#but I have also lost my entire shit and I’m so glad I’m on mute | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonyslove78 · 2 years ago

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I’m done for… @liz-allyn I believe we need to bow down to you as Official Angst Queen. This chapter was the most beautifully written things I’ve read. Your ability to put words down that literally transport us to that moment, I swear it’s like I’m physically there watching it all go down. You’re brilliant.

Now let’s start with the beginning of the chapter. I was crying within the first few sentences. Honey and the entirety of the group begging him to stay with them and come back was heartbreaking. And his inner monologue with Gwen was just… amazing. 💔

But the fact that it was Honey’s presence that brought him to the realization he didn’t want to die. He still had something to live for… and that’s just poetic. ❤️

Honey’s retelling of what happened to get him landed where he was was perfect. I felt every bit of her fear of having lost him. And her realization that she does indeed love him.

I’m so glad Felicia made a stand for Honey while Miguel was interrogating her. And gave her some peace of mind by telling her Hobbie’s death wasn’t on her.

Everyone making an appearance in the medbay at one point or another but Peter waking up to just her made my broken heart hurt a lot less. Though this scene was heartbreaking, it was necessary. I just couldn’t help sobbing at her loss of hope due to his admission.

Then, a loud squelch from the overhead PA system erupted. Eddie nearly jumped out of his skin as if God herself were speaking.

“Means I can mine all your data and spy on you when you look up porn,” Peni’s voice echoed over the loudspeakers in the car, further startling Eddie.

“Jesus!” Eddie cursed. He hissed, eyes cast upwards at the speakers. “I don’t look up porn on the Spider phone!”

Lemme just say, I’ve never laughed so hard during such a serious situation, then I did when I read Eddie’s reaction to Peni talking over the intercom system 🤣 I was cackling like a maniac!

And the build up of Honey coming to the realization that John had been listening to her through the phone the entire time… the moment she said it. I went ‘Oh fuck.’ And then shit hits the fan!

I’m just gonna say that I loved the intense, in-the-moment reactions of Peter & Honey in this part. The first thing he did was made sure she was safe and the last thing she said before sending him into battle was that she couldn’t lose him. 😭 Giving him even more of a reason to stay alive and keep their family safe.

I was on the edge of my seat the entire time! S.H.E.I.L.D being the swat team was epic for the storyline. Like I for sure thought ‘Oh fuck.’ there as well.

I really did not see the shoe coming. I also had a moment of weakness and had to giggle at this. And thank god for Jess kicking ass and making Honey see she had to make use of the weapons granted to her. the Ty other As well as Honey realizing she could be brave when it came to fighting for the ones she cares for.

I had to flinch away a time or two after she got the gumption to use the gun since her attack wasn’t very phased by it. But I was bouncing in my seat when Peter ripped him off of her. I was literally screaming at the screen to “Get your girl!!”

And then their realization that this was Peter Parker regardless of Venom… I was really hoping that this would be a turning point in their relationship and boy was it! It was her realizing that she wasn’t scared of that at all. Because she was his vulnerability. She was what kept him grounded.

I thought I loved them before but I just fell harder, damn it!

I really don’t know what to say about this ending… no words can do it justice. 😭💔

@liz-allyn I’ve never felt so connected to a characters death.

“S..ssay,” Honey heard a tiny voice whisper beneath her. She looked down to see Eddie looking up at her, teeth chattering. His lips were curved into a faint smile. “Wh—why the-the-the l-long face, N-nancy?”

It was like her heart literally ripped in half. She struggled to keep her sobs muted, clamping her mouth closed.

“Y-you... sh-should e-eat a Peanut Butter co-cookie, or so-somethin.’” He grinned wide, his teeth stained red. Tears dripped from her chin as she hiccuped out a small smile through her anguish.

“M’mm-’m afraid to-to die, Pete,” Eddie said with a shaky voice. He faltered for a single moment. Fear prodded at him as each expansion of his chest became heavier. Each breath came up shorter than the last.

Then, as stubborn as ever, he smirked with a flicker of light filling his glossy gaze. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he considered the irony. “Th-that’s-s gotta co-count for s-somethin’, right?”

Peter squeezed his eyes shut, nodding tearfully in a silent reply. When he opened them again, the current was stronger. The light was fading as it began to pull him under. Peter and Honey gripped tighter, as if their resolve could hold him.

“S-s-so...” Eddie said, locking eyes with Peter. “Thank... you.”

Into the darkness, he drifted away.

This fucking killed me. 💔 Somewhere a long the way, these ‘people’ went from being her kidnappers/keepers, to being her family. Ones in which she’d do anything to help. I think I cried just as much in her hysteria to try to save him as I did when Peter made her see there was no saving him, just from that realization alone. 😭

I am going to need some serious therapy but boy it was worth it! (I also take comfort in the form of fluff and smut, so I’m praying for that to ease the pain a bit!) 😁

I cannot wait to see what you have in store for us these last few chapters! I am really excited to see the path you’re taking moving forward! I’m truly obsessed! 😍

And I say this every time but I will say it again (probably more than once more) but your writing is so incredible and on point with the plot. I just can’t get enough of it and will be so sad when this series ends. 😫 thank you for bringing this series to life! 🥰❤️

Now I need a drink…. Or the bottle… 😭😭

sugar and vice, pt. 19 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: your sins will find you, eventually.

words: 10.3 k

chapter warning: heavy chapter warnings for dire!whumpy situations, death, g0re, g!uns, vi0lence!

series warnings: mob-typical bang bang violence, wh-mp. hurt/comfort. s-xu-l situations. spousal ab-se. family trauma. dr-g use. coercion. manipulation. kidnapping. gore. blood. toxic/yandere!peter (maybe, sorta), negative self talk, shameless forced proximity trope. ‘only ten one bed oops’ trope, imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions. extremely toxic relationships.

This version of TASM Peter is not canon. The relationships and characters here are not healthy.

Don't date a mob boss.™️

18+ You’re responsible for your own media consumption, but if you don't remember anyone having to figure out who else was on the landline so you could use the phone, then have you really lived? maybe wait on this one.

Back to Part 18.

Part 19

“Peter, wake up.”

The voice he could hear wasn’t his own. It was soft. Feminine. Gentle, like being awoken from a dream. He was comfortable wherever he was. He didn’t want to wake up.

“Peter, wake up,” the voice implored.

The sound of it made his heart ache. How could such a comforting sound cause him so much pain? ‘Bittersweet’ wasn’t the right expression. ‘Blissful agony’ was more accurate.

“Peter,” he heard again, the tones of the gentle voice pulling him from a dreamless slumber. Then, just like a dream, the voice faded into the abyss with a whisper.

“Hold on...”

Heaven, he thought. He was in Heaven.

The sound of her voice made him want to fall down and worship. Made him want to die.

“Gwen...” he mumbled—perhaps only in his own mind. He couldn’t move his lips. Couldn’t feel anything anymore.

What a blessed relief.

His heart throbbed as he felt himself flying. He wasn’t sure if he was sinking or soaring, but it was all so fast. All out of his control.

“You can let go now.”

“Grab ‘em!”

Gwen?

“Get ‘em up on the gurney!”

“It’s time, Peter. Time to go home.”

What do you mean by ‘home’? You’re my home. You’re my path.

“C’mon, Pete, don’t you fuckin’ do this—”

“Is he breathing?”

“I can’t find a pulse. I need the paddles.”

“Jesus Christ, Pete...”

“It’s okay, Peter. You can rest now.”

“Goddamnit—wake up, man.”

“CHARGING. STAND CLEAR.”

“Clear!”

A stab to his chest. A bite to the back of his neck.

“Hit ‘em again—clear!”

His whole body jolts. He’s sticking to the ceiling of a subway car.

“You have a choice, Peter. You don’t have to go back there.”

I want to stay with you, Gwen. I don’t wanna leave.

“Clear!”

His skin is on fire. Electricity ravages every muscle in his body. It sears his flesh and scrambles his brain. And all he can see is a pair of sparkling eyes.

Her eyes.

“Stay with me, Peter.”

“Pete, stay with us!”

“We can be together, finally. Like we were meant to be. They can go on without you.”

Her eyes. Beautiful, glittering eyes, full of warmth and sunlight. Sweet. Eyes like Honey.

“Goddamn it!” —“Again!” —“C’mon, Spidey!”—“Clear!”

The web catches Gwen by the chest, but it’s too late. It was always too late.

“Peter, please. Please. You can’t do this. You can’t do this right now.”

There is rapid whispering—murmuring, like a desperate prayer. But it’s not Gwen’s voice that he hears. It’s a voice that makes his chest ache just as much.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about everything.”

“You need to wake up, Peter.”

“Please, baby, please wake up. I’m so sorry. Just please stay with me.”

I can’t. I can’t go with you, Gwen.

“Peter, don’t do this.”

“Please just come back—”

“Why would you want to go back?”

“I need you... I need you to wake up.”

She needs me. Miles needs me. My family — my family needs me. I need to be with them.

A pair of green eyes are staring at him, but not in anger. Instead, there’s understanding. There’s compassion. There’s a hint of pride within the emerald hues.

“Peter, please, I’m sorry. Please come back to me.”

I need them. I need to make this right.

From her cloud in Heaven, she smiles at him. It breaks his heart and makes him whole.

“Clear!”

The next jolt racks his brain and yanks his consciousness from the abyss. He’s reborn again, blood-covered, gasping, and sputtering on a gurney surrounded by worried faces. Every muscle in his body spasms. His heart groans as it flutters back to life. Air slices through his lungs like razor blades. He coughs and shudders, shrinking away from the harsh light of the living.

“Thank fuck!” he hears a hiss from next to him. It’s Eddie. How did Eddie get here?

He pried his eyes open, pupils adjusting to the light.

Eddie was looking down at him, hazel-gray eyes full of joyful tears. “Don’t you ever do that again, you crazy bastard,” he chuckled. Two giant hands wrapped around Peter’s face as he embraced him lovingly.

Peter’s focus shifted as more faces came into view.

Helen Cho stood above him as she worked the pump of a blood pressure device cuffed around his bicep. She paused only briefly to wipe sweat from her brow. Miguel leaned back against a wall with eyes closed and face pale as if he was moments from throwing up. Felicia leaned over him, glaring at him with relief and fury. He couldn’t tell if the smirk that appeared was from the joy of his survival or glee from plotting his future demise. Each of them looked like they had run a marathon.

Peter’s left hand suddenly felt warm. His eyes shifted in its direction, and he followed the small hand barely covering his own.

There she is, he thought. The eyes that brought him back from the dead.

His Honey.

The kind eyes of the woman he fell in love with—against all odds, toppling all of his defenses—were fixed on him. They shimmered with tears as she struggled to keep a steady lip, gazing down at him like he was a miracle. She held his hand tightly as if afraid to let go. He was certain she was holding onto him with the intent of grounding him, but it looked the opposite. Instead, she looked overwhelmed with relief and on the verge of collapsing into a heap of sobbing gratitude.

Oddly enough, on the edge of life and death, he was the one who felt lucky. He felt contentment with the heat of her palm over his hand. He found peace in the loving look in her eyes.

He found a hope worth holding on to.

They were almost too late, Honey thought.

They found Peter exactly where Felicia thought he would be, more or less. Near Long Island City, not far from the Ravenswood Power Station. At a clock tower with a broken face.

Peter was at the bottom on a pile of rubble. It was a horrifying sight. His broken form was covered in dirt and dust, blood trailing from his ears and nose.

He was dead. He looked dead. She knew he had to be dead.

Suddenly, she couldn’t stand straight anymore. The air escaped her lungs, like a vacuum into space, as she stared at his motionless body. The sound evaporated and fragments of worried statements drifted by—goddamn you crazy sonofabitch—sweartogod you better be dead or i’ll kill ya—as Felicia and Eddie descended upon his body.

Blinking back tears, the vision of Peter’s corpse swam in her eyes.

Her mind was elsewhere.

It was night. She was at the mountain retreat, sitting up in Peter’s bed. She leaned over him, carding her fingers through his hair. Her heart ached with sympathy, forehead furrowed with concern. He sobbed into her lap like a child, curled into the fetal position.

That night, they would fall asleep hand-in-hand.

Her fingers twitched at the memory.

Hours had passed. She was sitting, perched anxiously on the back of a plastic bench, with arms wrapped tightly around herself and her eyes hawkishly observing the rise and fall of Peter’s chest.

They were in what Peter had referred to as “The Bunker.”

It was the abandoned, unfinished ‘Roosevelt Ave.’ subway station beneath Queens. Inside the decrepit station of chipping, art deco arches, and web-covered, stained glass skylights, was a row of abandoned subway cars left to rust on a track. Unlike the rest of the station, they were buzzing with energy.

They had been modified and outfitted to serve different purposes. One car held a weapons storage cache, a server room in the next, a sleeping and dining car lined with several cots and booths, a laboratory with a mishmash of equipment from the 1990s, and finally, a medical bay, which they were in.

Peter was unconscious. His body was bloodied and bruised, stretched out in a gurney, hooked up to IVs, wires, and electrodes. Monitors beeped around him, as fluid bags slowly drained into his system.

He looked like he’d been run over by a tank.

Whatever Peter attempted to do at the clock tower, it appeared as if he’d broken himself trying to do it.

A watercolor portrait of purples, reds, and blues covered the pale canvas of his torso. It looked as if the entity—Venom, as Eddie called it—had been ripped from his body, pulled out through his pores. In its wake, it laid waste to his flesh, leaving bruises that bubbled under his skin and stained his complexion in blackberry tones.

Peter had fallen unconscious just a few seconds after being revived. Dr. Cho informed the group that he still had a pulse, but she was uncertain how long it would take him to wake up again.

Or if he would. She didn’t have to say the part they were all already thinking about.

At the moment, he was sleeping, and Honey felt obligated to watch over him. His eyes twitched behind his lids, and she wondered what he was dreaming about or if he was dreaming at all. And if he was dreaming, she hoped it was a good dream.

Selfishly, she hoped she was in it. However, a familiar, bitter voice assured her that her presence would technically make it a nightmare.

Whatever anger she held, the boiling contempt fueled by her paranoia and fear, evaporated once she saw Peter’s broken body. It was a confusing whiplash of emotions—to want to shoot someone one moment and to weep over their corpse the next. She resented the conflict in her mind but understood the clarity of her heart.

She loved Peter. Without a doubt.

Whether that was a good or bad thing, she wasn’t sure. She’d been wrong about such things before.

But now, she wasn’t focused on the dark thoughts rousing suspicion in her mind. Instead, she was focused solely on his eyes, the way they shifted beneath the eyelids as he slept. She pictured their golden hue, indistinguishable from sunlight. She envisioned charting the constellation of beauty marks on his body. Kissing the tiny wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that formed whenever he smiled. Worshipping the artistry with which the gods carved out his jaw and molded his features.

She only looked up from her dutiful watch when she recognized Miles’ voice. Her eyes darted over as the teen emerged through the sliding doors. He was winded like he’d been running. Ripping off his beanie, his mocha eyes were wide with terror as he gazed at Peter’s state.

“Miles,” Felicia breathed a sigh of relief, alerting the others to his presence. He locked his worried gaze on his mentor. Other anxious faces occupied the back of the car as Johnny followed behind Miles and joined Miguel and Eddie.

“You shoulda called me,” he protested with indignation. The complaint was directed at everyone. “Why didn’t you let me know what was goin’ on? I coulda been there to help!”

“Honestly,” Felicia answered with an exasperated sigh, “I didn’t know what we’d find. Wasn’t ready to deal with that.”

“That’s bullshit,” Miles snidely argued. “One of y’all coulda died out there!” The tiniest crack formed in the tone of his voice. He clamped down on his jaw. “Pete coulda died out there! And, what, I was just supposed to sit around—?”

“And stay alive,” Eddie muttered under his breath. He sat with arms and ankles crossed across a subway bench. They turned to him, Miles fixing him with a scolding look, but Eddie didn’t shrink away. “That’s the whole point of this, kid.”

Miles’s eyes flashed lividly. “Call me ‘kid’ one more time—”

“That’s what you are!” Eddie snapped back, overcome with frustration. “Jesus Christ, you’re sixteen! Can you blame him for tryin’ to let you just be a kid for a little while longer?”

“Mira pendejo, I don’t need you to tell me—”

“No, Pete should tell you!” Eddie growled, cutting Miles off. The beefy man stood abruptly, striding towards the teen. “But since he might not ever wake up again, I’ll speak on his behalf! So shut up and listen!”

Miles snapped his mouth shut, though his eyes screamed lividly. The scowl on his youthful face made it look like he’d bitten off his own tongue. Eddie leered closer, making the teen puff up his chest, looking up only an inch to meet Eddie’s eyes.

“The world is shit,” the older man said, undeterred by Miles’ bravado. “I know it. You know it. Pete knows it better than anyone. Your uncle dragged you into this mess, but Peter tried to give you a way out. Away from all this crap. Away from Fisk. That’s why he took on the Symbiote! Not because he was chasing a high, not because he was on some power trip—he did it because he loves you, kid.”

“By almost gettin’ himself killed?” Miles snapped back. “That’s his love language? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie grumbled with a frown. Even he understood that Miles was right about that. “Some people only know how to love by how much they suffer.” He paused momentarily, keeping a stern expression while trying to conceal how much the statement resonated with him. “You either die a hero or live to see yourself become the villain. Pete doesn’t want this life for you. Trust me. You don’t want it either.”

“How do you know that, huh?” Miles said through gritted teeth. His eyes shimmered in the greenish lights of the subway car. “How do you know what I want—how does he? He doesn’t get to make my choices for me. Maybe I wanna decide for myself! Just like he did!”

His hazel-gray eyes drooped as he quietly contemplated the boy’s statement. “You do have a choice, kid,” he said, sorrow etching his features. “Just like he did.” The flared tempers simmering beneath the surface had burned off, leaving only a painful discourse behind. “And he wanted you to do better.”

Miles fell silent. His chest pumped slowly as he glared up at Eddie, jaw tensed. Cords tightened along the side of his neck, pulled taut by stubborn rage. Heat built up behind his eyelids, pushed along by tears threatening to break free. He sniffed, angrily wiping at his face, trying and failing to remain stern.

For his part, Eddie took no satisfaction in Miles’ inability to argue further. The train station was silent. From her vantage point, Honey could see the boy’s lower lip begin to quiver before he angrily bit down on it. Felicia stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Miles, albeit awkwardly.

As soon as her arms circled him, the teen’s resolve collapsed like a house of cards. His face crumpled, lines skewing his expression, and he buried his face into Felicia’s neck. Miles’ shoulders shook as sobs racked through his body.

As she watched, Honey realized she was crying along with him.

Hours passed.

More of the Spiders arrived.

Noir made an appearance but kept himself scarce. One look at Peter’s proximity to death and he spared himself from the stages of grief that would inevitably follow.

The woman Honey heard be referred to as “Redback” and “Jess Drew” arrived shortly after. She held an air of graceful authority and cautious collectedness. Although her composure was betrayed by the sight of her chewing her lower lip as Jess observed Peter. After that, she stayed away from the medical car, preoccupied with Miguel and Felicia as they discussed strategy.

The biggest surprise was the fleeting glimpse of a woman Honey had never seen. First, she saw quick movement behind the dirty subway windows. Then, a blurry silhouette zoomed across the rear exit between the cars. Finally, the doors slid open, and a pair of dark eyes blinked in her direction. A Victory roll of thick black hair pinned on the crown of her head poked out from behind the seat. As she leaned in, curtains of straight black hair cascaded off her shoulders in a pointedly-vintage 1950s style. The stranger spied on them, glancing worriedly at Peter and warily at Honey.

She was a twitchy, young-looking woman with an oval face and glittering eyes. For a gangster, her mostly-black outfit was more reminiscent of West Side Story than The Godfather. In true Rockabilly fashion, she wore a motorcycle jacket over a feminine red-and-white polka dot tank top, black skinny jeans, combat boots, and a bright cherry lip stain.

“Um... hello?” Honey asked with a shaky voice, unsure how to respond to whatever she was doing.

“I know who you are,” the woman called back from the shadows, still not fully entering the car.

Honey blinked. “Oh... kay...?”

“You never met me,” the woman affirmed, “if anyone ever asks you.”

“Um... I’m pretty sure I haven’t anyway.”

“Peni,” the voice called from the shadows. Only then did a face appear for longer than a few seconds. “I’ve watched you on camera. Hi.”

She almost did a double-take at the blunt information. Miles had mentioned the name ‘Peni’ before when referring to the team’s ‘tech nerd.’ But, whatever Honey was expecting, this wasn’t it.

As quickly as the introduction was made, it was over. Peni disappeared from view, the doors closing.

Once again alone with Peter, she stared at the empty doorway. “Hi.”

Honey was never good with silence. When it was too quiet, she was left with nothing but the parroting mockery of her inner dialogue. She recounted every word she said to Peter before the monster took over. She told him everything, and the fact that there was nothing to hide behind anymore terrified her.

What would he think of her now?

What did she think of herself? What did she think of Peter? And what would be the first thing she would say to him if she ever got the chance?

Just as her eyes began to blur for the dozenth time that hour, she spotted that the chance had arrived.

She held her breath. “Peter?”

The injured man stirred gently, lungs shakily taking in the stale air. The orbs of his eyes swam behind tightly-closed lids that were stained purple. A breathless groan crawled out of his throat.

Awe-struck, a short chuckle escaped her suddenly, with tiny tears budding in the corners of her eyes. “Hey...” she sharply exhaled, tightening her lips to keep them from trembling. One hand tightened around his fingers while the other covered her heart. “Peter... I’m—” She swallowed hard, her tongue twisted around nothing, tears dripping past her widening grin. “Hi.”

The slightest movement of his head triggered a grimace. Gently, he pried his eyelids open, like awakening from a 1,000-year sleep. She fought the urge to erupt into gleeful laughter as he laid eyes on her. Joy washed over her, sweeping her along a river of relief.

She blinked away her tears as she lost herself in the soft hue of his eyes, mesmerized by the facets of cognac and smoky quartz that rested tiredly on hers. They were, without a doubt, the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen.

A crease formed between his thick brows. “Are you here?” he murmured in a wary voice.

The smile slipped off her face at his question, eyes blinking rapidly. “I’m-I’m here.” His face didn’t soften. She suddenly thought of awful soap operas where a lead character wakes up from a coma and is stricken with amnesia. The thought stirred fear in her, followed by confusion. “I’m... right here.” Would things be better if he didn’t know who she was?

Silence. He studied her. She observed the color of his eyes dim somberly. Sadness pulled at the corners of his mouth. It twisted her heart.

He remembered her, alright.

“Why?” he croaked.

She took in a sharp breath as if a needle had stabbed her. She was shocked by the question, and in her confusion, it afforded her time to think about it.

Why was she here?

Only a dozen hours ago, she wanted to shoot him dead. Just an hour before that, she wanted to lay in the warmth of his arms forever. A handful of months before that, she was his prisoner.

Their relationship had changed so many times her mind couldn’t keep up with what her heart was feeling. Pure instinct drove her actions, for better or for worse.

But since all of her darkest secrets spilled forth from her mouth, and Venom spilled forth from Peter’s darkness, everyone had been focused solely on bringing Peter home safely. Herself included. Once Peter had been found, no one explicitly told her to follow them to the Bunker.

Instead of doing the thing she was most comfortable doing— running— she had remained at Peter’s side.

What’s that about?

A million answers swirled — I was forced to be here, I was afraid to be left behind, I had nowhere else to go — but none of them seemed right. Finally, Honey found a response that made sense. Her instincts dictated her words.

“There wasn’t anywhere else I wanted to be.”

The truth sounded strange coming from her lips, shamefully. As she met Peter’s eyes, he watched her sullenly as if he were thinking the same thing.

Silence returned. The ever-present foe was broken only by a shaky cough rattling Peter’s bones. The look on his face suggested that every breath was agony.

Silence—always jabbering, when will you ever shut up?—it was deafening. Driving her insane.

“Dr. Cho wasn’t sure if—” She stopped short, anxiously rephrasing her sentence, “Um, wasn’t, uh—wasn’t sure when you’d wake up.” Her free hand rubbed her knee. The statement left her queasy. “I didn’t want you to be alone when you did.”

His lashes fluttered open, eyes full of melancholy as they rested on her. “Sweet girl.”

She gripped his hand and sat inches away, but it felt more like lightyears. It was as if Peter had died in the fall, and all that was left was a shell. The coldness of each moment pierced her heart further. Yet, despite this, she lifted her chin with resolve.

“I, um... I know it technically makes me a hypocrite,” she began softly, “but I’m trying not to be mad that you tried to get rid of the Symbiote alone.” She met his eyes with a sad gaze. “You coulda died.”

He watched her with an unreadable expression.

“I know it’s not fair for me to be angry,” Honey reasoned, swallowing down her emotion. “But when I thought you were gonna die, I was mad. And then I was sad. And scared. Maybe more scared than anything.”

His eyes drifted downcast towards his feet. “M’sorry.”

“Me too. What I did—it was... it was bad—”

“I didn’t know.”

She knitted her brows together. “Didn’t know I was sorry? Or didn’t know it was bad—?”

“Didn’t know...” he replied with a weak tone, “...what he did to you.”

Her jaw clenched tightly as heat rushed to her cheeks. She had wanted to talk but was now regretting it. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for that discussion.

Peter’s eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, forehead creased with sorrow. “Didn’t know what you were runnin’ from. Thought it was me. But it was him.”

Tears brimmed as she gazed down at him. A frigid smile stretched his lips—the kind that doesn’t warm the eyes. Bitterness and sorrow weighed down his expression.

“Makes sense—why you never trusted me.” The corners of his mouth twisted downward as his eyes went glossy. Heartbreak flayed his voice. “He’s what you see when you look at me.”

He mumbled it aloud, but he wasn’t speaking to her. Instead, he was lost in a prison with bars of guilt and locks of self-loathing.

His misery cut through her like a knife to her heart. Irony mocked her. Earlier that day, she foolishly almost killed herself over the idea that Peter and John were the same. But, facing Peter in the present, she couldn’t think of anything further from the truth.

“No!” she stuttered in distress. “No-n—Peter, that’s not—I don’t, I swear I don’t.”

Remorsefully, she shook her head, welling with tears. He met her eyes again, and all she could see was despair. It was like watching a ship sink into the ocean. Like watching someone she loved drown before her eyes.

Loved.

“Peter,” she whimpered, jaw wobbling, “I... you don’t...I don’t....” Her inability to communicate infuriated her. Impatiently, she thrust the words out, “I-I love y—”

“Don’t say it,” he whispered, voice strained. He snapped his eyes shut, tearing her from his sight. “Please don’t.” It was the most desperate of pleas.

“Don’t say anything.” His voice broke on the last word. A flood spilled past the gates of his lids, rolling over whatever strength he had left. “Whether it's true or not, I don’t think I know what’s real anymore.”

Her soul shattered at his admission, and she could only nod. The trust between them— what little bit there had ever been— was broken beyond repair. No fixing it this time.

“Holy shit—he’s awake!”

She heard Johnny’s voice over her shoulder, reminding her of where they were. She looked over at Johnny, standing in the doorway of the sliding emergency exit, as he called out to the adjacent car. “Doc! He’s awake!”

Within several seconds, the car was flooded with excitement. Honey sheepishly wiped her tears away, back straightening, as bodies crowded around her. Felicia and Miles were closest to Peter, followed by Eddie and Miguel. Johnny leaped over a bench seat to join the pandemonium from the other side. Helen pushed toward the front after Felicia ordered the group to make way.

Reluctantly, Honey released his hand, standing up to give Helen her place at his side.

The doctor immediately went to work with a flashlight beaming in Peter’s eyes and her fingers on his pulse, asking him how he was feeling.

“Living the dream,” he weakly replied, with no lack of sarcasm.

“You’re lucky to be living at all,” Helen remarked coldly. “Anyone else taking a fall like that would’ve been a splatter on the pavement.”

Honey faintly responded out of earshot, her voice mouselike and thick with grief. “He’s nothing like everyone else.”

In the early stages of dawn, Honey was in the dining car surrounded by the others. Peter had passed out soon after he awakened. He slept soundly in the medical car under Helen’s observation. The doctor explained that the best thing for him would be to let him rest. Moving him would be dangerous.

Miguel pointed out that they were compromised, so there was nowhere safe to move him.

With that grim frustration, he questioned Honey before the rest of the gang. It was difficult to talk about her trauma. It was even harder to admit her betrayal to those she knew best. It was torture to talk about both things in front of everyone—strangers, like Jess and Noir, or Johnny, now catching up on what he’d missed earlier. Or Miles—especially Miles.

Part of her wanted to be offended by the interrogation's coldness and Miguel’s gruff tone. Who was he to treat her like she was a criminal?

But as soon as that defensiveness reared inside her, she cut it down. She was a rat, but did she have to be a hypocrite, too?

“Tell me again,” Miguel demanded firmly. “What else did you tell Walker?”

Honey slumped down in the bench seat with her arms folded. “Names,” she grumbled bitterly. “Times.”

With each answer, she felt her skin burning from the rising heat of contempt. There was no more hiding from it. The most she could do was be as honest as possible.

She resigned herself to scrutiny as an act of penance. “Who came and went. When they went. Where they were going. Locations.”

Miguel’s eyes went wide with alarm. “Did you tell him about this place?”

“No,” she bit back. “I didn’t even know this place existed.”

Unsatisfied, he glowered, “When did you last talk to him?”

“I didn’t talk to him—”

“Then how did you communicate?”

“Give it a rest, Miguel,” Felicia scowled, unimpressed by his ‘bad cop’ persona.

Honey didn’t feel like she was on Felicia’s good side either, but she did feel somewhat shielded by her presence.

Mercilessly, he drove right through whatever shield may have existed. “You stabbed us in the back!” he accused, pointing his finger at her. “You were offered multiple chances to come clean, but you refused, and people died. You could’ve done the right thing, but you didn’t. So I’m sorry if I’m not as sensitive to your predicament.”

Shame filled her face as she cast her eyes downward. Nothing could shield her from the guilt.

“That’s enough,” Felicia said, shooting impatient eyes at Miguel.

“Not until we know our people are safe!”

“I said ‘enough’!”

Miguel took a step back. Felicia didn’t raise her voice often, but it felt like the ground itself shook. Her eyes flashed red as she skewered him with her gaze. Quietly fuming, he glared at his superior and then stormed off.

Tiredly, Felicia sighed. “Where are we with backup?” she asked, pressing her lips into a firm line. “Who’s checked in?”

“Peni’s running comms,” Jessica replied. “Pinging everyone’s GPS now.”

Eddie mumbled through a tired yawn, “You got GPS trackers on everybody?”

“On the phones,” Miles explained. “She hacks the OS before we hand them out. Allows her to access them remotely.”

Idly, he scratched at the scruff on his face, replying, “What’s the point in that?” Then, a loud squelch from the overhead PA system erupted. Eddie nearly jumped out of his skin as if God herself were speaking.

“Means I can mine all your data and spy on you when you look up porn,” Peni’s voice echoed over the loudspeakers in the car, further startling Eddie.

“Jesus!” Eddie cursed. He hissed, eyes cast upwards at the speakers. “I don’t look up porn on the Spider phone!”

Alarmed, Johnny whispered, “Can she really do that?”

“Can we please stay on task?!” Felicia glowered.

“Miguel’s right.”

The group refocused their attention on Honey. Her head was lowered, eyes glistening. “This is my fault,” she whispered sorrowfully, replaying the series of bad decisions that brought her to this point.

When she glanced back up, she was met with more silence. Painful, but not unkind.

“I, um... I don’t—I’m not good... with... trusting people,” she said sheepishly. “Not good with... letting anyone in.” She hesitated, her voice shaky as she breathed through the heartache. Patiently, the others were waiting for her to continue.

“I... I know it’s not worth much, but I’m sorry.” She swallowed hard, her eyes rimmed with tears. “I’m sorry about Hobie,” she said with an expression like she had eaten glass. “I should’ve stopped this a long time ago.”

Felicia fixed sorrowful eyes on her. “Hobie’s death wasn’t on you,” she softly explained. “Between Fisk and the Feds, there are some hefty prices on our heads. Money like that makes loyalty difficult. That night, it didn’t matter what info you had. It was one of our guys that helped pull the trigger. Most of the time, we’re pretty good at picking out the bad apples. Not always.”

Honey stared up at her with furrowed brows, nodding graciously as she accepted the tiny reprieve from guilt.

“Plus, it helps to see everything everyone does with their phone when they’re in the bathroom.” The Voice of God chimed in again, but Peni was standing in the car's doorway this time. Eddie nearly clung to the ceiling with fright.

“How are you doing that?!” he exclaimed.

Peni rolled her eyes incredulously. “By logging keystrokes, duh—”

“No, not that!” Eddie hissed.

“Not to mention, that’s a huge invasion of privacy,” said Johnny.

Eddie looked over at the tiny woman. “Do you have this place wired or something? Or bugged?”

“Wired?” their tech nerd scoffed. “Bugged? What do you think this is, Goodfellas?”

“Good movie,” Noir stated firmly.

“That’s the one with Leo, right?” Miles asked.

Johnny blanched at the teen’s response. “Wait, what did you just say—???”

“For your information, Eddie, I don’t have to plant microphones to hear your conversation,” Peni arrogantly teased, nose in the air. “What do you even think phones are for, dummy?”

“Dude!” Johnny was still staring at Miles like he’d grown extra arms, the two of them squabbling. “Don’t tell me you’re confusing The Departed with Goodfellas—!”

“Nah, man, that’s the one with the mumblin’ dude who's like ‘you come to me on the day of my daughter’s wedding—’”

Johnny’s voice soared to new heights. “That’s The Godfather!”

“He gave me a phone!” Blurting out with alarm, Honey shot up to her feet.

Jess stared, brows furrowed with confusion. “I think we’re past that—”

“John gave me a phone!” she clarified, eyes darting to Felicia and Peni. “He told me to always have it on me... Jesus Christ! He was listening! The whole time— he could hear everything!”

The rest stared in confusion while Honey grappled with the next horrifying thought.

John heard everything.

Every conversation.

Every detail.

Every secret.

He had everything.

“Oh God,” she breathed, face full of terror.

She paled at the memory of being in her bed, curled up in Peter’s arms as he divulged his deepest secrets. The phone that would damn them all was inches away, tucked securely in the box frame.

He knows everything.

Her eyes went wide, filling with panic. “They’re coming—”

“Get down!” Peter's strained voice cracked through the silence.

A moment later, a cacophony of gunfire, pelted metal, and shattering glass surrounded them. Bodies hit the subway car floor like dominos, wedging between walls and beneath seats. Honey landed hard on her side, knocking the wind out of her.

Screams rang out all around as glass rained down on them. Pops of automatic gunfire rolled on uninterrupted, like spokes on a wheel. Honey could feel tiny pinprick stings from shavings of metal and splintered plastic, like a wasp's nest had consumed the car. The exposed parts of her skin were battered with debris. As she cowered, a heavy weight dropped on her back.

The second she recognized the cinnamon and cedar scent, she opened her eyes in astonishment. Peter was there—fully awake, with wires and IVs still attached. He protected her, blanketing her with his body while she clutched him tight. She buried her face in his warmth while hell rained down around them.

“Agghhhh!” — “Stay down!” — “Cat! Get back here!” — “Kill the lights!” — “There’s too many of ‘em...”

Voices called out frantically, rolled over by the crashing waves of gunfire.

At a certain point, she wondered how long the guns were firing. Was it five minutes? Five years? The constant barrage of blamblamblam pierced her eardrums and rattled her bones, driving her insane with terror. Her heart must have outpaced the bullets. She felt Peter’s arms tighten around her, securing her to his chest.

She focused on his body heat, his breath on her neck, and the vise of his arms. It was deja vu, eerily identical to the night he carried her away from Fisk’s garage.

Her mind transported her away from the train back to that day. She trembled in the steaming water of the bathtub, trying to read his warm eyes— the color of caramel and chocolate and bourbon—while he diligently dabbed at the adhesive covering her mouth. The only roughness in his touch came from the calluses on his fingertips.

She has no reason to trust him. But she does anyway.

His long, gentle fingers. They laid out a spread of plated charcuterie and sandwiches cut into triangles onto a picnic blanket overlooking a gorgeous vista of the Catskills. That’s where she is now. Nervously, he frets about the forgotten wine, pushing his fingers through his thick hair. He looks boyish and shy.

She has every right to be terrified. But she isn’t.

She held Peter so tight she was concerned about breaking his bones and damaging him further. But she was incapable of prying her hands from him. No one could.

There was no escaping this. They were trapped. Any moment now, everything would go black. Seconds away from the darkness. Centimeters from death.

And there wasn’t anywhere else she wanted to be.

The gunfire let up for a few moments. A pocket of air in which to breathe.

“Goddamn it, it’s S.H.I.E.L.D.!” Miguel’s voice hollered from outside the car, although hearing him over the ringing in their ears was difficult.

Honey wasn’t listening anyway. She was listening to Peter’s voice as he crooned a heartachingly pure rendition of ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You,’ a song she felt might as well have been written about them.

“Honey, look at me.” His alarm brought her back to the present. He stared down at her, his eyes anxiously searching her face, while he hoisted himself above her on his forearms.

The moment she locked eyes with his, tears filled her gaze. Fear, joy, desperation—it overwhelmed her, hitting her like a tidal wave. He was still injured, she noted. The skin on his face and exposed upper body were still marked up with bruises and minor cuts. But his eyes—the tang of oranges, the golden tint of an Old Fashioned—reflected how alive he was, despite his earlier outward appearance.

Adrenaline surged through his body as he caged her with his forearms. By contrast, his voice was as soft as a feather. “Honey—talk to me.” He whispered, breathless with fear he was struggling to contain. His eyes regarded her like she was something intricate, delicate, and precious. “You okay?”

Her lungs were empty. Her vision was blurred with tears. But she nodded quickly, her chin wobbling.

A glimmer of relief crossed his features as he caressed her cheek. “Okay, s’okay... you’re okay, I gotcha—” It was unclear who he was reassuring. “You’re gonna be okay, ’m gonna get you out.”

She had no reason to trust him. But she did. Her head continued to nod, and a little hum escaped from her throat in agreement.

“Stay down, okay?” he said placatingly while his thumb brushed the delicate skin beneath her eye. “Stay right here. I’m comin’ back.”

“No, please! Please don’t leave.”

“I’ll be right back—”

“I-I can’t, please, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can—”

“I can’t lose you!”

His breath hitched. She felt his heart skip beneath his chest. Adoration pooled in his eyes. “I’m coming back. I promise.” He kissed her forehead softly, allowing his gaze to linger just long enough for a reassuring half-smile.

She had no reason to believe him. But she had to.

Before she could protest, he pushed himself up to a low crouch. Then, in the blink of an eye, she watched him leap from the ground and cling to the ceiling of the subway car. Stunned, she watched him crawl barefoot to the emergency exit at the top of the train car. Then, silently and swiftly, he disappeared through the port hole.

“Nancy! Stay down!”

Eddie’s voice... and his silly, endearing nickname. She was still on her back on the floor. She glanced up to see an upside-down viewpoint of Eddie as he reached for her. Next to him, Johnny and Jessica took cover beneath the table. “Stay right there! I’m comin’ to you—”

Another barrage of gunfire erupted, and he flattened to the ground. A scream ripped out at the rear of the subway car. Honey glanced down to see Miles crumpling into a ball as bullet holes sliced through the metal dangerously close to his cowering form. Beside him, Helen dragged herself along the ground sluggishly. She was covered in blood.

“Miles!” Honey shrieked. Her body moved of its own accord. Jarring drum hits rang out from both sides as she army-crawled toward the teen. The gunfire began to become more sporadic, with more frequent pauses.

“Reloading, let’s go!”

“The lights! The lights!”

Every inch felt like a mile, but she pushed on with her belly to the ground. She reached Miles first, pulling him to the ground and hugging his body closer to hers just as another wave hit. Honey guided Miles along the floor toward Helen as soon as it passed over.

The woman gasped and sputtered as she writhed in pain. Blood soaked through her right side, from her torso to her thigh. Eyes horrified at the damage, Honey searched Helen’s face desperately.

“To-to-tuorn-tourniquet...” the doctor said through chattering teeth.

“Gimme your belt!” Honey said to Miles. “Stay flat!”

The teen diligently reached for his nylon belt, shifting around to loosen and remove it while keeping his back to the floor. Honey took the belt from him and helped Helen wrap it around her thigh.

Just as she pulled it tight, the lights switched off. Frantically, Honey searched the cabin with terror, struggling to adjust to the darkness. More shouting, unfamiliar, followed by howls of fear and pain, surrounded her. From her vantage point, she could see shapes outside better now that the cabin lights were out.

Black-clad figures outfitted with S.W.A.T. gear and carrying more artillery than a small militia tip-toed around the car. She watched as one of the infiltrators passed by a window opposite from her. A pair of dark boots dropped onto the gunman, taking him to the ground. She gasped, ducking closer to the floor as the gunman was beaten and had his rifle taken. Then, she recognized Noir by his black trench coat, finally releasing her breath.

The relief was short-lived. Noir turned and fired the weapon, which looked like a shotgun, at an incoming attacker. The bang was accentuated by a splatter on the windows, like a can of stewed tomatoes had exploded. Honey yelped at the sight before covering her eyes. She felt her stomach rolling in her belly.

A crash forced her eyes back open. She looked through the darkness to glimpse Felicia’s silver hair and the glint of a silver knife. She fought hand-to-hand with another armed combatant twice her size outside the train. The stout man was no match for the smaller-framed woman’s speed. She attacked him from all sides, burying her blade between his ribs like fangs on a viper.

Another goon rushed at her, knocking her flat on her back. Honey’s heart nearly stopped with panic as she watched the gunman aim his weapon at Felicia, prepared to fire. Suddenly, Miguel leaped out of nowhere with the talons of his gauntlet raised.

The razor-sharp blades attached to his forearm rang out as they cut through the air. Honey had no idea what type of metal they were made from, but it was sharper than anything she’d ever seen. With a woosh, the blades sliced through the rifle barrel like a blade of grass. In shock, the gunman dropped the rifle and drew a pistol instead. Miguel sliced through the man’s wrists with the same ease, separating his hands from his body.

She looked away as another spray of crimson covered the walls and seat. She heard the gunman cry out before being silenced with a sickening squelch.

Miguel was suddenly yanked backward by a brutish figure, pulling him off the train.

“Miguel!” Felicia called out with alarm. Within seconds she uprighted herself and barrelled outside to back him up. Honey attempted to follow her with her gaze, but another burst of gunfire erupted, so close that she could smell the burning of her own hair.

“I’m comin’!” Miles hollered. Honey stayed down, too afraid to look up.

“They’re coming through the rear!” she heard Jess’ voice from nearby.

“Keep ‘em away from the train!” Johnny’s voice.

Where was Peter?

She felt sick. She hadn’t seen or heard him since he vanished. The idea of him meeting a brutal end made her dizzy. It made her flesh clammy. Bile crawled up her throat, with a rising panic close to a scream. She clamped her mouth closed to keep it all inside. She couldn’t think about Peter being hurt right now. She could barely think at all.

A gunshot, followed by a male groan.

“Storm!”

She squealed as Johnny collapsed through the train entrance and landed hard on the ground. From her hiding spot, she saw blood soaking his right shoulder.

Her eyes went wide. “Johnny—!”

Another footsoldier boarded the train behind him, wielding a bloody combat dagger. Dazed from blood loss himself, the soldier collapsed on top of Johnny, the knife raised up high. She watched the two men struggle, trembling beneath a seat. It reminded her of lions thrashing, burying blade-like claws into one another.

More gunfire erupted nearby, jolting her out of her reverie. Johnny’s attacker straddled him and bared his weight down on the hilt of the dagger. Arms shaking and hands slick with blood, Johnny clutched the blade, trying to keep it from piercing his chest.

Her eyes narrowed on the attacker. The man wore face paint to obscure his features, like some deranged Navy Seal. His tactical clothes were solid black, save for a white, geometric eagle patch on his shoulder. This was ‘SHIELD,’ or whatever Miguel called it.

Honey saw the strain on her friend’s face, noting the weakening of his muscles. If she did nothing, Johnny would be stabbed to death right in front of her.

She needed to intervene.

Do something.

She glanced around desperately for a weapon.

The men were snarling with lips curled back. The attacker raised his fist above the hilt, ready to bash the knife into Johnny’s chest. Suddenly, he was smacked in the face by a midweight object. Dazed, he blinked through the darkness to spot a blood-splattered ballet flat on the ground. He looked up, glimpsing its owner.

Wide-eyed, Honey stared back at the SHIELD agent as he set crosshairs on her. The man bounded forward, lunging at her. She screamed, crawling backward like a crab, as the man grabbed her by the ankle above her bare foot. He held the knife high, preparing to plunge it into her chest. A blam rang out, stopping him in his tracks, as a bullet tore through the man’s heart.

As her attacker toppled backwards, Honey turned around to see Jessica holding a smoking pistol. Without a second thought, the woman rushed up to Johnny and lowered herself to his side. “Are you hurt?” she asked Honey, offhandedly as she examined his stab wound.

Honey shook her head ‘no.’

He grunted in pain as Jessica put pressure on the wound beneath Johnny’s collarbone. “Get his gun,” she ordered as she worked. Honey blinked at the gunman’s corpse, hand still clinging to a bloody knife.

“Get the gun!” Jess repeated, eyes intense. “Works a lot better than a shoe.”

She blinked. “I... I can’t.”

The Woman glanced up at her with a hard line between her brows. “It’s either them or you. Who’s it gonna be?”

Honey stared back, face blank. Jessica pressed her lips together. “I have to check on Cho. Put pressure right here.” Honey crawled towards them, replacing Jessica’s hands with hers. She gulped dazedly, watching the sticky, red warmth pool around her fingers. He hissed in pain, but diligently, she held the compress firm.

The Woman stood quickly and shuffled over to the dead man, retrieving his sidearm and knife. She returned with the pistol in hand, ejecting, examining, and replacing the magazine like flexing one of her muscles. She wrenched back the top of the gun, letting it slide back in place with a lock.

Honey watched the whole thing, jaw agape like it was a magic trick.

Deftly, she flipped the weapon around, presenting the grip end to Honey and placing it in the woman’s hand.

“Now it’s them or him,” Jess declared firmly, jerking her forehead towards Johnny. “You choose.”

Bewildered, she warily took the weight of the gun as Jess disappeared toward the back of the train. “Don’t shoot anyone we know!” the Woman called out.

Honey stared at the gun, then found Johnny’s sweating face. “It’s okay,” she whispered, putting weight back on his wound. “I’m gonna take care of you.” She swallowed the tremor in her voice, putting on a face of confidence, despite her terror.

She could pretend to be brave? Right?

Another spray of shots pierced the cabin overhead, and she crouched down to cover Johnny.

The barrage of shots eased again, pausing for a blessed few seconds. “Incoming!” she heard Miguel shout outside. “Ultraman’s here!”

Ultraman? What...?

The emergency lights in the tunnel dimmed as a whirring sound began to ring out. With eyes like saucers, she witnessed growing pandemonium outside. More shouting and panicked footsteps echoed in the darkened tunnel, followed by a slowly-building roar, like a jet engine coming to life.

“Get down!” she heard Miles’ voice behind her. He leaped over the bench seat and pressed his body over hers and Johnny’s. Suddenly, the train jerked sideways, knocked off the track like a toy. The bodies inside were tossed to the opposite wall as the car toppled over.

Head throbbing and eyes blurry, Honey gazed around attempting to get her bearings. A bright, red light erupted, a beam cutting through the floor of the car, just a few feet away from where they had been thrown. She watched in horror as the vehicle was sliced in half like a loaf of bread.

Shrieks from terrified men echoed outside. The car rocked, metal twisting as the train's rear tore away. With her jaw agape, she peered down the train car, now opened up like a tunnel. Finally, her eyes found the source of the commotion.

A ten-foot humanoid robot smashed through the bodies of the SHIELD team, knocking them down like bowling pins. She watched in stunned disbelief as the robot’s giant legs trampled fallen soldiers beneath its mechanical feet. The arms of the robot were as thick as steel beams but faster than a human’s. They thrust out in all directions, tossing adult bodies like rag dolls. The machine was a red-and-yellow blur, with shells bouncing harmlessly off its bulletproof skin.

“C’mon,” Miles grasped Honey’s shoulder, pulling her to attention. “We gotta go!”

“What is that thing?” she gasped.

“It’s Peni!” he shouted back. “Now, c’mon, let’s move!”

Shaking the astonishment away, she followed Miles’ lead. She grabbed Johnny’s legs as the teen hooked his forearms underneath the injured man’s shoulders. They grunted from the effort of hoisting him up.

“m’sorrym’sorrym’sorrysorry...” Miles rattled off as Johnny wailed in pain. “Don’t be mad at me!”

The two carried him towards the tunnel opening, wobbling as they walked. Honey spotted movement from beside them— a gunman peering into an emergency port hole.

“Miles! Look out!” a voice boomed. She glanced over to see Eddie flying across the car, tackling Miles as the automatic weapon started firing. She screamed, dropping herself and Johnny to the ground, as bullet holes pierced the side of the car.

When she looked up, she stared at the white-eagle emblem on the shoulder of the agent as he turned his gun from Miles to Honey. The man crawled through the port hole, just feet away from her.

Horrified, she looked around until she saw the pistol Jess left her with lying in the rubble between her and the attacker. Eyes wide, she scurried on her hands and feet, crawling towards it. The gunman rushed her as soon as he saw what she was doing.

For the second time in her life, Honey fired a gun. She jolted from the shocking recoil after the trigger had been pulled. The man howled and dropped to one knee. Stunned, she watched the man writhe, having taken the bullet in his shin.

He looked up and glared at her with a murderous stare, fumes coming from his nose. Her jaw went slack as he lunged at her. She fired the weapon again, this time hitting him in the torso. It barely slowed him down, planting into the Kevlar of his vest. Before she could adjust, the attacker’s hand was wrapped around her throat, and he wrenched the pistol from her fingers.

“Fuckin’ bitch!” he spat at her, wheezing from the impact to his bulletproof vest. “Can’t wait ‘til he tears you a new—”

The man’s grip dropped immediately as his head wrenched backward.

Honey looked up in awe to see Peter, splattered blood beading down his chest, towering over them. Teeth gritted, he held the man by his hair, his massive hand expanding over the crown of his head. Then, with an enraged growl, Peter jerked his arm back.

She watched the gunman jolt as his scalp was ripped off so forcefully that the top of his skull came with it. The man flailed, legs twitching sporadically like he’d swallowed a power line. Finally, Peter released his body. With blank eyes, he slumped to the side, brain matter spilling out.

She trembled at the horrific scene, watching the attacker go limp. Her wide eyes traveled up to her rescuer.

Peter Parker. Half monster. Half man. Chest heaving, animalistic eyes roving, his savagery on full display. Her jaw hung open as she regarded him with horrified awe, with several thoughts swimming through her head.

One.

He looked feral. Blood trailed down his face and torso in tiny crimson rivers. The ghastly sight made him look both dead and alive. More beast than man. Even without the Symbiote attached, his eyes were blown black from adrenaline. She thought about how Eddie mentioned Venom ‘reacted differently’ to Peter. And now she could see why.

Violence was in his very nature. He wore it around his shoulders like a cape. Carnage was his crown. The blood staining his flesh only made him stand taller, like a conquering barbarian on top of a mountain of skulls. He never needed Venom to become something monstrous. The violence was visceral, and he could never be separated from it. Not completely.

It was terrifying to witness. She should be terrified.

Two: she wasn’t.

She realized this as he locked eyes with her, suddenly going still. She watched him. He watched her. Both of them thinking the same thought.

This is who he was. Peter Parker.

Not Venom.

Not Ben Reilly.

Not any other false name he used to conceal himself in the darkness. As much as it terrified him, he was the darkness.

His eyes softened as he looked down at her, like a switch had been thrown. He turned docile only under her gaze.

This was also who he was. And she realized that she didn’t want him any other way.

“Are you hurt?” Peter quietly asked, crouching before her as he scanned over her figure. Eyes glistening, she nodded, her mind stricken with deja vu. He reached out delicately with bloody hands and tipped her chin upwards until their gazes met.

She swayed as exhaustion collided with her, weakening her muscles. “I-I...” she mumbled, jaw agape and shoulders limp, staring up at him with a hypnotized expression. “I... lost my shoe.”

He blinked in confusion before glancing down to see one of her ballet flats was missing.

“I think I saw it over here,” Johnny muttered through gritted teeth, snapping them out of their bubble. They turned to see him sprawled out on the ground, holding his shoulder with a thin sheen of sweat on his face. “I’m okay too, by the way.”

“Johnny!” Peter said, alarmed. They dropped back to the ground and flanked the bleeding man. “Can you move?” he asked, brows furrowed.

The blonde grunted as he held onto his pectoral muscle, blood soaking half his shirt. “Sure. Flesh wound.”

A cocky smile filled with pearly white teeth assured them he was still relatively ‘normal.’ They breathed a sigh of relief as Peter delicately helped him up into a sitting position.

The attack had ended. Honey wasn’t entirely sure when. The whirring steps of the robot approaching caught her attention. She looked down to see the red-and-yellow mecha-spider step up to the opening of the train car. “That’s the last of them,” Peni’s mechanized voice declared. The robot’s torso opened to reveal Peni sitting inside. The wizard behind the curtain with painted blood-red lips.

“They’ll be back,” Peter said grimly before turning to Honey.

Tears filled her eyes as she stared back at him. Guilt gutted her, breaking her heart and every bit of strength left in her body. “This is all my fault.”

Just as Peter was about to reply, the broken sound of Miles’ voice clipped him short. The teenager whimpered, dread filling his lungs, “Guys...”

Peter and Honey turned towards Miles, seeing the teen crouched over on his knees. A body lay before him. They scurried to their feet, rushing to his side. Honey froze mid-step, eyes wide with horror.

“Eddie...” she gasped.

The burly man was on his back with a gaping hole in his chest. Slowly, it pooled with blood as he wheezed in short spurts. Miles leaned over him desperately, trying to stop the bleeding with his soaked-through beanie.

Eddie looked ashen, the life drained from his face. His eyes were wide as they stared up at the ceiling, filled with horror and awe. He sputtered and coughed, his lungs struggling to keep the liquid out. Blood tinged his lips.

“Eddie!” Honey yelped, dropping to her knees to bring her hands over Miles’s.

It was like trying to hold back a river. All eyes were now on Eddie’s dire situation—Noir, Felicia, and Peni approaching quickly. Jess and Miguel looked on from the back of the car, both of them pausing momentarily from trying to assist Helen.

Miles gazed down at his savior, lip wobbling and hands shaking. “He... he pushed me outta the way. He-he saved me—”

“Christ!” They heard Felicia curse as the silver-haired woman rushed over and touched Eddie’s pulse. Honey glanced at her, watching fear capture the fearless.

“We need help over here!” Peter called out, voice strained with panic that Honey had never heard from him before. He was winded with terror as his palms enveloped Miles’s, frantically working to stop the bleeding.

“Cho’s hurt bad,” Jessica called back. Beside her, Miguel was hooking his arms beneath the doctor’s legs, hoisting her up off the ground.

“It’s okay, we-we got this,” Honey called back. Hysteria slowly choked her. “I-I can fix this! I can patch him up!”

“But Helen—”

“I can do this!” Honey hissed, desperate tears spilling down her face. “I just need a-a med kit or... Sutures! I can sew it up, all she’s gotta do is walk me through it.”

“Sweetie,” Felicia uttered under her breath. Honey froze in her gaze, her blue eyes glazed with tears. “She’s not even conscious...”

She wore a mournful expression, condolences pouring silently from her mouth.

Honey would have none of it. Defiantly, she shook her head, lips pursed into a straight line. “I’ll figure it out myself!” she choked back a sob. “Just—somebody, get me the med kit! Get me—” Honey blocked out the worried stares that surrounded her.

Instead, she focused on Eddie. She thought about cupcake frosting smeared across the scruff of his chin. His benevolent nature as he pulled in drags of smoke, offering peace to the world in return with each outward breath. She pictured his hazel-gray eyes weighed down by heavy bags and a lifetime of failures. Despite that, his eyes persevered to retain their brightness.

He was tranquil amidst the turmoil of his life. Grateful despite his misfortune. In the middle of their war, he was a pacifist. A peacemaker.

He saw everything. He saw Peter as a brother. He saw Honey as a friend. He saw both of them as worth saving.

And now she saw the light fading from his eyes. “I can do this,” she whimpered weakly, tears spilling down her face. “It’s okay. I can fix this.”

“Honey—”

She paused, feeling the featherlike brush of Peter’s breath across her face. Hesitantly, she met his sorrowful gaze, her heart aching at the sight of tears trailing down his cheeks. He was silent, fixing her earnestly with a knowing look. He didn’t have to say anything. She could read the hopelessness written on his face.

There was no fixing this.

Somberly, they gazed at one another, both of them mirroring each other’s grief.

It was like her heart literally ripped in half. She struggled to keep her sobs muted, clamping her mouth closed.

“Y-you... sh-should e-eat a Peanut Butter co-cookie, or so-somethin.’” He grinned wide, his teeth stained red. Tears dripped from her chin as she hiccuped out a small smile through her anguish.

His eyes traveled from her face to Peter’s. Though he appeared more composed than Honey, Eddie knew what Peter looked like when he was in agony.

“T-tha-thank y-you-u,” Eddie shivered, staring up at Peter with love in his eyes, “for s-saving my life.”

Red-eyed, Peter winced like he’d swallowed glass. He breathed through his nose, afraid that if he opened his mouth his soul would spill out.

Eddie gazed at him with a lopsided, lazy grin. “Don’t b-be too ha-hard on yourself.” Another cough shook him, staining his lips even further. Peter released his hold on the wound to wrap Eddie’s hand in his fist. He held on tightly as if to steady him against a heavy current.

“S-s-so...” Eddie said, locking eyes with Peter. “Thank... you.”

Into the darkness, he drifted away.

To be continued...

{back to the masterlist}

A/N Sorry for the tearjerker cliffhanger! This story is coming to a close in just a few chapters (maybe 3 or 4). Thank you for sticking with me this long. I hope that the next chapter will have everything you've ever dreamed of.

#💬 sugar and vice #lizzy writes.#my love for these two characters runs deep #review angels 💜#peter parker #mob!tasm peter parker #mob!tasm #andrew garfield #i’m sobbing #and excited #you’ve killed us with angst liz #but it was soooo worth it

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annewritesfic · 4 years ago

Text

Happy Endings Don't Exist

i've decided to just keep the same title for all the tlc au stuff sjwjwjwjwj

anyways! so this is based off the end of cress, and for context:

- farrah lost her vision in a satellite crash when she hit her head

- erland is the doctor who figured out kate is selene

- chess has been taken captive by a thaumaturge, one of the queen's lackeys, and cairo is terrified for her

- also i don't know if i mentioned it but kate's a cyborg, a 36.98% ratio, left leg is metal pretty much halfway up their thigh, left hand is metal, a bunch of ribs, vertebrae, and half their heart are synthetic, and her eyes are synthetic with a control panel in the back of their head

- eva was supposed to marry levana today, but kate, reese, cairo, mattie, and farrah kidnapped her right before the wedding could start

okay yeah i think that's it

word count: 1703

triggers: mentions of blood/violence/death, mentions of massacre, mentions of a gun, mentions of torture

"It's me, Eva." Kate clenched both hands into fists and stared at their boots. "I'm the lost princess."

"Oh," Eva said softly. "Oh."

"And, um, in case it wasn't obvious, I was being sarcastic about being great," Kate said, unable to take the silence. "I mean- obviously, you've got your own stuff to worry about, but, like, it- it kind of has been a rough few weeks with the ball and Levana and my sister and Erland is dead and Chess is missing and Farrah is blind and Cairo is- I don't know. She's so still and I'm worried about her, but- don't worry, I've got this under contr-"

"Please stop talking."

Kate stopped talking.

Eva leaned against the wall and slowly slid down until she was sitting. "You. You're Princess Selene?"

"Yeah…"

"The whole time, it was you."

"I mean, I didn't know for awhile, either," Kate said. "Dr Erland figured it out first, but he didn't think to tell me until I was in prison, so…"

"Levana knows, doesn't she?" Eva seemed oddly calm, considering the bombshell Kate just dropped on her head. "That's why she's so fucking determined to find you."

"Yeah."

"And it was you this entire goddamn time."

"You know, you're taking this way better than I thought you would."

Eva leaned her head back against the wall, eyes closed. "It-it makes sense, kind of. In a weird way." She was quiet for a moment, then cracked a smile. "Although I always kinda pictured the princess, like… in a dress."

Kate managed a laugh. "That's probably not happening anytime soon."

"And I thought that if I could just… find her, it would be so easy. We'd present her to the world as the true queen of Luna, and Levana would just crawl and hide in a hole. I didn't think…" Eva took a shaking breath. "I never thought she'd know. That she'd be fighting it."

"I don't think you know your fiancée very well."

Eva's eyes opened, and she stared at Kate with a steady, determined gaze that made Kate forget to breathe for a moment. "Okay, no more secrets. I'm done with big reveals from you, so if there's anything else you're keeping from me, I wanna hear it now."

Kate thought for a moment. Big secrets… cyborg. Lunar. Princess. Eva knew it all.

Well, maybe one more secret. They might be just… a tiny bit in love with her.

But obviously she couldn't tell her that.

"I can't cry," they whispered, sitting down against the opposite wall.

"I knew that," Eva said.

"Wha- how?"

"Your guardian said something about it." Eva ran a fingernail up and down a metal seam on the floor, almost nervously. "And, um… I looked at your files. Your medical records."

"You what?"

"I'm sorry, but-but you were a fugitive and I needed to know more." Eva paused. "I didn't want to, though. I felt- it was too much of an invasion on your privacy. I'm sorry, Kate."

Kate fought to breathe slowly and steadily. "No, it's- no more secrets."

"Are your eyes really…?"

"Synthetic," Kate confirmed.

Eva moved a little closer across the floor. "And that's why you can't cry?"

"It's not like I need the tear ducts for lubrication, and they got in the way of… I have a retina scanner and like, a really small netscreen in my eye." Kate tapped one metal finger against the side of her head. "So there's a lot of wiring… fuck, I can't believe I'm telling you this."

"I think it's pretty fucking awesome."

A laugh ripped from Kate's throat, oddly pleasant.

Eva reached for Kate's hands. "Can I see?"

Kate rolled their eyes, but sighed and nodded. Eva stared into her eyes, almost like she was trying to see right through to Kate's control panel, but then she shook her head with an expression of wonder. "You'd never know."

Embarrassed, Kate bit her lip. "Look at the bottom of my left iris." They pulled up a news feed they'd been watching before the ship had even landed in New Beijing, from the African Union. She didn't bother turning on the volume, letting the news anchor stay muted.

"Wait, is that-"

"Yeah, that's it."

"It's tiny. Just- really just a dot."

"It looks bigger to me." Kate dismissed the news feed, trying not to think about how close Eva was, or how she was still holding their hands.

Eva studied Kate's face - not the retina scanner or the synthetic eyes, just Kate. "I'm sorry I had you arrested. But I really am glad you're alright."

"Don't you hate me for, you know… shooting you?"

Eva's lips twitched up into a smile. She dropped Kate's human hand to pick up the metal one in both hands, studying the tips of the shiny grey fingers. "You know, none of the diagrams I looked at said anything about a gun."

"I like to maintain an air of mystery."

"Funnily enough, I've noticed."

Kate bit their lip again. "The hand is new. It's… plated with one hundred percent titanium. And that's yet another thing I can't believe I'm telling you."

Eva lifted Kate's hand to her lips and pressed a kiss against the cool metal. "Kate?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Just to be sure, you're not manipulating me right now, right?"

"Of course not."

"Good. Just checking." Then Eva slid her arms around Kate's waist and kissed her.

Immediately, Kate's retina display went crazy. INCREASED LEVELS OF DOPAMINE AND ENDORPHINS. REDUCED AMOUNTS OF CORTISOL. ERRATIC PULSE. RISING BLOOD PRESSURE-

Kate dismissed the retina display and kissed back.

Eva shifted to sit back and pull Kate closer without even once breaking the kiss, and both of them smiled into it, relaxing after weeks of stress piling on both of them. Kate broke the kiss and pressed her forehead against Eva's, breathing easier than they had in weeks. Eva gently rubbed circles against Kate's back, calming and soothing, and even though every person on Earth was probably freaking out over the missing empress and determined to find them, Kate had never been calmer.

But then the retina display, alone against the darkness of Kate's closed eyes, caught their attention.

FARAFRAH.

LUNARS.

MASSACRE.

Kate pulled away, huddling against the wall, every happy emotion from kissing Eva quickly being replaced by panic and fear.

"Kate-"

Kate shook her head frantically, and Eva stopped talking for a moment.

"I'm sorry," she said after a pause. "I shouldn't have- shit, Kate, I'm so sorry-"

"No, that's not- it wasn't-" Kate dug their hands into their hair. "Levana."

Eva inhaled sharply. "What did she…?"

"She- she retaliated," Kate managed to say, focusing on the news feed. "She attacked- she attacked Farafrah, the- fuck, that's the town that helped us." The air went cold, and Kate tried desperately to process this. Pictures flashed across the display with so much blood.

"Kate-"

Kate grabbed a wrench and hurled it against the wall in frustration, then slumped against the wall, shaking.

"Has Levana issued any demands?" Eva asked, infuriatingly calm.

"I don't know." Kate grit her teeth. "But they're all dead, and it's my fault. Because they helped me."

"It's not-"

"It is my fault, Eva!"

"Kate, listen to me." A hand settled on her shoulder. "You didn't kill them."

"I basically did."

"Did they know the risk when they let you stay?"

Kate didn't say anything.

"Maybe they thought it was a risk worth taking. Because they believed in you."

"If you're trying to help, you're doing a really shitty job," Kate spat.

"Kate-"

"You wanna know another secret? The biggest secret?" Kate swallowed down the familiar lump in their throat that said you should be crying. Would be, if you were human. "I'm scared, Eva."

Those words hung in the air for a moment.

"I'm scared of her army, and of what she can do, and I'm supposed to be strong and brave but I don't know what I'm doing, I don't know how I'm supposed to overthrow her, and even if I did, I don't know how to be a queen. People are relying on me and now they're dying because of a fantasy that I can maybe save them, but- what if I can't?"

Eva pulled her into her arms, and Kate buried their face in her soft shirt, a headache pounding behind her eyes. "I'm scared."

"I know how you feel."

"Not really."

"Close to it, at least."

"No, because-" Kate curled her human fingers into Eva's shirt. "What if I'm becoming like her?"

"You aren't."

"How can you be so sure?" Kate demanded. "Because I manipulated soldiers in France. And your advisor today. And Cairo, and I- I keep thinking sacrifices have to be made for the good of everyone, right? And then there are the mirrors- I think I'm starting to get why she hates them so much." They started shaking. "And… I tortured her thaumaturge today. I tortured her. And I almost enjoyed it."

"Katie, look at me." Eva sat back and cupped Kate's face with one hand, staring into their eyes. "I know you're scared, and believe me, you're allowed to be. You have every right to be scared. But you are not Queen Levana."

"You can't know that."

"Yeah? I do."

"She's my aunt, you know."

"And my grandfather signed the Cyborg Protection Act." She brushed Kate's hair out of her face. "But here we are."

Kate almost smiled at that.

"Now, how about we never talk about you being related to her again? Because I'm technically still engaged to her, and that's really weird on so many levels."

Kate managed a laugh as Eva pulled them back into her arms. Her headache started to fade, and the news feed drifted out of their gaze. Even with the shit show of Kate's life… Eva felt safe.

"You won't tell anyone, right?"

"'course not."

"And if I'm a shitty princess?"

"I don't think Luna needs a princess. I think they need a revolutionary."

Kate turned that word over in their mind. "I like that more than princess."

"And then, once this is over, I do have some experience in the ruling-a-country field," Eva pointed out. "So I'll help you."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

#we are the tigers #kate dalton #eva sanchez #kateva #the lunar chronicles #blood tw #gun tw #violence tw #ask to tag #uhhhh yeah!#*yeets more tlc au*#also fucking tumblr mobile is barely functional

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slashyrogue · 4 years ago

Text

AU-gust Day #25: Circus AU

Will hated this.

He wiped his brow, sighed, and heaved another shovel full of shit into the back of the truck. This was his last favorite job since he’d started here, and yet he was always pushed back to do it.

Shovel shit, wash the elephants, and feed them.

It wasn’t the most glamorous, or even the most important but this kept him here.

Will hadn’t had a place to call home until a year ago, fresh out of the orphanage and no relatives to take him. No one wanted to hire an orphan, no matter how much shit he promised to shovel.

He was just about to heave the last shovel full of shit onto the truck when a voice cut through the quiet.

“You look as if you could use a drink.”

Will froze, his heart racing, and turned to see Hannibal standing against one of the trailers. He wore his pinstripe suit, top hat, and a smile but carried a glass of what looked to be lemonade in his hand.

“Um, thanks.”

He reached for the glass and their fingers brushed.

“You’re welcome, Will. This looks to be hard work.”

“It’s work,” Will mumbled, taking a long sip, “That’s all I care about.”

“Hmm.”

Hannibal took in the scene with barely covered disdain.

“I do wish Jack would allow you to be my assistant.”

Hannibal was the resident magician in Crawford Circus. He was amazing at magic, Will should know he’d seen his show so many times he could almost recite the lines, and he’d been doing it for almost ten years. Hannibal had offered Will an assistant gig when he first came to the circus but the owner, Jack Crawford had vetoed.

No one wanted to see a male assistant.

Especially not in this podunk towns.

Will knew it was the truth, but still he felt disappointed.

“It’s fine,” Will said, handing him the glass, “I’m getting good at this.”

“That you are,” Hannibal said, eyeing him, “It’s surely built up plenty of muscle.”

Will blushed. “Yeah,” he mumbled, “Um, did you need something?”

“Oh,” Hannibal said, “I was hoping when you’d finished that you could help me move the bed in my trailer. Bedelia is...out, so I have no extra hands to help me.”

Bedelia Du Maurier was Hannibal’s assistant. She was his fifth in ten years, but also the most outspoken. Will had seen them in arguments more than once that almost always ended in her stalking off. He wouldn’t be surprised if one day she never came back.

“Uh, yeah,” Will said, nodding,” I can help you when I’m done.”

“Splendid,” Hannibal purred, handing him the glass again, “Now it’s best if you finish this now so I can return the glass without Beverly’s wrath.”

Beverly Katz was both the cook and the lion tamer. She was also one of Will’s only close friends outside of Hannibal, who he wasn’t sure was a friend at all.

“She’ll be fine if it’s for me.”

“So you say,” Hannibal said, sighing, “Ms. Katz does not like my interference in that makeshift slophouse she calls a kitchen.”

Will laughed. “No, she doesn’t. But I’ll keep you safe.”

Hannibal smiled. “I’m sure you will.”

Will finished the rest of his lemonade, the taste nothing short of amazing, and he handed Hannibal the glass. Their fingers brushed again, and he licked his lips.

“Thanks. I’ll...come by after I’m done.”

“You’re welcome. I await your arrival.”

Hannibal bowed, as he almost always did, and left with a flourish.

Will had to get himself in shit shoveling mode again after he was gone, lost in thought of him, and when he finally got the last shovel full he drove to the woods to start dumping. It took a few more hours, and he was dead tired but still made his way through camp to Hannibal’s fancy trailer.

He had the biggest trailer in the whole circus, which was justified since he brought in the most money or so Will had heard. There had been talk of him getting his own HBO special at some point but Hannibal wasn’t interested in all that.

Hannibal just liked to wow the crowds.

He’d certainly wowed Will in the short time he’d been here.

Will didn’t bother to take a shower, he was so eager, and as he stood outside Hannibal’s trailer he second guessed himself. Hannibal wouldn’t want him smelling up his place like this.

“Shit.”

“Will?”

The door opened and Hannibal peered out at him. “How long have you been out here?”

“A few minutes. Look, I...”

“Is the shower not working? You may use mine if you’d like.”

Will blinked. “Um....”

“It’s no trouble at all and I can have clothes brought over for you.”

He nodded mutely and walked inside.

Hannibal’s trailer was the fanciest place Will had ever been inside. Everything glittered and glowed as he took it all in, and the further he went inside the better the sights to see.

“Thanks,” he said, still staring, “I finished up and just ran over. I didn’t think.”

Hannibal led him to the small bathroom at the back of the trailer. The shower was just big enough for one man, and Will immediately had thoughts in his head of Hannibal inside. “It’s quite alright. I’m happy you were so enthusiastic about helping me. The towels are there, freshly washed by my hand, and I will go see about your clothes.”

He left Will alone, and Will took off his smelly clothes before he stepped under the warm spray.

The shampoos and soaps all smelled like Hannibal, which only made Will more aroused. He forced himself not to touch his already aching cock, and showered fast when he realized Hannibal could return at any moment. The sound of the door opening just as he turned off the water made him freeze.

“I’ve brought you clean clothes.”

“Thanks,” Will said, shivering.

“Ms. Katz was very helpful and...”

“You can just leave them on the floor.”

Hannibal didn’t say anything for a moment, and Will could see the outline of his frame through the foggy glass. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he murmured, “Thanks!”

He waited another second before he left the bathroom and Will stepped out in a rush. Will hastily dressed, still shaking, and when he was done practically jumped out of the bathroom.

Hannibal was standing right outside.

“I’m glad you’re alright, I was worried.”

Will shivered, blushing. “I’m fine.”

“That’s good. Now the bed is right in here.”

They turned and he led Will to his small bedroom, which still somehow held a queen sized bed. He blinked.

“You want to move this?”

“Yes, I thought perhaps...over there.”

Hannibal pointed an inch to the left.

“Um...ok?”

“Thank you.”

Will wondered why Hannibal couldn’t just move this himself. The bed would easily push without help, and yet he thought maybe Hannibal had grown up so fancy he didn’t even know that.

That was probably it.

He pushed the bed over hard, and fell face down onto the mattress moving it just where Hannibal had asked.

“Excellent.”

Will moved to stand just as Hannibal did, and their feet got entangled making them both fall onto the bed together. He was on the bottom, staring up at at Hannibal, and the closeness made Will’s entire body burn like he’d been set on fire.

“I...apologize.”

He felt his own blush, but couldn’t seem to move. “It’s okay.”

Hannibal smiled. “Thank you for coming to help me.”

He nodded mutely.

“If there’s anything...”

Will felt his cock start to move and forced himself out from under him.

“I gotta go, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, it’s...alright. Thank you again!”

He ran out of Hannibal’s tent so fast he nearly tripped getting dirty again but stopped himself. The tent for those without big fancy trailers was way at the back of the camp, but he got there eventually, falling face down onto his cot.

“Fuck.”

Matthew Brown, a juggler, laughed at him. “Rough day, Graham?”

“Always.”

He and Matt didn’t exactly get along, but they weren’t enemies either.

“Where’d you run off to earlier?”

“I was helping Hannibal.”

Matt scoffed. “How is Mr. Fancy doing?”

“Fine,” Will said, taking off his shoes.

“Hmm. Your hair looks wet, did you...” he trailed off, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh god, no! He let me use his shower!”

Matt smiled. “I’m sure he did.”

Will threw a pillow at him. “Asshole.”

He flopped back down onto his cot, closed his eyes, and tried to think of anything that wasn’t Hannibal Lecter.

When he woke the next morning it was to chaos.

Bedelia Du Maurier, Hannibal’s assistant, hadn’t come home that night and left a note that she was leaving the act. They had less than six hours to find a replacement who could learn the act well, and play off Hannibal like he deserved.

“Will can do it!” Bev said, making everyone look at him.

Will’s face burned. “No, I...”

“Will’s seen the magician show like twenty times!” she joked, “He knows that shit backwards and forwards. He can do it, Jack!”

Jack glared at Hannibal. “No.”

“Jack...”

Will took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he stepped up. “I can do it, Sir.” He said, shaking, “I...I know what Hannibal needs. I really do.”

Jack sighed, running a hand over his face. “Shit. Fine,” he mumbled, “But you better know your stuff. I’m not having my biggest act bomb.”

Will smiled as the others all came up to congratulate him when Jack left and his eyes scanned the crowd for Hannibal. Hannibal watched him with that same sly gaze and his smile made Will’s heart beat faster.

He could do this.

For Hannibal, he’d do this.

Will wouldn’t let him down.

Not like Bedelia, or any of the others.

He’d be the perfect magician’s assistant...or die trying.

#au_gust_2020 #hannigram au #circus au #yeah it's what you think it is lol

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lake-arrius-caverns · 4 years ago

Text

Prologue - pt 1

content warnings strong language (including the c word)

so i lied im posting it today

here it is, the first part of the prologue and roughly the point where things started to go to shit for the twins 👌 a short one but next part will be posted Sunday!

featuring lots of background characters and bad language (these kids have no decency)

read under the cut or on AO3, cheers 👍

:: First :: || << Previous << || >> Next >> || :: Masterpost ::

— — — — — — — — — —

“Does anyone believe in prophecy? Or destiny?”

Silence overtook the makeshift camp following the question, directed at nobody in particular. For a few seconds none of the group spoke, the only sound being the merry crackling of the fire sitting on the shoreline of the Imperial City Waterfront. All eyes were now on the ginger Breton, Merrick, whose expression was rather blank as he stared at the fire, lost in deep thought. Absently he petted the head of a large black and grey dog that sat beside him, her tail wagging lazily with contentment.

“What brought that on?” asked a Dunmer, Nari, her brow raised inquisitively.

Merrick finally looked up, catching Nari’s eye and shrugging. “Don’t know. Just... something I read-“

“Oh, look out. Merrick’s been reading again!” Fahjoth, another Dunmer, teased as he ran his fingers through his choppy black hair, eliciting a round of laughter from the gathered crowd. Their number was modest tonight - most appeared to be off doing their own thing, if they weren’t currently incarcerated.

“Wonder which book he nicked this time?” Cassius, a fair-haired Imperial and the de-facto group leader, smirked at Merrick. Despite his young age, he was a talented strategist and thus far the group had thrived under his competent tactics.

Merrick’s freckled cheeks flushed bright pink and he opened his mouth to argue, before settling on a pout instead as he drew a black leatherbound book out from his satchel.

“It’s The Book of the Dragonborn,” he explained, opening the book and thumbing absently through the pages. “It details the contents of an Elder Scroll-“

“The fuck is an Elder Scroll?”

“-and the prophecy written in it,” Merrick continued, smiling slightly as his dog buried her nose in his hand. “It’s really interesting. But I’m not sure what to think about the concept of predeterminism and all that.”

“Merrick, mate...” Cassius said. “No offence, but I don’t think anyone here knows what the fuck you’re talking about.”

Before Merrick could respond, a rustling from the bushes nearby caught everyone’s attention and instantly put everyone on edge - but the group heaved a collective sigh of relief when a third Dunmer, bearing a striking similarity to Fahjoth, emerged in the shadows, hauling a rather large sack along with them.

“Ey, there she is!” Fahjoth exclaimed cheerfully, ��What’ve you-“

As quickly as the previous tension left, it doubled back, more palpable than ever. Now illuminated by the glow of the fire, her grave countenance eased into wary relief as she approached, yet did not leave entirely.

“And she’s alone,” Cassius remarked, suspicion evident in word and gaze.

“We lost Shorbjorn,” Ribyna said dully, dropping onto the grass besides Fahjoth and resting her head on her hand. Fahjoth’s face fell in mirrored grief, and he immediately offered his twin a bottle of brandy. Ribyna accepted the drink without a second glance and began to drink without hesitation.

“Ribyna?” Cassius prompted after a few seconds of deafening silence. “What the fuck happened?”

Ribyna’s expression was stony as she eventually responded. “We were seen. Bad timing. The fucker called for the city guard and about 10 of them all came running. That cunt of a captain, Rusant. He was there.”

A murmur of displeasure rippled throughout the gathering. An altercation with the newly-appointed captain of the city guard, Leonius Rusant, did not bode well for anyone unlucky enough to be involved. “And?” Cassius frowned. “What then? You’re both fast, what was the problem?”

“Shorbjorn tripped. That’s what the problem was,” Ribyna answered. “They were on him like flies on shit in seconds. He yelled for me to keep running, so I did...”

Once again a somber silence fell over the group, before Abik, a Redguard, spoke up in a low, gravelly tone.

“It’s alright. It’s only petty theft- he’ll get one, maybe two years at the most-” he began, cautious, but Ribyna only cut him off with a dry scoff devoid of humor.

“Nah. Shorbjorn decided to fight back. Decked the Captain right in the face. Busted his nose. I heard Rusant - ’I’ll see you hung for that!’”

Once again, a heavy quiet settled over the once cheerful camp, everyone’s faces now reflecting sorrow or anger or a combination of the two. Eventually, the silence was broken by a small Argonian.

“And you just ran?!” Taneen-Mil spat indignantly at Ribyna, who instantly tensed her shoulders and glared back at him. “You could’ve helped him!”

“And got myself arrested as well?!” Ribyna snapped back. “Yeah, that would’ve been fucking helpful! You would’ve had a shitload of fun starving for a week without any food!”

“Guys,” Abik interrupted before the confrontation could escalate any further, scratching his beard with exasperation. “Quiet. Taneen, Ribyna wouldn’t have stood a chance. She did right by running away.”

Taneen couldn’t argue, and so he simply settled into a huffing silence. A few moments later though, he stood up. “I’m going to bed,” he announced bitterly. “See you tomorrow.”

Not long after he departed, the other group members also stood up and bid their various farewells. Before leaving, one of them, a dark-haired Imperial named Vykstrus, stared grimly at Merrick.

“This is why the whole prophecy, destiny, whatever thing is bullshit. You reckon Shorbjorn was destined to die like this?”

“Leave it, Vyk,” the Bosmer Aerlewen murmured. “Come on.”

A younger Bosmer, Siriel, cast a melancholy look back towards the group, before they too slunk away and disappeared into the shadows after the others. Eventually, all that remained was Cassius, Fahjoth, Abik, Merrick and Ribyna, the latter of which was still seething judging by the sour look on her face. Merrick gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“You don’t blame yourself, do you?” he asked, looking mournful himself. Ribyna didn’t respond for a few moments, but eventually she heaved a despondent sigh.

“I do wonder if... if there was something I could’ve done,” she admitted. Abik was quick to reassure her.

“Course not. You were outnumbered five to one, kid,” he pointed out. “That’s the way of life for us out here. Either you’re fast and agile enough to escape, or you get caught. Simple as that.“

Ribyna still looked troubled, so Fahjoth pulled her into a rough, one-armed hug. “We’re just glad you made it back safe,” he told her. “What would I have done without my little nuisance, eh?”

Ribyna managed a small grin at that, playfully pushing Fahjoth away. Cassius, despite still looking disappointed, nodded in agreement. “They’re right. It’s better to lose one of us than to lose two.” Eventually he stood up, looking down at Fahjoth curiously. “I’m off. You coming?”

Fahjoth shook his head. “I think I’ll stay here tonight.” He shot a subtle glance towards his twin and back, and Cassius nodded in understanding.

“Yeah, don’t worry. See you tomorrow then.” He leaned down briefly to give Fahjoth a kiss, before turning and pacing quietly away into the darkness.

Abik stood with his hands in his pockets, staring thoughtfully up at the stars. “Someone‘s gonna.. take care of Rusant before long, you mark my words,” he said. “Maybe the Gray Fox will step in, if we’re lucky. All I know is.. things can’t keep on like this.” After stretching with a roll of his shoulders, he turned his gaze down to Merrick. “You ready, Merrick?”

Merrick slowly nodded, watching Ribyna with concern. “Yeah...” He slowly got to his feet and rubbed Ribyna’s shoulder sympathetically. “Try not to worry, Ribyna. It wasn’t your fault, ok?”

Ribyna looked up at Merrick, touching his hand with her own and managing a small smile of gratitude. “Yeah... cheers, mate. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye. Come, Pip.” Merrick headed off in Abik’s wake with his dog trotting along beside him, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to throw a smile or a wave at the twins. Ribyna watched him go, then turned to Fahjoth.

“You didn’t have to stay with me, y’know,” she pointed out. “I’m fine.”

Fahjoth chuckled dryly. “It’s fine. I wanted to. I can get some anytime.”

Ribyna wrinkled her nose in distaste and chortled. “Too much information, bro. Gods, you’re a humble bastard, aren’t you?”

“You know it.” Fahjoth grinned, but then his face fell into a worried frown. “You had a close call tonight, y’know. You’ll have to be more careful in future.”

“Really? I was thinking of going in with a blindfold on next time.”

“I’m serious,” Fahjoth sighed. “We’ve been lucky so far, but more and more of us are getting nicked by the day. Sorak, Pif and now Shorbjorn...” He lapsed into silence, staring into the flames for a few moments. “Right, come on then. Let’s get some sleep ourselves.”

Fahjoth stood up and tossed a nearby bucket of water on the woodpile, extinguishing the fire and plunging them into darkness. Once their eyes became used to the gloom, the Waterfront was bathed in the cool silver glow of the waning moons above. “Let’s hope those bastard rats haven’t chewed through our shit again.”

Ribyna nodded mutely, hauling herself to her feet and trudging after her twin brother towards shelter. Despite her friends’ reassurances, there was a heavy weight in her gut that just wouldn’t shift, the night’s events replaying over and over in her mind until eventually she would find sleep.

#oc: fahjoth #oc: ribyna #tes #tes fic #morrowind #dunmer #dunmer oc #nerevarine #elder scrolls #elder scrolls fanfiction #TES III: Morrowind

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katelinartjoker · 5 years ago

Text

I have a C•O•N•D•I•T•I•O•N (pt 2)

Arthur Fleck x Reader smut NSFW

He could have kissed her for hours like that, and he would have been satisfied. But she apparently had much more planned for them as she suddenly climbed on top of him and straddled him as she deepened their kiss, this time with much more passion and urgency.

“Mmm~~!” She moaned as she grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him closer to her. It was all happening so fast that he could feel another one of his laughing fits coming on and he worried it would get in the way and cause her to give up on her advances. He took a deep breath and tried to relax, resting his hands on her shoulders as he did his best to focus on staying calm. She must have noticed because she pulled away, just slightly and looked at him with concern in her eyes.

“We don’t have to keep going at this pace if you need to slow down, Arthur. I can wait for you,” she said in a loving tone.

‘My god, when did I ever get lucky enough to find someone like you?!’ He thought to himself.

“I just... need a moment, that’s all,” he struggled to say, and to his surprise, she just sat there, running her one of her hands through his hair while she tried to comfort him.

“Just tell me what you need, okay? I’m doing this as much for you as I am for me, you know,” she said with a naughty smile. And with that, for some reason, he felt himself calming down as his nerves practically disappeared. Now all he could think about was experiencing more of her, as much as he could take of what she was willing to give.

“Okay, I think I’m good now,” he said with a reassuring smile. She returned his smile with a seductive one of her own.

“I’m glad, Arthur. Now, where were we?” She said, leaning in close to him again. Slowly this time, as to not overwhelm him. But he just stared at her with a hungry urge in his eyes, as he softly bit his lower lip. He wanted so desperately to taste her again, among other things he was sure would come. She kissed his lips softly before increasing her urgency as the two of them moaned and played with each other’s messy hair. God, her taste was intoxicating. Everything about her was. He could feel the weight of her body on his as she sat in his lap, could feel her soft breasts under her shirt as she leaned up against him. He was doing everything he could not to grab her and completely ravage her right then and there, but he also wanted to take his time. He was still having a hard time believing this was all really happening, or that she was even actually real, and not just a figment of his imagination, like he’s done before.

However, those had never felt as real as this before...

He moved his arms down from her hair to her shoulders, but then hesitated to go further. She must have sensed his nerves because she pulled away from the kiss and took his wrists and lowered his hands down to her chest.

“You don’t have to be so nervous around me Arthur, okay? I hereby give you permission to touch any part of my body. And I mean ANYWHERE.” She said with a seductive tone. He smiled at her as he squeezed her breasts. Well, these most certainly felt real to him.

“Why are you doing this for me?” He asked her. “I mean, why me?”

“Oh Arthur, haven’t you figured it out by now?” She said, before suddenly removing her top and bra at the same time, revealing the most gorgeous breasts he’d ever seen, even compared to the ones in magazines.

“I like you, Arthur,” she said, leaning in to kiss him again. “I have ever since I met you, silly.”

Hearing that made Arthur smile, and gave him a boost of confidence, because he leaned in and began to suck at her perky breasts as he played with them. He groaned as he tasted her smooth skin, unable to get enough of her.

“My god...” he moaned as he kissed her and sucked mouthfuls of her perfect breasts, wrapping his arms around her back and burying his face in her chest. This seemed to excite her even more as she whimpered and cried out his name several times before reaching down and wrapping he fingers around the growing bulge in his pants, causing him to flinch. They both laughed as he did so, and returned to kissing before she removed his shirt, so that their bare skin was touching as they swapped more saliva and explored each others mouths with their tongues.

He still couldn’t believe he had gotten so lucky to be with a woman as beautiful and exciting as her. He also found it hard to believe that he had yet to scare or bore her away. Just where had she been all of his life?!

“Where have you been all my life, Arthur?” She said, as if she’d just read his mind. He smiled and pulled her in close to him.

“I could ask you the same thing, you know!” He said, before reaching out to pull her back in for another kiss. As he did so, he accidentally lost his balance, and they both tumbled to the floor.

As they were laughing, she suddenly climbed on top of him and began to pull his jeans off, which made him breath in sharply.

“I hope this is okay?” She asked him, hesitating for a moment as she looked at him and waited for his permission.

“Of.. course! I just... I’ve never really done this before... I don’t know if I already told you, but... I’m kind of a virgin,” he said, expecting her to laugh, and give up on him. But to his luck, she didn’t. She only nodded.

“That’s okay. I haven’t done it in a long time, so I guess it will be good for both of us.” She said as she continued to pull his pants and underwear down, revealing his thick, bulging cock. Her eyes grew wide and she looked up at him with excitement.

“I don’t see why you’ve never done this before, Arthur. You’re HUGE!” She said. “Well then, that’s good news for me!”

He stared down at her and watched as she took his fully erect member in her hand and began to stroke it, causing his entire body to tense up with pleasure. He groaned quietly and tried not to close his eyes so that he wouldn’t miss any of the fun. To his delight, she lowered her mouth and slowly began to lick the tip of his cock as she stared up at him with her big, bright, seductive eyes, making him choke and moan out in pleasure as he bucked his hips in the hair. She giggled and began sucking him, slowly but sensually as she watched his reactions, which increased in intensity the more of him she swallowed.

“Oh my god...” he moaned as he stared at her and placed his hand on her head, closing his eyes only when the pleasure became over whelming, or when she increased the pace and bobbed her head up and down even faster, using her tongue to massage the lower section of his shaft. He cried out her name and bucked his hips several more times as he felt himself reaching climax, though he tried to hold back for as long as he could. She pumped his cock a few more times before pulling her mouth away from him, which created a popping sound as she sat up and began to remove the remainder of her clothes as well.

“Now, I think we should take it to the next level, don’t you, Arthur?” She said as she positioned herself on top of him and leaned down to kiss him as she slowly worked his cock into her soaked pussy.

“Nnngh!” He groaned, his head falling back to the floor as he felt her warm, velvet walls wrap around his hardened cock before squeezing it tightly. “Holy shit!” He cursed as he placed his hands on her back and closed his eyes as he tried not to cum immediately from the sudden overwhelming pleasure. He heard her giggle, and she began to rock her hips up and down slowly, as to make sure she didn’t overdo it right in the beginning.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take my time with you, Arthur,” she said with another laugh. A sound that had become music to his ears. “We don’t want this to end too soon, now, do we?”

“No... we don’t,” he struggled to say as he took deep breaths while she bounced on top of him. He finally opened his eyes again and watched her body move on top of his. It was the most incredible and amazing thing he had ever seen - and felt before in his entire life. He never wanted this to end. He reached up to grab her hips and held onto them as she slowly increased her pace, moaning each time she sat down on his cock and it filled her up completely.

“Oh my god, Arthur! You’re so big!” She screamed. “You feel so good inside me!”

He didn’t know what to say, he just held onto her hips and moved one hand to stimulate her clit, a move he’d seen in some of the porn he’d watched before. She apparently enjoyed this and threw her head back, whimpering as she rode him even faster.

“You... you like that?” He said, trying to come up with something to say so that he wasn’t just mute the entire time.

“Yes! I fucking love it!” She screamed and leaned down to kiss him passionately again. “I love you, Arthur!”

“I love you, too, (Y/N)!” He said before kissing her back, suddenly feeling a rush of pleasure and lust as he rolled her off of him and climbed on top of her. He leaned down and smiled as he put his arms under her legs and lifted her hips up, inserting his cock deep inside her again with ease and held onto her as she gasped before she screamed out in pleasure.

“Now,” he said, gasping for air. “It’s my turn to fuck you senseless!” He said, feeling a sense of bravery come over himself. He hoped she wouldn’t mind it and as he looked into her eyes - which were staring back at him filled with lust - he knew she didn’t.

“Good,” he laughed as he thrusted into her - hard. Relentlessly, and passionately. He made the two of them scream out in unison as he drilled deeper into her pussy. Soon he was reaching her very core and she was whimpering as her legs began to tremble. It wasn’t long before he felt her entire body shaking under his and he felt her inner walls clench down on him as she reached her climax, leading to his orgasm not too long after. It was the greatest feeling he’d ever experienced in his entire life, putting all the times he’d climaxed alone to shame as he shared such a beautiful moment with someone as gorgeous and passionate as her. He hoped it wouldn’t be their last as he laid down next to her to catch his breath.

“That... was incredible!” She said, as she rested her head on his chest and looked up at him, a curious expression in her eyes. “You sure you weren’t a virgin before that?”

“I’m sure,” he said as he laughed, and closed his eyes. Hopefully this would be the first of many times they would make love in their new found friendship.

THE END

#arthur fleck #joaquin phoenix joker #joker fandom #joker 2019 #arthur fleck x reader #joker movie #joker x you #joker x reader #joker fanfiction #arthur fleck smut

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empressxmachina · 4 years ago

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Sideline - “iv.”

“Uh, h-hi, Jake.”

Just by looking at each other, they both knew the same opinion was going through their heads:

‘This was fucking weird.’

Despite that, neither of them lost sense of their humanities, and Madi didn’t appear physically hurt as a cherry on top. They solely changed sizes comparatively and nothing else, as far as they could tell. But for the smaller half of the pair to get even tinier at such a large scale was ridiculous, more than either of them ever imagined. Nevertheless, they tried to keep it together for both of their sakes.

Jake slowly continued to unravel Madi from her textile prison, eventually smoothly transferring her from fabric to flesh and feeling her skin and scarily little weight on his palm. The visual of his long fingers towering above and able to curl over her was also quite nauseating. But chundering by a friend, especially one as close to him as her (in every sense), would not be a good look.

For this to happen to someone as sweet as her and it being possible at all just made him sick and confused.

“Holy shit, Madi,” he breathed, blowing her hair back with his voice. For once in his life, he was glad to have chosen water over a soda earlier. Even if it wasn’t the same kind – the one Madi had wasn’t a favorite of his from the get-go – spreading anything across her that would drill this in her more than it already had would’ve shot his already high guilt and pity further into the sky. “How in the fuck—?”

“Ugh, do I really need to explain this again!?” Madi exploded, now second-guessing her assumptions of Jake’s intelligence. Perhaps he was more the jock stereotype than she thought with the flinching and look of astonishment by which he reacted to her, both of which shaking her as well. “What part of ‘A fucking soda did this to me’ did you not understand? If you didn’t get that, then why in fuck did you pull that shit? Did you really just want to get it off me? Did you think you’d get me off by getting it off me? Did you make me wet to get YOU off!?”

“Jesus Christ, Madeline. Chill,” Jake shushed her in a fruity voice, putting his snake-like finger up to his mouth before bringing it close to hers – his fingertip eclipsing her entire head. “I know the fucking soda did this to you; I want to know why. What kind of chemical makes people shrink and shit?” Madi couldn’t help cringing, curling into herself, having overreacted for no reason. However, her cowering soon became a cover for the blushes that Jake then caused to appear. “As for the, uh, ‘getting off,’ you’d have to be some kind of freak to get off to a doll or, I guess, being a doll, in your case. Though I’ve got to say, you are pretty adorable, Mads.”

“Please, no,” she pleaded, slumping her shoulders with her face still in hiding, knowing that her smallness was now a large part of her, despite how much she wanted it to be otherwise. “I know I probably don’t look so human, but I’d still like to be treated like one, ass wipe.”

“‘Look’ is just the tip of the iceberg. I’m not the biochemist here, but I think I know enough science to know that you shouldn’t even be functioning fully: talking, hearing, seeing, and all of that good shit.” Jake brought his Madi-holding hand closer to himself as he extended his syllables and examined her in astonishment. “What. The. Fuck?”

Meanwhile, Madi instinctively scooted further and further into the flesh wall Jake’s fingers made behind her, even though she couldn’t go anywhere else without falling to her demise and knew it, too. The thought of being overtaken by his battering ram nose or brushed by his enviable eyelashes without him even trying was just too much for the little lass.

“Yeah, uh, could you, like, not with that? ” she attempted, nearly meeting the stubble surrounding Jake’s lips and chin before he looked down at her, noticed her apprehension, and backed off, bringing her to a somewhat distant, somewhat calming eye level. “Thank you. Being comparatively short to most people in normal life was hard enough, even though I was supposedly average on charts. The last thing I need now is a close-up, okay?”

“Right. Sorry,” Jake apologized, even noting to talk more sotto voce.

Just because she wasn’t flinching at his volume for whatever reason, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t still loud. Sure, the packed stadiums and arenas for games and competitions with their high volumes probably set a standard for her, but Jake knew that this could’ve been another type of noise, and then one could add all the nonsense the body does on its own to make it even louder and more detailed. He wondered how much she could hear and see now.

“It just makes no sense how you’re like this,” he reinforced. “You’re fucking minuscule.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Madi scoffed back, also lowering her own voice but still audible to the relative giant’s ears. “I think that’s been stated enough.” Her tough outer shell hid how hard the truth just kept hitting her. Seeing nearly all her curled-up frame in her reflection in Jake’s eyes was almost vomit-inducing, especially when he rolled them in response to her sass.

“Yeah, but do you really know how tiny you are? Do you know what could happen to you like this or what could’ve happened? Hell, I don’t even know how that fucking phone of yours called me,” he said, lightly nudging it out of Madi’s grasp onto his palm next to her, somehow also muting it in the process. “I can barely see the thing. I could barely see you by that can. But I did, so everything’s pretty much going in your favor so far, huh?”

“How about no? I’m still like this, and it’s not like I didn’t already have enough stress going on in my life.”

“Well, I’m sure there’s a way to fix this, probably one as quick and obtainable as whatever in that drink caused this. We need to get you out of here, first.”

“And, exactly how did you plan on doing that?” Madi pondered aloud, noticing how Jake had nothing with him, aside from his clothes.

“Oh, uh, er—” Jake struggled to come up with an answer as Madi’s scenario hadn’t been a possibility that he had or would’ve considered. Since these were the cards he was dealt, he wasn’t sure what to do with them. “Shit, what are we going to do?”

“‘We?’ Why are you asking me? Jake, you know I can’t do anything! Look at me!”

“Don’t blame me for that! This is a two-way street, and you could’ve fucking warned me about this!”

“Are you saying that you would’ve believed that a fucking soda fucking shrunk me to…” Madi paused to estimate her new size. Through all the time she had had to adjust to it, figuring a number for it never came to mind. However, remembering how much of a mountain Jake was to most people, she soon realized that basing her little length on his large one was futile. “…whatever size I am now? You barely believed that I was here full-sized when you walked in! What the fuck would you have done differently!?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe brought a fucking bag or some shit?” Jake countered. “You didn’t need to open the fucking soda, Madi!”

“Are you blaming me for this!?” Madi shrieked, not wanting more negativity placed on herself. She ran her hands through her hair before setting them on her face and continuing, muffled, “What did I do to deserve this!?”

“This wouldn’t have happened, otherwise, would it!?” Jake barked back before immediately regretting what he said – it made evident by his elongated face and Madi’s trembling. “No, I-I didn’t mean that. Well, I kind of did but not to hurt you. This… This is just crazy, alright? I don’t even get why a recalled drink was even still available to you so late in the game, literally.” He then attempted to console her, curling his free hand directly behind her back as an assuring gesture, mostly because he was sure anything else would damage her. “I know you did nothing wrong. This probably could’ve happened to anyone, and don’t you worry. This will pass, and, just like you wanted, I’ve got you.”

Although she was unsure of whether or not that was meant to be an apology, Madi pulled her hands away at his sweet remarks, and for the first time since they had first met, she saw Jake with not only beauty but also novel capability. He hadn’t been so profound with her since their one class together way back when. Any overshadowing thoughts she had about him being a typical jock went right out the window, and she had never felt more blessed to have a friend.

However, she wasn’t as appreciative of his following comments, and the smile that shined on her face soon vanished.

“But, really, how do you want to do this?” Jake inquired. “I ask because I, uh…” He paused with a groan, not sure how to explain himself without making their scenario any more dramatic than it already was. “…I have one idea, but I think any of yours would probably be better.”

Madi, having watched him remove the hand behind her and slide it down from his nose to his chin, sensed that his something, whatever it was, might be bothering him but couldn’t tell why or be sure. Yet, knowing that the time without being noticed by nasty Nash outsiders was running out, she just went with it.

“Okay?” she accepted cautiously. “Well, I really don’t want people to know about this, so the safer and more hidden I am, the better.”

Jake attempted to hide his discomfort with her answer. His idea had technically aligned with her wants, but he had this feeling that she was not going to like it one bit.

“Alright,” he could only sheepishly respond. “Well, um, you’re the science major, so you, er, go on and figure out what’s best for you, whatever you want to do.”

“Sure.” Her reply was positive, and now she was just as positive that Jake had not only a bother but a problem. Another big problem within her oversized insanity; how wonderful. But rather than letting it boil over, she let it simmer in her subconscious, followed his suggestion, and began thinking of places to hide with him.

It took an uncomfortably short period to realize hiding with him more so meant hiding on him. Madi managed to keep a cringe inside and prayed Jake’s notion had nothing to do with that via some trap card out of his ass. Still, despite her ingenuity, she couldn’t think of one, and, like with all those math proofs from last year, she could only work with what she was given. In any other circumstance, having Jackson Averill at her will would be a dream, but the fairy-like femme floated in a nightmare… or purgatory… whichever was worse.

No possible, present view gave Madi a full vision of what or, more validly, who to plan from. He was so much to take in at once, so she asked to better see it all.

“Um,” she beckoned, “can I check out the vehicle provided for me?”

Initially, Jake didn’t catch her drift, but it didn’t take him long to click and nearly blush at her wording. It wouldn’t be the first time she called him a ride, and while this was something else, her maintained humor was a relief.

He gave her in return a prying smirk as if to ask ‘How?’, and all Madi had to do back was a couple of motions for him to become a model. She fluttered her hands his way to get him to back up, stopping when he reached the end of their row of benches. A lowering motion then directed him to set her down on said end bench. Words couldn’t describe her gratitude in knowing that if her voice or any tiny sounds she made went inaudible to his ears or any normal-sized ones were too much for her, then they would still be able to communicate somewhat.

If he stayed alert for her. God forbid him from getting distracted.

As she shook that fear out of existence, and once she and her things were gently set onto the hard surface, Jake gave her a bit more space and took a few more steps backward so that she could see him all at once. With her new perspective, really trying to not depress herself over her lack of creaking and noticeable shadow on contact, her primal instincts kicked in, unable to handle the visage of an Adonis in front of her.

Like his facial features, the years of football and weight training had done wonders for his physique. While Madi had already seen sides of him that only a few were blessed enough to observe, seeing their outlines and envisioning them bare and visible at this scale gave her chills.

Madi gestured for Jake to spin around to check if he genuinely had no pockets. Upon one rotation, especially with his phone snapped to his pelvis under his waistband, she sadly confirmed her hypothesis with a sigh – a bitter contrast to the gasp she gave to the sight of his global glutes. He truly lived up to his tight end position in and out of sports, and Madi would need a thesaurus made for a postdoc to describe his front side. The things his body had done to hers were incomparable to present possibilities, and she didn’t know how to feel.

Little did she know that Jake was pondering the same thing.

When the giant jock came back around from his turn, rather than seeing an inquisitive Madeline, he found a disgruntled one instead, and the smug look on his face fell off. Jake could only figure that her suspicions had finally meshed with his, and thus he slowly crept up and knelt on one knee before her to not frighten her even more.

“Have you come up with anything?” he asked timidly, resting his forearms on his level thigh.

“Only if your teammates aren’t as rowdy on a bus ride as they are on the field,” Madi remarked, looking up at him in bittersweet wonder, knowing fully well that if someone shook him around while she was on his person, then she’d be in deep shit. “What chance do I have of getting back to Kingston alive if I went under your hat or by your collar or something?”

“Uh, well, if we had lost tonight, I’d guess 75% or so?” Jake calculated, rubbing his chin in thought. “No one would probably want to talk about it, and they’d keep to themselves unless Coach decided to bag on everyone, which would only get them even more in their feelings.”

But they didn’t lose. If Madi hadn’t been following the score while caring for Cari, the Knights’ sore losers’ chaos she ran through that erupted afterward was enough of a tell on its own, and the look on Jake’s face made her brace for the celebratory yikes that was likely the Royals on their side.

“But the bus was lit as all fuck when I left it,” Jake continued, “and I can already envision Coach or Big Q tousling my hair or Chad going in for a chest bump once I get back. Hell, he gave me three on the field after my scoring play alone, so, uh, I’d rather not risk it.”

“Well, fuck!” Madi cursed herself, kicking her bag off her ledge in anger. Luckily, Jake was watching her every move intently and moved quickly enough to catch it. Otherwise, they both would’ve most likely forgotten it there for some soul to find, trash, or worse. He was even kind enough to carefully put her fallen clothes and phone in it for her, feeling less like storing doll accessories and more like spice sprinkling than his liking. Madi, meanwhile, was fuming too much to notice. “You might as well give me your idea, then,” she succumbed. “We don’t have much time for much else.”

“You know this could’ve been a lot easier on both of us if you had just let me bring backup,” Jake reminded her, setting her bag back down next to her and hoping to God that she’d just let him call someone for help.

“Don’t try to diverge from this by bringing up something you had control over – still have control over,” she countered, crossing her arms and cocking her head to the side. As sweet as his situational submission of silence was, she couldn’t physically stop him from doing anything if she tried. Not that she could before, but she definitely couldn’t now. “I saw you fumbling with yourself about something, and if it’s about this, then it can’t be much worse than what I’m already going through, right? Just lay it on me, dude.”

Jake sighed at her relentlessness, recognizing that she still had so much force, so much determination, even with such diminutive dimensions. She had moxie, and he liked that. He liked it so much that he was willing to put her wishes over his own and keep her new look a secret, for now, despite how dumb doing so actually was.

“Can you just promise me to not say anything until I explain it fully?” Jake hoped with a defensive slump and scrunching face. “It’ll make sense with the backstory… probably.”

If one could even call it that, his preface wasn’t much, and the time to ponder it was slim to none. But Madi hadn’t yet a reason to not trust his judgment – the calamity with the cleaners was questionable but not totally repulsive – thus, she shrugged, expressing her tolerance.

Like her with him previously, Jake knew that he wasn’t going to get better out of her, and so he began. “Okay. I have an idea, and, frankly, it’s some divine intervention or some bullshit how this shit with you had to happen on the one day I decided to be a stylish bastard.”

#g/t #my writing #sideline #sw #giant male #sports and smut; what it do?#happy new year!

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squidprinceofwinterfell · 5 years ago

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Stick of Truth Commentary

Intro

Intro cut scene is a nice touch! The animation is nice, and it adds story and stakes to the game the boys are playing. Reminds me of “Lord of the Rings.”

I like how the boys see the stick as a golden staff, but it’s literally just…a stick.

Create your character

Fighter, Mage, Thief, Jew – which is the best and why?

Intro to New Kid and family

Dialogue between parents creates an ominous backstory. Who is looking for New Kid and why?

New Kid is a mute weirdo and I love it.

The first quest (making friends) reminds me of “The Sandlot.”

The shitting feature is awesome.

New Kid meets Butters and is brought to KKK

What exactly is the power of diabetes?

Chekov’s Clyde!

It’s cute how cool everyone is with Princess Kenny.

I like that every player is called Douchebag, but I wish every player didn’t have to play as a boy.

Elves attack

Funny how Cartman’s alarm is just Butters yelling “Alarm!”

Cartman has pretty good commentary when New Kid is fighting. I actually miss that later on.

How did the elves snag the stick? Either Clyde is a bad watchdog or Kyle is super strategic. I choose both.

New Kid must find Token, Tweek, and Craig

Token

I never knew Token was so rich that he had security! It’s probably to keep Cartman out.

I love that Token’s property is calling Dark Meadows.

Token: “The elves took the stick again?” Haha!

Tweek

Tweek is the only employee at Tweek Bros.? That’s called child labor!

I love that Mrs. McCormick thinks the meth heads in her garage are just nice renters. Is she being paid in meth?

Why would a 10-year-old boy be an undercover cop? Only in South Park.

Tweek was totally named after the word “tweeker.”

Craig

Craig is in detention for (of course) flipping off the principal. Is Principal Victoria still principal at this point?

Craig’s alias is Feldspar the Thief? I refuse to believe this isn’t a reference to Malcolm in the Middle.

On the “thief” option at the beginning, Cartman says he’s never seen a white thief before, yet Craig is a thief. Hmm…

“Heeeere they come…I’ll be outta here in ten minutes.” Smug, snarky Craig is the best Craig.

I like that Mackey seems to know he’s in a video game (by referencing the boss fight). It’s very Deadpool.

The Bard

The Inn of the Giggling Donkey is just Jimmy’s house. His living room is convincing as a bar/lounge/hangout.

Twitter = carrier raven

“There once was a maiden from Stonebury Hollow / She didn’t talk much, but boy did she swallow / I had a nice lance that she sat upon / The maiden from Stonebury who was also your mom.” I love Jimmy’s songs!

Butters: “No hurry, Douchebag. The princess is just being raped.” OMG

An elf was jumping on the bed to simulate raping Princess Kenny? The boys are really committed to this game.

Cartman: “Good job, Princess Gone Wild. Double D buddy powers.” Kenny flashing his man boobs is the best distraction tactic.

The Brown Note is Jimmy’s best attack.

“Welcome to the KKK!”

Alien abduction

Cartman’s fart lessons finally come in handy! New Kid’s ass is too strong to be probed.

I love that alien abduction is viewed as just another annoying part of living in South Park.

The guy from the recordings is the hobo hidden onboard, right?

The Nazi zombie hobo is the game’s first instance of the Nazi zombie plot. It tells us that the aliens are responsible for this when the ship crash lands to Earth and green goo gets in the sewer.

New Kid crashed an entire spaceship. He’s kind of a badass. And he gets to keep the alien probe!

The big bad government is involved now to deal with “another UFO crash.” How often does this happen??

Only South Park would try to pass off a UFO as construction of a Taco Bell. And only South Park citizens would believe it.

Recruitment (pt. 1)

All New Kid has to do to get the goth kids to join is put on black clothes. I’m glad to see they still have low standards.

New Kid finally meets Stan and Kyle! I’ve been waiting for this.

According to Kyle, Cartman lied about the stick being stolen and is hiding it. According to Cartman, Kyle is lying because New Kid can’t retrieve the stick if Kyle claims he doesn’t have it. It’s a game of “he said, she said” but I’m inclined to believe Kyle. This is Cartman we’re talking about…

PTA meeting

I’m disappointed no one yelled “Rabble, rabble!” at the PTA meeting.

Is no one else alarmed that Randy lured a young boy into the bathroom alone?

“That’s all you’ve got is a sign? At least crap on a desk or something!” Mr. Garrison is speaking highly of Cartman, I see.

She-Ogre

“Give me back my iPhone, DEMON!” This is an accurate depiction of a brother-sister relationship.

It’s adorable that Stan uses Sparky in battle.

Taco Bell

I love that the big bad government agents are such bad liars that they killed a guy asking about encharidos.

“Goddamn it! I’m so tired of Nazi zombies. It’s so…overused!” Haha!

I’m surprised the adults actually took the bombing threat seriously and weren’t bummed about no Taco Bell.

Recruitment (pt. 2)

The final goth test is DDR?? That’s so conformist.

Once you win the goth kids over, you can recruit them to either Cartman’s side or Kyle’s. I always pick Kyle’s side when I play this. I’ve been itching to betray Cartman since this game started!

South Park Elementary

The huge battle scene takes place at the school because it’s where Cartman supposedly hid the stick. South Park Elementary is busted and makes a great setting for a battle scene. More “Lord of the Rings” vibes!

New Kid’s farts help Kyle’s side get the upper hand. Take that, Cartman!

Another reason choosing Kyle’s side is better: New Kid’s battle against Butters is more impactful because he was New Kid’s first friend. If it was a face off against Stan, it wouldn’t be as emotional.

The final battle gives New Kid one last chance to pick a side. Like Stan says, “I can’t believe this is even a choice.” Kyle vs Cartman is like Chanel vs Walmart.

Yet another reason choosing Kyle’s side is better: Cartman’s farting fire at the end of this fight is one of the best scenes of the whole game.

Clyde

I love the twist where neither Kyle nor Cartman was lying. Clyde really punked the fuck out of everyone.

Kyle is the only one to acknowledge he’s aware of the green goo and how dangerous it is.

Stan: “Clyde, but why?” Cartman: “I banished him to be lost in space and time and now he’s all pissed off.” Haha!

Clyde’s fortress is so badass. I can see the appeal of the dark side.

How the hell does Clyde have control over the Nazi zombies??

I love that Clyde’s power move is keeping his friends out past their bedtimes. The stakes are higher now, but this reminds us this is still a kid’s game…or it started as one.

Underpants gnomes

Gnomes: “The kid is awake! What do we do?” “Oh, fuck, I guess we gotta kill him!” Me problem solving.

Since when do underpants gnomes have warlocks?? I thought they were all failed businessmen.

For some reason, high pitched gnome voices yelling “Oh, fuck!” is really funny to me.

New Kid fighting underneath his giant parents mid-coitus is another iconic fight scene. How many times must New Kid dodge his dad’s ballsack?? The kid is hardcore.

The girls

Kyle convinces everyone to team up against Clyde. I’m continually impressed by Kyle because of his leadership, intellect (he spent all night researching), and open mind (he doesn’t balk at teaming up with the humans or inviting girls to play). I’m totally Team Kyle, if you haven’t noticed.

I love that the girls blindfold New Kid when they bring him to their lair. That’s some Mafia shit.

Annie: “He…doesn’t really talk.” Bebe: “That’s hot!” ME

Sunshine, sparkle, glitter…I wanna talk like this all the time.

Heidi Turner was the two-faced bitch! That’s very Mrs. Cartman of her.

Abortion clinic

New Kid’s abortion doctor is named Dr. Poonlover because of course he is

The big bad government is doing Plan B at the abortion clinic. Clever joke!

Where did Randy get that blonde wig from?? The men in South Park cross-dress so much.

Khloe Kardashian’s aborted fetus as a Nazi zombie is also a legendary fight.

Canada

New Kid didn’t get that his photographer was a pedophile even when he was almost butt naked?? Also, who was that guy who jumps out from behind the boxes?

The layout of Canada is clearly a parody of Pokemon games, right? Either way, I love it. The shitty jpeg videogame look is very Canada.

“They’re like wolves, but they’re dire.”

Getting trained by Terrance and Phillip makes all this back and forth bullshit worth it.

Clyde’s fortress

Of course Cartman butts in when Kyle’s trying to give an inspirational speech. What an attention hog!

It’s funny to me how easily Craig switched to Clyde’s side. Loyalty much??

“I really found myself relating to Clyde’s views about darkness and enslaving the world.” Jesus, Craig!

Cartman’s negative reaction to electricity is a callback to the chip put in his head in Bigger, Longer & Uncut.

“It’s my favorite kid!” WOW, RANDY

“Who could it be?” I love how long New Kid lets them all wonder before he steps up.

Stan: “Dude, that’s not Taco Bell sauce.” Clyde: “Then why’d I find it at the Taco Bell?” A+ logic

How dare you, Clyde! Let Chef rest in peace!

Government interruption

“Whenever aliens are spotted, vampires run amok…” Vampires exist in this universe??

I love that the boys don’t care about the big bad government’s scheme.

So New Kid’s special power is making friends on social media! I should’ve known.

Princess Kenny’s betrayal

Princess Kenny planned to steal the stick all along! This game is full of betrayals.

Kenny makes a pretty cute anime princess. Nazi zombie? Not so much.

Princess Kenny is a badass final boss. And I never saw it coming!

I’m glad the “never fart on someone’s balls” joke meant something in the end. I can see why it was banned – it’s super deadly!

End

The boys unite to save friendship and love…by chucking a stick into a lake.

New Kid stole Cartman’s catchphrase!

Why did Al Gore appear so ominously at the end?? What are you gonna do to the kids, Al Gore??

#south park #the stick of truth #podcasa bonita

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tslasvegas · 4 years ago

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Episode 2: “I am typically regarded as a joke” - Livingston

Anyways... rip Colin, no idea who that was.. obviously Okay well I think we are out of the first impressions stage of this game and I think I've done an okay job of not making a strong impression one way or another, except to DeNara who I've been talking to most consistently since the start of this game. Except for today lmfao I was NOT active on purpose but I'll try to get to that in this confessional. I saw that the tribe went on a call so I decided to join and chit-chat with the girlies of this tribe and I've gotta say.. I'm lowkey disappointed to learn that despite being a returning player, everybody else on the tribe is friends with each other. Aside from Mo it sounds like they all know each other one way or another and I'm kinda left out of that connection. Even though they might not all be friends, it is a bit uncomfortable to be in a call with people where you know NOTHING they're talking about and you're not catching any of the jokes or references to other games. Also, I noticed that the personalities kinda blended together and these aren't people that I'd get along with in other orgs I play, so.. oops. One highlight of the call was that Nik was talking about Rachael and they were saying that Rachael got rid of them, I believe. Basically just talking about how they view Rachael differently because of that I guess? I was kind of in and out during that. But then DeNara posted IN THE TRIBE CHAT when it was just us three plus Kailyn on the call that Nik was spilling tea... and it was just. so. cringe. Idk if Nik or Kailyn noticed and the fact that everyone else was acting so nonchalant makes me think I missed something but either way I was on mute howling bc of second-hand embarrassment. As far as my current position, I do feel a bit comfortable with where I'm at because although I AM uncomfortable being left out of the friend group, normally I thrive early game when I get underestimated. I'm trying to just not make waves and stick to whatever plans come my way and hopefully people don't view me as a threat. Every time I'd leave and rejoin the call everybody was talking about totally normal IRL stuff so it doesn't seem like people are playing the game yet, but last round I did make a bit of an alliance with DeNara for the time being. Despite feeling like an outsider, I'm going to just continue to look at the positives of every situation because as a pessimistic person by nature, I'm inclined to feel doomed in any scenario. But this is my redemption season. I'm not here to get tenth place, I'm here to win and this season will prove itself to be an uphill battle and I'm just getting started. Tumblr Survivor has always felt like the story of Sisyphus and the Boulder to me. Look into the deeper meaning of the story and I promise a lot of the details do kind of relate to me and my character throughout my run in this community, but the general idea is that I've been tasked with a chore of having to push this heavy boulder up a neverending mountain in Hell. As a returning player, I've faced a lot of hardship when I could've just gotten the outcome I want the first time, and each return to Tumblr Survivor, I've pretty much done worse and worse since then. I'm ready to finally push that fucking boulder out of the underworld and bring myself back to the playing field I deserve to be on. For now, I'm just going to keep pushing.

So glad we won that first immunity. Why am I not surprise to see a unanimous vote for the first tribal. Even a self vote.... hopefully we win again today

I’m already over this tribe. Keegan and Liv are the only fun ones to talk to, Joey I think tries but also doesn’t. Also low key hoping people don’t know too much about Svalbard cause if people know about Rachael and I being close that could be a problem. I’m not letting my work schedule get in the way of my activity, but it’s a bad sign to me when I’m of the most active people on the tribe. I should be the baseline, not the gold standard

I think our Tribe is a bit laid back. Not much interaction, not really that engaging. I hope Jake and Kevin did a good job at the challenge, I don't want to go to Tribal again. The typhoon here passed, I hope Tribal passes too!

Woo we got out the main inactive person. Although really my entire tribe is quiet and lowkey inactive, but Jake and I talk a lot in PMs which is good. Also Stephen is doing his best with timezones so I know he wants to play bc he's always on when he is able to be on. The next biggest inactive person on the tribe is Kevin, but he instantly volunteered to do the challenge so yay I guess. If we lose though, he is still an option to go in my mind. I'm not trying to make too much of a plan because we could win this challenge and then I'm going to try to open the vault because if we come in first I will have 10 chips. But I still need to figure out if it costs 10 chips to open the vault or if you're just not allowed to look at it until you have 10 chips.

You want a confessional, well here it is. Nothing has happened. To be honest, I’ve barely even spoken to anyone today. Or yesterday for that matter. It’s also been quiet in tribe chat.

I finally got my tribe on a call. Most of them joined in, at least for a little bit so that was nice. The only person that wasn't on call was Ben, which kind of paints him as the outsider of the tribe right now.

...five seconds later

I want to get to know Mo better and maybe set up some sort of alliance with them, but they are so spotty with when they are on, it is difficult to keep a conversation going. I am not chill enough for this game yet lol.

ok. so like that's annoying. that challenge was supposed to be fun but jake is making a big stink. and like yeah i'm mad too but like it's over and it's just a game it's not like actual money lol. also, i don't really care if we go to tribal. makes you stronger. whatever. i'm sure he's a nice person but like i think he's just mad he lost. whatevs.

Nik and Rachael did our challenge and won. Thank goodness it wasn't me! What my tribe will soon come to realize is I am basically useless at challenges. Rip me.

...five seconds later

Yay! Mo finally asked if I wanted to work together! Took them long enough ;-) jkjk I am excited to finally start playing this game

So after a heated and undeserved loss - sorry Dan I know we talked about it but I'm sticking to my guns - I start packing my bags. All of a sudden Stephen wants to target John, John wants to target Timmy; and nobody is throwing my name out there... Like... Hello? I just got into a public fight with production, shouldn't I be target number one? And now, Xavier and I are the swing votes... How the hell did the worst Tumblr Survivor Player and a 45 Year old man end up stuck in the middle? What the hell even is this season?

WE LOST AGAIN. So now which alliance to choose?!

youtube

I can't believe this round. I should be the target, why - why am I not the target? I lost the challenge. I yelled at production. I am the easiest vote, but nobody is voting me! What is happening?? Timmy and Stephen made an alliance chat with Xavier and I to vote John. John and Kevin are working together to vote Timmy. Xavier says - "Jake tell me what to do!" Timmy and John are both telling me everything the other one is saying to each other, and it's amazing. I have no idea how Xavier and I are voting tonight. On one hand, you have Stephen and Timmy who seem like a really strong duo. But Stephen trusts me a lot, and if I vote out his closest ally than I'll go down that list - which could be trouble in case of the inevitable swap. John is MY closest ally, but if we vote him out the team is much more united. Do I play for ME or do I play for WE? I'm 95% sure the vote is going to be 4-2, and people are going to be blindsided.

“Theres three tribes! Means we’re less likely to have back to back tribals” -_- sure jan. So we lost again, blergh, looked like an annoying challenge. The tribe is still pretty muted, who knows whether they’re voting for me or not. I made a 4-man alliance with Timmy Jake and Xavier, which i do want, but we’ll have to see if everyone is legit. The two bad possibilities are if everyone is actually voting me for various reasons (timezone, round one oopsie, etc.) or if the real vote is jake for arguing with dan. idk, time will tell. From my POV the vote is John, pretty randomly just based on the fact of who competed in the challenge.

Hiiiiiii So I am very excited to be back in the game again. I very much enjoy my original tribe especially Andrew. We already have a Pennsylvania alliance with Stephanie and I think that that is good groundwork to have moving forward should we ever lose a challenge we already have three that are tight in at seven so if we hear anything about any of them targeting us we can do something about it. I like Livingston a lot and Joey but I can’t tell if Joey is 14 years old or not and that kind of bothers me. I am v excited to get with Kevin and see where me him and Andrew can go

Winning is great, but we need to lose the next one or it’s gonna be a weird spot if the first swap is at 18, although it is very possible that it’s at 16. I don’t want to go into a swap with all the agency being with Luxor, or us having the most players because in both cases we get painted as the targets. Bad news all around

I have yet to confess but here goes! I feel very good on my tribe. We seem to be doing fairly well at comps so far and I would love to continue to miss Tribal as much as humanly possible. I have talked to everyone on my tribe in some capacity but I am not trying to be the one to initiate like alliances and shit before we even have to attend tribal. I just wanna be chill and lay low while also being a good member of the tribe whom people like. Keegan and I have a mutual agreement to make sure each other gets far. I got first boot in my last game and he has never made single digits here in Tumblr Survivor so let's change that. One fear with working with Keegan is that he knows how I play. I played his game, Forest of Horrors, and got rocked out at the Final 7. Keegan has since told me that I was runner up for Player of the Season. I am typically regarded as a joke in this community but Keegan is someone who knows how I play and respects how I play. This game is an entirely different scenario so I am going to likely try to keep my connection up with him.

So the vote seems like it's going to be John Coffey. I'm quite sad about it for a few reasons. He is really nice and I know we work well together in games and he is a very loyal player. Also, Jake had an entire temper tantrum last night after results and that was just extremely annoying. But, Jake is more active and talks to me more while John is a rare sighting. Tbh I would rather it be Kevin but I think they're getting a pass since they participated in the challenge...always next tribal because knowing this tribe it's a strong possibility. I swear if the next challenge is a music video though I will punch a wall since that will be my death sentence since I do not participate in those. I never feel comfortable so I just don't. If we go to tribal as a tribe of 5, that might not be that good, so just really hoping that that is not the next challenge.

ok here's the tea guys. i am pretty solid in my tribe right now. after this vote tonight there 5 of us, and 4 of us are in an alliance, which is good. HOWEVER, i'm solid with the 3 people separately. that's put me in a good spot for a tribe swap/merge. obviously we're like years away from a merge. but we could tribe swap soon. we shall see!

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luckycheesefoodie321 · 5 years ago

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LONG. ASS. AWAE 3X10. POST. SPOILERS.

What... what else can I say? AWAE 3x10 was *chefs kiss* perfection!

I don’t... there’s no better way to convey how I felt about the ep than my full live commentary as I

LOST MY GODDAMN FUCKING MIND THE ENTIRE EPISODE LONG

Y’all ready? SPOILERS

OK BUT FIRST OF ALL THAT GODDAMN SHOT BEFORE YOU EVEN PLAY THE DAMN EPISODE TELL ME ITS REALLLLL

That was a gnarly opener hooo Boi But excellent. Gilbert finally cut it off with Winnie. I appreciate her. She had every right to be angry. Gilbert explained it well. She walked off quite dignified even if she was heartbroken. If she’d been developed more as a character I feel like this scene would’ve been more of a kick in the guts bc Winnie had so much potential to be a great character... I wonder if she’ll pop up again...

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Oh my god he broke up with Winnie and he’s still convinced Anne doesn’t love him BUT HES THERE IN MISS STACY’S HOUSE AND ANNE IS RIGHT THERE TOO OH MY GOD HES JUST STARING AT HER HOLY SHIT “Does anyone have the paper bag?” Oh Moody my child Holy shit this mutual pining gazes is so gooddddddd

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They TIED OF COURSE THEY DID AND THEYRE SO HAPPY FOR EACH OTHER Oh my god “is there anything else you’d like to say” Anne stop my heart can’t take this BITCH GILBERT PLEASE JUST TALK TO HER YALL DONT KNOW HOW TO HAVE A PROPER CONVERSATION ISTG

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Ok Diana have you talked to Jerry?? Are you gonna resolve that situation or no bc my boi needs closure!

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Well fuck me goddamn what the actual hell. I can never properly like the Barry’s theyre just sooo goddamn ughhhhhhh let Diana be what she wants to beeeee OBLIGED DECEITFUL WHAT THE FUCK OH MY GOD I HAVE NEVER DISLIKED A CHARACTER SO MUCH THESE TWO FACED MOTHERFUCKERS AT LEAST BILLY IS HONEST ABOUT HOW TERRIBLE HE IS

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Jerry my boy my darling my love how are you? Bahahhahahaha hahahahaha talking corsets and our two men just get heckin awkward Aww Matthew you’re really doing that to Anne huh? But also yes let Jerry stay over he’s wonderful and partially your son anyway Oh honey no Matthew is definitely not saying that he just wants you to spread your wings

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Mmmm look at this Bash and Hazel finally connecting??

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WHAT ARE YOU DOING AT THE CUTHBERT HOUSE GILBERT OH MY GOD THE PEN IS THIS HOW THE PEN IS GONNA BE DUDE WTF NO WAIT WHAT IS HE GONNA WRITE A NOTE INSTEAD WAIT WAIT THEY BOTH WROTE EACH OTHER A LETTER AGAIN OH MY GOD OH MYU GOSNSHGZBSHS THAT LETTER WAS SO BEAUTIFUL MY ANNEWITH AN E HOLY CRAP OH MY GOD IT BETTER GET READ PS HERES YOUR GODDAMN PEN I can’t this letter scene is too much

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THEY NAMED THE COWS PRIDE AND PREJUDICE What you doing Matthew my love?? Aww man she’s angry and now she can’t read Gilbert’s letter OH SHE IS GONNA READ IT NO GODDAMN IT ANNE WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS Oh you stupid you and your damn temper goddamn go put the pieces together dummy

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What if she just finds “thanks for the pen good luck at Queens” oh man imma riot YES FIND THE OTHER PIECES NOT JUST THOSE HE WROTE A BEAUTIFUL LETTER AND YOU GONNA MISUNDERSTAND Noooo she went to Diana’s goddamn girlll nooooooo that’s not the whole letter these two literal idiots he went to such lengths to ensure you’d get it and you won’t even find the whole thing and it was so beautiful

Oh my heart hurts Diana darling noooo

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Oh I love me some Marilla time ooh Anne this is so nice

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Oh shoot how did he see Elijah from there?!?? I was wondering when he’d come back

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Oooh yes Marilla talk some sense into Eliza

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I am HERE for this sisterhood between Anne and Miss Stacy

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Oh Matthew sweetheart nooooo

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Hmmm some redemption for Elijah?

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Anne with her hair up saying goodbye to her childhood????? YES LOOK AT THESE WOMEN

“I can see that serious students such as yourself would never dream of disappointing or breaking the rules” *rolls over cackling*

Also yeah some deaf/mute rep

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Ok so Elijah is getting another chance

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COLE WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN MY LOVE OH MY GOD ANNE IN THE BLUE DRESS Cole continuing to be the ultimate friend Anne baby it’s okay

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OH MY GOD THEYRE GONNA MEET I love that Winnie always knew it was AnnE But damn was she pissed

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WAIT SO NOW ANNE KNOWS DIANA WAIT WHERE ARE YOU GOING MR BARRY WTF GO GET HIM GIRL OOH DIANA TELL GILBERT WHATS UP

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OH MY GOD DIANA PREACH THE TRUTH HOLY FUCK THIS IS HAPPENING

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It happened. I threw pillows. I hit my elbow against the table. I just about died.

IT MOTHERFUCKING HAPPENED WE GOT CANON SHIRBERT YALL WE ARE EVERYTHING THAT KISS THOSE KISSES THERE WERE MULTIPLE PEN PALS YALL I’M THRIVING IT WAS AMAZING AND HE WENT BACK FOR MORE BC HE HAD TO RUN OFF

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Diana is going to Queens thank god the Barry’s came around... And that ending was pure af I’m so glad Anne got her wish come true

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what...what do I say about this episode??? I have no goddamn clue but one thing we can all agree on:

SHIRBERT IS SAILING!!! WE GOT THE KISS YALL!!! THE WHOLE GIRL GANG IS GOING TO QUEENS!!! I’M SO PROUD!!! MOIRA THANK YOU FOR THIS BLESSING ON OUR LIVES

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lovemesomerafael · 5 years ago

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Best That You Can Do Chapter 4: While Mike Was Dead

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Read it on AO3

William Dodds is destroyed by the death of his son. His devastation is so comlete that he finds himself leaning on Ingrid, of all people. When he picks her and Matthew up from the airport, he immediately clings to her as if his very sanity depends on it. As Mike’s mother, she alone has any hope of even approaching an understanding of the depth of William’s pain. She ends up sitting him down to one side of the baggage claim area and holding him while he completely dissolves in her arms. She motions for Matthew to get their bags, seeing Matthew’s embarrassment and knowing that William wouldn’t want to be this undone in front of their other son. Their only son, now.

The funeral is the single most agonizing moment of William Dodds’s life. He tries not to feel. He tries to simply shut himself down so that he can hold it together in front of the gathered brass and officers, but it costs him dearly. He ages ten years in the span of one unimaginably painful day. When it’s over, he goes home, gets as drunk as humanly possible, and sleeps for two days straight.

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

Kaitlyn is alone with her pain. She and Eleanor can share their sadness, but only Kaitlyn knows what she’s lost. What she’s thrown away. She has no right to grieve, but tell that to her heart. The only thing worse than her grief is her aching, crushing guilt. She could have made his last days happy. Instead, she’d… She can’t even get close to thinking about that yet.

She goes to his funeral. Of course she does; she’s Mike’s father’s right-hand man, and she’s expected to support the Chief in his time of loss. What she can’t do is acknowledge that it’s her loss, too. To anyone. Because she doesn’t deserve to. The sea of uniforms, the somber beauty of the honors done a fallen officer, would have hurt her soul anyway. But standing there, pretending to be a casual acquaintance, reeling with emotions she can’t begin to understand, she feels as though she’s polluting the ceremony. She feels as though she killed Mike herself.

Afterward, she feels duty bound to say some word of comfort to Mike’s squad and his Lieutenant. She’d rather be tossed naked into a live volcano, but she does it anyway. For Mike.

“Lieutenant Benson, I’m Kaitlyn Myers, from Chief Dodds’s staff-“

“Of course. We’ve met. I remember.”

“I just wanted to give you my condolences. I’m very sorry for your loss. And your squad’s.”

“Thank you. It’s a loss for the whole Department. He’s irreplaceable.” Olivia Benson isn’t crying, but she isn’t not crying, either. Kaitlyn is glad for Mike that he has good people, who treated him well, to shed honest tears for him.

“Yes, he is. He’s fortunate to have a Lieutenant who recognizes his worth.”

Lieutenant Benson swallows hard and nods.

“Kaitlyn, I don’t know if you remember me, I’m Sonny Carisi,” says the officer next to Benson, reaching out a hand for Kaitlyn to shake and pulling her a bit to the side.

“I remember,” she says. Carisi’s not a man you forget. “Mike talked about you. You were close. I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks.” Sonny leans down a little and steps forward so that he can speak too quietly for anyone else to hear. “We talked about you, too. He really liked you.”

Kaitlyn feels gut-punched. She can’t know it, but she looks gut-punched, too, which makes Sonny immediately regret saying anything.

“I didn’t make that very easy,” she whispers. She’s biting the inside of her mouth to keep from crying.

Sonny pulls her further away from the knot of people around the squad. “C’mon. You can’t blame yourself for that. He, uh, told us what happened. What the problem was.”

“The whole squad?” Kaitlyn squeaks.

“No, no, just me and my husband. In confidence. He was just lookin’ for some advice how to make things work with you.”

“Shit…” Kaitlyn wipes tears, and Sonny hands her a tissue. His kindness makes her cry harder.

“Listen to me. If you’re beating yourself up because you think you made him unhappy just before… Don’t. You couldn’t know. And you need what you need. Besides, he might have been miserable, but he wasn’t unhappy. If you know what I mean. We all enjoy a little romantic challenge.”

Carisi’s slight grin, and the muted glint in his eye, make Kaitlyn think his husband is a very lucky man. She also thinks he’s about the nicest guy she’s ever met for saying these things, untrue as they are.

“Thank you, Detective.”

“Sonny.”

“Coming with us to the wake? I’ll buy you a drink.”

“No. Thank you, but I don’t feel like I even belong here. I certainly don’t belong there.”

“The hell you don’t. Come.”

Kaitlyn shakes her head sadly. “I can’t. But thank you. Thank you for everything. And again, I’m truly sorry you lost a friend.”

“So did you. Don’t think I don’t know that.”

There’s a wet spot from Kaitlyn’s tears on Sonny’s lapel after he hugs her. Not a perfunctory hug, either. He gives her a tight, full-contact, several second hug that says more than his words ever could that he doesn’t blame her for the things she did to Mike. No wonder Mike was close to this guy.

She turns to go, and finds herself face to face with a good-looking, dark-haired man standing right behind her. She stammers an apology and moves to go around him.

“This is Kaitlyn, Rafael. Make her come to the wake.”

As Kaitlyn turns to look at Sonny, he nods to her and steps back into the impromptu receiving line that’s formed around the SVU squad. She turns back to the man he’s just called Rafael. “I, uh…”

“The squad is riding together in a limo. I’ll take you in my car,” he says. He has a bedroom voice and there’s a deep kindness in his eyes. Something clicks and Kaitlyn realizes this must be ADA Rafael Barba, Sonny Carisi’s husband.

“Thank you, that’s very kind, but I really can’t.”

Kaitlyn starts to mumble some garbled nonsense about having to get going, but it slows down and sputters out as Rafael simply looks at her with a vaguely amused smirk.

“What?” She finally asks.

“Ms. Myers, Detective Carisi just asked me to bring you to the wake. Which means you’re coming if I have to put you in the trunk.”

Kaitlyn blinks for a few seconds. She can’t help but smile a little at that. “His wish is your command?”

“Something like that.”

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

Chief Dodds wakes up on the morning of the third day after his son’s funeral, puts on his suit, and goes to work. He tells himself that, although he’s broken now, he still has to do the job. People are depending on him.

It’s his anger that gets him moving. Somewhere in the fog of the last two days, he’s cried himself out. Not that he won’t still cry over losing Mike – he will – but he’s sobbed out the first, overflowing shocked sadness. Now comes the long, draining melancholy. But another emotion has bloomed inside him as he slept. Rage. He’s mad at the entire world. He hates that they’re all just getting on with things, as if the gaping hole Mike’s left in the world doesn’t make everything else completely fucking useless and meaningless.

When he gets to the office, the first thing he sees is the pity on Eleanor’s face. He practically snarls at her to knock it the hell off.

“We’re not gonna be sitting around here like it’s a morgue. We still have a job to do. Pull yourself together.”

She actually physically flinches, and the only thing he feels is a tiny twinge of satisfaction. He wants to hurt people. He wants to break things and howl in anguish and tear the planet apart. And when he gets to his office and sees Kaitlyn there, doing some damn pointless thing with files full of worthless bullshit, he sees red. Look at her, fucking bustling around like he didn’t just bury his son. Like she didn’t spend the last weeks of Mike’s life slapping him across the face and stomping his heart.

“Get out,” Dodds spits. He doesn’t think. He doesn’t hesitate a second. He’s not even all the way in his office yet when he starts firing at her like he’s a belt-fed automatic weapon.

She turns around and looks stunned. “I-“

“Get out. Get your things and get out. I never want to see your face again. I can’t fire you, although you better believe that’s what I’d do if I could. But you’re out of here as of now and you’re on administrative leave until I can find a place to stuff you.”

“Sir-“

“Who the fuck do you think you are? I’ll tell you who. You’re no one! You’re nothing! You’re a fucking ice queen, a conceited bitch who was never anywhere near good enough for my son, yet you thought you had the right to - Why are you just standing there? Get your lousy ass out of my office!”

“Sir, I-“

“Get OUT!” Dodds screams, and gets another little zing of terrible satisfaction at the fear on her face. An evil, bloody part of him enjoys the way she scurries out of his office like a kicked dog. He’s crying again, but it’s only a few hot, furious tears that are quickly dried. Until this moment, he hadn’t realized just how deeply he abhors that woman. He makes a note to ensure she gets transferred to the worst posting he can find. One where her career will wither on the vine and she’ll never be heard from again, the cold-hearted cunt.

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

Six Months Later:

Kaitlyn’s standing behind her supervisor, watching her demonstrate yet another bloated, redundant process she insists Kaitlyn follow. It seems like she senses Chief Dodds just before he enters the huge room, his meticulously-coiffed head visible above the walls of a field of cubicles. She tries to hide. She bends her head down and leans in, quickly thinking of questions to ask that will let her stay concealed behind the walls of her supervisor’s cube until he’s gone.

Except that he’s there for her. She hasn’t seen or spoken to him since the day he fired her – technically, it was a transfer, but they both know what it was – and when she learns he’s there for her, she’s terrified. She’s still raw and bleeding from the things he said to her that day. Mostly that’s because she was already saying those things to herself and she hasn’t stopped since. It’s been a rough six months since Mike died.

What’s weird is that, when they get into the conference room he’s commandeered, there are tears in his eyes as he kindly asks her to sit down. It’s a very small conference room, with a little round table and four chairs, and no room for anything else. Kaitlyn starts to shake. She has absolutely no idea what’s coming, but she knows in her bones she’s about to get knocked down again. She sighs. She deserves it. She actually hopes it gives the Chief a little bit of comfort. She’s always cared about him, and she’s never held what he did against him. She’d have done the same thing. Maybe she wouldn’t have come back half a year later to kick her some more, but whatever he needs. She’s not going to fight it. It’s no more than she deserves.

“Kaitlyn, I – would you like some coffee? Let’s have some coffee. That might make this easier.” The Chief opens the door to the conference room and stops the first person he sees. He tells them to bring two cups of coffee as though they’re all there to cater to him, with no more pressing work. Kaitlin feels a little glow, like long-banked coals being blown into life. He hasn’t changed.

He takes a few awkward steps around, like he’s got a ton of impounded energy and it’s hard for him to be still. He does a weird head-shake, then reaches out and takes the back of a chair to pull it out. He sits, and he looks directly into Kaitlyn’s face. She tries to face him as bravely as she can.

“How have you been?” His tone is kind again, like he hopes she’s been enjoying the Siberia to which he sentenced her.

“Fine, Sir. Thank you for asking. How are you?”

He laughs a little and shakes his head. “No, Kait. I’m really asking. Have you been OK here? It hasn’t been so bad?”

“It’s fine, Sir. What we do is important. Somebody has to be able to find these files when they’re needed for an appeal. We’re keeping criminals behind bars, where they belong.” She straightens her shoulders and sits up a little. She hates it here, and she knows he knows that. It’s why he sent her here. But she’s still going to do the best job she can, and she still cares enough about his opinion of her that she wants him to know that.

“Yeah,” he says, almost to himself. “I deserved that.”

“Sir?”

The woman he stopped knocks softly with her elbow on the glass of the conference room door. The Chief gets up and lets her in. She sets the cups of black coffee down on the table and leaves as quickly as she can. Chief Dodds and Kaitlyn both take a sip of the semi-hot coffee.

“That’s terrible,” he says, actually smiling at her. “Just the way I like it.”

Huh. That’s confusing. He’s making a little joke they used to make to each other about the ubiquitous, consistently awful coffee in the NYPD.

He must see her confusion, because he sets down his cup and leans in. “Kaitlyn, I have a lot to say to you. But it all has to start with an apology. I was lost when Mike died. I felt like there was nothing good or meaningful in the world. And I was so damn angry. Angry at Munson, angry at fate, or God, or whatever. Even angry at Mike for trying to be a hero, as if that wasn’t just who he was. Who I raised him to be. And I took that out on you. I’m sorry, Kaitlyn. I lashed out at you because you were there. You were convenient. I fucked up, and I hurt you because I was hurting so bad myself. And I am very, very sorry.”

Kaitlyn sits, stunned, feeling the warmth as she cradles the paper coffee cup and just looks at the Chief. Her mind is an absolute blank. “You lost your son, Sir. You’re entitled.”

He smiles at that and looks down at the table. “Do you know, I actually predicted that you would say that? You probably even believe it, which I don’t deserve.”

“Let’s not talk about ‘deserve’, Sir. I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell don’t want what I deserve.” All of Kaitlyn’s bitter guilt comes out in those words. Dodds’s head snaps up.

“No, Kaitlyn.”

“Sir?”

“That’s why I’m here. To right a wrong. I said… Well, we both remember what I said. But I was wrong, and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. And I sent you here, to the ass end of the Department, and that was wrong. Because you didn’t deserve it.” He gives her a meaningful look as he emphasizes the word, and holds up a hand when she starts to protest. “Don’t argue with me. I know what was going on with you and Mike. He told me. And I understand. Even if I didn’t know your father, which I do, I’d still say you didn’t deserve what I did. Who am I to tell you not to protect yourself? Anyway, that’s all water under the bridge. I’m here to get you out of here.”

Kaitlyn’s mind again blanks. She treats the Chief to a look of almost comical confusion.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve paid for my stupidity. The office is a wreck. Well, that’s not quite accurate. I’ve got a hell of a good staff, and they’re keeping it going. It’s me. I’m the wreck. I can’t function without you. I need you back. And what’s more, I want you back. It’s done, all I have to do is say the word, but… I’m not going to order you back. In fact, I’m offering to do whatever I can to get you placed wherever you want to go. I mean it when I say I’m sorry, and I’ll make it up to you as best I can. But I’m really, really hoping you’ll forgive the stupid mistakes of a grief-stricken old man and come back to my office. Please.”

Kaitlyn is actually a little concerned that she might have become paralyzed somehow. She’s entirely unable to move or speak. The problem is that her ability to think has returned with a vengeance. Now she’s thinking so many things, so fast, that she can’t catch any of her thoughts for long enough to try to follow one from beginning to end. Her expression changes like a kaleidoscope as she wrestles to focus.

“You need time. I should’ve expected that. You can have it. Of course. I’ll give you as long as you need. You just-“

“Yes.”

“-call me when you’ve made…” It takes a second for what she’s said to register. “Yes?”

“Yes. If you mean it. Yes.”

“I do. I mean it. I’ll take you with me today. Now. Just get your things-“

“You can’t just tear me out of my chair, Sir. I’m in the middle of some things. Sergeant Cox would be really inconvenienced.”

“And you care about that?”

“Not in the least,” Kaitlyn hears herself say, a tiny grin beginning to twist her lips as she begins to dare to believe the Chief. “But I care about the rest of the team. Can you give me until the end of the week?”

“Of course. Of course. And if you want to take some time off in between, that’s-“

“No, Sir. I don’t want to give you time to change your mind.”

He smiles at that. “I’m not going to change my mind, Kait. I meant every word I said. And, by the way, you’re getting a raise. ‘Words are cheap, show me the money,’ right? Heard you say that a million times. So I am.”

He stands as he says that, so she hesitantly follows. She isn’t prepared for him to bear-hug her, and doesn’t plan to burst into tears, but that’s what happens. When he speaks, she realizes he’s crying, too.

“Kait, I’m so sorry. I screwed up. But I’ll make it up to you. I swear.”

“You didn’t screw up. You did what you had to do at the time. Just, please, be serious about this.”

“I would never play you like that, Kait. I’m completely serious. First thing Monday, you’ll be back in the office and then everything will be all right again.”

Not everything, Kaitlyn thinks, but as long as she really gets to go back where she belongs, at least things will be better.

“Will you do me one tiny favor?” Kaitlyn dares to ask.

“Anything. Name it.”

“Can I be the one to tell Sergeant Cox?”

“I don’t think I like that evil gleam in your eye, Kaitlyn.” Chief Dodds gives an actual belly laugh, and Kaitlyn’s whole world gets brighter in that moment.

“Neither will Sergeant Cox. It’s been a long six months.”

“God help her. Go ahead.”

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

Five Months Later:

Things still aren’t quite right in the Chief’s office. Kaitlyn thinks her replacement might have been a reflection of the Chief’s grief, because for the life of her she can’t see why he’d thought the guy was qualified. That might be sour grapes, of course, because the guy completely reorganized the computer filing system and Kaitlyn spent her first months back in the office fixing his “improvements” so that they can find things again. Kaitlyn secretly has little sympathy for the other members of the Chief’s staff, since they’d let the guy do it. But she keeps that to herself.

She’s happy. She always loved this job, but now she knows how lucky she really is. And things have changed subtly between her and the Chief. He’s finally stopped apologizing to her every five minutes and going out of his way to do things for her; they’re back to their comfortable rhythm and she’s back to doing things for him, which is her actual job, after all. But now that they’re back to normal, it’s clear that they have a deep, real relationship that goes beyond their work relationship. It’s nice. It feels more like father and daughter than employer and employee. And why wouldn’t it? He’s lost the only child he got to raise. He’s got love to give, and no one to give it to now that Mike’s dead. That thought makes Kaitlyn sad for Chief Dodds. She’s stopped trying to deny how sad she is for herself. Still.

She hasn’t even looked at another man since Mike died. He wasn’t even hers, she’d made sure of that, but she knows now what she missed. She also knows what a complete, unmitigated idiot she was. Susan Eisenberg’s been all over the tabloids with the lead singer of a rock band. Or ex-lead singer, because she’s managed to alienate the band members from him, and the news is all about how the band broke up because of her possessiveness. Kaitlyn hopes Mike can look down from Heaven and have a nice, smug “I told you so”.

The thing is, she keeps comparing every guy she meets to Mike. She’s well aware that she’s probably making him perfect in her memory, remembering him as much taller, sexier, better-looking and more fun than he really was. But she can’t help it. Maybe because she works with his father every day, Kaitlyn’s having a hard time getting over Mike. If she’s honest, she’s having a hard time wanting to get over Mike.

It’s late on a Tuesday afternoon when the Chief appears in Kaitlyn’s office doorway. She’s never seen the look he has on his face, and she’s instantly concerned about him. When he speaks, though, he’s trying to keep from smiling. And he’s failing. He reminds Kaitlyn of a man who’s just learned he’s about to be a father.

“Listen, I’d like you to knock off early, if you would. There’s something I need you to do for me, and I need you to come over to the apartment.”

“Sure,” she agrees. That’s not such an unusual request, so it’s clearly not what’s making the Chief look so weird. “Now?”

“Now.”

“What am I gonna need?”

“Uh,” the Chief really does look strange, and at this moment he appears to be struggling to wrap his brain around the very routine question. “Your tablet, I guess. Nothing else.”

“You’re the boss.”

They engage in small talk as a driver takes them to Chief Dodds’s apartment. Kaitlyn loves it there. It’s huge by New York City standards, and the Chief has either excellent taste or a very talented decorator. As soon as they walk in, she’s enveloped by the quiet, and the sense of comfortable luxury. It’s maybe a little masculine for her, but it’s beautiful. She knows he has a little bit of family money, and she thinks some of it must have gone toward this place. She’d have done the same.

She’s surprised when he offers her a glass of wine. When she’d first come to work for the Chief, he had offered her drinks, but apologized for not being able to offer her anything alcoholic. He said it was skirting professionalism to work in his apartment anyway, and he made it a rule never to drink in that situation. She agreed completely. But here he was, offering her wine.

“Don’t we have a no-drinking rule?”

The Chief takes a deep breath and begins to uncork the bottle, despite what she’s just said. Vague alarm bells begin to sound. He’s not going to make a pass at her. She knows that for a fact. But something’s going on, and he thinks she needs to have a drink on board to deal with it. Shit.

“We do. But I have some news, and it’s… I hope you’ll trust me on this. I think you’ll need it.”

“OK, now you’re scaring me.”

“It’s actually good news. But it’s not gonna feel that way at first. It’s not gonna feel bad-“ he hastens to add as he sees her tense up, even from across the room. “It’s just gonna be a lot. And confusing, and you’ll probably be pissed, and…” He stops what he’s doing and looks hard at her. “Just trust me.”

“I think I need a drink already, just from the preamble. Just give me the news quickly. Please? I don’t like surprises. You know that.”

“I do. I absolutely do, and I’m sorry. This is gonna be a big one.”

“Chief. Stop. I’m in full-on freak out now. Just tell me.”

He’s holding two very full glasses of red wine as he crosses the room. He hands her one and sits on a chair at an angle to the one she’s sitting in.

“L’chaim,” he says, unknowingly reminding her painfully of the day she’d met Mike and they’d shared that toast over glasses of Dalmore.

“L’chaim,” she echoes, and softly clinks his proffered glass. “Now tell me what the hell’s going on.”

“When that’s half gone,” he says, pointing to her drink.

“Chief-“

“Just trust me.”

“Fuck.” She takes a healthy slug, which is an insult to the excellent Nebbiolo he’s given her. She very rarely drops F-bombs in front of the Chief, and she hopes it lets him know she’s hating every second of this.

He talks a little bit about Mike then, which distracts her a little. They rarely talk about him. Even though they’ve forgiven each other, Mike is still a minefield of a subject between them. It’s a story about Mike as a small boy, and it’s adorable. The Chief’s smiling fondly. It’s nice to see him be able to talk about Mike without the haunted, tortured look he used to have. By the time he’s done with that story, and another about the time Mike worked in a bar in Hell’s Kitchen for a while after returning from the Army, they’re halfway through their glasses of wine. It’s time. Kaitlyn holds her glass up and wiggles it a little.

“Yeah. All right.” The Chief says, squaring his shoulders, then leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He’s not looking at Kaitlyn. He’s not even really looking at the floor where his eyes are aimed.

“Mike planned to transfer to the Joint Terrorism Task Force at some point. He wanted to be part of the fight to protect the country.”

“You told me that.”

“He didn’t get the chance to do that, exactly.”

“Exactly? Is your news something about Mike?”

Dodds doesn’t answer, just goes on with what he’s saying. “He didn’t get the chance to go to JTTF because Homeland Security came and got him first. They saw their chance and they took it.”

“When was this? You never told me about this.”

“I never told you because it was eleven months ago.”

Kaitlyn blinks and squints, shaking her head to convey that she doesn’t understand.

“Eleven months ago, Kaitlyn. When they told us he died.”

The bottom dropping out of Kaitlyn’s stomach is extremely unpleasant, but not as bad as the hot lightning that begins to burn at her skin. She feels what he was telling her before she thinks it. “When they told us he died…”

“It wasn’t true. He was taken to Bethesda to finish recovering from his gunshot. There was no stroke. But they let us think there was. They let me think there was. And his mother, and his brother…”

Ooh. Clearly, the Chief has some feelings about that. That’s going to be interesting to Kaitlyn when she can get her mind to quit flipping around like an old VHS tape with tracking problems.

“Six months ago, some little douchebag from the State Department came to see me. He told me that my son was alive. He apologized for the pain they’d caused, and had the balls to thank me for my ‘sacrifice’, like I’d been given any fucking choice. He explained that everyone had to grieve normally. It was part of Mike’s ‘legend’, the cover story so no one would identify him. The little prick used enough damned spy buzzwords to choke a horse.”

“Holy… Chief…” Kaitlyn is now three-quarters of the way through her wine, and planning to ask for more.

“Yeah. The only good thing, the only good thing about that meeting was that the little State Department fuck had some kind of secure phone with him, and I got to talk to Mike. Or rather, Mike talked. I cried.”

“Of course you did. Shit,” Kaitlyn whispers.

For a minute, Chief Dodds doesn’t say anything. He watches Kaitlyn try to begin to process the information he’s just given her, and when she drinks the last of her wine, silently goes to the kitchen and refills their glasses. He hands hers, as full as before, to her with an open look on his face. Kaitlyn takes it and slumps against the back of her chair. She drinks for a few more silent moments.

“They let you believe your son was dead. For six months. They let you bury him. Mourn him. Our government did that to you. On purpose.”

“Yeah, but at least they thanked me for my sacrifice,” he spits bitterly. “Apparently, the feds aren’t really big on worrying about individuals. They’re more big picture kind of people. That’s another bit of wisdom I got from the State Department guy.”

“Fuck.”

“But you’re missing the point. Kaitlyn. Mike is alive.”

She looks into his eyes. She has absolutely no idea how to even begin to deal with any of this, except for one thing. The only thing that matters. “Where is he?”

“Here. Not in this apartment, but here in New York.”

“I want to see him.” Suddenly, that is all Kaitlyn wants.

That makes the Chief smile. “He wants to see you.”

She actually sets her glass down on a side table and stands. “Let’s go.”

He laughs quietly. “Finish your drink. I learned that there are guidelines for how to do this. You need some time to ‘process’. Time to ‘adjust’. That’s a quote. There’s a fucking manual for this shit, if you can believe that.”

“Sir, I want to see Mike. I want to see him now.”

“I’m glad to hear it. And you will. Just not tonight.”

#Law & Order SVU #law & order: special victims unit #mike dodds #andy karl #detective sonny carisi #rafael barba #Peter Scanavino #Raul Esparza #mike dodds is alive and well #Sonny's a good bro

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patchdotexe · 5 years ago

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explorers of arvus: raid on house dalton, pt 2 / 3.24.19

thorn is apparently a snorcel now (pronounced "snorkel")

spent the first 15 minutes petting my cat on camera

Charlie Uses A Firebolt To Perform Surgery

Hello, My Name Is Crest Warcraft

"[charlie] is doing it for the vine. the vine is a hallucinogenic tree that transmits people doing stupid things."

"why did you roll 1danganronpa?"

thorn may snipe me and i am so afraid

"you say 'holy shit!' and then 'a horc' softly."

Sieron Has Become One With The Books

[charlie voice] I'm Taure Now!

I ROLLED A NAT20 SO CHARLIE SLID BETWEEN SIERON S LEGS OUT OF HIDING, SHOT A FIRE CROSSBOW AT SOMEONE ACROSS THE ROOM, AND EVAPORATED A GUARD

oh my god it was the coolest thing ever i was wiggling in my seat amd squeeing on camera

i love whenever charlie gets to do rad things, mostly involving fire

Let Thorne Say Fuck!

oh my god charlie did a wild magic surge with intention of being cool.. ..and got 2 years older.

"charlies gonna open the door again [after closing it on sieron to protect him in case she exploded] and hides behind sieron.” "theyll all get an attack of opportunity on you." "ah."

almost exploded AGAIN

sieron: [knocks on door] uh, charlie? charlie: IM OKAY! penn: the door gives you a thumbs up.

this combat is SO fun

leo: im gonna knife this guy in the kneecaps. michael: okay so you aim for this guy's kneecaps, but charlies a bit taller now and not used to it, so you stab him in the thigh and hit a major artery. leo: charlie goes "[makes a O___O face]"

btw i LOVE wild magic. it is so fun and im glad my Very First Played Character is a wild magic sorcerer

michael: oh, leo, do you have a question? leo: oh, no, im just holding up charlies fingergun (she was readying an action and was gonna use Firebolt but with fingerguns)

[in combat with a spooky shadow entity] michael: are you attacking the figure, or the shadows? leo: UHHHH

im so pale that im Reflective

charlie surged AGAIN and basically got muted for casting magic missile at the darkness

charlie is Very chatty ic so she is Miserable

WELL THORNE JUST HAD THE WORST LUCK IN THE ENTIRE WORLD

(he lost 16 MAXIMUM hp bc of that saving throw, bc this creature can do that! terrifying!)

Leo Eat Cookie

is thorne gonna lose an arm? find out next time on explorers of arvus! (no.)

my mic got disconnected for a sec and i didnt notice and when i fixed it i complained about my soda being full of ice and then had an Intense burp and died instantly solar: CHARLIE CAN SPEAK AGAIN, BUT IT STARTS WITH A BURP

also taure tried to heal thorne taure: do you feel better? thorne: i dont feel much better but i feel less worse.

Charlie Eat A Cookie

"OH GREAT, THIS IS FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST NOW!"

[charlie voice] wow sieron, i didnt know youre a weeaboo

also thorne rolled a 1 and thought the transmutation circle was a nightlight

solar: dm is gone, everybody riot leo: [full body flailing] AAAA

[sieron boops the magic sigil of the campaign's enemy with the brand of the same sigil on his hand, which does weird things] michael: so sieron, your arm hasnt been injured, right? it's not bleeding? jorb: ...no michael: okay. [stands up and leaves] leo: UHHHHHH

michael: and sieron, you get sucked through the wall. leo: NOPE. I GRAB HIM. IM RIGHT NEXT TO HIM, I GRAB HIM

"You grab on to Sieron's coat... and the both of you get pulled through."

AND THE SESSION ENDS ON TAURE BANGING ON THE WALL AND SCREAMING, WITH CHARLIE AND SIERON POTENTIALLY LOST ON ANOTHER PLANE. HOLY SHIT

oh my god that was so cool though???? this session was SO FUN i had such a good time aaaAAAaaa

"please don't fuck in the other dimension."

#leo chirps #txt #dnd #explorers of arvus #apparently itd been so long i kept spelling thorne's name wrong #ANYWAY god this is one of the other Really Good Sessions #THE CLIFFHANGER ESPECIALLY OMG #[clever queue tag]

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ad1ostoreador · 5 years ago

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>> Spill over.

(in which a very small sand castle is built, @ad1ostoreador actually manages to Verbalize a Feeling or Even Two, to @blurry-end-evil, and they commiserate over the wreckage one Serket left of multiple lives. warnings: features an abuse survivor still being angry and venting off steam about the experiences that left physical and emotional scars on him, and the people who stood around and watched it happen, in ways that are not particularly forgiving or flattering to anyone involved.)

ad1ostoreador:

Tavros has flown himself to physical exhaustion, if still nothing approaching sleep, and is now sitting sort of huddled up on a dry hummock of sand, some distance along the beach and nearly out of view from the main hive. He's got his knees pulled to his chest and his arms around them, ears pinned back, and is still wearing somewhat smeared facepaint.

blurry-end-evil:

Loxi was looking for Tavros, for once glad the troll was tall, with big horns. Though right now, he's not looking so tall. Quite the opposite, in fact. He's on tumblr, he can't have missed it being filled by one Vriska by herself. How surprising.

He walks on the beach towards the curled form, stopping somewhat in the bull's line of sight. "Hey TV. What you're doing here ?" For once he's not teasing, just asking neutrally.

ad1ostoreador:

He barely lifts his head and doesn't look up, but one ear pivots to follow Loxi's approach across the sand. "...just sitting." His answer is as neutral as the question.

blurry-end-evil:

And here goes Loxi, flopping himself near to him, vaguely cross-legged. "You look like shit." He informs politely.

"Are you going to take me for an idiot again and pretend everything is peachy ?"

ad1ostoreador:

He snorts, shrugging a little. "I, uh, don't really care what I look like, right now... and, probably, you saw enough of the dash, to, um, draw your own conclusions... unless you are actually not following anyone at all, and also living in a hole..."

blurry-end-evil:

"Ha, ha. Believe it or not, I'm actually following people. Tho, yeth. I have hypothethith." A small grin. "Couldn't mithth how thith part of the web thuddenly got even more webs. But I wasn't thure it could make you go be all depreththed on the beach."

ad1ostoreador:

"I'm not depressed..." Not today. Today, he's just... frustrated and helpless and grouchy. He's not sure whether it's an improvement or not. "...they always crawl out of the woodwork in bunches. Like one isn't more than enough..."

blurry-end-evil:

"I'm thurprised tumblr didn't crumble under thith army of eight patth creatureth, yeth. They're thtill good at fooling their world, it theemth." He leans back on his hands.

ad1ostoreador:

"...it's like people just...--" He cuts off again, rubbing at his mouth with the back of one hand, and making a noise that isn't entirely unlike a growl.

blurry-end-evil:

"Forget ? Forgive ? " He offers, rather neutral, but... A little bitter, too.

ad1ostoreador:

"...never cared, at all, in the first place, unless it happened to personally, uhh, inconvenience them, like maybe some blood got splashed on their shoe, which they then had to try and clean off, because it wasn't a pretty color." It's half-muffled into his hand, or his knee, or just a low, tense mumble in the first place.

blurry-end-evil:

"People are aththole. What elthe is new ? Either they're shithead and don't care about what she did, either they're too nithe and forgive her. Or too thtupid and she manipulate them." He huff himself. Loxi tries to act as if things don't really touch him usually, but... He lost a lot, too.

"Mothtly, other don't get it. Why would they care ? Eh."

ad1ostoreador: "...even the ones who try and talk like they care... don't. Not really. It's always more important to them to chase her quads, or pretend like she's some sort of friend or something.... just shove everything under the textile square, right? If nobody talks about it, it's almost like it didn't happen, and it's all my fault if anything is maybe, not pleasant, a little, because I should have just gotten over it, like everyone else did, ha ha! It's not like she took anything important, just my best friend, and my future, and my legs, and my whole life, that I had..." He's... possibly a lot closer to tears than he'd like to be. Ugh.

blurry-end-evil:

He won't point it out, even look at the sea rather than him to not make him feel too self-conscious. He's not good at comfort, but that doesn't mean he'll be an asshole here. "I know. I was here, remember ? She maid me kill AA. Tho, I disagree with whatever thome shithead who wantth to feel better than they are, forgive her or find her excuses. She turned fun games into dethtroyed lifes. I don't thee why the fuck you should be over it, or me, or anyone wanting to be mad at her. She could die under my eyes and I wouldn't even move a thingle finger."

He breathes noisily, annoyed now. Frustrated, too. Sometimes he wish he could have made her pay, for real. "She made your already hard life an impoththible one. If cullers had found you, you'd be dead. As if being a lowblood wasn't giving uth enough to handle, already. But, nooo, mithth blueblood don't thee why we're all tho mean with her, really, we're all awful." Loxi rolls his eyes, hissing a bit.

ad1ostoreador:

It gives him time to get his breathing back under control. To fight down the ghost of remembered pain in his back that is trying to make his legs go numb and nerveless, and to quash the little surge of panic that is the automatic response to that (lack of) sensation. He digs his claws into his knees a little, then shifts, clumsily. "...My legs are okay now, but... all of it still happened." A shaky exhale. "I don't have to forgive her, or forget it."

blurry-end-evil:

"Of courthe not. Magical repairing or whatever it is, it doesn't suddenly make everything fine again. And it'th not like she is the one who gave you your legs back. Right? Tho she didn't do anything to detherve forgivenethth. If she even could detherve it to begin with, which I doubt."

He's sort of enjoying having someone to trash her with.

ad1ostoreador:

"She's dead, and I'm not sorry at all," Tavros mutters. "I'm never going to be sorry about that. Or decide that I am, um, okay with listening to some other version of her brag about all the terrible things she did."

blurry-end-evil:

"Is she ?" He lifts his arms straight above him, and let himself land on his back, on the sand. "Nithe. Finally thome good fucking news.'

Loxi snickers. "At leatht it meanth there's one lethth in the fuckery of the multiverthe. But, yeah, why you have to do that ?" He lift himself on his elbows. "You don't have to juthtify yourthelf, you know ? She did awful things. Kick her, kill her, ignore her. All good choice." He grins, now. "Pretty thure she'd prefer you kill her than you ignore her, the bitch."

ad1ostoreador:

He hackles up a little, hair prickling up in a crest, and flattens his ears, but at least he actually looks at Loxi this time. "I have... a negative amount of care, actually, about what she wants, or wanted, or would have preferred. All I care about is that she's gone, and at least one version of her... can't hurt anyone else, ever again.."

blurry-end-evil:

He stares back. "It'th what I thaid. And I altho thaid ignoring her is probably the betht. I guethth I'm jutht more revengeful than you." It's not judgemental, just a fact.

"...We can't make people thee the real her, though. Thadly."

ad1ostoreador:

"...I know. Nobody ever... wants to see it, until it's too late, and she's... broken something they actually care about, in a way that can't be fixed." Tavros rakes a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it back down. "....it's just... really tiring." He isn't even sure if he means the effort of trying to blacklist and block and filter her out, for his own sake, or the struggle of trying to maintain any trust at all toward people who let her in.

blurry-end-evil:

He nods tiredly. "She's just like... A life viruth. Or a happynethth viruth. It'th in her code, she won't change. It'th bullshit."

Loxi goes back to sitting position, crosslegged and elbow on his knee so he can rest his jaw in his hand. "You warn people, but they don't lithten. What elthe can you do ?" It's a rhetorical question.

ad1ostoreador:

"...I don't even try to warn anyone anymore," he murmurs, voice quiet and drained. "It doesn't do any good, it never did... and no one cares. Maybe whatever... weird timeline versions everyone else is from just... magically happened to fix whatever was broken in her, so that she could try not being a terrible person, for once. But... I don't have to trust that, or believe it, and I don't have to try to help her anymore, when most all those, uh.... versions of her act and sound and do everything just like she always did."

He sighs, deeply, rubbing both hands over his face (and really making a further disaster of his facepaint). "...it doesn't make me a bad person, for just... not being willing to put myself in that position, with her, ever again..."

blurry-end-evil:

He listens quite patiently, ears twitching. "Thure. You're trying to convinthe me, or you ? Because." Loxi raises one finger. "To me you're, for onthe, right. Tho I don't need to be convinthed. Thecond-" He raises a second finger. "I'm no exactly good at comforting people tho I hope you don't expect that from me.

ad1ostoreador:

Tavros snorts again, muted, but almost smirks a little at him, ears still low. He doesn't know who he's trying to convince, honestly, but it does feel good to get the words out without anyone turning it into something other than what it is. "...Okay, I get it, you have a thing for 'two'... you don't have to try to convince me, I know..." blurry-end-evil:

Smirking back, he stick his tongue out at him. "I jutht, honethtly had only two pointth to make. Like often."

ad1ostoreador:

Tavros scratches his jaw with one finger. Maybe a rude finger. Oh look, there's the other one, to match. "...Maybe I just don't, uh... feel like going back inside, yet."

blurry-end-evil:

Nice, two of them. He snickers. "You better not. Your fathe lookth like a grub rolled in paint then rolled on your fathe."

ad1ostoreador:

"I'll clean it up and redo it... might keep wearing it, um, more often..." He shifts a little, wings making a subtle crickety rasp as the edge of one drags against the edge of the other.

blurry-end-evil:

"Thure ? I'm gueththing it'th a thing between you and Gamzee. I am not really contherned by thieth piethe of info." He's just a little perplexed.

ad1ostoreador:

"Yes... and also no? It's... I don't know. I guess... I want to, uh. Show some respect, toward the one who made this whole place." He shrugs, sheepishly.

blurry-end-evil:

He frowns, thinks. "Thith plathe is linked to the religouth figures of the clown church ?" Not that he knows them, he just. Suppose.

ad1ostoreador:

He's a bit surprised that Loxi has heard of them at all, to be honest. "Um... yeah, kind of. Maybe not in... exactly the way they thought, but. One's a destroyer... but the other one is a maker. This place exists because of the Muse..."

blurry-end-evil:

Between playing and sniffing online, he heard a lot. That and he still heard people talk around him, on the ship. "How do you know that ?"

ad1ostoreador:

"Because we met her..."

blurry-end-evil:

He's genuinely surprised. "Hm. Okay. What she lookth like ?" Loxi could call him a liar or naive, but. Doesn't sounds fitting, here.

ad1ostoreador:

"Tall... and, uh, green. Kind of... bony-scaly? She was... very different from anything that I might have expected."

blurry-end-evil:

"A thcalebeatht thkeleton ? Original." He's amused, but not like he doesn't believe him. Loxi he's pretty sure Tavros isn' tthe type ot invent this for fun. Further not since it's touching a topic important for his matesprit.

ad1ostoreador:

"Just... very different. Her, uh... 'brother' was tearing everything apart, where we came from. From the stuff she said, he... was the kind of same cheater Vriska always was. If he wasn't winning, he'd just... twist all the rules around, and make it so he had to, no matter what." He grimaces a little, giving his head a shake. "...I told her, the only way to, uh, win a game, with that kind of person, is to stop playing their game at all, and walk away."

blurry-end-evil:

He raise an eyebrow, interested by the story. 'Did she lithten ?"

ad1ostoreador:

"...I kind of... think that listening was maybe a thing that she did."

blurry-end-evil:

He burst in a snicker at that. "Shit, could oyu make thith thententhe even longer ? Normal people jutht thay 'yeth'. Or 'I think'." Loxi doesn't sound very mean, but he's definitely amused a mocking a little.

"And, tho. She created thith planet ? For you ?"

ad1ostoreador:

Tavros blinks at him, mock-innocently. "Maybe, I don't like to make, uhh, firm statements, about what reasons for doing something another person may have had, unless they have personally explained them? But... she made this place, and... I like to think it's for everyone who never got a chance, to be free from all of that time-loop stuff."

blurry-end-evil:

A grin. "You mean, every thtray troll you can manage to thave and bring here ?" This time it's a tease.

ad1ostoreador:

He huffs, quietly. "...I wasn't going to just sit around while an imperial ship caught up."

blurry-end-evil:

"Oooh, thir Nitram thank you for thaving my poor thcrawny athth~" Then he snickers. "Good thing you did, though. For me, at leatht. For you, I'm not thure, cause now you have to deal with me." He's grinning, highly amused.

ad1ostoreador:

"You're not, uh, nearly as bad as you think you are," Tavros points out, amused. "...Scrawny, yeah, but..."

blurry-end-evil:

He tries to take an offended face, but he can't fully erase his grin. "Excuse me ? I'm tho bad. A true movie villain. Awfulnethth in perthon. The evil thtraw, it'th me."

ad1ostoreador:

He rolls his eyes, then shoves his shoulder a little, but gently. "Okay, we've both met Vriska, I don't think anyone else is really going to, uhh... manage 'movie villain' levels of awful, compared to that." Being able to crack a joke about it is at least an improvement.

blurry-end-evil:

As a legitimate scrawny gremlin, he nearly stumble to the side at the shove. Is he exaggerating for dramatic effect ? No one will know. "Shit, you're right. I'll be thith annoying thecond role that always annoy everyone then. I let you the 'naive but big hearted' hero role. I know you want it."

ad1ostoreador:

"Okay, if that's what you, uh, insist..." He huffs, lightly, then just sighs, wings dragging faintly over each other again.

blurry-end-evil:

"What. You thee me as the hero of anything, really ?" He mocks, though he's probably rather mocking himself. Then, just because he can, Loxi use his psionics to start building a very small sand castle on Tavros's knee. Or shoulder, if the knee is obstrued.

ad1ostoreador:

"Strictly, uh, the sidekick. That's the, um, secondary role, right?" A little smirk. He doesn't move to dislodge the sand being piled up on his knee, though.

blurry-end-evil:

He huff, displeasure visible. "The thidekick is often jutht thtupid and clumthy to make the hero lookth better." He's making a neat little sandcastle. Tryings to get whatever not-sand he find to land in Tavros's hair. Enjoy cleaning that, Gamzee.

"I could be the one with brain thells and computer who's thaving the night by actually thinking and making plans tho the hero don't die, though."

ad1ostoreador:

"If you are watching movies where the, uhh, sidekick is stupid and clumsy, then probably I don't know what kind of movies you're watching, but you should maybe find better movies, that don't suck?" He snorts, then gives his head a shake to shake out debris all over Loxi, too.

blurry-end-evil:

Except avoiding getting them in his eyes, he doesn't bother avoiding or removing the debris. The sandcastle is not so miraculously still there, thanks to psionics. "I had only alternian movies. Where the thidekick is always a thtupid and clumthy lowblood, you know. And now I altho watched Moana, where her thidekick are a terribly thtupid featherbeatht and a thupposedly cute oinkbeatht. "

ad1ostoreador:

"We need to, uh, show you a bunch more human movies. They're really alien, in how they look at things, sometimes, but... some of them are actually pretty good." He brushes at his hair then, with one hand, still not minding the sand on his knee. "Anyway, I don't think that I have ever thought of you as, uhh, terribly stupid, or a featherbeast?"

blurry-end-evil:

"Thank you. " He says, wry and amused. "I know I'm rather a thmartathth, in every way. But thavynethth can't always thave you, or your friends."

Loxi shrugs, looking not bothered. Only looking, though. "I prefer to be thome shitty thidekick not allowed to pilot the ship in fear they'd make it crash, than to be the motor of thaid ship." It's said with a snicker.

ad1ostoreador:

Tavros laughs a little, shaking his head. "Well... being a, uh, power source isn't something which you will need to worry about, here, ever..." His smile fades, then. "...Sometimes, nothing can save anybody. But... sometimes we can."

blurry-end-evil:

He stares at Tavros, then turn towards the sea. Without his focus on, the sandcastle crumble on the troll's knee. "...Maybe thome can thave people, and others jutht attract death."

As if nothing happened, Loxi turn to grin mischieviously at the bronze. "You know, like thome kind of... unlucky charm. Garanted to not bring you luck."

ad1ostoreador:

His expression turns more serious, then. Severe, even. "...I don't believe that luck is, uhh... really a thing."

blurry-end-evil:

He lean back on one hand, tilting his head as he smile more than grin, for once. "Each one their beliefs, hm ?"

ad1ostoreador:

"Yeah, except when you're, uhh, just really wrong." A little bit of a shoulder-bump, fleeting contact. "Also, you're here now, so..." He dusts crumbled sand off his knee.

blurry-end-evil:

He's a little more ready this time, and just chuckle under his breath at the bump. Loxi is not... Really used to contact. Even before the helsman thing. "Jutht watch me, I'm gonna attract thome disathter on your pretty planet by the only forthe of exithting and being here."

He's... Only half serious.

ad1ostoreador:

Yeah, that makes two of them, between distance and social isolation. Even after a sweep or so with Gamzee, and time on the meteor before that, Tavros is... extremely skittish and careful about touching literally anyone else. "Or, you will be fine, and so will the rest of us, and also the planet..."

blurry-end-evil:

"I am very grateful for you to thay that." His face is serious, until it split in a grin. "Because either it'th true and then good, or you're wrong and the night it'll all go to shit I'll be able to thay 'I told you. I was right.'. A win-win."

ad1ostoreador:

"In that case, maybe I should point out that I'm right, in the meantime, every night." He sticks his tongue out a little.

blurry-end-evil:

Shit. He pouts, having not thought of that option. "Make it a thweep, and I'd call it fair."

ad1ostoreador:

"If we get to one whole sweep, and there, uh, hasn't been a disaster here, just because of you being here, specifically, then you have to publicly admit that you were wrong."

blurry-end-evil:

He winces, and actually weighs it... The tip of his tongue poking out as he calculate the odds. "...Okay. Deal. I guethth I don't need to find a forfeit for you, you'll have enough at handling the disathter and my gloating."

ad1ostoreador:

"Also, your computer having some kind of, uh, error, does not count as a disaster." Snort. "And you dropping a bowl of food on the floor, also, does not count as a disaster. And neither do things which have nothing to do with you, and that you could not possibly have caused."

blurry-end-evil:

He glares, but quick smile again... And lift a finger. "Firtht, my computer don't have error. Thecond -" And here lift the second finger. "Of courthe, we talk about real disathter here, not KK'th tantrum level.

ad1ostoreador:

"Just, uhh, preemptively ruling out some things, so you don't try to get away with claiming something silly as a 'disaster', to avoid admitting I was right..."

blurry-end-evil:

"You're thuggethting I'm a cheater ? I'm not. At leatht, not when I play againtht thomeone."

ad1ostoreador:

"That is, um, good, because I wouldn't want to play games with someone who cheats... but I am looking forward to winning, pretty thoroughly." He flashes a grin at him, almost cockily.

blurry-end-evil:

He can't help but grin back, excited at the prospect of challenge and safe competition. "You wish. I'll beat you at any game, TV." Maybe not, but Loxi believe it.

ad1ostoreador:

"It's going to be funny to, uh, watch you try, anyway," he retorts. It's definitely a safer way to compete. There's nothing enticing about real harm as physical stakes, to him. Not anymore, if there ever was.

blurry-end-evil:

They're two, then. As much as he likes competition, Loxi would probably panic at anything turning into a fight, or close to. Some child-like fight would be okay, but anythign more... Would not. "You dream as big as your horns, but I wouldn't bet a coin on your thkills."

ad1ostoreador:

"If you keep, uhh, pointing out my horns, I'm going to think you have a complex..." Tavros grins, teasing. "And also, out of the two of us, who on this beach right now, has been a ranking regional champion, at a game? Because I am pretty sure it's not you..."

blurry-end-evil:

A snort-huff. "You're kidding me ? You're the one talking about them as if you perthonnaly built them." He blinks at the next information. "If you're bragging about the fact you're a regional champion of thith planet, I wish to point out there's lethth than ten people living here..."

Loxi shrugs. "I've had my thuccethth on Alternia though. Got a pretty dethent claththment." He had the bad habit to quickly look at a game's code though, and it caused a bunch of ban. That and he liked to bother people even more than wining.

ad1ostoreador:

"Grew them myself," he adds, and waggles his brows a little.

"I'm not talking about this, uh, planet... I mean back on Alternia." His grin turns a little softer. A little sad. "With Aradia... we were pretty good players. Before, um... everything happened."

blurry-end-evil:

"Well, thame for my bulges and you don't hear me talk about them all the time." He mocks a bit, but his grin drops at the mention of Aradia.

"Oh, that. Yeah. She talked about it a lot, but I didn't know it was ranked." His face is neutral, which is his form of 'depressed', probably. Loxi likes to believe it's behind him. To pretend it's not keeping him up at noon. "Not the same as a video game, though." He tries to get the conversation on a less mourning topic, maybe.

ad1ostoreador:

Aradia's always been a... sensitive topic, for Tavros. Especially where any version of Sollux is involved. Some nights, he wants to just remember her, but blame is a complicated thing for them both. He lets the topic drop, aware that now probably isn't the best time, and settles for flicking a bit of sand at Loxi.

"Yeah, well, some of us aren't, uhh, allergic to going outside..."

blurry-end-evil:

"Computers are better inthide, and Alternia's outthide wasn't exactly a nithe walk in... WHatever is peaceful and thafe." He gesture vaguely to illustrate his thought.

ad1ostoreador:

"You also lived in a hivecluster." He shudders a little, exaggerated. "Too many people, all crowded together..."

blurry-end-evil:

"I didn't thee them much. And what can I thay. Inthide is just my natural habitat." He has... A ton of reason, for that. But none that he's willing to talk about. "My neighbourth had the good tathte to ignore me, and I did the thame. It was great. I didn't have to thit on the thand, getting thome probably everywhere up to my nook, to lithten thome rude troll inthult my thkillth at video gameth."

It was hard to miss the way Loxi was grinning at him though, Loxi making it obvious he was just teasing, and not truly minded. He would have left, if he did.

ad1ostoreador:

Tavros raises a brow, glancing down, then back up again, but says nothing further on the topic of Loxi's anatomy with regards to sand. "So, you're just doing all that, for the pleasure of my, um, company?" Smirk.

blurry-end-evil:

"Who knowth. I've always known to have shitty tathteth, after all." He smirks right back, raising an eyebrow.

#blurry end evil #narration mode #//cw: abuse mention

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richtozicr · 5 years ago

Text

LOVE’S GONNA GET YOU KILLED ----- BUT PRIDE’S GONNA BE THEDEATH OF YOU.

TW FOR HOMOPHOBIA, HATE CRIMES, BLOOD, AND SLURS. ( inspo. )

It’s hard to hear that a ton of different arcades are shutting down. It’s kind of depressing. The town over- the place that many would go to flex on people that didn’t live in the area- had lost their arcade a month ago. It made Derry’s arcade more popular. But it also brought a lot of strangers into Derry that Richie doesn’t actually know.

There’s a redhead that shows up one day and Richie is immediately captivated by him. He sits back, watching the other play Street Fighter with amazement. It doesn’t take awhile for Richie to realize he’s not paying as much attention to the boy’s gameplay and is now watching all the freckles on his face. Bright blue eyes trail down to the other’s lips before he catches himself and looks away fast. Guilty. He feels like a sinner. That’s what the church calls him. Not him, specifically. God, no one knows. Bowers has maybe a hint of knowledge. The same with his gang. Their murders flash through his memories. Brief seconds. Bowers is locked up for good. He’s safe. For now. It’s nothing to panic about.

He doesn’t even realize due to the fact that he was so caught up in thinking about everything that the redhead is now talking to him. His eyes dart up and Richie clears his throat to pretend like things are okay.

“You can play now, if you want,” is all Richie hears, as his eyes glance over at the high scores. TZR. Second. He rushes to the machine and looks at the high scores. Second?! He’d been top ranking in Street Fighter for three years straight. He looks at Rank #1. JMS. He turns back around to face the other and looks severely impressed.

“Woah, you’re insane,” is all he can get out. “Do you know how long it’s been since anyone’s even remotely tried to get top?” He asks, pushing up his glasses so he can just stare at the other. Richie is amazed. “I’m Richie, by the way. Most everyone calls me Trashmouth,” he sticks his hand out for the other to actually shake. Richie is more than excited to make another friend around his age who actually likes Street Fighter. The stranger shakes his hand, accepting the invite for friendship.

The stranger’s name is Jaymes. He lives another city away. Around a 25 minute drive. Richie wonders if this shit stain of an arcade is even worth it, but he’s also sure maybe he’d be the same way as this guy if Derry’s arcade shut down. Richie wonders what Jaymes’ score was back in his original arcade. How’d he get so good? Especially to beat Richie?

He spent the next two hours until the arcade closed just playing with Jaymes. The entire time, Richie felt like his heart was being thrown into his throat. This boy was cute and they had a lot of mutual interests besides Street Fighter. He figured that this would actually be a good way to be able to start getting friends that weren’t the losers club---- seeing as they had all started to slowly stop hanging out with each other. He still saw Stan, and he still saw Bill, and even he’d joke around with Eddie here and there, but it was like they were in high school now--- things changed. Bev had moved away and it was just difficult for any of them to care anymore.

It was good for the first few weeks. Great, even. Richie tried not to stare at Jaymes a certain way, or smile around him, but by god, he was hot and Richie couldn’t help but stare sometimes. He’d hope that Jaymes didn’t notice. He really did hope that Jaymes didn’t know. He remembers the day he asks Jaymes if he wants to catch a movie and that he heard great things about Edward Scissorhands. To Richie’s shock, the other actually agreed.

Richie had been waiting the whole week for the date-- well, though it was just literally the two of them catching a movie. It wasn’t a date. That’s what he kept having to remind himself as he got ready. He chose a muted colored hawaiian shirt this time, instead of opting for the more colorful ones he had suddenly acquired at the start of the decade. Something subtle. Something that wouldn’t gather too much attention to the two. Two boys seeing a movie together that wasn’t an action film? Especially since it was a romantic movie, according to critics. They were playing a risky game.

The movie had gone splendidly, though halfway through Richie had been distracted by the fact that Jaymes had actually held his hand. It was secret. Under the security blanket of their popcorn box---- no one would know either way. It had made Richie want to throw up he was so nervous. But he remembers glancing over and pushing his glasses up in the dimly lit theatre to look over at his date. Jaymes was just smiling back and Richie could have sworn he saw the other wink at him as they continued to hold hands throughout the rest of the movie.

As the movie ended, Richie left the theatre, unsure of what to say to Jaymes. The redhead had told him to walk him to his car and that he’d parked behind the theatre just to be on the safe side, and Richie believed him. They went down the alleyway next to theatre and stopped behind it. He saw a few employee cars but the workers were still definitely in the theatre. “Hey, I just wanted to thank you for coming with me. I know you didn’t have to or what----” The Tozier wasn’t entirely used to being interrupted so when the other actually leaned in and kissed him-- Richie’s heart soared. Holy shit. His first kiss. Oh god, he felt like a fucking fish. But he was so stunned. Once Jaymes pulled back, he just saw that the other was laughing after kissing him.

What? Wait, laughing? Richie was pretty damn sure he hadn’t said any type of joke. “Wha-- Sorry, uh,” Richie cleared his throat and felt his face was entirely heated. Pushing up his glasses quickly he looked back at Jaymes in confusion. “Sorry, like, that was my first kiss-- so I don’t really get what’s so fucking funny.”

“The funny thing is you actually were a fag. One of my boys pointed it out to me and at first I didn’t believe it. You queers really do fuckin’ think that you can just pretend to be straight to trick people into your little web, then you use them to get your own sick fantasies out of it ----” Richie looked stunned. He looked behind him after hearing a few leaves crunching in the street behind them. Oh god, had anyone seen them? Coming up on them was a group of four different guys. Maybe around their age. Richie didn’t recognize them either.

Richie suddenly realizes what’s going on. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. He has to get out of here. “No, no ---- fuck you, “ he spits, pushing at the other. “ You fucking kissed me you asshole. If anyone’s gay here it’s you. “ That’s about the last thing Richie can get out before he’s grabbed and held down by two of the guys that had come up behind them. He’s recognized them. Slightly. He’s pretty sure he’s seen them around Jaymes. This was all some fucking set up. He can’t even scream because if he grabs attention to this, someone’ll spill the beans that Wentworth Tozier’s son was kissing a boy behind the fucking cinema. It’d ruin his dad.

The first punch is what knocks his glasses off his face. It’s in his jaw and he’s automatically regretting ever laying eyes on Jaymes. He hears one of them --- a blur, he’s not even sure how close that person is to him---- pick up his glasses and then smash them on the ground. “Fuck off, all of y--- “ his face is slammed into the brick building. Once. Twice. Richie can already taste the iron dripping from his gums. Everything is a blur and it makes him feel dizzy. He’s surrounded and he keeps getting knocked down, picked back up again and he feels a lot of pain coursing through him.

It scares him. Is he about to die from a hate crime? Oh fuck, oh fuck he might die ---- until he hears one of them after what seems like ages. He’s pretty sure it’s Jaymes but he can’t see anything. It doesn’t help that he’s crying. He’s a fucking mess on the ground. “We don’t want to kill the faggot, “ is all he hears. It’s at least mercy. One of the other friends says that Richie deserves to die because they’re just spreading their fucking diseases everywhere anyhow. Richie spits out blood as he tries to pull himself up as they’re talking amongst themselves. A swift kick to his head knocks him out fully.

It’s maybe a few hours later when Richie finally comes to, on the floor next to a dumpster---- hidden, dried blood all over him. There’s also a foul stench that is something Richie recognizes but can’t actually figure out. It’s rancid. He feels around for his glasses on the ground, hoping they’ve at least let the glasses slide somewhere near him. It takes a few minutes for Richie to find his glasses and even hoist himself up. His glasses are broken. Half the glass is missing. He has a horrible prescription, so even telling his mother or father what happened is going to be hard. That’s money they have to spend, but his mom will make some quip about how all they do is spend money on Richie. Once his glasses are on his face, the bridge of the glasses hit up against his nose and it automatically makes him revolt in pain. Oh fuck. Oh god, his nose is absolutely broken. He leans up against the wall of the cinema and looks down at the dried blood everywhere. Then he notices the permanent marker that’s on the ground.

Oh no.

He’s not fast. He’s honestly wishing he had just never went back to walk Jaymes to his car. As he hobbles, he’s glad that it’s late in the night. Perhaps even early morning. Once he gets to his car, he realizes the paint that’s all over the windshield and he curses. Fuck. How’s he going to be able to get this off his car? Once he unlocks his car and gets in, struggling to not sit in a position that spikes pain through his body, he turns on a car light and looks at himself in the mirror.

There’s ‘FAG’ written all over his face in permanent marker. He just takes his hand and smears the blood over the words, hoping to god it helps masking a little bit of what he says. The key turns the car over and he is relieved to know the assholes didn’t siphon his car of gas, but he’s also dreading even driving home. He punches his steering wheel and just starts crying all over again. Who the fuck is he even going to go to?

Never mess with Derry. It was too dangerous of a place. No matter how hard people marched, Richie was pretty sure Derry, Maine was always going to be the worst place to grow up no matter who you were.

#「 HEADCANONS 」 → ❛ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵛᶦʳᵍᶦⁿˢ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᶦˢ ˢᵗᵘᶠᶠ.#homophobia tw #hate crime tw #blood tw #slurs tw #did i go into serious detail? no bc that shit kind of triggers me too SO #i mean it's... vaguely detailed #do i like how i ended it? no #but was it getting too long? yes #final word count 1925 #i've always had this headcanon that this canonly happens to richie #like worse than what we saw in the movie #and when i saw that tiktok i had so much inspo to write that for my richie #mutuals can reblog i guess

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minaminokyoko · 6 years ago

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Toy Story 4: A Spoilertastic Review

*huge sigh of relief* Disney/Pixar, y'all had me worried.

Truly. Honestly. Not that you guys aren't amazing, but the Toy Story films have a legacy that almost no other franchise period has: three perfect movies, and movies that improved with each sequel. Most of the time, trilogies can't pull that off. Sometimes you get three that are good, but there's a straggler in the bunch, like the original Star Wars trilogy or The Dark Knight saga. Like a lot of folks, I was sweating bullets when they announced TS4 because this is one of the only trilogies where each sequel was friggin' better than the last, and TS3, imo, might be the best Disney/Pixar film period. Honestly, it stands at the top of just animated films period, and so I was very nervous to think about trying for a fourth one.

I am very pleased to say TS4 is a worthy sequel. It's not empty, it's not lazy, it's great. I personally put it on the same level as the first movie. I do consider TS2 and TS3 to be better than this one, but not for a bad reason, simply because it's attempting something different from the previous films. This is another all-positive review for me; all I've got are nitpicks, no cons at all. Disney/Pixar did a great job creating what a friend of mine referred to as an epilogue story. That sounds about right to me. It's like there's a trilogy and an epilogue now to the Toy Story saga.

Overall Grade: A

Spoilers ahead.

-I really want to dive in to talk about the fact that while it might upset some people, this movie is about Woody, almost exclusively, and I actually like that a lot. I don't mind at all that this is a snapshot of dealing with change through Woody's perspective, and you know why? Man. Woody is a fucking great character. Really. To his core, he's a phenomenal, landmark, memorable character. I think as the years pass and people reevaluate what films will stand the test of time, animated or otherwise, people will realize that Woody is such a well-written, well-acted character. One of the things that I think got everyone ugly sobbing in TS3 was the way that Andy described Woody: "He'll never give up on you." That's it. That's why Woody is just such a charming character. He will do whatever it takes to do the right thing for the kids. Every time. No matter what it costs him. And that's why this movie took a big risk in breaking up the Toy Story family, but at the same time, it's giving Woody a path that allows him to do something he loves and that is important to him, and for him to be happy in the process. It's a very surprising and unique but realistic idea that Bonnie, while a great kid, wasn't the kid for Woody. But he cared so much for her that he wanted to make sure she got the right toy that will help her learn and grow. That's...fucking amazing, man. I got choked up. I really did. Woody's heart is so huge. And I love that this movie showed that he's been through some rough stuff and that it was time for him to be able to find his own happiness while still being able to help kids, because that's who he is. He's a leader. He cares to a fault. Woody is such a rich character and I'm really glad they got to focus on him and gave him a good send off. It's quite touching. I hate the idea of the gang breaking up, but the movie does an excellent job of explaining change. I like this motif. Things change. Something you always dreamt of might be different. Or things end and you have to move on and try something else. It's a great lesson for all of us to learn, and it took some serious courage to do that in a franchise so known for its ensemble cast and family. I dig it. I truly do.

-Bo and Woody had me all up in my feels. Oh, man. When she was taken...my fucking heart...oh, that hit me right in the feels. I love how they filmed the reunion, too, that the first time he saw her again they were both having to be inert at the time. That was so cleverly done, and it's so apparent how soft they are for each other. It's really sweet. I enjoyed getting to see their dynamic, even with things being strained between them. The hat thing gets me every time. I love nuance, and Bo pulling down his hat is just the cutest little gesture that sells the entire relationship. I enjoyed Bo getting to be active and frankly badass, because it's super cool to see a girl's toy everyone would think is too delicate to be played with be at the forefront of the action.

-I enjoyed Gabby being a sympathetic antagonist. That's awesome. I always applaud movies that can pull it off. It's easy to write a one note villain. It's much, much harder to write one who has a story and who has something that they want, and that the hero is standing in their way. I also think it's a GREAT lesson for kids growing up. Sometimes the thing you think you want isn't what it seems. There are going to be SO many moments in a kid's life where they've been dying to get something, and it's a big disappointment in the end, or they don't get it at all. Wow. Powerfully done. And the scene with the little lost girl damn near made me shed actual tears. That was nothing short of beautiful. Because that is what it's like for kids. Kids get scared, and sometimes the smallest thing encourages them. It hearkens back to what Woody did on Bonnie's first day, getting her the supplies to make Forky and getting her confidence and creativity up. Fuck, that melted my heart. Gabby's story was fantastic, and touching, and a really good use of an antagonist. I was very, very satisfied with how they handled it.

-Centering everything as one big chase scene, kind of Mad Max: Fury Road in a weird way, was a lot of fun. It kept you guessing and it kept things fresh. I also am really impressed that they managed to unnerve the unholy hell out of me with Gabbie and the puppets. I'm actually not scared of puppets, but the way that they moved was very, very creepy, and I would never have expected it from Toy Story. Nice job, guys.

-Forky is the right balance of being a naive, hapless character without being annoying. I was worried his antics would get old, but actually, no. I didn't hate him. I like that Woody was frustrated, but he didn't hate the little guy and he wasn't jealous of him. He did the right thing and he helped Forky understand what toys are all about, and it's very heartwarming.

-Duke Kaboom was such a treat. I'm really happy everyone is now on the Keanu boat, because I've been a stan for that man since the fucking 90's and it's so satisfying to see others join me. He really is a fun, sweet human being, and his character is delightfully over the top. I loved him. It worked really well with the rest of the film, and I am all about the Keanussance/Reevessance that's going on right now. Keep it up. You're breathtaking.

-Goodness me, I just need to note how gorgeous the effects are. I mean, it's Disney/Pixar, it's always gorgeous, but for instance, the rain sequence in the beginning was incredible. That water...man...they are so exceptional at details and realism all while still creating their own look. Bravo, man.

-The payoff of the little guy getting his high five finally was fucking adorable. This is what makes me love Disney/Pixar so much, too. It's the little things that put a smile on your face. How cute.

Nitpicks:

-Key and Peele were annoying. There. I said it. I fucking hate them both, and they were annoying. But thank God, they were more cameo characters than main leads. Throw them both in the trash, though. Ugh.

-I don't like that Gabby needing to switch out the voice box had zero consequences. That was...odd. And kind of like cheating. I got really excited when Woody allowed it to happen so he could get Forky back, but then nothing bad happened. I thought that maybe Woody's voice would be damaged, go in and out, or he'd be mute, and it would show what a sacrifice he made for Bonnie. Nope. It had no negative consequences, so it almost makes me wonder why they did that. It ended up a moot point, and invalidated the conflict.

-I'm waffling on how I feel about Bonnie just forgetting about Woody entirely. Mind you, this is realistic. This is how small kids work. They move abruptly and often without explanation. But thematically, I sort of wanted her to notice him gone, if only to tie off how I felt about how far Woody was willing to go to make her happy. But at the same time, that's kids for you. Things happen fast. She's going to be happy, and so will the rest of the toys, and that's the most important thing in the end.

-I did actually want a longer scene of just Woody and Bo together, catching up. I don't feel robbed, but I was letdown because I wanted to know more about them since they seem to truly click and feel strongly for one another. I'd have liked to see them just sit and talk for a moment, but the film had too much urgency, so unfortunately we had to keep moving.

I only just got home, so I don't know if other reviews are out, but let me go ahead and say that if anyone is shitting on this film, I guarantee you it's people who don't like change. This film is different and it takes risks and in the end, it is about Woody and not the rest of the toys, so it is going to step on some toes. However, it has earned a spot on the shelf next to the other movies. Trust me, its heart is in the right place and it's still keeping our legacy of films on par with each other. I don't feel that it takes anything away from them, and is simply a send off to a character I think will stand the test of time as one of the greats. I'm glad it was just as worthy as I hoped it would be.

#toy story 4 #toy story #movie review #film review #spoilers #spoiler alert

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universal-kitty · 5 years ago

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.: Drama Involving AJ :.

Stylized ‘til I die, I guess. Anyways.

This is talking about phasefuck/huckerbee/teafrogs/whatever their URL is this week. AJ/Lee. The compilation of what’s happened involving them.

So... Starting at the beginning.

D was the reason I got into Borderlands. I watched her play TFTBL and gush about Rhys and get more involved and understand the ship she had! Also got my first crush on Zer0, but... Y’know.

So I did some art, started plotting ideas for who’d eventually be Gremlin- aka Rena Marlow, my SI for BLands- and that led...to us meeting AJ. They wanted me or D to join their server. D preferred because of her self-ship with Rhys, but I could join, too. D was nervous about new, strange people and I wanted to learn more about Borderlands and try new things, so... I hopped in, D stayed behind.

The time with them was pretty fun! Ended up making some friends, plotted fun ideas for AJ’s idea of the time, Borderlands Infinite. A continuation of Tales as AJ saw it. The server was made PRIMARILY for this endeavor and everyone in it was allowed an OC or self-insert to be paired with whoever they wanted to be with....long as they were open, that is. AJ had HJack, and everyone else... Well, most of the spares had been paired off by the time I joined.

Rhys was potentially still open, cause someone AJ had previously been talking with...either wasn’t responding, or had dropped out entirely. I forget by this point. Zer0 wasn’t an option and I didn’t know much of the others, so.... I accepted Gremlin to be paired with Rhys.

Thus the origins of my verse with Rhys. (As well as the OT3 with him and Vaughn... They started here.)

Tension was pretty high in the group and- though I didn’t acknowledge it at the time- it was primarily from AJ. Nobody else could like Handsome Jack “too much”... You could be playful about him, a little joke-flirty...but if you were suspected to like HJack, then you were “stealing” him from them. Because of this- while the group was friendly enough- it was hard to get into the “share faves” vibe that a lot of us seemed to have; gushing about a character that wasn’t your own just......felt weird.

Not sure if anyone else noticed, but that was my experience.

Anyways, I helped AJ with their story a lot due to being online a ton, with no work to do. We talked on the daily about what Rena could do, what Helios was like, how the story would go... The long-term slowburn we were putting Rena and Rhys through. I praised their art and ideas, they cheered for Rena/Rhys. It was pretty mutually supportive....

...Until AJ kicked fits. I was always online, so what about everyone else?? When I wasn’t online- sometimes if I was- I’d get put on a pedestal for helping out while others said nothing. (Essentially saying something like “Aki helps out all the time, but nobody else does” or, the popular one, “maybe I should just delete this since nobody cares.” I don’t have screenshots of this for reasons that’ll be explained in a moment.)

We typically talked them out of these, but eventually... It did happen. AJ messaged me that the old group had been deleted and there was now a new group of only the ACTIVE people. This left me and a few others, thought some other people would eventually cycle in. (One of which still being someone I look up to even today!! Even if we don’t talk much, lol.)

I got more creative freedom during this time, since other people “lost out” in their spots and... Somehow, this led to me taking on Nisha, too. I paired her with my OCs, Pyrotech and Meowzer. (Ex-Creepypasta OCs revamped for BLands. Is this my origins for my Nisha ship? Kinda!!!)

But by this point... I had grown to *really* like HJack. I’d made a slip before (more on that later), but learned his character very well and even played him for roleplays AJ and I were doing. AJ played themself and Rhys; I controlled Jack and Rena. All that research led to feelings....and ones I knew AJ wouldn’t approve of. So I did two things, right off the bat: kept my head down and immediately worked on justifying why I liked him. See, it’s because...it’s not the “canon” Handsome Jack!! The one I ship with has golden clasps! So they’re not the same!! And uhhhh....more bad things happened to him? He dresses more lavishly...?

I kept trying to come up with ways AJ might approve of my AU Jack without invoking their wrath. Not that...it would end up doing much, in the long run.

I invited one of my friends to join during this. One who also liked HJack...and proved my worries right. (Checked my Discord; I still have some of the messages!!! Whoop, here we go...)

Don’t have screencaps of the drama that proceeded to unfold- especially due to AJ blocking me on Discord and so losing all of our conversation- but.... That’s just how THAT is, I guess.

They did get super cold after and I had to explain things to my friend, while also assuring AJ that I would handle things and it’d be alright. It was an uncomfortable hiccup, but one that went by easily enough...

Though as I said, it was a significant event to show me how careful I needed to be when it came to HJack and AJ.

Also during this time... Another friend I’ll just refer to as P. We’d also been roleplaying in this time and having a blast. Absolute joy and- we don’t talk much anymore- but I do still consider them a dear friend. I played as CEO Rhys for them and they were Handsome Jack for me; we played our characters (my SI, their OC) and just... Had so much fun with it all.

So then... Amidst all the fun, it eventually happened.

What I described in this callout post.

AJ and I...we ended up dating at some point. I thought they were cool, we got along well, talked a LOT and all this... So I didn’t see a problem with it. Why not? I’ll get to have an awesome artist S/O with their cool ship and all their ideas... We’re gonna be unstoppable!

...But I also had abandonment issues. Too many times did I pour my all into someone, only to be left empty. I’ve always been the most supportive person in a room, trying to uplift EVERYONE to feel good! Cause yeah, everyone deserves that! AJ knew this. We’d talked about our issues and vented.....

And they still did that. They left my server as I slept. Blocked me on Discord, though I didn’t notice it at first.

...It was the one day I checked Tumblr first. They left their blog for a new one. Okay!! I’ll follow them on there, then! I did, and checked Discord. That was in the vent channel, and this was sent to me by a mutual friend.

So that’s how I woke up that day. Suddenly alone and single. And very, very depressed. I would end up posting these as my friends had to help me down:

“ ……now I wish I would’ve gotten lost after all or kept sleeping ….nothing is work being awake right now”

“ I just don’t want to exist I hate myself all over again I can’t get past that”

“ AJ just…..dropped me. Just like that. I didn’t know and tried to follow her new blog….. Either they just soft-blocked me or outright blocked me

“I feel so fuckin’ horrible”

At the time, I was horribly depressed due to outside causes. I was suicidal at the time and getting into some light, risky behavior in hopes it could be a factor in the end of my life. (I would walk around at night, hoping that the growing heat would either cause heat exhaustion or someone would attack me. Abduct me. Whatever meant that I would be gone and in pain.)

I later learned that this is actually learned behavior; my dad would react in extremist ways to things (something broke? “I want to kill myself.”) and so I probably learned it from him. This has actually made managing my suicidal thoughts easier, but at the time, I did not know this and put me more at risk.

Though this then kept continuing.... Because of course these things do.

It starts all over with me trying to move on. Someone was advertising their self-ship server, I wanted to try again and make friends... So I gave it a shot and joined!

....AJ was in there.

I quickly left as soon as I had entered, telling the owner I couldn’t stay due to troubles with someone else in there. They were understanding and, thankfully, that was that.

...But it STILL wasn’t. These are older messages, so I can’t get them together as much as I’d like to (in one screenshot, is what I’m saying) so I’ll also quote these, but if anyone needs screenshot proof, I can get that on request.

Anyways, our mutual friend (I’ll nickname her MF for “mutual friend” lol) later piped up with this:

05/19/2018 “So, aj invited me to a group chat and I'm a pushover who hasn't been able to cut them off yet so I said yes and boi I'm big uncomfortable now Like I thought I could maybe juggle being friends with both aj and Rachel even after what aj did but I was wrong.

“But idk what do now. I don't know what to say to them because I don't want to just drop them without saying anything. No doubt that'll get them talking about me behind my back”

.:.

“I might try that. I might mute the server so that I don't have to deal with that because i can't stay in it but I don't want to start shit by leaving I mean they are acting like Rachel is in the wrong”

.:.

“That they "stole their f/o" and that they are going to take the dragon idea that Rachel had for blands and "make it better" out of spite And I'm not happy”

.:.

“Well I just typed up a long message and while I'm glad I'll finally cut out a toxic person I'm also super nervous

“I sent it and left the server

“Wow okay all I got was a "Bye then" I sent a long ass message. Explaining my side and why. Hoping they'd understand and they just said bye then??????”

As you can see.... Everyone who’d been in that server (me, P, and MF) were on-edge about the “talking behind our back” issue that MF confirmed above. I figured it would happen, but it did...and that was a league all it’s own. (Especially when the callout post went around, and it got confirmed AGAIN that slander in my name was still going around.)

But one more thing happened that triggered this onslaught... Remember my RP w/ P? Well, this happened.... [TW for daddy kink mention? Calling themself Daddy?? That thing.]

Link to Ask.

Was never reblogged. Sent to me by a friend. To my knowledge, nobody spread this around AT ALL. But this was brought up in the same vent/time period as the above conversation.....

MF: Aj said that Rachel stole hj from them.

Me: Me, apparently. It's somewhere between that post and the ask (I think?) P sent me..... Which I loved and was hella surprised over, but. Oh boy.

Fren (aka owner of Karma): My god wtf can she like calm tf down

MF: They actually were mad that people were reblogging a post of yours, probably the kitten thing, that was about hj because it's "gross"

Fren: geeze Aj grow up

Me: ??????? Nobody reblogged it, tho

MF: Hmmmmm they vagued about someone shipping with him, someone they had blocked, that liked the daddy kink and stuff

I mean. I get it’s a gross thing for people, but.... HJack has also called himself “daddy/papa” on more than one occasion. It’s up for debate if he does it because he is Literal Dad or because he’s that nasty, but... Considering everything else he does, the latter seems the most obvious. That’s just how he is.

Anyways. The point being that we had each other mutually blocked by this point. I had people either block me, soft-block me, OR just outright unfollow + soft-block me because they were more trusting of AJ than of me. So to hear that they somehow knew P was sending me that ask...... Either someone TOLD them or they were stalking my blog to see what I was doing while they were gone.

Either way, not great. (What was pretty funny is I later made a joke about “stealing the rights to Handsome Jack from 2k so nobody else can do anything with him” and that “I’m a wanted man”... That’s nice.)

And so... We get to more recently.

Last I personally heard, I had to do some personal checking that led up to this... Saw leeships in self insert tag. New self-ship blog, so I blocked, as well as checking their blocked main to make sure everything lined up....and was greeted with this.

They’ve since changed their URL- again- but the fact they’re STILL being petty towards D is just....something else.

Speaking of, I’m not actually...sure where that started. There was a whole conversation we had over how AJ treated D out of sight of others (they talked over IMs, I guess because we were budding friends at the time, and what else do I do but hype up all my friends?) There was a lot of attention-seeking behavior from AJ (showing their art and then getting mad when D or Fren tried to compliment them for “lying” about the compliment...?), but far as I knew/remember, there wasn’t any bigger issue.

...After we broke up, however, an issue began as D and I became better friends. Friends stick with friends, D knew AJ, so when the blocking-bug was going around, D blocked them, too.

Which eventually snowballed into the bullshit you can still see today. With AJ trying to claim that D is the one dealing out harassment when- at worst- maybe D did talk too much and AJ didn’t deal with it in a healthy way. (Because that is an issue I’ve heard of; except AJ freaked out over it, instead of talking it out like a healthy adult and figuring out how they could balance out the conversation. Seriously. I’ve had this talk with D. We don’t dominate our conversations at all; nobody over the other. If there ever was a problem, then literally just saying “Hey, I don’t feel heard/listened to when I talk about my ship” was all AJ ever needed to say, but....... Y’KNOW.)

I’m not D, so I can’t say the full scenario of that, but this is the best way I can show there was a middle ground AJ could’ve used to work things out, but they didn’t.

Oh, and just so I’m not saying things if you haven’t already seen this... Here’s a screenshot someone (for privacy’s sake) got of AJ trying to pin the blame on D for being the “real harasser” in their BYF:

We all just wanted to get over this. However, D and I especially don’t want to get involved with or be AROUND AJ/Lee in any way. So we keep an eye on what they do so we can feel safe. We DON’T want to forgive AJ/Lee (for obvious reasons), so we keep blocking their accounts and/or make sure they’re still on our blocklist.

I know I’ve resorted to putting their URLs on BLACKLIST to make sure I don’t see them at ALL because of how much stress they put me under just seeing them around.

What the hell do THEY have to be stressed about? Dealing with people they hurt for BEING hurt and not wanting them around us anymore?? Fuck....

.:.

Anyways. I guess that about concludes all I wanted to write about. Friendly reminder that their old callout post is here and while I doubt a new one will crop up any time soon (as I sure don’t want to write one that’ll get around, after the last time I had a friend try to help me do a callout post on someone like this), you can at least look up that one more time after reading this.

So...... That’s the end. Thanks for reading this and I’m sorry if anything was upsetting.

...If you want, you can come to the ask box and ask for a gif of your F/O? Or a cute puppy or kitten? Maybe I can find some nice fanart for you as comfort...? IDK, options.

#Aki speaks #It's the Discourse

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