#and i just. gah. i feel so fucking horrible for crushing on him :(

[silverselfshippingchaos]

man... this crush is.. certainly something!

[toldentops]

talk about kinoga. NOW.

GAH I JUST THINK THEY ARE SO............. well first of all. they are so cute and handsome. look at them right now

Second of all I have one million feelings about them and it's barely an exaggeration. For those who aren't familiar, Kinoga is one of my beloved splatoon ocs and I think about them all the time. Originally made when I tossed a "what-if" idea about Trito, my first splatoon oc, who was once part of the octarian military, if he runs into one of the old squad members on the surface, and Kinoga was born with the help of @igneouskit. Brainworms ensue. its terminal. check out their toyhouse

(extremely brief rundown for those unfamiliar with splatoon lore the relevant bits are as follows: some octolings are part of a military that were forced underground after a war with the Inklings over land due to rising seas. At some point during the plot, the song Calamari Inkantation is sung by the two idols, which is apparently imbued in the DNA of all creatures and compels octolings to see the surface. In the splatoon 2 DLC, octo expansion, some octolings are recruited by a shady company called Kamabo Co, which entices participants to enroll in tests through a deep sea metro, and offers the "promised land" as a reward. Completing the tests entails collecting parts of a blender, and the "reward" is getting blended into sludge. This sludge can get injected into other octos which causes them to lose their will and consciousness ("sanitization").

timeline-wise much of their story takes place between splat 2, through octo expansion, and is currently in the splat 3 era. When they were still in the military, they ended up hearing the Calamari Inkantation like Agent 8 did. Kinoga and their squad were incredibly close to each other. Unwilling to just up and leave the underground but wanting to give their squadmates a better life, Kinoga hears about Kamabo's "promised land" and wants to seek it out, so they leave the squad to embark on the metros and promises to return. They do not <3 Some of the tests make them encounter sanitized octolings and they begin to question what's really happening in the metros. Their tipping point is when they run into Agara, one of their squadmates that decided to enter the metros to look for Kinoga and ends up being sanitized. Kinoga, facing the crushing realization that their squadmates had followed them, unaware of the danger, narrowly escapes being killed by Agara and eventually makes it to the surface.

This results in them experiencing a good amount of crushing guilt about leaving, they never knew it would lead to the possibility of dooming their whole squad that followed after them because they were loved and trusted. Kinoga had no way of letting the rest of them know that they should turn back and it's so. AAUGH. They have no choice but to continue on, finding life on the surface and eventually making it to splatsville with the belief that the rest of the squad may be gone. Agara and Trito end up running through the metro, Agara gets sanitized and Trito survives, albeit without getting a nasty scar from an accident that nearly got him sanitized.

Trito makes me insane also. he's my funny silly rabbit. I care about him so so much. trito goes through the metros, to maybe catch up with kinoga or meet them at the promised land, trusting that it was worth leaving if Kinoga decided it was worth it for all of them too.

Trito, upon learning about The Horrors in the metro later, realizes what could have happened to Kinoga and Agara and is unwilling to return to the rest of the squad with this knowledge, struck by the possibility that they're both gone. <-also has to realize that these horrible things have been happening to all the octlings that left to go do the metro tests. He too, eventually escapes to the surface and makes it to Inkopolis.

Years later, Trito, on a day trip to Splatsville, encounters Kinoga on the streets, and they lock eyes. and. fuck. They thought they were dead and had dealt with the grief and accepting that they were gone, effectively pushing those thoughts aside, and now they're physically in front of each other and they have to deal with it again. they make me SICK. Kinoga knowing that trito went to the metros and followed them and made it out also. Trito knowing that Kinoga experienced the horrors as well and survived. Neither of them able to return to tell the rest of the squad but they're both here, alive on the surface and aarrghhhhhhh. now they have to cope with this. they hastily exchange contact information, having to leave each other again, and end up meeting later to really catch up.

I'm so normal about kinoga and their relationship to trito post-domes. They don't even realize that they miss each other so much because they accepted that they were already gone. Seeing how much the other had changed. Being each other's only tie to their previous lives and it dawns on them that they never can move on from this. Kinoga struggles to tell Trito that they couldn't bring themselves to go back, not knowing if they could escape a second time, not knowing if any of their teammates were still left, already dealing with occasional spurts of being wracked by grief. Trito feeling the same, wanting to forget the terrible things and find happiness on the surface, but disheartened when learning that Kinoga also couldn't bring themselves to go back to look (though now that the both of them are together.....they do eventually muster the courage to go back to the domes to look for their old squadmates). It like. sucks so bad. They didn't intend to abandon their squad, but they were given circumstances where they just could not, and none of the other squad members could have known and suffer for it. aarghhhhh.

They end up at Trito's place, Kinoga and Trito end up being very affectionate towards each other after reuniting, definitely Trito being clingier...Compelled to hold onto each other and not let go, not after feeling so much regret about leaving in the first place. It's like. they left once before and terrible things happened out of their control, so they're allowed to hold each other as close as they can so it doesn't happen again (THE DEMONS) (GRIPS). it's irrational for Trito especially to think that he'll never see Kinoga again when they have to leave, since they live in separate cities and have to go in the morning. and kinoga knows it's irrational and they do their best to comfort him anyways because. who could blame him for wanting to keep them there after being gone for so long and so unexpectedly. The slow, crushing experience of not fully registering that someone could be gone and it creeps up to them until it hits. auuuuugh. they have to be so tender with each other, not really knowing where to take things afterwards but relishing in the moment of having each other there. riding the high of each other's comfort. fuck. this post is just getting worse as it goes. Trito breaking down in Kinoga's arms because he's had to hold in his grief and having nowhere to put it and then finally being able to release it. just being able to feel Something again. kinoga feeling so heartbroken to see trito like this, remembering that he was always so outspoken and smiling and having him curled up against them unable to say anything. holding him as tightly as they can. Feeling the need to take good care of him. They aren't his squad leader anymore but they still feel compelled to look out for him because then they can feel like they're doing at least something right. whatever. you guys get the gist. I'm way too much of a sucker for like...............pained intimacy. I'm down terrible. I think both of them deserve a little kissy and more. again. very touchy and affectionate with each other, I guess theyre still like "friends" (A WARRIOR'S BOND. OR WHATEVER) and are not "together" like a couple but here are words from igneouskit who put it better then I could ever. they love each other so much and they make me blow up. worlds most situationship

and also one bit I forgot to mention is that Trito has a huge scar on his chest that he hates talking about, it just brings back the fear and pain felt when he got it, and by association reminds him that he's alone from his squad who may never see again, so he's very protective of it. Upon getting back to kinoga, they do find out about the scar accidentally, and Trito lets them. like auuuugh they were so familiar with each other and now get to see what's changed since the last time. exploring eachother's bodies. whatever

Kinoga also ends up feeling really guilty at some point for Trito being immediately so affectionate towards them, they harbor thoughts that they don’t deserve it after having him go through that pain, and trito having to tell them that he made his own decision, nobody was forcing him to go, and besides, did it to see kinoga and now that they’re right in front of him he can give him all the love he’s been holding for them. Auuughhhh. Like don’t worry about feeling guilty for it. It wasn’t their fault. What matters to him now is that they’re both alive and with each other. I feel like blowing up

Even after Kinoga goes back to splatsville the next day trito is still aches about them......like a few days of reunion could never be enough to compensate for the years that they spent apart. every time they meet up after that trito jumps in kinoga's arms and kiss them like it was the first time they'd reunited

anyways. they eventually go back down to the domes to find the others. By that time, Agent 8 had dismantled Kamabo, the Sludge shit was no longer in operation, and octolings have started going to the surface. Kanu, another squad member, left the domes to find Kinoga, Agara, and Trito(jilon was another squad member who left for reasons I haven't decided yet). Denchu, the last remaining member, stayed behind, holding on to the hope that the missing members would someday return (denchu is a whole other can of worms. theyre everything to me and I feel so terrible for them <3). Trito and kinoga meet denchu, they update them on everybody else, leaving agara unaccounted for. Kinoga, who was the only one to see Agara firsthand, knowing that she might be completely unsalvageable, hesitates to bring it up, but Trito insists on going to look for her. aughhh. kinoga wants to spare trito the pain of seeing her dead or unconscious. They do eventually find her </3

She is alive, but not doing well at all, Kinoga desperate to maybe find some way to undo sanitization and restore her to full health, knowing full well that it may not be possible. They take Agara back with them to the surface and Kinoga spends a lot of time agonizing again over having caused this, feeling that agara's state is somehow their fault (ITS NOTT they're beating themselves up so bad for this because they feel responsible for the squad. aughhh).

I think thats all I have for kinoga. for now. obviously there are more thoughts I can get into but currently my brain has just latched so hard on trito and kinoga's fun situation and I love them so much. didn't think I'd get attached to them this bad but here we are </3. I hope everyone who has read this far also enjoys them as much as I do

[newbornwhumperfly]

no place to run and no gasoline…

behold, a shiny new chapter for whumptober, i sure hope nothing horrible happens to anyone…😈😈😈🥺🥺🥺

whumptober 2024 • race against the clock | panic attack | “if only we could hold on”

CW: head injury, panic attack, near-death experience, dissociation, allusions to murder

title insp. by “stay alive” by josé gonzález

~

In movies, there’s always lots of blood. Not the little scrapes you get bashing a knee or an elbow or even a nasty bonk in the face. Onscreen. it’s bright and cheerful and gooey and it’s fun to imagine someone tossing a bucket of red paint on the actor. Strawberry syrup dripping off someone’s bashed lips. Food coloring pouring out of the nose. 

This isn’t a movie. 

And Claud’s head won’t stop bleeding.

And that scream can’t be him. Right? Just like the body falling into his arms can’t be Claud. It can’t be? She’s so tough, she’s so solid, she can’t be light in his arms, scooped up, pressed against his chest, her head can’t be so light when it thumps against his chest and the red pooling against his shirt can’t be anything but strawberry syrup and that high pitch of crying can’t be him?

He pitches, back and forth, dizzy, watching the spot on his shirt get bigger and bigger, and a hand grips over his elbow. Red-coated, sticky, strong. Bracing. 

Morja. Oh, fuck, Morja. His whole side red from carrying her. 

“Morja,” Cobi wails and it cracks and breaks and echoes through the tunnel. Long, concrete, carrying his sob far away, and the underground they are seems to crush in on his chest. He grabs back, clutching in the dark, gasping through the press of dark, blood, cold, all around them, his fingers slipping, scrambling, at Morja’s arm. “Claud, buddy, don’t fall asleep, pleaseClaudMorjawhat’swrongplease?-“

“Steady her head.”

“W-What?-“

Morja’s face, Cobi can’t make it out, it’s dark, so dark down here in these maintenance tunnels. Cobi’s headlamp flickering with how someone’s head is shaking the light all over the place and Cobi’s eyes are fucking blurred and the spot where Claud’s head is against his chest is wet and hot and oh no- 

The hand grips harder on his elbow, cups over his wrist, oh, okay, Morja is cupping one hand behind Claud’s head, her hair is so wet, all her curls are stuck together, glued to his hand. Morja forms it, a cup around the back of her head. 

“To steady, anotéros. Hold her to your chest t-to keep her head steady.” 

Morja’s voice doesn’t even echo, flat and cold, so quiet, and Cobi fucking clings to it. Fuck, fuck, fuck, his arms tighten, brace, under Claud’s legs (too limp) and her head (too bloody) against where he’s gasping, panting, fuck, that’s Claud, she’s bleeding?

“Gah, okay, ‘kay- I gotcha, Claud?”

A gurgled murmur makes Cobi heave a strangled sob again. Claudia, oh please, g-d, no? His hand is so big around her head, her head shouldn’t look so little? It’s not right. Claud’s quiet. That’s not right.

His eyes shoot up, the low light of their headlamps making Morja’s face a narrow shadow, streaked with red. 

“Get us out of here?” Cobi’s breath quivers in his lungs and he’s never felt smaller, less big, than this. 

But Morja nods. 

It’s like a fucking story, like a fairytale, but fucked all the way up, the way Morja leads them out of the tunnel, the way Cobi’s feet thud, long steady stable strides against the concrete. But aren’t all fairytales fucked-up? It didn’t feel this long getting down here. 

Follow the bobbing light of Morja and his lamp ahead, hold his friend, his friend, in his arms and walk, as fast as you can run without bumps, without hurting her, Claud is hurt. 

“Should- run- can’t hold her steady and run?-“

“Getting out is more important.”

How long has it been? It felt like an hour, it felt like barely that, sneaking slowly to not make noise. Was it really an hour to tiptoe down this tunnel to hell? Was it really the beginning of the day that they all got here, sneaking in, underground, for confirming a good checkpoint to sneak information?

What did they come here for that was so important?

Claud is bleeding, in his arms, and what could be so important? 

All he can do is heave breaths that sound like sobs he’s never made before and the burn in his arms is nothing, it’s nothing, she’s a sack of potatoes, she’s the most precious thing in the world. His side is sharp, he doesn’t care, his shoulders burning and he doesn’t care.

It hurts to breathe, he can’t breathe, but that’s nothing. His chest hitches and it’s fine, it’s fine cause it’s all steady, his fastfastfast crying isn’t gonna jostle Claud, he’s got her, doesn’t he? 

He can hold her. Please. She can hold on. Please. They can get out of here. 

Cobi’s neck cranes, cheek pressing against the top of Claud’s head, the soft cloud sinking all the way down to her scalp, hard and solid and not the wet part, and he holds her in place with all of his body.  

“Please hold on? Please, gotcha, girl, please hang on, gonna be o-okay-“

It’s faster, minutes, maybe - is a half hour a minute, a day - before the tunnel narrows, narrows, slopes upwards, into orange light spilling in from above. Cobi breaking ahead, emerging, gasping deep, crisp air. Up into tall grasses as high as a shoulder, wind on their faces. Cobi staggers, spins on the spot, skin feels sticky, face and hands all dry and crackling. 

“Need- need to check the- the perimeter, right? Are- we gotta do that?” He’s scrambling for what to do as he kicks at the debris, the discarded cardboard and plywood and bullshit covering their car, hidden in the ditch what feels like forever ago? “Don’t- gotta watch for, um, people coming for us-“

“There won’t be.”

Morja stalks up out of the black mouth in the ground, soft-footed, quiet. His red hands gripping his knives, long and black and curving and dripping strawberry syrup. Drip, drip, drip. Breadcrumb trail behind him into the tunnels. 

His face is nothing, it’s nothing, flat as stone, and red-all-over. A burst of cold wind whips across the field and Cobi shivers. No birds cry out here, no bugs, only pant and whimper and Claud’s broken groan. 

Where is Jorah? Where’s Sarai, where’s the Captain, where’s- No. there’s nobody out here. There’s nobody but them. Nobody but this guy, who’s barely more than a stranger, who’s somehow a friend, who carried his dangling partner half around his neck with blood on both of them. 

One of them a civilian, college basketballer, tank in title, an ox to lift heavy shit. One of them a soldier. bloody and calm, pounded through a meat-grinder to be this. 

“…C…C’b?”

“Shhh, I’m here, gonna be so okay, it’s gonna be okay. Gotta-“ So much blood, looks down at her and her eyes flick side-to-side, flutter, roll back her eyelids and Cobi springs across the distance between the two of them and his wail breaks the silence to pieces.

“Morja, help?” 

Those dark eyes flick up, no light in them, and when Morja reaches for her, Cobi can’t help but draw back, clutching her tighter. A whimper crawls out of his throat, eyes burning, streaming, they haven’t really stopped. That’s Claudia, it’s his best girl, she’s important. 

“Yes, anotéros.” Is the whisper that greets him and some of that black-slate-dullness shifts and Cobi heaves a sob as he watches Morja snick the blades back into their leg-sheath, as he glances up, up.

A blurring bundle of getting the trunk open, laying down the backseat, precious stupid fucking time as Morja crawls into the back and holds out his arms. Cobi can’t help sobbing careful as he feeds Claud into the embrace, handing over a piece of his body on a plate. But Morja’s red-flecked arms take the weight, bracing, steady, lowering her down to the carpet as red puddles there too. 

She’s small, small as him, and it hits him how Morja is small, how they’re both small, and how can that be? 

“Fuck- gonna be okay, Claud, please stay with me, that’s it, yeah- scoot over, get in front?- Claud, we’re getting you out of here-“

“You need to drive.”

“No- no, no, no way, I’m holding her.”

“I can’t drive.”

“Stop, Morja, man, don’t argue, please, it’s gotta be you driving us out of here!-“

“I can’t.”

“YES, yes you fucking can, you CAN, Morja, fuck, let me IN-“

“I. Don’t. Know how.”

Cobi’s shadow cuts across the two of them and Morja’s hands are cupped over Claud’s head and in the screaming he has already somehow squished a balled-up something to her hurt and it’s reddening.

Oh. 

Fuck.

Fuck this fuck this fuck this.

“Anotéros.” 

Cobi’s eyes blur and burn. 

“Sh- Claudia doesn’t have time.”

Please, g-d, don’t let her die.

“Be careful.” Cobi wrenches out, chest heaving as he drags the trunk closed, as he pulls himself away, somehow, into the driver’s seat, somehow grips the steering wheel with slippery palms, fuck, swipes them over and over on his pants, big drops splashing down on the streaks. 

Sticky red jam. 

He doesn’t know how he stops heaving, he definitely isn’t not fucking sobbing, but the rearview mirror shows Morja’s legs stretched out around Claud, bracing her in. Shows his arms stiff and stable as they hold her head stable. Shows his hands, red as they are, gripping Claud’s head, curly and precious and holding all of her in it, like the stem of something glass. Cobi’s hands stop shaking, the slick fumble over buttons finding what he needs, his sobs slow, they slow.

The balled-up thing Morja is soaking up her blood with is his own jacket. 

It’s that which Cobi know he can gun it, send this compact little monster of a car barrel up through the ditch, onto the flatland, grinding up dust to swallow up the nightmares behind them. It’s the way Morja doesn’t tip or jerk or tumble with the swaying of the rocketing car that makes Cobi know, somehow, know that Claud’s not spilling everywhere either. If Morja won’t fall, Claud won’t. 

“Stay with me, honey,” Cobi croaks, sobs crushing out of his lungs but his hands firm on the wheel. “Don’t die, don’t you dare die, just gotta get you home.”

~

do not fret, gentle readers, this is the first part of an arc, so, stay tuned for further suffering 🥺🥺🥺💖💖💖

taglist: @much-ado-about-whumping @haro-whumps @whump-tr0pes @i-eat-worlds @suspicious-whumping-egg

@whumpthisway @wolfeyedwitch @redwingedwhump @straight-to-the-pain @whumpzone

@stoic-whumpee @liliability @whump-me-all-night-long @whumping-every-day

@thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whatgoeswhumpinthenight @tears-and-lilies @kixngiggles @scoundrelwithboba

[viovio]

hi as my saw mutual i have a question :) if u have seen all of them, whats ur ranking from worst to best? or out of the ones youve seen if u havent seen all of them :)

ACK OMG IM SORRY I GOT TO THIS LATE BUT TEEHEE ALRIGHT!! (i haven't seen jigsaw and spiral yet but i know what happens in it!!)

SPOILERS DOWN BELOW!!!!!

7. Saw 3D.... it has some of the most brutal traps but it's not getting any points for the horrible misogyny really :/ it's the only movie where i actively skipped parts (which were the frustrating scenes of having the main guy fuck up and save some of his team AND BLAME THEM. AND GOD THE LAST PART JUST UGH) i won't lie though lawrence is so fun in this one like he would not do that! i believe it though go cary elwes give me everything (and hoffinator)

6. Saw 5, i don't understand the hate for this one I actually really liked the fatal 5!! and the opening with strahm was just so cool but the cuts back to him investigating hoffman were just... eh! didn't care. the ending though was pretty sick. i love how the movies treat it like a series because they always start from where they left off in classic camera flashing fashion.

5.. Saw 6 (LOL), the plot really intrigued me with watching william's pain alongside him only for it to be all crushed because nothing could change the fact that you run a health insurance company with treating people's lives like a game! and like, what tara said did get me thinking because yea no matter the torture are you really sure he's changed? hes probably profited enough from his company that he could reasonably stop but i feel like the employee deaths would bank in more family insurance somehow lmfao.

4. Saw 4, OK NOW WE'RE GETTING SOMEWHERE rigg was the only main guy i was invested in out of all of them, sucks that he's a cop but damn the journey and game and atmosphere in this one was just excellent!! the opening confused me a bit for sure but it made sense later. this is where we begin hoffman's saga (guy himself is mid but hes funny) after amanda (HEARTTTT FOREVER) and john's death! and even though I don't like the guy himself the mindfuck of this movie and the rigging (heh. get it) was pretty solid)

3. Saw 3, man. ok. Amanda's true spotlight. It's frustrating to watch jeff's segment itself at times but his story's pretty tragic. Don't get me started on Lynn the fucking tension is insane but coming from a guy who hasn't watched medical dramas before this comes pretty close. After saw 2 you finally see Amanda's hope die alone with the lies John fed her it's great. Imo this movie was a great way to wrap up their tragedy!

2. Saw, they've been in that bathroom for 18 slutty slutty years and you feel that budget so hard. It's so claustrophobic but you can see why it's a classic, and rewatching it is just so GAH LIKE YOU KNOWWWWW BUT YOU STILL WANT TO SAVE HIM LIKE OPENING A FRIDGE AND EXPECTINF SOMETHING DIFFERENT. s great but some people says it drags on for a bit, i personally don't mind! The pacing gets real confusing at times though and repetitious

1. SAW 2 BABYYYYYYYYYYYGGGGY🎉🎉🎉🎉 OK AMANDAS FIRST SPOTLIGHT AND THE INTRODUCTION ON GROUP GAMES IN THE SERIES HOOORAYYYYYYYYYY oh my god mandy.its getting so fucking late and what i say here's been said before but *opens brain and it's just buzzing static

[lstories]

Noah's perspective: Life Under The Sea

4 story's in the works and 2 more I'm still drafting and I decided I'll make a new story and complete it first. I love mer story's and mer vore story's so I wanted to try one were the mer is the tiny. I Read a story a while back that I heavily baced this one off of but couldn't find it again, if anyone knows it could you tell me so I could link it.

(Safe, soft, vore, willing prey, semi willing pred, cursing, tw blood, tw alcohol, tw panic attacks. Sounds worse than it is)

Word Count: 4,589

"This is going to sting a little"

"GAAH! That was more than a sting and you know it"

"There is only four more shots to go, your doing great"

"ONLY!"

Noah was freaking out, one of his biggest fears was the ocean and he was being sent down to the depths on an exploratory mission to see what was taking out all the drones and to set the first colony underwater. He was a military jet pilot, this was the last thing he should be doing, even for disciplinary actions. They call it a joy ride for a reason and he wasn't the only person involved so why was he the only one being punished this harshly. He looked out the window and saw the waves, no land in sight. Noah felt like he was going to vomit.

"Why do I need shots anyway, I'm going to the depth of the corAL FOREST! GAH! Give me a warning! FUCK THAT HURTS!

"It only hurts beacuse you're tense, just relax"

"Relax! I-I can't just... it's not that simple!"

"Here, just breathe, listen to the waves"

He did as the nurse said, he listened to the waves crash against the ship. Could he feel the ship rocking faster? Were the waves getting louder? A sharp pain in his back brought him back to reality.

"JESUS! That doesn't help at all"

"Just find something that makes you calm cause I'm getting tired of trying to be a good nurse"

"Just tell me about the shots, what are they supposed to do while I'm down there. J- AAHH! FUCK"

"God your a wimp. (sigh) The extreme pressure underneath will be extremely pressing and will collapse your body without proper training. As a pilot your training should help you stay underwater for an extended period of time, even if your outside your suit for whatever reason. There will still be things we or you cant control without these injections though. The extreme pressure will aid in the genesis process we are subjecting you to and will allow you to stay underwater for an extended period of time without injury and could potentially increase life expectancy, muscle and tissue generation, mussels and tissue durability and flexibility, sight, hearing, touch, taste, smell and a decrease in hunger and digestive abilities allowing you to go days with a full stomach from food you ate last week. If you decide to continue past your one year stay the effects would only continue to be enhanced without further genetic engineering. If and most likely when you come back up, you would have muscle and bone density strong enough to move a car and barely break a sweat. Please look over to the cat poster"

"What caAA-... helped a bit, your talking helped a bit"

"You're all set, please leave and put on the wet suit then go to the drop pod."

"Ya, thanks for the-"

"Leave"

"Yep"

Noah walked down the corridors of the ship, passing closed doors and soldiers in military uniforms. Eventually he came by his room and walked in. He didn't have much in his room but then again he was only staying on the ship for one night before he would be sent down into the ocean. He looked out the window and it finally dawned on him that this was the last time he was going to be above water for possibly over a year. His mind started to race as his breath quickened, he wasn't ready for this. He walked further into his room and steadied himself on the table, his breathing started to get shakey as he vividly thought about every tiny thing that could go horribly wrong. The windows in the ship could shatter, or they might land unevenly and get stuck in the drop pod. He glanced to the mini fridge and stumbled over to it, catching himself and forcing himself not to curl up on the ground. He opened the small fridge, he felt the wave of cool air wash over him, he realized how much sweat was pouring off him before he reached into the back, pulling out a beer from a six pack, it was the last one. He idly flicked the cap with the nail of his thumb as sat down on his bed and closed his eyes, he hasn't had a drink in over a decade but the minor actions calmed him anyway. His nail was already going white with scratch marks and the tip of his thumb started bleading as the cap started to tear away at the scab that formed from the past few days of him doing this. He slowly opened his eyes, his hands were shaking and blood was spilling down his wrist and the neck of the bottle. He got up and threw the whole bottle away, he walked into the bathroom and bent over the sink, just trying to hold himself up.

Noah held the hand that was bleading to steady it and washed it off, he fumbled around the cabinet above the sink for something. Noah had no idea what he was looking for, there was this awful noise in his ears and he couldn't focus. He shook his head to clear the voice before auctly paying attention to what he was looking for. He grabbed the gauze and small tube of neosporin and stared applying it to his thumb. After a few seconds of calming himself down he looked in the mirror, right over his shoulder and to the garbage can. They weren't allowing anyone with anything above a 0.0 BAC underwater so that was a good thing, or a horrible thing depending on how you looked at it. Noah wished he could break his promise and grab that beer out of the trash, but he couldn't, he wouldn't break his promise, no matter how much he didn't want to go. Noah sat there for a few minutes, he didn't think, he didn't talk, he just stared at himself. His golden blond hair was a scraggly, matted mess from all his sweat and he was starting to grow a thin stubble of a beard that was just as golden as his hair. Unfortunately for him they didn't allow razors or any sort of non military accepted knife on the ship either. His eyes didn't help his look, a deep and uncanny looking brown was where his iris should be. Not a normal or pretty brown, not even ugly brown but something that looked like every color mixed together improperly somehow. He took one last look over himself before speaking. "What would she think of you now" he shallowly laughed at himself before returning to his bed.

On the pillow was a small case about the size of his palm. He opened it and pulled put a small black roll that he looked over for a few seconds. They said it would be on his bed when he returned but this couldn't be it, could it? He ran his non bleading thumb over it until his nail caught something. He pinched the small little clip and let it unfurl, it just kept rolling and rolling, eventually it split off into three different rolls and the middle one split again into two more. Eventually it stoped, it was deffenetly a suit but it was way to thin, he gently rubbed part of it between his fingers and it gave way much more easily than he thought it would. It started to fill with air and expand horizontally as it stretched to his proportions. It was a thin black suit with orange around the wrists and face. He slipped into it, taking much longer than it should of before he took of. He ran down the hallway, he was deffenetly late as he passed more and more empty room's. He wanted to hide, he wanted to run back to his room and sleep it away but it was either this or he was fired.

He turned a corner and almost ran into the general, immediately turning and running into the small line of people and found a spot. A scientist walked over and handed him a glass plate and some gloves. Noah immediately put the gloves on and held the glass plate under his arm like everyone else. The colonel stated to talk and Noah immediately started to drift off, he didn't care what he was saying and he'd let his subconscious remember everything for him. Somthing about new technologies, making a new world under the old, and unknown life forms. Eventually everyone put on there masks and Noah followed suit, putting it on. The orange--- whatever the suit was made out of extended and gripped the small glass plate and stuck it to his face. After a while and more nonsense talking a few people were taken away by the scientists. After a bit of silence everyone was guided onto the drop pod, luckily it didn't have any windows and Noah felt a bit happier about that.

There was about eight people left overall, some crying, some talking to others and some sleeping like Noah. After a bit (and a quick nap) a bunch of metal clanks were heard above them as everything became a little lighter. It took over four hours to finally hit the bottem, small bumps of flesh on metal and loud echoing scratches were occasionally heard on the way down. Almost everyone was silent for the entire trip, everyone was on high alert the entire way down. When everyone got up and started to bustle around to grab supplies, Noah still sat in some form of shock. He eventually got up, and walked to the wall, a small black pack with his name and the word scavenger printed underneath. "Great, just great" he said as he walked to the pressure chamber and let the water start flowing in around him. His mind immediately betrayed him, his suit could be flawed and he'd drown, his training might not come in handy and he would be crushed, or there could be a monster outside that was already killing the rest of his team. He could feel a dribble of sweat rundown his face as the door opened.

He slightly walked/stumbled outside once the door was open. It was a sight to behold, people were already setting up futuristic buildings with a small handheld printers, others were already picking up scrap metal and other things then scanning them with some type of other small gun and they disappeared into nothingness. Noah took a step forward, he wasn't ready for a small bounce when he set his foot back down. He slightly swayed his arms and swam a bit. He slowly fell back to the ground and laughed a bit, maybe this wouldn't be so bad. He looked over to someone on top of the drop pod attaching lights to the top, as one turned on he saw a group of three people holding futuristic rifles and shoulder mounted plasma cannons. Past them was the coral forest, deep blue coral taller than some trees on the surface were growing strait from the ground and if Noah wasn't mistaken, the glowing rainbow swirling up the coral was algae. He took his focus off them and reached into his pack, it almost seamed like it fused with his suit. He grabbed a small device from the pack and studied it for a while. It looked like half of a gun, something he should combine with something else. Looking back the saw the people talking the scrap also had the same gun, he put two and two together and started looking for something to use it on. Eventually he found a small piece of a ship wreck and scanned it, the light shining over the piece of orange metal was intriguing to Noah and he watched the small piece of metal disappear into a small stream of bubbles. He watched the bubbles rise and rise... and rise. His breath started to quicken as he remembered he was underwater. He fell to a knee and clutched his sides, he could feel his heart beating against his ribs. This was going to be a long year.

Time skip: 1 Month Later

Noah was starting to get used to the ocean. His panic attacks had almost come to a complete halt as he stopped thinking about where he was. If he didn't move his limbs to fast he could almost picture it as a different planet, say for the lack of stars in the pitch black sky. Everyone started to make there own houses and buildings, the infrastructure of a city was already starting to appear. There has only been one known casualty, a man was on a scavenging run and fell into a magma chamber. The suits were designed to be able to take the heat of magma and it did, the suit was undamaged. Unfortunately that guy didn't like to wear gloves and the heat spread threw his hands to the rest of his body like a conductor. The exploration team that went into the corral forest also never came back and were presumed MIA and no more manned explorations were allowed into the forest. Noah was now the only scavenger left as his team all started to do what they were higherd to do, and his team needed supply's. Luckily their radars found an old German U boat that he could scavenge, unluckily it was on the edge of the corral forest and a two day's trip to get there.

Noah set out, his pack still had some rations and regular food after all this time. He didn't think that this food would last him a month let alone a year but he barely had to eat anything. He was running on an empty stomach for the past few days and he wasn't hungry at all. He walked along the edge of the coral forest, the higher ups didn't want anyone going in or over the forest, and Noah didn't want to go threw it either. He had to admit though that it was beautiful, large deep blue trees with a rainbow algae spiraling up the trees and over the branches. He kept walking, a few sharks and other aquatic species that he he didn't recognize tried to bite at him. The suit was a perfect defense against what seemed to be everything in the ocean as nothing could penetrate it. Soon Noah was getting tired, he tried to think of a place to sleep, the algae on the trees was soft and he could pull some sand over him to keep the currents from blowing him away. He walked a little bit further along the edge of the forest while trying to find an overly fluffy tree to sleep on. He's been seeing a commotion every so often in the distance, but he wasn't expecting to have something long and blue to come flying out of the forest and under his arm with a shark following suit.

The shark bit at Noah's arm, the small blue fish pressing itself tighter against his Noah's side. Noah tried to fight off the shark, eventually pushing it away and punching it in the nose. The shark swam off into the black of the ocean, the small blue creature still trembling under his arm. He reached under his arm to shoo away whatever was there, the small creature darted under his other arm. He finally got a look at the size, it had to be at least half his arm span. He raised both of his arms and the small creature darted around his body, eventually curling itself around his neck. For a second Noah thought he was going insane, were those tiny hands on the back of his neck? He tried gently shooing the thing away from his neck, it wasn't pressing down hard enough to choke him but it wasn't something he was too comfortable with having. Eventually it got the memo and started unfurling itself from his neck and gently swam up to his face. It couldn't be, a tiny peron was floating in front of him. Light blue almost glowing hair and a slightly blue tinted body, it looked like it had scales at its waist. He followed it down and saw what looked like an eel tail, slowly retreating from Noah's neck.

The little person approached his face plate and pressed his hands on it, Noah only gave a confused look in response. He had to be dreaming, this couldn't be real, could it? The eel slowly backed away from him and full force rammed the face plate with its shoulder. Noah slightly jumped at what it was doing and gently grabbed the eel. It slightly wriggled in his grasp as before Noah tried to speak to it "what do you think your doing, your going to break your arm" the small eel looked up at him dumbfounded. After a bit of silence the eel finally responded with a few clicks and chirps while rubbing its arm. Noah was confused to say the least, he let the tiny go and held out his palm for it to sit in, instead it wrapped itself around his wrist and squished its hands into the orange fabric next to the gloves. Noah lightly chuckled to himself "all right, you can sleep there for the night" he walked over to the nearest tree and laid down on it. He silently scooped some sand onto himself with his free hand, the tiny looked up at him confused. Noah gently ran a finger down the tinyes back "your freezing" he whispered as he held the tiny eel person to stomach. After a bit the Noah started to drift off, the eel was not having that, it got up and started pulling on Noah's finger.

Noah opened his eyes back up to see the tiny struggling with all it's might to bring Noah somewhere. Noah reluctantly got up and followed the tiny, the glowing hair keeping it in sight at all times. It darted around the darkness of the ocean and back to Noah to make sure he was following. Noah kept at a steady pace to keep up with the tiny. He almost wanted to lay on the ground and sleep there. Eventually they reached a cliff face, the tiny followed along the edge of the wall. Noah looked back, the forest wasn't very far away and he never knew this cliff face was here. The small eel zig zaged across the bottem of the cliff face, Noah kept up with the tiny, confused and tired the entire time. Soon the glowing hair disappeared under the ground, Noah freaked out and ran over to where the tiny disappeared and bent down ready to start digging at the ground. He reached his hands down too fast and his whole body fallowed into a hole. It didn't take him long for his back to hit the side of a slope and for him to see a bit of orange light illuminating a tunnel in front of him. The tiny eel swam up to him and pressed itself against his faceplate, Noah immediately grabbed the tiny by its waist. It pushed against his fingers and chirped at him angrily but he wasn't going to let it go, not if it was going to scare him like that again. He shuffled forward threw the tunnel, he had to hunch his back to get threw it.

Soon the tunnel opened up into a cave, it went down a bit but it was almost a perfect sphere. There were small metal bolts and bottle caps on the walls and other miscellaneous items strewn about. He finally let the tiny go and it shoved itself threw a long PVC pipe with an angel connector at the top. A bit of its tail was hanging out the bottom as it rested its head on its arms. There was a slight suction near his foot and a light feeling of flowing water over his back. Noah looked up to see the source of the light, there was a hole with an edge to the water above him. He stood up and looked around for a bit, the cave extended out even further, it was huge. He lifted his arms out of the water and pulled himself up out of the hole with more ease than he should have been able to. The top of the ceiling had a glowing orange moss and neer the hole he came out of was a small water fall that had some warm water flowing into the small underwater cave. The walls had a green moss that was fluffy to the touch and the ground was smoothed over and barely damp. A small splash and some angry chirping grabbed his attention. The tiny was trying to reach for his heel and chirping the entire time. Noah reached his hand into the water, slightly swishing his fingers next to the tiny. The tiny immediately coiled itself around his wrist and rested it's back on his palm.

Noah scooted over over to one of the walls, he saw the tiny breathing, its chest was moving quickly as it just stared up at him. Noah took his mask off and took in a deep breath, before pulling the small hood off his head. It almost smelled like mint in the cave, what was this stuff. The tiny on his hand started chirping instantly, Noah looked down as it made grabby hands at his face. Noah brought the tiny closer to his face and it immediately pressed its hands into his cheeks. It ran it's hands over his lips before trying to part them. Noah took the tiny away from his mouth once it put a hand on his teeth, it looked confused before it started chirping again. It looked sad that it wasn't able to look into Noah's mouth. He moved it back into the water, it tried climbing back up his arm before slipping. Noah immediately reached under the tiny to catch it. The tiny layed down for a few seconds before scrambling over and hugging Noah's thumb. Noah brought it higher into the air, the tinyes tail was dangling from between his pointer and middle finger. It looked down at the ground a little frightened before looking back up to Noah with the same waiting look.

Noah slowly dipped the eel part back into the water, the tiny quickly wrapped itself around his fingers in response. Noah held it back in the air, he was staring to get tired of its antics. He staired at the tiny in his hands with a disappointed look on his face, as he got a better look at the small person he realized it looked younger than he'd orginally thought, almost like a young teenager. Looking closer at its facial structure he could almost be certain it was male. As he looked over it, he saw it's small eyes were almost as blue as its hair and he realized it was crying. Why would it be crying, he hadn't hurt it had he? Noah looked it over, there were no bruises or scratches he could see so why was it crying. It started making the grabby hands back at Noah's face, he reluctantly brought it closer to his eyes. It started him in the eyes for a few seconds before it scooted closer to the edge of his hand. It tried reaching for his lips again, Noah thought about it. It really wanted to be eaten, the doctor said that it takes longer to digest food so maybe it would be safe. Noah's eyes were getting heavy, he needed to sleep. As he thought harder on it he realized it was either this or probably more angry chirping for the rest of the night. He saw the tears on the tiny practically disappear when he brought it closer to his mouth.

He thought he could hear a choked sob when he opened his mouth, the tiny practically jumped for it. He extended his tounge over his teath so it wouldn't get hurt. Tiny hands tried to grip the edges of his toung and pull it forward. Noah thought it almost tasted like berries, sure there was the salt of the ocean but he didn't expect to taste berries. The tiny tried to force itself down his throat, Noah almost gagged at the feeling and slightly dragged the tiny back over his tounge. The tiny started to tremble in his hands and on his tongue, the salty flavor was getting more prevalent. The tiny wrapped its arms around his tounge, quite chirping came from it. He could tell it was starting to cry again, this is what it really wanted wasn't it. He pressed the tiny up against the roof of his mouth and slightly tasted it, he hadn't had anything sweet in a month and this was probably going to be the best he would get for a while. The tiny dragged itself forward a bit more. Noah could feel the movement in his hands as the eel tail moved, he wasn't too excited about that part. The tiny moved closer to the back of this throat, Noah wanted to get that last bit of the sweet flavor before he gulped it down. The tiny was too far back in Noah's throat now, he instinctively swallowed when it pressed a hand into the back of his neck.

The berry taste was gone, it was just the salty sea water, luckily it didn't taste like fish. He lightly pressed a finger to his neck, the small wriggling bump slowly glided down his neck and past his collarbone. He gulped again and again before lifting the edge of the tail to his eye level. The torso entered his stomach and it almost immediately started rubbing at his stomach walls. It felt nicer than he thought it would, was his stomach always this sensitive? More of the eel part slipped into his stomach and the tip of the tail entered his mouth. He gently scooped it up with his tongue before closing his mouth. He swallowed one last time and tilted his head back to let gravity do the rest of his work. He rested his head back into the moss and his hands protectively over his gut. He could still fell the cold of the tail slowly moving along the rest of his throat. His stomach was comfortably cold and he gently rubbed his hands over it. He looked down and- jeez his stomach was huge. Noah didn't know his stomach could fit this much of anything. It started to move as rubbed a little harder, the small coils pressing every nerve in his stomach as it slid around. Noah made a small groan, it didn't feel bad but he just wasn't ready for this much of stimulation. He could feel the tinyes form gently press itself into his hand and rub back. He could hear a few gentle clicks as he rested his head back into the moss and closed his eyes. The amount off stimulation in his stomach along with the feeling of being over full quickly drifted him back to drowsiness. One final thought left his mind as he fell asleep 'mabye it wouldn't be so bad to stay more than a year'.

[lukneetoonz]

Oblivious

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Summary: You’re in love with a boy who thinks you’d never love him… what happens when he overhears you talking about him?

Pairing: Shinsou x Female!reader

Warnings: Angst, cussing, but it’s coot I promise

Word Count: 2,244

A/N: Been in a funk lately and don’t know what to write! Ask box is open for suggestions!

NO ARTWORK POSTED IS MY OWN AND IS FOUND ON PINTEREST

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Lilacs, the smell of coffee and lavender, and the sounds of video games were all things that reminded you of the boy that you admired. Your friends called it love, but you called it a silly crush, because how can you love someone who doesn’t love you? Shinsou Hitoshi was always on your mind, even if he didn’t do anything to be on it, you just couldn’t get him out. It didn’t help that you guys were best friends, for that is what Shinsou continuously calls your relationship. Seemingly reminding you that you’re nothing but his friend, someone for him to go to when he doesn’t have anyone else. You were a placement holder, and that hurt.

Snapping fingers in front of your face brought you out of your thoughts, your eyes meeting a group of concerned ones. “Y/N… we hate seeing you look so sad. Why don’t you take Mina up on that offer and go on a blind date?” Uraraka spoke softly to you, almost like her words could send you crashing down at any moment. Shaking your head you groaned and rubbed your face, “But I can’t! I can’t go on a date when I can’t get him out of my head… it’s not fair to the other person. I’m not just going to use someone to get over another…” your words only made the girls frown deeper.

Mina stood up abruptly and put her hands on her hips as she raised her eyebrows at you, “I just don’t see it. Honestly Y/N! You could have any guy in our class- scratch that, our grade, yet you’re sitting here because this crazy haired asshole can’t see how amazing you are!” Her words made you blush as you huff and hug yourself, looking away, none of you aware that there was now an extra set of ears on your private conversation. “You guys don’t get it! He’s so- gah! I can’t even put it into words. No one comments on how Uraraka is crushing on Midoriya!”

Momo smiled sadly as Uraraka fell on the floor covering her red face, “Because they’re both too awkward and shy to admit their feelings when it’s both obvious they like each other. It’s like they’re dating, but aren't. It’s also because Midoriya isn’t emotionally constipated” Momo stated simply but elegantly as the others nodded along as you blushed, and felt aggravation bubble inside you. But just beyond the common room and in the hallway stood shinsou, back against the wall as he tried to quiet his breathing, wanting to find out more about the crush of the girl he's hopelessly in love with.

“He isn’t emotionally constipated! He’s- god- he shows he cares and stuff but in his own way… he has such a kind heart and beautiful soul it just makes me want to dive deeper into what makes him, well him! And when he talks about something he’s passionate about, his eyes they just- lighten up slightly as they also crinkle because he’s smiling and the sight alone rips my breath away. I can’t even describe him by using three words because he deserves the whole damn dictionary! Why can’t you guys see how wonderful he is? He isn’t just some asshole, hes special. That’s why I’ve fallen so hard for him and I don’t regret a second of it.” You’re panting by the time you stop your rant, all eyes on you as you look to the ground embarrassed.

“Y/N, we didn’t know-” Mina tried to start but you quickly dismissed her, “Of course you didn’t know, because no one else in the room spends as much time admiring him like I do.” A sad smile etched on your face, making tsuyu and Uraraka hug you, which you automatically found comfort in. Meanwhile a lilac eyed boy had left his spot and went to his dorm, upset with himself for falling for someone who obviously loved someone that wasn’t him. How could he have been so stupid to even think for a second it could have been him?

*•*

Your head rested on your desk as you listened to the girls talk about the number two hero and gush about how good looking he is. Moving to focus on the empty seat next to you, the pang in your chest didn’t go unnoticed as you frowned. Normally shinsou would be in class already, but for the past few days he's been showing up later, not to mention he’s been leaving class in a rush and pushing you away. It hurt- god did it hurt. Pushing the feelings away, you turned to look at your friends and smiled softly at whatever they were saying.

“Y/N you’re not even paying attention, what’s on your mind?” Momo spoke up, making you sigh. “I know we aren’t- a thing, but he’s barely even looked my way in days and that hurts so much.” You mumbled softly, trying not to stare at his empty seat. “I don’t even know what I did wrong… it’s like I want to ask him but- that terrifies me. Confrontation terrifies me” tears welled up in your eyes as you buried your head in your arms. Your friends knew of your anxiety and honestly if it wasn’t for them, you’d sit in the back of the class and keep to yourself.

It was always the girls talking to you first or making plans, making sure it was something small and intimate because you didn’t like to go out to places that drew a bunch of attention to you. Honestly that was your worst nightmare, just like how the sports festival was horrible for you. When you did go to an agency, you were picked for an underground work agency, not that you didn’t mind. So the fact that you might have to go up and ask your best friend what you did wrong, and then listen to what you did wrong, was killing you on the inside.

Like clockwork, a indigo haired boy walked through the door right before the bell rang, barely giving you a glance, his cold demeanor making you flinch. Taking a deep breath you thought of a great idea that allowed you to talk to Shinsou, but also didn’t make it as scary. You got your notebook out and tore a piece of paper out quietly, before thinking of what to write.

You: ‘Hi =) are you okay? It’s just- I feel like we haven’t been able to talk lately’

Yeah… that’s good. It’s subtle and the smiley face is cute… well hopefully. Tapping on Shinsou’s shoulder you bit your lip, waiting for him to turn around, but he never did. Maybe he just didn’t feel it, you could tap rather light sometimes, so once again you tapped his shoulder, only to get a shoulder shrug in response. You felt your throat go dry as tears threatened to spill, gripping the note in your hand. You stood up abruptly and ran out of class, ignoring Aizawa asking you where you were going.

Shinsou saw you leave, he heard your quiet whimper, he felt your taps. But he couldn’t respond to any of it, why could he when he was hopelessly in love with you and you were in love with someone else? So much so in fact that you ignored your friends pleas to move on. Burying his own head in his arms, he groaned quietly as he tried to get you out of his thoughts. Mina stared at the boy with eyes that could kill, he was the one that was hurting her friend so much, and yet he was still here looking unfazed while you ran out crying.

*•*

Once class ended, Shinsou went to rush out like he’d been doing but was cornered by every single girl in that class, Pinky leading the group. “Who do you think you are to act like this, you emotionally constipated flower. Y/N cares for you and yet here you are avoiding her like she has the plague for no good reason. God I don’t even know what she sees in you anyway” as soon as those words left her mouth, several different pairs of hands flew to cover Mina’s mouth. Shinsou looked at her with a star struck look, before he groaned and facepalmed.

“I’m such an asshole! I thought- I overheard her talking the other night and I thought she liked someone that obviously wasn’t me…” rubbing his face, he had desperate eyes. “I thought if I distanced myself, it would hurt less when she started dating someone that wasn’t me” Some of the girls awed, but Mina merely flicked him. “Just shut up and go after her! You should be explaining this to her, not us dipshit!” Tsuyu eyed Mina and giggled, “You’ve been hanging around Bakugou too much… he's starting to rub off on you”

Shinsou didn’t even stay to hear the girls bicker before he ran off towards the dorms, with only you on his mind. Panting, he finally made it to the place he needed to be and wasted no time on pounding on your door, not once stopping in between knocks. “Guys please- I don’t wanna talk about it..” The croak of your voice broke the lilac eyed boy, making him sigh in defeat. “Y/N, kitten, please let me in… I need to apologize for being such an asshole to my best friend” His soft voice broke through the door, making you tense.

That word. Best friend. That’s all you’ll ever be. Squeezing your eyes shut, you tightly clutched onto your pillow, trying to hide your sniffling. “I’m fine Shinsou, j-just go back to class.” Resting his head against the door, Shinsou frowned deeply and closed his own eyes, trying to picture your form. “No you’re not Y/N…. you’re not fine and it’s my fault. I was being an asshole to you because I assumed things because of my own insecurities. Now can you please open the door so I can tell you this to your face?” He thought the desperate plea had failed until he heard the click of your lock and the turning of your doorknob, door opening to reveal your watery (E/C) eyes.

“Fuck- Y/N. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to be the cause of your tears, I promise to never cause your tears again.” Quickly he cupped your face and pursed his lips as he took in your upset appearance. A blush spread across your face from his intimate touch, looking anywhere but his face, “w-why are you acting like this Shinsou? It hurts…” Your whimpers caught his heart and he brought you into a hug, clutching onto you like you’d push him away. “I love you… okay? I-I heard you talking in the common room the other day and I never thought you could be talking about me, so I pushed you away because I thought it would hurt less then when you started seeing someone that wasn’t me.”

The boy's confession shocked you as you froze, slowly you hugged him back, a smile crawling it’s way onto your flustered face. “Who told you? T-that I was talking about you?” Shinsou chuckled lightly, pulling away and brushed your hair off your face that stuck to the wetness from your tears, “Mina let it slip slightly and I just put two and two together…” Suddenly his face grew serious as he tensed, “I never want to cause you tears again… I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m so so sorry” giggling, you reached up and squished his cheeks together, eyes looking down at the lips you’ve fantasised about for so long.

“I love you too, Toshi…” You were so focused on his lips you didn’t see his own eyes that were focused on your plump lips. “Can I kiss you?” Blushing, you looked to meet his eyes to see if he was serious, slowly nodding you let him inch forward until his lips ghosted against yours, eyes closing when your lips finally clashed in a soft, but slow kiss. It was full of emotion and innocence, his lips moved against yours eagerly because this was something he's wanted to do for ages. The both of you only pulling away for air, foreheads resting against each other as the sound of your soft pants filled the air.

“Be ready at 7 tonight, okay kitten?” Tilting your head, you looked at Shinsou confused and he chuckled, merely pecking your lips. “I have to take my girlfriend on a first date don’t I?” Girlfriend? First date? Shit you just squealed in front of your BOYFRIEND?! Quickly you nodded and ran inside your room, slamming the door, a smile on your face as you finally got your lilac boy.

[gofordrakgo]

Friends

“ ‘Are you going to watch a movie?’ Shego glanced behind her to see Drakken standing in the doorway. It always threw her off to see him in clothing that differed from his usual lab coat. Seeing him now in black jeans and a light blue T-shirt made her blink. ‘I don’t know. I guess so,’ she lied. She wasn’t about to tell him that she’d only been looking through the movies because she’d been thinking about him.”

Shego never really spent much time thinking about Drakken. Sure, she wondered what fruitless plan to take over the world he would come up with next, and sure she cursed his name every time he got them caught, and sure she always worried about him a bit while they were in prison. But she never thought about him. 

She sat on the couch in the common area of the lair, staring at the medal he’d been given after the Lowardian invasion. It glinted in the sunlight, shining and iridescent above the fireplace. She hated it. That sounded harsh, but in a way that was the truth. She couldn’t possibly be more proud of Drakken, but she still hated what the medal represented. Not their overnight change from villains to heroes, though it surprised her she found she didn’t really care that much either way. No - rather, what upset her was that every time she looked at it she remembered once again that she almost lost him that night. 

They’d had more than their fair sure of rough patches in life. She’d spent hours patching him up, cleaning out cuts and icing bruises, and he had spent as much, if not more, time doing the same for her. It didn’t matter. None of it compared to the way she felt as she watched him disappear into the sky when she could do nothing more than uselessly reach a hand out towards him and listen to his screams. That moment damn near broke her. It hurt her enough to go looking for Kim freaking Possible for help. 

For the first time since she’d met him, she realized that she could lose him. He’d become a sort of permanent fixture in her mind. Something that she’d grown so used to that being without it would be bizarre. Leaving him for quick vacations was one thing. The idea of never getting him back was another thing entirely. 

Every time she looked at that damn medal it reminded her that anything could happen to him, that she could lose him at any time. And those thoughts spiraled into what she would do if something did happen - if he left, or died, or was injured so badly that he’d never be the same again. 

Hell, he’d mutated in front of her eyes and, although it freaked her out, she hadn’t been particularly frightened. Her only response - after they were sure he wasn’t going to drop dead where he stood - was to tease him for the petals that bloomed around his neck. What if mocking him, purposefully upsetting him, had been the last thing she’d ever done?

When he gave his acceptance speech, a very eloquently put ‘fuck you’ to those that didn’t believe in him, his vines wrapped around her waist, crushing her chest into his as he said that he never could have done any of it without her. 

Flustered by the shock of finding herself so suddenly close to him and embarrassed by the number of people who saw it happen, she considered blasting him as far away from her as possible. And then she just… didn’t. Maybe it had been the way he’d tentatively smiled at her, though she thought maybe she’d smiled first. Maybe it had been how warm he was or how well they fit together. 

In the week that passed since all of that happened, Shego, who never really thought about Drakken much, couldn’t get him out of her mind. 

She knew every single one of his flaws. 

His sweet tooth rivaled that of a toddler, and she often found candy wrappers lingering in the lab, or squished between the couch cushions. If he was upset she was bound to find him baking some sort of sweet-treat that he would gorge himself on if she didn’t stop him. 

He fidgeted constantly, whether that meant shifting in place or messing with things he shouldn’t. Once he blew up the TV she had just stolen because he wouldn’t quit fiddling with a malfunctioning ray gun, even after she told him to put it away. 

He scared easily, hiding under blankets when they watched horror movies and gluing himself to her side when the power went out and the only light in the lair came from her plasma powers. 

He tapped his fingers, he hated her music, he was quick to anger, and way too quick to forgive. He obsessed over ideas, even when he knew they would go nowhere. His sleep schedule was nearly nonexistent, he didn’t care about taking tropical vacations, he always cared too much about what she thought of him - except the times when he didn’t care about her at all. He probably wanted kids. He was obsessed with karaoke, all his favorite movies were meant for children, and…

Shego’s mind froze, mid-thought

What was Drakken’s favorite movie? She knew he loved that dumb snowman movie, because he made her watch it every Christmas, but thinking back on all of their past movie nights she couldn’t remember one that he’d actually chosen the movie for. 

He hated horror movies, she knew that, and yet nearly every movie she could recall watching with him was a horror movie. There’d been Bloodbath - a movie about a serial killer whose litany of victims were tortured and killed in brutal and unique ways, and Halley’s Comment - a more humorous horror film about a girl so distracted by her personal life that she was oblivious to the world being destroyed by a comet outside her window. It was funny, but the background horror had even had her on edge. Granted, she believed her anxieties surrounding comets were fairly justifiable, all things considered. 

There’d also been The Glistening, Juvenile’s Game, That, and Yell. All of them had been her choices, and he’d spent almost all of them clutching his knees to his chest and watching from between the gaps in his fingers. 

Shego rubbed her temples. She had to know what his favorite movie was. Why didn’t she know? She had to. They had a movie night at least once a week, if not more! How could she not know?

She leapt off the couch, and threw open the doors to the tv stand, scanning through their movie collection. She recognized a few musicals that belonged to him, some old cartoons, comedies, and a number of science-fiction and fantasy movies. He’d asked her to watch some of them with him: The Warlock of Zo, King of the Necklaces, Galaxy Fights… She couldn’t remember ever actually agreeing. Was his favorite The Tiger Ruler? Triassic Grounds? She should know the answer to this. 

“Are you going to watch a movie?” 

Shego glanced behind her to see Drakken standing in the doorway. It always threw her off to see him in clothing that differed from his usual lab coat. Seeing him now in black jeans and a light blue T-shirt made her blink. 

“I don’t know. I guess so,” she lied. She wasn’t about to tell him that she’d only been looking through the movies because she’d been thinking about him. 

He tucked his thumb into his pocket. “Can I join you? I’ll make popcorn.”

Why didn’t he bother to ask what movie she was going to watch? If he actually hated her choices shouldn’t he try avoiding movie nights? What was his deal? And - gah! - why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?

“Yeah, sure,” she agreed, then added, “Make two bags!” 

He returned a few minutes later carrying a giant bowl filled to the brim with popcorn, the buttery scent infiltrating the air. 

“What are you watching?” he asked, and she heard the bowl clink gently onto the table. A stray piece of popcorn bounced down next to her. 

He always made the snacks for the movies, she realized. She could heat up a bag of popcorn too, but he always did it anyway. And a lot of the time he didn’t just make popcorn, but rather he’d set up an entire array of snacks and candies as if they were actually at a movie theater. Once, memorably, he set up a chocolate fountain that he’d found abandoned in his mother’s attic. 

She rarely let him pick the movie, but he made the snacks anyway. Could she say she would do the same?

“Um... I don’t know,” she answered. “Why don’t you choose?” She pushed herself up and turned around to see him staring at her, obviously baffled by the unusual offer. 

“Really?” he asked after a pause that bordered on awkward. “Is this some sort of trick? You’ve replaced my movies with horror movies, haven’t you?” he accused, rushing past her towards the TV stand. 

He pulled a VHS out, seemingly at random, and opened it, sighing in relief when he saw she hadn’t messed with his movies. 

She snorted and gave his shoulder a gentle shove. “Wow, tell me what you really think of me, Doc.”

“Well, it’s not as if you’ve ever liked watching my movies, Shego. What was I meant to expect? That you suddenly wanted to watch something I’d actually enjoy instead of something gruesome and horrible?” The way he spoke didn’t seem at all cruel, or even particularly upset about her history of movie decisions. Instead, he spoke like he would be shrugging if only he weren’t busy hunching over to choose a movie. It still made her feel guilty somehow, which was not an emotion she was - or planned to become - accustomed to. 

“Just pick a movie,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. As she moved to sit on the couch, she could hear him whispering titles to himself. 

He finally made a choice and hesitated for a brief moment before popping it in the VCR without telling her what he’d chosen.

As she watched the actors dancing and heard bits and pieces of songs that were bound to play throughout the movie, she figured out that he’d put on Fancy-Free even before the title scrawled across the scene in bright purple letters. 

She suppressed a groan, knowing that she really had nothing to be annoyed about. She’d never actually seen it… Maybe he was right and she would like it. Although, a bunch of snot-nosed teenagers getting into trouble for liking music seemed ridiculous to her. 

“You said I could choose,” Drakken reminded her, a pleading note in his voice before she had the chance to say anything herself. 

She forced herself to shrug. “Do you see me changing it?”

He grinned at her and practically bounced into his usual seat next to her. She had a flash of desire that distracted her for the first ten minutes of the movie. Since when did she want Drakken to sit… closer? There was barely more than a few inches of space between them already. Since when did she want him to close that distance? 

She had to force her brain to shut off, so she could at least watch the movie, if not actually enjoy it. 

She discovered fairly quickly that Drakken had been right. She loved the movie. Snot-nosed teenagers or not, the movie was fun. By the end she found herself mouthing along as the titular song played the movie off.

“What?” she asked when she caught him staring at her an absent sort of smile on his face. It melted into a full-on smirk when she addressed him. 

“I’ve been trying to get you to watch this movie for three years,” he said. “You always said you wouldn’t like it.”

“Yeah. Well, I–” She almost told him she didn’t, because she knew that he’d roll his eyes but otherwise leave well enough alone. “Shut up,” she said instead, half a giggle escaping her before she managed to choke it down. “It was… fun, but I still don’t get why you love it so much.”

“I saw it when it first came out when I was in college,” he began, leaning back against the couch. Again, Shego wanted to move closer to him. “I didn’t really care about it at first, but it became my favorite movie after the first time I went to karaoke night. Fancy-Free was the first song I ever performed since all the other songs on the list had already been sung at least twice. I got a standing ovation, you know.” 

She liked seeing him talk about good memories. He so rarely did. Most of what she knew about his childhood were things that had gone wrong. The bully down the street that she never actually listened to stories about long enough to find out what he’d done, his father’s disappearance when he was nine that she never asked for details on, failed experiments, and failed attempts at making friends. She’d heard about it all, not that she listened to him. 

“Are we friends?” she blurted suddenly before she even realized that she’d thought the words. 

He froze mid-sentence. “Wha– What?”

“I… I don’t know.” She shook her head, already wishing she hadn’t spoken at all. What the hell did she think she was doing?

“No, wait, Shego! What do you mean?”

“I mean, we don’t like any of the same things! I hate karaoke, you love it. I love horror movies, you get all freaked every time we watch one. I want to go to the Bahamas or Hawaii for vacation, and your idea of a good time is baking cookies or building a robot. You’re a scientist and I–” 

Shego stopped herself before she could say that she was stupid. She knew she wasn’t, she’d graduated college after all, but she still sometimes felt intimidated by how smart he actually was. She didn’t bother learning how most of his inventions worked, because he seemed to always be moving onto something new before she’d wrapped her head around the last project. He had trouble with words sometimes, but she’d figured out after less than a week of working with him that it was a matter of his brain moving faster than even he could keep up with, rather than actual stupidity.

After her rant, she expected… something from him. Anything. A rant of his own, a shocked reaction, just something. What she got instead was a strange look and a simple, “So?”

“What do you mean, ‘so?’” Shego found herself getting angry quite suddenly. 

He shrugged. “I mean, ‘so.’ I know you don’t like karaoke, but you always come with me. Sometimes you even sing.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“And no, I don’t like watching horror movies but… well.” Drakken started to look flustered, nervous even. Like her, he was never great with emotions. He tapped the remote against his knee, before dropping it to the couch, and began lacing his fingers instead. “You do, so I watch them with you because… I guess because we are friends - aren’t we?” 

“Yeah,” she sighed, hoping he couldn’t tell how much it relieved her to hear him say that. “Yeah, I guess we are.” What kind of a shitty friend was she though? 

“Shego?”

“Yeah?”

“We both like the movie.” He gestured towards the screen as the credits cut to static and white noise. For a moment she stared at him, then she snickered, and then she began to laugh. Soon enough they were both cackling, blissfully leaving behind the feeling of dread the conversation had caused to coil up in her chest. 

“If you ever tell anyone that I watched - let alone enjoyed - this movie I’ll set your teddy bear on fire.”

[hail-the-supreme-leader-kylo-ren]

**TROS SPOILER WARNING** I saw it and ... 💔💔💔

Well after waiting 2 years, I finally saw The Rise of Skywalker and wow I’m devastated, confused, and angry. The worst thing that they could’ve possibly done they did. They killed Ben Solo Skywalker. I don’t know why screen writers today do this bullshit “bittersweet romance” thing where the two lovers finally have each other, only for one to die when it’s not necessary?!? It’s so cruel. The way the entire ending played out after they killed him, was like the knife they’d stabbed me with was being twisted. I can’t stop crying.

Rey defeated Palpatine, Ben pulled himself out of the pit (lol yes), cradle Rey is his arms lovingly, decided to try to Force heal her (I always had a feeling Ben would bring Rey back to life, because Anakin could never save Padme). Rey is alive again she says “Ben”, caresses him, they kiss, he smiles, REYLO IS CANON, and then shock twist he slumps and then instantly fades away. He’s dead.

LIKE WHAT THE ACTUALLY FUCK IS THAT JJ???? The final Skywalker, the one you’ve been building up as a tragically misunderstood, abuse victim dies sacrificing his life for Rey’s. Han, Luke and Leia all died and hoped that Ben would return to the light. And yeah sure he did, but I would’ve thought that his family would have wanted him to return to the light and LIVE out the rest of his days happily. Doesn’t he deserve that??

There’s so many confusing aspects to this, like A) why did he become “redeemed” then die sacrificing himself just like Vader? I thought that was the problem with the OT and why we have the ST... being that Vader died too soon and didn’t complete the full redemption journey and return to that innocent happy boy he once was and teach his story to others? B) does Rey love Ben? Because the whole movie was framed like she did. But the second he died, I don’t think she called out or even cried???? She goes back to the Resistance and is happy and hugs Finn and Poe. UGH THE “TRIO”. Isn’t she devastated she’s lost her love Ben? And then when she goes back to Tatooine, she sees Force ghost Leia and Luke but no Ben??!???!? A final slap in the face. C) since Ben and Rey were a “Dyad” and were one through the Force, I feel like they should’ve been able to both easily live??? Why bother making them Dyad if it ain’t going to serve the story at all? Is it supposed to just be a cop out and explain the Force Bonds? It’s all so infuriating.

They only reason I can think of why they’d kill Ben Solo is because they wanted to close the loophole of the “Skywalkers” so that they didn’t fuck anything up with the Force’s balance again. But even then that’s seems like a very thin idea, because Rey still exists and she’s a “Palpatine” and is uber powerful? How exactly was the Force finally brought into balance through this movie? Palpatine was defeated and the Palpatine bloodline/legacy “redeemed”? It doesn’t make much sense. GAH I would’ve preferred both Ben and Rey die, since their equals, why would one live and not the other?

They only reason I can think of why they’d kill Ben Solo is because they wanted to close the loophole of the “Skywalkers” so that they didn’t fuck anything up with the Force’s balance again. But even then that’s seems like a very thin idea, because Rey still exists and she’s a “Palpatine” and is uber powerful? How exactly was the Force finally brought into balance through this movie? Palpatine was defeated and the Palpatine bloodline/legacy “redeemed”? It doesn’t make much sense. GAH I would’ve preferred both Ben and Rey die, since their equals, why would one live and not the other?

To be honest, I was enjoying the film for the first half. It opened with Kylo/Ben so that’s a great. And the Force Bond scenes with Kylo/Ben and Rey screaaaaamed Reylo love. But so many of the leaks were right, it was becoming quite comical. And looking back of the film now it was all very clunky and had a lot of convoluted stuff in there that was so illogical and didn’t really serve a strong purpose to the narrative or any character development. When the watery Death Star scene went down, it seemed like (trope wise) that this would be the moment the Reylo kiss happens, but the dialogue wasn’t right it wasn’t angsty. And I thought, “oh no Reylo is not happening”. But then Bendemption happened and I was okay again. And by the time Rey went to confront Palpatine, I’d realised Ben really hasn’t been given enough screen time in this film, he wasn’t going to be the “hero” in this finally showdown, this was very firmly Rey’s story/saga. Which seemed odd, because they’re equals “dual protagonists”??! As Rey defeated Palpatine I was confused as to what the hell, because there was an obvious emphasis on all the Force ghosts telling HER alone to “Rise”, including Anakin. This was deeeply concerning because what about his own grandson Ben Solo??? At this point I didn’t know what was going to happen with Ben. But then like I said before he pulled himself out of the “pit”, very romantically came back for her and saved her and then just D I E D like it was nothing. I repeat W T F.

Now here’s all the other stuff I didn’t like about the film: - There was zero character development, except for Ben finally turning to the light and then he DIED - SNOKE WAS A PALPATINE CLONE???????? WTF JJ ARE YOU SMOKING CRACK? This was an early red flag that I should have heeded. I feel like all the fanboys finally feel satisfied with knowing Snoke’s backstory. - Where the fuck was Rose? Why didn’t she say like 3 words and get .5 screen time? that was some bulllllllllsshit. Why was she introduced in TLJ just to be sidelined? - Why the FUCK did they bother to make Finn Force sensitive? They hinted at it, and he never even got to tell anyone. It didn’t serve the story at all?!?!? Such a waste of time - Poe got to have a romantic happy ending with Zorri, while Reylo did not. - The C-P30 memory wipe had no lasting consequences, R2-D2 restored him in like 2 hrs? This screentime could’ve been used for Ben. All of Kijimi could’ve been scrapped to be honest. - The Knights of Ren were extremely useless, you could’ve swapped them for stormtroopers and it wouldn’t have made a different. Very disappointing. - Jannah was also useless, this screentime and scripttime could’ve been used for Rose. Her stormtroopers rebellion story was so heavy handed and terribly done. - Same goes for Dominic’s character, why did he exist? - Lando being back was also under-utilised, he had history with Ben why didn’t they use that? - Sooo many of the terrible leaks were true: the necklace grab, Luke/Leia training, Hux being a mole which was confusing and then he just died, Rey thinking she killed Chewie, the Sith dagger and C-3PO blah blah, Ben falling into “a pit” lol, the film finishing with Rey going to Tattooine and saying “I’m Rey, Rey Skywalker.” As soon as I saw Tatooine, I wanted to vomit because I knew that horrible horrible line was coming. - It wasn’t explained as to why Kylo remade his mask - Ben and Rey didn’t say I love you. And tbh, it’s probably good then didn’t since JJ killed Ben. - The finally “war” was very underwhelming and took place on one star destroyer - I was really hoping for some awesome Force Bond “world between worlds” jumping location stuff, and/or awesome new Reylo powers (but it was just healing)... so this was underwhelming. - I don’t know why Ben didn’t kill Palpatine instantly, opening scene? - They really emphasised babies and children on Pasaana with Rey, so I thought this was obvious foreshadowed of her and Ben’s future.... but no. - Pyrde wasn’t that interesting of a character, well acted but one-dimensional. - I really really hated Rey being a Palpatine. It makes no sense? I loved her being a no body and getting her powers from herself. What about her father, Palpatine’s son?? Did Palpatine try to get his son to kill him as well??? It’s so illogical. Also if everyone has to be if legacy blood, does this mean that Finn is a Konobi?! HAHAHA. I also hate how they added the fact that Leia and Luke “knew” she was a Palps all along. BAHAHAHAHA. Terrible. - Palptine wanted Rey to kill him, so he could live through her as a vessel. But then he Palpatine took Rey’s and Ben’s life essence, but they didn’t die? But he was back to his 100%. Then Rey killed Palps with the power of “all the Jedi”, and somehow Palpatine died? I thought he was going to go into her if she killed him? Or is the clause that she has to be angry and kill him with hatred? Boyyyyyyyyyy it’s so stupid. I can’t even.

Here’s the stuff I did like: - The Reylo kiss and Ben’s smile. - Ben offering his hand to Rey again, and all their Force Bonds of them trying to one-up each other with how well they know each other’s fears etc. - Him crushing the Sith wayfinding was hawwwwt. He was like if you’re going there, you’re gonna have to go with me. (Also leaves open a plothole of how the fuck did Ben navigate his way there in the finale) - Rey not killing the snake but healing it, yeah it was really odd but I don’t like how previous Jedi always slaughter animals so this was a plus for me. - Ben Solo in his “redeemed” outfit, he looked soo fine, and it reminded me of Han too which was sweet. - Leia’s death being the prompt to finally turning Ben back to the light. Finally a mother she did something right, looool. - I thought it was weird for Star Wars, but I did like Han being back as a memory, to talk with Ben. And the “Dad....” “I know” killed me. I knew they needed to resolve the one evil deed Ben performed, so this worked fine. - I loved Rey mediating with the rocks at the start of the film, and I loved her and Ben’s prequelsque Force jumping. - I loved that Jodie Comer was Rey’s mum!!!!! (I love Jodie) - I did like how the Luke’s water sunken X-wing from TLJ was used in this film, it was predictable but satisfying somehow. - There was so much FinnPoe tension through the film like Poe was jealous of Rey, it was hilarious. - I liked the queer kiss, even though it wasn’t much.

So there that’s everything I needed to say. I would’ve been sad and confused if Reylo didn’t happen, (because they’d set it up for 2 films), but I’m devastated that they killed Ben. Bendemption isn’t truely complete if he doesn’t get to live. I know he means so much to people, people who connected with him/who faced similar trauma as him. I know they’ll be a devastated as I am and that is what makes it so much worst. I saw someone say on Twitter a few weeks ago that it’s be horrible for Ben to die, who had suffered so much only for Rey to take the name of “Skywalker”, basically stealing his identity.

And yeah that’s exactly what happened. Ben deserved better, the fans deserved better, and the Reylo’s deserved better. 💔💔💔💔💔💔 In a few hours I’m seeing it again with my family this time, and I really don’t want want to rewatch it.... isn’t that horrible.

[ilovemygaydad]

part 4/? of punk!patton gets adopted by single parent logan

part one - part two - part three - part five - ao3 version - masterlist (includes asks and art!)

pairings: moxiety, eventual logince, background pining remceit, mentions of past thomas/female oc

warnings: patton angst, lots of emotions, panic attacks, anxiety, crying, food mentions, kissing, caps, swearing, possibly something else

***feel free to send me questions or comments! i’ll answer them to the best of my ability, and everything is tagged under “punk!patton au”

a/n: this chapter is a lot shorter, but it would have been SO LONG if i’d put in all the stuff i’d planned 

so you know how patton was being emo at the end of the last part

yeah

so here’s the thing

it’s worse now

about three days have passed

and hooooo boy

patton is emo

he barely speaks, he reads during lunch instead of chatting with virgil, and he barely even glances at the poor kid

and virgil is so worried, but he doesn’t know how to bring it up

so after the final bell rings, virgil grabs patton before he can sprint out of the classroom and sits him back down

“what’s bothering you, pat? why aren’t you talking to me?”

there’s such genuine worry in virgil’s eyes, that when patton looks at him, he freaks out

without even thinking, he’s sprinting out of the classroom and disappearing into hallway traffic

and virgil is left in the classroom, staring at patton’s supplies

and he can’t help wondering

what did i do wrong?

because, obviously, if patton feels the need to run away, it must be something that virgil did

tears well up in his eyes, and his breathing starts to become ragged

he scoops up his own belongings and goes through his normal routine, trying to ignore the intense panic attack that he’s having

he somehow manages to get out to roman’s car and buckle himself up

roman looks over to virgil to ask how his day went, and virgil just crumbles

knowing damn well that they won’t be able to talk while driving home, roman moves the car to an empty parking space and parks

“hey, starlight. it’s okay. breathe. you’ve just gotta breathe...”

it takes a few minutes, but virgil’s breathing evens out, and he’s mostly just a sniffling mess

“hey, you wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

and virgil almost loses it again, but he manages to spit out, “patton’s upset, and i don’t know what to do, and i’m pretty sure it’s something i did wrong”

internally, roman’s like god damn that kid making my son upset again, but externally, he asks, “why does that make you upset?”

“because...” virgil stutters a bit. “because i love him, dad, and i don’t want him to be sad, especially not because of me”

and roman’s like oh, shit 

because, like, yay virgil’s in love, but it’s with patton, and it’s currently bad news bears

“honey, how does patton get home?”

“the bus stop on main and willow”

“alright. how about you drive home, and i’ll meet up with you later. i’ll get us ice cream, and we can watch big hero six.”

“okay,” virgil says, and roman’s about to leave the car when virgil grabs his arm and attention again. “you aren’t gonna be mad at him, are you?”

and roman’s heart kinda breaks like, “no, honey. i’m just gonna try to get both sides of the story before i make assumptions”

so virgil lets him go, and roman makes his way to the bus stop

no one’s there yet, so he sits there and watches the cars pass, checking every thirty seconds or so to see if patton’s coming

and finally he does, and he’s got his hood up and headphones in, and when he glances up and sees roman, he mutters “oh shit” and is about to turn around because there’s no way in hell that he’s going to talk to the dad of his crush after ruining his friendship with said crush

but roman calls out, “wait, hey! I really need to talk to you”

and patton’s like

hnnnnnnnn

fuck

but he stops and sits down next to roman, curling in on himself because ew, emotions and shit

“okay,” roman starts, all serious, and patton’s internally kicking himself for not running away from the bus stop. “what’s up with you and virgil?”

“nothing” patton sneers, crossing his arms

“fine. you know that i can’t make you say anything, but i’m really trying to not hate you right now because i know that virgil actually cares about you as a friend, and i’m not going to hurt him like that.”

and maybe it was a bit of a manipulation, but roman was kinda at the end of his rope with this kid, and he really didn’t want virgil to be all fucked up because of some punk-ass kid he met on the first day of school and decided that they were going to be friends

“i... i have a crush on him, and i don’t know what to do.”

patton looks as if he’s going to cry, and roman’s dad instincts kick in despite his better judgement

“about what?”

“the crush. he likes someone else, and it’s so selfish to want to be with him when he doesn’t feel the same way, but everything i try to get over him fails. he’s so sweet and loving and kind, and i want to spend every second with him, even though i can’t.”

roman sighs, and reaches out for patton’s shoulder. “i think you should talk to him, patton. it’s not good for you to keep trying to hide your feelings, and it will put a harsh strain on the friendship you have with virgil.”

“but he doesn’t like me--”

“did he tell you that?” roman asks very seriously

“no, but...”

“then you don’t know anything for sure. it’s better to take the chance with the possibility of success than suffer silently and watch everything crumble. love has risks, and you can’t avoid that.”

and patton’s like

“gaH you’re right! i hate that you’re right, but you are.”

and that’s when the bus comes, and patton waves at roman as he boards. he watches as roman walks away and the bus goes on its route and is just pondering what roman said

so he texts virgil “meet me @ 6 at the park by your house. we need to talk”

and, like, yeah, he feels a bit bad about being cryptic since he knows that virgil gets anxious easy, but what else is he supposed to say

“hey, i have a massive crush on you, and i want to confess to you why i’ve been acting weird lately, and that’s it! come meet me at the park so we can make out/you can reject me horribly!”

like???

fuckin no??????

patton gets home around 3:30, and he works through his homework by 4:30

at five, he grabs an extra jacket, steals some money from logan’s wallet, and tells logan to just put dinner in the fridge for him because he’s going out

(logan trusts patton not to do anything bad. a couple dozen dollars go missing from his wallet every so often, but it’s not like patton has an income outside of the house, and patton’s been completely trustworthy so far. he doesn’t question it.)

patton takes the bus to a whole food’s and buys some gluten free cookies

(he has to ask a couple of the workers which are the best, and he finds some that seem reasonable enough)

he gets to the park ten minutes early, and he’s floored by how massive it is once again

he’d only been there about two times--both with virgil--and the place is just plain huge

there are multiple soccer fields and a baseball diamond and a small place for skateboarding and then a really nice playground

apparently, it gets a lot of use during the warmer seasons, but by mid-fall, it’s pretty much empty

hence why he asked virgil to meet him there

patton goes to the playground and sits on top of the monkey bars, holding onto the cookies and looking up at the sky to pass the time

“are you gonna be all edgy up there, or are you going to come down?” virgil’s voice suddenly rings out, and patton smiles gently

he swings himself so he’s hanging upside down from his knees, smirking right in front of virgil’s face

“and ruin my aesthetic? i don’t think so, pal.” he then holds the cookies out to virgil. “cookies?”

virgil takes them, and patton drops down from the monkey bars with surprising grace

patton finally takes a good look at virgil, and, like he suspected, virgil’s still wearing the clothes he wore to school and didn’t put a jacket on despite the frigid weather, so he took the extra jacket that he tied around his waist and wrapped it around virgil’s shoulders 

“thanks, pat,” virgil murmured between bites of cookie. “what’d you wanna talk about?”

patton’s chest tightens as remembers what he’s supposed to be doing, and he gestures towards the small skate park

“let’s sit down on one of the tables”

so they do, and patton takes a few breaths before he speaks again

“look, virgil... the reason that i’ve been so weird recently is that...” he turns his gaze down at his hands so he doesn’t have to see virgil’s face “i have a crush on you”

“oh,” virgil says plainly. “oh...”

and patton realizes that roman was dead wrong--this was a horrible idea

“god, this was a mistake,” patton says, trying to force down the tears in his eyes as he slides off the table and starts walking away.

“no! no, oh my god, no, patton!” virgil rushes as he hurries to catch patton’s arm. “shit, patton, i’m massively in love with you.”

“...what?”

patton steals a glance toward virgil, who is smiling and teary and so, so beautiful

“i love you so much, and i would very much like to be your boyfriend.”

patton is astounded at this adorable boy that decided that he was going to befriend this weird punk kid on the first day of school. virgil, who is so soft and sweet and completely unlike patton himself, is in love with him

and virgil is just so happy that this once lonely punk boy is finally starting to feel comfortable in his own skin and get over his past pain. he saw the way that patton’s eyes sparkled when he was passionate about something, and he never wanted to be away from that light

“can i kiss you?” patton asks softly

“of course, you big sap”

patton leans in and their lips meet and it’s just

awesome

and neither of them cares that virgil’s lip gloss is going to smear or that it’s cold outside or anything

it’s just them, and that’s what matters

when they break the kiss, they stare at each other for what feels like an eternity before virgil breaks down in giggles

“what?” patton asks, furrowing his brow

“dude, you’ve got so much fucking lip gloss on your mouth right now. it looks good on you.”

patton rolls his eyes and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand “shut up, or i won’t kiss you again”

“heY!” virgil says indignantly, pouting and crossing his arms

“aw, you’re cute when you’re all pouty”

“shut up, or i won’t kiss you again!”

“okay, okay! stalemate!”

so they spend a little more time kissing because wow this is nice and new and weird

eventually, they need to go home, so patton walks virgil back to his house, kissing him good bye on the front step before they part ways

as soon as patton is a little down the street, virgil sprints inside and immediately finds his dad, tackling him

“DAD, PATTON AND I ARE DATING!”

roman gasps (pretending he didn’t have a very instrumental part in that confession) “aw, virge! that’s awesome! i’m so happy for you!”

patton, on the other hand, is much more calm about telling his adult about it

he leans in the doorway of the kitchen, where logan’s looking over worksheets, and simply states “virgil and i are dating”

and logan smiles because he’s really happy that patton is finally settling in in and becoming happy

“that’s nice, patton. if you don’t mind, i’d like to invite virgil and his father over for dinner on friday. it would be nice to get to know them more.”

and patton’s like “yeah, sure thing. i’ll ask virgil tonight”

virgil gets a text while he’s gushing to roman about patton like “hey logan wants you and your dad to come over for dinner on friday. sound good?”

and both roman and virgil are so fucking hype, and they say yes

so friday dinner is a thing

to be continued... part five

asks are loved and encouraged, and make sure to check out the amazing art people have made on the masterlist! 💖💖💖

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[the-observant-frisbeetarian]

Chapter 3 - Crescendo con Herzlich

Libelle Hall by George deValier

PART THREE Crescendo con Herzlich

.

The second Gilbert picked the lock and stepped through the front doors of Libelle Hall, he heard the music. And the second he heard the music, he knew he was not alone. "Little Austrian," he muttered under his breath - pretending to be surprised, pretending to be annoyed, pretending he had not expected to find this all along. But Gilbert never was a very convincing liar, even to himself. So he simply shrugged resignedly, took a swig from the glass bottle he'd cracked open two streets over, and followed the music.

The old foyer was lit faintly by floodlights from the demolition equipment outside, filtered through high, dusty windows, illuminating faded gold walls and frayed red carpet. The hall was deserted now - no sign remained of the protestors who had cried so very loudly for its salvation. Nothing except that intricate music, deep, full, and echoing through the eerie emptiness, drawing Gilbert deeper into Libelle Hall and towards the only person who actually seemed to give a damn for it.

He walked through the dim foyer and up a red staircase; through a large, golden, doorway into a wide, open hall where the air lightened and the music swelled. Down past aisles on aisles of red, musty-smelling chairs and then a few wooden steps onto the stage itself. Gilbert had never been in here before – after all, what was the point? He was only going to knock it down. But now, he couldn't help feeling a little awed as he stared up at the high, domed glass ceiling, the embellished balconies, the massive silver pipes lining the walls. Even in its decline, this place was magnificent.

The music now blasted down from directly above, shaking the very air, and Gilbert followed it to a narrow staircase behind the stage. He climbed it steadily, the old wooden steps creaking beneath his feet. He was pulled towards this, unable to turn back, but why? Why had he even come to this place, with nothing but a six-pack of beer and a vague sense of confused inevitability?

Because, his traitorous brain answered, you knew he'd be here. "I don't know what you're talking about," Gilbert muttered. He finished his beer, tossed the empty bottle over his shoulder, and reaching the top of the stairs, he stepped onto a small, balustraded balcony.

His heart did a somersault in his chest.

On one side, the balcony looked down on the stage below, and rows and rows of empty seats stretching dimly into the dusty light. On the other…

Roderich sat with his back to the hall, fingers flying over four rows of keys, feet tapping across a line of pedals, his entire body practically dancing with the massive sound he drew like magic from the old pipe organ. Gilbert nearly reached for the wall to hold himself steady. He felt his breath catch as he watched the Austrian play, and for a moment he almost thought the soft, gold light that filled the room was glowing from Roderich's beautiful face rather than the tall lamp which sat atop the keyboards.

After what might have been a few minutes, or might have been an hour, the air-shaking music finally drew to a close. Roderich still had not noticed Gilbert standing mere feet away. Heavy silence engulfed the hall, and Roderich slowly stilled, head bowed and hands resting on the keys.

"Holy shit!" Gilbert slammed his mouth shut, too late to stop the words echoing accusingly off the cavernous walls. Roderich gasped loudly and spun around, hand flying to his chest, face white and utterly stunned. Gilbert's blood roared to his head and he stammered, "I mean, fuck - I mean, gah - I mean…" Be cool! "S'up."

Roderich's astonished expression turned nervous. He glanced briefly at the exit. "How did you get in here?"

Gilbert answered too quickly. "The front door was open."

"No it wasn't."

"It was unlocked."

"No, it wasn't."

Gilbert let out a defeated breath. "Okay, fine. I busted the lock."

"Ah." Roderich did not sound surprised. "What do you want?"

"I..." Difficult question. Which he didn't exactly have an answer for, so he nodded up at the massive pipes instead. "They, uh… said it didn't work."

Roderich lifted one shoulder slightly. His wide eyes did not blink once. "Some of the keys are stuck, and a few of the stops refuse to move. You have to be gentle with it. It is a little broken, but it can still create something beautiful."

Something guilty and unpleasant crawled under Gilbert's skin. What was he doing here? Roderich obviously felt threatened by him. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, and maybe Gilbert should leave. But maybe there was a reason he couldn't get this Austrian out of his head, and maybe this was the perfect time and place to find out why. Also, maybe he should give the guy a compliment or something. "It sounded fucking epic, dude."

"Thank you." Ever polite, even as he furrowed his perfectly groomed eyebrows.

"S'alright." Gilbert scuffed a foot against the ground awkwardly. "I can play 'Stairway' on the guitar."

Confused silence. "…oh?"

"Yep. Rock on." The silence grew uncomfortable. Not knowing what else to do, Gilbert held out what remained of the Köstritzer six-pack. "Want a beer?"

Roderich's eyes lowered to the beer, lifted back to Gilbert's own, then narrowed doubtfully. "Are you trying to mock me? Is that why you're here?"

"Please," Gilbert uttered sarcastically, dropping the beer back to his side. It wasn't like he was disappointed or anything. "I had no idea you'd even be here." Liar. 

"Ah." Roderich folded his arms haughtily, his expression smoothing in apparent understanding. "Of course. You are here to gloat over what you are about to destroy."

Gilbert made a colossal effort not to slam a hand against his forehead in sheer frustration. Why was Roderich making this so difficult? He might be pretty, but damn he could be daft. "We ain't knocking this place down just to piss you off, y'know." He tapped his foot against the ground, and it responded with a creak. "There are termites in the walls, the ceiling is too heavy, the floor is sinking with the soil. It's pretty, yeah, but it's dangerous. Like it or not, Libelle Hall is coming down, with or without my help. Now do you want a beer or not, because this shit's getting warm and I ain't drinking warm beer like a bloody Englishman."

At first, Roderich looked utterly devastated, and Gilbert was terrified he might burst into tears. Then his features twisted in fury, and for a mad second Gilbert worried he might attack him. But just like that, it was all gone, and instead Roderich breathed a deep, tired sigh as he stood slowly from the organ chair. "Yes, thank you. Yes, I would very much like a beer."

"Right then." Gilbert passed him a bottle then sat heavily on the faded timber floor behind the peeling balustrade. Roderich, however, glared at the dusty ground, and would not sit until Gilbert rolled his eyes and dusted it off with his sleeve.

"So, um." Roderich settled beside him, legs crossed and back straight, just close enough for Gilbert to catch a whiff of something suspiciously floral. Oh good Lord, the hippy even smelt like flowers. He took a small sip of beer then rested the bottle lightly against his crossed ankles. "Pretty, you said."

Gilbert instantly felt the blood drain from his face. "I did?"

Roderich tilted his head curiously. His eyes were piercingly violet in the lamplight, the warm glow casting gold highlights in his deep brown hair, and how had Gilbert never noticed the little beauty mark beneath his lips? "Do you really think so?"

Burning sweat rose to Gilbert's brow. Had he said something? Was he that obvious? Could Roderich read minds? Don't think of him naked!

Slightly puzzled, Roderich prompted, "You said it was pretty, but dangerous?"

The air left Gilbert's lungs in a mighty whoosh of relief. "The building."

"…Of course..."

"Of course." Gilbert took a rather desperate swig of beer. "It's nice enough. Don't see why you were willing to be crushed by hippies for it, though. It's just a concert hall."

Roderich stared at him coldly, before breathing a soft sigh and shaking his head. "It's not just a hall, though. It reminds me of someone..." He hesitated, unsure, and brushed his hair behind his ear. "Someone who was important to me."

Sometimes - just sometimes - Gilbert realised he'd been a bit of an asshole. "Shit, I'm sorry, man." How had he been so blind not to see Roderich was grieving? That's what this had been about, all along. "My parents died when I was twelve. If I'd've known…" But not knowing how to finish, he simply patted Roderich clumsily on the shoulder.

Roderich blinked at him, eyes wide in surprise. Then his face softened into a sad smile. "How could you have known? I'm sorry about your parents. Mine are in Vienna. They are professors, and they're horrible snobs, and I'm sorry I called you uneducated because I sound just like them and I hate it."

"S'okay," Gilbert shrugged. He could not even remember Roderich calling him uneducated, but whatever. "It's not like you're wrong, I mean, I didn't even finish high school. Ludwig, my brother, he's the smart one. But hey, at least I got the looks! I just got dirt on your shoulder, by the way."

Roderich's vaguely amused expression fell in horror and he brushed frantically at his shirt. "Oh my God, this is Dior..."

Gilbert bit his cheek to keep from snorting, and took a swig of beer to keep from thinking how sort of cute Roderich's reaction was. This was completely baffling. The way Roderich spoke, the way he moved, the things he said – it should all annoy Gilbert, disgust him, infuriate him. Instead, Gilbert was fascinated. "Is that how you ended up in Canada? Fleeing the snobby parents?"

When Roderich seemed satisfied his stupid shirt was not completely ruined (and what the hell was a Dior, anyway?) he shrugged in response. "That's it, basically. They only cared for the fame I could bring them. Trotting me out at every Austrian concert hall and Viennese social event like some sort of performing monkey. My only escape from the whole vulgar charade was to visit my Aunt Maria, here in Canada." Then Roderich smiled again, looking out over the hall, and Gilbert's hand tightened on his beer bottle. "She loved music. But she really loved it – none of that false posturing of my ridiculous parents. She gave me hundreds of music books and let me play what I liked - even Mahler, who my parents simply detested."

Roderich's face practically glowed at the memory, and he visibly relaxed, his shoulders loosening. Once he started speaking, the words flowed easily, like he had been waiting a long time to say this. "Aunt Maria was the patroness of this place. She brought me here for years, ever since I was small - to watch the concerts and operas, to meet the musicians, to play the pipe organ. This was where music became a joy for me, not a duty. I used to pretend I was the Phantom of the Opera, and I could live in this hall forever, and no one would ever find me and make me return to Vienna. When I turned sixteen I moved to live with her… but she died only a few months later." Roderich swallowed heavily, that smile and that glow and that memory fading. "So now this place is all I have left of her. And tomorrow…" He shook his head, as though still unable to believe it. "Tomorrow it will all be gone."

Another cold stab of pervasive guilt sat wedged in Gilbert's ribs. He'd never imagined that Roderich's connection to this place was so personal, so important. He wanted to say something, anything, to apologise or reassure or show he understood. "That sucks, dude." Shit.

But Roderich just nodded. "Yes. It does, rather."

"Do you think you'll move back to Vienna?" Not that he cared… Liar.

"I'm at university now. After that, maybe. I've been offered a number of performance contracts, so we'll see, I suppose."

Gilbert whistled. "Performance contracts, at your age?"

"I am eighteen." Roderich sniffed haughtily and straightened his back in an almost painful looking gesture of superiority. "I signed my first contract at six."

"Huh. Well I'm twenty-three and the last thing I signed was Antonio's butt when he passed out on New Year's."

Roderich's eyes widened and his lips parted in a tiny gasp of surprise. Then, looking almost surprised at his reaction, his entire body relaxed, and he laughed. Gilbert's spine tingled at the sound. And he wondered if maybe he had made the right decision coming here tonight, after all.

.

Another hour, two more beers, and Gilbert felt completely at ease. Which was really weird, actually, because he never felt at ease. Roderich sat with his back against the balcony balustrade, cravat loosened slightly and one leg crossed over the other; Gilbert leant back on his hands, feet sticking through the spaced wooden beams and dangling over the two-story drop. They'd spoken briefly of music (Roderich had at least heard of Rammstein, which was much more than Gilbert had given him credit for), tentatively on politics (Roderich really was a bloody hippy, no surprise there), and now Gilbert was just drunk enough to ask the thing he really, really wanted to know. "So. What's your boyfriend like?"

Roderich almost choked on his beer, his hand flying to cover his mouth. "My boyfriend?"

"Let me guess – eight feet tall with arms like barrels; does pull-ups with his teeth; fights bears in his spare time."

Roderich's lip twitched, though Gilbert couldn't tell if he was confused, amused, or furious. "What?!"

Gilbert lifted a hand in a silencing gesture. He didn't even know if he was teasing at this point, or hoping to put his own mind at ease. "Wait, no – a middle-aged property millionaire, flies you to Prague for the weekends and keeps a riding crop in his briefcase."

Roderich hand dropped to his chest, faintly alarmed. "Good Lord. I'm not sure where to start. Um… what makes you think I have a boyfriend?"

"Of course you have a boyfriend. Look at you, you look like you've just stepped off the pages of GQ magazine." Gilbert hurried to add, in case Roderich thought he actually read that metrosexual crap, "Francis has a subscription."

Gilbert was growing very familiar with that interesting shade of pink tingeing Roderich's cheeks. "I… don't know if you're complimenting or mocking me."

At first Gilbert could not fathom how Roderich could be so oblivious to how he looked, but then he remembered that Roderich thought skinny jeans and a cravat were the height of fashion. "Just stating a fact, Roddy."

"Well… thank you, I suppose." Roderich blinked dazedly a few times. "But I don't have a boyfriend."

He damn well better not have. Gilbert was almost embarrassedly relieved.

"Actually…" Roderich briefly caught his lower lip between his teeth before adding uncertainly, "I've never had one."

Gilbert's eyes flew wide, and the bottle in his hand felt dangerously close to cracking. Now the relief was tinged with something hot, something like possessiveness, because if Roderich had never had a boyfriend, then... Gilbert's lungs filled with air, his blood started to burn, his head was hazy…

"The closest I've had is Elizaveta."

The words hit Gilbert like cold water. He knew there was a reason he'd immediately disliked that she-devil. He took a swig of beer. "The guard dog, huh?"

Roderich ignored the jab. "She's no property millionaire, however, though I believe she does own a riding crop. And she only fights bears in arm-wrestle competitions at that leather club, The Bear Cave." Roderich nonchalantly sipped of beer. "I've never been, myself."

"Me neither," Gilbert lied, shuddering. He now had no doubt that Elizaveta could deliver on her threats of hair-pulling and ass-kicking.

"It hardly counts, though. We went on one date. She opened doors for me all night. It was a bit confusing."

Gilbert snickered. He hadn't expected how easy it would be to actually talk to Roderich. Not that he had that much experience in actual conversation. With his workmates there was always the sense he was playing the role of someone else; and always the fear they would find out. There was Francis and Antonio, of course, and he loved them to death, but they probably spent more time arguing than anything. And he and Ludwig spotted each other at the gym regularly, but they didn't actually speak that much - which had nothing to do with jealousy, but really, how the hell could his fifteen year old brother lift more than him, anyway?

No, in a way this was more careful than that; and at the same time, it was more honest. And if he kept getting distracted by the white curve of Roderich's neck or the lamplight glinting in his hair, well, Gilbert was only human after all. It didn't mean the pretty Austrian wasn't still a snobby, deluded…

"What is your boyfriend like?"

The question smashed like a hammer through Gilbert's thoughts. "Hey, hey now," he spluttered, sitting up straight and holding a hand out in protestation. "That's a bit presumptuous."

Roderich almost laughed. "You asked me first!" he replied, far too reasonably.

"Yeah, but you're obvious."

Roderich just stared for a moment. "Do you even realise when you're being offensive?"

"I find someone will usually let me know."

Roderich raised an eyebrow. "Gilbert."

"Yeah?"

"I'm letting you know."

"It wasn't an insult!" Gilbert protested. "I just mean you're, y'know... pretty. Arty looking. Roddy, seriously, you're wearing a cravat. Now, look at me." Gilbert gestured over himself. "Sensible haircut, stain on my shirt, my socks don't match. Why would you possibly think that I was…" He broke off, loudly cleared his throat, and attempted an offhanded shrug. "You know."

Roderich folded his arms, obviously not about to let Gilbert off that easily. "I do?"

"Like that."

"Like what?"

Gilbert swallowed dryly, glanced around as though someone might be listening, then leant forward slightly. "That I was…" But he could not say the word. "Why would you think I liked guys?" he finally spat, as though the words might burn him.

Roderich looked thoroughly unimpressed. "Putting aside the fact that you cannot conclusively prove one's sexuality from their appearance…"

"I dunno, Roddy, that cravat's sayin' a lot…"

Roderich ignored him. "There is the little fact that you were in a gay bar last night."

"Oh, that!" Gilbert laughed loudly, too loudly, and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. Unfortunately he knocked over his beer. Then he sent it skidding across the ground when he tried to retrieve it. Then it flew under the balustrade, over the balcony, and after a tense, silent, horrific second that felt like an hour, it shattered spectacularly on the stage below.

Silence. Gilbert couldn't move. He daren't breathe. And oh shit, his face really better not be as red as it felt. "Um," he said finally, drawing himself into an upright seated position and clasping his hands together in a desperate attempt to claw back some measure of dignity. "I don't know what you're talking about."

And there was that raised eyebrow again.

Gilbert finally deflated, and an old, familiar dread grew steadily beneath his skin. He'd never admitted it. Oh, he'd gone home with plenty of pretty boys; he'd had a crush on David Bowie since he was five; he'd once worn nothing but leather boots and a rainbow flag in a Pride parade float manned by Eastern European drag queens. But he'd never admitted it. And as his heart beat uncomfortably, and cold, stinging sweat rose to his neck, he wasn't sure he could.

"What does that tattoo mean? The one on your arm?"

Roderich's voice was deceptively casual, and through the rising panic, Gilbert realised that he was changing the subject. Which was far more polite, kind, and bloody decent than Gilbert deserved. Gilbert took a moment to breathe out the irrational fear; then, like always, he pretended nothing had happened.

"This is nothing." Gilbert flexed his bicep and ran a hand over the intricate black pattern. "Woke up in a gutter the morning after Francis' twenty-first, and there it was."

"Gosh," said Roderich, staring at Gilbert's arm intently. "I do hope you were tested for hepatitis."

Gilbert paused. "I've… never had that reaction to that story. But hey, if you wanna see one that does mean something…" Gilbert twisted so his back was to Roderich, and lifted his shirt to his neck.

Gilbert had searched years for the right artist to ink his back, finally finding a hot Belarusian chick who was awesomely talented, if not slightly psychotic. It had taken weeks, and cost a fortune, but it was worth it all. The massive black eagle that spread across his back and shoulders signified his past, his blood; his passion and his pride. It was part of who he was. Gilbert knew it was impressive, and judging by Roderich's sharp intake of breath, he thought so too. So maybe Gilbert flexed his shoulders slightly more than was strictly necessary - he might not be ready to admit anything, but he didn't go to the gym for nothing.

Gilbert turned back slowly, a smug grin on his face, and took the opportunity to sit just the slightest bit closer. "Yep," he boasted, giving a nonchalant shrug as he cracked his knuckles. "I work out."

Roderich's face was red, lips set in a hard line, hands clenched on his knees. Gilbert couldn't tell if he was trying not to laugh, or overcome with lust. Probably the latter.

"Don't try to deny it, Roddy, you know how smoking hot this body is."

That did it. Roderich's lips turned upwards, and he turned away to hide a brief laughing fit behind his hand. Gilbert wasn't sure what was the bigger revelation: that he was not offended, or that he'd actually been trying to make Roderich laugh the entire time. The sound made his whole body light and warm and he was filled with stupid pride that he was the cause of it.

"Anyway," said Roderich finally, concealing the last of his laughter with a cough."The Prussian Eagle. It's an amazing tattoo. Why…" He hesitated briefly. "Why do you call yourself Prussian?"

Gilbert grin fell when he remembered Roderich's reaction in the bar last night. "Are you gonna tell me it's a 'militaristic model of fascism' again?"

Roderich had the good grace to look slightly apologetic. "No. I am genuinely interested, Gilbert. Tell me, please."

Damn, Roderich did look pretty when he said 'please' like that. Gilbert swallowed heavily and dragged his brain back from that very dangerous line of thinking. "All right, it's like this. First of all, Prussia is tough. It built itself from nothing into a place strong enough to unify an Empire and survive three hundred years of relentless attack. And it's misunderstood. People see it for its wrongs, and ignore everything else. They judge it without knowing it. They hate it without understanding it. And I guess I just get that, you know?"

Roderich's face softened and he nodded. "Yes. I get that." But of course he got that. Roderich knew exactly what it was to be judged, every single day, and Gilbert was an idiot for not seeing how alike he and this Austrian musician actually were. Gilbert protected himself with arrogance, with violence, with denial; Roderich covered himself with a layer of defiant superiority. But in the end, they were both hiding the same thing.

And maybe Gilbert was done hiding.

He leant forward slightly, until both he and Roderich were sitting sideways against the balustrade, cross-legged and facing each other. "One more thing about Prussia," said Gilbert quietly.

Roderich leant closer to listen, head tilted curiously and his hands clasped in his lap. Whenever the man moved, he did it so damned gracefully. Another wave of lilac made Gilbert's head swim.

"Friedrich." Gilbert pounded a fist to his chest proudly. "Friedrich's my bro."

"Friedrich the Great?" Roderich asked, forehead furrowing tentatively.

"Yeah." Gilbert's blood was throbbing in his veins, and it felt like the words he whispered were engulfing the silent hall. But he'd made up his mind. And though he'd never told this to anyone, there would never be a better time to say it, or a more understanding person to hear it. "Whenever people say shit… insulting shit, y'know, about being…" He faltered, but forced himself to stay strong. "About being gay. It hurts. Because I know – deep inside, I've always known – that they're talking about me."

Roderich's eyes went very wide, and he stayed very still, but he did not speak. Gilbert's skin was burning, and he'd never felt so vulnerable in his life. But he would say this. He had to say this.

"Then, I think of Friedrich. Prussia's greatest king. The most badass military leader of all time. A man who moved a nation from a time of darkness into a time of light. A man with vision, and influence, and passion, who had the power to change the face of Europe." Gilbert paused, but only briefly, because if he thought too deeply, he knew he would stop speaking. "A man who, just like me, was gay. I think of Friedrich, and I ask myself why I should possibly be ashamed to have something in common with one of the greatest men in history."

Gilbert was immediately sure he'd said too much. "Shit, that was lame, I..."

Roderich quickly interrupted. "For me it was Tchaikovsky."

Gilbert's heart stuttered wildly. For the first time in his entire life, it felt like someone understood him. And his mouth was still open in surprise, and Roderich was staring rather uncertainly at his hands, and say something, damn it! "Plus, when I was a kid, I liked the idea of being a Prussian knight in shining armour."

"Oh, gosh." Roderich breathed a soft, faintly amazed laugh. "I think we would have played well together."

Gilbert smirked and lightly nudged Roderich's knee. "Never would have taken you for a fellow knight, Roddy!"

"No, I just…" Roderich awkwardly brushed back his fringe, before finishing in a mumble, "… rather liked the idea of being rescued by one." He closed his eyes and whispered, "Now that was lame."

"No, that was adorable."

Roderich's violet eyes met his, and Gilbert forgot to be mortified that he'd actually said the word adorable out loud. This went beyond anything he had ever felt. It was like his heart was going to burst. And Roderich was so close, with his perfect hair in his perfect eyes, and his skin like moonlight, and his stupid, stupid cravat, and oh God, Francis and Antonio were right, he wasn't pretty, he was gorgeous…

"Gilbert."

"Yeah?"

"Why are you here?"

"I…" may as well stop lying. "I knew you'd be here."

Roderich reached for Gilbert's hand, and smiled like he'd guessed that already.

.

Gilbert woke slowly to the sensation of his phone buzzing silently in his pocket, and Roderich asleep against him. He took a moment to marvel at just how nice it felt - warm and comfortable, like everything was right with the world - then carefully retrieved his phone so as not to disturb Roderich's rest.

There were twenty-three missed calls from his coworkers, and a massive stack of messages. Gilbert's confusion to how he'd missed them turned quickly to alarm, a cold dread settling in his gut as he scanned the texts with increasing panic.

Gil, ring back. Can't reach you. Have important news about the Libelle Hall job. 

Gil, dude, the demolition time's been rescheduled. Answer your phone.

Gilbert for fucks sake answer your phone!

Demo going ahead at 6am. You'd better be there or there'll be shit.

Gilbert looked at his phone, looked at the early morning light entering the windows, and looked at his watch.

Six a.m.

"Well, shit."

Then an excavator claw shattered the ceiling.

.

Roderich's body jolted him awake, and he instantly fumbled for his glasses. "What…"

He barely registered the crashing sound before Gilbert's hand gripped his and hauled him to his feet. "RUN!"

Later, Roderich would not recall exactly how they emerged unscathed from the rapid destruction of Libelle Hall. He scarcely felt his legs move as Gilbert dragged him down the narrow staircase, the deafening sound of smashing wood and breaking windows shattering the air. The floor shook like an earthquake beneath his feet, and the only reason Roderich was not terrified was that he was just so very confused.

"What on Earth is going on?" He shouted to be heard.

"What do you think?" Gilbert yelled back. "They're flooring the place. Just keep running!"

Finally, the fear kicked in. As they darted across the stage, a massive piece of ceiling crashed through a balcony, instantly flattening a row of seats. Roderich's head swam sickeningly and his blood roared in his ears. No one knew they were in here... How were they going to get out... What if...

But Gilbert's hand was in his. Gilbert's hand was in his, and it filled Roderich with an inexplicable, infuriating sense that everything would be all right.

Reaching the end of the stage, Gilbert pulled Roderich through the side door, into a narrow corridor filled with overflowing boxes and strong-smelling costumes, then stopped at a red-draped window. Roderich's head snapped into focus, and his heart dropped to his feet. "No."

"Listen!" Gilbert placed a hand on Roderich's chest, his fierce red eyes burning into Roderich's own. "We're only one story up. There's no time to find a door."

Roderich shook his head firmly, even as Gilbert's hand burnt his skin, even as the entire building shook with the force of falling balconies and shattering walls. In his panic, he reverted to superiority. "How dare you? I refuse to..."

Gilbert abruptly turned around, headed back up the corridor, and Roderich's entire body jolted frozen in shock. Gilbert was leaving – why was he leaving – oh God, how could Gilbert leave him?! Roderich couldn't breathe, and his mind wouldn't work, and he was going to panic, and… and why was Gilbert digging through that box of props?

"What… what are you doing?"

"Fair Roderich." Gilbert finally turned, placing a flimsy knight's helmet on his head, and brandishing… oh, for heaven's sake… brandishing a plastic sword. Roderich's fear vanished in a haze of utter bemusement.

"...huh?"

Gilbert stood tall, one hand on his hip and a rather manic grin plastered on his face. "My name is Sir Gilbert the Awesome, and I am here to rescue you!"

Roderich stared. Gilbert stared back. A massive crash rattled the window. "Are you insane?!"

Gilbert lifted his hand into the air, throwing back his shoulders and raising his chin, looking for all the world like a Shakespearean actor about to deliver a speech. "You are startled, Fair Roderich, but never fear! It is my sworn duty to protect you!"

"Oh my goodness you're insane..." Roderich shook his head, trying to make sense of this, and he was not amused, and he was not laughing, blast it all!

Another crash. This time the floor shifted beneath them and Roderich had to grip the windowsill to keep from falling. There was the fear again… "Gilbert! This place is falling apart and you are standing there in a knight's costume!"

Gilbert nodded and tossed the sword over his shoulder. "Better head through that window then."

He had a point. He was insane, but he had a point. "You go first."

Gilbert rushed to Roderich's side and threw open the window shutters. They were perhaps four metres above a colourful flower garden, leading onto a large green lawn bordered by far, well-tended hedges. "What sort of knight would I be to abandon my fair da…"

"If you call me a damsel, I swear Gilbert, I will hurl you through this window myself."

"…dapper young gentleman," Gilbert finished smoothly. "Now what we are going to do, is climb through the window-frame, then I shall hoist your delicate frame atop my mighty shoulder…"

"Gilbert!"

"Okay, okay, then we jump, and hope that flowerbed cushions our fall. Are you ready?"

"No."

"Good, let's go."

The next few seconds were a blur. Roderich vaguely recalled trying to cling to Gilbert's hand as he clambered over the windowsill; his blood pounding dizzyingly to his head; Gilbert flashing him a grin like this was nothing more than an afternoon stroll. They were on the ground before Roderich even made the decision to jump. His arm stung where a branch scratched it, and his lungs screamed for air, but Roderich barely had time to even feel relieved.

"Now get up. Run!" Gilbert grabbed his arm and they ran, as fast as Roderich's aching chest would allow, as far as they could across the vast, open lawn until they finally collapsed, breathless and exhausted, against a low, green hedge surrounded by an orange construction barrier.

Roderich wasn't sure he could think, or feel, or breathe. He was vaguely aware that his shirt sleeve was ripped, and his hair was awful, but he'd just jumped out a window so those were probably trivial matters right now. The world slowly turned right side up, and he was brought back to his senses by the feel of the bush digging into his back and the sound of Gilbert's voice beside him.

"Shit," Gilbert muttered between gulps of air. "I think I might be fired."

And Roderich couldn't help it. He laughed. He laughed until the tension beneath his skin lessened, until it broke, until it drained away and he was suddenly aware of nothing else but Gilbert's shoulder pressed to his, and the realisation that he was laughing, too.

Gilbert reached for Roderich's collar. "Allow me, Fair Roderich, your cravat's all loose…"

Roderich rolled his eyes. The man had a serious obsession with his choice of neckwear. "And you are still wearing that ridiculous hat!"

Gilbert grinned and adjusted it. "I think it suits me."

No had had ever made Roderich laugh the way this mad Prussian did. "Sir Gilbert the Awesome."

"Yeah, baby. Your knight in shining armour."

Roderich had to fight not to cover his face, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. Oh, if Elizaveta ever heard about this...

"But seriously…" Gilbert's eyes softened, and he reached up to pluck a stray leaf from Roderich's hair. "You all right?"

Roderich felt the heat from Gilbert's touch tingle across his scalp and down his spine. "Yes."

A tremor in the ground, a startling bang, and as he turned his head, the last of Roderich's laughter died away. "Actually… no." Because there was his beautiful Libelle Hall crumbling in the distance, lines of smoke silhouetted against the grey morning sky. Harsh machinery surrounded the golden building, smashed it to pieces, reduced Roderich's memory and joy to rubble and dust.

"Well," Roderich whispered. He let out a long breath, a bitter ache tightening his throat. His glasses fogged as his eyes began to sting. "I suppose that's it."

Gilbert moved as though to speak, then stopped, at a loss. Instead he slowly removed his hat, then he took something from his pocket and pressed it into Roderich's hand. A short black peg, attached to a little white disc, with a single word - clarabella - stamped across the flat top. One of the pipe organ stops. Gilbert must have ripped it from the instrument itself.

It was the final proof of how very wrong Roderich was in ever thinking Gilbert understood nothing. That one gesture – that one organ stop – and Roderich felt the breath knocked from him. As his pounding heart finally started to settle, he looked up slowly. Gilbert's white hair stood up in wild peaks, and his startling eyes were not nearly so harsh this close – just very bright, and very deep, and staring at Roderich like this was the first time Gilbert had ever seen him.

And Roderich could not stop himself. He leant forward and kissed him.

For a second, Gilbert sat frozen, his lips motionless. Roderich panicked. He didn't know what he was doing, he'd made a mistake, he'd never actually kissed someone, and how was one actually supposed to do this?! But then Gilbert kissed back, and Roderich might have made an embarrassing sort of squeak of surprise, but that very quickly did not matter much. In fact nothing – not Libelle Hall, not its demolition, not Gilbert's ego or Roderich's superiority or either of their stupid stubbornness – none of it mattered now. Nothing except for Gilbert's lips moving on his, strong and soft, parting his lips, touching his tongue, and oh, that was how one was supposed to do this…

When their lips parted, Roderich was practically shaking, and Gilbert looked almost as stunned as Roderich felt. Roderich hesitated just long enough for an inkling of doubt to set in, but it vanished the second Gilbert squeezed his hand. "Hey, here's something awesome. The dragonfly - the Libelle - is a symbol of new beginnings, did you know?"

Gilbert grinned proudly, and Roderich shook his head in surprise, an impressed smile tugging on his lips. Libelle. Dragonfly. It was what Aunt Maria had used to call him. "How do you know a thing like that?"

Gilbert just winked one brilliant red eye. "You'll be amazed by the things I know, baby."

Before Roderich could laugh, or scoff, or even think how to respond, Gilbert's arm encircled his waist and pulled him back into the kiss. It should have been astonishing. Instead it just felt natural, and right, like they had been leading to this moment all along. Roderich placed a hand on Gilbert's chest, felt his heavy heartbeat joining with his own; and when Gilbert's fingers threaded gently into his hair, Roderich thought that there had never been a place he belonged as much as this.

Libelle Hall was being destroyed before them. But between them, something honest, and scary, and wonderful, was being created.

The End.

.

Of Ponies and Edelweiss

Disclaimer: This story belongs to George deValier. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing.

[petitprincess1]

How To Torture Your Heroes

Summary: Demencia and Clem teach the gross cockroaches of the world how to properly obtain and torture your enemy better than some nerdboy could!

Words: 2,454

Characters: Demencia, Flug, Clemencia, and Black Hat (briefly)

Warnings: A bit of torture, but nothing too bad.

I had too much fun with this

Demencia sat at the metallic table with her arms crossed and glaring at the shaking Cam-Bot and Flug, who was clearly smirking underneath his bag. She just narrowed her eyes at him, while, at the same time, erratic noises and lights that were going on beside her. She then slowly glanced over to her side at seeing Clemencia strapped up in a chair, wrapped in a straitjacket, and her mouth covered by a mask. The unicorn witch was currently vibrating in the chair, hearts in her eyes changing various of colors, and her powers were sparking from her horn. She was also making many high-pitched squeaking sounds and they only became louder the moment Dem’s eyes were on her.

Demencia’s stare went back to Flug, who was setting up Cam-Bot and ordering, “Alright, remember that Black Hat wants you to do this. Honestly, I wouldn’t care and the only commercials I would have you do is one for rabies vaccinations or one where we send you off to space.”

Flug was expecting Demencia to make a “witty” comeback like her becoming queen of the moon-people or something that idiotically implausible, but she just kept glaring at him. He just rolled his eyes and then looked as Cam-Bot’s recording light come on, saying, while holding up cards for her to speak off of, “Okay, Cam-Bot is recording. Go, Demencia.”

Demencia narrowed her eyes further at him before speaking in an even, annoyed tone, “Welcome, you bottom feeders, are you sick and tired of using the same old methods to capture and torture heroes? Do they always get away from your clutches? Always stealing your shit-” “Demencia, stick to the cards.” “Ugh! Always stealing your equipment,” she mocked in an obnoxiously nerdy voice by plugging her nose and then continued, “and leaving a mess everywhere? Then, fear not, for- this is so fucking stupid! Couldn’t you at least have tried to make the script sound like me, instead of your disgusting, lameass nerd language!?”

Flug pinched at where the bridge of his nose would be and then spoke in a professional manner, “You know, I really did try to, Demencia. However, you must understand that it is quite difficult to translate caveman speak to our natural, everyday colloquialism.”

Dem slammed her hands down on the table and shouted at him, “Say that to my face, punching bag!”

“You’re literally a few feet in front of me! How is this not saying it to your fa-” “Because it isn’t, chicken shit! If you were brave enough, you would say it right here, instead of-” The two began bickering over one another. Flug giving out the most intellectual disses the world has ever known, while Demencia resorted to “colorful” language, gory descriptions of Flug’s demise, and the occasional, never defeated “bleh bleh bleh” method. 

Meanwhile, Clem watched the two fight amongst one another like a child watching their parents argue. She casually shimmied out of her straitjacket, unbuckled the straps, and took off the mask. Skipping over to Flug, she looked down at the cards in his hands and asked, “Can I see those?”

“Yeah, sure,” Flug said absentmindedly, as he just went back to quarreling with Demencia like the goof that he is. Clemencia just went back to her seat and sat down, reading over the cue cards. Cam-Bot turned off its recording for a few seconds to look in-between the two villains and shook its ‘head’, wondering how it hasn’t short-circuited from all this madness. The only thing that was able to break them out of their squabble was Clemencia shouting, “Whaaaaaat!? Dangle them over hydrochloric acid? Painful injections? Lead them to you with what they love? What is this absolute crap? I thought you were supposed to be the best in the business, Flug!”

Flug immediately put a hand to his chest, feeling absolutely offended, while Demencia snatched at the cards and started reading them over. The scientist shouted, “Okay, listen here you randomly generated Tumblr OC, I don’t need someone like you telling me that-”

“I'm gonna stop you right there because you clearly do! None of this would truly work! It's, dare I say, old hat! I mean, who dangles people over acid anymore?” Clemencia asked, while Demencia finished reading and winced, “As much as I hate to agree with sparkles over here, I think she's got a point.”

Flug crossed his arms, scoffing and sputtering, before taking a deep breath and giving in, “You know what? Fine! I'll let you both take over, see how well you do, but I'm not gonna be responsible for how Black Hat reacts!”

The two multicolored women weren't even listening to him, as the two were writing down suggestions and even making some pictures on their garbage writ- er…“script”. Clemencia then pulled down a large, long projection screen out of nowhere and the two hid behind the screen. Clem whispered, “Aaaaaaaannnndddd...action!”

Cam-Bot just shook its head and then rewound the footage before starting it back up again. Suddenly, an image of a half lizard and half unicorn skull crying out rainbows in front of heart that had nails all over it appeared on the screen. The two magically poofed in front of the screen. Demencia was holding a bloodied baseball bat that had nails all over it and Clemencia held a pink and gold axe that had hearts within the blade and pink bows along the handle. Flug groaned, as he sat down with a mug in his hand that...possibly held coffee, “Oh boy.”

Demencia greeted, “Welcome, you gross boils of the underworld, it's your ruthless, badass Demencia to teach you scrubs about how to truly capture and torture your victims, whether they be a hero or a disgusting, useless, sidekick, nerdboy!”

Flug gave loud sigh, but didn't say anything. The lizard woman pointed to Clemencia and introduced, “And who better to check over such methods than with- Gah!”

Clemencia suddenly brought her into a spine-crushing hug and lifted her off of the ground, exclaiming, “Than with her no-as-equally-but-pretty-dang-close-at-least-hope-so-or-I’ll-cry-in-the-tub-again-tonight gorgeous girlfriend, Clemencia!”

Dem growled, as she hit her over head with the bat, “I'm not your girlfriend, dumb broad!”

Each hit that she made just made a squeaky toy noise. Flug blinked at the both of them and then cleared his throat. The two stared at him before going back to their normal poses and Dem went on like nothing happened, “Than with this horrible excuse of a hero over here!”

The unicorn witch smiled and giggled, while her horn made random sparks of pink magic. The screen then changed while Dem continued, “Now, some idiots would give you stupid little ideas that you can lead your victim by using things that they love,” a drawing of Clemencia had her being led to a trap by a Demencia doll on a string, “or being hung over acid,” another image of Clem being hung over acid that she just changed into jello with a confused, smelly Flug, “or, even lamer, with injections,” and then the final was another Flug with the words “gross nerd” over his head poking a confused hero in the eye with a syringe.

Clemencia then quickly added in, “Well, I never thought they were lame or anything, just that I know you can do it a bit better with that big boy brain of yours, Fluggy~!”

Flug corrected, “That’s Dr. Flug Slys to you.”

“Ya got it, Flug-bug!” Clemencia smiled with a cute little wink afterwards, making Flug just take bigger gulps of his “coffee”. Demencia put a finger to her mouth, fake gagging, and asked in an annoyed tone, “Are you two done being weird?”

Clem mumbled, looking slightly concerned, “...I-I was being…” and then a fully forced smile came across her face and she said cheerfully, “Yes, I am, my wonderful savior! ...Um,” she then levitated Flug’s mug to herself, grabbed it, and then tossed it right into his face with a blank expression. The mug spilt all over Flug upon impact and he fell back with a loud thud, shouting, “WHYYYYY!?”

Demencia blinked at the whole and then went back to the commercial, “Anyway, a little help from Dem and Clem will get your ass back in line with these three easy options! Number one: Don’t go for all that complicated garbage! Your own body should be plenty to attract those dumb heroes.”

The image on the screen changed to a drawing of a hero cornering Demencia in an alleyway, while she was wearing chainmail armor lingerie that had a the Black Hat logo on her panties. Clemencia’s eyes turned into hearts, despite one of them twitching at the “dumb heroes” comment, and added in, “Which should be plenty easy, if you’re as sexy as Demencia! However, if you’re not- which a good majority of you aren’t -then this second option is for you! Number two: As much as we heroes love kicking your butts from here to Atreno City,” a Clem drawing had her kicking villains, while they’re curled up on the ground, like Flamme, Mother Poltergeist, Mawrasite, and, of course, Flug, “there’s nothing we love more than peaceful agreements.”

Next was a copy-and-pasted picture of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, but they had a bunch of villains’ and heroes’ faces drawn poorly over all the political figures’ faces with Clem and Dem sharing Thomas Jefferson’s face. The actual document was scribbled with Demencia’s crayon and Clemencia’s sparkly marker writing that read: “Blah blah blah,” “Dem for president,” “Clem was here <3,” and a signature “Flug the virgin.” Clemencia went on, “However, we also have a high sense of smell to know when there's bullshit afoot, so try to at least seem a bit more genuine than what you’re actually doing,” a picture of an annoyed Vanity appeared at a dinner table with Dark Phantom in a suit, who was looking extremely nervous and holding a ray gun behind his back.

Demencia then said, “And, finally, the torture! The fun part! Now that you’ve clearly used the first method to capture your foe because the second one is for complete morons-”

Clemencia shifted on her and chuckled nervously, “Heehee...right…”

The lizard hybrid then went on, “The best way that you can torture your hero is by causing them the slowest amount of pain possible and that their screams are filling your entire lair!”

The image on the screen showed a hero tied up to a chair, looking absolutely terrified, while Demencia was doing various tactics on them like using thumb-screws to drill through their fingers, using a red hot iron rod to brand their skin, or reading bad fanfiction. All the while the hero seemed to be in extreme anguish. Demencia then added, “However, if the hero is somehow resilient, you can also do the same to the sidekick or family,” the drawings changed to her doing the same to those people, instead of the hero.

“Whichever one you do, the hero should be able to do whatever you wish after a whole 24 hours of torture, but if you’re as good as me, you’ll have it done in less than 30 minutes. Heroes are absolutely traumatized afterwards though, so make sure to throw them out afterwards,” drawing Dem was throwing the hero into the incinerator, “Although, that may be hard because most heroes are stupid and useless already to begin with. Right, Clemencia? ….Right!?”

…

Dem growled as she sharply turned to her, only to stop at seeing Clem holding onto herself and also shivering. Clemencia started tearing up and she stuttered, “I-I’m...I’m n-not useless….o-or….stupid...r-right?”

The lizard hybrid just bit her lip and looked away, causing Clem to whimper and then teleport out of there. Right as soon as she did, Flug came back into the lab, holding a cloth covered ice pack on his bagged face, and asked, looking around, “Hey, where did the poster child for insulin shots go to?”

He then noticed Demencia looking somewhat saddened and guilty, as if she made a mistake. Flug was about to reach out to her and ask if she was alright, but then suddenly the projector caught alight by red flames, as Black Hat rose from the flames. His eye completely black with a red, slitted pupil and his form shifting and changing as eyes, mouths, and tentacles appeared. The tentacles squeezed around the two, strangling them, and Cam-Bot quickly ran out out of there before it got taken. Black snarled at the two, “What is going on here!?”

Demencia made a stupid comment about Black Hat always taking her breath away, while Flug made his famous dying seal squeaks.

At White Hat’s manor, as the moon was rising, Clemencia hung half her torso off of the balcony connected to her room, sighing at all that Demencia said and wondering where exactly she went wrong. She messed with the bow on her ponytail, while her unicorn hoodie’s eyes started tearing up. She mumbled to herself, “Maybe I’m just too bubbly at times...and I doubt myself too much...and...I eat too much cake! Ugh! I need to change my ways! I need to get tough and more wild like Demmie!”

She then lifted up her body back up to the top and the moment that she did, she felt lips press against her cheek, as well as catching the scent of roses, spray paint, and raw meat. Clem summoned a large mallet and shouted, “How dare you steal Demencia’s scent!?”

She then looked around and saw nobody there, but did see a note placed onto the railing of the balcony. She tilted her head as she placed the mallet back into her hair and grabbed onto the note to see what it said: “I wasn’t talking about you being useless or anything like that, dum-dum! You’re pretty...alright. I just gotta keep up an image, ya know? Now stop being so emotional or else I’ll have to cuddle you! >:3c”

Clemencia blinked at the letter before her eyes turned into hearts and a dopey smile grew across her face, while hugging the paper close to her chest. Yeah, it wasn’t anything all that poetic, but it was absolutely beautiful in her eyes. She then looked down at at her balcony and noticed some red and green paint that was on the railing of where the note was. She turned the note around and saw red and green painted words that read: “By the way, got ya a surprise! Turn around!”

The unicorn witch spun around with a bright smile and saw a bomb with “Dem waz here” spray-painted onto it, making Clem coo, “Awwww, Demmie!!!”

I’ll probably make some fanfic about the other two...uh...*looks at hand* Shite Bat and Plug

[shirtlesssammy]

13x23: Let the Good Times Roll

Then:

Team Free Will 3.0!

Now:

Sam gives the new recruits a rundown on the sorry state of our world. (Extra meta credit to the show for letting Jim Beaver talk about The Shape of Water. I’m pretty sure he was going to be in it but couldn’t due to other commitments. I can’t find that news now, but here’s his tweet about it.)

Dean calls. Apparently, Cas, Jack, and him were on a hunt for a case, and found some Kardashian loving werewolves to take out.

Jack’s still learning (and Dean’s willingly training him. Awww.) While Cas takes out a werewolf outside, Sam, Dean, and Jack take out the rest inside. I love that the lesson about silver bullets doesn’t really apply for Jack, but he still wants to learn. (And, in hindsight, it matters so much that he does learn how to fight like a human.)

Meanwhile, Bobby and Mary take a nice stroll through the countryside, summing up the new world order.

Yay for Rowena and Charlie Thelma and Louise-ing it through the Southwest. I’m a bit more concerned about Ketch “out doing Ketch things.” Uh, that man is a cold blooded killer. Is he redeemed? He. Killed. Magda. (Natasha: And Eileen. Horribly.) And then Bobby and Mary share a look. (Or, as the script says: They eyefuck.) The lovely interlude is interrupted when they see blood and find Maggie, another refugee, dead, head bashed against a rock.

Sam and Dean are back at the bunker, and that whole werewolf hunt was a lesson for Jack. Dean wants to retire -on the beach with Cas. If Jack can hone his powers, Sam and Dean are going to get their well deserved retirement. SOB.

Jack, bby, is having a nightmare though. Dean rushes to his room and they have a father-son moment.

They share a moment of mutual nightmares (and we relive au!Kevin’s death again!), and then Dean gives a wonderful, heartfelt, motivating talk to Jack. It’s such a beautiful moment to highlight that Dean will never stop being a parent, and he’ll never stop caring and fighting for his family. It’s also, I think, a moment that will sustain Jack next season. He’s family, and Dean’s his family, and as Dean says, “we look after our own.”

Sam rushes to tell Dean about Maggie, and cut to them all standing around her body.

Jack takes it personally, but Sam tries to reassure him that it’s not his fault.

Back at the bunker, they start interrogating another refugee. She is shocked to learn that Maggie is dead, and admits that there was a boy that she had a crush on. She probably went to see him the previous night. Jack flaps out before the others.

The boy is named Nate, and he works at the Gas and Go, and Jack is full on rage nephilim. He blasts him, and starts to choke him, demanding an answer to Maggie’s death. TFW bust in and Cas tries to intercede, but is tossed across the room (No Jack!), and then Dean shoots Jack (to get his attention.) Jack, realizing his error, runs out in self-loathing defeat.

Jack starts beating himself up literally and figuratively, and I was tearing up a bit during this scene. He fits so well with TFW --self-loathing and the inability to accept himself and his limitations/uniqueness.

At the Gas and Go, quick thinking Cas gives Nate the FBI cover (with aliases Rowland, Knowles, and Williams, heh. And Dean’s so proud of his quick-thinking husband, he flashes the peace sign. Goober.)

The place starts to shake and lights begin to flicker --and it’s clear an angel is forthcoming. AGH.

Jack is still hurting himself in the forest when Lucifer pops in. BLARG.

Sam, Dean, and Cas make a run for it, but before they can escape in Baby, Michael appears. BLARG.

Dean lights and throws their entire container of holy oil at Michael (aw, I remember when Cas originally obtained it to keep Rafael in a ring of fire) and they hightail it out of there.

Meanwhile, Lucifer lets Jack know that it was Sam that trapped him in the AU world. He tries giving Jack the “we’re not human” speech and tries to convince Jack to leave with him. And then Jack, who couldn’t possibly get ANY CUTER, starts talking about Star Wars and light sabers, and OMG. Season 14: Supernatural in Space!

He also worries about Sam, Dean, and Cas, but Lucifer tells him that this is their opportunity to escape their past, their sins, and start over. Hmmm, I mean, Jack’s made mistakes, but dude, he doesn’t really have a past, or sins. Don’t drag him into your pity party. However, Lucifer sells his plan well enough that Jack agrees.

At the bunker, Bobby and Mary discuss Maggie’s death. Jack and Lucifer come strolling in like it’s nbd. Mary springs into action, telling Bobby to call Sam. Lucifer is here to bring Maggie back to life, per Jack’s wishes. I’m getting a Pet Semetary vibe with this, but it’s all good in the end. (Sidenote: Bobby called Sam - and presumably Dean and Cas - “boys”. Gah.) And before TFW can make it back to the bunker, Jack and Lucifer are gone.

*Mid Episode Aesthetic Break*

TFW slightly panics when they get back to find that Lucifer’s come and gone with Jack. (Like, that old problem again, amirite?) They split up to investigate leads. Sam gets to gently interrogate Maggie and ask who killed her. Eek. She didn't catch an ID on his face...but she saw his eyes.

Cue Jack and Lucifer… They stargaze together in familial bliss out in the woods while Michael starts his assault on the bunker.

Lights begin to flicker and the front door rattles. Sam orders Mary and Bobby to take Maggie out through the garage. Sam, Dean, and Cas await Michael. He busts in, they all pull out their weapons and proceed to...fire fruitlessly at Michael while he floats down from the upper balcony like he’s Peter Pan.

Michael tells them all that they can fly if they’ll only believe quickly gets the upper hand on all three of our heroes. He reveals that he made a deal with Lucifer to get to their world. Luci helped him open a rift. (See? I told you not to let Lucifer stay, Sam.) In return, Lucifer gets Jack and Michael gets everything else. (Lucifer. Dude. I love Jack and hate you... but that's a hell of a lopsided deal.)

Michael gives Dean a little preview of his idea of “saving the world” promising Dean that he will be the first to die – the first person he “saves.” Um. Thanks but no thanks, dickhole. Dean slowly suffocates in Michael's grip and Sam prays to Jack for help.

Jack, that sweet little cupcake, hears Sam's prayer. He realizes that Sam's begging for help and flaps away to the bunker to join the fight.

Dean continues to choke when...WAPOW WAPOW! Jack uses his super nephilim force to knock Michael down. Jack goes full glowy eyes on Michael, twisting his hand into a fist until Michael writhes in agony. “Lucifer, we had a deal,” Michael gasps and Jack turns to Lucifer and asks what that means. (Aw, Jack.) Welp. Lucifer was gonna get the fuck off the planet with Jack while Michael laid waste to Earth. Thus, all the stargazing and romanticizing Star Wars.

Cas is pissed that Lucifer would just abandon ship (why are you surprised, Castiel?) and Sam ratchets Jack’s shock up another level. Sam reveals that Lucifer killed Maggie. Though Lucifer initially denies it, Jack's eyes glow and he compels Lucifer to tell the truth. (Me: Stop thinking about Tom Riddle in Harry Potter compelling people to “tell the truth.” Jack’s a precious smol nougat. He’s no Voldemort! Also me…)

“She saw me and she screamed so I crushed her skull with my bare hands and it was warm and wet and I liked it.” It's somewhat refreshing to hear Lucifer say this because he’s the ultimate spin machine, constantly covering up his misdeeds. However, it’s also so disturbing to hear Lucifer's true thoughts that hide under his smirking exterior.

Jack's face falls. “You're not my father,” he says. “You're a monster.” Lucifer screams in rage. He tells Jack that humans are worthless, and that he doesn't need Jack. In a flash, he slits Jack's throat and sucks out a big wallop of grace. NOOOOOOOO!

Lucifer grabs a weakened Jack and Sam lunges for Jack...and then Lucifer flaps out of there with both of them. Dean and Cas are left alone in the bunker with Michael.

Cut to Sam getting tossed across a church floor. Lucifer kicks Sam, his very favorite punching bag. And he's got Jack just where he wants him. Mustache twirl, mustache twirl.

Back with Michael, Cas demands to know a way to stop Lucifer. Michael tells them that Lucifer is supercharged with Jack's grace...and now he can destroy the universe. Um. Oops. (Does stolen grace slowly kill archangels too?) Michael protests that he can't do anything to stop Lucifer in his “banged up meatsuit.” He coughs pathetically. “This is the end of everything,” Michael says. And damn it all, if Dean doesn't get a really dumb idea lodged in his head.

“What if you had your sword?” Dean asks.

DAMN IT, DEAN

How did we not see Lucifer stealing Jack’s grace? Extracting Jack’s grace to depower him was a plot point last year, and Lucifer using other angels’ grace to power up was used all this season. I think (like always) maybe the pacing could have been better to make it more weighty at the end? Had Lucifer met Jack sooner, and felt betrayed by Jack, and stole his grace sooner so we could feel that power, maybe that would make Dean’s decision more necessary? We know where Dean was coming from with his absolute need to protect his family --at the cost of his own life. They were in a bad spot, but I’m not sure the show made the stakes feel as high as they really were.

Meanwhile Lucifer is playing with his food (aka Sam) when Jack demands that he leave Sam alone. Lucifer's unimpressed and switches his attention to nougat. He punches Jack repeatedly. Father of the year award, here. :(

Lucifer tells Sam that family sucks and Jack being “family” is meaningless. To prove his point, he tells Jack to kill Sam. Lucifer drops his archangel blade at their feet and settles back to wait for the show.

Dean continues breaking our hearts at the bunker. While Cas asks Dean to back down, Dean sells himself as Michael's “sword.” UGH. Michael tells Dean that, were Dean possessed by him they MIGHT have a chance to defeat Lucifer. (Holy shades of Lucifer-possessing-Cas, Batman!) That's all Dean needs to hear. “Lucifer has Sam. He has Jack. Cas, I don't have a choice!” Dean brokers a deal with Michael: Michael can possess him, but he's in charge. Michael looks...very pleased.

Sam and Jack face each other down while Lucifer natters at them. Sam bends down and picks up the blade. Jack looks hurt. Confused. And then Sam tries to hand him the blade so Jack can kill him instead. NOOOOOOO! (Please imagine this in Luke Skywalker’s voice.) Sam’s willingness to sacrifice himself for his adopted son inspires Jack to...sacrifice himself. Jack knows how to end Lucifer’s game. He’ll kill himself! Jack starts driving the blade into his skin when light streams from behind him. It's Dean! Er, Michael! Er, Michael!Dean! 

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean’s familiar greeting is assurance that he’s still behind the wheel. He looks to Lucifer. It's time to rumble. Lucifer and Michael!Dean start to fight. Um...in the air? (This is no Crouching Tiger.) Supernatural could have at least given them both swirling capes.

Lucifer begins to get the upper hand and it’s looking bad for our team. Sam runs forward and picks up the forgotten archangel blade from the floor, tossing it up into Dean’s hand. Dean stabs Lucifer with it and Lucifer glows with red fire (still floating) before he finally poofs out. DING DONG THE WITCH IS DEAD!

Lucifer lies dead on the floor, the embers from his burned wings glowing like stars around his head. (Kudos vfx department)

(Boris: I was really shocked about Lucifer’s death at first (I’ve also held that Lucifer would be the ultimate Big Bad in the end), but they’ve been reversing The End this season and that’s exactly how they ended it.)

Sam experiences intense relief. Lucifer, his torturer, is dead! They're happy...they're celebrating… This is Return of the Jedi and they’re all about to eat a little storm trooper with some fuzzy Ewoks when--

Dean buckles over, gasping. Oh no, we know the signs of an angel/human internal battle. “We had a deal!” Dean shouts and when he lifts his head, Michael's behind the wheel. He looks around casually and then flaps out, leaving Sam and Jack in shock behind him.

Back at the bunker, Mary and Bobby rush back into the library only to find Cas sitting alone on the step. He says nothing. Just shakes his head...

On a quiet street, Michael goes for a stroll. He's purloined some classy new duds so he can walk the world. His eyes glow…

Stay tuned, kids.

You Can Quote, You Can Quote, You Can QUOTE!!!

You shot me.

Wanna lightsaber?

Ginger trouble!

You, me, Cas. Toes in the sand. Couple of little umbrella drinks. Matching Hawaiian shirts, obviously. Some hula girls.

It's not about being strong. … Even when we're strong. Man, things are gonna happen. We're gonna make mistakes. Nobody's perfect. But we can get better. Every day, we can better.

I think he thought I'd be trapped over there in “giant litter box world” forever.

Before you died, do you remember anything about the person who killed you?

Daddy Sammy coming to the rescue.

Thanks for the suit.

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[cheolbooluvr]

okay shut the fuck up i'm supposed to be mad at this mans (s/o @/vernon_98), but then you write this request first and then make me FEEL THINGS??? HORRIBLE.

anyways, i read this a few days ago, but i hadn't been on my computer to properly give my feedback. also, thanks for writing this request for me gyu, ily<3

He’s soft spoken, and when he turns to gaze into the sunset earlier in those days, you’re left pondering if you would ever be that person that he opens his mind to.

please, vernon, plz give me the time of day. also why did this hurt me???

you’re greeted to a face with sharp features that only looks more gorgeous with the yellows and oranges hues of the sunset shining on him.

this image will be seared into my brain forever. thx, gyu.

Booty calls are… honestly very close to what this was.

For one, he’d always try getting you to come out during the wee hours of the night. No one else comes, and it’s just the two of you. You never say ‘hi’ in public, or… for anything in that manner, and he doesn’t even stop to acknowledge your presence.

man i will do whatever for this mans, like booty call? sure, you got it. but also, ffs, would you plz just say hi!! we're besties, aren't we T^T

It becomes a routine, until the weather gets too cold and outside doesn’t seem like a realistic option anymore. But you’re adamant on keeping this thing going on with him—this fake version of a booty call (refer to it as a bookie call, why don’t you), so you offer different locations.

HAHAHAHA BOOKIE CALL THAT MADE ME SNORT

You tell him that you’ve made plans for the night—spend weekends out partying at frat parties, in hopes you can meet someone that can flood your thoughts with anything that doesn’t involve Vernon Chwe.

yeah, tbh, i'd do whatever it takes to get this mans out of my mind, too. like what's he doing there? rent-free??? in this economy??????? hell nah

Vernon with a book, underneath the pretty moonlight—it feels like high school again.

god why are you so intent on hurting me wtf

You reek of alcohol, but he smells like chamomile tea, and you’re starting to get inebriated off his aroma instead of those shots of vodka earlier in the night.

fuck this made me sad!!! big :(((

“You called,” he retorts, standing up from his crouching position. “Said something about how I was being stupid for never talking to you, and how you felt like you were some booty call.”

okay, this made me fkn snort too hahahaha oc, you're so silly LMFAO but also so right. c'mon vern, get it together >:[

“But then I met you, found you cute, but I still wanted to focus on school. So I asked you to read with me instead, and talked less so I’d never… developed anything more than just a small crush.”

FUCK. tbh, the way this hit close to home was so <//3 gah. cries. i can't be here rn.

“I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you. But I did anyway.”

YO WHAT THE FUCK WHY AM I SCREAMING AHHH I CHOSE THIS FUCKIN LINE BUT IT STILL GOT ME SCREAMING WHAT THE FUCK!!!

thanks again for writing this for me, gyu :] i thot i was over the vernrot and then i read this, and then i re-read it, and now i'm back to square one FML HAHAHA okay bye

okay and if you get bored and want another: vernon + college au + “I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.”

for the write it & weep event ! :) thanks for requesting heh

title: every summertime pairing: vernon x reader genre: angst, fluff, summertime romance, college au word count: 1.9k prompt: college au & “I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.” warnings: none, pg-13 baby a/n: i am very so much sorry if this didn't come out the way you wanted HAHFDALFKDJ

He’s hard to read, despite the fact that you’ve known him since high school. From the days you were both eighteen, staying up late at night to read beneath the moonlight, sitting on the porch of his childhood home, all while taking turns waving at the motion sensored light by the front door when you both remained frozen too long, too immersed in your books.

He’s soft spoken, and when he turns to gaze into the sunset earlier in those days, you’re left pondering if you would ever be that person that he opens his mind to.

It all started just one summertime.

The early hours were dreadful; the stickiness of the humidity created a sheen layer of sweat on your skin, the rays of the sun always managing to burn you despite the ridiculous amounts of sunscreen you’d apply, and how people preferred going to the beach with sand managing to fall into every nook and cranny of your body, you’d never understand, but the heat had become an enemy of yours that you would never find revenge on.

You’ll eventually find a part-time job in the mornings. But when the sun begins to set, you’re rushing home on your hand-me-down bike that used to be your brother’s, with the leather of the seats torn and the cushions barely intact, you still give your mom the thumbs up because the brakes work.

You stand when you’re riding home, mostly because there’s practically nothing to sit on, but also because it’s the fastest to get back. To shower, change into comfortable clothes before the night falls, and you’re outside on Vernon’s front steps, a book tucked underneath your arm, knuckles tapping politely against the wooden door before you’re greeted to a face with sharp features that only looks more gorgeous with the yellows and oranges hues of the sunset shining on him.

Vernon was a neighbor, and a friend. Nothing more, nothing less. If anything, he was just a buddy you met up with on a daily basis just to read books with.

And when college comes around, a part of you fears that you’d lose a routine you’ve grown to love.

Vernon coincidentally chooses the same University as you, dorm being a couple floors below, and after the first day of classes, he stopped you in the midst of your tracks, on route to your room, and brought up the question you were afraid he’d never ask.

“Would you like to read tonight?”

It’s not like his concrete steps, with his mom peeking in from the windows, or his little sister at least once if she could join, but the bench in the quad with the sidewalk lights in the silence will do for now.

You truthfully want to query about how he’s been. Possibly converse about the difficulties of transitioning from highschool to college. Or maybe it’s easy for him. All you knew was that it hadn’t been easy for you, and Vernon wasn’t open about anything in his life. You wondered how you’d classify him as a friend in the first place.

Booty calls are… honestly very close to what this was.

For one, he’d always try getting you to come out during the wee hours of the night. No one else comes, and it’s just the two of you. You never say ‘hi’ in public, or… for anything in that manner, and he doesn’t even stop to acknowledge your presence.

But in the late hours, he’s with you.

His invitations, along with his physical presence, begins to dissipate with the hot weather. Autumn hits, actually hits, with a smack of the cold breeze and fallen leaves. It’s too cool to sit outside at night anymore, so you don’t see Vernon.

For a while, it’s easy to forget. You’re so busy with your packed school schedule and assignments, you barely have enough time to get lost in the pages of a book again. But when the semester ends, and the holidays get closer, you visit home and spot that porch again. The one you used to read with Vernon on.

As expected, you see him in passing. He stops by his parents house as you predict, but he doesn’t greet you or pay you any mind. Maybe he doesn’t want to read with you anymore, and you have to respect his wishes.

But when Summer rolls around once more, and Vernon is back at home, he’s knocking on your front door.

In ripped light blue jeans and a grey t-shirt, he holds a book up. Narnia, it reads, and you wonder why out of all the books in the world, he chooses that one. “Wanna have a session?”

“Sure,” you respond without hesitation. “Let me go grab my book.”

As days go on, Vernon changes. Physically, you note, because his arms aren’t like toothpicks and his body strangely makes him more… masculine than it had before. He’s got a bigger build, one with biceps that fill in the sleeves of his t-shirt snugly and chest protruding through the thin material. As much as you want to make a smart comment about how he needs a new wardrobe—you guys aren’t close enough for banter.

Picnics slowly began to become another choice; the days were longer, and you wanted to bask in the sun’s rays a little longer, especially with the cool breeze at night. Vernon now has a checkered red blanket packed in the trunk of his car, and you bring snacks that your mom and his mom prepares.

He’s not your friend, he’s not your boyfriend, and you don’t know enough about him to be crushing. And yet, you spend more time with him than any of your so-called friends, but you know less information about him than them.

When the sun begins to set, the sky glows. It burns the colors of autumn, but the warmth in the air is clarification that it’s still summer. But the cold air that blows briskly is the fall creeping up on you, a reminder that school is coming up soon, and this fleeting dream of a sweet summer will dissipate.

Back at school, it feels disparate once more. That anxiety comes rushing through your veins again, slightly worrying that Vernon wouldn’t ask you to hang anymore.

Albeit, you’re wrong. Insecurity always seems to take over, but the moment you spot Vernon standing outside in the hallway of your dorm floor, a new book in hand, and waves it innocently, your heart swells.

It becomes a routine, until the weather gets too cold and outside doesn’t seem like a realistic option anymore. But you’re adamant on keeping this thing going on with him—this fake version of a booty call (refer to it as a bookie call, why don’t you), so you offer different locations.

Vernon agrees to the library option, on the armrest chairs that face out the windows. It’s great for people watching, but you’re more intrigued by the person beside you.

Maybe you’ve developed some feelings for him. Maybe. But part of you feels like this is wrong, because if Vernon was interested, he would’ve said something long before. You’ve spent hours together on a daily basis, and if he truly thought he liked you, he would’ve made it more apparent.

And, well, he doesn’t.

So, you do the opposite of what you wished to be doing. You tell him that you’ve made plans for the night—spend weekends out partying at frat parties, in hopes you can meet someone that can flood your thoughts with anything that doesn’t involve Vernon Chwe.

But when you’re stumbling out of a frat house, slipping out of your uncomfortable heels that causes the redness on the soles of your feet, a scowl smears across your face until it drops at the sight of Vernon standing at the end of the driveway. Bomber jacket, hair slicked back, and that trademark book under his arm, you freeze.

“You’re drunk,” he says, stating the obvious. Furrowing your brows, you inhale sharply to take in this scene. Vernon with a book, underneath the pretty moonlight—it feels like high school again.

“Okay,” you puff your cheeks in response. “We’re in college, I can’t have fun?”

“Were you with someone?”

Scratching your nose, you shake your head ‘no.’

His face releases tension, like he’s been harboring some anger the entire time, but he’s relieved now. Holding the novel out, you only stare at him in confusion. “Grab this. Gimme your shoes. Then hop on my back. We’ll go to the corner store and get you water.”

It’s the most you’ve heard him speak, and your heart races because how does he sound so… melodic. His voice soothes your nerves, and the gentleness of it brings comfort.

Cooperating, when Vernon turns around and bends down, you hop on with ease. Maybe if you weren’t intoxicated, you would’ve been flushed with embarrassment, scared of what he’ll think of you for complying so quickly, or if you weren’t this drunk, maybe you would’ve been more insecure about your weight.

With your arms hung over his shoulders, doing your best to grasp onto his favorite book in between your fingers, Vernon had his hands gripping on your legs with your heels hanging on his pinky. You reek of alcohol, but he smells like chamomile tea, and you’re starting to get inebriated off his aroma instead of those shots of vodka earlier in the night.

You’ve dozed off on his back; it’s so comfortable, despite it being as hard as a textbook, but his jacket acts as a cushion. Before you know it, you’re awakened by him sitting you down on that bench the two of you oftentimes met at.

When did he get that bag of snacks and water? Did you sleep through the entire convenience store trip?

“Here,” he pops open the bottle, and brings it to your lips. “Drink it. You won’t feel as bad in the morning.”

The cool water slides down your throat, and you’re suddenly slapped open awake from the drink and the wind.

“Feel better?”

“Yeah,” you reply, softly and shyly. There’s never been much exchange between you both, and with him this close, he makes it hard to breathe. He doesn’t like you in the way, and he’s made it very clear. “How’d you know I was there?”

“You called,” he retorts, standing up from his crouching position. “Said something about how I was being stupid for never talking to you, and how you felt like you were some booty call.”

Your chest caves in. You what?

“I… No I didn’t,” in denial, you’re ready to get up from the wooden seat but Vernon slips off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. “I—”

He chuckles; it’s deep and hearty, and truth be told, you don’t think you’ve ever heard it before. “Don’t… don’t worry so much about it.”

You blink blankly.

With that, he pushes a couple of your stray hairs behind your ear. “Can I be honest?”

Rolling your lips briefly, you want to ask him when have you ever judged him for anything, but you hold yourself back and nod your head instead.

“I usually don’t get involved with girls,” he admits, fiddling with the collar of his jacket, “But then I met you, found you cute, but I still wanted to focus on school. So I asked you to read with me instead, and talked less so I’d never… developed anything more than just a small crush.” Vernon clears his throat, lifting his gaze to stare away from you because his cheeks were flushing into a faint pink.

“I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you. But I did anyway.”

[eirvesce-excerpts]

SKY//FLOOD - The Huntress - Blooming Rose (wip)

Bancroft. The place Veca first appeared, and Calee's once-home. A big town, now ruins, on the southern edge of Myera Rainforest. As her story went, Veca was attacked here by Sicara and rescued by Calee, and went on to search for Jade. It's as good a place as anywhere else to look for her...

Calee and Taylor search in and around Monsa and Deilos. Miko, Aubrey, Leo, and Staxia search Seipora. Jade and Corvin search Mt. Balos, Bancroft, and anywhere inbetween. They each team up specifically to stay safer - obviously, they aren't the only ones looking for Veca.

Oh. Oh, faaar from it. In the town square of Bancroft, where the mossy, broken, dried fountain and rusted metal fence sit on cracked cobble, Pierce Arturo and his Reapers sit in conversation. Jade and Corvin sneak up closer, hidden within a nearby red-brick ruin and cautious of any would-be sentries.

Pierce: That's what I'm tellin’ you! She ain't fuckin' hea'!

He seems to be talking to someone with that thick accent of his... but none of his subordinates are responding. A quiet squabbling in a deep tone calls back to him; Pierce huffs angrily.

Pierce: Th'fuck?! List'n, jackass, I'm tellin' ya: The zappy bitch ain't fuckin' in this shithole! Shutcha yap, cripplin' bischap.

Corvin narrows his eyes. He's obviously talking to someone.

Piece suddenly grows even more agitated, shoving off the fountain's edge, holding his palm against his right ear, and shouting.

Pierce: No! No, you listen to me, bitch! I am sick and tired 'a yer shit! Ya don't get'ta waltz ya shady Hunter ass up in my face and order me around like this! We had a fuckin' deal, and you are not calling it off!

Jade leans forward a slight bit over the edge of the rubble to get a better shot of the conversation, accidentally knocking a few bits loose. Immediately, Pierce and several men snap to Jade's direction. Pierce himself finds himself smiling sadistically as he marches closer, dropping his arm down to his side. The shape of a slim, silver headpiece on his right side shimmers in the hazy afternoon light.

Pierce: Well. Hah. We ain't found that Vermin, but we sure as hell found sumthin' else. ???: What? What is it?

The woman's voice becomes ever so faintly clear through the quiet. Jade and Corvin begin to back up; the sound of rubble being crushed underfoot signals their being cornered in.

Pierce: You know Vermin's little girlfriend and the bastard who helped broke us up? Hehahah... ???: Wh- Jade?! No- No! Pierce, stand the fuck down! You are not to har--

Pierce rips out the device and crushes it in his hand as his Sigil glows across his lower left ribs. His smiles nice and wide with eyes gleaming with sadistic excitement. Corvin quickly grabs Jade's arm and makes a break for it, coating his opposite shoulder in deep violet electricity and shoving the man behind them aside. Pierce calls after them with a hint of joy in his voice.

Pierce: Where ya goin', ya lil' shit?! Come back he' an' getcher just-fuckin-reward for stabbin' us in the back like you did!!

---

Pierce: You're goin' back in pieces to that Hunter, like it or not, Vin!

Corvin growls low at Pierce, his broken arm slowly draining away at what's left of his energy. Jade's bruised cheek and bleeding belly stain her flame-coated silhouette. The two steadily back up, arm-in-arm, away from the juggernaut before them. Cut, burnt, and shocked, nothing seems to phase him. Did he get stronger? He must have. Corvin managed to take him down before, but now...

Corvin: Back down, Pierce. You know Quartz will come for your ass if you do anything to us.

Pierce scoffs snidely, cocking his head with an unimpressed sneer.

Pierce: Yea? You think I care, Vin? You killed so many of my boys, you two... it's only fair I knock off a few 'a hers, too.

A loud gunshot-like sound startles him. It's so familiar, too... Is Calee nearby? No, she can't be. She should be in Deilos... Pierce sighs, flexing his hands as he closes the distance quicker.

Jade: Back the hell off! Pierce: Shutcher yap, bitch!

Pierce skips forward, throwing a punch directly at Jade. She rolls forward, scatching the back of Pierce's right leg as she passes him. He throws down his hand, catching Jade by the middle of her shirt, and hoisting her upward. Corvin throws his open palm against Pierce's chest unhindered, surging the brute of a man with his volts. Pierce laughs and slams Corvin backward into a wall with his free hand, then throws Jade away and down into the broken pavement. She shouts as a loud crack rings out; she bounces back and finds debilitating amounts of pain invading her chest.

Pierce laughs as he takes up Corvin with both hands, repeatedly slamming him into the wall over and over, as blood begins to splatter against the wall. A distant look takes to his eyes. Pierce whips Corvin back at Jade, throwing his ragdolled body against hers. His back is bloody and smashed, Jade is stamped with his blood as he hits her. Pierce grins wide as he slowly stomps toward them.

Pierce: This feels right. This feels great, beatin' a lil' traitor like you, Vin. I should do it more often.

With no regard to Jade at all, Pierce stomps on her left leg as he passes over, making her scream in pain as the bone snaps instantly. She writhes in pain, seething with sharp breaths. He stops just in front of Corvin, crouching down and shoving him over onto his back to glare him down in the eyes.

Pierce: I'm gonna drag your lil' pompous ass back to the Gash, and we're gonna have a hell of a time, Vin. Just you and me. No need for the trash, you know... Now geddup.

Corvin strains to breathe, weakly gazing up at Pierce. Grown impatient, Pierce picks him up by a tuft of his shirt like a sack and stands tall, dragging his along as he leaves Jade broken.

???: Arturo, I told you to stand the fuck down.

Pierce freezes as the woman's voice rings out. Jade sees the silhouette of a woman step toward her... digging her hands under Jade's back and knees and picking her up. Jade winces as her left leg jostles, making the woman sigh.

???: God damn it, Pierce. Why the fuck would you do this? Corvin, I can understand, but Jade... You've never even met her. She didn't deserve this, she is innocent.

Pierce huffs, whipping around and glaring at the woman. Jade can't quite get a good look at her quite yet... the sun's bright light make her out like a shadow.

Pierce: She got in the way, Rose, and she's with that Vermin bitch. Had it comin' to her, 'specially with this prick at'er side.

Rose holds Jade tight, her expression unclear... but her voice makes her sound as if she's holding back a furious rage.

Rose: Just- Drop the kid and I'll forget this little contrivance ever happened. You and your croneys get the fuck out of Bancroft. You go off where I never have to see you again... I don't need someone who can't follow simple orders, and I'll blow a hole in you if you refuse.

Pierce clicks his tongue and drops Corvin. He falls limply, like a corpse... but after several seconds on the ground, continues breathing as before, though even more strained. He seems to be on the edge of death itself...

Pierce: Gah, fine. But next time I see this bastard, though, he is dead, got it? Rose: Please, just get fucking lost, already. Pierce: Feh. Hunter bitch...

Pierce marches off with an air of dissatisfaction. Left alone, Rose sets down Jade, ever so carefully, and steps over her to Corvin. Jade hears the nasty sound of flesh peeling from stone as Rose turns him over.

Rose: Jesus fucking christ... What a fucking monster. You're still alive, right? Corvin?

Corvin struggles to turn his gaze to Rose, but makes enough of an effort to tell her "yes." She breathes with a heavy air.

Rose: Good. This might sting a bit, but it'll keep you alive. Bear with it.

Rose places her hands just over Corvin's back and steadies her breathing. A gradual warmth, like warm water, gently fills his body... a familiar sensation, at that. His back stings horribly as something changes... Jade watches as Rose treats Corvin, an almost non-existent bluish glow radiating from the upper-left and lower right of her back.

Rose huffs as she pulls back, panting as if a great deal of strength was taken from her. She wipes her head with her right forearm and stands up.

Rose: That should be enough for you to breathe. Can you get up?

Corvin finds the pain from his entire back significantly lessened, but still horrible. He groans, fruitlessly trying to push himself up. Rose sighs, bending down to help him up.

Rose: Go on, grab my shoulder. I'll help you up.

Doing as he is told, Corvin places a hand on Rose's lowered shoulder. She takes hold of his hand with her own, slowly standing up and taking Corvin's other hand with her free one. He groans in pain as he rises to his feet, wobbling as Rose cautiously lets go, holding her hands out ready to catch him.

Rose: Hey, hey- Take a breath. You'll be fine. He ain't gonna hurt you again, not today.

Corvin's breathing is heavy and labored. He nods, straining to stay standing. Rose cautiously takes a step back toward Jade, glancing down to be careful not to step on her.

Rose: Easy. I'll pick up the girl and see you somewhere safe, aight?

Corvin still can't respond outside of a nod. He watches Rose from the corner of his eye, watching as she once again picks Jade up from her back and knees like before.

The two finally get good looks of Rose as she steps up beside Corvin. She's a little tan, with icy blue eyes and hair flipped over her left side and the left shaved short and messy. A reddish scar marks beneath her right eye, and she holds a large gunblade sheathed to her back. A faded red shirt underlies an open black combat jacket, with black jeans and black and silver boots. Her eyes have a worn look to them, as if she's been through a lot, but...

*She's pretty.* It's the first thought through Jade's shadowed mind, and briefly startles her.

[megabadbunny]

Star Wars ramble

I have thoughts about the new Star Wars, and this is where I shall barf them out. Spoilers ahead!

Holy hell this movie is a mixed bag. There were things I utterly adored, and things I absofuckinglutely hated. I saw the movie at a preview screening Thursday night and it has seriously taken me the last four days to really parse through stuff in my head, because this bag is so mixed, it’s like the overturned candy bucket of an overenthusiastic trick-or-treater whose neighborhood contains the best of the best and the bottom-of-the-barrel-est of the worst. In short, as far as I’m concerned, The Last Jedi is brimming with full-size Snickers bars and stale candy corn alike.

First, I wanna start out with some pros (gimme those sweet sweet Reese cups and boxes o’ Nerds, pleez!):

- ALL THE LEIA. Every single bit of Leia. 

- And no, it’s not just nostalgia/grief/rose-tinted glasses coloring my view here. Her character is just so excellent. Was her floating-through-space thing super cheesy? It sure fucking was, and I fucking loved every cheesy-ass second of it, because how fucking awesome is that??? Getting to see Leia use the Force in the weirdest, magical-est of ways?? Especially because, given Carrie Fisher’s passing, I was afraid they might have to cut Leia’s part short in the movie, so for a few minutes, I genuinely thought she might have been dead during the space battle. So seeing her come back just flooded me with happiness--and seeing her come back using the Force, surviving the motherfucking vacuum of space using the Force, was just one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen onscreen.

- Also, goddamn, Carrie Fisher’s acting is underrated. The moments where she could sense her son’s presence, the exchange with Luke, just, gah. All so beautifully done. And watching her butt heads with Poe was so satisfying. AND SEEING HER WITH A BLASTER AGAIN??? BE STILL MY FRANTICALLY HAMMERING NERDY HEART.

- Luke’s character arc in this was brilliant. Depressing? Yep. Heartbreaking? You betcha. But brilliant. I can definitely see why Mark Hamill took issue with it. All of our previous exposure to Luke (in the films, anyway) has shown us someone full of optimism, positive to the point of recklessness, brash and impulsive but caring and dedicated and overall committed to making the galaxy a better place. So to see him so bitter and closed-off--it hurt. But it also made sense. A person can only take so much heartbreak and pain and failure before they seal themselves off. And his return to form at the end of the movie was so much sweeter. I won’t lie, in many ways, I would have preferred things to have gone differently for the Skywalker family--not that everything has to be peaches and roses and sunshine all the time, but it feels like JJ Abrams and Rian Johnson might have shat on the Skywalkers a bit more than necessary for the sake of making things *~*dark*~* or *~*edgy*~* or *~*gritty*~*, a la Rowling in the seventh Harry Potter. But more on that later...and in the meantime, given the circumstances, I very much appreciated Luke’s portrayal.

- The Luke and Yoda parallels, I love them. 

- I appreciated seeing repercussions for the brash actions of certain characters, particularly Poe. I really liked Poe in this movie, and I really enjoyed seeing him be both right and horribly horribly wrong, since so many movies tend to idolize that type of character. It was refreshing for the movie to acknowledge the death toll involved in harebrained schemes gone wrong. It’s really easy to overlook the casualties of unnamed background characters in any war movie, but especially fantasy war movies; this movie didn’t shy away from letting us know that war is not glamorous, people do die, and it all takes a toll. I was deeply appreciative that Poe really took some of Holdo’s stuff to heart near the end of the movie.

And now, some cons, i.e., root beer barrels and Hubba Bubba gum:

- Gonna get the biggest one out of the way right upfront: The fuck is up with Rey’s parentage reveal. The actual fuck. Don’t get me wrong: I appreciate, in many ways, that this is a broadening of the Star Wars universe, and that the entire Star Wars universe does not revolve around the Skywalkers. I don’t have a problem with that. I have a problem with what feels like a bait-and-switch pulled by Rian Johnson. It really feels like TFA set things up to reveal that Rey was Luke’s kid--see this post for more on that, if you wanna go full nerd (and I doooooo), but long story short, why bother with Maz’s line about how the lightsaber was Luke’s, and his father’s before him, and “now it calls to you,” why when Rey touched the lightsaber would she have visions about events for which this particular lightsaber was not present, why have the TFA trailer voiceover with Luke saying “The Force runs strong in my family, my father has it, I have it, my sister has it, you have that power too,” why all the parallels between Anakin and Luke and Rey, why why why? Why show Rey’s memories of her family leaving interspersed with visions of Luke’s personal trauma? Why show her family leaving the planet only to reveal that they apparently drank themselves to death right on Jakku?

Rian Johnson claims he wants to subvert tropes and expectations, and while I can respect that, there’s a huge difference between subverting audience expectations and flat-out lying to your audience. At worst, he’s guilty of the latter; at best, he’s guilty of some very poorly-planned and lazy writing.

I know I have read before that originally, JJ Abrams was going to reveal Rey’s parentage in TFA but Rian Johnson asked him not to, and between that and bits of the TFA screenplay (”He looks at Rey. A kindness in his eyes, but there's something tortured, too. He doesn't need to ask her who she is, or what she is doing here. His look says it all”) and the fact that Daisy Ridley thought “it was obvious” and “the question was already answered” in TFA, not to mention that Rian Johnson talks about “making a choice” re: Rey’s parents--long story short, I would not be surprised to find out that JJ Abrams had originally planned to reveal that Rey was Luke’s daughter, but Rian asked him not to so he could pursue his own agenda. It just feels like a move worthy of Moffat-- “Ha ha, you thought this one thing because I all-but-explicitly said it was so, but actually, nope! Here’s something else! Ha ha!”

Like, Luke’s projection at the end of the film? That’s actually a great example of the subversion of audience expectations. We assume that Luke is actually there in-person, because why wouldn’t we? But hindsight shows viewers that the film actually contains a fair bit of precedent, hints, and setup for Luke to project his presence rather than show up in-person; for one thing, this isn’t the first time we’ve seen Force-projection in the film. For another thing, Luke says in the film, repeatedly, that nothing Rey can say or do will get him to leave his island, and it ends up being technically true (whoo foreshadowing). Then there’s the matter of how he looks different than he has for the majority of the film, and how his boots don’t leave imprints on the planet surface like everyone else’s.

Does the film want us to assume that Luke is there in-person? Yep! Is the film playing on our own presumptions and expectations and letting our brains fill in the blanks, even if they do it incorrectly? Sure is! But does the film lie to us? No. The clues are there, even if you don’t know to look for them on first watch. This subversion is earned. But this same well-crafted storytelling is simply nowhere to be seen as far as the reveal of Rey’s parentage is concerned. 

I’m sure some will argue that stuff like Rey’s weird endless-mirror-thing on the island offers enough hints that her parents are nobodies (showing her only herself when she asks about her family), that the film isn’t lying or retconning stuff from TFA. But for a film that relies so heavily on its predecessor in some ways, picking up literal moments, it seems, after the end of TFA, The Last Jedi just doesn’t seem all that interested in furthering a lot of TFA’s plot points. Who’s Snoke? Who cares! Finn and Rey have an intriguing and compelling relationship? Let’s put that on the backburner and introduce an entirely new person instead. Remember all the things in TFA that suggest a connection between Luke and Rey, whether familial or not? How’s about we give literally zero shits about that personal connection, at all, and pursue one between Rey and Kylo Ren instead? Let’s just drop a whole bunch of shit from the first movie, then come in with a battering-ram and say, “Oh, by the way, this thing isn’t what you thought it was. Psych!” 

Long story short, it would have been different if the deep Force connection between Luke and Rey had been explored in TLJ, to the point where you could tell that Rey is genuinely starting to wonder if Luke could actually be her father. It wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for her to wonder that, given the circumstances! But if you had tiny hints and foreshadowings sprinkled throughout, suggesting that maybe, possibly, she’s not from this famous, important family after all, no matter how desperately she wishes it--imagine, growing up thinking you’re nobody, and then realizing you could be the ultimate somebody!--then the final revelation that her parents aren’t just no-names, they’re despicable shitheads who sold their daughter for drinking-money--that would be absolutely crushing. As it is, it’s just sort of frustrating. The movie had ample opportunity to tie in her attachment to Luke with her familial issues; finding out that Luke isn’t her father, that they’re not family, would be a powerful potential breaking point for her. Especially if, at some point near the end of the film, Rey realizes that her garbage biological family doesn’t matter--it’s the family she has chosen for herself, Luke and Leia and particularly Finn, that’s important.

I’m not saying Rey has to be a Skywalker--I’m saying that the movie did a very bad job revealing the fact that she isn’t. The setup makes for a very unsatisfying payoff, not to mention it kind of feels like the audience was lied to. It feels like Rian Johnson sacrificed storytelling for the sake of putting his own *~*dark*~*~ and *~*~gritty*~*~* and *~*~*realistic*~*~* spin on the Star Wars story. To me (and I’m sure to many others), this revelation did not feel earned, but rather slapped on.

- Not a huuuge fan of the gritty grimdark trend, especially not a huge fan of it in Star Wars. Does the Star Wars saga as a whole have its dark moments? Certainly, and most of them are well-earned. But the whole “Look, another Vader” + Luke’s self-imposed exile + Han and Leia’s separation + Han’s death + the dissolution of the Rebellion/Resistance + being sent right back to square one with the Empire, mark II + Rey’s even-more-tragic-than-we-initially-believed backstory all starts to feel like a bit much after a while. Like “Look how dark and depressing we are, look how edgy, look how subversive.” In an age where the cinema seems obsessed with ultragrittygrimdark stuff and unfettered cynicism, this is not subversive or new; this is part of the new status quo.

- STOP SAYING THE WORD “HOPE” IT’S LOSING ALL MEANING DEAR SWEET BABY JEBUS

Mmmkay back to some Skittles-pros, because those cons were rough and now it’s good candy time again:

- Finn exists in this movie. And I luff him. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh <3 <3 <3

- LIGHTSABER FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHTS ermergerd the lightsaber fiiiiiiiiiiiights

- Super fun aerial battles, woot woot

- Kylo’s character development is sooo interesting. I enjoy how on one hand he’s a petty entitled manbaby, but on the other hand, that unbridled rage makes him super unstable and kind of terrifying??? Like even to the point of just slaughtering the fuck out of his Master? Like holy shit dude, you need some therapy like nobody’s business. I waffled on whether I trusted Kylo--which makes sense, given that Kylo himself doesn’t seem entirely certain of his affiliations, except that he’s ultimately looking out for No. 1. The movie did a great job of making me very curious to see where they’ll take Kylo next!

- Rose is adorable and I really loved watching her geek out at the beginning of the movie. And her sister’s death, and her response to it, was just heartbreaking.

And now back to the cons, aka toothbrushes and pennies:

- The casino planet was kind of cool to look at, but ultimately a waste of time. Like a huge waste of time. Cut the casino and Del Toro’s character out of the movie and barely anything is affected. 

- The whole “It’s salt” bit. Why does it matter. Why did this need to be pointed out. Was Disney afraid people would think the red stuff was blood...? Also why did the guy feel compelled to put dirt/salt in his mouth. People’s shoes have been there. Dat’s nasty. 

- The movie did Phasma dirty. Both movies did. Again, you could have taken Phasma out of both films and it wouldn’t really have made much of a difference. Phasma is like the Boba Fett of this trilogy, except even less impactful, somehow??? Which is just a shame because she’s so fucking cool! Not to mention the only real female villain in the Star Wars filmverse! as;dlkfja;oseirja;weoraie;jr

Some more treats, perhaps?

- Yoda’s scene really got me. At first I was a little iffy, but as it went on, I liked it more and more. And his message about learning from failure was just particularly poignant. And I’m so glad they used puppet-Yoda. I don’t care if you can tell it’s a puppet. It still looks a hundred times better than full-CG-Yoda. :P

- As always, the music is wonderful--but I feel like that goes without saying! It’s John Williams, of course it’s wonderful!

- Also as always, the production design is just so frikkin’ good. The costumes, the sets, the ships, and a much better blend of animatronics/models + CG than we’ve seen just about anywhere else in recent years. Everyone on the creative team did a fabulous job of bringing new ideas to the table while also making it still feel like this is all set in the same galaxy that we first saw and fell in love with in the original trilogy. Also thank you to the costume designer for not giving Leia Dracula-butt-shaped hair in this movie. <3

Another stick or two:

- Why the hint of romance between Finn and Rose...? Why the kiss...? They’ve known each other for literally less than a day, why are they talking about love and kissing on the mouth????

- Is it just me or did Chewie kind of get sidelined...? Like completely...? And why is it necessary to suspend Leia in a coma for a goodly chunk of the movie? This movie suffers from multiple instances of “characters can’t or won’t reveal their plans or thoughts to others, mostly for highly contrived reasons if reasons are even given at all, so a bunch of dumbfuck misunderstandings ensue that could and should have easily been resolved, all because we took the easy/lazy way out,” and, bleh. Lazy writing.

- Too many new characters dividing our attention and investment. Del Toro’s character should have been removed and Rose should have been our code-breaker; Holdo’s character traits and actions should have been split up between Leia and Poe. (Not that I want to see Poe die, but in a film with such strong themes of failure, loss, and learning, it would have been more impactful and made more sense for Poe to learn from his earlier recklessness and sacrifice himself rather than endanger others, as opposed to a one-off character we didn’t have any time or inclination to emotionally invest in.) A movie is like a pie; the more characters who take a slice, the smaller each slice is, and characters like Leia, Finn, Rose, and Chewie all deserved bigger pieces than they got, dammit.

- Seriously why the fuck didn’t Holdo just tell Poe what she was planning???? The mutiny side plot was interesting, I guess, but mostly it just seemed like her character--for all that she was actually highly intelligent--was suddenly too stupid to realize that you can’t effectively execute a plan if your officers don’t know what that fucking plan is.

- Friend-spouse said this film gave very little payoff for anything set up in the first; work-spouse said this film’s dialogue was written like that of a comic book; spouse-spouse said this film reminded him of Return of the Jedi, in that it has some of his very favorite moments in the series, and some of his very least favorite. I am tempted to agree with all of the spouses.

- Overall this movie almost feels like a filler episode in a TV series. A few things happen to push the story forward--Luke, Kylo, and Poe’s character development, for example--but so much stuff just sort of seemed to happen for the sake of happening, and could have been trimmed, if not excised completely, to make for a stronger movie.

And to end the post on a positive note:

- Luke’s moments of punking his nephew/generally being a sassy bitch = amazeballs

-  DAT JUMP TO HYPERSPACE RIGHT THRU THE ENEMY SHIP THOUGH as;dlkfjasofijASLEIRJWOEIRJEORIlskdjfaoierjw;aeorijLASJIEFORIWEJ ER MER GERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRD

- Stupid cute adorable Porgs, arrrrrgh, we hates them, precious, yes we do

And that’s it! I definitely want to watch it again, will for sure own it, certainly enjoyed it more than Rogue One. But yeah, not gonna lie: I’m actually looking forward to JJ Abrams’ return for Ep IX.

[stripestheboar]

Day 4 - Papyrisk (Underswap)

Imma be honest, this was one of the hardest to do, mostly because I just spent so much time wondering what AU to do, and how I was going to make it work. And then… his beauty came to mind.

WARNING: Although this doesn’t contain any NSFW content, the relationship is very unhealthy and does have a very… rapey moment.

Pairing: Papyrus/Frisk

Word Count: 2,293

Step… step… step…

At first, Frisk never wanted to hurt anyone. You could call her a bit of a pacifist, and she was rather proud of that. The same could be said for Chara, the human that hosted her spirit. After all, these were her fellow monsters she was talking about. They had loved her and treated her as if she was one of their own, and she relished seeing her family once again. Chara seemed to understand these feelings, as she had made sure to painstakingly spare every monster they came across. Together they saved the Underground, and Frisk finally received the closure her restless spirit had been aching for ever since her death. But… then came the resets.

“Heya kid…”

Reset after reset, they saw the same things over and over again, with small bouncing skeletons and angry lizards meeting them with the same lines and shenanigans with each turn back. Chara seemed to be only interested in reliving one of the best days of her life, as well as experimenting with the different reactions and secrets of the people around them. However, the one that caught Frisk’s attention the most was that humorist. It was the comedian. The skeleton who smelled of an interesting mix of cigarettes and honey.  

“You’ve been busy, huh?”

It was just a harmless interest at first. The skeleton was obviously hiding a few secrets, secrets that they uncovered with each time they reset the world. Still, even after poking through each and every crevice of the Underground, it seemed that Chara’s curiosity was not yet sated.

“Really busy.”

Chara was the one who came up with the idea to start slaying a few monsters. Frisk was absolutely against it, though she had to admit her own curiosity was rather high.

“You just don’t know when to quit, do ya?”

When they had slain their first monster, they had both felt horrible. They had felt remorse and regret. By the fiftieth monster, Frisk couldn’t seem to muster up the emotion to even care.

“Alright then… tell me something, kid.

First it just a few monsters, and by the time a few resets had passed, Chara was already slaying Alphys. Frisk had always had a sort of loathing towards the lizard; she wasn’t going to be missed by her anytime soon. It wasn’t until she was killing her own mother and father in the next few runs that she realized she had stopped being able to feel the remorse she had once been proud to feel.  

“I want you to be completely honest with me…”

Once again, it was Chara who wanted to go all the way. She just wanted to know what it would feel like; to see what would happen and how her once friends would react. And so, that’s what she did. It wasn’t until nearly everyone within the ruins had been slain that Frisk was able to, for once in her life, gain control. It was startling at first, and Chara was completely taken aback when she moved through Sans’ puzzles without even realizing it. It had been scary for her, but Frisk only found it exhilarating. However, no amount of killing or resets could prepare her for the real deal; the object of her entire focus.

Papyrus.

“How many times have we done this?”

Frisk could only grin, the smile stretching across her face as her fingers mindlessly twirled the knife in her hand. Papyrus blinked at her with tired sockets, giving a small sigh as he knew she wasn’t going to answer him. It was all a part of her fun. “Alrighty then,” he muttered, phalanges coming up to his cigarette, quickly crushing it by both ends and flicking it away.  

“Let’s get this over with.”

Adrenaline kicked through her the instant she felt her soul turn blue and her body slam against the wall. She couldn’t keep that delirious grin off of her face as she nimbly dodged each bone that shot up from the ground. As expected, not a scratch was on her by the time the Blasters had disappeared. She grabbed hold of her knife as her body darted forward to give the first strike.

The first time they had battled, it was frustrating. It was infuriating. It made her angrier and angrier with each time she was forced to load her Save File once again. There was a conclusion, though. It took one hundred and sixty-seven times, but there was finally an ending. No dosage of heroine or cocaine in the world could give her the same high she felt when her knife hit bone, slicing straight through his neck and lobbing his skull clean off. She felt only glee once he dusted. However, that wasn’t the end of it. Even after, she found that her thoughts still lingered on that humorist. Of course, those thoughts had died down once Chara had reset again, but after gaining a few more levels from harming a group of monsters, her interest was sparked again. The two began to experiment, seeing what kills got him to react in certain ways. Frisk found a particular giddying feeling in just seeing what could make him express emotion. This usually meant slashing through his older brother, but he she didn’t care. Sans was forgettable anyways. Papyrus was much more intriguing.

Before long, they were on the route to genocide once again. Frisk wanted to feel that high again. She wanted to experience every grueling moment of that final fight. Sure enough, they were face to face once again, and Frisk was only a tad rusty with her moves this time. It only took a good twenty tries to kill him that time. But this wasn’t enough, and soon they reset and went back to experimenting. They hadn’t even erased the world, either. The expression on his face when he saw Chara again, it was… well, she wasn’t going to describe it in words. Papyrus had become her new obsession, and she was determined to know everything she could about her favorite humorist.

Now, here she was, on their fiftieth genocide run. She couldn’t be more ecstatic. Frisk considered this to be their anniversary, even if Papyrus himself didn’t know it. She would make this memorable, though, just for him. Only for him.  

Thoughts of their being together had clouded her mind, to the point where she was almost hit again. That was rather close. Still, she didn’t let it deter her, and went about slashing at him once again to see him take a short cut out of the way just in time. More bones shot from the ground, but they were avoided with ease. It was practically child’s play at this point. The more she dodged his attacks, the more she saw her love beginning to sweat, her prize soon to come. She had the entire sequence memorized at this point; bones, blast, jump, bones, jump, blast. He was at the point of where he was getting tired. It was coming.

Platforms appeared, but they barely deterred her as she moved past every blaster just as they went off. Here it comes.

“Whoa, you really like swinging that thing around, huh?”

There it is.

Frisk stopped, listening to his spiel that was mostly aimed at Chara, trying to plead with her to spare him. This was one of the only parts she really despised. He wasn’t supposed to be talking with Chara. This was their moment; he should be paying attention to her, not Chara.

As usual, she refused his offer and took another swipe at him, and despite knowing he was going to avoid it anyways, she still gave it her all, because he deserved nothing less. The rest of the fight went as it usually did, though this time she was determined to not get hit once throughout this attempt. It only felt right, and so far, she was succeeding.

Before long, they were at the finale. Frisk readied herself for the attack, and despite all of Papyrus’ warnings and threats, she went in with a smile on her face, her heavily lidded eyes still so concentrated on his figure. Thrown from wall to wall and shot through loops, she successfully avoided each and every bone, blast, and karmic retribution he tried to spear through her body. Sweat dripped down from her face, but she didn’t stop despite the aching of her body. Papyrus himself looked as if he had taken quite the beating, even if it was more of a mental one than the physical kind. With one last wave of his hand, he slammed her into the wall, ready to launch the special attack he’d been warning her about, despite knowing that she already knew what it was. However, he wasn’t prepared from the sudden break from the rhythm as Frisk failed to stop to listen to his usual chatter about his special attack. Instead, she continued to run straight at him, and before he could even get the chance to use a short cut, she hand him tackled to the ground, a knife at his cervical vertebrae. He grunted in surprise, immediately moving to grab her, but she quickly took hold of both hands, lined them up, and speared through them with her knife and pinned them to the ground. Red liquid poured from his shaking hands, leaking from his shaking metacarpals. He cried out in pain, struggling to buck her off, but with her straddling his pelvis, she wouldn’t let him. Not when they were so close.  

“Kid, what the fuck do you think you’r- gah!” Papyrus was cut off when he felt cold fingers duck under his hoodie skim around his lumbar vertebrae. Frisk smiled giddily down at her prize, watching him look up at her with a newfound terror in his sockets, something she had yet to see before. The tips of her fingers gently rubbed along the discs of his spine, making him twitch and squirm at having someone touch such a sensitive part of his frame. She wanted to know everything about him, and the more physical aspects certainly were no exception. Curious hands began to explore along his sternum and ribs, mapping out his entire frame as jagged and broken nails scraped along the bone, causing him to hiss at the sharp, prickling feeling. Her hands roughly felt every inch of his upper body, tugging at various bones to see what made him yelp and what made him grunt in pain. It seemed that the discs of his vertebrae were most sensitive, especially around his neck. Several times he tried to tell her off or intimidate her, but his methods fell apart when his speech became stuttered whenever she yanked at a rung of his spine. Her hands soon came to his skull, and his expression grew even more wary, but it wasn’t quite what she was looking for. She enjoyed listening to him groan in slight pain as her fingers hooked through his mandible and slid into his sockets to feel around his magic-filled cranium. As hard as he tried to force her off, he was just too weak. It wasn’t long before she was satisfied; she slumped against his ribcage, closing her eyes for a moment to just dream of another time where she would have this skeleton all to herself. Her hand grazed his neck as she did so, playing with the sensitive rungs as if she was a lover rather than the killer he knew her as.

However, all good things must come to an end. Frisk straightened up her posture, sitting up and taking hold of the knife handle and ripping it out. “You look just like Gaster now,” she laughed, referring to the new holes in his hand. He could only cry out in pain as he lay limp on the tile ground. Given up, has he? Cute. Without hesitation, she slashed the sharp blade across the humorist’s cervical vertebrae, slicing through bone with ease and disconnecting his skull from the rest of his body. Liquid determination spewed from the wound, splattering all over Frisk as she daintily picked up the severed head, looking him in the sockets. Papyrus’ sockets seemed to shrink in shock, mandible left hanging in silent horror, before he being cut off by a deranged giggle. That look was everything she’d ever wanted to see. It filled her with a high words could not describe. She closed her eyes, pressing her forehead against his frontal bone in silent euphoria at this moment. She let her breathing slow as she just wanted to stay like this forever. Just her and the skeleton, here together once again.

She soon pulled away, watching him with heavily lidded eyes that only portrayed a mad devotion. “Happy fiftieth!” Frisk grinned. “This was rather fun, humorist. Let’s play again!”  

Papyrus’ could find anything to say, his body already dusting below the human’s own smaller frame. Frisk stood up, taking the skull and planting a firm kiss atop his frontal bone. With little hesitation, she raised it above her head and smashed it into the ground, watching it turn to dust immediately. She watched the dust settle, wiping away some of the speckles of red that had been sprayed on her face and licking her stained knife clean.

She then loaded her save file.

…

Papyrus stood there, silent as Frisk approached him once again, unable to say anything for once as they faced each other. The human smiled madly at the monster, who remained without sound. He just stared, letting the cigarette drop from his mouth and onto the ground.

For once, he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do but just stare.