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big-dong-zhong · 4 years ago

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1 - Melt

Update: I see that this post still gets new notes, so allow me to redirect you to the updated version of this chapter, HERE!

Words: 1,873

Rated [T+] - Here is an explanation of my rating system.

Tartaglia/Lumine, fluff (i guess?), sorry I really don’t know what to say here.

Lumine is ill-prepared for Snezhnaya’s weather.

Notes: I read somewhere that Childe has two older siblings as well, but since I’ve written this I’m not 100% on that and I’m too scared to look it up. I also wrote this on impulse and never went back to it, only spiraled it into complete chaos.

Tartaglia lay in his childhood bed, staring up at the ceiling. It had been years since he had last slept there, and the scratching of the wool against his skin gave him a nostalgic sorrow, like he had left something behind. The other bed laid empty, another single wool blanket carefully draped over it. He put his arm over his eyes, wondering if it had been a good idea to return so soon.

The door opened quietly followed by light and hurried footsteps over the rug and to the other bed. The wood frame creaked under the weight of someone sitting upon it for the first time in years. A loud huff. Tartaglia could feel eyes on him. It was nearly impossible not to crack a smile, but he would pretend that he was asleep for now unless she addressed him.

"T-Tartaglia?"

"Lumine?" He grinned and quickly pulled his arm from his face and turned his head to look in her direction. Lumine was sitting upright on the bed, completely wrapped in the wool blanket with only her face visible, and she was pouting. Her cuteness caught him off guard and his heart may have skipped a beat or two, but he quickly regained his composure.

"It's cold," she grumbled, pulling the blanket even tighter around herself.

"Of course it's cold! We're in Snezhnaya. I really hope you didn't forget that somehow." He let out a laugh. "You could always come over here and I'll keep you warm." He turned to his side and lifted up his own blanket to invite her into his bed.

"No!" Lumine whispered harshly. "No way! I am not sharing a bed with you!" She shook her head as she declined.

"Well I guess you'll just freeze then," Tartaglia conceded and rolled back over. "A shame too. How will I ever be able to explain this to the Knights of Favonius? I guess I'll just have to run away and change my identity. They'll surely come after me if they think I let something happen to you out here." The sounds of the other bed creaking, and then footsteps toward him.

Got her.

"I didn't tell them," she mumbled. He turned to face her again, this time he was confused. It must have shown on his face because she continued. "I didn't tell anybody I was coming here. Not the Knights of Favonius or even the Adventurers’ Guild. It's not everyone's business what I'm doing every second of every day. I'm allowed to do things on my own, contrary to popular belief."

Tartaglia snorted, then laughed at the situation. Everyone really wanted a piece of her, didn't they? This girl who looked like a dumpling wrapped up in his brother's old wool blanket pouting at him was so important that several organizations felt the need to constantly keep tabs on her. It was only fair though, he figured. She was incredibly strong, not to mention nobody knew where she came from. She was very intriguing. He wanted to know more about her as well.

She sniffled. Tartaglia could see that her nose was getting red, and she kept scrunching her face like she felt a sneeze coming.

"Come on," he chuckled, "you can bring the blanket with you; just get in." Lumine glared down at him and very reluctantly sat on the edge of his bed, her back toward him. She scooted herself back on top of Tartaglia's blanket then lifted her legs into the bed and laid down, never once removing the blanket she already had around herself. He laughed. "Well this isn't exactly what I had in mind. It's not going to make a lot of difference if you're still under just one blanket."

"Then give me both of the blankets," she mumbled.

"Now that's cold, Lumine. You would let me freeze in the night? And after my family showed you so much hospitality. Imagine how upset my poor little siblings would be to find me frozen solid in the morning: a big brosicle!"

"Argh, fine!" Lumine had finally had enough of his antics. She jumped out of the bed and threw the second blanket she had wrapped herself with onto Tartaglia's face. "Make it up however you want, just do it fast okay!"

He laughed as he sat up, grabbing the blanket and unbundling it to toss over his own to make a double layer. Once he was satisfied that it was good enough he glanced toward Lumine and saw what she was wearing. A very short, white night dress with a frilled hem and collar, the latter of which rested halfway down her shoulders, exposing bare skin as well as her collarbones. He could see how delicate her legs were beneath the hem, which only barely covered the tops of her thighs. The fabric also seemed to be quite thin; silk from Liyue perhaps? Her arms were crossed over her chest so he couldn't gauge exactly how sheer the fabric was. Unfortunate, but he could live with the mystery for now. He grinned.

"Well no wonder you're cold," he teased her and lifted up the blankets. "Come on now before you freeze." Lumine glared down at him in contempt. "I'm not going to do anything weird," he insisted. She lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Promise?"

"Maybe I wouldn't go that-"

"I'm sleeping in Tonia's room," Lumine said as she began to turn around.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! I promise I won't do anything weird." Tartaglia urged. She pursed her lips into an unsure frown and climbed into the bed, directly facing him. He nearly forgot to breathe in that moment, she was so close. Her toes brushed against his shin for a moment and he felt how ice cold her skin was. She really hadn't prepared for this trip, had she? At least she wasn't in Snezhnaya alone. She shuffled her arm to her front and placed her hand between their faces, her fingers curled except for one in particular.

"Pinkie promise me you won't do anything weird."

"You really don't trust me, do you?" He didn't even finish before she pushed her hand closer to his face. He was tempted to lightly nip at it just to get a reaction out of her. However, he knew she would be furious if he did, and he wasn't awake enough to chase her down in the snow. He sighed with a small laugh and brought his own hand to meet hers. He hesitated at first, his heart skipping a beat when their fingers first touched. "You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life," Tartaglia started.

"You break a pinkie promise," Lumine continued and narrowed her eyes, "I throw you on the ice." Their little fingers wrapped around each other.

"The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend." He tightened his grip, feeling his breath hitch in his throat. He hoped that she didn't notice how fast his heart was beating.

"The frost will freeze your tongue off, so you never lie again." They unclasped their little fingers and let their hands rest between them, not quite touching, but Tartaglia could start to feel her body heat under the blankets.

"Feeling warmer now that you're with me?" he asked with a smug grin. Lumine nodded and let out a small, breathy yawn that tugged on his heart strings. He wished he could fall asleep as fast as she did. If anything, laying next to her made him even more anxious. Every time she let out a deep breath he held his, unsure of what to do. Of course he knew he should just close his eyes and go to sleep, but he couldn't stop looking at her. She looked so small and calm, unlike the fury and excitement she radiated while awake. Tartaglia liked this side of her too. He stroked her arm with the tips of his fingers, feeling the warmth radiating off her skin, the sensation making his heart beat faster. He had promised he wouldn't do anything weird, but now he wasn't sure what Lumine's definition of weird could be. She stirred in her sleep, startling him to pull his hand away from her. It may have been just a nursery rhyme, but he knew Lumine would literally cut his tongue out if he broke his promise.

He held his breath, waiting for her to wake up and scold him, but she didn't open her eyes. Instead she moved closer to him, and closer to him. One of her legs slid between his, which in turn caused her dress to ride up and expose her abdomen to his own bare stomach. Her hand slid over his navel and reached around to his back under his shirt. The sensation of her smooth skin sent what felt like a bolt of lightning through his body, though somehow far different from any electro powers he’d used. Her face was only inches away from his. Lumine was so close to him that he couldn't breathe for fear of waking her. Yet, the anxiety he felt was invigorating. It was a new and foreign kind of excitement to him that he never even dreamed of experiencing. In fact, he'd never given any thought at all to this kind of intimacy with another person. Lumine. Her thoughts, her feelings, and her body; they were a whole new battlefield for him, one he wasn't sure if he could ever conquer, but that made the idea all the more exciting.

Tartaglia's breath finally escaped his lungs, involuntarily shaky and vocal. He moved his tongue around inside his mouth to get rid of the dryness that had taken hold. Luckily the cold had made it so he wasn't sweating from all of the new sensations he was experiencing. He was starting to feel lightheaded from all of the times he'd held his breath, but that in turn with their combined body heat had also started to make him sleepy. His breath steadied and Tartaglia was finally starting to relax. Lumine was definitely fast asleep, and it didn't look like she was going to wake up to any small movements he made. He decided that wrapping arms around each other wasn't anything weird and moved his arm to cradle her back.

He already knew that he liked her. Since the moment he'd met her he had wanted to be involved in her life, and fighting her had brought him exhilaration he could have only dreamed of. Now he felt that they could have something even more. Lumine was in his home, in his bed with him, the rest of his family sleeping soundly within the house. She didn't belong and yet she fit in so well. He didn't want to let her go. If they could lie there and hold each other forever he might even have been happy with just that. The tiredness was finally beginning to take over. He was as relaxed as he had ever been in her embrace.

Tartaglia shifted to grace Lumine's forehead with a long and chaste kiss, holding her body against his own. He rested his forehead against hers, and finally he was able to let sleep take him.

#genshin impact #genshin childe #genshin lumine #chilumi #genshin tartagalia #fanfic

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anika-ann · 4 years ago

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Attached: Hurtful Words Pt.1

Type: (mini)-series, Modern-college-professor AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 5600

Summary: Stick and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.

You knew for a fact that it was a load of BS. The truth is that words can break your heart. And that realization hits you full force the day you have your last exam to earn your bachelor degree.

If you pass, it will be a cause for great celebration. Spoiler alert: it’s not.

A/N: Attached: Hurtful Words is an addition that loosely followes the series. Will be in two (or three) parts. You don’t necessarily need to read the mini-series as a whole, but you will understand much better.

Warnings: I did something in here which I’m usually trying to avoid at any cost; in this story, I used Y/N Y/L/N. Does that count as a warning?

Warnings II: name calling, humiliation, panic attack!, bad poetry, mentions of vomiting and alcohol, the briefest mention of self-harm, angst, swearing, threats of violence

Story masterlist

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You released the breath you had been holding, all your willpower put into not sinking into the chair in relief as Professor Phillips announced your grade – one that meant that you hadn’t failed.

In fact, you had just passed your last exam of your bachelor program so you were entirely in the right. In your head, an overexcited monkey started playing cymbals and you didn’t mind the noise despite how sleep-deprived you were from the past few days. A barely contained mad smile fought its way to your lips instead.

Mind you, as you thanked Professor Phillips and rose to your feet – your knees almost giving out, because HOLY SHIT YOU JUST GOT YOUR BACHELOR’S – you would swear you saw a brief smile on the professor’s face too as if he was amused at your antics.

But who cared if he was having fun at your expense?! You PASSED! You had been losing sleep, terrified of this exam, because everyone knew Phillips was a hard-ass – a fair one, but still a hard-ass – and you just passed his examination!

Time to pop the fucking champagne! The one Penny had been saving at the dorm from yesterday when she had finished her own degree; she insisted that she would wait for you, because you were in this together.

You couldn’t leave her waiting any longer and you didn’t have any intention to do so.

Leaving the room and walking into the empty hallway – because of course you came the last as if to prolong your torture – you breathed in and out and deliberately let the grin finally spread on your face fully.

You were free, you were ready to take on the world despite not being ready at all and you had Steve, who you suspected would be proud as hell and would celebrate with you tomorrow, graciously letting you and your roomie do it first-- and gosh, life was beautiful.

Making your way down the corridor, with a grin ever-present, a leaflet that hadn’t been there before caught your attention. It appeared a handwritten note, styled in a regular column – a poem perhaps.

Still smiling, the curiosity took the best of you and you walked to it, peripherally noticing that along the walls, there was even more.

You froze in your step when your gaze fell on the first line; your very own name was staring back at you and it confused you at first, a brief surge of excitement lighting up your body, a naïve belief that perhaps Steve somehow decided to surprise you.

But Steve’s last name came next, which you found strange.

And then came the word ‘whore’ and your heart stopped, your gaze automatically flickering all over the page.

Your stomach made a painful somersault, your mind turning blank.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of that nightmare materializing in front of you, reading and re-reading the poem that almost resembled a twisted nursery rhyme over and over.

Y/N Y/L/N Rogers’ whore Bet she’ll get The highest score For sucking dick Having fucked her ass Let’s hope she’ll soon Be eating grass

Darkness battled to cut off your vision, the world swaying off of its place. Involuntarily, your trembling hand reached out and touched the paper, smooth under your fingertips, your frantically beating heart and the vertigo threating to overpower your sense of balance tying you to the reality, screaming at you that this wasn’t just a really fucked-up dream.

You tore the paper down, lump growing in your throat as you looked around for watchful eyes in sudden paranoia of being followed, only to find the hallway deserted aside from you.

Just you and many papers hanging on the walls.

As if you were just a puppet to a spiteful master, your feet carried you to the next leaflet, tears filling your eyes as you found the very same words written on it; a precise copy.

Your breathing picked up a furious pace, your chest crushed under a weight of an invisible elephant stomping on it. The corridor swam in the dampness of your eyes, your mind too quiet and yet screaming with millions of question marks and exclamation points, panic squeezing your lungs, nausea attacking your stomach.

What the hell was happening? Who would do that? Why? What was the goal? Was it just to ruin your triumph?

Because if that was the goal, it was a roaring success; the thousands of questions swirling in your head and the unexpected sting in your heart turned the fact that you had passed an exam into a faint memory.

All you saw was the words.

Rogers’s whore

Was that what you were? Was that how people who knew about the relationship saw you? Was that how Steve saw you?

The highest score for sucking dick

Was that what you were doing? Using Steve’s position to your advantage? Was that how you got through every exam including the one today, even if unwittingly? Was that what Phillips’ little smile had been about?

Hope she’ll soon be eating grass.

Was that a threat? Was someone wishing that happened to you or were they actually about to hurt you? Why?!

Hearing your own wheezing and feeling your fingertips prickling, your foggy mind did the only reasonable thing it could come up with; it led your steps into the nearest bathroom at lightning speed with no regard for how shaky were your feet.

You stumbled into the open stall, smashing the door shut and leaning onto them with your suddenly damp forehead, feeling the cold beads of sweat gather in your hairline, your cheeks drenching in tears.

When did you start crying so hard?

When did the trembling in your limbs begin?

What the fuck was happening?

What-how--why-but-

Your palms rested on the door as you desperately tried and failed to ground yourself and take control of your breathing. Your temples were pounding irritatingly, your gut painfully clenching--- and exactly in that moment that could have lasted a second or an hour, your fingers brushed over a piece of paper stuck on the door.

Darkness curled around your brain like a treacherous friend, another wave of nausea twisting your stomach.

It took you one blurry glance at the paper and you knew precisely what it was, choking on your sob, ripping the offensive poem off and tearing it to pieces which you blindly threw to the toilet, the flushing sound deafening to your ears.

Your shaky legs finally gave out, knees buckling, your body sliding down the stall wall, fingers pulling at your hair as you felt the dizziness engulfing your head, a bitter taste in your mouth.

You gripped tighter, hoping that the pain on the surface would overpower the pain and gaping hole inside, as another violent sob erupted from your throat.

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An eternity later, you felt your whole being float.

Your breathing was still frantic and interrupted with sobs, but a sensation resembling serenity spread in your very core—or perhaps it was just numbness?

You couldn’t seem to be able to tell the difference anymore.

The creak of a door made you cover your mouth to muffle the noises still escaping your lips for the fear of being caught – either being found in this state in general or found as in found by the person who wrote---that – being stronger than the subdued power of your previous breakdown.

It was probably too late for the newcomer to miss your presence, but over the slowly fading ringing in your ears, you could hear a few steps that came to a halt and then they sounded a bit quicker as the woman left.

Thank FUCK. You couldn’t do human interaction of any kind right now.

You removed your hand and breathed out shakily, blinking away the tears.

Shaking your head wildly, you gritted your teeth in a feeble attempt at bolster yourself. You had to get up off your ass and leave before there would be no longer way of avoiding a confrontation – god forbid a confrontation with Steve, who was probably still in a class, testing his own students.

You climbed to your feet, wiping the remains of your tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand and went to fix your ruined make-up, hopefully enough to look little less suspicious when walking through the campus.

It was probably a vain effort, because you were a walking epitome of a mess.

Rogers’s whore, sounded in your ears and you shook your head again, inhaling sharply through your mouth.

It was time to run and then break down again at the dorms. With Penny preferably--or did she think you were a whore too? You were fucking a professor after all-

Stop that!

Penny wasn’t like that. She understood. She’d be willing to listen all about this outrageous act of terror and would sympathize. Right?

Yeah, you’d talk about it with Penny, your amazing friend, who needed a celebration and a very generous amount of alcohol, which happened to be exactly what you needed too.

Yep, that sounded pretty good.

With one last determined glance on your horrible reflection in the mirror, you headed out.

The door nearly hit you in the face on its way back as you threw it open and froze in the doorway.

You did not expect to see someone so soon after leaving your improvised safe space… let alone him.

“Prof-professor Wilson,” you choked out, clearing your scratchy throat as he stood there, unmistakably waiting for you.

Because that was what you needed at the moment. The university counsellor and professor of psychology in one person.

Fuck.

He said you name in a mild tone, almost as if trying to tame a wild animal, but not quite – all his voice made you feel was shame at getting caught. And a bit of anger at the whole fucking world, because why couldn’t you have a tiny piece of peace after seeing that? Just a little shred of luck, huh?!

Oh, right, you were a whore who were only using Professor Rogers, paying for it in sexual favours.

“Mind if we talk in my office for a bit?”

“Not like I really have a choice…” you mumbled automatically, the realization of how rude it sounded dawning to you oh too slowly, your brain too tangled up in a web of self-pity and self-loathing. “Sorry. Of course. Lead the way.”

“Good. Thank you,” he replied, appearing unoffended. “And for the record, you do have a choice.”

Hadn’t you been a wreck with burning tear-stained cheeks, your face might have felt hotter at the kind remark.

At the slowest pace possible, you followed Professor Wilson to his office, dread and exhaustion filling every fibre of your being.

You noticed however that the walls that had been lined with odes about you, put up for everyone to see, had disappeared; possibly Wilson’s own work.

Somehow, it didn’t make you feel much better, the image of the previous addition to the corridors’ decor stuck in your brain. But hey, it was supposed to be the thought that counted, right?

And Professor Wilson was a nice guy. He offered you a drink – sadly a non-alcoholic one – attempted a joke saying that no, it was no trouble getting you one, which was the reason he offered.

Generally, he treated you as if he wanted to provide you with a safe space.

And then he kindly told you that he knew about the poem, because his cousin who’s in her first year here at the uni, texted him what the heck was the e-mail she received on her uni account about.

In other word, he gently broke to you that whoever had done this possibly sent it to every student in the database too.

You nearly threw up hearing that; the pit you had climbed up from and of which edge you were balancing, deepened. But you didn’t fall back there.

Yet.

It was probably because you were still too shocked at the information.

“I hate asking that question, but do you have any idea who did this?” Wilson asked quietly and you had nothing but a helpless shake of a head for a reply. You felt your vision blurring, dizziness fogging your brain again. “Can you think of anyone who holds a grudge against you for some reason?”

A scoff escaped your lips, cynical as you found the answer obvious from the verses.

“Besides dating Steve, you mean?” you noted sarcastically. Wilson waited for more, his eyebrows twitching in surprise and expectation before he got it under control. “Sorry, I meant Professor Rog-“

“Hey, you can call him Steve,” he assured you, so damn sweet and diligent. “I met him, you know, I’d go as far as calling him a friend. And right here, right now, he is not your professor, but your boyfriend. I’m talking to you as a counsellor so feel free to call me Sam if you’re comfortable. And to answer your question, I assume that it is as good motive as any, but the fact that the two of you are dating is practically a public knowledge at this point, so it doesn’t really narrow our field of suspects.”

Despite his openness and kind approach, you once again could only shrug, growing desperate by the minute. The urge to leave – because suddenly it made even more sense, him taking you here, he was friends with Steve, he was stalling – became unbearable.

You didn’t have the strength to see Steve now. You couldn’t. You would question every gesture, analyse everything and perhaps came to the conclusion that he agreed with the author of the poem and you desperately didn’t want that. You needed to forget about this, preferably with an unhealthy amount of alcohol, you needed to cry some more, you needed ice-cream and a hug and to bitch about everything and you needed a fucking nap that would last at least a week.

“I don’t know who hates me that much, I swear. Can I please go now?”

Sam cocked his head to side, a minute frown creasing his brows. “Is that what you want?”

Do you really want to leave before Steve gets a chance to get here?

You should probably feel guilty. You wanted to feel guilty, because that was you being a coward and it was downright mean to Steve, who would no doubt learn about this very soon and from someone else, but you didn’t have the capacity to think about anything at all besides feeling like you were going to explode any second.

“Yes. Thanks for being nice and all, but I—I’d rather go.”

“You have a roommate? A friend you live with and who’s in?” he fussed, voice gravely, amiable chocolate eyes observing you with worry. Did he think you were about to hurt yourself? Did you look like the type? Were you? You mentally shook your head. Jesus.

“Yeah,” you creaked, already rising to your feet, endlessly grateful that he was letting you go. “Penny. We— uhm, we were supposed to go celebrating.”

You nearly choked on the last word, feeling like everything but going out tonight. The idea of going out and facing all the stares cause by the widely-spread e-mail made your stomach clench.

You kinda lost the appetite to celebrate anything to begin with; all the relief and joy, which had filled every last bit of your being post-learning your grade, vanished and was replaced by a dark sticky substance filling your lungs, your gut, your veins, muffling the outside world.

Perhaps Penny would agree to a loud night in?

“You can still do that, that’s up to you. But please, get some sleep and don’t be alone. Here,” he stood up as well, handing you a card. “My number, even if you just need to talk to a sort-of outsider and word-vomit all over someone, okay?”

You couldn’t argue with his offer – you had a feeling you’d vomit soon, either verbally or literally. Still, you charmed a shaky smile that probably turned out a grimace.

“K. Thanks… Sam.”

“Any time.”

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Of course, Wilson’s unspoken question about moving quick to avoid an encounter with certain professor was painfully on point.

You bailed on Steve whom you were supposed to wait for even if just for a hug and congratulations, practically running to the dorm, your unsteady feet and tears still clouding your vision be damned.

You ignored the ringing of your phone, assuming it was Steve himself; bile rose to your throat at the idea of hearing his voice at that moment. He tried twice before you smashed the power button and threw the phone back to your purse, breathing out in relief and wanting to puke at the same time.

You truly couldn’t find the capacity to deal with him momentarily – you needed to be alone and safe from any prying eyes, preferably in the comfort of your shared dorm with Penny. You cried harder when you finally reached it, your feet hurting from attempting to run in heels.

It wasn’t hard to figure out that Penny somehow already knew, probably from the e-mail – it was written all over her face. And hadn’t her expression been enough, instead of a celebratory champagne she handed you a shot of a transparent liquid the moment you opened the door.

You turned it bottoms up without questioning it and asked for another. Penny grabbed the bottle of vodka waiting on the shoe rack and poured one for you and one for herself. You didn’t bother clinking the glasses.

Though the burn in your throat felt pleasant, it did nothing to sooth the burn in your eyes and heart. Penny’s embrace made it a bit better.

So did the third shot of vodka.

You didn’t switch on your phone that day again – and when it was nearing midnight, after a four-hour nap, you convinced Penny to go celebrate to the Freddy’s as you had originally planned to do. You pretended that no one stared at you and instead you danced and drank until your mind was swimming enough for the sorrow and anger to drown.

You were one lucky bitch to have Penny walk you home.

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Steve was sitting at his desk at the faculty office he shared with Bucky and was working hard at what he excelled at for these past days despite his genuine efforts at not doing so; getting absolutely nothing done at all.

His hands had grown somewhat unsteady, a reflection of how he was feeling, how torn and absurdly broken he had become. He was spilling drinks on a regular basis, items kept falling from his flimsy hold. His brain felt foggy these days as well, most likely a consequence of the shitty sleep he was getting.

His bed felt too big despite his rather large frame and too cold despite his body temperature usually running almost too high; the sheets smelled strange and foreign despite being his own and the bed screamed with emptiness on a volume that kept interrupting his already deficient sleep.

Four days.

Four days since one stupid poem knocked his world out of its orbit and everything that mattered crashed down. Well, perhaps not everything, Steve happened to like his job too and he still had it, but such detail seemed insignificant; it certainly did in comparison to the fact that he had been attempting and had failed to reach you.

Calls.

Texts.

Few e-mails when he felt particularly helpless and frustrated.

His messed up sleeping and eating schedule and the irregularity that came with the exam period would make a perfect case of him losing any notion of time – yet Steve knew about every second without you, practically counting them.

He could still see Sam Wilson standing outside the classroom he had been testing students’ knowledge in as if it happened yesterday. He could recall with painfully stark clarity the unreadable expression on his face and the ominous “Steve, man… we need to talk.”

Steve still remembered Tony Stark waltzing in the next day with a baby in some sort of a front backpack, agitated that someone had gotten into the database, let alone to send all the hate-emails, and how he announced he found the culprit and their accomplices in an hour, which apparently happened to be too long to his liking.

Steve would smile at the memory of the technical genius’ antics, but the gaping hole in his chest caused by the deafening silence from you prevented it. Hell, not even the vivid picture of Carol Danvers from the faculty of law, moonlighting like a member of the legal department of the university, made the corners of his lips rise.

And hadn’t it been quite a show, a downright uplifting experience.

Steve was watching the screen with a frown, a stone-solid clench to his jaw and a firm clench to his fists.

It was almost amusing really; Bucky kept going about Fury being a creep and not a spy, but despite the lack of a one-way glass, the space Carol and the girl was in – just like two other rooms, each with one man – resembled an interrogation room. Steve never had been more grateful for audio and video feed in his life, but he sure as hell wasn’t laughing in delight at being proved right.

In fact, it had been taking all of his willpower not to burst into those rooms and give a piece of his mind to every single person guilty of being involved in hurting you. In causing his life to collapse on itself.

Steve couldn’t quite recall the brunet Carol was roasting, but he suspected he had seen her in one of the classes he was teaching. She didn’t stand out from the crowd of students and he didn’t see anything special about her worth remembering; then again, he tended to forget to take notice of other pretty faces ever since he had laid his eyes on yours.

And right now, all he saw was a face of a vicious bitch who forced you into pushing him away and a single look at her had his blood boiling.

Steve truly wanted to punch the living daylights of her and that said something, because he prided himself in having moral objection to hitting women, especially from sheer anger.

However, the desire was growing with each piece of information he learned. Because Yvonne Whatever-Is-Her-Name was a piece of work for fucking certain.

She talked a guy number one, whom she was attending Introduction to Social Studies 101 and who had a very apparent teenage-like crush on her, into reaching out to his friend, guy number two, whom he often played some online video game with, into hacking the database, sending the e-mails and finding out when and where exactly your exam was, just so Yvonne herself could redecorate the corridors and bathroom and make sure you wouldn’t miss her work of art.

Carol was alternating between visiting each of the ‘suspects’ and man, did they sing like birds.

Steve wanted to strangle them all, but fuck, the hatred for Yvonne Burton specifically was already consuming him and gnawing at his very soul; yes, he found out her last name just so he knew his mortal enemy. He was going to burn her to the ground, one way or the other… not that Carol hadn’t been doing a fine job so far.

That damn brunet had tears running down her face, sobbing occasionally, but still rarely sassing back. Somehow, seeing her like that wasn’t half as satisfying as Steve hoped, because his mind kept wandering to you and wondering if you looked about the same and every time such picture formed in his head, he hated Ms.Burton a fraction more.

She had used a guy who liked her, which Carol blatantly pointed out. The lawyer didn’t seem to hold back her own snark if the question about how the culprits met – via some forum for bruised ego, was it? – was anything to go by.

“I might be a lawyer, but I’m begging for every art professor and author I know – stay away from poetry. What you wrote is a child’s rhyme really, but like every writing, it says a lot about who you are. And it gives me a plenty of ammunition. We have two names, one full, one last name pointing out a specific person from the context. If I play my cards right, we have defamation on our hands, libel to be precise. Congratulation,” Carol remarked in a surprisingly calm voice. The other woman visibly paled. Good. “And what about the last line? Is that… is that a threat of violence? I can make it harassment, but if I try hard enough, perhaps we can consider it something more serious…?”

“You don’t get to threaten me! You’re lying! I’ve done nothing wrong and so serious!” the girl – and really, in Steve’s eyes, she was nothing but a stupid girl who somehow managed to kick his life in its balls – exploded, jumping to her feet.

Carol levelled her with a glare and an irritated hiss. “Sit down.” Burton did, clammy hands curled up in trembling fists. “And you’ve done more than enough.”

“You don’t understand!”

“Oh don’t I? Be my guest then. Explain it. Your motivation, the legal side, anything. I’m all ears.”

“I love him!” the girl exclaimed and Steve grinded his teeth as a surge of rage shooting through his veins.

Like fucking hell she did. He didn’t remember even talking to her if he ever had to start with and she loved him?!

Was that really what this was about? This girl somewhat liked him and got obsessed? Decided to wreck his girlfriend? To what end? To drive the two of you apart? To make you hate him so he would run to her? To simply ruin your future? What the fuck was wrong with her?! She was a damn kid with hurt pride and zero efforts put in so far, because he couldn’t even remember her-

“Oh you really don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t have done this,” Carol responded with a cold edge to her voice, apparently agreeing with Steve’s thoughts and being equally unimpressed with Ms.Burton dramatic confession.

“I’m fighting for him! Ain’t nothing wrong-”

Oh Steve would argue with that so hard. He could feel Sam watching him from the corner of his eye, but neither of them said anything as Steve gripped the edge of the table the monitors were on.

He was sure he was going to be sick, the edge of his vision doing something he only read about; as if truly turning red, crimson with hunger for blood. He never ever craved tearing someone in half, not a single one of the guys who bullied him in school, not the girls that laughed at him when he said he liked them; and make no mistake, he had always felt mad enough.

But right now, he tasted undiluted rage and it tasted like acid with a bitter aftertaste of iron and copper, searing hot on his tongue and spreading through his body, turning it heavy and nauseatingly light at the same time.

“No, you’re ruining his life,” Carol emphasized, leaning onto the table and glaring murder at the girl. “If this is your idea of fighting for someone, it’s pretty twisted. You could have done literally anything to make him notice you, hell, pick you, but leave if he still said no, because that’s a sensible thing to do. But instead, you hurt someone he cared about. And that means you hurt him too – not to mention that his name is in there, possibly putting a scrap on his reputation. If you did love him, you’d want him to be happy.”

Steve gulped and looked away, unable to bear the weight of Carol’s words, feeling the jab on his own person. Because he was familiar with being accused of ruining someone’s life and future despite seemingly loving them. God knew that on a rainy day, he wondered about his own ‘love’ and its purity too – and now, it was fucking pouring and Steve had been forced to question everything he knew.

Was this little brunet Satan a godsend in fact? Was she supposed to tell him to stop lying to himself about not being your doom? Just what kind of a mess this stunt would have made had you been working a steady job and this got to your employer?

A gentle hand reached for his shoulder, a silent support, and Steve found himself torn between irritated, grateful and deeply ashamed.

No matter how much he hated it, he should be on the list to get punched for hurting you too.

“So, sorry to break it to you, but you don’t love him,” Carol continued and with Sam’s palm on his shoulder, Steve forced himself to watch the scene, the grand finale. “You’re just a little girl with attitude issues, a crush that got out of hand, and a ton of luck for knowing a guy willing to help you. Guess what – you just ran out of that luck.”

Heavy silence fell on the interrogation room and Steve’s eyes slid shut, hearing Carol and Yvonne’s parting words.

“And just so you know, she didn’t get the highest score. She got a B.”

Steve didn’t even know that and despite all the shit they were in, he felt a surge of pride for his g- hopefully still his girl.

At the same time, the fact that he learned it from Carol and not from you as he still couldn’t reach you, felt like a punch to his solar plexus.

Carol entered the monitoring room with a discontent expression on her face, wordlessly telling Steve and Sam that the conversation, no matter how harsh, wasn’t satisfying enough.

Still, Steve glanced at her and nodded with severity.

“Thank you, Carol,” he rasped, surprised by how hoarse his own voice sounded; for the burn of rage in his stomach and the tension in his muscles, he almost forgot about the lump gradually growing in his throat with each hour of silence from you.

“My damn pleasure,” Carol huffed with slight irritation, one clearly not aimed at Steve. She subtly raised her eyebrows. “I kinda want to punch her, but I guess I’m not the only one, huh?”

Steve sighed and closed his eyes, his hands almost shaking with the said need. Still, it was surprisingly relieving to be called out on that and to learn that he wasn’t the only one. And when he opened his eyes again, the look on Carol’s face told him that she wasn’t blaming him one bit.

“You have no fucking idea, I- Jesus, I never wanted to—to-- so much in my life.“

The rise of one corner of her lips was sympathetic. “We’ll handle this, Steve. I know it’s hard to hear, but you can’t really help us here. Go home. Rest.”

The lump in Steve’s throat grew nearly suffocating at the idea of going to the empty apartment, where his uselessness became even more evident. Steve eyed Sam, searching with hope for any sign of a better advice, but the counsellor only nodded to second Carol’s thought.

“Go home and try to call your girl. She’ll pick up eventually.”

At that time Steve had done exactly that – however, the result had remained identical to those with his previous attempts. You hadn’t picked up and he had left a voicemail and a pathetic text that somehow seemed to be reflecting all of his insecurities and doubts about your relationship and it hadn’t turned out at all as he had planned – and then it had been too late to take it back.

He had sent another and another, almost hour after hour and he was gradually realizing that he was forgoing all hope and his faith in what you two had and what it could become in the future; and god, did he want the future so badly.

But he couldn’t always get what he wanted, could he? He thought that a miracle had happened when he had first met you and later heard your yes to the date. But here you were.

Four days from that terrible incident.

Did Steve even believe that you two were supposed to be together? He didn’t even know anymore. Perhaps it was an intervention from some higher power and you two breaking apart was meant to be, saving you a heartbreak and disillusions which were about to come later.

He squeezed his eyes shut at the thought and the sensation that felt like a punch to his gut, his insides cramping.

That was not true. You two loved each other. You had found something truly amazing in each other and you were about to reach out to him any minute so you could continue to your brighter future together.

…right?

Except a minute passed by and nothing happened, the phone Steve was toying with remaining silent.

No received text or e-mail.

No incoming call.

Another minute and then another ten, the phone still spinning in his hand in almost a reflex at that point and still not lighting up.

The knot in Steve’s gut turned tighter and tighter, the tension in his shoulders and jaw growing, his mantra of you surely contacting him gradually falling silent.

Finally, he came to the decision that only fools kept doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result.

He was supposed to do that a long long time ago, the moment he had convinced himself that coming knocking on your dorm could be considered harassment… and would break his heart in case you’d shut the door to his face telling him you were done with him.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Steve swept through his contacts and dialled your best friend and roommate in one person.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Part 2

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Thank you for reading!

Let me know what you thought! I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ doing something with randomly timed shots to a series, so… you know. I’m a bit nervous. And I guess that this is very different from what this series was so far too, so I hope it’s okay. Thank you :-*

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 years ago

Text

Diary of the Writing Raven

Part 3 of the 1000+ follower milestone! A continuation of Raven lore (check out part 1 and part 2 for more context)!

Today, we will peak into the raven’s diary. Shhh, don’t tell anyone. The bulk of the entries are hidden under the cut--because a bird has to keep their secrets under lock and key!

***Warning: Spoilers for the main story campaign, particularly chapter 3 and chapter 4!***

Day 1

I am here. At Night Raven College.

There is a strange man. He calls himself my Uncle. He says that he is so very, very kind...and that he will give me a nest, a place to call home.

Uncle has given me this diary with which to record my thoughts. I will put it to good use.

I am thankful.

Day 32:

Uncle says I cannot stay in the attic writing.

He says I cannot stay in my cage forever.

Uncle says I must go out into the world.

He says it often.

I am scared.

Day 45

Uncle has given me robes.

He smeared things on my face.

There will be a ceremony of sorts, and I must attend.

...I am still scared.

Day 46

The ceremony is over.

I got lost on the way to the Mirror Chamber.

A weirdo chased me.

But...a nice person helped. Then he guided me to the ceremony.

He had very pretty eyes.

His name is Mon-sure Schemer? Mister Jade Leech. I hope I can see him again.

Day 49

I am so fortunate! I have stumbled upon Mister Jade again--this time in the hallway.

There was another Mister Jade with him. His name is actually Mister Floyd. They are brothers--twins, in fact! Eel mermen, too.

They look alike, but their personalities are quite different. It is a curious thing.

Mister Floyd is a little scary. He talks funny, and he is moody--but he promises he does not bite. He has taken to calling me “Black Pearly”.

They say they work at this “Mostro Lounge”, and that I should visit.

I am excited!

P.S. Mister Jade says I do not need to call them misters. I will be doing that!

Day 50

The Mostro Lounge is lovely! It has these glowing jellyfish lights, and seashell decorations. There is cool jazz, and a calming underwater ambiance.

Jade seats me and gives me recommendations. I don’t know what a lot of things on the menu are--Uncle has been feeding me mostly grain and small scraps of meat, trying to get me accustomed to human food.

Jade brings me a thing called Flounder’s Blue. He says it will be easier to hold down than solid food.

Flounder’s Blue comes in a short and stout glass. The liquid itself is actually yellow, with streaks of a blue drip swiped on the inside of the glass, and a blue...circle (?) stuck in, protruding out like a fin.

It tastes...sugary. I do not yet have the words in my vocabulary to properly describe it.

Jade tells me the circle is a “wafer”, the blue is a “syrup”, and the liquid is a “pineapple and cherry juice”.

I am learning many new things today.

Jade is so smart!

Day 54

I almost flopped at giving a presentation to Professor Trein’s class.

Floyd says it’s because I talk strangely, that I stutter and pause too much.

“Why can the Black Pearly write so much, but talk so little?” he asks. “You should tell Jade to tutor you, he’s pretty good with words!”

I have to agree with him. Jade taught me many new words in the Mostro Lounge before. I was embarrassed, but I asked him for help.

He was happy to oblige.

We will meet a few times each week to work on my speaking skills.

Day 59

I tripped and fell in P.E.--I am still no good at running.

Jade was sweet and helped patch me up.

I cried a little.

Okay, a lot.

He stayed with me until I stopped.

Day 71

I have gotten into the habit of visiting the Mostro Lounge every weekend.

The owner, Azul, is friends with the twins. He lets me sit at a table in the corner to do my work and practice speaking.

Jade sits with me and exchanges words.

He has me read stories I have penned aloud.

Sometimes he puts a plate of snacks or a drink in front of me and asks me to taste them, then describe the flavor to him. Other times, he points to people or things in the lounge and asks me to give my thoughts.

Once, he pointed at himself. I told him that he was very patient, that he was someone I trusted.

“Fufu. That is good to hear,” he says.

I also told him that his smile was beautiful.

Day 75

Today, I saw Jade’s true form.

We were swimming today in P.E., but I had to sit out. Ravens cannot swim.

Floyd and Jade were eager to get into the water. Their skin turns blue, and they sprout fins and long eel tails.

...I am not entirely certain why they lack clothing though? It must not be customary for merfolk.

They are having fun in the water.

I am glad.

Day 83

An angry Savanaclaw student came to me in the hallway after Alchemy.

He started to say something about the Leeches and deals, but Floyd told him to stop bothering me. In that moment...Floyd looked like a monster, all teeth and sharp edges.

Jade pulled me away and invited me to go hiking with him.

It sounds fun, but I am concerned about the Savanaclaw student.

Jade says to not fret.

So I listen.

Day 84

There is so much to see in the mountains!

Trees! Streams of water! Rocks! Dirt! Animals! Plants! The sky!

I want to experience everything at once. I am so excitable that I trip over my own two feet a few times--but it’s okay. Jade is always there to help me up.

His favorite thing about nature is mushrooms. He tells me all about them, and the places they like to hide.

I like listening to him talk. His voice is so deep and melodious--and his eyes sparkle when he is excited.

It’s very cute.

Day 86

Jade shows me the mushrooms he is cultivating, and his terrariums.

They are fascinating--each mushroom has its own personality, and each terrarium is like a miniature world.

A thought has wormed its way into my head as of late:

I wonder what it would be like to be a part of his world.

Day 90

It rained.

I shared an umbrella with Jade.

It was a little strange to be squished right next to him.

My heart would not stop pounding, and my cheeks were on fire.

Day 112

The days are growing colder, and shorter.

I wish that time did not fly so fast.

I want to spend more of it with Jade.

I need to return the jacket he lent me.

Day 120

Uncle is worried.

He says I spend too much time with “morally dubious” people.

He questions my ability to judge character.

He does not believe me when I tell him that Jade is a good person.

Uncle warns me to be careful.

I am being careful.

Day 132

Winter has set in.

Jade is kind enough to provide blankets and warm beverages for our study sessions.

At this point, I do not have many issues speaking, but...I do not want to stop. I want to learn more and more. I want to learn more about him.

I enjoy being by his side.

I hope he feels the same.

Day 139

We said our good-byes for the holiday break.

Uncle is taking me with him to a tropical island, and Jade is staying in Octavinelle.

I tell him I will miss him, even if it is just for a few weeks. He looks a bit sad, but he sends me off with a head pat and a smile.

Uncle offers to order me a tropical drink as we board the cruise ship. He tells me not to think of Leeches--those vile, blood-suckers, he calls them.

I say no thank you, but I dream of Flounder’s Blue.

Day 153

The new year has come.

It feels nice to be back on campus, to see Jade again.

We exchanged stories.

Not much happened on my end--I mostly sat indoors and wrote what I could to pass the time. Uncle was often up late into the night, partying and sipping on pina coladas.

Jade says that he helped a few friends and stopped a snake from tearing apart Scarabia. He even shows me a video.

How heroic of him!

I know that I can always count on Jade.

Day 166

I went shopping with Jade.

Floyd was in one of his infamous moods, and Azul is busy with school work--and Jade could not possibly restock ingredients for the Mostro Lounge all by himself.

It was quite busy in town--it made me nervous. I’ve never done well in big crowds of strangers.

Jade said I could hold his hand, if that made me feel any better.

It did.

And it reminded me of the day we first met.

Day 170

I’m still thinking about holding his hand.

Whenever I do, my heart quickens and my forehead begins to bead with sweat.

What is wrong with me?

Have I fallen ill?

Day 185

The students speak excitedly about this holiday known as “Valentime’s Day.” It is a time when you give gifts to the people you care for a lot. A common one is a sweet known as chocolate.

Jade laughed when I told him about it. He said it is actually “Valentine’s Day”, not “Valentime’s Day”. Silly me!

I asked him how many valentines he was expecting.

“None. Oh, woe is me. I appear to be rather unpopular among my peers, fufu.”

How could someone as amazing as him not get any valentines? It boggles my mind.

Day 186

I’ve decided.

I will give him a valentine.

Day 193

I’ve stopped writing stories and devoted most of my free time to researching recipes and designing chocolates.

I think he will like little mushroom-shaped ones. I’ll need to test the flavors out to see what works the best.

I hope the chocolates will bring a smile to his face.

I like his smiles.

Day 195

Oh no, diary.

I’ve realized.

I think I like him.

Day 197

The chocolates came out so well!

I’ve wrapped them up in a box and secured it with blue ribbon. There is an old nursery rhyme...

If you love me, love me true,

Send me a ribbon, a ribbon of blue.

Even if I cannot say those accursed three words...I hope that my feelings are able to come across. The curse cannot punish me for that, yes?

Day 198

I was a fool. I have been tricked. I was being used.

I heard them. I heard everything.

In the Mostro Lounge today...the octopus was speaking to them, the twins with the pretty eyes.

“This is not like you. You are working too slow,” the octopus said to the man I considered my friend.

“I apologize. She was...putting up much resistance. It can be rather difficult to form a connection with such a jittery bird.”

“That is your job,” the octopus sighed. “We need the raven on our side when we approach the headmaster about expanding the Mostro Lounge.”

I understand now--I understand it very well.

Those smiles, that kindness--they were smoke and mirrors.

To begin with, I was always destined to be a prop in someone else’s story. A convenience. Something to be used, then discarded once I am no longer useful.

I have overstepped my boundaries as a storyteller. I...should have remained on the sidelines, where I belong.

I...I know what I must do. I will not allow myself to be tricked a third time. Not by that old storyteller, and not by a slimy eel.

I will steel myself. I will build a wall—and none shall scale it. I will lock myself in a tower, or perhaps even a bird cage, and throw away the key.

To the man with the pretty eyes and the charming smile, farewell.

I’m glad that this raven was, at the very least, able to be a useful footnote in the pages of your story.

Day 201

He feeds me pretty lies and sweet nothings, day in and day out.

He tells me everything I want to hear--that it is a misunderstanding, a mistake. That things are different now. That he cares.

Uncle was right. Leeches are vile blood suckers.

Day 210

I reject his advances every chance I get.

I know they are all with ill intent to begin with.

Even so...no matter what I say or do, he always manages to get the upper hand in the conversation, the interaction.

I hate him.

I hate Jade Leech.

I hate how he is able to take my words away and render me speechless. Words are my only strength, my power as a storyteller. Without them, I am vulnerable.

I don’t want to be the same weak and naive little bird I once was.

Day 213

It is unfair.

Maybe I am too kind, or too weak, or too gullible, but...I want to believe him.

I must put such thoughts behind me and move on.

Day 226

Uncle tells me that someone has sent a letter and a small package.

Into the trash the package goes--right where it belongs.

But the letter--that, I cannot bring myself to throw away.

It bears his handwriting, the very same gentle curves and slopes that taught me new words and phrases many an evening.

It is silly of me to be this sentimental--and over an eel, of all creatures!

So I stow the letter, unopened, in a drawer. It will remain there as a permanent reminder of my follies.

It is better this way.

I cannot be hurt.

I will not be used.

The curse will not kill me.

I can write stories, forever and ever.

This is...for the best. Isn’t it?

#Jade Leech #Floyd Leech #Azul Ashengrotto #Dire Crowley #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #spoilers #angst #STOP READING MY DIARY #Tale of the Cursed Raven #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #Raven Crowley

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depths-of-hope-and-despair · 3 years ago

Text

Doubts

The next day, Aditi opted to clear her conscience by planning for the future. The next few days, she could visit Hajime and talk out her concerns. The Trifle situation was... more difficult. She paced outside her sister’s door for.. hours it felt like. In reality, it was only five minutes of hyping herself up, only to chicken out and speed walk back to her room. Her brain being so busy with ideas and studying dreams means she felt exhausted by the end of the day. Enough to fall asleep normally instead of with alcohol.

She suspected these dreams in her sleep was a form of self-analysis. That Albert was merely a character that existed in her head, that she could use to learn about herself. But, his reactions were independent of her? That wouldn’t make much sense. Least to say, when the dream blurred into her vision, she was the first to speak this time. “Do you exist independently from these dreams?” She blurred out without giving a second to consider waiting.

“Good day to you too.” Albert responded without the usual bravado, reading through the notebook he had been writing in the whole time, clapping it shut again, the usual smile appearing back on his face as he responded casually: “I don’t see how this is relevant to our progression, Aditi. If we were here to smalltalk and dilly dally, I would have met you in a cafe.”

He smirked a little as he remarked: “Dilly dallying is quite the entertaining word, don’t you think?” He chuckled to himself as he opened a drawer in his desk, procuring some papers, eyes roaming over them.

“You’re as humorous as you are straightforward, Doctor.” Aditi muttered in annoyance.

“For today I thought we could do a little personality test. Nothing too intrusive, it is just there to distinguish your basic characteristics, like punctuality, empathy, introversion or extraversion etcetera etcetera, you can also choose not to answer if you are not comfortable. All of these questions can be responded with ‘yes’ or ‘no’, you do not need to elaborate in any way.”

Aditi folded her arms together, much like a pouting child and rolled her eyes. She figured that questioning him any further was a dead end at this point. He was fair too cryptic and waffling to let her in on secrets. With a disappointed huff, she nodded to give her agreement to the test.

He wrote Aditi’s name on the paper and then read some of the questions to her:

“When I see someone crying, I feel the urge to hug them and try to make them feel better.”

“I often miss public transportation.”

“You can find me at the club every Friday night.”

“Family is extremely important to me.”

“I need social interactions every day to function.”

“I like to try out new things.”

The first, made her pause. Did she feel the need to hug or comfort anyone she saw crying? The answer was no. Crying only immediately provoked curiosity in her. Her sympathy pains only seemed to be accessible only with her loved ones. People she knew, and already could appreciate. Both being true, her choice was to stay neutral. “No answer.”

The second was simple. The few times she relied on public transportation, she was never late. Rather she stressed about being early. “No.”

The third took no time either. Easily assumed, she was a wallflower, and hardly ever had fun at parties. Unless illegal means were involved. “No.”

Family. The ones she chose as family, yes. Celia? Trifle? Knifu? The first name, no. The second.. yes? And the third was yes. So, she decided to follow suit. “Yes.”

Did she need to interact with someone everyday? No. She went without it for years being raised by Celia. “No.”

Trying new things? Adventure. Discovery. Absolutely. “Yes.”

He nodded along to her answers, occasionally looking down to jot the right square, a smirk edging on his face at the attitude Aditi was giving him. “Are you doubting my measures? Just wait for it. By the end of this test you might be surprised by how much more I know about you. I’ll just need a day to properly evaluate it.”

Amusement was edging on his face, a weird static atmosphere starting to fill the office as he continued with his questions, making sure his voice was clear so there wouldn’t be misunderstandings.

Aditi stared back defiantly, clearly not buying his claim. Answering a few questions with yes or no wasn’t nearly enough to get an idea of what that person was like. The static noise and atmosphere didn’t phase her outside of a more narrowed sharp gaze. He continued:

“I regularly go on holidays.”

“I suffer from thoughts that don’t seem to be my own.”

“I don’t understand social cues often.”

“I have a hard time imagining myself in someone else's shoes.”

“I feel the urge to physically harm people that have done me wrong.” His eyes flicked up to her for a moment to see her reaction.

Regular holidays? That referred to taking breaks and enjoying the company of others, didn’t it? “Yes.” She nodded.

Hear thoughts that aren’t her own? She remembered struggling with this since childhood, even before Celia. “Yes.”

Social cues. At first, she struggled with them desperately. Nowadays? She was fair better at reading the room, but not too comfortable to call herself an expert. “Yes.”

This one was easy. A perspective empathy question. She often exorcised her ability to relive the memories of others, in order to gain more empathy for them. While it was intrusive, it was the fastest way to understand. “No.”

The last question caused some amount of discomfort. She clearly didn’t like the question. But she disliked her answer even more so. “... Yes.” She admitted, glancing away while doing so.

His grin widened at her answers, quickly writing down the answers and reassuring her. “You‘re doing great. Don’t worry, we are almost done...” He flipped the page, a soft singing was audible, so quiet it could almost be missed. It sounded like a little girl singing a nursery rhyme, but in another language, so it wasn’t sure what she was singing.

When he talked, it sounded like multiple voices, hushed whispers accompanying him like backup singers, but the man himself didn’t pay it any mind, continuing as if nothing weird was going on.

“I wish that I had more friends than I actually have.”

“I feel the urge to harm people for no clear reason.”

“I feel scared of what the future holds for me.”

“I feel guilty.”

“I feel disliked by people around me.”

“Get out of here.”

His voice was very quiet compared to the whispers that were accompanying him, maybe those weren’t actually the questions he was asking and just the whispers, but he looked at Aditi expectantly. The whispers were still audible, telling Aditi to leave.

Aditi listened to the whispers and singing combining together into a whirl of madness. It was much like a nightmare, one of the standard ones that showed anxiety in others. People could hear voices of disdain talking to them mostly when they themselves felt judged by others. None of this triggered her into a breakdown thankfully, only medical themes or visions of past mistakes caused her to falter. While unnerved, she pressed forward, eyes narrowing in response to his encouragement.

Did she want more friends? She has been told many times that she isn’t easy to approach, and when she takes initiative that can turn poorly as well. Part of her wishes was that she looked more inviting. “Yes.”

A desire to harm others for no reason. Generally, no. She didn’t want to hurt people without reason. Only when she lost control did she feel that impulse. Of course, she considered herself a sadist to an extent also. Those factors made this question difficult to answer. “No answer.”

Scared of the future? Who isn’t scared of the future? Of the unknown? It’s only natural to feel that way, right? “Yes.”

Guilty. She barely had to think of her answer. “Yes.”

Does she feel disliked? That’s strange too. Her whole life, she was surrounded by people who wanted to kill her, or adored her. The laboratory experiment children would’ve gladly watched her drop dead. The cultist would’ve given their lives for her. Only now was there a happy medium. But... the bitterness of the past wouldn’t let her see on the brighter side. “Yes.”

“Very good, Aditi. You are doing great. We are almost done actually.“ He jotted more stuff down, his expression looking a little off from just a few seconds ago.

“I just have 5 more questions for you and then we can end tonight’s session.“ he informed her, turning the Page, fingers tightening around the paper and crumpling it lightly. He opened his mouth, but suddenly his voice was completely gone. It was like he got muted, in his place the whispers filling the room. He still held eye contact, though it was more like he was looking through Aditi, something clearly on his mind. And instead of the questions she heard:

“I’m sorry this is all my fault.”

“You don’t deserve this.”

“It should have never come to this.”

“He’s hunting you. He’s a monster.”

“Get out of here.”

His mouth closed again and he looked at Aditi expectantly, waiting for her answers. He looked less worried and more hopeful now, a giddy glint in his eerie eyes.

While shutting out the instructive thoughts was easy enough when she could hear a voice over them. Now? No. It wasn’t easy at all. Not easy to stare straight again. Not easy to keep from flinching every time the voice asked a question. Not easy to hold her neutral gaze. It reminded her all too much of how it felt to lose control. To be consumed by despair. Her thoughts no longer being her own, only whispers and taunts, keeping her at bay, pulling her down to let her instincts do all of the work. Her head felt.. fuzzy. Aditi felt similarly at this moment. Her lips curled into an uncomfortable scowl. What the hell is this? It hadn’t been nearly this unsettling the other times they spoke. What was getting in the way?

Or.. was this the plan all along? To earn her trust more, only to make the dreams devolve into hellish nightmares? She sincerely hoped that wasn’t the case.

The whispers suddenly stopped as he opened his mouth again, asking Aditi: “Are you alright, Aditi? You look a bit pale.“

Something really didn’t want this session to continue. But if the doctor noticed, he did a good job at hiding it.

“..... I couldn’t hear your questions.” She admitted quietly, her eyes shifting around the room carefully. “Voices spoke over you. Whether they were in my head or not, I’m uncertain. They are...” She paused once again, thinking over if she should be honest or not in this situation. Ultimately, she decided against lying. “They are.. apologizing to me? Saying I do not deserve this. It should’ve never come to this? He, whoever that is, seems to be hunting me. He is a monster? They are.. telling me to leave..”

He regarded her, expression serious as he listened to Aditi, contemplating something for a few seconds, then ultimately sighing. He looked around the room again, as if he could make out the voices and silence them, ultimately deciding to try and explain: “It is probably your subconsciousness running wild from stress...“

He set the test aside, leaning forward to give Aditi a comforting touch. It was cold as ice.

“Let us end the session a little early, alright? You don’t need to answer those questions. I’ll just review the test without them.“ he reassured her, a sad glint in his eyes.

“Orabelle.”

The voices were a lot quieter now, but it was probably for the better to end this meetup earlier to start better off on the last one.

“Rest easy, Aditi. I’ll see you tomorrow.“

Aditi didn’t understand. She sat with shifting eyes, looking left to right like a frightened child. It made her feel weak for her emotions to be easily sensed or stated. It felt wrong to hear her dead name be spoken aloud in her ear, so wrong that it caused her to flinch back and fumble. Her eyes narrowed so angrily at the voice, she nearly forgot to take his hand. “... This was a mistake..” Her grip on his hand was uncomfortably tight now, she seemed to seethe with contempt.

This only happened after she put faith in him and gave away sensitive information about her past. She thought it was of little consequence, yet here it was... being shoved in her face. Taunting her. This being was taunting her, wasn’t he? Mocking her. Before she could convey her distrust, the dream had faded away like the smoke of fireworks.

#💥 live action 💥#🥀 aditi speaks 🎲#(( one more part left… ))

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simpleiscool · 5 years ago

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JAKE ON WAVE BROADCAST A SUMMARY (or the things that stood out to me lmao)

1. Jake decided to major in acting before deciding on becoming an actor in his second year. He was considering set design but he got injured and that scared him away lmao.

2. Most memorable character: Zi Shuo from Close Your Eyes Before It's Dark.

3. Meng Shao Fei is very different from who Jake is, which made learning the character very fun.

4. He really wanted a role with a lot of lines. And then Meng Shao Fei happened hahahhhh.

5. He wants to act as a lawyer because he likes debating lmao.

6. Most memorable class when he studied acting: Mask work because it's the most removed from what he knows as an actor. (I did a class on mask work before so i understand what Jake means.)

7. He has a list of 12 things to do when he receives his script. Okay intense DEDICATION.

8. Everyone's just begging him to sing lmao. Even a nursery rhyme but our boy would not budge..

9. Most insane thing he has done for a gig. Jake went out for a talk on diving in a skiing store in May last year. Fell in love, applied for a class, got his role as a diver soon after. The show is coming this summer~~

10. JAKE IS A CERTIFIED DIVER WHO GOT HIS LICENCE IN 2 DAYS EVEN THOUGH IT WAS A 3 DAY CLASS because the typhoon was arriving. Amazing.

11. Being an actor is fun because he gets exposed to different kinds of roles that does all kinds of things you usually wouldn't get to experience. This is also the most challenging thing.

12. He lounged on his sofa recently and watched the Irishman twice.

13. Bought the biggest tv so he can get as close as possible to a trip to the cinema. This is a man after my heart. Jk he already has it.

14. HIGHLY REQUESTED AS A DJ NOW.

15. Biggest obstacle thus far: A director went to Jake and said that he wished Jake never studied acting. Jake agrees with the notion and says what he studied does limits him so he's trying to balance his training and being open minded. (I FEEL THIS as a once actor lmao)

16. Will he try theatre? Absolutely because that's where he started his journey at.

17. His interest: Watching movies. And then he laughs and says it's his entire life. (I-)

18. He acts out scenes that he likes randomly. E.g. while waiting for his breakfast at his breakfast shop.

19. He has breakfast there everyday AND almost says where the shop is. I WANT TO KNOW.

20. No more Oscar predictions for him because he got it wrong 2 years in a row. I will personally start a petition that he makes this a yearly tradition OK.

(I wrote down all the movies he talked about hahaha........)

21. Movie that inspired him: Girlfriend Boyfriend. It was the movie that showed him movies can be about human emotions and kickstarted his fascination with movie exploration. Yep, he has my heart.

22. Jake used to have a column on film on a website!!!!!!!!! I WOULD PAY TO SEE THIS but but website is gone and I am sad and he says he won't do it again and that makes me even sadder.

23. He watched 19 films to prepare for Oscars.... I am ashamed to call myself a film buff.

24. He doesn't want to get married anymore after watching Marriage Story HAHA

25. If there were to be a sequel to Trapped, HE WILL TAKE IT because he feels that there is still a lot to Meng Shao Fei that hasn't been explored. AGREED. ABSOLUTELY.

26. Played mahjong and watched a lot of movies for Chinese New Year lol predictable

27. He recommends YET another movie: Suk Suk.

28. Dou-Hao broadcast~

29. Thanks everyone for supporting and listening to the broadcast.

30. Last refusal to sing and says maybe he'll get a role with singing and we will get to hear him then. Goddamnit.

I'M DONE. I had to summarise this because I really like what Jake says. And lmao a 30min broadcast. I have 30 points. 1 point for every minute. Great summary.

#jake hsu #history3: trapped #meng shao fei #history 3: 圈套 #i love listening to him talking about films #i watch the same kind of films as him help #xu junhao #urgh jake #i cant #ALSO YES MORE TRAPPED #MORE SHAO FEI #MORE JAKE

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fanfictrashdump · 4 years ago

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Queening a Pawn, 17

((Y’all know the drill. I was supposed to be doing something productive in my life and I wrote this trash, instead))

Summary: During the Time Heist, Loki stole the Tesseract and escaped. He did not expect, however, to be pulled through a Time Loop that delivered him to a Midgard more than a decade older, wiser, and bitterer. Having just lived through his unsuccessful attack in New York, Loki must learn to live in Midgard after the defeat of Thanos (post-Endgame). The question is, who is Loki without a quest for a throne or total domination?

Pairings: Loki x OC

"–out came the sun and dried up all the rain and the itsy, bitsy spider went up the spout, again."

Delilah grinned from ear to ear as she spied into the classroom where the handful of four year-olds were huddled into while their parents were at work. When she was first informed that Loki had volunteered to take the afternoon shift for the pre-school kids, she had feared the worst.

On the best of days, Loki's patience lasted about as long as it took him to drain a full cup of coffee. On others, just about as long as it took his heart to beat. When it came to the imps, as he called them, his tolerance for half-hour stories that went nowhere and non-stop renditions of nursery rhymes was utterly boundless. And so it became that every now and then, when her day was going awful and she needed a pick-me-up, Delilah peeked around the doorway to watch him interact with the kids.

Today, he was chasing after a boy that was covered, head to toe, in finger paint while another child trailed behind singing Itsy Bitsy Spider on a loop. The Asgardian Prince snatched the boy up just before he clambered onto the pristine, white armchair in the corner, ignoring the fact that, he too, was now covered in cheap water-based paint.

With a lazy half-smile, he deposited the boy into one of the seats at the art table, where three other kids were sitting, doing their crafts before snapping his fingers and ridding them both of their colorful mess. Before retreating, he ruffled the boy's hair with a chuckle and immediately took a knee in front of the child trailing him.

"Yes, Aria. You have my undivided attention," he assured and the child repeated her song, seemingly satisfied when he smiled and applauded her at the end as she turned tail and went off to do something else. "Tidy up and go wash your hands. We're having snacks in ten." There was a chorus of acknowledgement around him that made Lilah sigh and smile delightedly at the extra beats her heart skipped. As if sensing the fondness, Loki did a double-take at the door, trying to smother a smile as he skirted towards the door with his hands clasped behind his back. "Wasn't aware I was to be under scrutiny today."

"We like to keep inspections a surprise. Make sure the rules are being followed at all times," Delilah responded with a feigned severity.

"And, is my performance satisfactory?" He leaned against the wall beside her, choosing to cross his arms over his chest, seemingly so he could watch the kids while also flirt. It was never to be said that Loki wasn't good at multitasking.

"Well, there is the small matter of how the child became utterly covered in paint, but I suppose you're passable."

The unspoken challenge drew a wolfish grin from his lips. "Will there be an opportunity for me to prove myself later? I can assure you that I can be more than passable."

"There are literal children here–"

"And I have said nothing untoward. Have I, Miss Delilah?" He pushed away from the wall with a grace that was unfair of such a tall person and turned towards Delilah to bow slightly, fist over heart. "I must feed the children before they riot. See you later?" With a dazed grin still on her face, she nodded and quietly slipped backward into the hallway to walk back to her office.

The grin, however, fell off her face when she opened her door to find Thor frowning at her desk. "I was having such a good day, too," she complained under her breath before plopping down in her chair. "I know I'll regret asking, but why are you so sulky?"

"Nothing. Just mentally preparing myself for the answer to my question: how is my brother doing?"

Delilah furrowed her brow, confused. "Loki? He's doing great. I just left his class he was giving the kids snacks."

"I just wanted to offer my services, should there be any need to–"

"I'm going to stop you right there…" Delilah leaned forward, leaning her face into her hand and sighed. "Last week he learned every child's favorite color and made them each a snowflake that never melts in that color. I think we're fine," she finished in a mock whisper. "I don't want to say this, but you look the littlest bit disappointed that your brother hasn't fucked up."

Thor sighed, shoulders slumped. "It's not that I am disappointed at his current success–"

"You're disappointed you voted to keep him imprisoned. To be fair Cap and Sam voted with you. It wasn't exactly an unpopular opinion, bud."

"But he is my brother."

"He also tried to, you know, take over the world."

"You trusted him."

Delilah gave him a tight-lipped smile. "No. I hoped I could." She chuckled, shaking her head absently. "You know, when Loki taught me how to play chess, there was one thing he said that always stuck with me. I remember him setting the board and staring at me over the pieces. The crux of the matter is this: you can learn the rules and hope that I'll respect them, you can distract me and hope I don't catch on, or you can interest me, and that, pet, is where the game really is," she finished, perfectly imitating his purposeful pronunciation. "A whole new world with a decade full of new things to discover– who wouldn't behave for that? It was practically Loki's wet dream."

Thor made a face at the turn of phrase that did nothing to resolve his already pinched expression. "I wish I were that confident of his behavior."

"I'm not. That's the whole point. Loki will mess up–he's allowed to mess up. He works so hard when he doesn't assume you're waiting for him to fail." She chuckled. "And he's good at his job– great at setting examples. None of the kids are afraid of trying new things because they know they are entirely free to fail."

"Failure is not something to strive for."

"It's better than hiding in the back of a ship with Quill and Rocket," she snapped back and Thor showed surprise at the retort. "Don't dish it out if you can't take it."

"I am performing a duty for the Universe."

"It didn't start out that way, though, did it?" She pressed, single eyebrow raised and the god of thunder shifted uncomfortably. "Bottom line is that your brother is actually an astounding person. You should meet him sometime."

Amidst tense silence and a staring contest, the doorway was filled by the devil, himself, who looked between his brother and his lover with a small notch forming between his brows. "I can sense I am already in trouble. Consider me well and thoroughly lectured, brother dearest," he said to Thor, not bothering for a response before turning to Delilah. "It seems that Byron has thrown up his snack because he insisted on running a lap around the room right after eating. His parents are awful hypochondriacs– do I need to tell them?"

"Yes, but preface with the running and end with the fact that the rest of the kids are fine."

"Excellent. Oh, and Bruce was looking for you. He said he'd be in his lab." With a flirty wink, the clone disappeared from the doorway, leaving Thor and Delilah back in awkward silence.

Delilah smiled quietly, hands folded together upon the desk, while Thor decided if he was going to accept defeat graciously or not. "Was there anything else on your mind, Thor?" She asked when he didn't say anything.

"How… how have you done this?" He asked, heaving a great sigh. "It's like there's a different person occupying his body."

"The really sad part is that there isn't. That's just Loki, except we didn't give him a goddamn chance the first time around."

Thor frowned, looking down at his boots. "You love him."

"Of course I do. How can I not?" Lilah sniffled, scrubbing at her eyes with frustration at the tears that prickled the corners of her eyes. "He's a beautiful creature who thinks he's a monster all because Asgard failed him. They failed him, and you know it."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me. You take it up with him," she retorted, harshly. "Now, get out of my office." Thor merely nodded before vacating his seat, and disappearing out the doorway. When he was out of sight, she drew a deep breath, wiping at her eyes and anxiously ruffling her hair. "Stop hiding. I know you're there."

The illusion melted away and from thin air, Loki appeared looking surprisingly sheepish. "I thought you hadn't spotted me." Delilah gave him a look and he raised his hands defensively. "I am aware I should know better." He smiled, taking long steps to close the distance between them before bending to kiss her crown. "Stop fretting over me, darling girl."

"Someone's got to do it. It's not like you fret over yourself!"

"My love, I don't care what Thor thinks. Or the Valkyrie, or anyone in these blasted nine," he argued, carding his fingers through her short hair. "Only you. And if I please you, even if unworthy, I am happy." He kissed her forehead and sighed. "Just you… and that spoiled cat of yours."

"Lilah, do you happen to–" Thor's voice boomed as he crossed back into her office, stopping mid-step at finding Loki with an arm around her slight frame, looking content and soft. "Oh... Brother, do you have a moment…?"

Loki cut his eyes down at Delilah, who shrugged noncommital. "Certainly, Thor." Smiling warmly, he bent once more, pressing a lingering kiss on her forehead and brushing his fingers on her cheek as he straightened. "I adore you, my love," he whispered gently. "I'll find you for dinner, alright?"

Loki followed Thor quietly, hands clasped behind his back. The god of thunder looked conflicted and Loki knew better than to interrupt the man when he was on the verge of emotions stronger than silly giddiness. The hulking blonde stopped just short of the in-house bar, sucking in a deep breath before meeting his blue eyes to his green.

Thor steeled his resolve. "Loki–"

"There's no need, brother. No need to dwell on the past."

The older brother furrowed his brow. "She has done you good. I would have thought you'd relish the idea of having me grovel for forgiveness."

"I just spent eight hours dissolving quarrels because one child stared at another for too long. Being petty for the sake of it is highly overrated," he offered, leaning against the corridor wall with a leg propped up on the surface.

Thor chuckled, nodding absently. "You always did have exceptional patience."

"Yes, you've trained me well in that regard." Loki offered his brother a lopsided smirk in response. "Come. Let's have a drink. I've been on a steady diet of apple juice and mandarin oranges all week."

#Loki #Loki MCU #Loki fanfic #MCU #MCU fanfic #MCU fanfiction #Loki x oc #Loki x ofc #alternate timeline #time heist #fix it #Queening a Pawn

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etraytin · 4 years ago

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Quarantine, Day 102

June 21

It definitely feels like the longest day of the year, I'll give it that much! The sun didn't go down for basically ever, even here on the east coast, and the kiddo and I were able to go on a walk outdoors that didn't end till 8pm. (And even then it was only because my very out of shape legs were about to fall off.) It was Father's Day too, so it was a day full of feelings, some good feelings and some sad feelings, and also full of food, all of it good. It looks like it might be a long evening too, as the kiddo learns the folly of pointing a desk fan directly at one's face while going to bed, congestionwise.

I am very lucky to be surrounded by good fathers and father figures in my life. I totally understand and feel for anybody who has complicated feelings about fathers and Father's Day, but for me it has always been a day of celebration and remembrance. My paternal grandfather died when I was very young, only four or five years old. My memories of him are scattered and at least partially informed by the videos I've seen of us together and the stories I have been told, but I know that he loved me and was charmed by the way I picked up nursery rhymes and short poems by memory. My memories of him are vague feelings of warm affection and security. My maternal grandfather lived until I was in college, so I had a whole childhood with him. He and my grandmother were rockhounds who would drive out west and up into Canada to collect agates and amethysts and geodes, then cut and polish them in the basement workshop. He taught me how to use all his fascinating polishing machines to turn dull ovals of rock into beautiful pendants and belt buckles, and how to use agate sticks and slices to make rock butterflies. He was a quiet man who spent decades as an electrician, built his own home after the war, and could fix just about anything that went wrong with anything. I was devastated when he died, and looking back I wish that I had spent so much more time in his workshop and learning things from him.

My father was an attorney for my whole childhood, and I always wanted to be like him. He was in practice with my grandfather, who'd started a small firm, and took it over when he died. When I was a kid I would go to his office after school or on weekends, when he was working and my mom was typing for him and there was nowhere else to park me and my little sister. I would earn money by doing small office chores like making copies, or amuse myself by going through the receptionist's desk drawers in a way I realize now was probably extremely annoying. He worked a lot but he also took at least a week every year for us to go on a beach vacation where he only called the office once a day, and he spent a lot of evenings and weekends at activities or concerts or debate tournaments or basketball games. He was always around, and he always took care of us. He is still that way, even from hundreds of miles away. We tease him about it, but we still let him watch us on Life360 so he can call us if our cell phone batteries get too low. Over the years our ideologies have become wildly divergent politically, and we have had some big arguments about it, but he is still one of the very best men I know (which is why I find some of his voting behavior so baffling!). I learned a lot about what it means to be a good person and a good citizen from my dad.

I talk about my husband a lot on here already, so anybody who's been following the journal probably knows a lot about what he's like. We weren't exactly prepared to be parents when the kiddo came along; he was in graduate school, I was job hunting, and a doctor had told me I was almost certainly infertile. We were very scared, him even more than me, but he rose to the occasion without even a bobble. He's been right in the mix on childrearing since day one, the sort of dad who never views his share of parenting as "babysitting." He took over bedtimes when the kiddo was very small, because it gave them time together during days when he had to be gone all day and some evenings. They go off on weekend adventures to parks and museums, both to have guy time and to give me a break as well. My son is physically his spitting image, and I hope he grows up to be very like his dad. And of course my husband was raised by a very good man too, and it hurts that he is not here on this first Father's Day, but he did a really good job as a dad and he had a long, good life. I have been very lucky with all these dads in my life.

We celebrated today by giving my husband breakfast in bed, as is traditional. The kiddo made him a card and we got dinner takeout from his choice of restaurant. Typically we do not buy each other gifts on Mothers and Fathers Day but rather allow one another to buy something we want, a luxury since money is usually pretty scarce. I called my dad so the kiddo and I could sing Happy Father's Day (like Happy Birthday, but different), and check in on him. I wrote him a poem that turned into free verse and veered close to prose in a few places, but he liked it.

This entry is getting long and I did not actually talk much about my day, but ah well. I didn't do that much, besides Father's Day stuff and going on the walk. I'm going to try and walk every day, not too long at first, but just enough that my body stops feeling like it's rusting into a stationary position. It's pretty nice to walk around here, there's a lot of grassy space in our complex, and a large pond with fish and birds and turtles. Today the kiddo and I saw a mama duck and five ducklings, very exciting! If I'm feeling ambitious, I can go into the next door townhouse complex and walk around the buildings and along the edge of the wooded area all the way back home. I enjoy doing it, but at the same time I feel weird knowing that if I were not a white woman, this might well not be a thing that I could safely do. I don't know what to do about that except donate money and vote and remind myself to be aware of the privilege I have so that I use it for good and not bad. It doesn't seem like enough.

(Edit and note to self: shift-enter does not eliminate the double carriage return in a post, it simply posts before you have finished editing. Whoops.)

#quarantine #father's day

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transcendence-au · 5 years ago

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The Manor of Alcor (10/10)

Also on ff.net and AO3

The police and ambulance came an hour later. After intensive questioning, they had to spend the remainder of the day and night at the hospital. Or at least Orrie and Mr. Goodman had to. Dipper (unsurprisingly, Orrie thought to himself with a tiny snort) didn’t have any injuries whatsoever to need a room, and Belle’s were mild enough that the doctors let her leave the same evening after thorough treatment. So it was just him and Mr. Goodman who would have to stay behind. For Orrie it was to heal his broken arm. He’d be continued to be looked after until his parents arrived the next morning. Mr. Goodman, on the other hand, was quite old, so the staff wanted to make certain he was fit enough before discharging him.

Orrie let out a tired sigh, staring at his arm. He was so glad magic technology was becoming more widely used in hospitals; injuries and broken bones could heal nearly twice as fast than they could normally. But the magitech cast had to be worn at all times, and so it was a bit difficult trying to fall asleep with it on and its constant low humming.

He leaned back, trying to get comfortable on the hospital bed. He stared out the window. The moon and stars were remarkably bright tonight; Orrie wondered if Belle and Dipper were looking at them now. He wondered how they were coping. Was this normal for them? Maybe– they did speak a lot about their earlier adventures before. But they had been just as scared as he was confronting the cultists, just as pained and outraged to see innocents die. Orrie choked momentarily thinking about Flynn. He…he never wanted to go through something like that ever again.

A knock on the door disturbed him from his darkening thoughts. “Do you need anything for the night?” the nurse asked with a smile. Orrie shook his head.

“No thank you. I’m good.”

“Alright. Will the cast make it hard for you to get some rest?”

“Um…yeah, actually.” She nodded understandingly, turning to the tablet in her hand.

“This should help. We understand these devices can be quite noisy, so they have built in therapeutic charms to ease with sleeping.” She drew some sort of design on the tablet, which activated the cast into glowing a soft green. Orrie could feel the calming effects immediately. “Better?” “Much.” She bade him goodnight, and Orrie soon after drifted into blissful slumber.

After a morning breakfast and one final check-up, Orrie found himself sitting in the front lobby. He felt self-conscious of the fact he was a boy with a broken arm sitting by himself in a surprisingly busy lobby. Correction: a teenager with a broken arm sitting by himself. Fortunately, most of the people passing were nurses and doctors coming in for their morning shift and not patients in dire need, but he could still feel their curious glances toward him. He kept his eyes averted, staring as best he could out the giant window panel.

The seat cushion sank a bit as someone sat beside him. Orrie looked up. “Mr. Goodman. How are you feeling?”

“Oh, I’ll be fine,” the old man answered, resting his arms in his lap. Orrie felt the edges of his lips twitch, but he couldn’t bring himself to give a genial smile. They sat in silence. “…And you?” Mr. Goodman asked eventually. Orrie jerked, caught off guard since he thought the conversation had stopped.

“Uh, fine. Just…just waiting for my parents.” He leaned back on one arm to make it look like he was totally indifferent about waiting for them, not at all like he was feeling awkward being around the man. Not that Mr. Goodman was a bad person—at least, Orrie was pretty sure about that; Terry had been holding him hostage as well—but…what do you say to the person who just lost his business in a single night? What do you say to the person who, through no ill intent whatsoever, nearly caused you to die and did get several others killed? What do you say to—

“I don’t think Neil ever intended one of his descendants to experience the horrors he had.” Orrie looked up.

“What?”

Mr. Goodman gave him a small, sad smile. “Neil Gogh. My ancestor. I don’t think he ever wanted this to happen.” He stared at his hands. “He realized too late after killing his dear friends what absolute power can do to the mind and soul. It corrupts you, twists you to the point that you might as well be a different person entirely. They were on the verge of capturing one of the most powerful entities in existence and make him bend to their will. In the end he gained no power, lost all his closest allies, and had to go into hiding just to remain free.”

Mr. Goodman exhaled deeply. “I think it was the news report that was the final nail on the coffin for him. To read in full detail the murders of his friends, killed by his own selfish doings. He settled down in a large city miles away. He adopted a new identity. He tried to live the rest of his life as a generous, law-abiding citizen. He used all the powers and knowledge he had to bring happiness instead of heartache to others. He wrote all of this down in his journal, a journal that’s been passed down as a dark heirloom for many generations. I suppose he was trying to atone for his sins.” Orrie let his gaze fall, staring at the floor. He could hear Mr. Goodman’s voice tighten as he continued. “He died believing himself wholly unrepentable. But his newfound desire to help others was passed on to his children, and his children’s children, and all the generations after. I too inherited that desire. So I wanted to reopen the manor to the public. Of course, the murder mystery would be the main draw, but I wished to hold other events and activities to enjoy. Soon the mansion that had housed tragedy and betrayal so long ago became a mansion full of fun and creating happy memories for people of all walks of life. And for years I was living in a dream come true.”

He brought his hands up, gingerly wiping the tears from his eyes before they could fall. “Susie…Ms. Wheatly…was a dear friend of mine. Sue and I met many years ago, and she supported me from the very beginning, back when opening the family home to the public was just an inkling of an idea. It was all her idea to use nursery rhymes as hints, you know. Made all of them herself.” Mr. Goodman sniffled. Before he realized what he was doing, Orrie patted the old man on the shoulder.

“I’m…I’m so sorry for your loss.” Mr. Goodman sniffed again.

“It’s okay, Orrie. I accept what has happened. And we’ll recover from it one day.” Orrie didn’t miss his use of the inclusive term. But he couldn’t speak of the matter for long; Orrie’s parents had arrived and hurried quickly to the receptionist’s desk. “Those are your folks?”

“Yes.” He stood. He paused. He looked back. “What about you? Do you have anyone to pick you up?”

“I’ll be fine,” Mr. Goodman said, smiling softly. “My business won’t, though. I’m shutting down the Manor of Alcor once I get home. Too much death has transpired inside it. Maybe I’ll sell it after I remove all the runes lacing it, or perhaps I’ll have it demolished. Maybe I’ll start another attraction elsewhere. Who knows what the future holds.” He stood up himself, patting Orrie gently on the shoulder. “Goodbye Orrie, and be safe. And tell your folks all the expenses were paid for and then some. Half a million some. It’s the least I can do.”

Orrie couldn’t reply right away. “Thank you, Mr. Goodman,” he at last said. “And good luck with everything. Take care.” The old man shook his hand briefly before heading out the front doors. Orrie watched him leave as his parents sprinted over to him and nearly crushed him in their tight, protective embraces.

Orrie stared at the blank plaster that was his bedroom ceiling. He’d been doing that a lot the last two weeks since he returned home from the hospital. Just lie on his bed and stare into space, contemplating. He hadn’t touched his sketchbook in ages. He didn’t want to. Not so much because of what it reminded him of (as if he could ever forget that anyway) but more so because he didn’t wish to upset his parents even further. For them to see their son still interested in the demon who caused all this, albeit inadvertently? They’d probably go into a panic thinking he was possessed or brainwashed or something.

They were being a bit too overprotective, though, he long since realized. Walking with him practically everywhere he went except to school, texting him every thirty minutes whenever he was away to see if he was fine, peeking into his room when they thought he wouldn’t notice. Orrie sighed. He loved his parents. But no matter how often he told them he was alright, they’d just nod their heads as if they understood and put on a fake smile that clearly said they weren’t listening. Perhaps once the cast was finally removed they’d see he was fine and give him his space.

Orrie inhaled then exhaled deeply before rolling onto his side. His eyes settled on the sketchbook resting on his dresser. He looked away, convincing himself that he didn’t need to worry about them. That they were alright. That they probably weren’t even thinking of him as often as he was of them. His gaze returned to the book. Yeah, he hadn’t been very good at lying to himself lately. Why shouldn’t he make sure everything was fine with the Sterlings? They were his friends now. His parents’ worry for him could wait.

Quietly, Orrie slipped off the bed and crept toward his bedroom door. It was very late at night; he could hear his father’s soft snores coming from down the hall. Still, to be safe, he locked his door so no one could intrude. He was sorely underprepared what with this being a last-minute idea, but maybe an exception could be made. And it wouldn’t be for long anyway. Orrie walked over to his sketchbook and tore out a blank page, placing it on the floor. Grabbing a marker, he expertly drew the summoning circle on the paper, referencing his notes multiple times to make certain nothing was amiss. He then went to his backpack and pulled out the sympathy chocolate bar one of his teachers at school gave him after his first day back from the hospital and placed it just outside the circle. Taking a shuddering breath to calm himself, he took out a tiny switchblade and cut thinly across his finger, letting a few bloody drops fall onto the circle.

He whispered the incantation quietly but clearly.

The lights in his room flickered before taking on an unearthly bright blue shade. Smoke unfurled from the center of the circle, expanding rapidly until it took the shape of a certain demon floating cross-legged above it, not even bothering to contain himself within its small circumference. His gaze was initially on the paper, disdain obvious as he leered at the crude method of summoning, lack of candles, and meager offering. But when he looked up and spotted who his summoner was, his contempt shifted quickly into mild disbelief.

“Orrie?” The boy, however, said nothing. Instead, he reactively backed away closer to his door, fear flashing in his eyes at the sight of the deceptively young adult human male. The demon blinked before realizing the problem. “Oh, right. How’s this?” In an instant, Alcor regressed in apparent age, being now the even younger and much more familiar Dipper Sterling…clothes and demonic features notwithstanding. Orrie relaxed a bit.

“Hey there, uh…” He probably should have figured out what to call him before summoning him. “Di…Alcor?”

“Is there anyone who can eavesdrop?” Alcor asked. Orrie shook his head. “Then call me Dipper.”

A small, internal sigh. “Hey Dipper. It’s been a while. I just, um, I just wanted to know how you and Belle were doing.” He played with his fingers nervously. Even if this was his friend, this was still his first time alone with a demon, particularly one known for being unpredictable. Without his sister to keep him in check, what was Dipper really like? Would he find this summons a complete waste of his time?

Dipper paused for a brief second. “That’s it? You just want to know how we’re doing?” He stared deeper at Orrie. “Is that really all?”

The boy shuddered slightly under the intense gaze, but he refused to look away from the golden irises. “Yes. I…” Dare he admit it? “I really do wonder how you’re both doing. Are you okay? Is Belle? She did get hurt even though the doctors let her go that same day. I know you’ve been through danger like that before, but you’re still kids. Well, Belle is, and you’re acting like one. Wait, don’t take that the wrong way! I just—” He took a deep breath. “I was worried about you guys. But since I didn’t hear anything from you I just assumed you were doing well. And had moved on. But I just needed to be sure, and so…” He gestured vaguely to the lame ritual preparations.

Dipper chuckled. “So you decided to summon me just to check up on us?” His eyes seemed to brighten as he looked around the room once more. “You do know it’s not a good idea to summon the most dangerous demon known on a whim, right?” Orrie smiled sheepishly, remembering.

“I’m sorry. I only wanted to make sure, even if you forgot about me.”

“Forgot?” Dipper was quick to question, much to Orrie’s surprise. “Why would we forget about you? You’re our friend, Orrie. At least I thought we were.”

“We are! I mean, we are, right? I want to be. You, me, Belle– I didn’t think everything we’d done would lead to nothing between us. But like I said, when I didn’t hear anything from you I thought you’d gotten over everything. And it’s not like I didn’t try to call you or contact you, but I couldn’t find your numbers or anything.” “Well, we don’t exactly put that information out in the open for just anyone to find,” smirked Dipper. “But I see how you came to this decision. I have no excuse for not being able to contact you; Belle wanted to check up on you right after we came home from the hospital, but I convinced her to give you your space. I figured sooner or later you’d come around to telling us you were fine.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The days passed, and you never did. I popped in every once in a while to see you myself. But when I saw you actively keeping your distance from your sketchbook, I assumed you wanted nothing more to do with us.”

Orrie’s eyes widened at the admission. “What? No, I was keeping my distance so I wouldn’t worry mom and dad. I didn’t think…oh wow, this has been a huge misunderstanding.” He laughed, careful to keep his volume controlled and not loud enough to wake his parents. He looked at Dipper, smile still plastered on his face. “I’m fine. My arm is healing well; I’ll get the cast off in about a week. And my parents have me going to counseling, which is going alright. I haven’t had nearly as many nightmares since starting at least. And we donated most of the prize money I got to charity; only a small bit we’re keeping for my college savings and the therapy.”

Dipper nodded. “That’s good. Belle and I are doing just fine, and she’ll be excited to hear you’re doing well too. We didn’t need the money either, so we gave it to some family friends of ours. Our lives have pretty much gotten back to normal, or what passes as normal for us. Despite how exciting as our lives can get, this isn’t exactly something that happens every other Tuesday. We really were worried about you.” To hear that from the demon in person made Orrie speechless for a moment.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, looking down. After a brief moment he looked back up, meeting Dipper’s gaze again, a spark of hope in his eyes. “So summer vacation is about to start, and I was wondering, if you and Belle had nothing better to do, we could…hang out? Catch up on things? Solve our own, less dangerous mysteries? Maybe even at Gravity Falls? My parents have kinda been planning a trip there for ages now. And it’d be cool if we had some people who knew the place well enough to give us a tour.” He gave the demon his best winning smile.

Dipper only laughed at the silent plea. “We’ll see. Then again, what better way is there to spend a summer holiday than with friends, right?”

#submission

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avicebro · 6 years ago

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rate... casters then? if you haven't done it yet?

one two three WIFE hey honey i love you so much i think about you constantly you are the best. have you at 100 10/10/10 and bond level 10 now so you’re basically perfect now, just gotta max fou you. love your np charge skill. love your myths.. you’re good. i love you so much. i love you and kuzuki so much. i just want you guys to be happy and i just want to make you happy let me just.. treat you thank you for carrying me all the time MWUAh infinity/10

I personally like him a lot but I know some people find him uncomfortable which is totally understandable. Still.. haven’t finished working on him in FGO I’m sorry lol. Love his relationship with both Prelati and Ryuunosuke and can’t wait for him to meet his bfs again. so like 8/10? yeah

HEY HANS. man you could have been.. so much better. I know that it’s not your fault though and I have nothing against you. I just… love the idea that he’s defined by what people thought he was like based off of what he wrote about. Wish they would actually reference the bisexuality cause heyo it’s important to his stories /dab. Stop asking for alcohol you’re like 12. Wish he like.. actually acted like how he did in real life sometimes tho lol. Kiara fuckers don’t interact. 10/10 love him.

HEY WILL. one of the best parts of apocrypha, hands down, just wish he was in more of it. shave your mustache off though it creeps me out. ever since i learned you share va’s with tesla i can’t think. love how you have a buster up which ties with amakusa and semiramis. love you so much, sorry for taking so long to level you up lol. it looks like you’re having fun which is what matters. i’ll take you to shinjuku for drinks or something. nice thighs please step on me. 10/10 would die for.

ship you with paracelsus. whenever you dress up it’s kind of illegal? just kind of? thought you would do more in london but alas. love art where you and paracelsus adopt jack and teach her about the fun ways of murder. your hair is an aesthetic. mephi is cute guys. make paramephi art im begging you 7/10

7/10 please stop haunting me and my dreams. who said you could be that hot.

you came home for new years! which was nice! i appreciate it a lot! i use you a lot and i’m sorry you’re just very useful. sorry waver i like el melloi more. long haired men are hot, it’s been clinically tested. wanna run my hands through your hair while you play dark souls. i’m not thirsty for you i support you in your transition and i hope you and your like 8 blond kids are having a fun time saving the world and dismantling the grail or whatever. 8/10

7/10 best cu hands down don’t @ me. like him in fuyuki. hope he comes back soon? also ugh when is he gonna get that animation update fgo? anytime soon? please? i think your final art is gorgeous by the by. one of the first servants i finished.

probably her best outfit let’s be real here. good girl. nothing bad to say here she’s a great daughter and i love her in all forms. 9/10

I think you were a ticket? I think? Ugh 5/10 I appreciate you coming home in all forms, I really do Tamo, ugh, I’m glad you like me so much but now I’m worried that Vicci will come home and I don’t know how to feel about that one. Pairs really well with my Medeas, I had you and Medea Lily stall for like, a whole bunch of fucking turns which made me wanna kms but also proved how well you two can stall so good job.

HELLO. I’m so sorry I didn’t use my free four star on you and instead went for the thirsty choice I’m sorry but thank you so much for coming home regardless for new years MWUAH. currently grailed to 98. I’m working on your skills next honey just please be patient. All of her lines about not liking being touched scare me and I want to fight anyone who does anything dirty with you EVEr. I think your art is gorgeous and you’re so pretty and I want to make sure you’re never sad again. Love art where you have been adopted by Hektor. I’ll beat up Jason for you. infinity/10

ANother good girl. Came home recently and three times at that! Thank you for that Nursery Rhyme. You’re.. very cute. I love how you’d expect her to be this like, shy, silent girl but nOPE she’s a critting, curious, buster machine and she works so well with the other authors good job NR. I can’t say I’d beat up Hans for you but we can certainly give him a stern talking to. Love writing her the most out of the authors honestly. Your LE episodes killed me. When are you gonna be in Extella. 10/10

His coat is made out of husband material. Very pretty. I want to braid your hair and be your assistant. One of the first servants that I got that I was like, okay I know nothing about you but you’re hot so I love you lol. His voice is very soothing. Love you with Mephi but the art with Hektor and Avi is also very cute. When I need to draw hair I draw you. Love you I’ll draw you more. 10/10

I’m sorry I know very little about you I’m sorry. I think your human form is very hot though. I have someone who has you at level 100 and they’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever seen TBQH. You’re cute in the summer race, Babbage sensei. Also dailybabbage is still the best daily blog don’t @ me 5/10

You also came home recently! Thanks! I actually like her a lot just hate her artist and her archer version. Wish she was an actual old lady instead of being.. whatever this is lol. Love her relationship with Edison, they seem like if they were two old friends who after their partners died they moved in together with an Indian demigod. Please put on some more clothes. Please take her away from her artist. Oh and I’ll beat up Sherlock for you. 7/10

You came home a very long time ago and I’m sorry you’ve been stuck at like.. 54 for a long time lol. I associate you with someone though. I really like Tedison but I never talk about it. I just assume all Americans are like this honestly. All hail our presi-king. hey fgo you wanna add bell so they can be friends instead of just constantly hinting at it? huh? anyways you’re good i just need to finish leveling you up. 6/10

gold border cause you’re level 90 in na. i have a lot of problems with you but i’m not the right person to talk about it. you’re still so bad in terms of racist designs i’m sorry. wish they had done you better. pat pat. 6-10/10 cause i’m conflicted honestly. your personality isn’t bad but like……….. the design… and the fact that they turned you into this like shaman when you just weren’t… and the fact that you didn’t like pictures being taken and i’m sorry geronimo that they did this to you you don’t deserve it

i wasn’t playing fgo when you arrived so please can i have a rerun? can i please have a rerun? i want iri. good mom. i want her to adopt caren and angra and be the ‘cool mom’. i’d like a hug please. thanks mom. 7/10

i associate you with ip so you’re good. i wish your final art was more interesting though. ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh your event is good too. love your relationship with li shuwen. i kinda forget all the time that you were in the summer race event. WHoops. oh and also you can do your NP on me thanks. 5/10

hey i have you too! sorry you’re at like.. level 41.. i’m sorry i have a lot of casters. nice thighs.. i like your face things as well. ears are cute. hope you’re having fun with your gf. wish you would work better as a catalyst for your gf tho lol. keep it up im proud of you. also ugh beat up ozy for me thanks. 6/10

10/10 MOM. maybe one day you can be your normal self again. wish that instead of da vinci lily they did it so you went to like a different painting instead but whatever. i’ll kill kirei for you dw

you’re good. i want you to come home so i can have more dumas catalysts tbh. but you’re soft and good and i hope you’re having fun. here take a head pat. 5/10

i’d probably only roll cause then i’d have the complete emiya-einzbern family. but you’re still on thin ice. i’m sorry your event is horrible. i’m sorry your anime is too. here take a head pat. 3/10

you came home recently too! and not even in the dantes/casgil gacha which confused the shit out of me lol. thank you artist for drawing a gil so that we can finally get more gil content cause takeuchi would never. associate you with a lot of people like you’re constantly showing up on my friend’s supp list. you’re good, i think i like you better than your archer version. take a nap. 7/10

5/10 thanks for carrying me you fuck.

PLEASe. PLEase come home. Why did you send Medb twice. I wanted you. You’re the last author I need. Literally all I need is you now. Please. I’m begging you. How much must I give for you to come home? I’m on my knees. I’m sorry Agartha did.. that. I’m sorry people do gross shit to you. I’m sorry for your tag. I’m sorry people say racist and gross things about you. I’m so sorry you have to deal with this shit. Please.. I have your gf. You can be happy here I promise. 100/10

you’re like one of the few summer servants who’s ascensions make sense good job. also like your animations. if you’d come home that would be great more dumas catalysts. 5/10

I think it’s always a good sign when you’re aunt in law comes home twice. I love how they took your name seriously with the bird wings. And I love all the subtle hints to Medea in your design, as well. Circe is by far my favourite part of The Odyssey, so I’m glad she was added. I’m curious to see if they’ll add Odysseus and what she thinks about him 9/10

I don’t have much to say about you I just wish they didn’t just shove a bunch of “vaguely African things” together and call it a day. Your attacks are cool though and I wish you and your husband a good time. Hope you have fun with David, too. 5/10?

another high on my wife list. did not know how much i loved you until i rolled you. i like you and kadoc so i won’t say you’re my wife. love your anniversary art thing. hope you’re having a good day. kinda confused about the whole “i knew i died thing” considering that anastasia became so well known because people weren’t sure if she had died or not.. kinda feels weird in a series about characters being altered by how they were remembered 15/10

gold cause he’s currently 85 in jp. can’t wait to get you to 100 baby love you. didn’t care for you as much in apo but you’re cool now. wish you would be more of a jackass to me though, show me how much you despise humanity you lil shit. multiple arms? good. horns? good. 10/10 great design love you. currently at 8/10/10 why do you need so many bullets for huh? just curious. anyways. infinity/10

you’re good. don’t think you’re like, the best fate protag but you’re good. don’t deserve all the shit you got though lol. here have a head pat. 6/10

you’re only used cause you pair well with dantes. what the fuck is going on in your final art btw. 3/10

gremlin. do not trust. 7/10

oh you know. he’s alright, i guess.

#under a read more cause yk why #we rate classes

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snickerdoodlles · 3 years ago

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for the fic writer ask meme!!! ⏱️, 🤡, and of course🏅

oooooooo thank u friend 👀

⏱ What’s the fic you spent the most time on? (Was it worth it lol)

this is really hard for me to answer 🤔🤔 my writing can get really sporadic, and sometimes I'll ditch a WIP for months on end before circling back to it lol. of my posted stuff, just going by time from the doc being started to it being finished, probably by dawn's early light? written for the BNHA myths zine (*high fives u sadly*), but I wrote like the first third of it a week or two after writers were accepted to the zine, and then when the mods never followed up on shit, it just chilled in my drafts folder until after that mess with the hallowzine broke out and those mods finally started chasing down submissions 😂😂

but if we're going to go by time actually spent on writing something, probably either come here. just by nature of it being multi-chaptered or the patpran old guard AU (i've rewritten that thing so many times aaaaa, may i actually have it ready to post one day lol)

(all of these were worth it tho. by dawn's early light is one of my most ignored stories, but i'm still super pleased with how it came out. and once i get the final chapter of come here./the last scene of the old guard AU done, i'm going to be so excited to post both of those, partially because they're taking me a long time to get where i want them to be)

🤡 What’s the dumbest thing you’ve written?

oh god, im a crack writer, would you like the list alphabetically???

100% the Dumbest Thing i've ever written is a like button love story. like, you know how in facebook messenger, you could make the like buttons RLY BIG if you held down the button? a friend and i would play goofy games with those things, and then i wrote a joke love story between the two buttons. and i think i did actually post that here on a dare, except it was ...2015??? i think???? and i wasn't good about tagging things back then, so i cant find it, which is a shame because that was a gold standard story ngl

now, other stupid shit i've written includes:

3 nursery rhymes for the bald giyuu pdf (a silly free bonus pdf to the giyushino zine):

(art & formatting for both done by @/inigoats)

i wrote a nearly 9k fic of the vld team fighting over pineapple pizza. here's chat noir successfully hooking up marinette with ladybug (aka herself). hawkmoth fights butterflies in this one.

honestly, there's a lot more i can link, but i'm starting to get embarrassed lol. i really wish i could pick a single crack fic to be like "here, this one, this is the dumbest thing i've written" but...i honestly can't pick which ones of these is the dumbest thing i've written. they're all so stupid but in different directions. This even went for back when I was still doodling: here's Cinderella!Darth Vader, here's insurance guy Palpatine getting thrown thru a wall, and here's Obi-wan fighting the galaxy with a pool noodle. i'll spare u the others but...yeah, crack is my lifeblood my friend 😂💦💦

🏅 What is the fic you’re most proud of?

Shining Dishonesty! (a Howl's Moving Castle AU for MSBY from Haikyuu!!) I have a lot of fics I'm really fond of, but I think I really managed to nail her and Studio Ghibli's storytelling vibes in it without retelling either of their stories, and that just means a lot to me as a longtime DWJ fan 🥰

send me a fic ask

#i didnt mEAN for the crack reply to get so long but first i was trying to find the like button love story post #and then i had to try to pick between the others and.... i just couldnt hjfhjfhf #and u guys think ive written crack for bbs #it could be so sooooooo much worse 😂😂#we're not even discussing the crack wips akjdfjkfdjk #im a crack writer!!! i cant help it!!!!!#speaking of HMC AUs when i finish the patpran one of it like. thats going to be my favorite fic. i already know im soooooo excited #im not normal about DWJ im not normal about patpran so merge the two of them and u just get me being insane at my keyboard lol #okay sorry shutting up nowwwwwwwww #thank u for sending this!!! it was fun!!!

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ppgang · 7 years ago

Text

GANG PARADE Haruna Ba Chiin, first interview “I put my life in line and successfully passed”

From 2018/03/12 ~ 18 the agency that manages BiS, BiSH, GANG PARADE and EMPiRE hold a training camp audition. In a harsh environment where everyday someone would be eliminated, marathons every day in the morning, dance examinations, on the final day 03/18 there was a free event on Osaka Castle's concert hall where the announcement of the members who passed took place, and so 2 new members joined GANG PARADE.

One of the successful members was Haruna Ba Chiin, then known as RisoRiso. During the cooking examination she stood out by arranging and decorating after the theme “Jungle”, on the last day for her PR she sang about her complicated family relations to the melody of the nursery rhyme “Mori no Kuma-san” causing a great impact. Haruna, who until now had only encountered negation from the adults. Facing WACK auditions by putting her life on line, this is the first interview with the girl who successfully passed.

Interview: Nishizawa Hiroo Photos: Sotobayashi Kenta

I GOT RUN INTO MY GRANDPA’S CAR

- Haruna-san, what kind of childhood did you have?

Haruna Ba Chiin (under, Haruna): I hated school, I would dash and run away from class, leave home, I wan't a proper human being.

- What was there in school that you hated so much?

Haruna: The teacher was gross. Looking wise to but, it was a really annoying teacher so I hated it, I dashed away during class and ran away to my grandma's house.

- This was around which year? Haruna: The first time I ran away from school was at my 3rd year of elementary school. The 1st and 2nd year I was like floating around, just carrying my legs to school, I was told the way I held my knapsack was gross, I was bullied. That time I thought “the way I hold my knapsack is gross”, I didn't feel anything, only later I would realize that was an insult.

- Even so you kept going to school.

Haruna: I went to school but, I was always at the infirmary. During the upper years I would just go straight to the infirmary. I would talk, sleep, eat and go home.

- Did you learn anything?

Haruna: Archives. But it wasn't fun so I cried.

- That time, what was the most enjoyable thing?

Haruna: Enjoyable thing… Hmm… Going to a flower park during junior high. On my 1st year of junior high I had 2 friends, so the 3 of us went to the flower park. I went to the jet-coaster by myself while the other 2 watched.

- How were those friends like?

Haruna: One had the face like anpanman. The other one had the face like a tanuki.

- (laughs). I really understood the face features but, how was they personality (laughs)?

Haruna: Ah… One of them was really talkative, the other one wouldn't say a word.

- Why did you become friends with the 2 of them?

Haruna: I wonder… Because they talked to me? So we started talking and our houses were close, we would often play in someone's house. We also went to a flower park.

- The flower park memory is strong.

Haruna: Is a memory just strong enough to remember.

- (laughs). You entered junior high, was there any change?

Haruna: The junior high life, it was the worst. I was teased by the teacher and stopped attending school. At school I would just be on my phone and when I was caught I was told “You don't have any merit living” so I got troubled. Also, I joined the wind instrument club but, in the contest if I mistook a note I would be called out by the teacher, “Because of you we didn't passed the contest”, so I quit the club. From there I stopped going to school and started to become a yankee.

- You started to become a yankee?

Haruna: I would go to school with my hair blond or red. I would fight over things, there was a time I got really angry. I got into the school at 8pm went to the class and threw desks and stuff out of the window, wrote bad things about the teacher in a letter and sent it, etc (laughs).

- There was no one you could really trust.

Haruna: There wasn't.

- The 2 friends you talked about earlier, how did it turn out?

Haruna: Since I lost my temper and stopped going to school we didn't talk anymore. Because I didn't go to school there was nothing to talk about.

- By the way how was you relation with your family?

Haruna: Lately we've been friendly but, until a while ago we weren't. Because I ran away from home they got angry at me, they got angry when I went to grandpa and grandma's house. One time I said to grandpa “Give me 80.000 yen”, then I got run into grandpa's car.

- You said that during the audition (laughs). On the last day you sang about your family relations to the melody of “Mori no Kuma-san”, did your family watch the niconama?

Haruna: Seems like they watched some of it. But my grandpa and relatives don't know that I joined GANG PARADE. I told grandma because she was supporting me. Because other people in the family didn't give me OK to become an idol, I didn't tell them. I didn't tell I would participate in the auditions, because it's not a proper household. It has been like that since I was little.

SEEMS LIKE MY GREAT GRANDMA'S GHOST IS HAUNTING BEHIND ME

- Why did you think about applying to WACK auditions?

Haruna: At first I was worried wether I could pass, but I thought “I want to!” so I said it to my mother's older brother and he told me “You can't pass”. I was offended and that lit up a fire so I applied. I thought I would show him wrong.

- You were denied a lot of things from adults just like that, right?

Haruna: Because I didn't go back home for about 5 months I wasn't trusted. I was told they would fill an investigation report, I really didn't had any contact.

- What did you think during those 5 months?

Haruna: What did I think… There was a lot happening that time. I was bored, I hated it, I thought about that, so I came home and became an idol.

- Did you liked idols?

Haruna: Everyone says “I admired OO” or “I love OO” but I wasn't like that at all. I didn't even like being in front of people.

- Among other auditions, why did you decide to apply to WACK?

Haruna: They are people who have influence, even though just a few would be selected among thousand, I thought it would be incredible if I passed it. I didn't want to do the same thing everyone else around me was doing. In a way, I applied because I thought it was nice they did only weird things.

- When applying, there are a lot of people who doubt until the last minute, you didn't had any doubts?

Haruna: I thought “If I send it early Watanabe-san will see it” so I send it several days after the announcement. At first the result would come via e-mail but it never came so I thought I failed and gave up but, when I looked at old e-mails I saw the one saying I passed it.

- Did you have confidence to begin with?

Haruna: Zero. That's why I thought “Really?”. The next phase there was a lot of feedback. Watanabe-san looked at me so I thought “Is he really evaluating me?”. But I got nervous so I kept saying weird things like “I can cook meat and potato stew” (laughs).

- During the camp cooking became a turning point but, are you good at cooking?

Haruna: Because you can finish it without thinking I like cooking. Because my mental goes down easily, I support it with cooking. When I'm cooking I think things like “Let's cut the carrot this big”, so I can finish without thinking about bad stuff. Everyday around 20h I have a mental break so, even if I don't want it a trouble period comes.

- After 20h what happens?

Haruna: I start to hate everything. Even in days that everything went fine, I start to feel embarrassed and everything become pointless. Reversely is like Cinderella. I'm like an always negative girl.

- So to ease that down you cook.

Haruna: I even baked cookies at midnight. While crying. During self-introductions, everyone only says things like “I'm ~~, I came from OO, nice to meet you”. But I thought that Watanabe-san wouldn't look at me unless I said something to stand out, so I said what my ability was. I thought I would fail if I said the same thing as everyone else, I was desperate, I would pass it.

- You wanted to pass?

Haruna: I wanted to pass. I also saw footage of the eliminated candidates. I thought I didn't want to be in the same situation as them. But, I don't think really I'm suitable for an idol. I think I chose an occupation I'm definitely not suited for.

- What is not suited?

Haruna: You are extremely evaluated, right? No matter how much you work hard. You will always be told something. Good things and bad things. I can't help but feel irritated and angry.

- For example, even if someone says a good thing you get irritated?

Haruna: Even if I'm said “You are ~~ so it's good”, I end up thinking “You know only 1% of me”. You know nothing. Look for more things you can't see.

- In this meaning, the all the camp was was an evaluation, right?

Haruna: That's why I couldn't help but hate it. Why do old men I don't know keep telling me things?

- Those small details and feelings, you didn't talk about them with your family?

Haruna: I did say “I want to pass it”. What my mother says usually is right, like she's a witch. When my mother went to a spirit medium seems like she was told “You have this power”. She can even tell when earthquakes will happen. So I was told by mom “I can see your figure on stage, so I think you will succeed”. She's a real witch so I believed it. Before the training camp I would go every day to a shrine, write a wishing picture or draw my luck, I wished everyday for the same things like “I want to pass the audition” “Please let me borrow your strength”. I looked up shrines with good luck and went to those. I wrote the same thing in all shrines.

- Haruna-san believes in the supernatural force?

Haruna: I can also see it, spirits and stuff. That's why I believe it. When I was little, I lived in a worn out house in the middle of the forest but, in the living room there was a white one. In the park playground nearby too, there was one hanging from there. I'm not in danger or get hurt or anything but I can see it. I was told by my mother but, seems like my great grandma's ghost is haunting behind me. My great grandma, she's really strong. Aunt is protecting me.

IS LIKE I'M DIFFERENT FROM THOSE GIRLS, I CAME TO PASS BY PUTTING MY LIFE IN LINE

- Before the camp began you were gathered in the port, how did you feel?

Haruna: When I thought I would leave one week with all those people I didn't know I thought “Impossible!”. The first and second day were really hard. I was told by Watanabe-san “You'll fail”, I didn't want to fail. During the camp it was really hard.

- When the eliminated of the first day were announced, how did you feel?

Haruna: Girls from the same age as me failed but, I thought “Wow… You can really fail”. But I kept only visualizing myself on stage, I didn't even imagined myself going home. When I asked the girls who were eliminated they were like “I want to go home” “I'll just leave”, everyone gave up. It's like I was different from those girls, I came to pass by putting my life in line. It was at a level like if it ends I might as well die. When I saw those girls I thought “You came with such feelings”, I thought as long as I don't give up I'll pass!. Because I kept thinking it I succeeded.

- You risked on the audition to this point.

Haruna: I really felt like I would die if I failed. I didn't want to do anything, it was really like I was sick of living.

- Sick of living even so young.

Haruna: There was really a lot of things! When I had my downfall there are only things I decided not to talk about. Because my emotional was really bad, I thought if I failed I would just jump from the port and swim far far away. It would be really bad if I had failed.

- During the auditions, they were the days you worked the most in your life, right?

Haruna: I worked hard. Because there have been things worse than the audition, I remembered those and was able to work hard. By nature I don't exercise, because I was always around the worst places, I was sad when people passed me during the marathon. But, because I had worse things in the past, compared to that it was really ok.

- Is there any good memory from the training camp?

Haruna: When we built the Jungle. After the training camp ended I talked to Ayuna-C but, if we hadn't made the Jungle we wouldn't be here right now. To make the Jungle wasn't a bad choice.

- Why did the Jungle was born there?

Haruna: When the both of us talked, the “Let's make a jungle!” idea came, Ayuna-C agreed. Ayuna-C said “Let's make a cute jungle” so we bought socks and pompom and made a jungle. The result was really cute. We only built the jungle because of Ayuna-C. If I was alone it wouldn't have been fun. Because Ayuna-C built it with me.

- How did you feel when you came in contact with active members of BiSH, BiS and GANG PARADE?

Haruna: I thought they were pro. Really. Specially Maika-san (Can GP Maika), she's so kind she's fighting for 1st 2nd place of nicest people in mankind. I was surprised by that. I thought wow there's really someone this nice about everything.

- Did you decide earlier that during the last PR you would sing “Mori no Kuma-san”?

Haruna: I didn't decide anything. I thought I should do something. I thought I should sing. I thought everyone would do some performance, but I was the only one who sang. First of all I had the jungle, so I thought I should pledge to the jungle. I think it came to me because I was cornered.

MAYBE THEY WANT ME TO BECOME AN EXPLOSIVE PERSON

- On the last day, you went to Osaka, and got on a stage in front of 3000 people.

Haruna: There was a lot of people I was surprised. But I thought I couldn't trust anyone (laughs). I can't trust people who comment “wwwww” on niconama.

- After the camp what kind of person was Junnosuke-san?

Haruna: I thought he liked to pretend he's a psychopath. Even though he is a good person with great kindness, I thought he liked to have fun in that way. What he thinks is weird but, he's kind, and he can openly express his feelings. I respect him.

- What did you think when it was announced you would join GANPARE?

Haruna: Because I didn't think I would be called, I was surprised. My life actually changed. I felt a new possibility. I can't sing or dance, I'm not naturally positive but they let me join, I thought “I wonder what Watanabe-san is expecting from me?”. Certainly, feels like Watanabe-san is thinking a lot of things.

- You also thought about the meaning of you joining GANPARE.

Haruna: I did. Maybe they want me to become an explosive person. Because during the camp I was always in the lower ranks, they are expecting an explosion from there.

- What's GANPARE's image?

Haruna: They are always chattering. But, there a lot of meaning in that, it's a group with a lot of history.

- Haruna-san, what do you want to do after joining GANPARE?

Haruna: Because there a lot of people with high expectations about GANG PARADE with me and Tsukino Usagi-chan, we talked about how would be nice if our admission had a meaning. Because we were trough the same things, I can talk to Usagi-chan about the hard things during the training camp. I don't want to end just by joining it.

- As Haruna Ba Chiin, what do you want to do?

Haruna: The thing I want to try is to have a cake shop. It's ok if it's after I'm old but, as GANG PARADE I want to stand in a big stage. It will certainly be difficult but, I think I should give my best.

#gang parade #ganinterviews #note: translation without revision

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