toyhou.se]

The clean-up for Vernrot Harbour had been slower going than Lusien expected. There was no structural damage to the town, no residents had been harmed as far as he was aware of, and the organisation that’d moved in to defeat the ‘threat’ were able to manage the situation quite cleanly. He had numerous encounters with members of Gaia since the incident: first on the night of the event when he was prevented from getting anywhere close to the shoreline, no matter how many times he insisted he knew the person causing all the trouble; again the night after when a member of the hospital wing knocked on his door to check him for signs of eldritch mental corruption, due to his close contact with a horrorterror (supposedly the results were normal… For this town’s standards); and then at least once a night after that as more people were brought in for clean-up duty.

The clean-up duty, of course, being restoring the balance between the numerous other entities inhabiting the town.

Lusien has always been familiar with the supernatural, and this familiarity has made him attuned to the state of the town. Those Who Slumber In The Deep are placid for a collective of horrorterrors living in the depths of Vernrot Harbour’s, well, harbour. Their influence is subtle, altering the weather patterns to their liking, and infecting the minds of the residents as the eldritch are wont to do. Some are more susceptible to their influence, typically those who live closer to their abode or spend much longer in the ocean than the average troll. But only he, gifted with the power to see the unseen and comprehend the incomprehensible, are aware of just what they’re doing to the residents. The scientist who lives by the shoreline doesn’t know why he feels lonely when he is unable to hear the whispers in the back of his mind, the author further towards the centre of town doesn’t think about why they’re always so drawn to the ocean whenever they feel troubled. And Lusien cannot tell them, the horrorterrors don’t allow them to believe him.

It is the other entities that are of most concern. The shadow beings were more restless than usual, and their home invasions became more frequent. The spirits residing in the lighthouse required more favours to pacify, feeling extra capricious out of spite for their ‘territory’ being infringed upon. Mostly they just required food or a small sacrifice, and while Lusien didn’t enjoy whenever they sought out something more from him, he was still compelled to carry out their wishes. Every other supernatural being that made their home in the town had their own sets of rules to follow, an invisible checklist of tasks and favours that once completed will make them consider not acting out again for an unspecified amount of time. No one else in the town was aware of their existence, and thus it became Lusien’s duty to tend to each and every one of their needs for the sake of the livelihoods of others. No one but him would notice if a resident was spirited away to another realm or possessed by a cranky entity who was rudely awoken by the songs of The Choir, and no one would be grateful for his efforts, but he still felt it was important to help them.

The staff at Gaia had been more than helpful. The trolls they sent were all well-equipped to handle the supernatural in a non-violent manner, although Lusien would often be called over to guide them through the more unpredictable whims of the entities. “Look for the blueblood with the starry eye” became a phrase often spoken by members of the organisation, and it was not uncommon for someone to come running over to the lighthouse to seek him out for an emergency. He would ask about what happened to Thri- The horrorterror they captured that caused all of this, but no one had an answer for him. They probably wouldn’t have an answer if he used his actual name either, given their tendency for codenames and classifications. The best he’d heard is that ‘the creature’ had returned to its troll form, and was currently detained. Lusien didn’t particularly enjoy the way they spoke of his friend, but he’d given up on correcting every single person he asked.

He was at the pier again, fishing up some more flounders to harvest their skeletons for a ritual as his nightly routine had been for the past couple of nights, when he heard the sound of heeled boots stomping on the wooden boardwalk approaching him.

“Ugh… No one told me there were gonna be some fucked up toads here.”

Lusien turned to face the Gaia employee whining about the wildlife they must have come across, a tall indigblood wearing a white, slightly-translucent coat. They had a company umbrella in their hand that was most likely issued to them as part of their excursion to the rainy town, and they’d pulled up the hood of their coat over their head for extra protection against the wet weather. Through their scrunched-up expression of disgust, Lusien had noticed their eyes were rather striking: He’d never seen heterochromia as intense as their pale purple and reddish-pink eyes. Before he can make a comment about how the ‘toad’ they mentioned was most likely a mutated variation of the juvenile fishmen that plague the waters of the harbour, they’re quick to continue.

“You’re Lusien, right? The guy everyone’s been going on about?” There’s a nice, casual tone to their voice, which contrasts greatly against the horrendous vibes Lusien can see latching onto them. They’ve been deeply tainted by something he cannot quite figure out, but just like all the other residents of this town they seem completely unbothered by it.

He nods in response to their question, and cannot help but wonder if they’re genuinely unaware of whatever magical influence has poisoned their mind or if they’re simply choosing to ignore it. They smile, in a way that makes Lusien’s hypothesis favour towards the latter.

“Pog. Yeah so I’m guessing you’re used to us coming up to you to give progress reports on the state of the town, but I got nothing. The reports I’ve been getting seem to suggest it’s getting better, so we’ll be outta here in a couple nights once we’re certain it’s all back to your usual level of fucked up.” They shrug. “If it was still out of control, I wouldn’t be here. I’m like a canary in a mineshaft, I’m not assigning myself to check out certain towns if there’s a risk of Shitbrains Syndrome. I already got enough of that.”

Yep, definitely aware of it but choosing to ignore it. Somehow even more off-putting than if they were just as clueless as the residents of the town. Despite feeling disconcerted, Lusien nods again. He’s always polite, no matter how disturbing his conversational partner may be.

“Okay. Thank you for the update.” It wasn’t his place to pry into anything else they had implied, and they probably appreciate that. It’s hard to get a read on what they’re thinking.

“Oh yeah, also. Update from the Starfish himself. I’m not a messenger but he’d probs appreciate it if I told you this-”

Lusien’s ears twitch at the mention of the ‘starfish’. He thinks he recalls Thrixe once mentioning his lusus, in a conversation a long time ago about stargazing.

“He’s like, legit crushed about the whole horrorterror thing. He asked a couple times if you were alright, but psychological records are confidential and all that so I just told him yeah. Don’t really blame him that much about being kinda emo about the whole ordeal. And no one really wanted to give him any updates cuz, y’know, that’s a wholeass horrorterror we got locked up, but I knew the guy already so it kinda became my job to deliver the goods. I didn’t even get a bonus added to my pay for that...” They mutter that last part as they look away, glancing down towards the shoreline where Thrixe turned. “Anyway. I’m sure he’d probs wanna tell you to your face if the town’s ever gonna want him back here, but. Just thought you should know.”

For the first time in nights, Lusien felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. That feeling of relief with almost as much intensity to that of whenever he sees Anirus’ ship float into the harbour. He was okay. Thrixe was okay.

“I’m glad to hear that.” The blueblood smiles. “And thank you for being so kind to him.”

The indigoblood was right. It probably won’t be likely that Thrixe would be able to return here for a long time given the whims of the entities, but Lusien would look forward to that night, whenever it may be.

#drabble #lusien avalon #glasya elliss #with brief mentions of #vallis reyleh #celise shoket #had this idea floating in my head for a while now and decided Fuck It. lets write it out

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what-a-messsss · 4 years ago

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2x3 rewatch

I keep forgetting that Brach is still in S2. Oops. Also, I apparently went to check something in S6 last time I watched something, so it started at 6x2 instead of 2x3 and I yelled. But anyway, on with this mess. “Death Came in Like Thunder” apparently. It sure did.

Ah yes, let us not forget that Branch is MANLEH. This shall be proven to us by him murdering his cousin, Trunk, with big ax. Chop chop, Branch, kill Trunk. But oh no, must also show that he is People Smart, so must also lose because this makes him likable. And many white people clap. Yaaaay. But be sure to say, “I let him win, Ferg,” while your competitor is right next to you, so he almost surely heard you. Good good.

Oh Ferg. Could you look more gormless if you tried? (I mean, probably not, since presumably that was the goal of the actor, so he would have been trying. But still.) Bb.

Heh, nice thematic cut to Walt also chopping wood. And YAY, Henry’s gorgeous truck (and gorgeous self). I’m just going to take a moment to appreciate the fact that Henry rolls up and just helps himself to some of Walt’s thermos of coffee. Because of course he does. But I do so love these touches that they put in that do underline the fact that they are married have been besties for going on 40 years. Also, I love this jacket of Henry’s. The woven top, jean jacket sort of one? Yeah, top 5 costume pieces of his for me. (Also on that list, all basically tied with each other, basically any pants he wears. I am reminded, when they cut back out to a full body shot. Because I am very shallow, and he is very pretty.)

Haaaaaa. And of course Cady talked to Henry before she talked to Walt. Walt is a butthead. And, yeah yeah, she just found out that he’d been lying to her for over a year, but that just proves my point that Walt is a butthead. And we’re back to this whole idea that she left her phone, which just... ugh. No. But Henry’s face when he says that she said that she is safe, and he’s so worried, but still willing to respect her boundaries.

“She is an adult, Walt.” “She’s my daughter.” For fuck’s sake, you jackass, your ADULT daughter; that’s the whole flipping point! Also, that little emphasis on my daughter, pfft. If you didn’t want to feel like she preferred her cool dad to you, maybe try being less of an AAAAAAASSHOLE. And, like, respecting her. Even a weensy little bit.

“Etta Place” I don’t remember if we find out why that’s the ‘assumed name’ that Cady chose, but I’m intrigued. Wait, I just googled. Looooool. She spent years with Butch and Sundance. Nice.

Walt is such a soft touch with teens. *snack crackle pop* that kneecap back into place. Vic starts this scene saying, “The 911 operator,” though, which is interesting, because I was kind of under the impression that Ruby was the main dispatcher, so it would be kind of heartening if she actually had back up with that. ...Or maybe they’re just far enough out that a cell call made would be picked up by a tower farther out and have to be routed back in to the station/them. I have no idea how that actually works. Another rabbit hole for me to totally not go down. Hopefully. Shit. They’ve apparently upped the fine for trespass since the show, though, because it’s $750 (or 6 months in jail) now and Walt says it’s $500.

And once again, we see Vic actually wearing gloves while investigating a suspicious death, and Walt just squinting into the distance helpfully. I suppose “things got bad” in Basque country around WWII, but there has been friction there that dates back before the Spanish Civil War, or even the Carlist Wars the previous century. It did get gnarly with the dictatorship of Franco, and the formation of the ETA in retaliation, though, so yeah. (Francisco Franco is also on the list of people who anybody with a time machine should go back and beat the shit out of.)

Shit, I forgot about the animal death.

Knock knock, no answer. Better just wander in without a warrant. I know that the guy who they know lives there is dead, but still, no fricking warrant; I suppose the worry of a poisoning could count as probably cause?

Gods, but there are moments when I do absolutely adore Vic, and they are usually when she’s taking the piss out of Walt. “Reclusive bachelor chic; you and Marco have the same decorator.” Looool. But also, sad, because Martha has only been gone for a little over a year, and Walt is not the kind of person who would, like, change stuff and get rid of her things, so that’s kind of odd. Maybe Henry and/or Cady went though and put away some of her things to try to help Walt move on? But damn, the ‘excuse you’ look on Walt’s face when she does say it, pffft.

AND AGAIN, Vic wearing gloves, Walt with his bare ass hands picking up the picture of Picasso’s Guernica; can you at least *pretend* you’re a cop, *some* of the time, buddy?

Lol at the barrabilak; they are pretty well by the Rocky Mountains, so it’s probably not all that surprising that Walt’s had some “Rocky Mountain oysters” before.

I had forgotten that Vic had four brothers. But her comment about Sal going off to look after the sheep and how if someone had told her that one of her brothers were dead she “wouldn’t care about any damn sheep,” I don’t know. It kind of annoys me. It’s totally in character for her, which is good, but I think it’s part of what can annoy me about her character. Different people grieve differently, but also, I know she’s only been in Wyoming for a year or two, tops, but how is it so hard to fathom that someone one would be concerned about their livelihood, even in the face of personal tragedy? Just, seeing beyond her own very narrow experience doesn’t seem like something she’s very good at. It would be one thing if she’d framed it as “this is suspicious, and here’s why I think so as a cop,” but it was, “I wouldn’t react that way personally, so it’s sus.”

Sure, be suspicious because there’s a suspicious death and family members are always suspects until ruled out, but approach it like a cop. Or at least think about it from more angles than just your own, not terribly similar experience. You’re a white city cop who can’t (or won’t) adjust to being in BF rural-ville, but these are immigrant shepherds whose family come from a homeland where the cops were just as likely to kill you as answer questions, and you’re side-eying a guy for going to make sure that their meal ticket doesn’t get obliterated?

I need to keep reminding myself that I really did want to like Vic. I really did. She just... they don’t make it easy for me. Maybe she’s serving as an avatar for audience who don’t know about some of the culture stuff, and the audience get answers from her ignorance? But honestly, I wish they’d picked a different way to handle that, if that’s what they were trying to do. Her response to Henry being salty about Thanksgiving still really pisses me off. Because it was shitty and racist, and... do we really need a character basically rolling their eyes and saying, “It was so long ago, why don’t you just get over it,” about something that is intrinsically tied to the genocide of so many people? Why are Indigenous people just supposed to “get over it” but “Remember the Alamo” and “Southern Pride,” and shit? Fuck’s sake. Honestly, that might have been the moment when they lost me on her character. She has moments where she’s awesome, but they never really address her being fucking racist or give her a chance to grow into a better person. Which sucks a lot. Fuck. Ok, that was a lot. Sorry. Back to the actual ep.

AH, nice of you to beam in from the campaign trail, Brancheroo!

Uh, so I paused it to look at pic in the newspaper, and then being me, started to look at the articles surrounding the pic. And the one with the headline “Fans Injured At Local Game” is actually about the Stewart case? From 1x3? I’m guessing that somebody went to the trouble of writing up an article for that for some S1 ep after it and they just plugged it in because when not paused, you might catch “Sheriff Longmire” there and that’s all they need. Especially since the text starts to repeat after the first paragraph. (I am the worst pedantic little shit.) Ooooor, maybe even though it’s S2, it’s hardly been any time since 1x3? The date on the newspaper is March 31, 2012, so there’s a timeline hint.

Awwwwww, once Walt points out the bird, Ferg knows exactly what it is. Occasional twitcher, are we, my lad? “A red-tip meadowlark,” indeed. Oh bb; Ferg’s face when he sees Walt looking at the pic of him with Branch in the paper.

“You go too fast, you miss the little things.” Every once in a while, he actually sort of mentors Ferg. I wish he did more of that, especially since we see later how capable Ferg can be.

Go suck an egg, Branch. Why does she get all the “good” assignments? Maybe because she was actually on the job when they found the body, not campaigning.

OPE. Lizzie’s gift. Yeah, I’d probably choke on that coffee if I were you, too, girl. Better hope that there wasn’t perishable food stuffs in that gift, because that has been in there for a whiiiiiile, hasn’t it. Wait, was Ferg in the office when Lizzie dropped off the gift? Because his face said more than just “Did somebody give Vic a present?” Suuuuper subtle with that whole pushing the drawer closed with your foot there, Vic. Pfffft.

“Cyrano Caballero” How daaaare that skeeve take Cyrano’s name in vain?!?! (I have a thing about Cyrano de Bergerac. It’s quite possibly my favourite play, and I adore the character, and have exactly 0 chill about it at all. I find Brian Hooker’s translation of “The Ballade of the duel at the Hotel Bourgogne Between de Bergerac and a Boeotian” with “Then, as I end the refrian, thrust home,” vastly superior to any other translation that I’ve heard or read, though for the rest of it, I will grant that there are others to be preferred. But that version of his Ballade is exquisite, and I will not be swayed. Holy shit, FOCUS. That is so very much not the point.) It’s not even a throw away line in this ep, it’s just a random, very well chosen, if utterly appallingly insulting, company name. It’s actually incredibly clever for what the business is, and if it didn’t make me so stomping mad, I would applaud whoever came up with it heartily.

Vic’s face listening to this jackass’ spiel is a thing of beauty. “A good woman goes a long way of easing the obvious stresses of your daily life,” the jackass says, cutting his eyes at Vic when he says “obvious stresses,” and I caaaackle.

What is it about this guys’ horrible glasses that just makes him so much more hate-able? I’m not entirely sure, but kudos to whatever costumer put those on him, because they are perfect. In the ‘I want to punch him’ way of perfection.

And after all of that about Walt’s “lady friend,” Vic brings Lizzie’s present. Womp womp. That went super well. Yuuuup, run while you can.

Poor Ferg. Branch manipulates him, Vic ignores him, Walt shuts him down... Poor guy just can’t get a break.

I actually kind of like this motel manager--the one who “doesn’t judge people” and is a stickler for warrants? At least somebody in this county cares about warrants. Also, those doors are actually really pretty. Nice colour, and the carved scrollwork designs are nice.

What an odd shot: the one when they’re coming out of Walt’s office after talking to Skeevy McGrossFace and Rosa. It’s a weird sort of shaky-cam stepping back, just preceding Branch walking, and then turns to follow him when he sit’s on his desk. But it’s a really different style of shot than I can remember, so much so that it’s a bit jarring, especially after the series of nearly stationary close ups that we just had. Weird. [18:42-18-50]

Cady! I haven’t made much note of her costuming before this, but it seems notable that’s she’s only in monocromatics. Especially next to Fales in muted tones, but still some colour, and surrounded by the colourful grafitti of the alley where her mother was stabbed. Nice way of setting her apart from everything.

SHEEPIES! Ooooo, that wagon is so cool. Ah dang, the way that Sal corrects Walt’s pronunciation of his brother’s name is so gloriously passive aggressive. Good for you, my dude. Names are important, and people should have the respect to make the effort to get them right.

Aaaaaand Walt, the definition of Do, Don’t Tell, just shoves the guy to keep him from drinking the possibly dangerous water, rather than, like, using his words. Walt’s gonna Walt.

Iiiiiiiii am a mess, truly. It cuts to an architectural model and I start giggling like a 6th grader, because I know it’s going to be a Jacob scene. He’s not even on screen yet, ffs. HANDS. I’m fine. Totally fine. (That’s totally a lie. I just rewound to the beginning of the scene because I kept giggling too much to pay attention. What the hell.) First time we’ve seen one of the chips, which at this point must be a marketing mock-up, since nothing is built yet. And he actually types, not just doing the hunt-and-peck thing that is sometimes easier on a tablet.

Looking at the weaving that is up on his wall (maybe a rug?) I’m hoping that the prop people actually did buy from Northern Cheyenne artisans. They apparently did most of their filming in New Mexico, so I hope they made the effort to get the patterns right, and buy from the actual tribe they’re supposed to be portraying, I guess? And now I’m distracted by the fact that the random hanging light behind Jacob is at a weird angle?

Look, ever since I realized that the “Hey,” that Jacob does is apparently just A (thanks to it also happening in That Damned Xmas Movie) I am endlessly amused (and charmed) whenever Jacob does it. I don’t know why it makes me so happy, but it does. (This is legitimately embarrassing. How much trouble I am having focusing. Beyond my normal focus issues, which, as shown above, are already impressive. Because thiiiiirst.)

“My boys at the lumber yard did just throw you a campaign rally.” I love how Jacob is basically apparently not just his secret angel-investor, but also a sneaky campaign manager. Did Branch just think shit like the rally just happened? He’s not fricking Ferris Bueller; somebody organizes those. And apparently it’s either Jacob himself, or someone who Jacob appointed to do so.

“I thought you were just a casino developer.” You have noooo clue, Brancheroo. “I prefer to remain a silent partner. White people get nervous when Indians start taking back their land.” Oooooope. Especially interesting because there are previsions for the Tribal Council to purchase land to be Tribal land (Section 6 of Article IX of the Tribal Constitution), but this seems more along the lines of personal acquisition. Though maybe not, because “on the board” doesn’t necessarily equate to being the owner.

The set up of Jacob’s office is so interesting. Functionally for the show, it’s probably for better shooting angles, so that we can see more of Jacob behind the desk while Branch is sitting in front of it, but from an in-the-verse decorating standpoint, bit’s fascinating. He has this focal wall with the gorgeous wall hanging, flanked by floor to ceiling window, but instead of having his desk centered on that wall and directly facing the bulk of the room, it’s at an almost 45 degree angle on a huge rug, and it’s so unexpected. I kind of love it, and want to analyze it for days. Also worth noting is that pride of place is given to the Hotamétaneo’o headdress which is on a stand centered in front of the wall hanging.

How fucking tired must Jacob be. He’s used to Walt... Walting, but then Branch comes in, who he is literally spending his own money to support in his bid for sheriff, and he pulls the same shit of assuming that he’s behind Bad Shit. And then Branch frames it as “bad P.R,” so he’s there to “discuss it with [him] privately.” And then basically threatens him with Walt. I swear. ...there is something a little amusing about Walt being used as the stick in the carrot and a stick method of negotiating. He certainly is enough of a blunt object most of the time.

Oh fuck you so much, Branch. Playing the “can’t give you details about an ongoing investigation” card as though you have some professional or moral leg to stand on after basically blackmailing Jacob with Walt’s vendetta is just such shit. You don’t get to look down your nose at Jacob’s quid pro quo pragmatism when you were the one who came to him for financial backing. You sanctimonious little shitheel. If you didn’t want to deal with Jacob, you shouldn’t have taken his $100k. He’s a business man, and you’re an investment, and not a quixotic one.

“He’s probably the only person to have died from [hemlock] since Socrates.” And then Walt’s incredulous look and her, “Alright, I googled it,” were subtle comedic gold.

Ooooooo, that was a nice little shot. Not quite foreshadowing, but showing Branch’s suspicions and sort of inviting the audience to share them. Walt says his bit about the Army poisoning “Indian wells” to kill them off and get their land, and then we see Branch fiddling with the Four Arrows chip and narrow his eyes considering and slip the chip into his pocket, looking suspicious. It’s a really neat little moment of visual storytelling, no lines, literally three seconds long, just sort of snuck in there, but super effective. Really nicely done.

And again, Cady is in monochromatics. And, shit, just gave Fales Henry’s name. Aaaaaand right after, she realizes that the junkie was killed and realizes that it had to have been one of her dads (or so she thinks).

Sal’s monologue in the cell is a good emotional payoff that plays off of Vic’s comments towards the beginning of the episode. I see the narrative worth of her making them, and how the structure of the episode benefits from it; but seeing those writing elements from the outside of the show doesn’t make me able to like her as a character who said them in-universe. And then the threat Sal makes of vengeance on someone who killed one he loves also underscores the stuff with Cady’s investigation into her mother’s death very well. As much as I gripe about the writing *cough S6 cough finale cough* there really is some damn good writing in this show, and I don’t show enough appreciation for it.

Huh, and now there’s a sort of inverse of that weird shot preceding Branch from earlier, but this one is much more effective and less off-putting. This one [33:00] precedes Walt as he walks back into his office, still a medium close up, but it’s much steadier, and the way it is framed, it does quite a bit to convey his mindset, and he walks out of the shot and we see the three deputies following him in like baffled ducklings, making the shot serve another purpose, too. Which honestly makes that earlier shaky follow shot of Branch even weirder, because this one was so much better.

And then Walt has his creepy little speech about how someone would want to watch the light go out of their eyes and not caring if you get caught. I do appreciate that when he’s talking about the psychology of killing with poison he doesn’t just call it a “woman’s method” which media so often does. It might have been the writers keeping who the killer was abstruse, but it was still more gender neutral. Especially since according to The U. S. Department of Justice's report on Homicide Trends in the United States (1980 to 2008) of all poison killers in that time period, 60.5 percent were male and 39.5 percent female. (Table 5 on page 10.) So that long held idea that even Sherlock Holmes was written to have that poison is “of course” a woman’s weapon is pretty crap.

Awwww, the good old days when Walt paid attention to animals. ...I am still bizarrely salty about the fact that he never named his horse. What a good pupper!

And then we have a classic example of Sneaky!Walt, which always takes people quite by surprise, because he’s usually as subtle as Miley Cyrus.

Also because when he does this, it tends to be pretty fucked up, in a Make Someone Think They’re About To Die way. And then he does His Thing, where he just lays out all of his suppositions, with no proof, only the terror of her thinking that she’s been poisoned and you’re withholding medical intervention to get her to confess. And is, irritatingly, correct about his theories. But I’m pretty sure this qualifies as coercing a confession? She thinks she’s fucking dying. Even Vic looks at him like it’s fucked up, and her moral compass where he’s concerned is... skewed.

They way this reveal was played out, (”How’d they find her so fast?” “Hard to say...”) is somewhat ambiguous as to whether it’s supposed to be that Branch went there to tell Jacob or not, but I kind of doubt it? I kind of figure that the meeting that Jacob was having when Branch rambled in was already with Rosa signing the paperwork. Jacob is smart. So, HAH. Little good your “can’t comment on an ongoing investigation” schtick did.

And then the news that someone in law enforcement has been asking after Henry.

“Lizzie was waiting for you here tonight. You should talk to her, Walt. She seems to think she is in a relationship with you.” ....omgs. The tone. I mean, yes, the blisteringly glorious SASS, but how does one not read that as incredibly shippy? Howwwww?

“You are an honest man, Walt. I would like you to stay that way.” Oh Henry. When did you decide that you weren’t? Was it when you hired Hector? Or was there something before? ...I feel like there were things before that. Hello darkness my old friend.

“It is not your job to protect me.” “It is my job...” THOSE WERE THE DAYS. Those were the fucking daaaaaays. And the emotions on Henry’s face after Walt says, “That was my right,” as though Henry cheated him of something. I am so deep in OT3 feels I cannot even see daylight here. The feels of them having been an OT3 and then Walt pulling this shit, and Henry having to defend his own “right” to avenge Martha? It wrecks me. “A good woman was murdered. A bad man is dead. End of story.”

#Longmire #Walt Longmire #Cady Longmire #Henry Standing Bear #Branch is such a tool #Jacob Nighthorse #The Ferg #Victoria Moretti #Episode commentary #How many tangents did I manage to go on this time?#so many #Martha Longmire #I ramble about shots and framing and narrative too.#It took me so long to do this.#I am such a mess.

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wren-fell · 4 years ago

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Stuck In Borderland

Chapter 5: Begrudging Cooperation

To me all the Borderland games are a violent version of childhood games (tag, hide&seek, etc.) Soooo I went from there! Enjoy more interactions as this creeps towards a Chishiyaxoc story!

Thanks for reading!

I gave the militants names because I couldn’t find any listed. All canon characters belong to Haro Aso.

Warnings: language, weapons, mention of death

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Sayaka leaned against the wall with Kuina and Madoka, preparing for her own game tonight. She cast a glance over at Madoka. Her arms were wrapped around herself, and she had dark circles surrounding her eyes. Sayaka frowned, Madoka and her team came back late last night all covered in dirt from head to toe and very shaken up. The 5 of hearts… any of the games would have put them through hell, but a hearts game was both physically and emotionally exhausting.

“You don’t have to be down here with us Madoka,” Sayaka said with a smile, “we appreciate the support, but you can go rest.”

Madoka turned her head to look at her slowly and gave her a weak smile, “it’s okay I want to wish you two luck.”

Kuina smiled, “we appreciate it Madoka.”

Madoka nodded slowly and looked back to Hatter. Sayaka watched her nervously. Usually bubbly Madoka looked… defeated and broken. I hate this place...

“And let the games begin!” Cheers erupted from everyone in the lobby as they rushed towards the tables to get their assignments.

“That’s our cue,” Kuina said pushing herself off the wall.

“Okay, go get some rest Madoka,” Sayaka hugged Madoka who leaned into her embrace with a sigh.

“Yea, I will. See you when you get back.”

Sayaka hesitated, “yea. See you when we get back.”

They pulled apart and Madoka gave Sayaka a sleepy smile, hugged Kuina, and waved to them as she headed out of the lobby. Sayaka sighed as she watched her go with a deep frown on her face.

“You won’t make it through the night if you’re still thinking about her wellbeing instead of your own.” Sayaka turned around to see Chishiya standing there with his hood up and his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

She frowned and glared at him, “who asked you?”

“Just some advice. She made it through her game, now you make it through yours,” he said simply and walked into the crowd of people.

She huffed balling her hands into fists. He was so arrogant and selfish and… and… she squeezed her eyes shut, right. He was right… she needed to focus on herself right now, but that didn’t make her any less irritated with him.

“Hey, are you coming?” Kuina appeared in the crowd and pointed over her shoulder, “what happened?”

“Chishiya,” Sayaka grumbled in response, but walked past her towards the tables.

“Oh.”

Sayaka approached the table and was handed her folded number assignment. She turned to Kuina to compare, but frowned when she saw a 5 on her paper and a 3 on hers.

“Sucks…” she mumbled.

“I’ll see you when we get back though,” Kuina suggested.

“Right,” Sayaka sighed turning around.

“Sayaka!” She looked over her shoulder as Akiko pushed her way out of the crowd over to her.

“Akiko, hey,” Sayaka smiled.

“What group are you in?”

“5, you?”

“Oh, 7,” Akiko shrugged, “I’m with Kaoru and a couple of the other militants, so it’ll be fine,” she said with a smile, but Sayaka could see the uncertainty in her eyes as she tried to convince herself that was true.

“Right,” Sayaka nodded, “you’ll be fine I’m sure. You’re a really bright girl Akiko. Don’t let them shoot you down, okay?”

“Yea…” There was a long silence between the two of them, “I’ll see you after, you, Madoka, and I should grab a drink again,” Akiko smiled and turned to walk to the cars.

Sayaka smiled, “yea, that sounds fun. I’ll see you after,” she said with a wave. Akiko nodded and walked away leaving Sayaka standing alone.

She shook her head and smacked her cheeks, “focus.”

Walking out the front door Sayaka stretched her arms above her head, “let’s do this.” She turned her eyes to the car with the 5 spray painted on the side and immediately scowled. Her team for the evening consisted of 2 militants, a girl with long wavy black hair wearing a tactical vest over her bikini named Saiko, and a boy with short black hair and a frown named Kenji. As well as a random beach girl who looked like she was going to burst into tears at any second, and Chishiya. He smirked at her and waved as she walked down the front steps.

“Ugh, it’s like he planned this…” she muttered, in all actuality he totally could have he is an executive. She walked up to the car giving Chishiya a passing glare as she clambered into the backseat.

The girl who looked like she was about to cry sat down in the far window seat first and gave Sayaka a weak smile, “sorry, do you mind if I sit by the window? I get carsick.”

Sayaka stared at her for a second with a deep frown on her face, “fine,” she mumbled and plopped down in the center seat as Chishiya slid in beside her and slammed the door shut. All the militants in the cars whooped at each other like this was the beginning of some sports event, and revved the engines before peeling out of the parking lot.

The knuckles on Sayaka’s hands were white from gripping the seat beneath her trying not to be flung against either the young girl or Chishiya as they rounded the corners. The militants had brilliantly cut out all the seatbelts of the cars, citing that they “just got in the way”. In the way of what Sayaka really wasn’t sure, and honestly didn’t want to know. The car sped down the road slamming into a pothole going at least 70mph, and Kenji let out an excited scream. Sayaka dug her nails into the cracked fake red leather trying to keep her butt on the seat, while the girl beside her yelped and was slammed into the door. Meanwhile, Chishiya barely moved, and Sayaka glared at him from the corner of her eye. It was irritating how calm he was.

Kenji pulled the car up to the National Science and History Museum. All the spotlights were on in front of the building casting long shadows like ghosts waving them up the steps. Sayaka turned to the girl from the Beach waiting for her to get out, but she had folded into herself and was hyperventilating, “you have to play the game or you’ll die,” Sayaka pointed out causing the girl to wheeze and nod, but she didn’t move. Chishiya got out of the car on the other side and waved at the open door. Sayaka glared at him and stood up slamming her foot onto the seat and climbing out over the trunk glaring at him the whole time. He smirked, let out a breathy laugh, and started walking towards the entrance after the militants.

Sayaka frowned before turning her head to the young girl who was still sitting in the car shaking. You need to focus on yourself… she let out a long sigh and opened the car door holding a hand out to her, but I’m not completely heartless… yet. “Come on. My name’s Sayaka, we need to get inside.”

She turned to look up at her and wiped tears away from her eyes with a nod, and took Sayaka’s hand, “I’m Maiko.” They walked up the steps into the Museum the beep of the laser grid activating making Maiko jump.

“Just keep walking,” Sayaka said heading to the table at the center of the room to grab a phone.

“Facial recognition complete.

10 minutes until registration is complete.”

So far there was only the 5 of them from the beach and one other man who looked just as nervous as Maiko. Sayaka crossed her arms as she waited and dragged her eyes over the lobby. The museum back in the real world didn’t use many lights, and everything falling apart made it look even more dark and creepy. Skeletons of dinosaurs and whales were hanging unevenly from the ceiling like they were about to swoop down and snatch one of them up at any second. Stuffed taxidermy wild animals were decomposing and leaning at odd angles. The whole place was like a disintegrating cemetery beckoning them to all join the animals with this as their final resting place.

“Registration is now complete.

Game: Hopscotch, Difficulty: 3 of Clubs,” Sayaka watched the phone as the card flashed onto her screen.

“Rules:

Reach the finish line in the allotted time.

Time: 45 minutes.” Sayaka pouted, that was it? Reach the end? No other rules?

“Please proceed to the start, once all participants are inside the game will begin.” A door at the top of the stairwell lit up and they all turned their heads.

“Guess we’re going upstairs,” she muttered slipping the phone into the waistband on her shorts, and started for the stairs. They all trudged up and through the lit up door into a new room. Much like downstairs there were only exhibit spotlights that beamed down from the ceiling casting dark shadows around the completely empty room. Maiko was the last to enter the room, and the door slammed shut behind her making her jump.

“Your time starts now.” Another light lit up on the other side of the room showing a white circle drawn on the ground.

“Well that’s simple enough that’s the finish line!” The guy who had been alone in the museum when they arrived yelled, and started across the room.

“Hopscotch…” Sayaka muttered scanning the floor, her eyes widened, “wait stop!” She lunged forward grabbing the man by the back of his shirt and tossing him backwards as the floor gave out. Almost every square tile in the room fell away to the first floor below, all except ones that formed a hopscotch court across the room.

“Oh my god… I nearly died… thank you,” the man said shakily pushing himself up from the floor.

Sayaka rounded on him, “use you’re fucking head! It’ll never be that easy.”

He folded in on himself, and Sayaka saw Maiko take a step back. She turned her head back to analyze the tiles. Each was about three feet apart and there were varying patterns between being single tiles in a row and doubles, where you would use both feet was this normal hopscotch. In between was a 20 foot drop back down to the bones and decayed exhibits below. As she looked at the drop Sayaka’s vision swayed for a second and she took a step away from the edge digging her nails into her palms, just don’t look down.

“Well let’s get started,” Saiko said stepping forward her heels clicking against the tiles. She jumped forward onto the first solo tile and it lit up. Saiko looked down at her feet shocked, “is it going to explode?”

“I think if it was it already would have happened,” Kenji quipped stepping forward, “keep moving you bimbo.”

Saiko glared at him, but jumped to the next tile. Sayaka had to admit she was very agile even in 3 inch heels. The two of them kept jumping until they were 6 tiles in and paused.

“Hey, we can’t go any further!” Saiko called.

Sayaka frowned, “why not?”

“There’s a laser grid here.”

“What?” Sayaka stared at the tiles. This wasn’t like any hopscotch she had played, at what point did hopscotch have lasers?

“I’ll go next,” Maiko jumped forward onto the first tile, Sayaka watched her as she went. The first tile lit up, and so did the second, but when she landed on the double tile it stayed black.

“We all have to stand on the tiles for the laser to turn off and then we can advance,” Sayaka muttered and walked to the edge of the platform. Drawing in a deep breath she jumped after Maiko, just don’t look down. She landed on the other double tile, but nothing happened. Sayaka stomped her foot, “what the fuck.”

Maiko jumped forward onto the last single tile, and Sayaka pouted as it lit up the second Maiko’s feet touched it. She closed her eyes with a long sigh and jumped back one tile turning to Chishiya and the other player.

“We have to jump on it at the same time,” she said. Chishiya quirked an eyebrow at her and the smirk spread across his face.

Sayaka glared at him, but waved him on, “we have to do it together.”

He nodded and stepped forward pulling his headphones out of his ears and shoving them into his sweatshirt pocket. Sayaka sidestepped so she was standing on the edge of her tile making room for Chishiya to join her. He leapt forward onto her tile the closeness causing Sayaka to lean back and her heel to hang over the edge. She looked over her shoulder as she felt herself wobble uneasily, and stiffened when she felt Chishiya’s hands on her waist steadying her. Sayaka snapped her head forward to stare at him wide-eyed.

“Try not to lose your balance,” he smirked.

Sayaka’s eye twitched and she balled her hands into fists on his chest, “if my own survival didn’t depend on it I would push you off this platform.”

He didn’t reply just continued to smirk at her. With a sigh Sayaka turned her head to look at the double tile. If they had to land on it at the same time they would have to jump together, but the tiles were just barely over a foot wide. Groaning she looked back to Chishiya and held out her hand to him, “we have to jump at the same time.”

He nodded and took her hand. Slowly the two of them turned on the tile with each of them having one foot slipping off the edge. Sayaka drew in a deep breath and cast a glance at her hand in Chishiya’s. Why was this oddly comforting? She swallowed heavily, “on three.”

“One, two, three!” Both of their hands let go and they leapt off the platform. Their feet slammed onto the tiles at the same time and they lit up yellow.

“Oh thank god,” Sayaka breathed.

“The grid is gone!” Saiko said and continued forward.

The other player continued behind them, and they all moved forward until Saiko and Kenji came to the far set of double tiles. “So we have to jump together? Ew, I don’t want to hold your hand…” Saiko grumbled glaring at Kenji.

“There are 30 minutes remaining.” They all looked up as the voice rang out.

“Shut up and move over Saiko!” Kenji snapped and jumped forward to share the tile with Saiko. Despite their bickering they successfully made the jump to the double tiles.

“Let’s keep it moving!” Saiko ordered over her shoulder.

“God she’s bossy,” Sayaka grumbled.

Chishiya jumped onto the solo tile ahead of her and turned allow her room to join him. Sayaka tensed her muscles and jumped, but her foot slipped on the plastic of her flip-flop causing her foot to leave the platform a second too late. Her other foot hit the edge of the next tile a gasp escaping her lips as she started to fall backwards. Chishiya’s hand shot out grabbing her arm and pulling her forward onto the tile. Sayaka felt her cheeks heat up at how close they were.

“Thanks…”she muttered looking away from him her hands resting on his chest.

“The whole point of the game is to not fall,” he pointed out.

Sayaka glared at him, but didn’t say anything. She could feel herself shaking as her eyes darted back to the floor a long way below, and Chishiya’s hand shifted on her waist.

“Afraid of heights?” He asked quirking an eyebrow.

Sayaka looked up at him through her bangs, “it’s none of your business.”

“If you two are done flirting we want to finish this game!” Kenji called.

Sayaka felt her face heat up even more and she cast Kenji a dirty look, “okay,” she held her hand out to Chishiya who took it and they shifted to stand side by side, “on three. One, two, three!”

They landed together and the tiles lit up.

“That leaves one set to go! This is easy!” Kenji called as he jumped forward.

Sayaka frowned, “it’s like he’s asking for the game makers to throw a twist.”

There was just one more set of double tiles. Sayaka landed first and stepped aside for Chishiya to join her. He jumped forward landing hard and wobbling a little. Sayaka grabbed the sleeve of his sweatshirt to steady him and snorted, “you know you aren’t supposed to fall,” she mocked.

He gave her a sour look and stood up straight his hands resting on her waist again, “you’re one to talk. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Sayaka frowned she knew her cheeks were red and she desperately wished she could make the blood to drain from her face, “shut up. We have an extra player I could still push you off you know.”

“So could I.”

Sayaka watched his eyes. Always so cold and calculating she knew he would push her off if she got in the way, but why hadn’t he just let her fall before? There was one extra person in this game he could’ve teamed up with them.

“Are you ready to jump?” He asked snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Yea, yea I’m ready,” she said and he held his hand out for her. Sayaka took it slowly and turned on the platform.

“One, two, three!” Chishiya counted down and slipped his hand out of hers as they jumped off the platform. The tile lit up yellow and the final laser grid faded away leaving them a clear path to the winner’s circle. Saiko and Kenji were the first to jump and run into the circle their phones lighting up to congratulate them. Everyone else followed letting out a relieved sigh as the countdowns disappeared and their visas were displayed on the small screens.

“Congratulations all participants have been issued a 3 day visa.” Sayaka pulled the phone out of her waistband to stare at the screen before tossing it over the edge. It clattered to the graveyard below, and Sayaka glared at the still lit up screen shining in the darkness. It was like the makers were reading their minds before every game using their own fears against them.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here then!” Saiko called and was already stomping to the door. Sayaka looked over her shoulder to watch her and Kenji leave. Maiko and the solo player following, while Chishiya walked over to the pedestal in the center of the winner’s circle to pick up the 3 of clubs card.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, “something wrong?”

“Why didn’t you just let me fall?”

He raised his eyebrows at her and paused, analyzing her again making her feel small, “you were the lesser of two evils,” he said simply turning to leave. Pulling the hood back up over his white-blonde hair he walked out of the room leaving Sayaka alone to sigh.

“I should’ve expected that answer,” she mumbled and followed him out of the Museum.

Sayaka followed behind the rest of the group as they all walked into the lobby of the Beach. Kenji held up his pistol and let out a triumphant yell that was echoed back by the other militants in the room. Sayaka rolled her eyes; they were acting like all of this was fun.

Another group walked through the door and Sayaka turned to see who it was. She saw Kaoru and the rest of his squad and searched the crowd for Akiko, but froze when she didn’t see her. A lump started to form in her stomach and she sucked in her bottom lip. Balling her hands into the fists she glared at Kaoru as he threw an arm around a random beach girl.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Sayaka turned around as Chishiya walked up to her.

“I wasn’t.”

“That’s the face you made during the executive meeting before you snapped,” he pointed out. Sayaka felt her cheeks heating up again and turned to look at Kaoru as he whispered into the girl’s ear making her giggle.

“She’s dead, and he’s acting like she didn’t even matter…” She whispered.

“That’s because she didn’t.”

She swung her head around to glare at Chishiya, “how can you say she didn’t matter? She was the only reason I survived the 6 of diamonds. She deserved to live more than that waste of space!”

“She didn’t make it. There’s no point in being upset about it. She’s gone, she doesn’t matter now,” he said firmly giving her a hard look, “if you want to survive Sayaka you’re going to have to start letting go of the people who can’t make it on their own.”

She stared at him. That was the first time he’d said her name. It was like all of the blood in her veins froze solid, but there was a fluttering in her stomach that made her want to vomit. She drew in a long shaky breath and pushed the feeling in her stomach deep down, “then why didn’t you let me fall?”

Sayaka didn’t wait for him to answer and turned walking out of the lobby leaving him standing alone. A smirk curled his lips as Chishiya dropped his head letting out a breathy laugh, and put his headphones back in his ears.

#stuck in borderland #alice in borderland #Alice in borderland oc #chishiya x oc #I'm trying not to make these really long #but I have so many scenes and things I want to add #Now the real angsty stuff is coming up

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at-the-exd-of-everythixg · 4 years ago

Note

][All questions for otp meme for Sal + Rhys][

@blind-mutant

Coffee shop AU: Who is the barista, and who frequents the coffee shop?

Sal's at the coffee shop...what? Every night? It always feels a little different and a little bit the same each time. Sometimes Sal appears in suits and a slick charm while other times he's there in luxury dresses and patiently putting on makeup while Rhys rushes to get his over sweetened drink ready. Rhys never really says anything about the fact that Sal's lazy flirts make his stomach flip, or the fact that Sal usually calls him Moonie so sweetly.

And Sal's just as drawn to the pretty little drink maker, who always gives him extra whipped cream. How could he not want to flirt with the beautiful man? The one who smiled so sweetly whenever Sal got there and felt like the only person who seemed to really listen to him. Sweet drinks and sweet men are all Sal wants in life.

Highschool/College AU: Who is the straight-A student, and who’s the backrow slacker?

Sal doesn't exactly want to be a good grade student. It fucking sucks and the stress piles on more and more, but he knows that even failing for a moment would result in Giles yanking him away from other people and back to the same little house where he and his siblings would just be hurt more and more. It means everything to Sal to work hard, and it isn't like Rhys Brennan helps any.

What makes it worse? Rhys is...aware of it, in a way. He can hear the stress and pressure in Sal's voice and maybe he likes to flirt and tease the smaller man, just to have he pleasure of Sal snapping back and even occasionally when Sal joins him. He wants to know more about Sal, wants to know why he's so odd and so...not human. And Rhys has always, unashamedly, been drawn to secret and rude little men.

Rivals to loves AU: Who takes their rivalry seriously, and who is half in it just to push the other’s buttons?

Rhys came into Eden's Fruit, eager to impress and find his place at a workplace where he could be appreciated. And maybe Rhys does want to be the best, because the best always have the most trusted positions and the best always get assured of their worth. Instead, Rhys has Sal, who wishes to snark and play rivals, who thinks it's funny how much Rhys seems to care about being the best.

Its funny to tease and watch the taller man grow frustrated, funny as shit to flirt shamelessly while Rhys flushes and scowls. The other man doesn't seem to have that same sense of fun that Sal had beaten into him. Rhys just needs a good kiss and a shove off the highest balcony so Sal can rip that sense of terror away and not remember the fact that he shared it so strongly once.

Enemies to lovers AU: Which one switches sides?

Aspherane and Earth come to a clash and it's something everyone should have seen coming. Sal knows it's his part to leave Earth and go to the one place that won't one day kill him, just as Rhys knows that he should stay in Krakoa, the mystical island where everything should be safe and fine. Really, it's for the best that they stay apart and in their own separate world of shifting darkness and varied powers. The heavens and Earths were never really meant to mix.

So why do they still meet up? Like some sort of fucked up version of Romeo and Juliet in Sal's opinion, but it isn't like he can even think of not meeting up with Rhys in secret. Aspherane and Krakoa are meant to be their paradise and yet Sal won't ever stop thinking about simply meeting up with Rhys again and being able to kiss the other man. He considers trying to find a way to escape all of it, whether its beyond the stars or unde the Earth, where hell and demons reign strong.

Soulmate AU: Who is eager to meet their soulmate? Who absolutely does not want to meet their soulmate?

Rhys used to want to meet his soulmate. Key word used to. Years of being locked away shut down those thoughts. Better to not care about any soulmate than to hurt himself with facing someone who won't think he's good enough for them. It's a big difference from Sal, who looked over himself every day, hoping to find any mark or symptom of a Soulmate, to prove that he was human enough and to prove that maybe he was still good enough to at least have one.

And then he meets Rhys and the taller man us everything Sal wants, he bares the mark of the soul that can only mean he belongs to Sal, only...he's spoken before about how much he didn't want a soulmate. Rhys wanted Sal, not whoever was supposedly written up for him by fucking fate of all things and now they're both stuck in an awkard position really; Rhys wants Sal and doesn't want a supposed soulmate while Sal wants Rhys but now thinks the man he loves doesn't want him. They don't even deserve to be called himbos.

Single parent AU: Which one is the single parent? (Alt. if they’re both single parents: Which one is open to starting a new relationship from the start? Which one is never planning on finding love again… Until they meet the other and are instantly smitten?)

Sal is...more than aware of the fact that maybe he should have told Rhys about his child before inviting him to come live with him. But then again, why should he have to tell Rhys? If Moonie likes him so much, then Moonie can deal with his Starling. The rules are simple and it definitely helps keep a barrier up in case things go to shit.

Unfortunately, Sal didn't account for the fact that Rhys adores him enough to adore his Starling, the only other part Sal has that's enough like his own and how could Rhys resist wanting to protect someone just like Sal? Ugh, he became a dilf though emotions and Sal isn't happy about his newfound attraction for the fact that Rhys is the only one who can seemingly handle a half alien and a quarter alien child, but damn if he doesn't get buzzy when watching Rhys interact with the brat.

Doctor AU: Which one is the longsuffering doctor? Which one is the patient?

Rhys isn't...entirely sure what to make of the new patient in his institute, but Sal's angry scremaing and the way he quietly clings to Rhys at times means more to him than he would ever let on when trapped in such a dangerous place. Still, he tries to enjoy the brief moments he has between Blue and Sal while he can still get them.

And eventually they all get out. Blue dies and Rhys is grief torn and everyone leaves. Everyone except Sal, who was on his way to dying himself from the constant fluorescent lights. Rhys's constant darkness pulls him through though and now? Now Rhys is all he has and he saved him in more ways than one. Sal won't ever be Blue and that stings constantly, but the very least he could do is keep his feelings behind his teeth while doing what he can to keep him and Rhys alive.

Bodyguard AU: Who is the bodyguard? Who are they protecting? Which one is secretly pining for the other?

Rhys is...not entirely sure how to deal with the little brat he's been assigned to guarding. Sal is apparently some fancy alien...explorer? Ambassador? All Rhys knows it that Sal tends to use more than just his words to charm high assed men of Earth and never seems to fully realise the danger he puts himself in. It doesn't help the fact that Sal is...exceptionally cute and often expects Rhys to do certain customs that fluster him terribly and Sal has no idea why.

And really, what's so odd about asking your bodyguard to get in the bath with you? To help with your safety and self care? Sal knows that maybe it's a little odd, but how can he trust someone with his life if they haven't seen him when vulnerable? It's so dumb and that's exactly why he's fine of sleeping in the same bed as Rhys ans eating together. Not to mention that his bodyguard is....very fucking cute in his suits and the way his voice sounds rougher in the early mornings.

Pirate AU: Who is the pirate? Who is the member of the royal family who did not sign up for this?

I uh. Since were already doing this......Persephone and Hades au instead???

Rhys is....aware that his parents hated him, thought him to be evil and even he sees the irony of being a reborn Greek god of death when he's Irish. Getting out of the asylum was easier though and Rhys is grateful thay he cannot be held down as Kronos once did to him. Now Rhys travels looking for his reborn queen, whether she stays as she is or decides to be his husband or monarch of life.

And just as, Sal knows he was reborn oddly. Knows that flowers and Greek summers run through and that was enough for his Demeter to cast him out into the wild winters. Sal knows he should find his Hades, knows that a part of him aches for blooming spring and being able to kiss the person he loves primally. But Sal knows he bares the name from Maiden to Chaos Weaver and then it is his task to take, to perhaps hide from Hades and to save this reborn form of his husband from having to he stuck with him.

Then Rhys moves in and uh. Sal's kinda fucked, you know?

Childhood best friends AU: Which one was super obviously in love with the other the whole time? Who was oblivious until they were older?

How can Sal NOT be smitten with Rhys? The older boy is pretty and speaks funny and he always looks happy to see Sal, which is great because Sal likes his brother and sister, but he likes Rhys differently, like how Pap an' Mamné do. Rhys likes Sal too, but he doesn't ever seen to be aware of the way Sap clings to him and the manner of the kisses that get pressed to his cheeks, doesn't see the way Giles and his own parents narrow their eyes at it.

Then the institute happens and Sal's heart gets torn from him as Giles kicks him out. He's torn for years as he searches for Rhys and gets torn more when Cecil crushes and loves him sickly. By the time he finally meets Rhys...well, it's a big What If as to whether Rhys can truly stand someone whose been as ruined as he has, whose pale and scowls and flirts so horribly with anyone else but the reminder of his heart.

#ask #blind-mutant #headcanon #the living stardust (sal)#hope u don't mind me replacing the pirate one !#thought u deserved something fresh

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sceptilemasterr · 4 years ago

Text

Defenders of the Flame (TE Rewrite) Act 1, Scene 11 - The Girl in the Mirror

Title: Defenders of the Flame (A CIU Screenplay)

Main Pairings: Shreya x F!MC, Beckett x F!Atlas

Other Pairings: N/A

Genre: Full Rewrite (The Elementalists, Book 1)

Rating: PG-13 for violence, blood, swearing, alcohol, and sexuality

Summary: After a dark conversation, Fiora finally opens up to the others about the mysterious reflection she has been seeing.

Previous Scene: New Routine

Masterlist: Link

INT. FLETCHLY HALL - LOUNGE - NIGHT

The Pend Pals, now including Beckett, are gathered in the Fletchly Hall lounge for a study session. Beckett is sitting near a podium similar to the one Dr. Religast uses in her Stoicheal Theory class. A diagram of various stoicheal techniques and theories is displayed above it, which only Beckett himself seems to be paying attention to; his Grogue sits on the podium, trying to shoot down the display with his metal pebbles. Fiora and Shreya’s Lumians sit perched atop the ceiling light, sleeping contentedly, while their owners sit side-by-side on a couch, engaged in rapt conversation. Zeph lays on his back on the floor, playing one-handed catch with a sphere of water he had conjured as Ishi tries in vain to flash-freeze it with his breath. Griffin pages through a textbook on his lap, frowning at one particular page. His own companion, a Talpea (a cross between a mole and a rabbit) named MUGU, is trying and failing to dig through the carpet. Suddenly, one of Ishi’s ice blasts misses Zeph’s water sphere and hits Griffin’s leg.

GRIFFIN: Ow! Hey, what was that?

ZEPH: Sorry! That was Ishi. Ishi, no!

Ishi whines and walks away from Griffin. Shreya looks over at Griffin and Zeph.

SHREYA: Hey, be glad it was just ice and not fire. Our element is much stronger, I must say.

ZEPH: What, still sore about losing to me ten duels in a row this week?

SHREYA: Okay, that isn’t fair. Everyone knows water overpowers fire. You had the advantage!

ZEPH: Then why did you keep challenging me?

SHREYA: Because I wanted to win!

GRIFFIN: C’mon. All Attunements have their pros and cons. Don’t think there’s one that’s necessarily better than the others.

ZEPH: I dunno, maybe not in terms of power, but personality? Metal-Atts leave a lot to be desired.

BECKETT: I heard that, you know. Besides, I’m the only one here who has already thoroughly studied everything. Is anyone else going to use this study session to actually, well, study?

The others exchange glances.

SHREYA: Apparently not. Come on, Beckett, join us! That display isn’t going anywhere, after all.

BECKETT’S GROGUE: Croak!

FIORA: See? Even he agrees!

BECKETT: Hmm, very well. But only if you all promise to get through at least another two lectures’ worth of concepts by the end of the night.

ZEPH: It’s a deal.

Beckett takes a seat in an armchair near the others.

BECKETT: If we’re speaking of Attunements and personalities, such things have only minor effects on one another at best. True, certain personality types are more or less common among certain Attunements, but nothing is absolute.

ZEPH: I dunno, you and Dr. Rallah sure both seem to have the stiff, uptight, boring routine down pretty well--

Beckett’s Grogue lets out a loud croak and launches a stream of pellets right at Zeph’s forehead.

ZEPH: Ow! Hey!

The rest of the group dissolves into laughter. After a moment, Zeph joins in as well.

BECKETT: Frankly, even I will admit that her lecturing style leaves much to be desired.

SHREYA: Wow, this from you, of all people? I am shocked!

GRIFFIN: I mean, all the Earth-Atts I’ve ever met have been pretty friendly and outgoing, but that might just be because I only hang out with friendly people to begin with.

SHREYA (shrugs): Seems sensible enough to me.

FIORA: Okay, hang on... but what about the Wood-Atts? They don’t have a mean bone in their body. Every single one of them is a nature-loving, friendly, peaceful, hippie-type! Even Dr. Kontos!

The room suddenly goes quiet. Everyone except Fiora exchange uncomfortable glances with one another.

FIORA: ...What? It’s the truth! I mean, Shreya, you’ve met Aster, she’s so--

SHREYA (uncharacteristically serious): Not Aster. Someone... else.

Fiora scans the room. Everyone has serious, downcast expressions on their faces as they stare at her.

GRIFFIN (gently): Fiora... surely you’ve heard of... the Dread, right?

Fiora looks over at Shreya, realizing that this is something she should know, but doesn’t. Shreya gives her a subtle nod.

FIORA: I... uh, yes? But I don’t know much--

GRIFFIN: He was a Wood-Att.

Fiora continues to stare, puzzled, at Griffin. Zeph picks up the slack:

ZEPH: Fiora... the Dread was the worst mass-murdering criminal of the last century. He killed hundreds. Some even say thousands.

Fiora shudders.

FIORA: And... he was…

GRIFFIN: A Wood-Attuned. That’s right. Listen, Fiora... do you remember the Primal Force for Wood?

Fiora thinks for a moment.

FIORA (muttering): Light... Gravity... Motion… (louder) Oh! Life, isn’t it?

Beckett nods.

BECKETT: That’s right. And you can imagine why that particular Attunement would be so dangerous in the hands of someone such as the Dread.

GRIFFIN: You’ve noticed with your own fire, right? Attuneds can’t just create their element, but erase it as well. Now, imagine a murdering psychopath with that kind of power over life itself.

FIORA (uneasily): I can imagine. But how could a Wood-Att become that... that... horrible?

ZEPH: Exactly. Our Attunements don’t make us who we are. It’s our choices. And some people... well... choose awful things.

FIORA: I guess. But, I mean, he’s gone now, right? What happened to him?

The others all exchange another glance.

SHREYA: Honestly? No one really knows. I mean, he was obviously stopped, but as for how? No idea.

GRIFFIN: That’s right. Growing up, he was just a story our parents told us to scare us into doing what we were told. Y’know, “If you don’t eat your peas, the Dread will get you!” That kind of thing.

BECKETT: Ugh, please don’t remind me of that. It was my parents’ excuse for essentially everything.

FIORA (sarcastically): Sounds like amazing parenting right there.

BECKETT: Unfortunately, it was a very real possibility. The Dread--or, to use his real name, Raife Highmore--had a horrifying tendency to target children. No one knows why.

FIORA (terrified): O-kay, enough creepy murderer stories for me, thank you. This guy’s from forever ago, right? He’s gone now?

Zeph creeps closer to Fiora, and says in a mock-spooky voice:

ZEPH: Ah, Fiora, he’s gone for now. But one day, he shall return... and then, he will be out for BLOOD!

Zeph claps his hands in front of Fiora’s face, startling her. She shrieks and falls over, landing flat on her back on the ground. Zeph and Griffin laugh uproariously.

ZEPH: Wow, Fiora, you really fell for that one!

GRIFFIN: Nice one, Zeph!

He and Zeph high-five. Fiora frowns.

FIORA: Oh, ha ha, very funny. Look, I just…

As she looks around the room, desperate for a change in subject, her gaze alights on a mirror in one corner of the room. She flinches back in shock when she spots her silver-haired reflection looking back at her. Fiora rubs her eyes, and in the time it takes her to do so, the strange reflection is gone, replaced by her normal one.

FIORA: Hey, guys... does anyone see anything weird in that mirror there?

She points to the mirror. Everyone follows her gaze curiously.

SHREYA: Nothing but my lovely face, why?

GRIFFIN: I don’t see anything…

BECKETT: It’s simply a mirror.

ZEPH: What, did y’see something there?

FIORA: I mean... it’s gone now. But for a moment, I saw a weird version of myself. Basically the same, but with silver hair and a different expression. Is that normal? Have any of you seen something like that here?

Beckett frowns in puzzlement. He looks to Griffin, who shrugs.

GRIFFIN: Beats me. Weird reflection, you say?

FIORA: Exactly. A weird reflection. I even saw it in--

She stops herself when she realizes she was about to accidentally reveal her origins to the group.

FIORA: Uh, saw it in another mirror. Somewhere before I started at Penderghast... and then again, during the Test of Attunement. It... she... looked just like me, but wasn’t matching my expression or movements. And her hair was silvery.

She absently tugs on a few strands of her own red hair. Griffin frowns.

GRIFFIN: Can’t say I’ve heard of anything like that before. You’re sure you saw it, right? It couldn’t have been some kind of illusion?

Fiora shakes her head.

FIORA: Don’t think so. It sure looked real. You’re sure this isn’t some kind of normal thing that happens in this place?

SHREYA: I haven’t heard of anything like that, either.

Beckett abruptly stands up and starts walking back toward the projection in the corner.

BECKETT: You can continue discussing this phenomenon if you wish. I, however, shall begin my own research into this event. Perhaps I can uncover some insight during my ample free time.

ZEPH: Wait, “ample free time?” Since when? With all of our classes, we’ve got--

BECKETT: You mean to tell me you haven’t completed all of the assigned homework for the entire quarter yet? Nor read each and every textbook twice by now? Hmph.

Zeph visibly shrinks in his seat, embarrassed. Griffin rolls his eyes.

GRIFFIN: Seriously, Beckett? It’s not a competition.

BECKETT (genuinely confused): I did not mean it that way. I apologize. I only meant that, as I have plenty of time available to me, I am best suited to investigating this “strange reflection” that Fiora mentioned.

FIORA: Well, whatever the reason, thanks, Beckett. Hopefully you can find some explanation. It’s kinda creeping me out…

BECKETT (smiles): Naturally. Happy to assist, Fiora. Isn’t that part of friendship, after all?

FIORA: You’re right about that. Thanks!

Shreya yawns, stretching her arms out widely.

SHREYA: Well, I’m not sure about the rest of you, but... (yawns) ...je suis fatigue. Fiora, care to walk back to our room with me?

FIORA: Sounds like a plan, Shreya!

BECKETT: Wait! What about your promise? Two more lectures’ worth of concepts, do you recall?

SHREYA: Please, Beckett. A mademoiselle like myself needs her beauty rest, non? We shall review more of our lectures tomorrow. I promise!

Beckett starts to object, then sighs.

BECKETT: Very well. But I assure you, I will be holding you to it!

SHREYA: Of course you will. Goodnight, all of you!

FIORA: Night!

Everyone says their goodbyes. When it’s Zeph’s turn, however:

ZEPH: Have a romantic night, you two!

Shreya splutters with surprise as Fiora stares at him like a deer in headlights.

SHREYA: What-- what could that possibly-- I don’t-- excuse you--

FIORA (simultaneously): Wait a sec-- no-- we’re not-- hold on--

Zeph breaks down into laughter. After a moment, he stops laughing and simply looks at the two girls with a knowing smirk.

ZEPH: Have fun…

Shreya and Fiora look at each other awkwardly.

FIORA: Uh... right. I’ll just... go now.

SHREYA: Goodnight, Zeph.

The two of them leave the lounge. Zeph stares after them, then turns to look at Griffin.

ZEPH: Ah, young love... am I right, or am I right?

GRIFFIN (shrugs): Who knows?

_______________________

Scene Notes: At long last, we find out about the Dread in this version. Since all of the “super-Attunements” from canon were wrapped into the Primal Forces here, Blood became the Life Primal Attunement, thus making Raife a Wood-Att. Terrifying how the most kind and gentle Attunement can be twisted so far... but as Griffin said, it’s all about our Choices. (See what I did there...?)

Timeline: November 23rd! Still in the ES time jump.

_______________________

Next: Unexpected Saviors

CIU Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @endlesshero1122 @bbaba-yagaa @acidsugar0 @shaylan211 @griselda1121 @acanthisorbis @marmolady

DotF/Elementalists Tag List:

#defenders of the flame #datf #the elementalists rewrite #choices the elementalists #choices stories you play #csyp #fanfic #ciu project #choices interconnected universe #fiora luxen #shreya mistry #beckett harrington #zeph hernandez #griffin langley #raife highmore #shreya x mc #wlw #i just realized grogue is one letter off from grogu #idk what that means but it amuses me

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purplesurveys · 5 years ago

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561

You struggle to walk in heels. Nah, I love heels. Even if a certain pair is a bitch to wear, I’d try to power through and I’d wanna look like I’m killing it wearing them. You talk on the phone a lot. Yes, but with just Gab. We call each other up most days. You consider yourself to be pretty extroverted. I can be! Getting to college definitely taught me how to like talking to people more and I have no problem with initiating conversations or doing small talk these days. I’d consider myself like 90% extroverted; the remaining 10% is for those times I still prefer to have all to myself, which is a part of me I know I’ll never lose. You know how to sew. Nah, home ec lessons can fuck right off. I’ll leave the sewing and crocheting skills to my girlfriend. You know how to play a woodwind instrument. Does the recorder count? I mean I think almost everyone can play it as it’s a super basic instrument, but still.

You swear a lot. It’s a habit. I do choose the people I swear around though; I wouldn’t do it in front of kids or with people I’m not necessarily close with. You're a smoker. I vape. You're allergic to penicillin. I dunno. I’ve never been exposed to it, I think. Someone in your immediate family is in a wheelchair. No, no one from my extended family either. You play a lot of video games. I watch a lot of playthroughs, but I don’t play them myself because I am just terrible at them. You've never been on a train. I’ve been on a train once, and it was for an assignment and someone was with me the whole time. It was at a dead hour too, so I didn’t really get the full experience of riding a train in the Philippines. You don't like raisins. I HATE RAISINS You're not a very romantic person. I’m very conscious about PDA but I can be affectionate in many other ways. You're homosexual or bisexual. Am neither. There was one point I believed I was bi, but in the end it all boiled down to me being demisexual. Beer is your alcoholic beverage of choice. Fuuuuuuuuuuuck beer, and I’ll never get tired of saying that. Your favourite colour to wear is red. I look good in red but it’s not really my favorite color to wear. You've talked someone out of suicide. No. I wouldn’t want to be put in that situation either; not because I wouldn’t want to help, but because I’m unfit myself and I wouldn’t know if the things I would say would be helpful or just do more harm. You wear a ring on your left ring finger. I don’t. Yet. You've never had detention in school. But this is because we never adopted that concept here. Like I said, I’ve never fully grasped what detention is and what they make you do when you’re in it. Maybe someone can help a clueless Asian out here, haha. You've dated someone with a full beard. I’ve never been with a guy, and Gab doesn’t grow a beard. You have a pair of fluffy dice in your car. No, and wouldn’t want that decoration either. You've been tested for STIs. No, but I definitely should just to be sure. You've written someone a love letter. Once, three years ago. I really should do it more. Your favourite film genre is horror. I appreciate horror A LOT and at one point it was my favorite genre. It’s since been overruled by drama. You currently live in a country you weren't born in. Born, raised, and currently living in the Philippines. You don't like wearing hats. I know they’d look cute on me but it makes me feel like people can’t see me, so I always unconsciously take them off because they feel weird. Your blood type is O+. (???) Dude, I have no idea what my blood type is. I don’t think my parents are sure either. You prefer fruits over vegetables. Nah nah nah I hate fruits. You work/have worked in a hotel. No. My parents have worked in hotels all their lives though; they met while working in the same one in the 1990s. My dad has worked in a cruise ship since the 2000s but that still technically counts as a hotel-centric workplace. You enter the lottery regularly. I never have. You have a boyfriend or girlfriend. A girlfriend. You have had sex within the last week. I mean...this is one entry I don’t need to delve more into haha. You get sick often. I never get sick and if I do the fever typically just lasts a few hours. You're close with your siblings. I’m close with my sister. I haven’t talked to my brother in months. You're a pretty paranoid kind of person. It’s part anxiety and part slightly inheriting my mother’s very real OCD problems. You prefer vanilla over chocolate. Mmmmm not really. Vanilla takes like nothing to me D: Idk if it’s meant to taste like that or if I’ve just had cheap vanilla all my life. You own a lava lamp. I don’t but I had a hipster phase when I was like 12 where a lava lamp was all I wanted. Obviously my mom never got me one cos it seemed like such a waste of money, and looking back on it nine years later, it most definitely would have been. You can't whistle. I can. You've had your stomach pumped. No. I don’t even know how that works and I hope I never need that procedure, cos it sounds complicated and terrifying. You don't use emojis when you text. I know most people get paranoid from emoji-less messages, so I kinda just do my part in making them feel better by using emojis. You remember seeing the events of 9/11 on television as it happened. I was too young to have memories from 9/11; I was three and didn’t really watch news back then. You always stay hydrated. Yesssssss. I love my water and it’s also a basic form of skincare, so. You have at least one child. No kids. Your hair is shorter than shoulder length. It’s longer than that now, but I really should give it a trim soon. You're at least 21 years old. Yay I can finally answer this with a yes! You're an opinionated person and stick to your guns no matter what. Yes, unless someone can show me a better and more critical argument. I’m open to hearing them out and reconsidering by then; but until then, I like sticking to my beliefs. You share a bed with someone else every night. I sleep alone. You know how to drive. It’s how I get around places. You're currently wearing an article of clothing that doesn't belong to you. The sweater I have on belongs to Gab, but it’s been with me for three years. You are friends with a lot of people you work with. It makes the work more enjoyable when you like the people you hang out with. :) You shower twice or more each day. It’s a no for me. Once would be enough. You're friends with your boss. JM is technically my boss, and we’re good friends. You've made your own clothes before. Never have; I’m not creative enough (or at all) for that. You have/had braces. I did, back in high school. I just had them for a year and a half. You have two or more ex partners. Nope, just the one. You have a biblical middle name. I’m sure Isabelle didn’t come from the Bible. You've cheated on someone. N e v e r. You mop/vacuum the floors in your house once a week. My mom prefers to do all the cleaning stuff around the house. You have dandruff. There’s really nothing I can say about this other than I don’t, lol. Your parents are religious people. My mom is massively religious, enough to drive me insane. I don’t get my dad though; he told me he was atheist when he was in college, he sympathizes with me whenever I grumble about our family going to mass every Sunday, and he doesn’t mind when I use my phone in church, but sometimes I’ll see him singing along to church hymns. I don’t pry though and I’m just glad he’s on my side whenever I bitch about having to sit in church for an hour. You work/have worked in fast food. I have not tried this. You live near a national park. I live very far from Luneta, which is I think the only national park we have. You're a flirty kind of person. As a demisexual, the idea of being flirty is a horrifying prospect to me. You've never dyed your hair. It would terrify my mom, plus I’m about to graduate college so it’s a little too late to experiment with hair dye now. You've been to Arizona. I have not. You listen to a lot of country music. I hate this genre. You listen to a lot of pop music. Yeah I’m a pretty basic bitch lol You exercise several times a week. Just for this semester because I’m taking PE. In fairness, our instructor is a very good coach so I’m pretty open to still continue doing the workouts once the sem ends. You can do at least 10 pull-ups. I couldn’t before, but my PE class taught me how to haha. You travel primarily by bus. I can drive, so I don’t really need to take the bus. You prefer hot weather over cold weather. Ugh noooooo I hate feeling hot. I’d rather feel uncomfortably cold all year round than uncomfortably hot and sweaty. You've never been to IKEA. We don’t have IKEA. You're more creative than you are logical. I have zero creativity in my system. You've been in trouble with the police. Not with the police per se but I’ve had traffic enforcers pull me over for various ‘violations.’ You have something more important to be doing right now. It’s 1:42 AM. That important thing I should be doing right now is sleeping, but I had coffee earlier and don’t really feel like doing that at the moment.

You share a lot of your looks/appearance with your siblings. I’m the feminine version of my brother. I’m not sure if I look anything like my sister though. You've been in an open relationship. No. And I’ll never entertain the thought. You had beef for dinner last night. I’ve skipped dinner for two nights in a row, because my toothaches are really bad :( You live with roommates. I live with my immediate family. I live fairly close to my school (close enough to be able to drive there, anyway), so I’ve never had to move into a dorm or condo. You drink alcohol at least once a week. I drink a lot whenever I get to but I only do it once a month or once every two months. You have to go to work tomorrow. Nope. It’ll be the 3rd day of my 5-day weekend, so I’ve still got a lot of time to rest up :) You have taken acting classes. Acting is so not my forte. Your favourite kind of juice is cranberry. I don’t really like juice. You lost your virginity at the age of 16. 18. You're close with your cousins. I’m close with my cousins on my mom’s side. Not so much on my dad’s, but I did play a lot with them growing up; we just became less close as we got older because they eventually moved to Laguna and I saw them less and less. You have family who live in England. I don’t think I have family living in Europe. You've had a blood test. When I was confined in the hospital when I was 11, they did several blood tests on me to check my platelet count. You know someone who has two parents of the same sex. Nah, there’s a small chance of that happening here. I wish I knew someone, though.

You know how to do karate. I never took lessons. You've never had a pet dog. I have one snoring under my bed right now. Your current partner if you have one is your college/high school sweetheart. It’s a corny term, but yeah you can call her that. You have a cool scar. (?) I’m not sure almost being blinded by a glass jar to the eye is a cool scar story to tell. You've considered joining your country's army. No. You live near a very large body of water such as the ocean or a lake. Mmm not really, I live in a very urbanized area. I’ve never experienced living close to the sea, but I imagine it would be very peaceful. You watch and follow motorsports. Never have. Your mother was under the age of 20 when she was pregnant with you. Nope, she was 26. You're allergic to some kind of vegetable. I don’t have any allergies. You hate wearing socks to bed. Yessss, it feels itchy and it feels like my skin is being suffocated hahaha so I take them off. You play a lot of board games. Nothing against board games, I just don’t play them a lot. You know someone personally who was born in Japan. That’s a good possibility, but I just wouldn’t know who. You always keep spare change handy. In a place like UP where everything is cheaper, it helps tons to keep some change. Your house has three or more bedrooms. We have four bedrooms. You weigh less than you want to weigh. I’m a little less than 100 lbs, but I do wish I was at a healthier weight because I’m underweight.

You prefer tampons over pads (if you're a female who menstruates). I’ve never tried tampons and the idea of wearing it sounds like such a horrifying prospect for me hahaha. For context, pads are the (very very dominant) norm here and I literally know 0 menstruating people who use tampons. You've had sex while menstruating or had sex with someone while they were. I’m obviously not gonna share the story on here lol but it was purely an accident and I’ve made sure it never happened again. Your parents live in a different country than you. My dad has worked in different countries my whole life, but he comes back home every few months. You've been banned from a store or other location/venue. My friends and I were kicked out of a McDonald’s once for making a lot of noise, but we weren’t banned. You like to cook with a crockpot/slow cooker. I don’t cook. You have a clock radio in your bedroom. The only clocks I have are the ones on my laptop and phone.

#survey #surveys

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comicgeekscomicgeek · 5 years ago

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Their Hero Academia – Chapter 24: Akaya Koda and Class 1-B

The latest raw and unedited chapter of my ongoing, next gen, My Hero Academia fan fic. You get to see it here first, before it goes up on AO3 and FF.net!

Chapters 0-23, plus the first interlude, can be found here

Their Hero Academia – Chapter 24: Akaya Koda and Class 1-B

Akaya Koda strolled across the U.A. campus, enjoying the mid-April sunshine. She wore a yellow sundress and a wide-brimmed hat, along with a pair of sandals. After an exhausting week, she was glad for the weekend. Rescue training at the USJ had been intense, even without the faux Villain attack on Thursday.

At the same time though, it had been fulfilling work, and work that her Quirk was well suited too. With her power to rapidly grow and control plant life (She disliked the term “controlled,” though. She preferred to believe she was seeking their aid), she could shore up other structures, form ropes from vines, and even rapidly grow food when necessary. She disliked violence, always preferring to restrain rather than injure, something else her Quirk excelled at. Perhaps that was the best path for her to take. It would take long and careful thought and prayer before she could come to any truly satisfactory conclusion.

Her destination today, though, was the community garden. It had been established a few years ago at U.A. and was primarily tended to by students with an interesting in growing things, though some teachers would assign work there as detention duty. It wasn’t especially large, but it did provide a measure of additional fresh fruits and vegetables to the dorms so that less had to be spent on groceries. Akaya enjoyed it immensely.

As she approached the garden, she saw that several of her friends were already there. Kentaro Fukui of Class 1-B gave her a friendly smile and wave. At nearly three meters tall and more than a meter wide, his Quirk, Large, made him a formidable sight. But his features overall were not monstrous, with short cropped dark hair and cool grey eyes, he was simply… Large. It wasn’t often that Akaya met someone who was bigger than she was, other than her own father, along with Shoji and his father. She gave him a friend wave in return.

“Good morning, Fukui,” she said. “I trust you’re well?”

He nodded. “Very well, thanks,” he said. For his size, his voice was surprisingly high pitched.

“Did you enjoy the USJ?” she asked.

“Eh…” Fukui rubbed the back of his head with an oversized hand. “I’m not really cut out for Rescue work. I’m okay at heavy lifting, but I’m more likely to bring something down.”

Akaya nodded. “We all have our callings we are meant to attend. I am certain you will find yours.”

“Akaya!” a buzzing voice called out. Chiasa Kamakiri of Class 1B looked much like her father, Togaru Kamakiri, with a head something like a praying mantis and yellowgreen skin. Her dark green hair, though, came from her mother, Setsuna Tokage. Her Quirk, Swarm, allowed her to split into a swarm of smaller versions of herself linked by a hive mind and reform. “You‘re late!” She wagged a finger teasingly.

Akaya gave her a chagrinned smile. “My apologies, Chiasa. I am afraid I had to help defuse a situation in the dorm this morning before I could leave.”

“What happened?”

“Kenta, Ojiro, and Sero upset Aoyama,” she explained. “They were filming something—I am truthfully not certain of the details—and it ended with Aoyama setting his shirt on fire. He was understandably quite upset and became rather threatening towards them. Fortunately, Tokoyami and I were able to calm them all down… but it was likely it would have escalated into violence. We found the three of them trying to avoid him by hanging from the ceiling by Sero’s tape.”

Chiasa laughed at that, clicking her mandibles together rapidly. “Your morning sounds more exciting than ours. Though I think Monoma’s up to something. He was watching Kana, Midoriya, and Kirishima-Bakugo through binoculars when they returned from their morning run.”

Akaya frowned at that. Shiro Monoma did tend to let the supposed “rivalry” between the classes get the better of him. She counted Shiro as a friend, but there were times where he could cause trouble for everyone. And he did seem to have a particular itch for getting Kirishima-Bakugo riled up. “I shall let them know.”

It was better to be forewarned and forearmed. Especially since it would likely prevent Kirishima-Bakugo from trying to kill him.

“I don’t know what his problem is,” Fukui said. “But I do know Tetsutetsu hitting him all the time like that can’t be good for him.”

“He deserves it,” Chiasa said. “He just wants to stir things up for no reason.”

Akaya was much less certain of the “no reason” part than Chiasa was, and even less so of the “deserves it” part. Granted, she did not live with him as she did, but she also considered herself to be closer to him than most. They had gone to the same middle school and junior high. Shiro simply wished to succeed, something that was an uphill battle with his Quirk. His Quirk to imitate the actions of others—she knew he had poured over countless hours of videotape of Heroes like Eraserhead and Gunhead—was formidable under the right circumstances, but she also knew most wrote it off as inconsequential compared to flashier Quirks. Some of their old classmates certainly had.

History repeating itself. Shiro had often mentioned his father had suffered similarly. None of which was hers to reveal.

“We must all make our own way in the world,” she said instead. “Some of our paths are simply stormier and more turbulent than others. He shows great loyalty to your class and wants you all to succeed.”

That got another laugh from Chiasa. “Dunno how you stay so calm all the time, Akaya,” she said. “Especially with the crazies you live with. Especially Mineta.”

“It… can be trying,” Akaya admitted. Her classmates and friends were good people. But they each carried their own baggage and their own eccentricities. “Faith helps.”

“What’s a Mineta?” Fukui asked, looking a bit befuddled.

“Someone you’ll meet soon enough, I’m sure,” Chiasa said. “When you do, you’ll know.”

***

The gardening was simple, but not easy work. There were plants to water, plant food to spread, weeds to pull, insects and other pests to send on their way, and even a certain amount of harvest to reap. The three of them had been joined by Shikha Mizuno, from Class 1-C, a doe-eyed young woman with pointed ears and large antlers growing out from her head. Her Quirk, Antlers, let her grow hers rapidly in varying lengths and shapes, even using them like a second set of limbs.

“It’s hard to believe so many of the Hero students this year are second gen or more,” Mizuno was saying, as she worked on weeding from around the vegetables. “Nobody in my class is. Kind of makes us all feel a little inadequate. You guys all must have a big leg up.”

Akaya nodded. “To some extent. Our parents had much advice and training to offer us, but at the end of the day, there is only so much they could offer compared to this school. You will make up whatever gulf there is in time.” It was true, however, that nearly all of the students in Class 1-A were the children of the infamous Class 1-A, and many of the students in Class 1-B were likely the children of their contemporaries. Class 1-C, by contrast, had no second generation of greater Hero students to it.

“Besides,” Fukui added, “not all of us in 1-B are second gen either. And 1-A’s got one, right, Koda?”

She nodded again. “Haimawari. He is quite skilled, though.” And would be more so if he could shed the nervousness that dominated most of his actions. “But I expect you too, will have your chance to shine, Mizuno. Good things come to those who wait.”

Mizuno frowned. “I guess,” she said. “Wish I had your certainty.”

“Get outta here, you!” a tiny voice rang out. Akaya looked down to see a dozen tiny Chiasa’s (somehow all wearing tiny versions of her clothes, she couldn’t begin to understand how that worked), chasing a slug from the garden. They corned the creature and lifted, running until they had carried it outside the garden’s boundary. Satisfied, they returned to Chiasa, where they vanished and reformed into the fingers of her left hand.

Chiasa gave her fingers an experimental wiggle, then made a disgusted face. “Ugh, slime. Anybody got a towel?”

Fukui passed her own and received a nod of thanks. “That the last of it?” he asked.

“Enough before lunch, at least,” Akaya said. “I think we’ve a bit more to do before we’re done.”

“Be easier if you just made everything grow, though,” Fukui added.

She shook her head. “I try to only use my Quirk when necessary. I may stray at times, but this garden is meant to be enjoyed by everyone and I would not deprive them of that, nor alter the flow of nature on so large a scale.”

Chiasa laughed at that. “I think you just like hard work,” she said.

Akaya simply gave her a smile. “I do at that.”

***

They decided to go to the Class 1-B dorm for lunch, since Chiasa had mentioned they had a lot of leftovers from the previous night. Their Common Room followed much the same layout as Class 1-A’s, albeit flipped so that everything was on the opposite side. Told to help themselves to whatever was in the fridge, Akaya had fixed herself a small salad and sat down with the others to eat. They’d also been joined by more of her Class 1-B friends, the shadow-skinned Chizue Kuroiro, dark daughter of Shihai Kuroiro and Reiko Yanagi, whose Quirk “Life” let her bring any drawing to life and thus always carried Tarot Cards; and Hekima Kodai, a quiet young man with pale blue hair, who was the son of Yui Kodai and her husband, who had taken her last name, who had an expanded version of his mother’s Quirk and could both shrink and grow organic and inorganic objects, and Kana Tetsutetsu.

She also spotted Shiro Monoma walking across the Common Room to the stairs. He seemed to be muttering to himself. “Yes, that should do it. The perfect time, the perfect place, she’ll never know it was me…”

“Join us, Shiro?” she offered. His words concerned her. Perhaps she could intervene and prevent unnecessary hardship. She was not quite as good as, say, Asuka Tokoyami or Izumi Todoroki (though Todoroki’s skills only really seemed to apply to Kirishima-Bakugo) at defusing conflicts, but Shiro was an old friend and would usually listen to her.

He stopped and shook his head. “I am afraid I have too much to do today, Akaya,” he said.

“Surely you have time for a brief respite?” she asked, firmly, but not harshly.

He seemed to weigh his options, sighed, and grabbed himself food from the fridge before sitting down with the rest of them. She waited for him to have a few bites before she spoke again. “Chiasa tells me you were spying on my classmates,” she said. “Not heroic behavior at all. I would know why.”

Akaya was not, by nature, a confrontational person. But neither would she see trouble come after her classmates and friends, especially from someone she also considered a friend.

“What?” Kana spat, more annoyed and exasperated than surprised. “Do I have to go upside your head again, Shiro?”

“You raise an ill omen over us all,” Chizue said, while Hekima just shook his head.

Shiro shot Chiasa a betrayed look, but she was having none of it. “You were spying on them, Monoma,” she said. “You had binoculars and everything.”

Shiro turned a shade of pale. “It’s… you see… I don’t have to explain myself to any of you!”

Fukui fixed his gaze upon Shiro. “You’re not being a perv, are you, Monoma?”

“What? No!”

“Then what?” Akaya prompted.

Shiro looked away, guiltily. “I would really rather not discuss this.”

“Should I… should I go?” Mizuno asked. Her antlers were drooping slightly and the Class 1-C girl looked distinctly uncomfortable at all discussion going back and forth.

“I do not believe that will be necessary,” Akaya said. “Shiro, do I have your promise this is not some scheme to make Midoriya or Kirishima-Bakugo look bad or otherwise try to prove your class’s superiority by undermining mine?”

In spite of everyone’s eyes being on him, Shiro managed to look her in the eye. “I promise you it is nothing negative,” he said. “In this particular instance, anyway. What some of your classmates do to embarrass your class is not under my control.”

That was, Akaya was forced to admit, probably as good an answer as she was going to get. “I will hold you to that,” she said. “And I will be very cross if you break that promise.”

“Ooooh,” Chiasa teased, “don’t make Akaya cross, Monoma! She might say things like “darn” and “shoot” and “fiddlesticks!’”

That got a laugh from everyone except for Mizuno and Fukui. Kana’s was a pleasant sound, a full on laugh that had her holding her stomach. Chiasa’s was a clacking, buzzing, sound, while Chizue’s was more of a reserved chuckle hidden behind her hand. Hekima was giggling and even Monoma was trying not to laugh at failing. Akaya accepted it good naturedly. She was not an angry person and rarely raised her voice, so she did not begrudge the joke at her expense. No harm was meant, after all.

“I might even venture so far as a “dang,’” she added, which only got a further laugh, especially from Chiasa, who nearly doubled over with laughter.

Kana finally recovered from her laughing. “Don’t worry,” she said. “If he doesn’t behave himself, you can count on me to give him a good smack.”

Shiro looked offended by that. “You’ve really got to stop doing that!”

She fired back. “When you stop doing creepy or annoying stuff, I will!”

Akaya held up her hands. “Please, no fighting while we are eating.”

Both muttered their apologies, and Kana switched lines of thought. “Speaking of your class, Akaya,” she said, “you know the new kid in your class?”

“Haimawari?”

Kana nodded. “Yeah, him. Midoriya’s mentioned him a few times, though Katsumi usually rolls her eyes. I saw him during the entrance exam and he was really impressive!”

“What about him?” Akaya asked.

Kana looked away, being surprisingly shy for a moment before she looked back. “Is he seeing anyone?”

Well, that was certainly not the question she was expecting. And judging from some of the reactions from the others, neither was anyone else.

“OooOoh,” Chiasa teased. “Kana’s got a cruuush.”

“I wouldn’t have picked you for the crushing type,” Chizue said. “Not that kind of crushing, anyway.” Next to her, Fukui made a kissy-face.

Hekima blinked slowly. “I have no idea who that is.”

Monoma just shook his head. “He’s not exactly a heroic dynasty, Kana. You could do better.”

Mizuno perked up, antlers waving rapidly in the air. “Oh! I know him! My family shops at his family’s convenience store! We went to school together before U.A.! He’s kind of a dork, but he’s a really nice guy!”

That tracked with Akaya’s assessment of Haimawari as well. More importantly, neither Todoroki not Midoriya would be friends with someone who was unpleasant or dishonorable, so that further honed her assessment of him.

“As far as I know,” Akaya replied, “he does not. But I cannot claim to have spoken to him for any great length of time, so my knowledge is incomplete. Midoriya, Tokoyami, or Todoroki would be better people to ask.” Shota Shinso, of course, also spent time with them, but he was not especially observant about anything that did not involve Heroes.

Kana put her head on the tabletop. “If I ask Midoriya, Katsumi’s going to find out and she’ll never let me here the end of it.”

“You don’t think she’ll find out anyway?” Shiro asked. “From what I understand of Class 1-A, the second anything vaguely romantic happens, it makes an appearance in the Ojiro girl’s gossip show.”

Mizuno clapped her hands together. “Oh, I love that show! And the other one she’s in sometimes, with the guy who eats stuff!”

Fukui grinned. “Ooooh, I love that one too! The pink guy is super cute! I can’t believe he already has a boyfriend!”

Akaya was not without passions of her own and had harbored many a childhood crush over the years, but the hurriedness of some of her friends and classmates to leap into relationships still often surprised her. Some of them more than others, of course. Mika Mineta let her passions rule her to the point of overriding her reason. On the other hand, she also tried very hard not to judge the actions of others. She had not walked in their shoes nor lived their lives. So she would not dissuade Kana from her path, nor any of the others.

“Iida and Sero seem very happy together so far,” she told Fukui. “But how long this may last, would not begin to speculate.”

“So you’re saying I might have a chance?”

“It is not my place to say.”

The large young man just shook his head. “You guys have known her longer. Is she always this cryptic?”

“I wouldn’t say cryptic,” Chiasa said. “Chizue’s cryptic. Akaya just doesn’t like to make snap judgements.”

“What about you, Akaya?” Chiasa asked, mischief in her eyes. “You crushing on anyone?”

“None at present,” she said, then held up a hand to forestall any follow-up questions that she knew were coming. “My last major crush was when I was thirteen, on Tensei Iida. I can see now such would have been folly anyway, so there is no harm in not having acted upon it.”

“Ooof,” Chiasa said. “Too bad.”

Akaya gave a little shrug. Some things were simply not meant to be. They were in charge of their own destinies, but in some cases, there were simply paths they were not meant to follow.

Kana resumed pounding her head on the table. “What am I gonna do?”

“If you like him,” Akaya said, “then may I suggest boldness? It seems to have worked well for Sora Iida in beginning a relationship with Midoriya.”

“Maybe,” Kana said.

“As much as it pains me to suggest anything that might benefit someone in Class 1-A,” Shiro said, “Akaya’s right. You’re too bold and tough not to just step up to the plate.”

Kana nodded, seemingly satisfied with that. “All right then. I’ll give it a shot.”

***

Later, Akaya returned to the 1-A dorm, satisfied in a long day of hard work. They’d gotten a lot accomplished in the Community Garden and she was able to bring back a basket full of fresh vegetables with her. They’d be able to make good use of these over the next few days.

She wondered how much she should tell her classmates. Part of her wanted to warn Midoriya and Kirishima-Bakugo that Shiro was watching them, but she also had his promise that he meant no harm. She could, at least, respect Kana’s privacy to approach Haimawari on her own terms, but the other bothered her. She did not like keeping secrets. Shiro had not asked her to keep it a secret, but to draw Kirishima-Bakugo’s attention to him was absolutely to put him at risk. Kirishima-Bakugo’s explosive temper was legendary enough as it was without adding more fuel to the fire.

Ultimately… if they asked, she would not lie. But she supposed she did not have to volunteer that information either. It was a lie of omission, but she felt she could live with it.

As she settled back into her dorm room, she felt her phone buzz with a text message.

Carefully, she withdrew her oversized phone, meant to fit easily in the palm of her oversized hand. She unclipped the stylus (most capacitive screens did not work well with her rocky skin) to see who it was. It turned out to be from Shiro.

The text simply said, “See? No harm meant” and was followed by a photo attachment. Curious, she tapped the attachment with her stylus to open it. The attachment opened, revealing a rather intricately crafted origami crane situated in the middle of what appeared to be an origami explosion. She knew Shiro regularly studied various artists and crafters in order to acquire additional skills, but it was impressive work all the same. More so when she recognized what had to be little original flourishes he had added, since his Quirk relied upon imitation.

This, however, just raised further questions. Spying and origami did not typically go together. Just what was Shiro up to? Few explanations presented themselves and the ones that did were too mind boggling to consider for long.

Carefully, she texted back. I am going out on a limb by trusting you. Do not betray that.

Do not worry, Shiro texted. All will be well.

She could only pray that it would be.

Sero and Iida, Miroriya and the other Iida, Kana and Haimawari, and now whatever was going on here… Perhaps it was time she began to consider what she wanted, before it was too late.

#their hero academia #my hero academia #fan fic #fan fiction #my writing #akaya koda

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lalala1145 · 6 years ago

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IBVS and Dreamswap crossover Version 2(?)

Both IBVS fic and Dreamswap AU by the frick-frack-patty-wackin’ awesome @onebizarrekai (They’re both wonderful Alternate Multiverses based on a few of the outcode Sanses)

I like Anon Izzy’s crossover idea, and since you said that it probably would’ve been more violent, I made my own interpretation on what would happen if the crossover happened.

This is my first fanfic, so I’m really bad at characterization and usage of good words. Whatever – I like your stories so here ya go

Out of conveniency, the IBVS characters will be called their actual names instead of their nicknames :P

——————————————————

Chris tapped his finger on the driving wheel to the Super Smash theme song.

“Yeah, do you have any teachers like that?” Nevin said, in the middle of a normal after-school conversation with Chris.

Chris responded, “Well, there’s this one teacher that’s obsessed with plagiarism or something. This one guy in Isaac’s group copied something from an article, so today the whole group was forced to stay after school and do extra work. But seriously, it was only one- HOLY SH*T!” Chris slammed the brakes, reeling the two boys forward.

Nevin glared at the sky and spurted out, “What is that?!” There was a huge, pulsating tear of space above the quiet neighborhood.

“Definitely not normal,” Chris said as he gaped at it. Chris veered his car around and parked it against the curb, and the two hopped off frantically.

Nevin muttered, “Wow, what the hell is gonna come out of that?”

“I bet whatever’s coming already came; isn’t this kinda dangerous for regular people?”

“Ugh, I can’t deal with this supernatural crap anymore.”

“This really – wait, is that Edward?!”

Edward heaved as he mustered the strength to catch up to them.

Nevin’s eye twitched, and he uttered, “I’m not in the mood to see you Ed; you’d better stand your guard right now.”

Too tired to care, Edward groused, “Nevermind that. Other than you two nerds, I sensed something extremely big, and I have no clue what it could be.”

Nevin shook his head and said, “Maybe the giant rip in the sky that you’re seemingly blind to?”

Edward craned his sore neck at the sputtering rift amongst the clouds. “Oh. What IS that thing?!”

Chris shrugged and replied, “Dunno, doesn’t seem friendly though. Just be a radar and find the cause or something, maybe.”

“Shut up, I was already onto it.”

Edward closed his eyes and concentrated. Nevin tried exchange an unsure look to Chris, but Chris was considering whether or not to take a photo of how stupid Edward looked now.

After a short silence, Edward spoke up again. “There’s definitely a few supernatural monsters or something in the street on the next turn, and they might be walking towards here.”

Nevin cursed. “Out of all the f*cking places, why OUR neighborhood street?! Drew ABSOLUTELY can’t see this sh*t happening.”

Edward groaned, “What can you even do about it? It’s not like we have the power to poof them away from here.”

Nevin paced up and down a short walk, contemplating his choices. “…. I’m gonna kill the monsters.”

“Wait, WHAT?!” Chris exclaimed.

Nevin immediately re-worded his sentence with, “Well, we could at LEAST attack them until they run away to whatever hell they came from. They’re monsters or whatever, so it’s dangerous to let them see anyone else. We’re the best chance this place has got to defeat them.”

Error clenched his fists, grinning. “Sounds like a plan I’m going with.”

Nevin took a breath of relief and answered, “I’m surprised you agreed with anything.” Nevin paused, then proceeded to say, “Chris, you said Isaac was still at school, right?”

“Uhh… yeah?”

“Is there any way you can get him to stop Drew from coming here? Drew is also still at school, but if I straight up tell him not to come home, he’d get suspicious of it.”

Chris gulped. “I’ll try.”

Ed flinched and scowled, “You dimwits, they’re getting closer. Hurry, get over here!” The three scurried to the last house before the street intersection, where the three “monsters” were approaching.

Irritated, Nevin insisted quietly, “Chris, are you making the call or what?”

“Seriously, right now?!”

Nevin quickly nodded. Back against the wall, Chris flurried over the screen of his phone. After a couple second of intense waiting, Isaac finally picked up.

“Hey Chris, what’s up? We’re almost done with the assignment here.”

Chris peeked beyond the corner and caught a glimpse of the walking skeletons. He lowered his voice and responded, “This is urgent; could you ditch your group? We really need someone to distract Nevin’s brother, Drew.”

Isaac’s voice grew puzzled. “Wait what, why? I barely know that broken-legged kid, and I wanna see what’s going on.”

“Please Isaac, it’s really important to Nevin, and I’ll explain everything that happens later.”

Nevin grumbled in impatience in the distance.

Sighing, Isaac finally accepted, “… Alright fine. I’ll see what I can do. Don’t go getting killed now.”

The call ended, and Chris whispered, “Whenever you’re ready.”

——–

“AAAAHHHH!”

The three skeletons hollered as they fell from the portal in the middle of the sky, and they landed in the most inconvenient way. Battered and bruised from escaping Dream, they tumbled off of each other on the asphalt road.

“Owww, ow ow oww,” Cross hissed.

Error looked around, studying the surrounding houses. “What universe is this?”

Nightmare let out a musing hum and answered, “I don’t think we’ve ever been to this one before, and it doesn’t seem influenced by JR at all.”

Cross pumped his fists in the air, saying, “Niiice, let’s go freshen up before we get back home.” They meandered along the neighborhood in search of a corner store until Nightmare hesitated before a street intersection.

“Wait a second, what if the monsters underground haven’t been freed in this timeline yet? I don’t feel any magic except for some-”

A human’s fist suddenly bolted straight at Nightmare’s face. Instinctively, Nightmare summoned his staff with both of his hands and parried Nevin’s arm. Nevin felt crushed under his own adrenaline, and his eyes flickered cyan. Edward and Chris appeared behind Nevin, but they were unsure on how to make the next move against the two other skeletons.

Cross summoned his weapon while Error lowered his pose into a defensive stance, interrogating, “Who are you all!?”

Nevin continued to push against Nightmare’s staff in a battle of strength, yet he managed to retaliate, “We should be asking that to you!” Aiming at Nightmare’s wide-open side, Nevin swung his available right arm at the short skeleton – only for Nevin’s arm to be hauled away by familiar blue strings. Nevin furiously whipped his head to Edward.

“Goddamnit Ed, what the hell are you doing?!”

Startled, Edward stuttered, “Huh?” There were no strings on Edward’s hands yet.

Nevin halted. “Wha-”

“You shouldn’t avert your eyes in a fight,” Nightmare snapped. He caught Nevin off guard by ramming his shin into Nevin’s knees, which sent Nevin buckling downwards. As soon as he hit the ground, Nevin was restricted in more of Error’s blue strings.

Cross sprung up with a giant knife in his hands towards Nevin, yelling, “Don’t you dare try to hurt Nightmare!”

Error insisted, “Calm down, Cross!”

“Cross?” Chris thought. He reacted immediately and clashed his own giant knife against the skeleton’s knife before it reached Nevin. Edward took this chance to yank Nevin away from the skeletons with his own blue strings, which promptly caught Error’s attention. After Chris and Cross got a perplexing examination of each other’s sword and red eye, they both leapt away.

The two groups stared at each other with bewilderment, and the atmosphere was tense until Cross interrupted the silence with, “Ohhhh, I get it now.”

Nevin, Edward, and Chris eyed each other with uncertance before loosening up.

Error groaned, “I know I said portal us far away from them, but you didn’t have to throw us into another multiverse!”

Nightmare unsummoned his staff and crossed his arms. “It was an accident, okay? I didn’t know that this was possible.”

Cross chimed, “At least JR can’t ever find us here.”

“True, true,” Error added.

Edward coughed to get the skeletons’ awareness. “Do I have to remind you that we have absolutely no clue what’s going on?”

Nightmare pressed his right temple. “This is way too complicated to explain, much less to comprehend…”

Nevin reluctantly inspected Chris and Cross, Edward and Error, and himself and Nightmare. “I’m guessing that you guys are some magical skeleton forms of us three…?”

“Hmm, more or less,” Error answered. “Long story short, we’re alternate versions of each other.”

Edward’s interest was piqued even further, but Chris squinted at the skeletons and murmured, “I can NOT wrap my head around this.”

Judiciously, Nightmare half-lidded the human boys. “I gotta say, what’s up with you all attacking us? I get that you don’t see monsters everyday, but you should’ve at least had the caution to check if we were gonna kill you or not.”

Nevin sighed, “As a matter of fact, I was already DONE with this supernatural bullsh*t way before the portal thingy showed up. I can’t care to be more cautious with this crap anymore.”

Edward glanced up to see the portal once more, but it had already vanished. Edward raised an eyebrow, wondering, “About the portal, what are you “alternate versions of us” doing here in the first place?”

Not wanting to think about it, Cross took a deep breath and fumed, “Yeah, about that… A certain somebody was chasing our asses down to throw us into jail, and our escape route led us here.”

Startled, Chris asked, “Jail?! Were you doing illegal things or something?”

Nightmare shot an annoyed look at the sky. “Frankly, we were only going grocery shopping for our cooking.”

Error cleared his nonexistent throat. “Correction: YOUR cooking. Also, if you went by yourself, we probably wouldn’t have gotten caught.”

“Well,” Cross opposed. “I’d say Nightmare’s cooking is kinda worth shopping for.”

Nevin’s eyes widened in amusement, and Chris added quickly, “My gosh YES, Nevin’s cooking is holy enough to worship!”

Error laughed. “Honestly, our two idiots sometimes get along too well. Hey other me, don’t you kinda ship your two?”

Edward blinked, and then broke out into snickering. “The nerds, Chris-cross and emo kid?! Pfffhaha I should’ve noticed sooner!”

Nightmare was too used to it by now, while Cross grinned and rolled his eyes. On the other hand, Chris and Nevin stammered, unable to hide their flustered faces.

“Who would’ve thought someone other than Isaac would ship us?” Chris pondered. To defend his embarrassment, Chris retorted to Edward, “Why don’t you stop being a raging tsundere and finally confess to Ink? I’ve always wondered what happened in the closet.”

In awe, all three skeletons blurted, “INK?!”

Edward quivered. “You know that I HATE Isaac!”

“Well there you have it, still enemies,” Nightmare assured.

Disturbed, Error objected, “I could never see that ship working out; we barely even interact.”

Cross nudged Error with his elbow. “Well, except for that one time you tied him in your strings and unnecessarily held him in your arms.”

“WHAT.” Error shook his head. “I think we all know that me and Ink is much less likely than you and Nightmare.”

Edward smirked smugly and said, “Hah, Wait ‘til Blueberry gets a hold of this ship! I’ll get that shady guy to spread that info so quickly – Nevin, you better get ready for some revenge.”

Suddenly, Error’s expression fell flat, and he mumbled, “Blueberry… as in B-Blue?” Error had a strong chill crawl down his spine.

Nevin noticed Error and asked, “Hey, you okay?” Error attempted to shake off his lurching emotions and nodded slowly.

Nightmare spoke up towards Nevin, “Hmm, a Blue here too… Out of curiosity, is there a Dream- I mean, do you have a twin brother?”

Nevin jolted, and his face instantly soured. “Wha- Don’t you DARE try to get Drew involved with this supernatural sh*t!”

“Protecting him, huh…” Nightmare looked down with a hint of guilt. He then faced Nevin once again, warning sternly, “You might wanna keep your negative powers in check if you wanna do that.”

Before Nevin could question Nightmare, sirens started to blare in the distance. A passerby in the neighborhood most likely saw the commotion and called 911.

Chris spotted the lights of the police cars from the left. “Guys, this is gonna get out of hand really fast.”

“This reminds me of JR, haha,” Cross remarked.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Edward shouted, “Wait, you said JR earlier too! What is JR?! Tell me EVERYTHING!!”

Error shrugged it off. “We should probably hightail outta here before we confuse the hell out of more people.”

As the skeletons gathered closer, Edward tried to grab Nightmare before Edward was shoved back by Nevin’s arm.

Nevin huffed, “Chill Quinton, let them leave. We can’t have more people seeing them.”

Nightmare opened a portal, and he gave one last glance to the three boys before running through the portal with Error and Cross.

——————————————————

Man, I wish I was fluent in memey-ness. Then maybe I could’ve made the scenario more fun and more true to character. I’m also bad at Nightmare’s criticism because it’s so badass that I can’t mimic it. This was fun though :D

Btw, you can decide whether the ships are real or not in this fic, because the short shipping scene works whether they’re actually into each other or not. Yayyyyy.

#kill me #i got too lazy to draw the white lines on cross #also this is the tiniest that i've ever drawn a group photo; never again this tiny o-o #dreamswap #ibvs #onebizarrekai #fanfic

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sweetlysilent · 7 years ago

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Harsh Words

Requested By: Anonymous

hey bae<3 could you write a fic with peter where he’s having such a bad day, he’s super grumpy and the reader tries to help him but he gets super mad and says cruel things? i’m a sucker for drama, sorry!! love your blog btw

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Description: You’d noticed that Peter had been acting down all day, he was your best friend and you were concerned for him. You decided to try and help him, only to get belittled by your so called “best friend.”

Warnings: Swearing, could possibly be triggering to some people, verbally abusive, plot twist ending yeet

Word Count: 3,472

A/N: So this was so much fun to write oh myyyyyy, the ending is my favorite hahha, I am willing to write a part two if people really want it. But yeah, enjoy :)))

Lately, you’d noticed your best friend Peter had become a bit distant, you’d see how tired he’d look when he came to school, how on edge he was all the time, even a few marks on his face from time to time.

You were concerned for your friend, but at the same time you were confused as to why he was shutting you out.

You’d noticed Ned had started becoming distant too, becoming closer with Peter and excluding you more.

Michelle had noticed this happening too, she too didn’t understand what was going on, but at the same time she didn’t really care, it didn’t involve her.

You walked over to your table at lunch, carrying the brown bag in your hand, as Michelle sat a few seats away like usual, her face in a book, however, you noticed Peter and Ned having an intense conversation, but the second they saw you, they stopped.

“Hey guys.” You smiled, but they didn’t return the smile, nor the friendly gesture.

You felt your heart break, what had you done that made them suddenly hate you so much?

“Is every thing okay?” You questioned hesitantly, looking between the two of them.

Ned and Peter glanced at you for a split second before looking at each other, letting out a sigh.

“Yeah, every thing is fine Y/N, just a rough day, that’s all.” Ned answered vaguely, as you nodded, clearly not convinced.

You couldn’t help but observe Peter, he looked tired, worn out, overall just miserable.

“Peter are you sure you’re alright?” You asked again, you didn’t believe that they were just fine you knew there was more than what they were letting on.

“Y/N, just let him be.” Ned pressed on, making you roll your eyes, a flash of anger going through them, making Ned shut up quickly.

“I don’t give a damn, I want to know what the hell is going on? Is that so bad?” You spoke angrily, watching as Ned shrunk in his seat as Peter just glared at the table, his anger finally peaking.

“You know what Y/N? You need to mind your own damn business, maybe if you did that more often you’d actually have friends! Maybe then we’d actually like to hangout with you more if you weren’t constantly trying to pry into our lives and figure us out all the time! It’s like you have no consideration for anyone but yourself!” Peter shouted, surprising not only himself, but Ned, Michelle and especially you.

Peter had never yelled at you before, especially not in front of everyone.

You sat there, wide eyed, unable to speak, your heart broken into a million pieces.

He did hate you.

You nodded slowly, tears brimming your eyes as you started packing up your lunch, no longer hungry and definitely no longer wanting to be around him.

“Sorry to have been such a burden to you.” You spat out, tears streaming down your cheeks as you stormed out of the cafeteria, throwing your lunch away as you left.

Peter sat there watching you leave, his heart breaking as you did, he knew he messed up, really bad.

“Dude what the actual hell was that!” Ned shouted, hitting Peter on the arm, making him wince.

“I don’t know! Ugh, I really don’t know.” Peter muttered, frustration clear in his voice.

Michelle on the other hand was watching every thing, although she never interfered with any of her table members, she felt this was a good time to break that.

“What you did was really fucked up Parker, she really cared for you, I hope you remember that.” Michelle commented, before grabbing her book and her apple, and exiting the table, leaving both of them in shock.

“Dude you’re so fucked.” Ned groaned, as Peter hit his head on the table, groaning out in frustration.

“I know, I don’t even know why I said what I did! It just came out without warning.” Peter sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Honestly Peter, I don’t know if you can fix this one, I don’t think Spider-Man himself can fix this.” Ned whispered the last part, making Peter sigh sadly, he knew Ned was right, you were never going to forgive him.

He didn’t know what had gotten into him the past few weeks, his job as Spider-Man had become a bit more stressful, therefore adding extra stress into his regular life, and then on top of that there was school, where he was pressured into doing well all the time, and he just couldn’t balance it out recently.

He’d been loosing hours of sleep fighting off criminals as Spider-Man, therefore making him more tired in class, unable to focus on the lessons.

Sometimes he’d come to school with a new cut or bruise from his mission the previous night, causing Ned to panic when he’d see him at his locker.

And then there was you, the sweetest person he knew, his best friend, the one person who wouldn’t even hurt a fly, the one person who genuinely cared about him, and now he pushed you away by going too far.

He thought pushing you away at first was the best to protect you from what he actually did, but as time went on it just got worse, he knew how bad he was hurting you, and it hurt him too, but he kept telling himself it was for the best.

But then Ned started to avoid you too, which made Peter angry, he wasn’t supposed to ditch you too, but Ned was also his best friend too, which made it even more difficult.

Peter and Ned had avoided you the best they could for two weeks, slowly getting out of your life, to keep you safe of course.

But you, you found it the total opposite.

And now your assumptions were proven correct, and you couldn’t feel any worse than you already did.

This time it was your turn to avoid both Peter and Ned, you did for weeks, refusing to talk to them, look at them, sit with them, basically anything that involved them, you find a way out of it.

If you were such a burden to their lives why be in it at all? Wasn’t that what they wanted anyways?

Peter did say you always tried to pry into their lives and figure everything out, and that you had no consideration for anyone but yourself, so you decided maybe he was right.

That’s why you decided to change, you weren’t going to be that person anymore.

Weeks turned to months, and you were still ignoring them, they did their best to try and talk to you, but it was no use.

You on the other hand became best friends with Michelle and Liz, who also helped give you a complete makeover.

You decided to become a better version of yourself, you dressed nicer, did your hair and even put on makeup, something you never once used to do.

This surprised everyone the day you walked into school with Liz and Michelle, nobody had ever seen you like this before, and you weren’t going to lie, you loved how much attention you were getting.

You noticed Peter and Ned, watching you with wide eyes, which made you smirk slightly, you got what you had wanted.

Peter and Ned on the other hand, got the exact opposite, they changed you, for the worst.

“Dude what the hell!” Ned whisper shouted, looking at his best friend with wide eyes.

“I don’t know Ned, I guess I really hurt her, and now she’s getting us back by becoming something she isn’t.” Peter sighed, leaning his head in his locker, groaning as Ned just stood there still stunned.

“She did look good though, you have to admit that.” Ned nudged Peter who’s head shot up quickly, hitting his head on the locker shelf.

“Ow,” He muttered, rubbing his head before slamming his locker shut, “And alright yeah, she does look good, I hadn’t seen her like that before.” Peter shrugged, adjusting his backpack straps.

The bell rang, and everyone started going to their classes, sadly for you, your first class was with Peter and Ned.

“Alright, good morning everyone!” Your teacher Mr. Scott smiled, as you all gave blank stares.

“I see everyone is tired, but this is chemistry and it’s going to blow your mind and wake you all up! So, to do that, I’m assigning you all in groups to work on a project.” Mr. Scott picked up his paper, scrolling down the list, while reading off names.

“Y/N, Peter, and Ned, you’re all one group.” Mr. Scott announced, making your eyes widen as you glanced over at the two of them, who were equally as stunned.

He then dismissed everyone to get to work, you slowly walked over to their table, throwing your stuff on the desk.

Peter and Ned watched you anxiously, unsure of what to say, or even what to do.

“So, uhm, what do you think we should make?” Ned broke the awkward silence, you gave a shrug in response, not looking at them as Peter kept his stare on you, his heart beating faster.

“Y/N, do you have any ideas?” Peter pressed on, making you roll your eyes before looking up at him, his eyes widening, this was the first time in months you both made eye contact.

“I think you should go to hell.” You smiled, grabbing your pencil before writing down chemical formulas.

Peter’s mouth dropped open, that was the last thing he’d expected to hear you say, he felt his heart break more, but there was also a bit where anger was slipping in.

“You know after months, I thought you would of cooled off already.” Peter muttered, making your head snap up, your eyes narrowing at the brunette boy in front of you.

“I’m sorry, let me see, last I checked my ex best friend was super nice, but then he suddenly abandoned me, and then his other friend, who was also my friend, abandoned me, and then I was told I wasn’t a considerate person, because all I care about is myself, which is ridiculous because I distinctively remember trying to care about you and see what was wrong.” You shook your head, laughing at how in denial he was. “God you’re such an asshole.” You spat, your blood boiling as you grabbed your backpack, storming out of the classroom, despite your teacher yelling at you.

“Dude what is wrong with you? Are you trying to make her hate you even more than she already does?” Ned scolded, shaking his head at his friend as he sat there stunned.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just apologize for what he had done, now he just made it worse.

But that seemed to be the only thing he was good at doing lately.

Days passed since the incident in the classroom, you had told Liz and Michelle what had happened, they both were surprised Peter had the nerve to say that to you, but they were proud when you finally found the courage to stand up for yourself.

A few more days passed, you were at Liz’s house, having a movie night with her and Michelle, you started doing this so you would get over the other two who shall not be named.

“So Y/N, are you going to homecoming with anyone?” Liz questioned, popping a piece of popcorn in her mouth, Michelle also curious.

“I don’t know, I don’t really know that many people.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders.

“Oh come on Y/N, basically the entire football team wants to take you!” Liz laughed, throwing popcorn at you as Michelle grinned.

“Oh hush.” You laughed, eating a piece of the popcorn that was thrown at you.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, you let out a groan, causing Liz and Michelle to look over at you.

“It’s my mom, I gotta go.” You sighed, giving a sad smile to your friends who begged you to stay, but eventually let you leave.

You started walking home, it was late, the sky was dark, sometimes you were nervous walking alone, but for some reason this time you weren’t.

That is until you felt some sticky substance connect to your shirt, and before you knew it you were flying across Queens.

“What the hell! Put me down!” You screeched, and thankfully the “kidnapper” put you down on a building rooftop.

“Oh great it’s you, Spider dude.” You muttered, trying to remove the web attached to you.

“That’ll dissolve in two hours.” Spider-Man spoke, making you roll your eyes.

“That’s just great!” You sighed, running your fingers through your hair annoyed.

“Any reason you decided to kidnap me?” You looked at the masked hero, who shifted awkwardly.

“Actually yes.” He sighed, slowly pulling the mask off his head, revealing the last person you ever expected.

“Peter?” You whispered, your eyes wide as Peter watched you nervously.

“I-I wanted to tell you Y/N, but my job, it’s just so dangerous, and I couldn’t afford to have anything to happen to you.” Peter rushed out, his hands shaking anxiously.

“Y-You lied to me! You made me feel like the shittiest person ever Peter!” You yelled, making him cringe at your words.

“You made me feel like you hated me.” You whispered the last part out, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“I thought that maybe if I made you hate me, it’d keep you safer.” Peter tried to explain, reaching out to you, but you backed away.

“You don’t get to touch me, you lied to me, you broke me.” You choked out, your body visibly shaking.

“I’m so so sorry Y/N.” Peter apologized, but you just laughed, making his blood turn cold.

“Did Ned know?” You questioned, watching him avoid your gaze, you nodded slowly, running your tongue over your lip, “Wow, so you trusted him, but not me.” You sniffed, anger taking over your emotions.

“I didn’t intend to tell him! He found out by accident!” Peter defended, making your shrug.

“Does it matter? He still knew Peter! Makes sense why he decided to leave me too.” You laughed bitterly, shaking your head at all the information you were receiving.

“Please Y/N, I’m sorry, please forgive me.” Peter pleaded, but you just shook your head.

“No Peter, I’m not going to forgive you, you put me through hell for months, and now you think it’s okay to just apologize and assume every thing will be back to normal.” You looked at him, tears stained on your cheeks as Peter looked at you desperately.

“It’s your turn to feel what I felt.” You looked around, noticing there was no way off the building.

“Get me down from here please.” You sighed, as Peter nodded sadly, wrapping his arm around you for what was probably the last time, as he swung you home.

He set you down on your fire escape, but before you could turn and go inside, he pulled you in for a tight hug.

You didn’t want to, but you slowly hugged him back, deep down you missed the brunette nerd, but at the moment you despised him with a burning passion.

“I will win you back.” He mumbled into your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead, before swinging off.

It had been weeks since you had last seen Peter, or as you should say “Spider-Man” which wasn’t a bad thing.

He was off doing who knows what, fighting whoever, while you were planning on who to go with for homecoming.

“So how’s project Y/N coming along?” Ned asked, spinning around in Peter’s chair.

“It’s not, it’s more how is she making me feel, and I feel like shit. She told me she was going to make me feel how she felt, and well, it’s working.” Peter groaned, tugging on his hair frustrated.

They both were silent for a moment before Peter’s head snapped up, something was wrong, his Spidey senses were tingling.

“I gotta go, be back soon!” Peter shouted, before going out his window to where he was being directed.

When he arrived to the scene, he was shocked, there was a group of people being held hostage by some random person in a costume.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt this,” He motioned to the hostages, “But you have to let them go.” He added, as the villain laughed.

“And why should I do that?” They fired back, the voice making his eyes widen a bit.

“Because, it’s me you want.” He shot back, his heart beating quicker, as the villain nodded slowly, releasing the hostages.

“Alright fine, have it your way.” The villain shrugged, catching Spider-Man off guard as they hit him in the stomach and face.

Spider-Man groaned, before getting back up, he knew that voice, but how did he know it?

“Who are you?” He asked, as the masked villain laughed, grinning through the mask.

“Your worst nightmare.” They responded, before hitting him again, making him groan in pain.

Then it all clicked, it was you, you were the new villain he had been fighting for the past few weeks, and he just now realized it.

“Karma is a bitch Peter.” You laughed, before disappearing into the darkness, Peter standing there stunned.

He quickly swung home, scaring Ned as Peter flung his mask off, pacing around the room.

“Dude calm down, what happened?” Ned questioned, watching his best friend pace back and forth.

“You know the new villain I was telling you about?” Peter rushed out quickly as Ned nodded in response.

“I just found out who it is.” Peter breathed out, his face flushed as Ned waited anxiously.

“It’s Y/N.”

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sapphicscholar · 7 years ago

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The much-requested follow up to the Craigslist Girlfriend Chapter 141! It's all crack and fluff with just a moment or two of discussion about Maggie's past with her family. As my girlfriend put it, "it's too fucking cute." Enjoy!

A/N: Because sometimes I think holidays and a lot of holiday episodes of shows or chapters of fanfic hype up the idea of coming out, just as a reminder, if it isn't safe for you to come out or you aren't ready to deal with questions, you're more than okay not coming out, and you certainly don't have to do it on a day with a ton of other stressors already happening just because it's a "convenient" time when the whole family might already be around. It's a personal choice, not one that society or other people (even family and close friends) get to make for you. And if you have the choice and don't want to spend today with biological family, that's okay too! Do what's best for you personally, and sometimes that means binge-watching shitty TV and eating takeout and ice cream with chosen family.

Chapter Text:

“Did you know about her real job?” Alex demanded, cornering Lucy and pushing her up against a wall.

“Ya know, I’ve had dreams about this exact situation, Agent Danvers,” Lucy taunted, biting at her lower lip and throwing a lewd wink in Alex’s direction.

“I’m being serious. She said you interrogated her with Vasquez. Did you two know?”

“Um, kind of? Not quite. We knew that she wasn’t quite the scumbag she advertised herself as.”

“And how did you find that out?”

“We had her produce all of her old arrest documents and tax returns.”

Alex continued to eye Lucy suspiciously. “They could have been fakes.”

“No, Vasquez brought a computer system and finger print scanner. We knew the stuff was hers, but we let her cover up her last name and all—very generous of us.”

“And so she also covered up everything that identified her prints as belonging to a cop?”

“I guess.” Lucy shrugged, ducking out from under Alex’s arm the moment she relaxed slightly. Now a few feet away from immediate bodily harm, Lucy grinned over at her interrogator. “Now that you know she’s a cop, that change anything? Suddenly noticing how hot she is?”

Scowling, Alex scoffed and shook her head. “She’s still weird enough to lie about herself online.”

“And you’ve never lied online?” Lucy interjected, shooting Alex a disbelieving look.

“Not like that! And I certainly never volunteered to crash Thanksgiving with a bunch of random people!”

“You could have cancelled on her, but you didn’t…” Lucy trailed off, letting the meaning of her words sink in. “I’m just saying, maybe you don’t have that much room to judge.”

“Whatever.” Alex turned back to the two-way mirror, looking in at Maggie, who sat surrounded by large stacks of paperwork all marked up with sticky tabs indicating where she needed to sign, date, and initial. Seeing her look so small at the large table, Alex felt a pang of guilt. After all, the woman was stuck spending a holiday alone with paperwork when the only thing her ad had made clear was that she wanted a hot meal spent with other people, even if she wasn’t quite being honest about whom she was.

With a deep breath, Alex pushed open the door. “I come bearing pie.”

“My savior,” Maggie teased, though her stomach chose that moment to let out a loud growl.

“Yes, well, I suppose you were right about having been promised a meal. And I’m not one to back out of a promise.”

“You did stick with me, even once you met Gertie…”

Alex let out a small snort of laughter but nodded, sinking down into the chair opposite Maggie. “You know, when I was little, I used to beg my parents for a dog.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. I put together whole presentations about why we should get one. They taught responsibility, encouraged physical activity, increased their owners happiness and longevity.” Maggie bit back a smile, imagining a shrunken down version of the woman sitting in front of her presenting whole stacks of research to her parents. “They insisted we didn’t have enough time to be responsible dog owners. In retrospect…yeah, okay, probably fair. But I had everything planned.”

“That’s really sweet, Danvers.”

Alex shrugged. “Point is, I decided about that time that we would name her Gertrude.”

“That’s, uh, quite the name.”

“You named your truck Gertie.”

“I suppose I did…guess it’s just the universe telling us how perfect we are together,” Maggie teased, though she had to admit, spending the day with Alex was much more fun than she had expected. She felt like she knew her better than a few of the women she’d actually dated in recent memory.

“Ah yes, such a sweet talker. For that I’m taking away your pie.”

“Hey!” Maggie protested, holding out her hands and making a gimme motion.

“Nope. When you’re done—if you’re good.”

“Mmm, now that doesn’t sound as platonic as the ad said.” When Alex’s cheeks colored, Maggie grinned triumphantly. “So what else do I get if I’m good?”

“Both kinds of pie,” Alex deadpanned.

“And if I don’t behave?”

Alex rolled her eyes. “You get thrown into a cell until you do.”

“Kinky.”

“Fuck off.”

“If it means I don’t have to do paperwork anymore…”

Eyeing the large stacks, Alex began flipping through them. “First of all, you’re close to done. Second of all, you’re moving slowly.”

“I’m reading the fine print! I don’t sign something not knowing what it says.”

“What if I tell you—help speed this process up?”

“You won’t lie?”

“We’re on camera if I do.”

“And? I know what happens when tapes get lost.”

“You have my word, alright?” Alex didn’t mention that she also had knowledge that Alex had threatened to kill over on more than one occasion, but Maggie seemed to understand that fact.

“Fine.” So Maggie sat back and began initialing and signing more quickly as Alex sped through the information they contained, reducing 400-page documents to a single sentence: “If you out Kara, the DEO will try to lock you up, but they’ll never find your body because I will have come for you first.”

“Says that in the packet, does it?”

“No, I’m giving you the honest version.”

There was something in the steely glint to Alex’s gaze that told Maggie not to push it—not that she ever had any intention of outing Supergirl anyway. She had enough alien friends and experience with forcible outings to know better. “I would expect nothing less.”

“Good.” And she genuinely believed Maggie for some reason.

Eventually they made it through the large stack, finishing much faster than Maggie ever would have if left on her own. “Well, you’re a free woman now, Maggie Sawyer.”

“I believe I was promised pie when I finished my assignment.”

“Mm, that you were…” Thinking back on it, Alex would never know what led her to suggest it—whether it was the knowledge that Maggie had stood up for her to her mother and, hell, to her own voice of self doubt, or if it was just the fresh memory of the delightful way she’d been such a dick to Mike, or maybe the reminder of Lucy’s words about just how cute the woman was—but Alex took a deep breath and turned to Maggie. “My mom dropped off the leftovers at my apartment, and I’ve even got a bottle of scotch there that I bet pairs well with chocolate pecan pie.”

Tilting her head to the side, Maggie tried to find some hint of sarcasm or a prank to get back at her for lying about her occupation. But Alex looked somewhat earnest, and, maybe Maggie was just projecting, but she almost seemed flirty. “You and me?”

“What? Yeah, I mean, I just, neither of us have anywhere else to go today. Though we could, you know, keep each other company.”

“Yeah—yeah, alright.” Even if she was fairly certain it was only her imagination making Alex’s offer sound distinctly sexual in nature, she was down for pie, scotch, and good company.

---

“You asshole, you were gonna let me break my hand punching an alien in the face?” Maggie cackled, the second or third glass of whiskey having loosened them both up. As she tucked her legs up underneath her on the sofa, she found herself feeling beyond grateful for the sweatpants Alex had let her borrow, even if they were a bit long.

“You’re the one that offered to punch him. I just didn’t say no,” Alex pointed out, snorting as Maggie yelled, “Semantic, Danvers! Semantics!”

Finally pulling herself up off the couch, Alex traipsed over to the kitchen where her mom had stored the leftovers. They probably should have started with food; maybe she wouldn’t be feeling the scotch quite as much as she was if they had. “What do you want?”

You, Maggie thought, shaking her head to get rid of that distinctly dangerous thought. “What are you offering?” she called back instead, thinking flirty suggestions were still better than outright propositions.

“There’s turkey, mashed potatoes—damn, Kara’s gonna be pissed when she finds out mom didn’t leave all of them for her—um, cheesecake, chocolate pecan pie, and some kind of cookie.”

“I was told that the pecan pie was the best in the galaxy—and now that I know that wasn’t an exaggeration…”

“Ugh,” Alex groaned, though she still cut a generous portion and dropped it onto a plate, grabbing a slice of cheesecake for herself. She topped off both of their glasses before settling back down on the couch a bit closer to Maggie than she had been before.

“Cheesecake, really? You gonna tell me you always dreamed of being on the Golden Girls?”

“What?”

“The Golden Girls—the show.” Alex continued to look at her in confusion. “C’mon, Rose, Sophia, Blanche, and Dorothy? Four old ladies living together, kickin it old school down in Florida. Really? Never seen it?”

“Why would I have voluntarily watched a show about senior citizens?”

“Because it was amazing. Duh.”

“Mhm, sureeee.”

“I’m serious! First of all”—Maggie held up her index finger, balancing her plate precariously on her knee—“it was so fucking progressive for its time. Second of all, it was all ladies as the main cast. Third, it’s fucking hilarious.” When Alex still looked unimpressed, Maggie waved a hand dismissively at her. “Whatever, you’re such a Dorothy.”

“What does that mean?”

“Guess you’ll have to watch the show to find out.” Maggie stuck her tongue out at her, not caring how childish it seemed.

“You’re the worst.”

“Nope, can’t be true. Cause I’m also the best.”

“How do you figure that?”

“It’s what all my ex-girlfriends said in bed,” Maggie teased, arching an eyebrow, challenging Alex to respond.

“Mm, find me a girlfriend who’s still your girlfriend to say it, then we’ll talk.”

Biting her tongue, Maggie managed to avoid offering to prove it right then and there. “If I had a girlfriend right now, you would’ve been out a fabulous fake date for the day.”

“There is that.”

“And if I hadn’t been your fake date, you wouldn’t be having this amazing night of tipsy fun right now.”

“I probably would have been tipsy.”

“Yeah, but c’mon, being tipsy with me is like, a bajillion times better.” As if to emphasize her point, Maggie topped off their glasses again, thinking that she should probably call it quits after that—no need to be completely hungover tomorrow, especially when she was sure to get called in for all sorts of Black Friday spats.

“Maybe.”

“Totally. It feels like—like back when you were younger, and at a sleepover, and it was beyond late, and everyone was just a little delirious, but it was so much fun. Like—that time of night when anything could happen ’cause all the grownups were asleep, and it was like you and your friends ruled the world.” She tried not to dwell on how she’d lost several years of those kinds of nights after everything with Eliza—too scared to let herself get close to any of her friends again, too jaded and bitter.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Maggie noticed the faraway look in Alex’s eyes. “So who was she?”

“Who?”

“The girl.”

“What girl?”

“C’mon, the one you used to have sleepovers with and spend all of your time together with—best friend-level status—but when you came out you realized that not everyone also wants to hold their best friend’s hand and snuggle and spend the rest of their lives together and maybe kiss each other.”

Eventually Alex relented, sighing, “Vicky Donahue.” Maggie patted Alex’s shoulder softly. “What about you?”

“Oh, uh,” Maggie stammered; she hadn’t thought this all the way through. “Um, Eliza—Eliza Wilkie. I don’t—I don’t really wanna talk about it, though.”

Sensing the abrupt shift in mood, Alex turned to Maggie, a grin playing about her lips. “Alright, well, fuck them—except, I guess, probably don’t.” Maggie snorted at that. “We still deserve fun sleepovers, just cause we missed out on some of them.”

Wondering if Alex had had something similar happen, or if it was more that all too common story—the fights that seemed to erupt with no explanation, the dissolution of long friendships when the other one suddenly found a boy to occupy her time—Maggie shrugged. “What do you propose?”

“Well you’re too fucked up to drive, that’s for sure.” Maggie nodded in acknowledgment; she hadn’t been planning on driving Gertie home that night. “So eating absurd amounts of dessert and playing stupid slumber party games?” Alex wasn’t entirely sure why she wasn’t ready for the night to end just yet, but Maggie was fun and, she thought, feeling a bit wistful, she hadn’t gotten to have much fun in a while. Sure, Lucy was great, but more and more she spent her time out at the desert base and her weekends with Vasquez. And Alex was happy for them—of course she was—but she couldn’t help but feel a little…lonely, and Maggie seemed like just the way to add some much needed fun back into her life. The whole day was absurd. Why not make it even more so? And then they never needed to see each other again.

“So, what, truth or dare?” Maggie laughed, but Alex just shrugged.

“Alright. Unless you’d rather I straighten your hair…”

“Truth or Dare, Danvers.”

“Dare.”

“Damn…jumping right in there with a dare.” Maggie paused; she’d forgotten how hard it was to come up with good dares, and the alcohol gave her plenty of ideas, but she doubted that any of them were useful. “Uh, I dare you to prank call Mike.”

“He knows my number.”

“You can use my phone. And god, Alex, you block the number, duh.”

Rolling her eyes, Alex accepted the proffered phone, dialing *67, then plugging in Mike’s number. It wasn’t until he picked up that she realized she hadn’t planned anything, and she definitely hadn’t prank called anyone in many, many years. “Um, is your refrigerator running?” Alex asked, fumbling for words as Maggie bit down on her hand to keep from laughing.

“What?” he asked. “Do I know you?”

Panicking, Alex tried to deepen her voice and yelled into the phone, “No! You’re dumb, and I hate you! Bye!”

As soon as she hung up, Maggie howled in laughter. “That was the worst prank call I’ve ever seen in my life.” She wiped away the tears of laughter from her eyes.

“Whatever,” Alex huffed. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“Why the hell do you advertise on Craigslist for Thanksgiving? Honestly.”

“I used to work the holiday every year, but the kinds of calls you get on holidays—god, there’s only so much you can take of them. This is a way to get a free meal and not have to deal with a reminder that I’m alone, that my own family would rather have an empty seat at the table than see me—all because if I ever brought a date, she’d be a woman.”

“Fuck, Maggie, I—that sucks.”

“It’s been a long time. I’m used to it. The holidays just—it’s nice to have a kind of absurd distraction, see how fucked up other people’s families are too.”

“Yeah? Got any weird stories?” Alex asked, hoping to bring Maggie’s attention away from the past.

“I should make you wait for the next truth, but…I’m feeling generous. Hmm, last year I went with a dude whose whole family was military—really strict. He was an artist, and nothing he did was ever right. I guess they were on his case about bringing a date, and so he figured he’d give them a big fuck you, so I came in there with my “Fuck Bush” t-shirt and talked about getting arrested for protesting the military.” Alex looked rather impressed. “We were asked to leave before dinner was even over, but I snagged a whole pie and a bottle of wine on the way out.”

“So have you ever made it through a full meal?”

“Once or twice. The time I proposed—well that one went almost 7 hours! They needed to know all about me.”

“Have you seen that person since?”

“Nope.” Fixing Alex with a hard stare, Maggie tried to keep a serious face, even as she popped another bite of pie into her mouth. “Your turn. Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“Hm…last significant relationship?”

“Uh…god, I don’t know. I tried dating some dude for a bit in college, but that obviously didn’t work out too well—my being a big flaming homo who just hadn’t admitted it yet.”

“Mm, that does put a damper on things.”

“Then grad school and work kept me too busy to do more than a few casual dates now and then.”

“Makes sense.” Maggie didn’t really see who wouldn’t be willing to put up with slightly crazy work hours for a woman as gorgeous and funny as Alex, but then again, women sure hadn’t been willing to stick around for her.

“Truth or dare.”

“Hmm, truth I guess.”

“Worst first date.”

Maggie thought for a moment. “Hmm…back in college I took this girl to see a scary movie—she’d said that she really liked them too. As it turns out, she hated them. By the ten minute mark, she was already crying, and when we left she yelled at me. Apparently I should have realized that she was lying.”

“That sounds…dreadful,” Alex snorted. “If you ever want someone better to go see a horror movie with, I’m your girl.”

Maggie hated the way her stomach flipped at the idea of Alex being her girl. “Is that so?”

“Kara sure as hell won’t go with me.”

“Let me guess: she prefers romcoms where some douche-bro has a nice little redemption arc.”

“Just the ones.”

“Figures.” A beat. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth,” Alex answered.

“Hmm…hold old were you when you lost your virginity? Even if it’s a social construct,” Maggie added.

“Twenty. You?”

“I guess we can call this my next turn—18. So now you go again.”

“Uh, dare, I guess.”

Maggie tried to think of something. “Uh, show me any tattoos you have?”

“Don’t have any. Truth or dare.”

“Ugh, you suck. Um, truth.”

“One of these days, you’ll have to choose dare.” Maggie just shrugged; she would…eventually. “Most embarrassing moment.”

“In thirty years, Danvers? Dear god, how do I choose just one?”

“Okay, just in college.”

“Ooh, it’s a toss up.”

“Between?”

“Got caught a little, uh, less than dressed in the library. And accidentally sent something to a professor that was very much not meant for a professor.”

“How did you do that?”

“A couple of shots and too many documents saved on my desktop with less than descriptive file names.”

“Ugh, you’re one of those people?”

“Not anymore,” Maggie laughed. “Alright, your turn: truth or dare.”

“I guess truth.”

“Celebrity crush.”

“Oh but there are so many…”

“Pick one!”

“Um, oh god, what’s her name?” It was on the tip of her tongue, but the scotch was making her thoughts a little fuzzy around the edges, and Maggie’s hand that had somehow made its way to her knee wasn’t helping. “Um, she played Wonder Woman?”

“Oh fuck, yeah, she’s hot. Totally get it.”

“Yeah, anyway, truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

Alex cackled gleefully before suddenly pausing. “Um…huh, this is harder than I remember.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well back with friends we’d do stupid shit, like make each other dress up in ridiculous outfits or go streaking down the block.”

“You want me to go run a lap around the floor of your apartment building in the nude?” Maggie teased.

“Wha—what? No!” Forcing herself to laugh, Alex tried to drive away thoughts of what Maggie might look like naked, hoping the other woman hadn’t noticed the way her gaze had dropped, though her smirk seemed to suggest that she had definitely noticed.

“So if not that, then what’ll it be, Danvers? What do you want me to do?” She definitely didn’t imagine the slightly strangled noise Alex let out at that particular phrasing.

Trying to think of the least sexual thing she could, Alex suggested, “Let me give you an absurd hairstyle, then you have to snapchat a selfie with it.”

“Deal. Maggie turned around so that her back was to Alex and pulled her hair tie out, letting her hair fall to her shoulders. It wasn’t until Alex was up on her knees, her fingers raking through her hair, that Maggie realized she hadn’t quite thought this through, hadn’t quite realized just how sensual it could feel to have Alex touching her, even if it was to give her an absolutely hideous new look.

Running her fingers through Maggie’s hair, Alex tried to ignore the small shiver that ran through the smaller woman’s frame, tried to convince herself that she imagined the small moan of contentment. Instead she focused on giving Maggie the closest approximation to Cindy Lou Who’s hairstyle she could come up with.

By the time she finished, Maggie nearly fell off the couch in her rush to get away from Alex’s hands, from the heat of her body, from the chance that she would do something stupid like turn around and kiss her frustratingly kissable lips. Luckily catching sight of her new do was enough to completely distract from the situation at hand. “Oh my god,” she cackled. “What is this?”

“You like? Maybe I should contemplate a career change.”

“Oh for sure. Totally worth the risk.” Alex laughed and shook her head, finishing off her cheesecake while Maggie sent the photo around to a few of her closest friends.

Over the course of a few more rounds, Alex talked about her gay awakening and was given 60 seconds to pull together the most ridiculous outfit she could find—returning in as much neon as Kara had left in her closet over the years as she could gather in the allotted time—and Maggie was forced to eat some hideous concoction of the first three ingredients she touched in Alex’s fridge with her eyes covered.

Once she was done rinsing her mouth out for what felt like a thousandth time, Maggie turned back to Alex. “Truth or dare?”

“Um, truth.”

“Hmm…got a crush on anyone at the moment?” Maggie hoped it sounded innocuous enough, like it could totally just be one friend asking another friend, not angling or hoping for anything in particular.

Swallowing thickly, Alex made a noncommittal noise. “Maybe.”

“Well that sounds promising.”

“I don’t know—just, someone new. She seems fun, like maybe she’d be worth the risk.”

“Is she cute?” Maggie wondered if she was more of a narcissist or a masochist, though really that depended on whether or not Alex was talking about her.

“I’d probably say hot, but yeah, she’s cute too.”

“Probably pretty cool and suave too, huh?”

“Meh,” Alex teased, wondering if Maggie knew it was her. “She’s kind of dorky, comes off a little weird too.”

“Bet she’s still one of the coolest people you’ve ever met.”

“We’ll see…” Alex took a sip of the water she’d switched to about the time of Maggie’s absurd kitchen dare. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

Bracing herself, Alex tried to look nonchalant. “What about you? Found anyone you like recently?”

“I think so…”

“That so? Think she likes you back?”

“I sure hope so.”

“What’s she like?”

Maggie couldn’t help the dopey grin. “She’s really smart—like, genius level, ya know? And she’s just gorgeous. And, sure, okay, a huge nerd and probably not the smoothest person out there, but I think she might—she might get me, like, she might not try to change me into someone I’m not.”

Alex nodded earnestly. Even if Maggie wasn’t talking about her, she deserved someone who would give her all of that, deserved someone who would more than make up for the family she’d lost. God, she chastised herself, this so wasn’t like her. She didn’t fall head over heels for random people she barely knew, even when they did stand up for her and look that hot holding a gun and a badge. Kara was the one who got butterflies, who imagined futures together on first dates, who fell heart first without constantly second-guessing herself.

“Danvers?”

“Huh?” Alex shook herself from her thoughts.

“I said truth or dare.”

“Oh, um, dare.

Maggie nodded, trying to gather her courage. “You know, um, dares don’t have to be done at this moment, right? Like, if circumstances aren’t right, of if you don’t want to…”

“Well obviously, you didn’t say that you double dog dared me,” Alex teased, trying to lighten the mood. It seemed to work as Maggie cracked a smile.

“Right, right. Just a normal dare.” Maggie forced herself to look up at Alex’s face. “Well then, first chance you get, I dare you to kiss that crush of yours.”

“First chance, huh?”

“First chance,” Maggie confirmed.

They both sat there for a moment, neither one of them moving, until Alex surged forward. She could have been smoother about it or tried to go slow enough to make sure Maggie really knew what she had dared her to do, but she knew if she didn’t move quickly, she’d lose all her nerve. So she pressed her lips to Maggie’s, just barely kissing her despite the grand lead up to it all.

Before Alex could panic, backing off and rambling apologies until Maggie left her apartment, she felt a warm hand cupping the back of her neck and dragging her forward, their lips crashing together. And somehow, dressed in a neon yellow t-shirt with lime green leggings on and hot pink knee socks—she still wasn’t sure where Kara even found these types of things or why she had left them all at Alex’s place—and half-straddling a woman in overly long sweatpants with her hair done like Cindy Lou Who, Alex felt like she was enjoying one of the most romantic holidays of her life.

#sanvers #crack #fluff #thanksgiving #craigslist girlfriend #alex x maggie #alex danvers #maggie sawyer #lucy lane #fanfic #supergirl #ao3feed #prompt fill

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erraticprojectjunkie · 7 years ago

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2017 Book of the Year: Sweet Sixteen

The bittersweet fun of the Book of the Year Bracket Challenge is removing competitors one by one. Today, it's the big cuts. We'll be whittling down the competition from 26 books to the Sweet Sixteen. Some books will find themselves automatically moving forward while 10 unlucky souls will be left behind. Here is where we start... Buckle up...this is a long one... You'll notice that some brackets have only one competitor. Due to the number of books competing and the inability to fully fill the bracket, six lucky contestants move on automatically through the first round. And so... The Weight of Feathers by Anna Marie McLemore, The Master Magician by Charlie N. Holmberg, The Bookshop on the Corner by Jenny Colgan, Turtles All the Way Down by John Green, The Summer I Turned Pretty by Jenny Han, and Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs have all earned the right to continue. That was the easy part. Now...let's get to the meat of this round... Left Side Bracket The Paper Magician by Charlie N. Holmberg vs.The Glass Magician by Charlie N. Holmberg Ah...the magic of having the randomized bracket. It's totally unfair to Holmberg that two of her novels face off against each other right off the bat, but hey...she also managed one of the freebie slots, so I'm calling it even. I debated over this one for a bit. Both of these books are good--the initial and second reads in The Paper Magician trilogy. I initially struggled to get into the series, finding a lot of parallels and fearing that the trilogy was just a ripoff of Harry Potter. But...Holmberg has her own way with things and I quickly found myself more intrigued by the world she created and wondering about certain details as I read. This distracted me from the previous apprehension, and I mowed right through the series. Each of the two books has its merit. The Paper Magician was responsible for getting me interested in the series in the first place, but The Glass Magician was impressive as a sequel in a trilogy. It wasn't dull or serving as just a tie between the stories presented in the first and third books, as so often happens. Ultimately, I had to give credit where credit is due. And so... The Paper Magician takes the win and moves on to the next round. The Bean Trees by Barbara Kingsolvervs.Orphan Train by Christina Baker Kline The Bean Trees was given to me in a book exchange and Orphan Train has been sitting on my bookshelf for what seems like forever. The Bean Trees was a decent read, but the plot was a bit choppy in pieces. It was honest and raw writing without a feeling of melodramatics...well, not ones that drew away too much from the narrative. I wasn't wowed by it, but it wasn't a worthless read either. Orphan Train had pieces of absolutely beautiful writing and heartbreaking action. I loved half of this book...the half that was written in the past. There were two sets of narration in the book and that, for me, was the biggest downfall. The historical pieces were amazing and read swiftly. The modern sections felt like they were written by an entirely different author and just seemed forced. Both books were moderate reads that I wanted...expected...more from. But one book just left me feeling more satisfaction in the read. So even though these books were, honestly, quite evenly matched, only Orphan Train by Christina Baker Kline survives this round for further competition. Slade House by David Mitchellvs.An Abundance of Katherines by John Green This is a shocking match up for more than one reason. Number one...I don't read horror. Seriously. I haven't read a horror novel since...oh...somewhere around 1994. My apologies to Stephen King. I was pleasantly surprised at Slade House, which I read as part of RIPXII. It was witty and catchy. I read it pretty quickly since it gripped me quite well. I was slightly disappointed in the ending (this happens all too frequently), but overall I really quite enjoyed it. The other reason it's shocking? Well...Slade House managed to get paired up against John Green. Oy. Seriously. Based on my reading and rating history, An Abundance of Katherines should have been a shoe-in for progressing to at least the Final Four. And yet...I enjoyed the book, but I wasn't wowed. It was a good read, but didn't seem to be as deep and hard hitting as some of his other books. And that...well, that is the short version of why Slade House manages to edge out An Abundance of Katherines to move forward in the BOTY competition. The Girl Without a Name by Sandra Blockvs.Dad is Fat by Jim Gaffigan This was a pretty odd pairing to consider. The downside of a randomized bracket, I suppose. The Girl Without a Name is a mystery and suspense novel. I don't typically read that genre, but the synopsis drew me in. The story itself was quite interesting and the writing shows some definite talent. However, there were a few glitches that caused me pause. One major glitch, in fact. The author has a medical background (she's a neurologist) and yet her protagonist repeatedly disregards the principles of HIPAA, one of the most important and basic parts of being a medical provider. Anyone in real life who acted in the way her character does would immediately be at very least suspended and more likely fired with the possibility of having a licensure review. This nagged at me so much...seriously...it almost resulted in my ditching the book altogether. However, I soldiered on due to the good writing and the promise of a solid story. Ultimately, the plot held and I didn't hate it, but some of the characters seemed underdeveloped and that glitch just rubbed me the wrong way. Similarly, I found that Dad is Fat was a bit disappointing. You must think at this point I'm just a negative reviewer, but I blame this on seeing Gaffigan's stand up routine too often. I find him highly entertaining and enjoy his anecdotes. The book just fell short of whatever bar I had set for him. Damn you, preconceived notions. Don't get me wrong, the book is still funny and I did find myself giggling on occasion. I think I just expected to be wowed a bit more. Rats. So...two books that I had high hopes for that wound up being mediocre. Ugh. This is a depressing match up. Let's just rip the band-aid off and be done, shall we? Dad is Fat moves on to the next bracket, out of the sheer merit of not ticking me off. It's Not Summer Without You by Jenny Hanvs.A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles It's Not Summer Without You was my one reread of the year. And here's where I sound like an idiot... I didn't realize it was a reread until I was about fifty pages in. I just kept reading, thinking "Geez this sounds familiar. Have I read a book with a similar character before? Dang it...I know I've heard this name." And hey, guess what? I'd read it before. Embarrassing. And yet, I still enjoyed it. It could be a good beach read. It's nice and light and quick. Not hard hitting or enigmatic, but still entertaining. I read A Gentleman in Moscow as part of a short-lived book club. It took me a bit to get into...something of a slow starter, but I really enjoyed the character development. Alexander Rostov is an interesting character with a mesmerizing background. The narrative plows through several historical events with clever detail. Russian history is not my forte, so I think I did lose a little bit through my ignorance. Additionally, the author is incredibly bright and the writing is highly intellectual. The vocabulary is complex, which occasionally detracted from the story for me. It's definitely worth the read, but I would have gotten a bit more out of it had my understanding of some of the historical references and the language been more comprehensive. In this case, I decided to judge the winner based upon which one I would be more apt to grab up again or refer to a friend. Granted, the recommendation choice would likely be dependent on which friend was in question. But...I'm going by the most likely. So...A Gentleman in Moscow moves into the Sweet Sixteen. Right Side Bracket The Lauras by Sara Taylorvs.We Love You, Charlie Freeman by Kaitlyn Greenidge Ah...the easiest pairing you shall ever find. Well...at least in this list. I received the The Lauras from the publisher as a review copy. I had read Sara Taylor's The Shore a couple of years ago and thought she held great promise as an author. I wasn't wrong in that. The Lauras is a contemporary fiction novel that could easily fall into a young adult category. The writing is very honest. Taylor does fantastically with description and creates a very vivid narrative. There were detractors that kept this away from a 5-star review, but they aren't important for this particular match-up. So...we'll address them later. We Love You, Charlie Freeman...oh boy. This book...I really am almost at a loss for words. Almost. But let's cut to the quick...I did not like this book. Nope. Not at all. I should have thrown it straight into the DNF pile. There was a gigantic eww factor that developed for me and the narrative just fell seriously flat. Nope. Big, fat pile of nope. Obviously, The Lauras takes this pairing. Library of Souls by Ransom Riggsvs.Ceremony by Leslie Silko Marmon Library of Souls is the final book in the Miss Peregrine series. It totally holds up the series. I stayed up super late to finish it because I just couldn't put it down. That is the sign of a delightful book. Riggs is a talented author and I very much enjoyed this conclusion to the series. I read Ceremony as an assigned book for an American literature course. It's a fantastically honest Native American historical fiction novel. It's painful and raw, but beautifully written. It's a political and social commentary, but still maintains an individualized feel. It's a great journey book. This was a good pairing, but there was an obvious winner from the start. For me, a book that keeps me from sleep is always a good one and a difficult one to beat in these circumstances. Library of Souls by Ransom Riggs takes the slot and heads on into further competition. A Secret Kept by Tatiana de Rosnayvs.Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert I read A Secret Kept because I had so loved de Rosnay's Sarah's Key. I think it suffered from the fact that I had read her prior work. A Secret Kept just felt okay. There wasn't a wow factor in any capacity. It read fine and had a decent plot, but the characters didn't feel fully fleshed out and the narrative was nowhere near as hard hitting as I expected. Again, having read Sarah's Key first, I really had a bar set that just wasn't reached. Big Magic was given to me by my sister-in-law. It's technically a self-help book, which had me leery at first, but don't let that label tarnish this one for you at all. The book stresses the individualism of creativity and the need to embrace the talent that may come from it. I found its message freeing and inspiring. That sounds completely lame to say, but it's totally true. This honestly is likely a book that could demand a reread every once in a while to refresh my belief in myself. Big Magic is going to take this bracket and push forward as a member of the Sweet Sixteen. Hollow City by Ransom Riggsvs.Snow Flower & the Secret Fan by Lisa See If you're someone who picks a book based on the cover, don't tell me you wouldn't stop and seriously consider Hollow City. The good news is that the book is just as fabulous as its cover. Hollow City is the second novel in the Miss Peregrine trilogy. It breaks the mold of the sad sequel, those books lacking in originality and spice, existing only to further the narrative and extend it to a third book. Nope. This one holds its own, baby. The world Riggs created in Miss Peregrine just continues to be marvelous in its strangeness. It's fabulously fun. Snow Flower & the Secret Fan is a historical fiction novel and it's heart wrenching. I was suuuuuper close to putting it in the DNF pile after struggling to get into it for a few months. But, it turns out that the issue wasn't the book...it was me. I just wasn't in the right place to appreciate it at the time. The second attempt was the winner. It's beautiful and real and the characters are just fantastic. I definitely anticipate that I will be reading more of Lisa See's work in the future. It was a close one in this case. Either of these two books could have easily taken the win and moved into the next section of eliminations. But...we all know the rules. Only one can win. And so, Riggs takes it again and Hollow City moves into the next round. We'll Always Have Summer by Jenny Hanvs.A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman We'll Always Have Summer is the concluding novel in Jenny Han's Summer trilogy. While it does have a decent ending (which is a small miracle), I did find that this one was a bit too predictable. I don't know if it's a matter of having stretched the series out for too long rather than reading the books back to back, but I just wasn't as enthralled as I had hoped to be. On the plus side, it was a quick and light read. Fitting for a summer based series, this one (as with its companions) would be a good beach read. A Man Called Ove was an adorable read. Seriously heartwarming, but also highly entertaining in Ove's quirkiness. Ove is a curmudgeon. He's grouchy with his neighbors and stuck in his ways. But he's also the cutest old man ever. He's a sweet widower in his own right, he just doesn't show that beyond his own private moments. This one would be a good book to revive someone out of a reading slump. Another easy choice. I loved Ove so, so much. He was just so incredibly well-written. Backman did a great job at developing a plot that served well to Ove's tedious nature without allowing the narrative to succumb to the same tendencies. A Man Called Ove will be moving on. WHEW! That was a long post and took me just about forever to write. But...we're through the hardest round in terms of volume. We now have sixteen books remaining in the running for my 2017 Book of the Year. Did your favorites make the cut? Inspired to add any new reads to your TBR? Think you know who will take the ultimate prize? Next up...the Elite Eight! This post originally appeared on Erratic Project Junkie and is copyrighted by Elle. Find EPJ on Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Goodreads

#Books #BOTY Bracket Challenge #BOTY2017

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