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kyratittyfish · 2 years ago

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I posted 316 times in 2022

That's 316 more posts than 2021!

54 posts created (17%)

262 posts reblogged (83%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@painterofhorizons

@commander-krios

@miniature-space-hamster

@comeoniwantacoolname

@hunnybadgerv

I tagged 225 of my posts in 2022

Only 29% of my posts had no tags

#mass effect - 97 posts

#jeff joker moreau - 73 posts

#commander shepard - 31 posts

#my writing - 28 posts

#shoker - 27 posts

#holy shit this art is good - 25 posts

#mass effect fanfic - 22 posts

#this looks amazing - 18 posts

#fic recommendation - 17 posts

#between the end and the beginning - 16 posts

Longest Tag: 102 characters

#jumped off an office chair and my knee had a very short and passionate meeting with the table’s corner

My Top Posts in 2022:

Between the End and the Beginning - WIP snippet

slowly but steadily, this fic is coming along! Writing this is probably the only thing keeping me sane as I study for the last exam of my university career :D Here's a snippet from the 'Aftermath' chapter. Hope you like it!

It was a comforting sensation, the warmth of the blankets and the sight of the stars, and he embraced it, along with the sweet -if brief- thoughtlessness that came with it.

Outside the reinforced glass, millions of shimmering dots speckled the absolute blackness, their faint lights nowhere near enough to break through the dark emptiness of the cosmos. And so many light-years between each of them. Here among the stars, it was easy to feel lost and insignificant, a fading particle of dust against the endless expanse of time and space. All his life so far, and all the life he had yet to live, mattered next to nothing to the vastness of the universe. And why would it? His mere decades were less than droplets in an endless ocean compared to the eons and eons of a star’s lifetime.

Once, this thought would have scared the crap out of him. Tonight, however, Jeff found it oddly reassuring. The stars didn’t care about his struggles. They’d seen much worse and they were still there, eternal and unmovable.

He wished he had one ounce of their stoic indifference.

But no. Life rolled a 1 on mindfulness and gave me crippling anxiety instead.

He slid down the bed, turning on his right side to face the window, and readjusted the pillows and blankets until he was swaddled in them like a soft cocoon and the soothing heat almost reached his heart.

A few constellations seemed familiar - Is this Decoris? Nah, the relay’s on the wrong side - and he slipped a hand out of his bedspread wrapping to trace the pattern of stars on the cold glass.

If this is Farinata, that means we jumped from the Charon relay straight to Antaeus and we’re now in the Hades Gamma cluster. It made sense - the sector was crossed by the Anansi-Ishtar trading route, and its heavy mercantile traffic made it the ideal place for ships wishing to cover their traces. Even assuming his conclusions were right, though, the new information gave him no insight into where the Cerberus cruiser was taking him. It was still a pastime good as any to keep his mind occupied, at least.

He followed a few more paths, running the tip of his index finger on the smooth surface of the window to connect planets, stars, moons and relays.

Fortuna. Nephron. Enoch. Hydra.

With every line, every dot, his eyelids became heavier and recalling systems harder.

Micah. Illium. Omega.

He was already asleep before he could name Alchera.

11 notes - Posted June 26, 2022

Can I prompt a little fic maybe, Shepard having a nightmare or flashback and being comforted by Joker? :D

Sure, prompts are always welcome! Anyway, this "little fic" turned into a 4.4k words story, hope you like it!here

Read it on Ao3

Read it on ff.net

Burns like a forest fire

The undergrowth was soft and damp under Shepard’s bare feet. The air was crisp and felt pleasantly chilly on her cheeks, and a gentle breeze carried around the scent of pines and dew-splashed grass.

She put one hand forward and let the sunlight paint a play of lights on her skin, casting shadows of the thousand branches, leaves, and bird nests separating her from the light blue sky above, shielding her from the galaxy and all her fights and obligations.

She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so relaxed: the quiet was so deep and serene, it saturated the atmosphere, soaked through her skin and bones and muscles. It reached the depths of her own soul and made her forget everything that wasn’t this, and now. Come to think of it… how did she end up there?

I suppose it doesn’t matter all too much; she muttered to herself. I’d better enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasts.

She could hear the gurgling sound of water flowing in the distance- a stream, perhaps? Or maybe a small waterfall? Curious, she decided to investigate: was there a more perfect place than a forest creek to sit down in the shade and enjoy the nice weather? The murmur seemed to come from her left, so that’s where she headed.

She walked for a few minutes, or maybe longer- she had no way to tell without her omnitool. Did I forget to wear it when I got out of bed this morning? This wasn’t like her but then again, she’d been under an immense amount of pressure lately and she was still human after all.

Step by step, as she got closer to its source, the noise grew louder masking the chirping above and the buzzing of insects below her…

Until it suddenly stopped.

Even the bird had ceased singing, and the wind blew through the fronds without making a sound.

What is happening?

Did she go deaf all of a sudden? Maybe her cybernetics were malfunctioning- I should ask Chakwas or Miranda to take a look at them.

She took a step forward, and the crunching of dead leaves under her feet broke the silence.

This is strange.

At least her ears were still working.

A shiver ran down the back of her neck all the way to her fingertips, making the fine hair over her arms raise to attention. She looked up to study the thick curtain of clouds obscuring the sun, dark gray spots looming above her through the trees.

How is that possible? It was sunny up a few moments ago…

Something else felt off about her surroundings, and it wasn’t just the unnatural silence. Had the canopy of threes been that autumnal reddish-brown hue all along? She seemed to recall vibrant shades of green coloring the branches and flowers littering the verdant grass under her feet. Now a carpet of moss and fallen foliage gave way under her feet.

A few white specks started littering her vision, falling slowly to the ground from above, a few of them finding their resting place in her hair. Was that… snow?

I need to get away from here.

Shepard quickened her pace, despite having no idea of where she was going - she supposed moving in any direction at all was better than spending another minute in that unpredictable forest. She stumbled over a sharp rock and hissed in pain- why was she barefoot in the woods, anyway?

It wasn’t completely silent anymore, she realized. The pounding of her heartbeat and the creaking of the dead twigs snapping at each step almost covered the distant sound of…

Voices?

“Is somebody here? Can you hear me?”

Shepard was running now, but the whispers were all around her. They echoed beyond the leafless trees, reaching up to the sky above the bare branches that were waving towards the dark clouds like thousands of arms desperately begging for salvation.

Whoever they were, they were coming closer. And, she realized with horror, they were calling her name.

See the full post

14 notes - Posted May 6, 2022

Fics masterlist

You can find me on Ao3 as tittyFish (yeah, I know, my username is awesome), or on ff.net as StargazerKyra.

I hope you enjoy reading my fics as much as I loved writing them!

Space monkeys and space trees

One of Hackett's errands has Shepard climbing up a tree to go after a pyjack. set during ME1.

read on tumblr | Ao3 | ff.net

Of fish and fireplaces

In which Shepard is a terrible fish owner, EDI is a snitch, and Joker can't deal with compliments. Set during ME3.

read on tumblr | Ao3 | ff.net

Doctor's orders

Joker has a string of bad luck that lands him in the med bay. Luckily, Doctor Chakwas is there to take on her unofficial ship mom role. Set during ME3.

read on | Ao3 | ff.net

Burns like a forest fire

During the events of ME3, Shepard is plagued by nightmares. After a particularly horrific one, Joker tries to comfort her, but the Commander's walls are hard to tear down. Set during ME3.

read on tumblr | Ao3 | ff.net

Thunderstruck

A cabin in the woods, a warm couch, cuddles, a fluffy dog, and no Reapers in sight: Shepard and Joker’s post war happily ever after is looking as relaxing as ever. Until natural forces add to the mix, that is.

Read on tumblr | Ao3

…and a drink with two umbrellas

The last time Alexandra Shepard and Joker tried to have a fun, relaxing night out, they were almost killed by her evil clone. They deserve a proper dinner date to make up for that fiasco. Hopefully, this time it'll be a less eventful one. Written for the ShepardSummer2022 exchange.

Read on Ao3

Between the end and the beginning

It was supposed to be a simple patrol run, but life is never that simple. Death, unfortunately, often is. After Alchera, Joker knows it all too well. But sometimes, death is not the end and life gets a second chance. Follow Joker as he deals with the consequences of the Collectors attack on the Normandy SR1, and eventually finds a new beginning.

Chapter 1: Mayday. An unknown enemy takes down the SR1, and Commander Angela Shepard with it. Read on Ao3

Chapter 2: Choices. Dr Chakwas receives an unexpected visit, and an alarming phone call. Read on Ao3

Chapter 3: Aftermath. As they deal with the consequences of the previous night events, Chakwas makes Joker an offer he can't refuse. Read on Ao3

Chapter 4: Roots. After joining Cerberus, Joker spends some time with his family. Read on Ao3

Chapter 5: Steps. Frustration and doubts pile up as Joker goes through the intense medical treatment Cerberus has planned for him. Doctor Chakwas is determined to show him her support. Read on Ao3

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

15 notes - Posted May 11, 2022

Hello everyone!

I’ve been rather silent for the past month or so- to make a long story short, October started with a new job as a teacher, went on with a close encounter of the awful kind with Covid, and ended with me being accepted into a PhD program.

But I’m back, and with news: after months of work, I’m proud to announce I’m finally publishing my first multi-chapter fic ever, Between The End And The Beginning.

I posted snippets, I’ve raved about it… and now it’s finally here, so enjoy the read!

A special thanks to my muses @painterofhorizons and @commander-krios (who also did an amazing work as a beta reader), and to @spaced0lphin cause of course this fic will eventually evolve into pure Shoker, and the HatBoy mod has provided the best inspiration for it.

18 notes - Posted October 31, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

This post is for anyone participating in the ShepardSummer2022 exchange.

Since the organizer hasn’t been able to keep up with the exchange, I’m taking over the gift reveal process.

Unfortunately, I don’t have access to the list of participants and matches- if you’re participating (either as a giftee/gifter or as a treat creator), please fill this form so that I can begin the gift reveal process as soon as possible.

Also, it’d greatly help if you could share this post so that it can reach as many exchange participants as possible!

Thank you!

https://forms.gle/Cn627NzgyRV7CWQ26

19 notes - Posted September 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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ashif544 · 6 months ago

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How Do Laptop Skin Covers Protect Your Device from Scratches?

Laptop skin covers are an excellent way to protect and personalize your laptop. They are designed to shield your device from daily wear and tear, especially scratches. In this comprehensive blog, we will delve into how laptop skin cover protect your device from scratches, covering the materials, application process, benefits, and much more.

Introduction to Laptop Skins

Laptop skins are adhesive covers that you apply to your laptop's outer surface. They come in various designs, colors, and textures, allowing you to customize the look of your device while providing a protective layer.

The primary purpose of a laptop skin is to protect the laptop from scratches, dings, and other superficial damage. These skins are typically made from durable materials that can withstand daily use and minor impacts, keeping your laptop looking new for longer. Besides protection, laptop skins can enhance the aesthetic appeal of your device, making it a reflection of your style.

Materials Used in Laptop Skins

Laptop skins are made from various materials, each offering different levels of protection and aesthetic appeal. Common materials include vinyl, silicone, and hard plastic. Vinyl is famous for its flexibility and ease of application, while silicone provides a more rubberized, cushioned feel.

Vinyl skins, in particular, are known for their scratch-resistant properties. They are designed to absorb and deflect minor abrasions, ensuring that the laptop surface underneath remains pristine. High-quality vinyl skins can also be UV-resistant, preventing them from fading or degrading. Hard plastic skins, while less flexible, offer robust protection against impact and scratches, ideal for those who need extra durability.

The Science of Scratch Protection

Scratches occur when a sharp or rough object comes into contact with a surface, causing damage. Laptop skins protect against scratches by providing a barrier between the laptop and potential scratch-causing objects. The skin's material is engineered to be stricter than the typical items that might scratch your computer.

The adhesive used in laptop skins also plays a crucial role. It ensures that the skin remains securely attached to the laptop, even around the edges, where scratches are most likely to occur. This secure attachment helps prevent dirt and debris from getting under the skin and causing damage. Additionally, the skin's texture can be designed to resist scuffing, maintaining a smooth and unmarred surface.

Easy Application and Removal

Applying a laptop skin is a straightforward process that can be done without professional help. Most skins come with a peel-and-stick adhesive backing, making it easy to align and apply the skin to your device. The application process ensures the skin adheres smoothly without air bubbles or creases.

When it comes time to remove the skin, high-quality options are designed to peel off cleanly without leaving residue. This is important because leftover adhesive can attract dirt and cause scratches. The ease of removal means you can change skins regularly, keeping your laptop protected and stylish. Reapplying new skins also allows for updates in style or branding without any risk to the laptop's surface.

Full Coverage Designs

Many laptop skins are designed to cover the entire surface of your device, including the top, bottom, and sides. This full coverage ensures that all exposed areas are protected from scratches. Some skins also include additional pieces for the palm rest and keyboard area.

Full-coverage designs are particularly beneficial for preventing scratches on the edges and corners of the laptop, which are more susceptible to damage. By protecting these vulnerable areas, full-coverage skins help maintain the overall integrity and appearance of your laptop. This comprehensive protection means every part of your laptop that could be exposed to wear and tear is shielded, extending the life of your device.

Custom Fit and Precision

High-quality laptop skin covers are precisely cut to fit specific laptop models. This custom fit ensures that all ports, buttons, and vents remain accessible while providing maximum protection. The precision of the cut also enhances the aesthetic appeal, giving the laptop a seamless, integrated look.

Custom-fit skins prevent the edges from lifting and peeling, exposing the laptop to scratches. The snug fit ensures the skin stays in place, offering continuous protection without compromising functionality or style. This attention to detail ensures that the skin does not interfere with the laptop's use, providing a hassle-free protective solution.

Thickness and Durability

The thickness of a laptop's skin contributes to its protective qualities. Thicker skins offer more cushioning and resistance to scratches while still being thin enough not to add bulk to your computer. The durability of the material ensures long-lasting protection.

Durable skins are designed to withstand everyday use and environmental factors such as heat, moisture, and UV exposure. This durability means the skin will protect your laptop effectively over time without deteriorating or losing its protective capabilities. The right balance of thickness and durability is crucial for effective scratch prevention.

Protection Against Everyday Hazards

Laptop skins protect against a variety of everyday hazards that can cause scratches. These include keys, pens, and other items in bags and backpacks. Skins prevent these objects from directly contacting the laptop surface by providing a barrier.

Additionally, laptop skins can protect against abrasions caused by rough surfaces, such as tabletops or desks. This protection benefits students, professionals, and anyone who frequently transports their laptops between different locations. The skin acts as a shield, preserving the pristine condition of your computer.

Enhancing Grip and Handling

Another benefit of laptop skins is the enhanced grip they provide. Skins made from materials with a textured or rubberized surface can make it easier to hold and carry your laptop, reducing the risk of accidental drops.

Enhanced grip also means less sliding on smooth surfaces, which can further prevent scratches. This added layer of security is beneficial for those who use their laptops in dynamic environments where stability and secure handling are essential. The improved handling reduces the likelihood of accidents that can lead to scratches or more severe damage.

Preventing Cosmetic Damage

Cosmetic damage can significantly reduce a laptop's aesthetic appeal and resale value. Scratches, scuffs, and other minor imperfections can accumulate over time, making the laptop look worn and aged.

Laptop skins prevent cosmetic damage by maintaining the laptop's original surface in pristine condition. This is especially important for those who plan to resell their laptops or use them in professional settings where appearance matters. A well-protected laptop retains value and appeal, offering practical and financial benefits.

Maintaining Brand Integrity

Maintaining brand integrity in company-issued laptops is vital for businesses and professionals. Scratched and damaged laptops can reflect poorly on a company's image. Laptop skins can be customized with company logos, colors, and other branding elements while protecting the devices from scratches.

This dual purpose of protection and branding ensures that company laptops look professional and consistent with corporate image standards. It also allows businesses to promote their brand subtly and effectively through their devices. A branded skin not only protects but also enhances the professional appearance of the laptop.

Environmental Considerations

High-quality laptop covers skins are often made from environmentally friendly materials. Choosing eco-friendly skins ensures that you protect your laptop and minimize your environmental impact. Many manufacturers now offer skins made from recycled or sustainably sourced materials.

Environmentally friendly laptop skins also use non-toxic adhesives that are safe for users and the planet. Opting for eco-friendly skins contributes to sustainability efforts while keeping your device scratch-free. This choice aligns with growing consumer preferences for effective and environmentally responsible products.

Conclusion

Laptop skins offer a practical and stylish solution for protecting your device from scratches and other cosmetic damage. By understanding these skins' materials, application process, and benefits, you can choose the right one to suit your needs. From enhancing grip and handling to maintaining brand integrity and considering environmental impacts, laptop skins provide comprehensive protection while allowing personal expression. With suitable skin, your laptop can remain pristine, reflecting your style and commitment to quality.

#laptop skin cover #laptop skin covers #laptop covers skins

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storiesungaa · 4 years ago

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mobile rules & information

Since people don’t read rules all the way through i would like to preface this by saying: TRIGGERING MATERIAL WILL BE WRITTEN HERE. THIS INCLUDES BUT IS NOT LIMITED TO: INCEST, DUBCON, SUICIDAL IDEALATIONS, CHEATING, AND ANYTHING ELSE I WANT TO WRITE. BY CLICKING FOLLOW, YOU AGREE TO BLACKLIST THE TAGS PROVIDED IN THE FORM OF (trigger here) tw. DO NOT FOLLOW ME IF YOU THINK FICTION EQUALS REALITY OR IN ANYWAY HAS ANY REFLECTION ON A MUN’S MORAL STANDING.

HATE WILL NOT BE TOLERATED AND ANY ANON’S I GET ABOUT THIS THAT IS HATE WILL BE BLOCKED/NOT AT ALL ACKNOWLEDGED.

THANK YOU.

about: this is an indie mutuals only rp blog for a multimuse with various fandoms from tv shows, movies, anime, and video games. mun is 25+, genderfluid lesbian, goes by he/him pronouns (but i am genderfluid so i don’t mind she/her pronouns, most just call me he/him) online and name Jay. Previously known as Ares and Snow.

Callout culture: Do not involve me in this. Period. I want no part of it and will block as soon as I see it, tagged or not. I believe it does more harm than good and something like tha is extremely harmful..

content: there will be some pretty heavy material featured here. such as suicidal thoughts, mentions of rape, incest, and anything else I want to write. I will not tolerate hate being sent to me about this and I will block anyone who tries to police me. The only hard limit i have and absolutely refuse to write is pedophilia.

Don’t ever be afraid to ask me to tag something!

side note: if you believe fiction equals reality, please don’t follow me.

discord: is open to those who follow me. simply ask for it. i do not write on discord though. ooc contact is highly encouraged!

disclaimer: i'm in no way affiliated with any of the actors, fandoms, or characters on this blog. Banners, promos, and icons belong to me. Theme was made by inkfated. all screencaps used to turn into icons on this blog are not mine and belong to their rightful owners. Lara Croft screencaps come from soulcluster. tsunade icons belong to hellspath. rectangle tsunade icons belong to me. Some psds are not mine. Credit to iconholic for Red Velvet psd. Credit to plutocommissions for psd 183 - wild. some psds used are made by rivercraze

Drama: There won’t be any. I’m too old for tumblr’s drama, if you try to start something, make me choose, or drag me into drama - you will be blocked.

DNI’s will get you blocked. I don’t agree with making people choose between people when there are things like blacklist and tumblr’s own filtering system to help you avoid a person

Hate: Character hate, show hate, etc will get you unfollowed. I don’t have time for that negativity, pls tag it so I can filter it out, thank you.

IMs: pls refrain from sending me multiple messages all at once as I’m autistic and it sends me into sensory overloads!!

follow/unfollowing: i usually follow back pretty quick. if i don't follow within a week, i'm probably not going to follow back. 9/10 i do follow back. i will not follow if i see vaguing, callouts, or any sort of drama on blogs. i also will not follow any under the age of 18.

if i’ve been following you for a month and you don’t interact with me within that time limit, I’m unfollowing. I won’t soft block because I’m totally okay with people still following me but I don’t see the point in following if we’re not gonna write.

If I do not follow you back, do not message me asking to write or become mutuals - you will be blocked.

If I block you, do not come to me asking why. It will only get you blocked all over again. Do not ask why i’ve unfollowed you, either.

DO NOT FOLLOW ME IF YOU’RE A MINOR.

side note: if you’re the type to blindly believe a callout because that’s what everyone else is doing save yourself the trouble and don’t follow me.

Memes: Send as many as you want for as many muses as you want just be sure to specify muse or they’ll get deleted! Always feel free to turn meme answers into threads, too.

Do not use me as a meme resource. Send something in or reblog from the source, please.

note: if you send memes multiple times and there’s clearly a way to continue them, ESPECIALLY if we’ve never interacted before, and you keep sending memes but have NO INTENTIONS on replying to them, I will be less likely to respond to them. memes, in my eyes, are used as alternatives to starters. if you don’t respond to them after i’ve responded to quite a few, that’s me putting work into it for no reason really, so yeah.

My triggers: Sharks. That’s it. Just tag pictures of sharks for me please

nsfw: smut will be present here. i can not play the dominant party in smut, please don't ask me too. if you don't feel comfortable with it, we can fade to black, easy peasy. i won't make myself uncomfortable for some smut. All muses involved in smut or ships are 18+. If you think that aging them up is pedophila, do me a favor and get off my blog. Smut may happen with aged up characters but that does not mean it was done specifically for smut. Do not assume.

OCS: I love them. Send them my way, please!

OOC: I post ooc, sometimes quite a bit, sometimes rarely. I am human and I will act as such. I will not tag ooc posts mostly bc i’ll forget. Sorry if that bugs people but like i said, I’m human and I like to write things down and share things with the dash.

OOC note: please do not flirt with me or ask me to date you, thank you!

Shipping: all muses are LGBT+ in some shape or form so if you want to ship, just let me know. They’re pretty open to anyone, though gay and lesbian muses will stay gay and lesbian. I ship toxic pairings and incest so if that’s your cup of tea, just lemme know, and we can work something out if not? That’s alright too!!

As previously stated, all ships and smut scenes are involved with characters 18+. I will never under any circumstance write something with underage characters. Characters, however, can be aged up but are never simply just for the sake of smut. Smut may happen with aged up characters but that does not mean it was done specifically for smut. Do not assume.

wait time: sometimes i can take months, sometimes seconds, sometimes days. I’m not a fast rper, please respect this.

writing: i generally prefer writing multi-para or novella. one-liners or one-paragraphs usually end up getting dropped or made into much longer threads as i have absolutely no chill.

edit: from now on any drafts that are below three paras will be deleted, i don’t have muse for short things.

End note: Do me a favor and like this post if you’ve read my rules. Not needed but deeply appreciated. Also below you’ll find important links:

MUSES & NAVIGATION & MUSE INTEREST CHECKER & SHIP INTEREST CHECKER & COMMISSIONS INFORMATION & MOBILE MUSE LIST & THREAD TRACKER

#mobile rules

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purrincess-chat · 4 years ago

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Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH2

The feeeeeeels have only just begun! I think this Remix is going to pack a bigger emotional punch than the original, but the payoff will be so, so sweet. :)

As always, I am only sharing these here on this blog for you guys until like June when we reach chapter 21, so I need all of your love and support in the likes, comments, reblogs, tags, everywhere. Give me your feelings. I am fed by your keyboard smashes and emojis,

---

Previous Next AO3

Chapter 2: The Archer

Marinette froze on the sidewalk, scrambling to process what was happening. She closed her jaw and shifted her weight to mask her unease. Of course, she’d expected her friends to question her decision, but seeing Adrien outside the bakery door still came as a surprise. If there was anyone from her old school she was hoping to avoid, it was him. Alya she could handle, but she couldn’t bear to hear Adrien say how disappointed he was in her.

“I, uh…I have a lot of homework to catch up on and-” Her voice trailed off at his pained expression, and she tapped her feet hesitantly for a moment before sighing. She had never been good at resisting him. “Okay, you can come in.”

Adrien followed her up to the apartment silently, gaze fixed ahead. Marinette could only imagine what he was thinking. How could she do this? Why didn’t she tell anyone? Marinette avoided eye contact with him for fear of what she might see.

“Can I make you some tea?” She offered, setting her bag on the stairs.

“Sure.”

Perfect. Tea was a good excuse not to look at him, and she kept her back to him while she worked, pretending that she didn’t know where things were to stall for time. She was hyper-aware of his eyes on her, following her every move. Watching. Waiting. She couldn’t keep this up forever, so she might as well get it over with.

“So, what’s up?” she asked while she filled the kettle.

“Marinette.”

“Do you like sugar in your tea?”

“Marinette.”

“I think we have some honey around here somewhere…”

“Marinette.”

“Preference on cup color?”

“Marinette.”

She pressed her lips into a line, tapping her nail on the counter before turning around to face him. “I know what you’re going to say,” she said. “‘Why did you leave? How could you do this? I thought we were friends. Why didn’t you tell us?’ Look, I know, okay?”

Adrien waited for her to finish, expression grave, though he didn’t look disappointed or angry. No, there was something else in his expression, those green eyes clouded and hazy. Sad, she realized. Adrien’s eyes were full of sadness and worry, and honestly, she would have preferred disappointment. If he was disappointed, she could defend her decision, but sad only made her guilt worse. She would rather Adrien forget her entirely than look at her with those big sad eyes.

Marinette flinched when he took a step toward her, hands shaking at her sides until Adrien reached out to place his hands on her shoulders.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“Aren’t you mad at me?” Tears bubbled in the corners of her eyes. “Don’t you want to know why I left without saying goodbye?”

“Because you’re hurting.” He trailed his thumb across her cheek to catch a tear. “No one believed you about Lila, and you felt like your friends were shunning you, so you left because you were hurt. How could I be mad at you?”

“I’m not just hurt…” Marinette shook her head. “I’m angry and heartbroken and frustrated and-” Her vision blurred, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. Adrien pulled her against his chest. Burying her face in his shoulder, she let all of her pain overflow.

A week ago, she would have killed for him to hold her like this, but the numbness weighing down her heart left no room for happiness. All of the color had been drained from her life from the friends she left behind right down to the clothes on her back. Everything was gray and dark. Even Adrien couldn’t bring light back to her world now.

“I’m sorry, Marinette,” he whispered. “This is all my fault.”

“No, it’s not!” She shook her head, sniffling noisily.

Adrien brushed another tear from her cheek. “I told you not to confront Lila, but I didn’t know you felt that strongly. If I hadn’t stopped you, then you wouldn’t have left,” he said. “I just didn’t want to cause conflict, and I hoped that Lila could be reasoned with if we could just get through to her, but…”

“There’s something else I should tell you,” Marinette said. “I wasn’t going to tell anyone because I didn’t think they’d believe me, but you already know the truth, so…”

The screech of the kettle interrupted before she could speak. She turned to tend to it, rubbing at her nose. Her hands shook as she poured, so Adrien placed his hands over hers to help her hold it steady. She’d almost forgotten how kind he was. At least this part of her old life wasn’t entirely lost. This precious, beautiful part.

“Talk to me,” Adrien said once they sat on the couch, and Marinette took a deep breath.

“I don’t think that there is a way to get through to Lila,” she said, voice hoarse as she swirled her index finger around the rim of her cup. “The day she came back to school, she came up to me in the bathroom and tried to manipulate me just like everyone else, and when I called her out on it, she turned on me in an instant. She told me that I was either with her or against her, and that if I didn’t play along, then she was going to turn everyone against me.”

“She said that?” Adrien gasped, and Marinette nodded, biting her lip.

“That’s not all,” she continued. “After she left, I was crying in the stall, and…an akuma came—the one that ended up turning her into Chameleon. It was meant for me.”

“Marinette…” He shifted closer to wrap an arm around her. “I had no idea.”

“I fought it off.” She shrugged, sipping her tea. “I’ve always been good at finding the silver lining, but with Lila…”

“Well, that would explain a lot about today then,” Adrien sighed. “She told everyone in class that you didn’t say goodbye because you don’t care about us and that you just wanted attention.”

“And let me guess, everyone in the class believed her?” Marinette grunted, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t think people know what to believe, but it made me sick to hear her say those things about you because I know they’re not true, and I think deep down everyone else does too.” He shifted his gaze down to his lap. “I should have said something, but…I guess I’m just a coward. You must think I’m a pretty bad friend.”

“I don’t think that!” she insisted. “You came over because you knew I was upset which is more than I can say about anyone else.”

“What do you think we should do?” he asked. “I still don’t think outright exposing her is the way to go.”

“No, she’s too crafty. She’ll just lie her way out of it.” Marinette affirmed with a disgusted scowl. “Honestly, I don’t think there is anything we can do to her without backlash. It’s our word against hers.”

“Yeah…” Adrien shifted with a guilty grimace. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“How did you figure out that Lila was lying?” He glanced up to meet her gaze.

Marinette pursed her lips, debating how much truth to reveal to him. She supposed that lying wouldn’t be ideal in this situation, but she couldn’t exactly tell him everything. Sighing, she set her teacup down on the coffee table and turned to face him head-on.

“You’re probably not gonna like it,” she said, “but I’ll tell you.” She paused for a moment to draw in a breath before continuing. “The first day that Lila came to school, everyone was so impressed with everything she was saying, but the more stories I heard, the more suspicious I got. Everything seemed too amazing, then I saw her talking to you, and… I got concerned, so I followed you two—mostly Lila! I watched her buy that necklace at the store dump your father’s book in the trash, and I heard everything when Ladybug showed up, and so yeah.”

“You really followed us?” He quirked a brow. “So, you know how I know then.”

“Yeah…” She clasped her hands together in her lap and tapped her index fingers together. “I didn’t trust her, and I was worried about you.”

A smile curled on his lips, and he tilted her chin to look at him. “You’re always looking out for your friends,” he said. “I’m really sorry that everyone else sided against you. For what it’s worth, I prefer your company to Lila’s any day.”

She smiled at that. “Thank you, Adrien.”

“I wish you hadn’t left, but I understand why you did,” he said, “I’d never ask you to come back somewhere where you felt victimized, but I am going to miss seeing you every day.”

“You can come by any time you like.” Marinette offered. “You’re my friend, Adrien, and just because I changed schools doesn’t mean that has to stop.”

“You’re right.” He took her hands and gave them a squeeze. “Promise me you’ll keep in touch?”

“Oh, I will,” she said. “One of my new friends is a big fan of yours.”

“I’d love to meet them, and if ever you need me, I’ll always be here for you,” he assured her.

Marinette relaxed at the sentiment before letting out a deep breath.

“I guess we just have to hope that Lila lies herself into a corner,” she said.

“She will, eventually. Then everyone will see her for who she truly is,” Adrien said. “Liars only hurt themselves in the end.”

“Yeah…” Marinette pursed her lips, then taking a chance said, “Well, if you’re free for a while… we could do our homework together. It’ll take our minds off of everything.”

“That sounds nice, and you can tell me about your new school.” He perked up.

The tension in the room faded, but before they could move, Marinette’s dad burst through the front door. “I brought up some fresh baked cookies for you two.” He announced, setting the plate on the coffee table.

“Thanks, Papa.” Marinette stretched up to kiss his cheek. “Adrien and I are gonna do our homework.”

“I won’t get in your way then,” her dad said. He brushed her cheek with his finger. “I can’t wait to hear all about your first day tonight. Your mother and I will be down in the bakery if you two need anything.”

“Thanks, Mr. Dupain,” Adrien said politely. When her dad retreated back to the bakery, he added, “Your parents are nice. I can see where you get it from,” he said sincerely. “You’re always doing your best to help others without ever asking for anything in return. I’ve always really admired that about you, Marinette. The world could use more people like you.”

Marinette covered her face with her hands, cheeks hot with embarrassment. She wasn’t prepared for such compliments today, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t cheer her up.

He chuckled, pulling her hands away from her face. “I’m happy we’re friends, Marinette, and if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

The golden glow of the setting sun through the window illuminated his face, and for one fleeting moment, all of the colors she once loved flashed in his eyes. For the first time since making her decision, Marinette felt like everything would be okay.

She gave his hands a squeeze and offered him a shy smile. “Thank you, Adrien. For everything.”

♪♫♪ Haunted ♪♫♪

Alya stuffed her books into her bag, lacking her usual enthusiasm. Nothing in her world seemed right that day. Every time she glanced over at Marinette’s empty seat, her chest tightened. Now as she stood in front of her locker, staring at old pictures hanging inside, Lila’s words echoed in her mind.

“Maybe she wasn’t really your friend after all.”

That couldn’t be true. Marinette was her best friend. They told each other everything.

“If she really cared about you, she would have told you she was leaving.”

There had to be an explanation, but Alya couldn’t think of one.

“Maybe you don’t know her as well as you thought you did.”

True, Marinette was always running late and coming up with excuses, but Alya always thought she was just scatter-brained. Maybe Lila was right, and Marinette was hiding something from all of them. Maybe all she wanted was attention. The only people Marinette ever clashed with were Chloe and Lila—two people who got tons of attention from everyone. Not to mention she was always strangely possessive of Adrien…

Alya shook her head to clear it, but her doubts remained, questioning everything about her friendship with Marinette. What was real, and what wasn’t? Everything she thought she knew had been turned on its head so quickly that she didn’t have time to get her bearings. Marinette was gone, and from the looks of it, she wasn’t coming back to offer any explanations.

The photos of the two of them smiled back at Alya, and the pressure in her chest returned as angry tears bubbled in her eyes. How could she leave without saying goodbye? Didn’t their friendship mean anything to her?

With a growl, Alya reached inside and ripped the photos out, tearing them to shreds as she sank to her knees. She squeezed her eyes shut, clutching the last picture as tears rolled down her cheeks. Lost in her anguish, she didn’t notice the black butterfly hovering over her until it touched the edge of the photo, and a familiar voice sounded in her head.

“Hello, again.”

#mdcspr #my writing #marinette dupain cheng's spite playlist remix #sorry its late busy day

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milk-carton-whump · 4 years ago

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I woke up thinking about Ritz, awesome story btw it's so good to read! I had an idea that I just had to share even if you don't want to write it. But I thought about if Ritz got attacked by bandits or something and he's hurt but the only place he can go to is Witt, so he makes it over to him asking for help with the wound and/or protection/being hidden. Witt probably wouldn't be too happy about people damaging what's his right?.. 👀

All hurt, little to no comfort?? Perfect. This is part 1, there will be a second part later where we see what happens to Ritz after all this.

Tagging: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @sideblogformindtrash @tears-and-lilies @unicornscotty @whumpasaurus101 @getyourwhumphere @skunkandgrenade @twistedcaretaker @lektric-whump @abitefullofeverything @sunnysunfire @whatwasmyprevioususername

CW: ambushed, mugged, stabbed, hiding injuries, blood, stab wound, rejecting medical attention, lying, hurt no comfort, whumper turned caretaker, possessive behavior, whumpee seeking out help from whumper, cowboy shenanigans, possessive touch

Between a Rock & a Hard Place

The pain in his leg and side made him wince with every step his horse took. A random group of bandits had ambushed him, they took most of his valuable stuff but surprisingly left his horse. They had been more interested in the food and water he had been carrying with him.

That of course hadn't stopped one of them stabbing him in the leg and the side just to get away from his attack. The tussle had left him bruised and bleeding which wasn't ideal. He weakly packed up what he could and struggled to pull himself up into the saddle. It took several tries before he dragged himself into the seat. The whole ordeal had made the deep wound in his side more angry causing it to bleed more.

Luckily he was wearing dark blue today so it hid the blood that was soaking into it from the open wounds. He felt dizzy and could barely focus on the landscape and instead tried to keep his gaze down at Echo.

Before he knew it the pair were entering a familiar ranch. Ritz hadn't paid any attention and at this point realized he hadn't been steering, but instead had let Echo find her way to a safe place. Unfortunately for him that meant Witt's cattle ranch.

He forced himself to sit up straighter which caused him to wince and hiss as he moved his hurting body.

Echo stopped at the front porch of the rancher's home and put her head down. Normally it would mean she was getting ready to roll in the dirt to take a cozy dust bath, but this felt different. She dropped down and laid on her knees so that Ritz could easily just step off of her back instead of struggling more. Once he was off, she stood back up and shook, sending dust flying into the air.

Ritz patted her neck and held his waist as he climbed the steps, it was hard to get his wounded leg to cooperate. He forced a breath through gritted teeth, he didn't want to do this, he would be fine. No, he needed help, he was in pain and Witt could help him. He knocked on the solid wood door.

He wanted to turn around and just leave but the door opened and there stood Witt, his warm smile fading into one of confusion.

"Ritz, sunshine? What brings you here?" The rancher asked in his normal warm tone.

"Just uh… droppin' by ta say howdy and maybe have some coffee if that's okay?" Ritz said trying to cover the fact that when was in pain, he didn't want Witt to know he was hiding several bad wounds.

Witt placed his hand under the bandit's chin and turned his head side to side. He narrowed his eyes and his confused look turned to a more possessive annoyance as he scanned his eyes over Ritz's face.

"Sunshine, darling. You would tell me the truth, correct?" The rancher's friendly tone was more cold now.

Ritz glanced away and bit his lip, he was clearly nervous.

"Course I would, Witt." He responded, what little confidence he had was gone.

"Then why are you lying to me, Richard? These bruises on your face aren't from me. If you tell me what's wrong, I'll go easy on you." Witt's tone was harsh and flat.

The rancher wrapped his hand around the cowboy's waist and pulled him close, he had unknowingly grabbed the stab wound which made Ritz hiss in pain. It startled the man enough that he pulled his hand back to find it covered in blood.

Ritz couldn't move fast enough to react as Witt pulled the bandit's shirt open, revealing a rather large and blood soaked wound in the boy's waist. The rancher's stomach dropped as he took in the wound, he would put off punishing Ritz until later. Now he had to fix whatever had happened to his cowboy.

"So… when were you going to tell me about this?!" Witt sounded concerned and hurt. "You know what? Doesn't matter right now, is… is there anything else I should know about?"

Ritz bit his lip harder and looked away, scared and hurting. He finally managed to speak.

"There's another one in my leg too… got stabbed by thieves." Ritz admitted softly.

"We'll talk about this later." Witt scolded the bandit sharply and sent one of his ranch hands to retrieve the town doctor.

#ambushed #hiding injuries #stabbed #blood tw #hurt no comfort #rejecting medical attention #mugged #stab wound #lying #whumper turned caretaker #possessive whumper #possessive behavior #whumpee seeking help from whumper #ritz #echo #witt #cowboy shenanigans #possessive touch

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gldie · 3 years ago

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✰ ⊰ GOLDIE: ❛ 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐏.

A year after her departure from KPWR-FM, 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄 has scored a career as being a television host for BET. In this interview, 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃 took the time to drive right on down to Westchester to ask her all the questions that people want to know about her rise to fame and how she’s juggling it along with motherhood and her love-life.

━━ ❛ 𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃. ╱

❛ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃: Goldie mfn’ Forde! How are you doin’ on this beautiful afternoon? Your house looks great, by the way. I love it! Thank you so much for havin’ me.

𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄: Holli Hoooood! I’m doin’ great, actually. Just tryna’ get used to being on the opposite end of an interview. But, no. Thank you for takin’ the interest in interviewing lil’ ol’ me. ❜

❛ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃: Well, we gotta interview the hottest women in the game right now and your talk show THE GOLDEN HOUR has been killing it as of lately. You should be proud! You workin’ your ass off and still make time to be a mother. I must say your little boy is the cutest. [ The woman gestures at the little boy who is sleeping on her mother’s lap. ]

𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄: Aw, gosh. [ She blushes with a wide smile on her face and she glances down at him, running her hand along the baby’s back. ] I don’t know what else to say but thank you. All these compliments makin’ me blush! [ She laughs softly before looking back at the interviewer. ] Workin’ my ass off is in my blood, though. I gotta from my momma. She don’t play that lazy sh*t. Doesn’t he look just like his momma, though? I need that on the record just in case someone tries to say that he looks like his daddy. ❜

❛ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃: He sure does, y’all look like twins. Woulda’ swore that you had that baby on your own, honestly. [ The interviewer chuckles before placing her hand on the notepad she held. ] But how are you liking motherhood? Is it a hard transition?

𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄: [ The smile on her face doesn’t fade doesn’t fade until she hears the last question that she asks. Sighing softly, she looks up at the sky as she tries to find the words to answer. ] In the beginning it was actually. I struggled a lot trying to get use to being a mother and not letting it consume who I am. Like of course, I’m a mother before everything, but I’m also a sister, friend, business woman, you know stuff outside of that. [ Looking back at the interviewer, she continues with a soft smile on her face. ] I also kinda’ struggled to connect with my child. I felt like I wasn’t going to be the best mother to him, I felt lonely, the whole nine. But now, we’re good. He’s my whole heart. Who I do it for, my everything. ❜

❛ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃: That’s beautiful, Goldie. I know a lot of women struggle with Post-partum depression after having their first child. I know it must be hard trying to balance your career-life and being a mother but you make it look easy.

𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄: Whew, girl when I tell you it takes a village and that’s the only reason it looks so damn easy. [ A laugh emits from her lips before she feels her child shift in her lap. Mouthing the words oops, she picks him up in her arms before looking over her shoulder for her mother. ] Mommmyyyy, can you get your grand-baby? [ She speaks softly so that she won’t disturb him before pecking his cheek repeatedly. Once her mother walks over and takes him, she turns around to finish the question. ] Without that woman, wouldn’t be no Goldie on television. My mother and father, his father along with his side family help me out so much. He’s on set with me sometimes, but most of the time I want him to be somewhere quiet and not too rowdy. ❜

❛ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃: Wow! You seem to have the ideal support group. Why happened to you and ZION’s father?

𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄: [ A dry chuckle left the woman’s lips as she stared at the interviewer’s visage, swallowing the lump in her throat before she shifted in her seat some. ] Uh, lack of communication and failure to reason with one another. Yup. [ She finished with a soft head nod. ] But co-parenting is great. You know, our focus is completely on our son and what’s best for him. Next question, please. ❜

━━ ❛ 𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒. ╱

❛ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃: Alright, Goldie. What achievements from last year are you most proud of?

𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄: My greatest achievement is Zion Israel Powers. I mean, with all the struggles that I experienced with pregnancy, I couldn’t be more grateful that God granted me the opportunity to be his mommy. [ She couldn’t help but to beam when she spoke about her child. ] The second great achievement of last year was putting myself first and leaving a job that didn’t serve my purpose. I will always be grateful to KPWR, but leaving a job that stifled my creativity was the best decision that I ever made. ❜

❛ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃: I know that’s right, Goldie! We leaving everything that doesn’t serve us in 2020, okay!? [ She laughed with a point before moving on to the next question. ] And what about the achievements of this year?

𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄: And neva’ eva wrong. [ She laughed back while pointing back at the woman with her index finger. ] Uh.. I’m proud of the fact that I overcame a dark time in my life and I found a new part of myself that I never really got the chance to know. I’m happy with... uh... I’m happy with my life. Yeah. I’m making the kind of money that I want. I achieved two of my biggest dreams, I’m more secure in my body and I’m happy. Yeah. ❜

❛ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃: We love seeing black women happy, sis. I know a lot of people have been trying to steal your shine and happiness in the blogs. Do you have anything to say to the former talk show host that you replaced? She’s been in the media outlets throwing shade and subliminals a lot.

𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄: [ A short chuckle leaves the woman’s lips before she scratches her nose with her acrylic nail, pursing her lips up slightly. ] Mm... Not really, if it’s not direct, it doesn’t get acknowledged by me. I truly wish her the best in her future endeavors, though. I know it’s hard seeing someone else win while you struggle. I been there myself, but hating on the next woman isn’t going to change anything so.. ❜

❛ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃: Well said. Very professional! I’m over here tryna’ be miss messy boots and you curvin’ it. You sure you haven’t had any media training? [ She snickers before moving onto the last question of this segment. ] Okay, lastly, what goals do you have for next year?

𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄: None whatsoever. I’m just good like that. [ The woman speaks with a small smile before tilting her head to the side while she listens to the question asked. ] Goals for next year? To keep growing my brand, girl. Hopefully create my own app, merch, go on a talk show tour, maybe write a book? Who knows! I’m most definitely putting my momma and daddy in a new house, though. I know that. [ She said with a nod before clasping her hands together and shrugging. ] I’m letting life take me on this journey and I’m just ridin’ the wave. I pray it takes me in the right direction. ❜

━━ ❛ 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄. ╱

❛ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃: Now this house, what made you choose a house like this? Especially in a neighborhood that you’re not used to.

𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄: It was definitely a change from my apartment in Crenshaw. I’m still in Inglewood but I’m not on the same block that I’m used to be on. I’m not doing hair out of my apartment to make some extra money. You know, I’m in the rich neighborhood and sometimes, you know I feel left out. But when I saw this house, I knew it was the one for me despite the neighborhood change. I needed a space that could accommodate me and all my needs along with my family. ❜

❛ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃: Can we get a tour? I mean, a house this beautiful needs to be viewed by the people and I’m sure your fans would like to see how you livin’. Don’t you think?

𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄: This isn’t my dream house, but it’s definitely an impressive STARTER HOME, ya’ know? It’s very spacious for family events and my family like to link all the damn time, so. I like it a lot. It’ll hold me over until further notice. I got everything baby proofed because I just know this lil’ boy gon’ be something else when he starts getting more a handle on this crawling thing. ❜

❛ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃: The entire house is flawless, but let’s get into this STACKED WARDROBE. You take this fashion sh*t serious, don’t ya’? Let me borrow some of these clothes. Or at least show me how you do it, chile.

𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄: I really don’t know what I’m doing with this fashion shit, I just know what looks good on me. Which is damn near everything. [ The woman speaks cockily, letting a laugh follow soon after before she looked over her closet. ] But I think I take a lot of my looks from old models and vixens of the 90s and 00s. Lately, I’ve been getting a lot of brands and clothing lines reaching out trying to get me to wear something from their lines. So, I’m excited about that. [ She says in a sing-song tone before doing a little dance. ] If you ever want me to give you some pointers, be sure to watch my show for my fashion tips segment. The girls really like that. ❜

❛ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃: I’ll be sure to tune in for that, girl! Thank you so much for this wonderful interview. You’ve been a pleasure to interview, honestly. [ The interview reaches over to shake her hand with a grin on her face. ] I told you it wasn’t going to be that bad. You guys be sure to tune in THE GOLDEN HOUR feature the gorgeous GOLDIE on BET everyday @ 5/6 ET.

𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄: Thank you so much for having me! You were great, made me feel so comfortable and everything. [ She compliments the interviewer while she shakes the woman’s hand then she looks directly into the camera lens. ] Listen to the woman, y’all. She know what she’s talkin’ ‘bout. Kisses, see y’all lata’! ❜

#✰ ━━ ㅤ ♯𝙵𝙸𝙻𝙴𝙳 𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁: ⌯ task. ❜#✰ ━━ ㅤ ♯𝙵𝙸𝙻𝙴𝙳 𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁: ⌯ develop. ❜#tw ━ long post.#queued up.

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diamondcitydarlin · 4 years ago

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I am just...honestly fascinated by this sudden ‘change of heart’ with Guillermo tho in regards to being a familiar and becoming a vampire, there’s a lot going on there and a lot to unpack, and I’m hoping somewhere in the depths of what is about to be a long, directionless rant I’ll find the clarity I haven’t seemed to quite grasp yet.

ALSO I’M SORRY THIS IS A LOOONG ASS POST BUT I DIDN’T WANT TO PUT IT UNDER A READ MORE AND SUBJECT INNOCENTS TO MY BLOG LOL, BUT I’VE TAGGED ACCORDINGLY

So, I already made a post about ‘Collaboration’ and some of the interesting subtext we get within that episode. Mainly, that this episode is an interesting one for Guillermo because he finally gets what appears to be and should be (at least at first) the opportunity he’s always been waiting for. To this point, across seasons, Guillermo has driven home that his one and only aspiration in life, the reason he tolerates an endless, shitty position, is because he hopes to become a vampire. He’s wanted it since he was a kid. IF HE CAN’T BECOME A VAMPIRE, WHAT HAS THIS ALL BEEN ABOUT??

If it was as simple as just wanting to become a vampire by any means necessary, leaving Nandor for this golden opportunity should have been as easy as taking off an ill-fitting pair of shoes...but it wasn’t that, was it? When Nandor pretended to shuck him off as if it didn’t matter, Guillermo got angry and sad in equal measure and only really brightened again when Nandor came back and promised to do better by him. Not necessarily set down a concrete timeline for the ‘becoming a vampire’ thing though, but Guillermo didn’t seem to care about that all that much anyway. Interesting.

Now we’re able to see a version of things in which Guillermo is being treated better as a familiar, but rather than this development improving his mood he seems all the more aware of the fact now that...maybe he doesn’t even want to be a vampire anymore. Maybe he’s wasting his time here. Maybe he needs to swim towards open waters, so to speak.

Very similar to Nandor, Guillermo, I think, is not really aware or fully accepting of the inner workings of his own mind. He strikes me as a character that does a lot in the way of burying the truths of himself so far down, he even convinces himself that part of who he is doesn’t really exist- even when it does, and drives a lot of his actions. The show plays to this by only ‘showing’ us concretely how much Guillermo wants us to know, with only small hints and nods to other things going on. That fits and rings true to the norm for a mockumentary style of filming/writing, in that the audience has to rely on a lot of subtle cues from the subjects to figure out what’s ‘really going on’ with a character or plot line; the ‘camera’ in a mockumentary style piece is as much of a visceral, present character as anyone else in the cast and is treated accordingly (but then, like 99.99999% of human beings have seen the entirety of The Office and Parks and Rec, so yall know this already)

I think part of the way to figuring this all out is to ask why Guillermo wanted to be a vampire in the first place. His answer to this would probably be something along the lines of ‘because they’re cool’ which, you know, valid. That would be a fitting and satisfying answer if, say, I had given it because there was a time when I was about 4-6 years old that I, too, decided I would grow up to be a vampire. Because it was ‘cool’ and aspiring to anything else seemed boring. Again, valid. For someone who has dedicated pretty much ALL of his adult life to apprenticing into vampirism based on a childhood dream that never died? THAT begs a bit more of an in depth reason, I think, to which for now we can only guess.

I’ll try to make an educated one based on what I believe is going on here, that Guillermo himself is either not aware of or not ready to share with the cameras: I believe his drive to want to become a vampire, given it was based in childhood flights of fancy (and probably some Guillermo-self insert/Armand fanfics, let’s be hONEST) was rooted in a need to feel respected and powerful, at the heart of things. When we first meet Guillermo, and for much of season 1, we see that he’s quiet, subservient, meek, and we learn briefly about how he was bullied in school. I think Guillermo was raised to be this way and use silence/subservience as his only defense mechanism, which may also go a long way to explaining why he’s so reserved. For 10 years, I think it was enough for him to tell himself that everything would be better for him once he became a vampire, he’d have all the things he never had as a human. Respect. Appreciation. Power. Control over his own life.

That said, things have changed quite a bit for Guillermo since season one. While learning that he had Van Helsing blood came as an unpleasant shock, embracing and exploring that side of himself proved that he’s actually kind of a bad ass even without being a vampire. He only ever wielded this power to protect Nandor and others so far, but it is a power nonetheless, this agility and strength that is too great for even VAMPIRES to successfully fight back against. He’s also a smart cookie that knows how to manipulate a situation, something that he’s been using a lot this season too. So, power, then. He has it already. Respect he received from his vampire-hunting group.

But that still leaves appreciation and, dare I say it, maybe even affection/love. I think there’s a part of Guillermo that wants to feel like he’s accepted and cared for, but even when it’s offered (by groups like his vampire hunting clan, or Celeste’s vampire community lol) he seems to shy away from it going too far, like it’s just too much or ill-fitting coming from people he barely knows. Given that he’s a private, introvert type this makes sense.

One thing has remained consistent for Guillermo though, across both seasons and episodes, and that’s his seemingly unwavering concern and affection for Nandor. Even in this last ep when he’s unashamedly shucking off duties that don’t fit his job description and maintaining those professional boundaries like a BOSS, he still snaps to and gets to work the moment Nandor is kidnapped. Laszlo’s gone? Meh, who cares, not his jurisdiction. Nandor’s gone!?? Fuck it, he’s getting the keys. A ‘vampire’ offers him the opportunity of a lifetime to become a vampire quickly and live within an accepting community of likeminded people and Nandor told him ‘go for it’? He’s upset that Nandor didn’t fight harder to keep him.

So now he’s back and Nandor’s making a consistent effort not to abuse Guillermo’s position. This seemed the ideal resolution at the end of ‘Collaboration’, but after a couple of weeks it becomes clear that it wasn’t. For some reason. Guillermo’s no longer satisfied and thinks maybe it’s time to do more with his life.

I’ll try to sum up the points I’ve made so far into a concise version of where I think Guillermo’s at right now, at least subconsciously; mostly all the things he hoped that turning into a vampire would grant him, have already been granted. He’s learned that he’s strong, smart, capable as is, more than he or anyone else had ever given him credit for. I think it makes sense that his burning need to become a vampire has begun to ebb into a quarter-life crisis of questioning who he really is and what he really wants, because the dream he nursed for so long has turned out to be pretty shallow and maybe not even necessary. He realizes there’s more he could be doing than working tirelessly to an end goal that no longer seems so sweet.

But that leaves the ‘affection’ and ‘acceptance’ elements dangling in space, held up by his own affection for Nandor that has yet to be really defined. It’s pretty clear that Guillermo is nursing it hard, but what is the nature of it? Even as his sense of loyal devotion to a cause has started to fade, even as his view of Nandor as this unflappable role model has begun to disappear too bc he’s starting to see Nandor for who he really is (a himbo idiot that he can outwit, outmatch without even trying hard) this raw affection still remains. It’s still important that Nandor fights for him. It’s still important that Nandor is safe and protected.

And, as with the rest of these things I mentioned, I don’t think Guillermo is even really aware of how much he cares about Nandor, how much it drives his actions and thinking, how important that relationship is to him. It’s easier to just sort of...ignore that and pretend it isn’t a factor, that’s Guillermo’s modus operandi when it comes to complicated feelings.

I think back to that line from season 1, wherein Guillermo’s kind of musing wistfully about how different his life might have been if he’d stayed at Panera Bread/in a stable job with pay and benefits, but then handwaves that all away with ‘The heart wants what it wants’. By this point in the show he was already kind of drifting away from the goal of becoming a vampire (whether he realized it or not).

The heart wants what it wants indeed, Guillermo, but maybe it’s not really ‘becoming a vampire’. Maybe it’s something else entirely that keeps you tied to this house, this thankless ‘job’.

At this point, I really cannot say for 100% certain what I think will happen next with Guillermo. This show has proven solid at pulling out unexpected plot twists I wouldn’t have seen coming, but then, I also have been pretty good at predicting where they’re gonna go with things. Like 7/10 lmao. My two theories right now are:

He’ll become a vampire in the series finale- unwillingly, maybe by accident. This one I think is plausible because it’s a bit of a kick in the pants. It’s the outcome he’s wanted for SO LONG but has just realized maybe it’s not all he can do or wants to do. I could see a situation where, idk, maybe Guillermo expresses to Nandor his thoughts lately about moving on from this and, in an act of stupid desperation, Nandor thinks maybe if he changes him that’ll keep him in his life, so he does it while Guillermo’s asleep and then surprises him when he wakes up...only to find out maybe that wasn’t actually what he wanted anymore, but UH OH what’s done is done. This could provide a lot of tension in the next season, I think. But as it’s a bit of a ‘shocking’ twist type route to go, I can’t be certain this is what they’ll do. Kind of a toss up.

Guillermo leaves to pursue something else, which the camera crew will follow and document. This is the ‘sensible’/’safe’ route that most scripted shows would take, I think, in this situation...but again, I’m not certain about this one either because Shadows is known for throwing us for a loop and this seems a liiiittle predictable. It’s also very similar to what JUST happened in episode 8 and, were I writing the show, I’d worry it would come across as redundant. Like, maybe we already did this angle and should explore other options to keep the audience on their toes. Also, as much as they love putting Harvey with new casts of characters for episodic stories, I’m not sure they’d transplant him from the main cast for an extended period of time because he’s part of what makes that dynamic run so well. But then, the synopsis of the finale does say that vampires have to ‘survive without Guillermo’ while preparing for an event, so this may happen in some small, episodic measure again.

Anyway, to wrap this up into a conclusion, I don’t think I’m wrong in predicting that Nandor/Guillermo’s relationship has been set up in such a way as to keep us guessing, sort of a Sam/Diane, will-they-won’t-they type thing that will remain a constant throughout whatever happens next, but will require both characters growing independent of each other in their own respective subplots. At this point, it has always remained consistent that Nandor and Guillermo prioritize each other even when it doesn’t make sense, but I don’t think either of them are ready to realize, accept, and sort through the layers of what they feel for each other. The master/servant dynamic makes that difficult, I’d imagine, so I think inevitably we’ll see the show start to pull them away from that. All I’m saying is, if whatever is going on between them wasn’t VERY complicated it would’ve been resolved as whatever it is a long time ago. Nah, there’s some deep, repressed shit they’re ignoring collectively for whatever reason, and usually that points to something that will, at some point, become romantic. Either way, to understand Guillermo is to keep a close eye on how his dynamic with Nandor grows and changes and I’m, as ever, VERY eager to see how it does.

#guillermo de la cruz #nandor x guillermo #guillermo x nandor #wwdits #what we do in the shadows tv show #long post #meta

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innately-pretentious · 4 years ago

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Let’s go out. (Klaus Hargreeves x Reader)

Request: Heyaa hope ur ok! You write Klaus so well and was wondering if I could request one where the reader and him get ready for a night out? I love ur blog! 💛

A/N: Ahh thank you so much! This is lowkey not proof read so forgive any mistakes, hope this is alright for you! ❤️✨

It was supposed to be a quiet night in, spending some much needed alone time together. Work had been hectic, and although you loved it, you unfortunately had to work late for the majority of nights this week, much to Klaus’ dismay.

Shrugging off your coat and kicking off your shoes, throwing your keys onto the table next to the door, you let out a sigh as you welcomed the familiar view of you apartment. The two of you had only been living together for a brief time, but despite only having this place for two months, you both have made it feel like a home. The first week had mainly consisted of running around various second-hand shops looking for mismatched furniture to buy. Being kicked out of IKEA for playing hide and seek or jumping across the sofas, he insisted that this was a vital test for such a large investment. Despite all this he definitely had an eye for design, you trusted him with the interior decor. You swear you even caught him making a Pinterest board once.

You slowly make your way into the apartment, hearing the faint sound of music coming from the kitchen. Cracking open the door slightly, you can’t help but smile at what you see. He is sloppily dressed, a pair of skinny jeans with no shoes, hair slightly scruffy, yesterdays eyeliner still slightly smeared across his lids, and your colourful robe loosely draped over his shoulders, hardly doing anything to hide the fact he has no shirt on. He glides around the kitchen with drink in one hand and a large spoon in the other, eyes shut as he dances to the music. Even when he is dancing alone, he always manages to seem elegant. Swaying and spinning around the kitchen, your robe flowing behind him as he continues working on dinner.

It’s at this point you decide to make yourself known, pushing the door open a little further and entering the room.

“Y/N! Didn’t hear you come in!” He said, putting his drink and utensils down to engulf you in a hug.

“I didn’t want to disturb your cooking, I missed you,” you replied, leaning up to press a soft kiss onto his lips.

“Please, if anything distract me more, you’ve been working late all week. I’m starting to feel like a housewife waiting for her husband to return,” he said sarcastically.

“You’re the best trophy wife I could ever ask for,” you joked.

He chuckled and pulled you closer to him, encouraging you to join with his dancing. Taking both your arms and swaying you back and forth, laughing and holding his arm above you for you to spin under. You try to do the same for him, but his tall stature has him bending slightly backwards to make it under the arch your arm has created. You two slowed down as the music faded, unlinking from each other and going to grab some food. Klaus was by no means a professional chef, but he was competent enough to make a good pasta. You both head out to the balcony to watch the sunset as you eat.

“Let’s go out” He said, finishing his dinner and taking a drag from his cigarette, gazing at you hopefully.

“I don’t know Klaus, it’s getting late” You replied.

“Come on Y/N, you’ve been slaving away all week and I have been the perfect little domestic goddess and cooked you a delicious meal. The weekend has just begun and we have nowhere to be tomorrow!” He argued, you were about to say no, but you saw the excitement in his eyes. He loved nothing more than seeing where the night took you both, getting lost on stupid adventures was a well rehearsed hobby of his.

“Fine! But only because you asked so nicely.” You said.

And just like that he was beaming, he smiled a genuine smile, putting out his cig and yanking you towards your bedroom. He gently pushed you into the chair next to the dressing table, pulling out boxes full of makeup and accessories. You could tell he was itching to get his hands on you, probably coming up with some baroque-esque look for the two of you. You were always slightly envious of his clothing and makeup collection.

“I’m thinking…” He begins, putting his thumb and index fingers in the shape of a rectangle, as if he is trying to see what vision he has for you, “I’m thinking vintage with an edge, but make it fashion?” He asks, cocking his head to the side, asking subtly for your approval.

“Surprise me,” You say with a smile, “I am your canvas.”

He gleams once more and turns to your shared wardrobe. You both had such a habit of borrowing each others clothes, you thought it would be more practical to just share one. Klaus has never been one to shy away from stereotypically ‘feminine’ clothing, you often found him wearing your stuff. He grabs handfuls of different fabrics, holding them up seemingly inspecting them.

He gently took your chin in large hand, smiling and telling you to shut your eyes as he came closer with some black eyeliner. Peeking through your lashes you could see the concentration on his face. The way his eyes furrow gently, teeth holding his lower lip as he focuses on his masterpiece.

“What got you into all of this stuff in the first place?” You ask, “Fashion, dressing up, the avant-garde style?”

He pulls away as he puts the lid back on the pencil. “I’m not gonna lie, I did do my fair share of raiding Allison’s wardrobe growing up, stealing a few of her magazines from her dresser etcetera. Guess I wanted the interior to mach the exterior, my personality definitely matches my appearance, now open your eyes?”

You do and look once again at him, his eyes are scanning your face for any imperfections he may come across. Finally deciding that his work was complete, he lets you turn to the mirror to see for yourself. You gaze at your reflection, it was subtle. Well, at least more subtle than you were expecting. Just some purple glitter on your eyes, slightly leading up towards your temples. It was the kind that was almost invisible in the dark, but would shimmer when the light hit it in the right angle. Perfect. You turned back to Klaus, his head resting in his hands as he studied your face for any disapproving looks.

“It’s perfect” you said,

“C’est magnifique.”

He stands up and hands you a bunch of clothes he has carefully selected. Urging you to put them on, he seemed almost as excited as a child playing dress up. The thought struck a nerve with you, remembering his less than ideal childhood, he probably never had the chance to experience this. Not wanting to keep him waiting any longer, you gathered the clothes in your arms and headed to the bathroom to change.

“Oh so you’re shy now? I promised I wouldn’t have peaked.” He says with a wink.

You can’t help but roll your eyes at his playful flirting, shutting the door behind you to inspect what outrageous outfit he had chosen this time. Flicking through the clothes you decide to just put them on, trusting his judgement on what he feels would look best. A pair of his wide legged black trousers and a pair of combat boots, matched with a sheer black button up shirt and on of his signature long necklaces. This outfit was definitely out of your comfort zone, however, you didn’t hate it at all. Fluffing up your hair to make it look slightly lived in, you open the door to your boyfriend to let him take in the view of his creation.

He turned around as soon as he heard the door open. His face softened into a genuine smile, he stood up to see you fully. Taking in your appearance, he couldn’t help but admire you. The way his trousers hugged your waist with the shirt elegantly draped over your shoulders was stunning. He stepped forwards to add some finishing touches, tucking in the shirt and undoing the top three buttons. He stopped at the third and gave you a suggestive smirk, you batted his hands away with a small chuckle.

“So give us a spin,” he smirked, which you reluctantly did, suddenly feeling slightly embarrassed as he shamelessly looked up and down your body. He noticed your hesitation and pulled you towards him by your waist.

“If you don’t like it you can take it off, you know that right?” A worried look now grazing his features, in fear he made you uncomfortable. You just smiled at his concern for you.

“I know, but your clothes just look so much better on me.”

“Brilliant” He said stifling a laugh, he began coaxing you to the door, holding out his classic black coat for you to put on. Checking one last time for your keys, phone and wallet, the two of you were ready to leave.

“M’lady…” He said, opening the door ahead and dramatically gesturing for you to go through. You head out to see where the night takes you both, arms linked together as you traverse the city, looking for excitement.

#klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves headcanon #klaus hargreeves fanfic #The Umbrella Academy #the umbrella academy headcanon #the umbrella academy fanfic #the umbrella academy ship #the umbrella academy fanfiction #klaus hargreeves fanfiction #tua #tua imagine #klaus hargreeves imagine

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thejoshuaglenn-blog · 3 years ago

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You're a Good Boy, Charlie Brown

The key purpose of a Tumblr blog here is really a brain dump: logging thoughts, feelings, narrative and such is easier in long form than via a brief Facebook post that generates half a dozen "oh no, what happened" comments. As I'm writing this, most of it seems like bullet points and organized timelines. If you're looking for a TL;DR or current state of thoughts, it's the last section titled The Day After, and the Day After That.

A few days ago, Niko and I said goodbye to our first dog, Charlie Brown.

I'm not keen to chat about it a lot. There's more to process than I have time to type; most of it centers around being fair to myself and to Niko, taking the time to appreciate his life without beating ourselves up, and avoiding the overwhelming mire that grief can become.

Joining the Family

CB was a rescue, a hapless victim of the 2016 Louisiana floods and a happy-go-lucky participant in a "dog for a day" event hosted by a local shelter. I fully expected to rent him out for a day, give him a few great experiences, and return him. For myriad reasons, we never did bring him back to Pet Rescue by Judy, and he's been with us ever since.

At adoption, he was estimated to be around 4-8 years old. With a kicked-in shoulder that offset his collarbone and ribcage, some assorted dental issues, and other little signs of damage (cigarette burns, what the heck is wrong with people), it was tough to really gauge his age. That means he left this world at the ripe old age of something like 9-13, which isn't terrible considering all he'd been through.

Charlie Brown was the iconic good boy. He seldom barked, he never licked or jumped, and just wanted to be in the same room as his favorite people. He had a few toys that he cherished, never ripping them up, just carrying them with him from room to room and whining a bit, unsure of where he could store them for safekeeping. Apart from some separation anxiety issues and an occasional urge to bolt out the door and book it as far as he could, CB was by all accounts an easy first dog: more like a low-effort cat than anything else.

Slowly Falling Apart

Over time, the health issues increased. Intermittent but predictably regular upset tummy. Bad gums, bad teeth. Random gooey skin lesion. Eye ulcers. Since October, we've been averaging 2-3 unplanned vet visits a month — many incurring some hefty bills. We'd take out another credit card, find another financing plan, but it adds up. So does the emotional toil on the family; so does the anxiety toll on the dog.

You start to think about quality of life for the dog, you know? He'd had a few teeth removed to sew up his gums after they kinda detached and fell apart from his jawbone — so he couldn't chew anything hard. Couldn't even chew a tennis ball, which was the only toy he took interest in anymore. Couldn't have any fun treats like peanut butter or other soft chews, as his tummy would have bad flare-ups that usually ended up with him attached to an IV bag. After finally settling in and learning to play well with Atlas, Charlie Brown started to get pretty irritable whenever Atlas got frisky.

He still loved running around outdoors, and was in otherwise great health.

I can't tell you how guilty that makes me feel, even now.

Moving to Waltham

Before we left Orlando, there were so many crisis moments in emergency vet offices where Niko and I talked about how long he could ride this roller coaster. CB obviously was not a fan of vet visits: loved the staff, but was notably anxious and panicky when separated from us, and he had grown very loathe to the process of poking, prodding, and whatnot.

Shortly after moving to Waltham (he was a champ in the U-Haul), Charlie Brown had a severe colitis flare-up. He was losing so much fluid and was growing very lethargic over the day. Vets are hard to get into these days: with the sweep of "pandemic puppy" adoptions, the vet industry as a whole is saturated with demand, and practices are responding as best they can. There were just no emergency clinics available to us within 20 miles, except one that noted "we have no availability, but you can come and wait, and we might be able to see you in 4 or 5 hours." So we did.

It was a very late night. Charlie Brown came home with us with another round of the same antibiotics he'd been taking almost regularly since December for his assorted ailments, and some probiotics. The next day, CB seemed a bit better and brighter, and Niko and I went into the city for part of the day. We came home to find he'd had an accident, but it was just... blood. So so much. And he looked so in pain, so ashamed, so guilty, so anxious.

So we went back to the vet ER. It was another very late night. I didn't know how many of these late nights we could afford; neither of us knew how many of these late nights it was fair to expect Charlie Brown to endure.

Do you plan on letting a pet go after an extended crisis visit? Do you plan on letting a pet go in a time of relative peace?

Camping Analogy, and a Best Last Day

When you're off on a long hike, and you see daylight start to fade as the sun begins to set, you begin to think about finding a good place to set up camp for the night. It's abysmal to do this after the sun has already gone down: where you could have had preparation and structure, you have chaos by flashlight.

A dog's life is in your hands. You're his whole world: all food, adventure, pampering, challenge, treatment, and care come from you. More than anything, we wanted Charlie Brown to have a peaceful, restful life. Now that we started thinking about it, we wanted to be able to give him a peaceful, restful passing as well: not as the climax of another overnight crisis with injections and yelps and beeps and cowering and anxiety and fear, but in the still quiet of familiar sounds and smells.

His very last day was a great one. Fresh Pond in Cambridge: a massive stroll around a colossal lake with an absurd bounty of new smells, kind people, happy dogs, and a brisk New England breeze. He got to swim in a little side pond — that boy lived for jumping into random lakes. He ran around the broad field that is Kingsley Bowl, chasing a thrown ball the very very farthest his sad pop could throw it — and he brought it back. We bought him a steak. We told him how much he brought to our lives.

And then we waited.

Lap of Love is a sort of home delivery service of dignified passing for pets. There's more to say on that hour than I care to pen, but throughout the procedure, we never left him. Charlie Brown passed enveloped in our arms and laps and sobs and hugs.

The Day After, and the Day After That

The rest is just thoughts. Your head starts to feel like a coffee shop where your grief comes in, sits at a table with you, and unloads. You nod, listen, and wish them well. I hope I can keep processing this way — I find it helpful, and less overwhelming.

I wish he had been able to play with his tennis ball more. Since his jaw surgery — even out on Kingsley Bowl, nearly a month and a half after he should have been fully healed — any kind of chewing would cause renewed bleeding and pain.

I wish we had hugged him more. But truth be told, he didn't like hugs. They made him uncomfortable. So we gave him a hand to lay his head on, or a knee for him to pop his head upon, as often as he liked.

There were so many times I felt inconvenienced by owning a dog at all. They weren't the majority, but... now each remembered time feels like a splinter of selfishness.

I miss how familiar the back of his neck felt under my hand, just behind the ears, where the waves of fur meet and crash and make a long cowlick of foof and fluff.

His happy smile and his stressed smile were very similar, but you could still tell which was which.

I loved being there for him in thunderstorms.

When you think about it, we sort of were hospice care for him. We weren't his original owners; we just wanted the rest of his life to be painless and fulfilling. He had so many trust issues when he first came to us. And in the end, he loved anyone he met.

I miss feeling around with my feet to make sure I don't step on him on my way to bed. I miss setting my feet on the floor as I wake, stooping down, and giving his head a good squishy rub.

He never did get to see Boston snow. I mean... thousands of dogs never get to see snow. But I was really looking forward to sharing that experience with him.

I wanted so badly to bring him to a point of health, and then say goodbye when he was feeling well. Seeing him have his Best Last Day, part of me whispered "murderer" with cold accuracy, and I have a hard time shaking it. He was so happy — but between jaw bleeding after playing with a tennis ball, seeing him scratch his eyes that were starting to ache with ulcers again... I know the unbridled happiness came with the reality of his declining health.

Atlas was the best thing that ever happened to that boy. I know Charlie Brown was at least a little disgruntled that his easy-going day-to-day had been interrupted by a chompy puppy, but Atlas brought out the young pup in CB: ripping palm fronds to shreds, playing tug, playing tag, meeting new dogs with confidence and assurance.

I used to get so mad at my mother-in-law for feeding Charlie Brown cinnamon donuts. I wish I'd given him more. Heck, I wish I'd given him more peanut butter. I'm frankly surprised he hadn't died of peanut butter overdose years ago.

Where Charlie's health had limits, we kept going with Atlas. That might mean taking Atlas out to play with a ball or a tug toy, because CB couldn't. It breaks my heart now to think of Charlie at the glass door just watching it happen, all because he physically couldn't play the same. I know he didn't understand that.

We took him out to Park Ave maybe once or twice. I wish it had been more. Truth be told, it was the same as the dog park, though: he was kind of a loner. Loads of people or dogs made him anxious. So while I might idealize the past and wish he had sat at our legs for lunch after lunch at an outdoor thoroughfare, ... I think he would have been miserable. I think he would have rather just curled up at the base of the couch and dozed while we watched a show.

He was so trusting. I could just drag him onto his back and onto my lap for cuddles and a good tummy rub. No complaints.

He looked so gaunt these past few months. I keep looking at earlier photos, and I really didn't realize just how grizzly and drawn he had become lately.

I miss seeing him randomly waiting for me outside the bathroom door — or curled up on the bath mat while I was in the shower, having sneakily nosed the door open and wanting my company while I was rinsing.

For his first few years with us, he was incredibly playful. I've been going through old videos — it's like going outside just blew his mind, and toys were either for cherishing daintily, or thrashing about and throwing to oneself and gnawing. He lost that after a time. He regained it a bit when Atlas joined the party. But it still faded. I'm sure that's inevitable, but it makes me sad to see the early vibrant puppy in those old recordings, and how different he had been in recent months.

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missbeautyandherbeast · 5 years ago

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Enough (now on the right blog)

Donatello x Reader

Summary: All your life you had been ‘overweight’. And no one would let you forget it, and certainly not your family. A few years and moving out seemed to fade the problem a bit but there were still side effects. But nothing you couldn’t handle... right? You had a new life and an incredibly loving boyfriend to always pick you up...right?

A/N: This is deep stuff. Please, all of you, read with caution. this isn’t a light topic and I know that. I am not asking for advice or your opinion, I am writing about my feelings and experiences through an outlet that lets me sort through them easier. This is a sensitive subject for many of you as it is me, be a decent person.

Warnings: Eating disorders, body dysmorphia, panic attack, fluff I promise.

@im-a-loser-for-tmnt-deactivated

I had known the turtles for a few years. They found me my senior year of high school and I was halfway through my college career, it deciding to run longer than I thought because I switched my plans so that I was going to double major.

Raph teased me constantly about my intelligence and good girl persona and I let it slide. He was jealous. I could live with that. And I had, from a lot of other people too. And I knew I was smart; my 34 ACT score was attesting to that. I didn’t brag though. Donnie did enough of that on my behalf.

Before we had gotten together, I would lend him my textbooks. Whether it was Calculus, or Latin, he went through each one, always asking for more. I eventually got a library card just so that I could keep getting him more books. That turned into us studying together—I needed my Latin book after all, and though learning it sucked hard, it wasn’t as bad when Donnie was by my side trying to untangle the language with me. Now that I was in my third semester of it, we were both pretty good and had well over a thousand flash cards.

I could tell that he was disappointed by my lack of science textbooks. He knew that I was an English and Classics major, I didn’t need science for that. I took my social science of Psychology during my first semester. He never pressed me on it, but I could always see his eyes searching for them with each book I brought.

I had my prejudices against science. Were they reasonable? Yes, but not in the way that anyone else would, think. And Donnie didn’t know I had them at all, yet he was smart, he probably inferred it. He still didn’t press it. Until one night when we were talking about something completely different did the topic come up.

“You need to eat.” His eyes narrowed, offering me the mostly empty box of pizza.

It smelled mouthwatering and looked so appetizing, but I refrained. I had already eaten twice today. That was all I allowed myself.

“I’m not hungry,” I mumbled, closing my eyes and leaning back on the couch. “Just tired.”

“Because you haven’t eaten enough.” His tone was a bit harsher than before, and he said it as if it were obvious.

“I ate today!” I almost growled. “What more do you want?”

“You need more energy,” He backed down at my aggressive tone. “You’re doing a lot more these days, all of the back and forth from here to home to college. You need energy.”

I looked up at him to see a soft expression on his face, pleading. I shook my head and folded my arms.

“No,” I whispered, unsure of my voice. “I’m not going to.”

He sighed and threw the box onto the coffee table then rubbed his face, giving into my stubbornness.

“And why not?”

Maybe my battle wasn’t over.

“Because I will throw up.” I tried to say it as nonchalantly as possible, but Donnie knew me, he could hear the pain and sadness underneath.

Without a word he pulled me into his lap, cradling me as if I were the most precious thing in the world. I wanted that to be true, but it felt so far from the truth.

“You know you’re beautiful,” He murmured into my hair softly.

I wanted that to be true too. Shrugging, I rolled my eyes. He chuckled sadly.

“I guess it doesn’t help that I think you're sexy then?” He mused slightly.

I almost laughed. I would have if this weren’t the subject. Instead, I held my tongue. He sighed again, something thoughtful this time.

“Of all the things, why would you fret over your looks, my love?” He pondered. “You seem to like me, and I’m not exactly the ideal body image.” His joke wasn’t lost on me, I just wasn’t in the mood.

“You weren’t raised being told to look like an athlete and being so far from one,” I whispered. “And now... I’m in a school with thousands of volleyball players and sorority girls and...” I trailed off.

“No one wants them any more love, if you haven’t noticed, you’re kind of in style right now. Call it what you may, a fad or something more, but you are accepted in society as well as in my heart.” He murmured, rubbing my arm. “And speaking medically, you’re fine too.”

I went absolutely rigid at his last sentence. Suddenly I needed out. I couldn’t take him touching me. My senses shut themselves down, as the words I yearned to scream clawed their way up my throat.

“I will never be accepted medically. I will always be overweight and unfit to every doctor and physician.” I bit out venomously, making my way out of his arms. Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away. “And I can’t change that.”

My voice sounded uneven as I balled my hands into fists. Donnie was shocked at my outburst and quickly tried to pacify me.

“Those charts are always wrong, Y/n, love.” He stood, coming toward me. “They account for male body types, not females, and you’re biologically different,” I backed away, shaking my head.

“Please, just leave me alone,” I begged and headed for his room, the one we shared whenever I stayed.

I slid down against the closed door and no longer fought against my tears. Sobs wracked my frame as I tried to curl up smaller and smaller.

I was never enough. I could never be enough. Science would never accept me. It would always tell me I’m wrong. It will always tell me that I’m not beautiful. How can I argue with what everyone calls fact?

There was a small knock on the door, maybe an hour later.

“Y/n?”

It was Donnie. Of course, it was. His voice was small and timid.

“Love, please,” He begged. “I’m so sorry. I know I went overboard. I’m not used to hearing you talk like that, hurting so badly. Please, don’t shut me out. I’m glad you told me,” He paused, as if he were to debate continuing. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to what you were actually trying to tell me. I’m sorry that I butted in and overreacted. Please, I didn’t mean to make it worse like I did.” I could hear him take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ll be out here when you’re ready.”

Silent tears made their way down my face once more at his words. I pulled myself off the floor and headed for the bathroom. After a long hot shower with the water scorching my skin, I found an old hoodie that I could hide in for the night before I made my way to Don’s lab.

He was there, like I knew he would be, staring blankly at his computers, not giving them much attention. I paused and bit my lip. Something in my action tipped off his acute senses. “

Y/n?” He asked, his eyes hopeful and filled with sorrow.

“I showered,” I announced slowly as if the task were more of a feat.

He gave a soft smile and opened his arms for me. I made my way to him slowly and curled up in his lap. “I know I didn’t help the way I wanted to,” He confessed in a low voice. “M’sorry baby girl,”

I didn’t speak for some time and I didn’t meet his eyes.

“Society accepts me.” I began. “You accept me, even I do at times, but...” I shook my head. “They never will.”

We both went silent at my words, Donnie absentmindedly rubbing my arm again.

“It’s why I hate science. And will never take a biology class.” My voice was hoarse. “And why I don’t go to the doctors when I’m sick.” I chose my next words carefully. “They put me on trial with false facts. Facts that change over the years... and I’m still found guilty. I’ll never be enough for them.”

Donnie nodded at my little speech and rocked me gently. “You’ll always be enough for me,” He pulled me closer, “Right where you are. All the hurt and brokenness, it’s enough to me.”

For the first time in my life, I was enough for someone, just the way I was.

#donatello x reader #donnie x reader #tmnt donnie #tmnt donatello #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2016 #tmnt donatello 2016 #eating disoder things #body dysmorphia #you're beautiful #i promise #itll be okay

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franklyshipping · 5 years ago

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True Happiness Needs No Sound ~ A Jacksepticeye Ego Fanfic

Thiiiiis is a lovely prompt from the snazzy @petunia9402 who is always so lovely on the blog and their prompt is an AWESOME one! This is set with the interpretation that Jameson Jackson has no voice at all btw....LET'S DO THIS!

Jameson Jackson, I'm very sorry to say, was not smiling. Nor had he smiled all day. Jamie was the sort of guy who usually wasn't troubled or self-conscious about himself because he had so many loving people around him who loved and appreciated every single part of him...but lately....Jamie hadn't been feeling it. The Septics were a rowdy bunch, always cracking jokes to make each other laugh, always rough-housing, tickling, playing, all that awesome stuff....but none of that stuff had really seemed to extend to Jamie recently.

The only time Jamie seemed to hear jokes was when he happened to be in the room when they were being told....no-one actively tried to make him laugh with humour. No-one tried to wrestle with him, tickle him, play with him...and Jamie knew why. Jamie couldn't laugh, he couldn't make one single sound. Why waste jokes when you're not going to get a reaction? It was pointless. HE was pointless. That was how Jameson Jackson felt. He was upset, sour, and attempting to cope by gripping a blanket so hard that his knuckles turned white. He couldn't even scream to let his emotions out.

Thankfully....that was when our hero dropped in. Jamie was curled up on the couch in the living room, aimlessly looking at a wall in a dazed manner. That was how Chase Brody found him. Chase grinned as he spotted the dapper gentleman, and immediately sunk down next to him on the couch, rubbing shoulders with him in a true bro fashion.

'What's cookin' in Jameson land?'

Jamie....didn't react in the way Chase expected. Instead of a cheery smile, a playful shove, or an excitably signed sentence, all Jamie exhibited was a light shrug and brief sign.

'Nothing.'

Chase, obviously, was immediately concerned, especially since Jamie hadn't even turned to look at him. Chase sat up straighter and tentatively placed his hand on Jamie's back, leaning in a little to try and see his face to see if he could maybe analyse what was wrong with the sweet guy.

'Hey....buddy you know you can tell me anything....'

Chase spoke softly, making sure his reassuring smile stayed on his lips. Now, in Jamie's mind he would have ideally wanted to be strong. He liked to think he would have been able to tough this sort of thing out like the others do when they pretend that they're not upset....but he couldn't. Jamie just burst into sad, silent tears.

'Everything's just pointless. I'm pointless!'

Jamie's hands looked like they were almost spasming with how shaky his signing was, and Chase hurried to envelop the man in a hug because Chase knew that Jamie needed it if he was going to feel safe enough to reveal what was going on. Chase took a moment to stow away his shock for now as he stroked Jamie's hair, whispering to him gently.

'Hey, hey why would you think that huh? You're a septic, how could you ever think that you were pointless?'

Jamie was shaking his head as he sobbed and sobbed in silence. The only sound that was in the room was Jamie's frantic, jittery panting as he signed.

'How can I be one of you? How can I be a septic when everything about you all revolves around happiness and laughter? I can't do any of that Chase, I can't be like that with any of you! I can't laugh with you, so why should you all even bother with me?'

....Chase was nearly on the verge of tears. Chase's mind was racing with questions. Had someone put these ideas in Jamie's head? Had he and the others accidently excluded him from things without realising? How long had Jamie been feeling like this? Chase's blood ran cold as he wondered how many times Jamie might have been bawling his eyes out while they were just in the next room....oblivious. No. NO. Chase was not having it. Chase cupped one of Jamie's cheeks and shifted a little, so he could look at the shivering, upset man properly as he brought out the voice of the loving dad that he was.

'Now you listen here. Being able to laugh is NOT a requirement to be one of us, being able to laugh isn't a requirement for ANYTHING. We love you so damn much and you bring us happiness just by existing....'

Chase trailed off, making sure that Jamie was still close and embraced as he gave the younger man time to process what Chase was saying; Chase knew better than anyone that it took so much longer to process words in your brain when you feel like crap. Jamie though, much to Chase's relief, started to pant less and less, bit by bit....he was just starting to calm down from it all, just a little. Chase smiled warmly, and murmured with a smile.

'....besides, I know I don't need to hear a laugh from you to know when my humour is tickling you in all the right places!'

Chase took the opportunity to lightly pinch Jamie's cheeks with a fond smile, and to Chase's delight, Jamie blushed and bapped at him; he was even hiding a little smile as he signed.

'Your jokes are awful....'

Jamie looked up at Chase softly, and let him see his little smile, just so that Chase knew he was only in jest. Chase, of course, let out quite the indignant gasp at this apparent rudeness!

'Well....that's just because I save my best material for special occasions! I'll give you one of my best jokes to prove it!'

Chase replied matter-of-factly, before clearing his throat with the greatest amount of exaggeration that he could possibly muster.

'The best joke, in the entire world actually, iiiis....'

Jamie had one of his eyebrows raised a little, especially when Chase trailed off and paused for dramatic effect whilst waggling his eyebrows comically. Then, Chase smirked and did snazzy finger-guns as he delivered his punch-line.

'Anti's dress sense!'

Jamie was biting down hard on his bottom lip. Why? Because it was taking every single ounce of willpower Jamie had inside him not to break out into a grin and shake with laughter at how amazing that joke was, as well as at how utterly bold and brave it was! Luckily Jamie managed to cover his mouth and stop any mirth....but he couldn't stop that bright smile of his; he couldn't help it, Chase always made him smile.

'Ohhhh what's this? Was that, I daresay, a smiiiiile?'

Chase gasped as he cooed, giggling in victory at seeing Jamie trying to cover up his evident happier mood. Jamie shook his head in defiance at Chase....but Chase wasn't going to let that smile go. He inched especially close to Jamie, a grin in place as he growled goofily.

'You'd better show me that smile....or I'll make you!'

Chase made his hands into claws and playfully wiggled his fingers....but what he didn't expect was for Jamie's smile to fade and for his face to fall into a frown; Jamie's melancholy had come back, and Chase stuttered frantically, endeavouring to see what was wrong and how he could fix it.

'....d-did I say something wrong?'

Chase lowered his hands as nerves bubbled in him....but he let out a light sigh of relief when Jamie shook his head....but then he felt like he was being punched in the gut as he interpreted what Jamie signed next.

'....the only point of tickling is to make someone laugh. You're wasting it on me.'

....first off, Chase made a mental note to find out who the fuck provided the first spark that caused this mentality to develop inside Jamie. For now though, Chase took a breath. He was here for Jamie, and he was damn well going to show it!

'Well, I'm sorry but you'll have to say something better that THAT if you don't want the tickles! Oh, plus you're wrong.'

Chase's voice was so strong and resolute, that it took the melancholic Jamie off guard and made him blink up at Chase in surprise; he didn't know Chase had that much assertiveness in him! Now, with Jamie focusing on letting the words start to sink in, that meant he didn't move to stop Chase when he lightly straddled the pondering man.

'Tickling is about trust, bonding....'

Jamie blinked and looked up at Chase, his next words bringing him back to reality....and causing to develop a sweet, wobbly smile. Jamie knew that Chase was too much of a lazy, silly man to even contemplate lying to someone about something, so he knew that Chase meant every word he said. Plus, with Jamie having developed a smile once more and looking much less melancholy....only one thought was in Chase's mind. He had to keep Jamie like this for eternity. So, Chase grinned, growled, and readied his fingers.

'....and giving those you love an absolute wrecking when they need it most.'

Chase snickered and struck, and struck well. As soon as those scratching fingers of his found Jamie's tummy, Jamie was done for. All he could do was grin and wiggle from side to side as his chest shook with sweet mirth; plus he had the most precious dimples you have ever seen on a person. Jamie was also gazing up at Chase pleadingly as he signed at a rather fast pace....he was frantic....because Jamie knew that Chase knew ALL of his tickle spots.

'But I don't need it I don't I don't I don't!'

Chase giggled fondly down at Jamie, enjoying scratching the man's soft belly as those dimples just got deeper and deeper.

'What do you mean you don't need it? You already look so much happier now, especially with those pretty diiiiimples!'

Chase crooned, squishing the flesh of Jamie's belly playfully; this of course made a) Jamie sign even MORE frantically, and b) hurry to cover his face which was slowly becoming the most delightful dark pink colour.

'I don't have dimples, you have no proof!'

Ahh, that sweet, sweet defiant denial. At seeing Jamie try to hide himself and try to LIE of all things, this made Chase gasp in utter shock that Jamie would express such dishonest evasion! So of course, he promptly scribbled into Jamie's belly and put on a rather authoritative voice.

'Oh you'd better lower those hands right now mister, or things are gonna get muuuuch worse.....'

Jamie's eyes widened at the more intense tickling, and he arched his back and tossed his head as a result of it all; Chase's fingers were digging in SO much, it was evil! However....Jamie did not, even for a second, move his hands from his mouth; even though the tickling was so bad, Jamie managed the tiniest of glares in Chase's direction. Chase smirked....because oh how he'd hoped for that reaction.

'Fine, if that's how you wanna play....'

Chase purred, letting his hands drift away from Jamie's belly for a few moments, allowing the man to cutely huff and catch his breath. No seriously, every little huff of an inhale or an exhale that Jamie exhibited was so cute that it would have made a rocky cliff aww. Of course though, that bliss of recovery couldn't last forever; Jamie soon realised that when he felt Chase's fingers....splaying over the tops of his thighs.

'No not there Chase please, look I did what you wanted, look!'

Jamie revealed his flustered grin as he signed at fast as he could, gazing at Chase imploringly the whole time because dammit his thighs were so damn ticklish! Of course, Jamie reasoned that because now he'd done what Chase had asked, he'd get mercy, right? Yeah uh....Chase's malevolent smirk currently suggested otherwise as his fingertips kept splaying over Jamie's tense thigh muscles.

'Mmmm, yeah you did....but unfortunately, you took waaay too long to obey me....and now you must be punished!'

Chase then promptly set about pinching the soft flesh of Jamie's thighs, which as you can imagine, prompted quite the reaction from the sweet, sensitive man. Jamie literally started assaulting the couch as his mouth opened wide, and his whole torso was quivering with all his cute mirth!

'Awww look at these tickly squishy thiiiighs!'

Chase's teasing did not help. Yes, Jamie was well aware that he had rather squishy and sensitive thighs but he CERTAINLY didn't need to have it pointed out to him by a meanie tickler! Jamie was tugging at his legs as he gazed at Chase with flustered, watery eyes.

'Shut up shut up!'

Chase giggled fondly at Jamie, gosh he was probably one of the cutest people on the planet. Chase loved seeing how wild Jamie got physically; if he was Jackie's side-kick, all the hero would have to do is poke or squeeze him and get him to flail and knock out all the villains that way! Talking of squeezing, Chase was now rather enjoying doing that to Jamie's poor thighs.

'Or what? You'll keep smiling handsomely at me?'

Chase smugly retorted, snickering at Jamie's sweet red face and sweet bright smile-....and sweet snorts? Oh yeah, that's right people. Jamie had started snorting, a sound which didn't require the involvement of vocal chords; of course, this was something else that Chase decided he must gasp dramatically at, I mean, what kind of playful tickler would he be if he didn't?!

'Ohhh, you intend to snort at me! Well, frankly that just makes me want to tickle you even more!'

Chase grinned as he scribbled over Jamie's thighs, delighting in the torrent of snorts he got in return from his sweet little tickle victim; said victim ended up struggling harder and signing faster.

'No you can't make me snort, I sound dumb!'

Jamie pouted up at Chase amidst his reply, he didn't see how sounding like an undignified pig was anything close to a good thing! Chase of course was VERY quick to disagree with this notion.

'Actually, you sound and look very precious and happy!'

.....I personally love it when someone says something just that little bit more meaningful out of nowhere, and it just really catches you off guard but in the loveliest way. It certainly caught Jamie off guard. Jamie developed a wobbly, happy smile, sniffling and gasping as Chase let him catch his breath for a little bit. Chase then just took the opportunity to just....enjoy looking at Jamie, seeing all the colour in his cheeks, his persistent smile, his jittery chest; he was too adorable.

'You really think that?'

Chase blinked when he saw Jamie slowly sign to him with imploring eyes, and Chase didn't hesitate to nod and grin....whilst subtly shuffling his way down to Jamie's shins so he could ''casually'' rest on them.

'Oh I do....it's so cute how your chest quivers, and how your dimples make your cheeks look even more pinchable....and how your eyes widen when you know the tickling is about to start....'

Chase purred softly, and at first Jamie felt so warmed and giddy at the sweet compliments....but then the happy butterflies in his system started to get more and more active as Jamie listened more. He realised...that Chase was not done. As if on cue too, when he felt a single finger swipe up one of his bare feet, Jamie's eyes widened.

'Wait no wait not my feet you know I can't handle it! I might cry!'

Jamie signed frantically, clinging to the weak hope of Chase maybe having mercy....but ah, that wasn't going to happen. Chase of course awed at Jamie at how sweet and flustered he was....before smirking and setting about scratching up and down BOTH of Jamie's pale soles.

'Awwww don't worry, that's what tissues are for!'

Jamie's reaction was gorgeous. His mouth opened as wide as it could go as the sensitive man arched his back, thumping the couch as his mind raced with shock at how ruthless Chase was being! This was Jamie's equivalent of screaming, his feet were hands down his worst tickle spot, so Jamie did the only thing he could do. He begged.

'NO PLEASE NO NO PLEASE CHASE! MEANIE! YOU MEANIE!'

Jamie scrunched his feet as his pleading signs made Chase giggle fondly, but Chase only set about scratching deep into Jamie's wrinkles as he cooed.

'If you think scrunching up these pretty feet will save you then you are soooo wrong....'

The hardened scratching made Jamie let out a spontaneous snort, before his form just shivered and jumped with his silent hiccups of laughter. It was a rather a precious sight to behold, and Jamie's hands were practically a blur at this point too.

'I'M GOING TO GET YOU BACK FOR THIS!'

Poor Jamie, he was so overcome by the tickles that his brain somehow thought a threat was a good idea! Chase raised an amused eyebrow down at the red-faced thrashing man, and mercilessly scratched under Jamie's toes as he chuckled.

'Oh yeah? You and what ler mood, hm?'

Oh yeah, Chase went there. Poor Jamie was so embarrassed amidst his mirth as Chase brought up the implicit truth of the fact that Jamie could have easily sat up and grabbed Chase's hands at any time....but he was too happy. He was too happy at being tickled and cheered up to make it stop.

'PLEASE! NO MORE! CHASE, MY FEET CHASE!'

Under other circumstances, Jamie would have retorted against Chase's words, but with all the tickling he could only focus on trying to sign coherently. Jamie had little tears trickling from the corners of his eyes, and was weeping with silent laughter....as Chase merely snickered.

'Mmm, they are lovely and soft feet you have here....'

Chase's scratching fingertips never left the undersides of Jamie's poor toes, and by now the poor dapper man had tears really streaming down his face. Of course though, Chase wasn't going to torture him forever.

'MERCY! MERCY! MERCY!'

That was the word that Chase needed to see. He grinned and relented, sliding off Jamie's legs and crawling up to him so he could envelop Jamie in a warm hug; he wasn't completely cruel! Chase chuckled affectionately as he ran his fingers through Jamie's hair, smiling when he felt the panting man snuggle close. He produced a tissue from his back pocket and lightly dabbed at Jamie's cheeks and eyes, whilst murmuring in a soft voice.

'....s-sorry if I, heh, got a little intense on you kid....I just wanted you, well, needed, you to know that we love you so damn much. No matter what you can and can't do, that doesn't stop you being one of us. The best one of us to be honest.'

....honestly, those words alone could have sent Jamie weeping for a good ten years. He didn't though. Jamie gazed up at Chase with watery eyes and a wobbly smile....he felt so damn happy and loved and looked after.

'I love you dad.'

....aaand now Chase was also tearing up, damn you Jamie for making the whole thing even MORE heart-warming! Chase grinned and ruffled Jamie's hair, pulling him closer as he gave him the strongest, most loving hug that he could muster.

'Love you too kid.'

Jamie let out a soft, happy sniffle at Chase's reply....and then let out quite a few more silent giggles since Chase had decided to take it upon himself to mess up Jamie's hair every few seconds for the foreseeable future. Well, that's a good, loving dad for you.

WOOOO HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS FIC LEMME KNOW IF YA DIIIID WOOOOP LUV YOUS XX

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye egos #jameson jackson #jamie #chase brody #chase #platonic #sfw #prompt #ego fic #ego fanfic #tickle fic #tickle fanfic #tickle #tickles #tickling #ticklish #luv these cuties

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evilrubberducke · 5 years ago

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IzuMina Week Day 3- Punch Drunk Love

The day 3 prompt I chose was “First Drink”. Hope you all enjoy!

If you follow me for my writing/MHA content, you might want to switch over to my new blog EvilMuffinLord. After this week, all MHA/Mina content and my writing will be re-blogged there, and this will be a personal account.

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23323591

Or on FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13530836/3/IzuMina-Week-2020

“Mina?” Uraraka said, tapping her friend’s shoulder to get her attention, “Is it just me, or is Deku looking a little… unsteady?”

Mina frowned, then cast her gaze around the common room in search of her boyfriend. He’d been fine the last time she’d seen him, but Uraraka wasn’t really a worry-wart and it never hurt to double check.

The absolute chaos of the Height’s Alliance common room made the task much more difficult. Their class was in the middle of celebrating their most recent victory over the League of Villains. They hadn’t managed to capture any of the wily criminals, but Izuku, Iida, Jirou and Tokoyami had definitely sent them packing in their latest encounter. The League would be licking their wounds for quite a while, which meant that the heroes had plenty of time to rest, relax, and celebrate.

The entirety of their class filled the common room, as well as most of 1B, a few of the upperclassmen they had managed to befriend, and their teachers. The latter group were mostly keeping to their corner table and supervising the revelry, but their presence was still appreciated.

Finally, Mina managed to spot her boyfriend, and was immediately concerned by what she saw. Izuku was indeed looking a bit unsteady on his feet as he and Iida demonstrated the dance moves she had taught them during the culture festival several months ago.

The two of them looked absolutely ridiculous, as always. Mina had tried to help Izuku improve his dancing skills since the festival, to no avail. Hero work might come easily to him, but when it came to dancing, Izuku had two left feet, and he didn’t know how to use either of them.

Mina was surprised that Izuku had been talked into the activity, given how much he disliked standing out in social settings. If Mina had to guess, it had probably been Mineta who had done the convincing. He was always cooking up some sort of ridiculous scheme to sneak a peek at the girls in their class. The attempts usually backfired horrendously, which was a relief for Mina and her female friends, but they did have to keep an eye on him and do their best to foil his plans.

With a sigh, Mina rose to her feet and prepared to rescue her boyfriend. The slice of cake she had been enjoying would have to wait until later. Maybe she could get Izuku to feed her the last couple bites as a prank.

“Mind watching my food Uraraka?” Mina asked, “I’m going to go rescue Izuku before Mineta talks him into doing something even more ridiculous.”

Uraraka shot her a salute, and Mina began to pick her way across the common room. People were keeping Quirk use to a minimum which made things a little easier, but there were still enough people that crossing the room in any reasonable amount of time was easier said than done.

She eventually managed to reach Izuku and the group surrounding him. He’d stopped dancing while she was making her way over to him, and was now reclining on one of the common room chairs, a curiously happy smile on his face.

“What are you guys up to?” Mina asked.

“Ah, Ashido, perfect timing!” Iida said, turning to face her, “I believe there is something wrong with Midoriya. He is acting most unlike himself.”

“What Iida means is that Midoriya is having fun for the first time in forever, and Iida’s circuits can’t comprehend it,” Mineta cut in, “Just let the man have his fun.”

Before Mina could ask what exactly Mineta was talking about it, Izuku jumped into the conversation and completely derailed her train of thought.

“Don’ worry,” he slurred “I’m fine!”

Now that she was paying attention, Mina could see that Izuku was having trouble focusing on things, and that his cheeks were flushed. Instantly, Mina was on full alert. She knew Izuku had been checked over by Recover Girl after the skirmish, and had been given a clean bill of health, but it was always possible that the Youthful Heroine had missed something. As adrenaline slammed through her system, Mina wondered if it was possible that Izuku had suffered from some sort of head trauma during the fight that was only now beginning to show itself.

“HEY LISTENERS!” Present Mic’s voice boomed throughout the common room, silencing every other conversation in the room, “If anyone has seen Midnight’s drink, let us know. She set it down earlier, but it seems someone moved it. No judgement if it was you. So long as nobody drinks it, we don’t care. The rest of you, keep having fun!”

With a sinking sensation, Mina turned back to Izuku. In light of that last announcement, his list of symptoms took on a whole new possible meaning.

“Izuku, babe, do you have a soda or something?”

He shook his head, then pointed to the nearby table where a tall cup was sitting next to an empty cake plate. “I had juice, but it din taste good, so I stopppped.”

Mineta burst out laughing, causing Mina to level a glare at him.

“Oh come on, you have to admit it’s hilarious that Midoriya managed to get trashed with like two sips of booze.”

“Mineta,” Mina said, her voice perfectly calm, “did you steal Midnight’s drink and give it to Izuku?”

“Nah. I just noticed him grab the wrong drink and stuck around to watch his reaction. Thought he’d just spit it out, but he took it like a champion instead. He’s gonna be real fun at parties!”

In one swift motion, Mina reached behind Mineta and dumped a glob of acid down the back of his shirt. It was a special mixture she’d been working on recently, corrosive enough to be extremely irritating to the skin, but not enough to do any real damage. It was also extremely sticky, and an absolute pain to get off of your skin.

While Mineta was occupied with his sudden and intense bout of itching, Mina turned her attention back to her boyfriend.

“Izuku, what do you say we get you back to your room for some water and a nap?” she said, gently taking his arm.

“But I don’ wanna nap,” he protested weakly. Even as he spoke, his eyes were starting to droop shut, indicating that he was going to be asleep before too much longer.

“Then do you want to go up to your room and talk about All Might for a while?” Mina asked. Using his obsession with the hero to manipulate him made her feel a little scummy, but it was probably kinder than letting him accidentally embarrass himself.

Izuku perked up at her words, like she had known he would, and nodded excitedly. He shot up out of his chair before Mina could start to guide him and began making his way towards the elevators. To Mina’s surprise, Izuku actually pushed his way through the crowd, rather than going around his classmates like he normally would. Apparently Izuku was much more forward when he was drunk, a fact that Mina filed away for later.

“Tell Uraraka she can have the rest of my cake!” Mina called to Iida as she dashed after Izuku.

Iida, for his part, simply shook his head in exasperation, then went to inform their teachers what had happened.

“Are you feeling any better Izuku?” Mina asked.

Izuku groaned in response, burying his head deeper into his pillows. He’d made it back to his room alright, and downed the water Mina had given him, but he was fading fast. He hadn’t even made an attempt to inundate her with All Might factoids like he’d been so excited to do downstairs, preferring to flop down on his bed instead.

She giggled at the uncharacteristically surly response and plopped down on the bed next to him to stroke his hair. The gesture always helped to calm him down when they cuddled, and he had fallen asleep in her arms a couple of times before, so she figured it would help him nod off once again.

She was taken completely by surprise when instead of relaxing into the gesture, Izuku turned onto his side and tried to shove her off the bed. He wasn’t entirely successful, but he did manage to knock her over.

“What was that for?” she asked indignantly, sitting up and leveling a glare at Izuku. She’d been so caught up in how cute he was acting that she hadn’t considered the fact that Izuku had a stubborn streak a mile long, and drunk Izuku could probably be an absolute pain if he wanted to be.

“Don touch my hair,” Izuku said, “I have a girlfriend, an only she gets to do that!”

“You… have a girlfriend?” Mina asked, extraordinarily confused by the statement. As far as she was aware, they were exclusive, and Izuku did not seem like the type to cheat.

“Yea! Her name is Mina, and she's even prettier than you!” Izuku said, nodding to himself.

“I… don’t know how to respond to that,” Mina said, genuinely stumped. She didn’t know if she should be delighted or slightly insulted. On the one hand, he had just proved that he cared deeply for her even while quite intoxicated. On the other hand, getting told that she was less pretty than whatever idealized version of her he had in his head kind of stung.

In the end, she decided to take it as she did so many things with Izuku; as a compliment that had been phrased in the most awkward and ridiculous way possible. Once, they’d been on a date to the Mustafu Aquarium and Izuku had attempted to call her graceful by comparing her to a leaping dolphin. Unfortunately for him, he’d done it by saying she looked like a porpoise.

She’d forgiven him before too long, though he had spent a few hours in the doghouse afterwards, and had learned a valuable lesson about giving Izuku enough rope to hang himself with.

With a sigh, Mina rose to her feet and dusted herself off. This was just one of the things she had to deal with. And being with Izuku was more than worth the occasional frustration. Besides, he put up with her inability to study and penchant for pranks without complaint, so she should at least do the same for him. Besides, it was hardly his fault that this had happened.

“Izuku, if I give you a back rub to help you sleep, are you going to try and push me off the bed again?”

He shook his head, and Mina sat next to him once again. This time he reacted like she expected, snuggling up to her side as she ran her hand gently down his back.

Mina relaxed as well. It wasn’t quite as romantic as some of the cuddle sessions they’d had in the past, but it was enough. Plus, Izuku looked extremely cute half asleep like this.

She barely even noticed as her own eyes started to drift slowly shut, and her stroking of Izuku’s back slowed down until she simply had her arm wrapped around him, her face cuddled against his chest.

The next morning would be awkward, as Mina had to explain how she had fallen asleep in Izuku’s bed and why he had such a pounding headache. That was later though. For the rest of the evening, though, the two of them slept peacefully in the arms of their love.

#izumina #midoriya izuku #mina ashido #izuminaweek2020 #day 3 #First Drink #dekumina #minadeku

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dandrubert · 5 years ago

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Wallpaper

The holiday weekend is over. And it was a long one for me, thanks to my new job (which I still really like.) Since the 4th was on a Thursday and we leave at 2 on Fridays all summer any way, they decided to just give us a 4-day weekend. I’d had that to look forward to for about a month, but now it’s over. And that’s something I’ve learned about life; it’s basically just a never-ending series of things to look forward to. Once one thing is over, something else goes on the schedule. And then that’s over and replaced with the next thing. This is not something that I’ve just realized. I noticed that pattern a long time ago, as most people do, I imagine. But what is fairly new is the feeling of hopelessness that this cycle gives me.

Last time we talked, I mentioned that a resolution to my problem would be coming soon, and it has been resolved for the better for me. It actually took a couple months longer than it should, but that’s beside the point. Early on during the almost 2 years that I was waiting for that to be over, I pretty much convinced myself that this would ultimately be THE thing to look forward to; that things would be different for real afterward, because they were starting to feel like they were turning around before. If I can just make it through this, things will get right back on track. Not only has that proven not to be true, I actually realized quite a while before it came to pass that this wasn’t going to make the difference I hoped it would. If anything, it has made things worse. Because now I realize that I’m missing something so much bigger than anything I could hope to get from any one single event.

As a byproduct, my life has become an ongoing quest for distraction from this realization. I’m always trying to keep busy; trying to find something to do that most people would consider “fun.” But I honestly don’t have much use for “fun.” Fun doesn’t last. When fun is over, all it leaves me with is the chore of trying to find the next “fun” thing I can do to keep myself occupied, distracted. For about the last year or so, I can’t fool myself into thinking that there’s anything worthwhile waiting for me on the other side of “fun.” It never changes anything. I always come home and I’m alone, left to try and find the next distraction that won’t change anything.

I’ve learned that fun doesn’t equal happiness. Happiness might lead to fun, but not the other way around. And I don’t know right now how I’m going to find that. How will I ever gain fulfillment in life? When will there not be emptiness waiting on the other side? I know I’m tired of feeling lonely and I suspect if that was not the case, that would go a long way toward being happy. But it’s not as easy for me as just being around people. For a long time, I’ve felt a detachment from people, almost all people. Sure, I have several long-time close friends from growing up that I still have a connection with, but I honestly don’t know how to even go about making a real connection anymore. Back when I was little, I could just join a baseball or basketball team and there were built-in friends. I got close to some of them as we grew up together, and that was that. Now I can never seem to warm up to someone before they eventually decide, rightly or wrongly, that there’s nothing there to connect with. If I could just talk to or see someone on a regular basis, ideally every day, then I eventually trust them enough to be myself. But people are busy with their lives and that’s hard to do without being the needy, annoying guy that can’t mind his own business.

Maybe that’s not how I’m perceived at all, but it’s how I feel. I’m almost constantly looking at two people talking and thinking to myself, “Are they really that close? Is that what it looks like? I’ve known those people both as long as they’ve known each other, and I wouldn’t say I know either of them at all.” I honestly don’t know how to get past the “casual acquaintance” stage. Or if I am past that stage, I rarely feel that I am. Are my expectations of what it means to have a connection too high? I can do small talk, but that’s boring and I can’t keep that up for long. I want to talk about real stuff, but don’t know how to get there. As a result, it might look at some point like I might make a connection (I don’t even know what else to call that concept, so I’ll just keep saying “connection”) but then, without fail, I always fade back into the background like I’m part of the wallpaper or something; inconsequential.

I often wonder what it is that caused these trust issues. Is it just my nature or was it the cumulative effects of life that caused it? Maybe it was just one specific event that had most of the influence? It’s most likely all of the above, and it also probably doesn’t matter. I don’t need to know why; I need to know how. How do I change it? And I’m not sure how this blog is going to help with that because I’m not asking anyone for advice on what they would do or what works for them. I’m trying to figure out what I can do to fix me, and none of you really know me. I know that’s not any of your faults, and this doesn’t mean I don’t value all of your opinions. It’s just an example of the exact problem I’m trying to fix. I don’t know how to let people in, or maybe more accurately, let myself out. Because I’m not afraid to let people in, I just don’t know how to get to the point where it feels to me like they want in.

Maybe it’s selfish for me to put all these problems out there for the world to see – in essence, asking you to understand my pain - and then tell you all I don’t want your help. I’m sorry if that’s the case. I honestly don’t know what to feel anymore. It’s like I’ve been in a fog of confusion and misunderstanding for about a year now. This blog is me trying one more thing to hopefully snap out of it. I stopped writing for a long time because I wasn’t sure if it was helping at all, but I guess it definitely can’t help if I don’t do it. So, I’m back doing it. At least this one time. Maybe it will inspire someone else to do something they’ve been thinking about doing. I know a couple people that told me a while ago that they started writing because I did, but I haven’t seen them doing it later either. If nothing else, maybe they will get back at it, too, if they want to. I personally wish I didn’t feel like I had to do this. Nobody wants to have problems to fix, but we all do to some degree. Right? I really hope that’s right.

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stuckonswan · 6 years ago

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The Inn of Senrof, Act I

It’s still the 31st in Californiaaaaa After many many MANY months of working on this, I have finally completed my work for the sanders sides big bang run by the lovely blog @ts-storytime An apology for being so late to post, the entire month has been nothing but struggles and things kept popping up to delay me. A major thanks to @bloodropsblog who did everything I could possibly ask of them.

Click Here for Act II

Click Here for art done by @zennyo

Click Here for art done by @lady-literature

Another thanks goes to my lovely artists, @zennyo and @lady-literature who have been patient and supportive, I hope you enjoy the final product.

Trigger Warnings: violence, cursing, fire, arguments, blood, injury

Virgil

Pulvis et umbra sumus

His cloak was a worn black, faded with time and covered in rushed patch jobs, the velvet purple lining the inside peeking out in many places. To most, it would have been retired and packed away, or repaired until very little of its original fabric remained.

However, for Virgil, it was his beginning. The cloak with its deep hood and stitched pockets was where he began his endeavors. Each mark on the garment was a memory, an arrow too close or a sword slash too slow. It reminded him he was alive. That he could fight and that he would win.

So it stayed, secured around his throat, barely keeping him warm with all the holes and tears. The wind billowed around it as he rode on his horse, towards the small town of Senrof.

Senrof was a small city, hidden in the valley between two mountains and where Virgil rode to meet his boisterous and excitable partner, Roman.

The pair had been getting more attention as adventurers and, as a result, have been encountering less than ideal situations where a extra teammate would have made the situation far less dangerous as it had been originally. Coincidentally, a pair of adventurers who’d also been searching for a partner, attempting to make a team more suitable for dangerous missions. Roman had encountered them during a visit in the City of Shrines and they had agreed to meet in Senrof to discuss a possible alliance.

Virgil was a half day's ride away, and running late, as if the gods themselves were against his appearance in the forgotten town. As he rode on, he remembered the last conversation he had had with Roman, nearly a fortnight ago.

“I don’t like this.” Virgil grumbled, taking a large swig of his wine. The pair were staying in an inn, just west of the city of shrines. After a grueling quest, they escaped the city to resupply and rest for two weeks.

It seemed Roman had other ideas, however, as he instead wanted to use their downtime to discuss joining up with another pair of adventurers.

“That’s because change is a foreign concept to you, stormcloud.” Roman jokes, dodging the punch to his arm before taking a sip of his drink and continuing, “We need them if we are to take on higher paying jobs.” Roman clapped Virgil on the shoulder. “One’s a healer, the other’s a talented magician. They’d be of good use.”

“I’m not saying they wouldn’t be. But how do we know we can trust them, Ro?” He was paranoid and Roman knew it. It wasn’t that strange a trait to have when you realized he grew up in an assassins guild. It was expected to be stabbed in the back when you let your guard down. Virgil never really shook that particular habit, and had no want to anyhow.

“The healer is a paladin, Shadow. They’re good, trustworthy men. I promise.”

Virgil had just rounded the bend, lost in thought as he trekked the mountain slope when the thieves attacked, throwing him off his horse and into the snow below. He sucked in a fruitless gasp as the wind rushed out of his body. The three masked thieves rifled through his saddlebags, ignoring Virgil’s prone form on the ground.

A dangerous mistake when robbing someone, Virgil thought angrily, scowling into the snow. The least they could do if they were going to rob him is rob him well. Their daggers were still sheathed, the familiar mark of the assassins guild carved into the hilts. Virgil nearly snorted at the sight. Just his luck to be attacked by his peers.

I’m better, the voice in the back of his mind spoke up. They’re amateurs at best, he noticed, and certainly not taught by her.

“Today’s not your lucky day, boy,” a man snarled from under his mask, probably the leader and certainly the oldest. They moved slowly and clumsy, their feet kicking up snow as they went.

‘Boy?’ The word stuck under his skin, the jab at his apparent naivete leaving a sour taste on his tongue.

Slowly, Virgil stood, his knees shaking with nerves he never could seem to get rid of. His cheek was stung from having been scratched in the fall and his arms were covered in gooseflesh, his cloak having fallen from his shoulders. He knew he looked small and pitiful and it only served to make him angrier.

He stood to his full height, bringing himself up above the thieves. He may be thin but he towered over most. “I believe it’s you who should be worried,” he snapped in irritation.

Before they could react, he smirked, falling into a step sequence he knew by heart. His feet moved along the pattern burned into his muscle memory. The steps flowing through his body as he spun and danced and twisted himself around. In the blink of an eye he was gone.

The darkness having swallowed him whole, welcoming him into the inky black of the rich swath of shadows beneath the mountain.

The thieves, ill trained as they were, spun in circles to try and find his cloaked form. They moved with frustrated caution, unsheathing their daggers and calling out to him as if that will make him reappear.

Virgil rolled his eyes. And they thought him naive.

Fast as lightning, Virgil flew through the shadows, incapacitating the men with practiced ease. They were unconscious before they hit the ground.

Virgil did a sweep of the area, making sure no one else was hidden in the treeline. Just because these men were sloppy didn’t mean he needed to be. When he decided it was safe, he stepped from the shadows, the sunlight once again touching his face.

Completely on autopilot, he removed all the thieves possessions from their persons. Coins, knives, and any valuable items they may have stolen. He left them with little more than the clothes on their back. Then he grabbed a length of rope, tying them securely to a tree he knew was near a soldier’s patrol route.

When he was finished and realized he was safe again, the weight of the moment fell onto his chest making it hard to breathe. He took deep breaths to hold back his oncoming panic attack, but he could never really calm down without Roman chattering in his ear.

It took him seven minutes to start breathing normally again, and another three to calm Sombra down.

The damn thieves in the mountain ranges were getting out of hand. Virgil knew Roman blamed the guild, though he wouldn’t dare say those words aloud for fear of hurting his feelings.

He had trained there and he’d always be a part of the guild. It was his roots and no matter how hard he tries to distance himself, he knows you can’t run away from something that’s apart of you. No matter how hard you try or fast you run.

The shadows licked at his feet as he moved, loyal as they were for the few that they chose the help. They blurred the edges of his form, trying to pull him back into their dark realm. Trying to keep him safe. He smiled and cast them away with a quick flick of his wrist, placating them for the time being before throwing a leg up and climbing onto Sombra’s back.

It wasn’t until sundown that he reached the town, he and Sombra exhausted and ready for a rest. And it wasn’t until moonrise that he reached the inn.

Virgil had paid for a stall in the stables on the outside of the town and decided to walk the rest of the way to the inn, giving his nerves time to settle. He passed several small houses and shops, all closed several hours ago. Only the blacksmith was still open, the owner bringing a hammer down on a screaming lump of metal, still blazing with fire. The moon was at its apex and the shadows swirled around him, beckoning him into the darkness between the many buildings.

Soon, the Inn was standing before him. A lame building, clearly on its last legs. Crumbling bricks looking like a hard wind would send the building crashing to the ground at Virgil's feet. He continued forward, his eyes on the inn at the town’s center and the man clinging to the eaves.

“Has my shadow finally returned to me?” a man standing beside the doorway of the inn called out, his face hidden in shadows. Virgil rolled his eyes at him as he stepped out into the light. Roman had been calling him his shadow since their first quest together, when Virgil had quite literally become Roman’s shadow to maintain the element of surprise over their enemies.

“I thought I told you that if you called me that again I’d throw your stuff in the nearest stream, shall I make good on my promise?” The threat was half-hearted at best and Virgil was smiling as he said it, enjoying their inside joke of three years. As he stepped into the soft glow of torchlight surrounding the inn he realised the friendly expression did nothing for Roman in the darkness he was just standing in. His fear evaporated as Roman stepped out of the shadows, bearing a smile as well.

“It’s good to see you, Ro.” The pair clasped hands in greeting. Virgil looked his friend over for signs of battle, checking to make sure he was alright. When the thief found none he stepped back, waiting for Roman to finish his more obvious examination.

“Well you’re late, so I can call you whatever I please,” Roman snarked, stepping back to lean against the wall of the inn. He was wearing his flashy white tunic with the gold accents. The golden buttons he bought on the last job, securing the blood red cape to his shoulders.

He was dressed up like a presenting peacock, the obvious outcast in a sea of dull peasant browns and greens. But after the many years of partnership with him, Virgil had given up trying to talk him out of it. “We’re supposed to meet the others inside at sundown. It’s almost a new day, Shadowling.”

Virgil’s hands shook and he smoothed down the cloak, feeling the worn black velvet on his fingers. “I got held up. Some bandits on the mountain ambushed me.” At Roman’s worried look, Virgil added, “They’ve been handled. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Roman frowned, irritation and worry in his eyes. Despite his best efforts to keep his partner calm, Virgil knew that Roman was constantly worried about him during their brief periods of separation. “I’m glad you made it here unscathed, Virgil.” Roman let out a deep breath before brightening. “Come on. As I said before, we’re very late.” He flicked his cape around him with a flourish before pushing open the door.

The bar was empty save for a few patrons scattered here and there. Most were slumped over cups of ale, snoring worse than Roman on a cold night. Despite the few patrons, it was loud and dirty inside. Virgil eyed the room with distaste.

“I see you still have poor taste in taverns,” He remarked, scrunching his nose as he maneuvered around the tables.

While Virgil had yet to meet his future companions face to face, he trusted Roman’s judgment and just looking around the room, he knew immediately who they were. There were only two men in the bar that Virgil deemed fit for travel, and Roman knew how shallow and picky Virgil could be when he wanted. He would only pick what he thought was best. Besides, he was allowed to be picky, he was one of seven Shadowdancers in the world. It’s not like you could hire one at the market. And if you could, you’d be poor from the effort.

The two men worthy of more than a half second glance were huddled in the far corner. Their table looked to be barely holding itself together but the position was the most defendable should someone attack the inn. The pair looked to be in deep in conversation, their heads bent towards each other as they spoke in hushed tones. The man on the left had cropped, brown hair and a tall stature from what he could see. He wore long, billowing robes of deep navy and light gray silks. Dusted over his cloak were words of power, scripted in what seemed to be golden thread. He held himself with confidence and power, his back straight and shoulders squared. He looked hesitant to touch anything besides his chair and the table.

Virgil rolled his eyes, A spoiled nobleman’s child out studying magic. Roman better know what he’s doing.

To the right of the magic user was a man in lightly glowing armor. His hair was a light brown, almost blonde that curled just past his ears. He seemed to cast a light over the dim bar both literally and figuratively, walking closer Virgil felt magic flow through him and was calmer if only for a moment. His sword glowed brighter than the light he already cast and Virgil decided it was some sort of godly light. Now that Virgil was closer he could see that the armor he wore was well kept yet lightly tarnished, as if it had seen recent battle.

He gestured wildly at his partner, his face animated despite his whispered tones. As they grew closer, Virgil heard this man frequently cut off the other in favor of his own voice. They approached quickly, moving through the maze of tables and the occasional bar maid or patron. By the time they got to the table, Virgil’s heart beat like a metronome to a ghost song. A deep pit was forming in his stomach and he wished he had talked to Roman more before walking in here.

Logan

There is no great genius without some touch of madness

-Aristotle

“How good can they be if they can’t even handle being punctual, Patton?” Logan whispered hotly, eyes scanning the bar on the first floor of the inn. The disgruntled bartender was washing the counters as he spoke to the patrons sitting up there with him. He all but ignored the pair of adventurers tucked away in the back corner, seated at a table riddled with scars and scrapes.

It was a sad inn. There were few customers and the furniture had clearly seen better days. The walls were littered with holes and deep gashes. And Logan firmly believed that the tables had to be imbued with some form of magic because they should have long since crumpled to nothing.

As a whole, Logan thought of Senrof as a pitiful town to stow away in, waiting for two people with no concept of time as it would seem. He was growing impatient, but Patton was hellbent on teaming up with whoever these people were.

“Well you never did like to give newcomers a chance Logan, but we really do need them. It’s getting more and more dangerous out there. The seem like good people, Logan. His partner’s even a dancer, Lo!”

“I hardly see the point of a dance-” Logan was cut off by Patton waving his arms to silence him.

“A Shadowdancer. Taught under she who walked through the shadow plane. The shadow plane, Logan!” Patton took a deep breath, his excitement practically vibrating through him, before he continued, smiling at Logan earnestly. “He’s a good kid and Roman’s a talented Bard. Handy with a longsword as well.” Logan sighed frustratedly. While an excellent partner with a moral compass so good it was almost uncanny, Patton was far too trusting.

These people could be good as Patton believes . Or they could be waiting to kill them and rob them blind for good measure. The latter seemed more likely to Logan than the former and he prefered himself alive, thank you very much.

After all, you can’t cast if you’re dead.

Logan forced himself to admit that they sounded good. However, he and Patton were better he was almost positive. More than good. He and Patton meshed in a way that was near indescribable. Logan had never felt this comfortable around someone else, and he certainly didn’t want two strangers coming in and ruining everything. They made an excellent team as they were.

“I’m just not sure, Patton. If it isn’t broken-”

“Break it.”

In front of them stood two men, the left-most having finished his statement, albeit incorrectly. They appeared to be adventurers, although one was dressed in a crisp white uniform, a golden circlet resting atop his golden hair while the other looked like he had been dragged by a horse down a hill, his cloak taking the brunt of the damage. It was fairly easy to deduce which man was the Shadowdancer and which the Bard. Logan was sure even Patton could tell, he could read people like the best clairvoyants and yet when it came to determining a person’s prefered fighting style, Patton always failed.

Patton stood, grinning from ear to ear as he walked around the table to shake both their hands. “Roman! And you must be, Virgil? Was it?” Patton hesitated on the other man’s name and could see him physically wince. Despite this, Roman nodded and Patton moved away from their table and shook both their hands, grabbing Roman by the forearm in a warriors grasp and then shaking Virgil’s hand as if he were made of glass.

Patton was always pulling things like this on Logan, inviting other adventurers to their table to share stories and regale each other with fantastic tales. Patton normally kept his group of the night up well after moonrise. It was perplexing the amount of energy he would have after a battle or an entire day of traveling. While Logan prefered to sit with a book and a tall glass of ale, Patton preferred company and wouldn’t hesitate to find it once Logan started ignoring him. This time however, Patton had agreed to travel with these new adventurers and while he loathed to be apart of a bigger group, he couldn’t deny that the shadowdancing assassin was intriguing.

“Let’s not hound them Patton, they must have come a long way. At least give them time to sit and grab drinks,” Logan kept his tone neutral, as if he didn’t care whether they joined or not. In all honesty, it wasn’t difficult to act as though he didn’t want them and he wasn’t so sure he was acting after a moment of thought.

“Thank you for offering, my friend.” Roman sat down at the table with a hearty thunk, making himself comfortable as he waved over the bartender. After a moment of hesitation, so did his partner. Unlike Roman who stood out like a sore thumb, Logan would have had trouble noticing Virgil if he wasn’t staring right at him.

Almost immediately Roman waved over the bartender and soon a pitcher and two glasses were sitting next to the ones Patton had ordered earlier.

“So, shall we talk about this new arrangement before we drink?” The assassin spoke without preamble, straight to the point. A personality trait Logan could appreciate.

Virgil leaned over the table, the wood creaking under his weight as he swirled his finger over the edge of his drinking glass. It created a small warbling noise, almost musical in the quiet bar. “I prefer to talk business before my partner here drinks himself under the table.” The words were stamped at the end with a mild glare towards said partner, already half a glass of ale into the evening.

“I agree.” Logan said, a brow creeping its way up onto his forehead before he could stop it. Their partner dynamic seemed… interesting to say the least. For one, they had obviously been partners for years. This was made clear by their friendly banter and overall comfortableness around each other. Roman was quite obviously the unspoken leader similar to how Logan was the unspoken strategist between Patton and himself.

What was unusual was how similar the partnership seemed to his own. Yes, they were an odd pair and yet so were he and Patton.

Granted he had only been around the pair for mere minutes and yet he saw himself in both of them just as easily as he saw Patton in the pair. He caught Patton’s eye and saw him staring back, a gleam in his eye as if they were thinking the same thing. Patton saw it too. Logan stared for a few minutes more, lost in thought until someone pointedly cleared their throat as if waiting for an answer to a question he never heard.

“Logan, are you even paying attention?” Patton was talking to him, poking him in the side till he glanced over.

“Yes, sorry.” Logan glanced up, nodding to both travelers. “Now, what was it we were discussing?”

Patton waved off his lapse and brought him up to speed. “We were discussing our strengths. Roman is proficient with a longsword and is capable of magic!” He bounced in his seat excitedly, the energy of ten men inside his body.

“Ah of course, you’re the bard yes? And your associate is the dancer, correct?” They both nodded although Logan did not miss the look of irritation that flashed across Virgil’s face at the word, ‘dancer’. “I’m a practicing mage although most of my powers go to evocation. However, I am also proficient with spells to aid my companions.”

Roman nodded, “Sounds similar to what I do for Virgil. He’s the fighter in our group. While I am proficient with the sword, I normally aid him with my magic.”

Virgil thwacked him in the head with his sleeve, a playful smile on his face. “You only aid me when you remember you have magic.” Turning to Logan, the smile fell off his face and he became more composed. “I fight in the shadows, Roman usually fights alongside me until he remembers he can use magic.”

Logan’s eyes widened in surprise. He looked over at the lithe and small frame of Virgil. Of course he was muscled, but he seemed far too fragile for a fighter.

But, even he was wrong sometimes. Looks can be deceiving, I suppose.

The rogue caught his eye and, seemingly reading his mind, narrowed his eyes in a challenge. Slow and purposeful, he reached for the hilt of his dagger and sank the blade into the table with a dull thud. It wasn’t deep, merely enough to keep the blade standing, but Logan heard the bartender make an affronted noise.

Both Roman and Patton made confused noises, unable to understand the power play. While excelling in certain areas, brains and strategy was neither’s forte. But virgil seemed to know what he was doing, knew what he needed to do to get what he wanted.

Another agile mind.

Interesting.

“I’ve been told you’ve had training with the assassin’s guild. You are remarkably small-built for a frequent combatant.” Logan spoke in a calm manner, his tone controlled, wanting to see how this played out.

“It doesn’t take much strength to use daggers. And an opponent with all the strength in the world means nothing if they can’t catch you.” His eyes twinkle in a way that makes Logan shift in his seat, silently reminding himself to never underestimate Virgil again. “Besides,” he continued, shifting to be more comfortable in the rickety wooden chair, “shadows don’t care if I’m not the strongest. Their skills are wit and stealth. I consider myself proficient in both of those. Understood?”

The pair held gazes for a moment. Virgil, to make sure he got his point across and Logan to make sure that while the battle was lost, the war was not.

“Of course.” Logan answered, tilting his head in a nod and breaking eye contact. He reached across the table, plucking the knife from the table and holding it in his hands to examine.

Logan didn’t know much of blades, but this one looked like a fine one. It made sense such a man would have a nice blade.

After a moment, he held the knife out, hilt first to Virgil, a sign of goodwill after such mind games. He knew they’d but heads in the future, but for now they could agree to a truce.

Virgil leaned back in his seat, twirling the blade with deadly precision before sliding it back in his holster. As he moved, Logan saw the outline of at least four more weapons on his person. Logan suspected he was wearing a bandolier, dozens of knives held to his chest.

Patton coughed to ease the tension, giving an easy if confused smile. “Well now that that’s… settled, how about discussing what we all came here for, yes? We didn’t come all the way here to talk, not that you aren’t lovely.” He and Roman share a laugh.

“Yes, I think now is a great time to start discussing important matters.” Roman sends Virgil a sharp look which the assassin steadfastly ignores. “While this has certainly been fun, I’m afraid that we don’t know how we’d work together as a team. Most jobs are dangerous. A single mistake could mean death or injury. How do we plan on being prepared?”

“My concerns exactly,” Logan agrees. Virgil looks at him in surprise but hides it before anyone else notices. “We cannot guarantee safety in such uncontrolled environments. A possible solution could be a simple mission with little fighting, but that could still end in injury.”

“Exactly! See, Roman? I’m not paranoid, I’m merely thinking ahead.”

Roman rolls his eyes. “Then what is your solution?” he asks, slamming back the remainder of his pint before refilling his glass.

Logan sighed, “If it fails then we go our separate ways, and we forget meeting each other.” He spoke the answer as if it was obvious and to him it was. Why would they continue as a party if a simple quest went awry. Patton, ever the cheery one, sat up straighter in his seat and leaned onto the table before speaking.

“Logan is just a pessimist, ignore him. A test run sounds like a swell idea and I’m sure it’ll go great. Right Lo?” The agreeing tone and the kick under the table had Logan nodding, if only to keep the peace. “Now that we have decided on where to go from here, how about dinner?” Patton waved over a waitress before anyone could protest and soon, their orders had been placed and Logan was once again sitting with his head in a book, ignoring the chattering of his newfound party.

The smell of warm food brought Logan’s nose away from the stiff pages of the book and he quietly put it away as the waitress slid platters onto their table. A large pitcher of ale and two platters of meat were accompanied by 4 wooden bowls filled with a strong smelling broth. Logan nodded at the barmaid in thanks, tossing her two silver pieces before grabbing a bowl. Other than the call for more ale from Patton, supper was a silent affair and afterwards, the party of four paid for the meal, and went outside towards the back of the inn to examine the quest board.

Like many towns, the quest board was right outside the inn, marked by a line of torches at the top of the wooden sign. However, unlike many towns, this board was thin for quests. Only three papers littered the massive board and none of them required the skill of four adventurers. Logan sighed, defeated if only for a moment. “Looks like no quests worthy of our attention. Of course we may do them for the gold they can bring us but it would be a better use of our time to travel elsewhere in search of a good trial quest.”

Patton gathered the papers regardless and nodded. “I agree with Logan. These papers detail ingredients that need to be gathered and children’s pets that have wandered.” he glanced at a child’s drawing of their own missing cat, carefully peeling it off the quest board, “I can deal with these at dawn, split the money four ways before we leave town. For now, I suggest we rent rooms and get some rest. It has been a tiresome day for us all and we must leave after breakfast tomorrow.” He looked at the pair next to him, a stern look set into his face, and waited for their nod of agreement before turning on his heel and walking back into the inn.

Logan fell in step behind the trio, looking back in disappointment at the board. One small close of the fist and the torches extinguished around the board, leaving a patch of darkness in the circle around the inn. He closed his fist entirely, nails digging into the flesh of his palm, and the area went dark entirely. The only light came from Patton as he led them back inside and up to the barkeep.

“I only got two rooms, double beds in em both.” the barkeep was talking to Patton already by the time Logan had stepped through the door. He sighed, watching as the barkeep handed over two small keys. His hands gestured upstairs with a dirty rag and then the foursome was upstairs, trotting down hallways to their rooms.

“So what did you think of them?” Patton was laying on his bed, having just finished his nightly prayers. His armor rested by the bed in a neat pile waiting to be polished and he had switched into a pair of cotton pants with a light blue tunic. He gazed over at Logan every so often, glancing at him before returning his eyes to the ceiling above him.

“They were certainly interesting. You have a knack for picking perplexing individuals, Patton..” Logan shuffled around, folding back his blankets and crawling into bed. Immediately his eyes shuffled closed and a wave of sleep crashed over him. He murmured a small good night to Patton and was then asleep.

Roman

“Where words fail, music speaks.”

-Hans Christian Anderson

Roman folded his clothes, making a small pile on the nightstand between the two beds. The moon was high in the sky, marking the late hour like a beacon and yet the pair were still awake. Virgil had already shucked off his clothes and was now pacing across the floorboards in a pair of linen pajamas, shirt flowing unbuttoned. Every so often he stopped to engage his partner and yet didn't bother trying to calm himself. Roman just started on, lazily strumming his lyre as Virgil attempted to saw a hole in the floor with an endless back and forth pattern as he walked. This had been going on almost an hour now, Roman’s eyes blurred from watching the motion.

“-and it’s everytime Ro! Why can you walk up to any random adventurer in a tavern and instantly have a seat with a pint of ale while I have to prove myself every damn time. I hate taverns.” He had been rambling nonstop since entering the room and Roman kept murmuring small remarks to keep Virgil under the belief he was listening. If he was honest with himself, Roman was just as angry. Yes, Virgil was a small, lithe body that hid in deep hooded cloaks for most of their friendship. It makes sense that people look at him without seeing the threat. However, Roman had watched Virgil throw daggers with deadly accuracy and seen him be swallowed whole by shadows, leaving no trace of where he is. He was powerful and yet his appearance masked any sign of strength. It worked for them in hostile situations but it was useless making allies.

“You can best five men in a fight without breaking a sweat. People’s first opinions may be wrong but their second is what matters most, Shadow.” Roman settled across the bed and turned to his partner. He plucked at the strings of his lyre, humming as he tuned the small instrument. “Now will you please settle? You’ll fall through the floor with all that pacing.”

Virgil collapsed onto the bed, it wobbling dangerously before settling against the floor. “It’s annoying, and frustrating. Not that you would know, Prince Perfect.” the name is a poor attempt at a jester to lighten the mood and Roman laughs if only to soothe his partner. It was true, while Virgil struggled at near every town, Roman could walk in anywhere and swindle a crowd to his side. They never took him seriously, but he had no problems making friends before traveling with Virgil.

“I have my own dealings, Shadow. Now try and rest. Tomorrow will be a new day and you’ll need your strength.” Roman strummed a soft and gentle rhythm, humming to the tune. It was melodic, calming for both. Instantly, Virgil’s eyes drooped down and he turned onto his side, grabbing the blanket to tug over his head.

For as long as they’d been partners, sleep was a rarity for Virgil. So for the better part of their friendship, Roman would make up nonsense chords to sway the shadowling into sleep. Sometimes he would sing lullabies and sometimes he would only have to hum for Virgil to fall prey to his tune. This was one of those nights, Virgil kicking off his boots and closing his eyes.

Roman continued his tune until Virgil’s chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, almost to the beat of the song. He gazed over at his companion, propping his lyre up by the nightstand between them.

It had been a long day. A long, difficult day for both him and Virgil. He would be branded a liar if he said the first meeting went well, Logan being an obvious problem for Virgil. Roman was unable to keep the peace between the two and as far as first meetings go, this one would unfortunately be considered an utter failure in his book. The team just didn’t click. He wasn’t sure they would ever be considered a decent team and the thought was...worrying to say the least.

Before long, Roman’s eyes grew heavy, exhaustion weighing him down like an anvil tied to his back. Shifting onto his side, Roman allowed his eyes to fall shut. His last thought before sleep overtook him was of the quest they would soon begin. Of course, he should have known sleep wouldn’t last long on nights like these.

He was stepping off a ledge, one foot impulsively moving off the side into the abyss below. The wind blew hard and fast, ripping at his clothes and hair. Fear rippled through his entire being and he could feel his heart beating like a tribal drum. The energy around the hole was dark, negative and ominous. He knew nothing good would come from stepping into the abyss in front of him. Yet he was halfway there already.

He could sense death and the image of a dark, almost black horse with a broken neck became all he could see. Like a terrifying play, the images pressed forward, showing him a broken party. His broken party. Roman surged forward, his weight toppling into the dark cavern below.

The felt like an eternity, but he could tell it only took mere minutes before he hit hard, on rocky ruins. Roman gasped for air, his lungs deflated after the impact stole his breath from his body. He lay prone, head barely lifted and saw chaos before him.

Virgil stood alone, betrayed by his own cloak which lay wrapped around his throat, throttling him. The thin fabric dragged him backwards with a choked scream followed by a sickening crack, 20 feet into the darkness. A silent scream ripped from his throat, helpless on the ground and unable to speak. On the floor Logan lay, moaning in agony with a bloody hole in his forearm. His eyes stared at the hole and back at his quarterstaff, broken in half at his feet. Patton stood with a smile yet his face was horribly marred, burns covering over half his face. Screams could be heard, echoing throughout the cavern and when Roman awoke he realized it was his own voice.

Gentle hands rested on his shoulders, a soft voice murmuring kind words to him. “Everything is okay, you’ll be fine Ro. It was just a dream. No one here is going to hurt you, not with me around.” Roman may be out of it, eyes unfocused and heart running a race it had long since lost, but he could recognize the voice of his shadow anywhere. It was as if someone had washed his body in cool water, a wave of calm rolling over him as he focused on the voice. Unshed tears blur his vision and he blinks them away, allowing the tears to trace their way down his face. Virgil’s profile appears above him, features sharpening as his eyes become tear free. Worry and concern flash through Virgil’s features and as he helps Roman sit up in his bed, his hands shake.

“I’m so sorry I woke you. It was but a dream, nothing harmful to us in the present.” His words rang true at least partially. No one can speak for the future.

“Bullshit Ro. I’m surprised the entire inn isn’t awake from the screaming. It was worse than the wail of a banshee.” he sits on the bed, fidgeting with the bedspread in an obvious show of restlessness. “It wasn’t a good thing to wake up to. It sounded like you were dying.”

Roman’s features softened, hand going up to Virgil’s shoulder in a sign of comfort. “I can assure you, I am quite alright, my Shadow. It was but a startling dream.” Which again, partially true on Roman’s part. He couldn’t bring himself to recount the dream to Virgil. The shadowling had enough trouble sleeping without any unnatural dreams. Besides, looking at Virgil, scanning his neck for any bruising and seeing none, he slowly realized he had nothing to fear. Everything was going to be okay. His shadowling was alright and so was he. Roman let his hand fall off of the other man’s shoulder, resting it atop his hand instead.

“Ro are you sure? You looked like you’d seen a ghost. Or worse.” He kept a grip on the palm of Roman’s hand, rubbing soothing circles into the flesh.

“I’m sure. It was just a strange dream. Nothing more, nothing less. I’m sorry for rousing you from sleep. I’m sure you’re exhausted.” The room was still dark and the sun had not yet risen. “Need me to play for you?”

Virgil gave a small chuckle, a smile across his face. “No need to worry about me, just get some sleep” his voice was like velvet, soft and gentle. It washed over Roman until the fear had gone and a wave of sleep fell over him. The dream loomed ominously over his head but at the moment, sleep was winning.

“Goodnight, V.” he murmured, clinging to the blankets with one hand, Virgil with the other.

The other man smiled, “Sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

The last thought Roman had before lady sleep dragged him away was of the smooth circular movement Virgil was rubbing his palm.

Patton

Strength does not come from physical capacity.

It comes from an indomitable will.

-Mahatma Gandhi

Patton rose with the morning sun, his eyes sliding open on instinct, as if he somehow knew a new day had arrived. Putting great effort in keeping his motions soft, he stood and stretched. Soft cracking noises could be heard throughout his body, weathered with age. It was the marks of battle making early appearances in his still youthful form.

His arms moved instinctively towards the tarnished breastplate laying neatly on top of his pack, almost urging him forward with the warmth it gave off in the otherwise cool and dark room. Picking up the piece, Patton made quick work of the worn leather straps and pins that kept his armor in place. The moment the last strap was secure against his body, heat poured off of him. It was a type of light his armor held from the day he first strapped the pieces onto his person. He never knew why it glowed and he dare not ask in his prayers, lest it be taken. After all, who is he to question the gods who so generously blessed him everyday?

The life of a paladin wasn’t ideal for most, but for Patton, it was the only suitable way to live. From a young age, the ideas of the gods had been drilled into his brain, and of how the forests and sun that blessed his town were all gifts from them. It was taught to never take those gifts lightly. . He had trained for years in an attempt to pay the gods back and the first day he strapped on his armor, he knew with the glow that every hard quest or difficult night he had worked paid off. The gods had shrouded him in golden light as thanks. Or at least that’s what he believed.

Now fully protected in his armor, Patton moved to the window and knelt, head hanging with eyes closed. Silently, he reflected on the day to come and thanked his gods for allowing the day to exist in the first place. Warmth began to seep into his skin, heating his body in a pleasant, kind way and he smirked. Everytime he prayed he felt what could only be described as sunshine flood into his body, proof the gods were at least happy with him.

A quick glance towards Logan showed him still sleeping, albeit fitfully. His blanket had long since been discarded and the clothes he had worn to bed were rumpled. Clicking his tongue as he observed his sleeping partner. Patton grabbed the blanket, now strewn half on the bed and half on the floor, and threw it over Logan. Satisfied with the room and himself, he stepped out into the hallway and started for the stairs, his armor clinking as he walked.

The inn was quiet, not a single person awake besides the bartender and himself. It was a strange sight witnessing a bar in dead silence and yet it was one he was familiar with. As long as he could remember, Patton was asleep before the moon and rises high into the night sky and was awake with the morning sun. The smell of eggs and sausages wafted into the air and he moved towards the counter, taking a seat and holding up a single finger, silently requesting a plate.

It arrives sooner than he expected, a metal pan heaping with eggs, potatoes and sausage along with a large glass of water. He gives a nod in thanks, a small, cheerful smile spreading on his face before he begins to scarf down the breakfast, burning his tongue as it slides down his throat. The food warms the inside of his stomach and he smiles at the feeling.

“Up quite early aren’t ya? I normally don’t see people down here till half past six.” A loud yet gentle voice brings him away from the still silence of the morning and Patton jerks his head up to stare the man in the face. The bartender’s eyebrow raises and Patton follows the curve of his brow up his forehead.

Patton paid no mind to the bartender, just shrugging to the comment and returning to his breakfast, When he was done he slid from the high stool and walked towards the exit, towards the quest board to see if any new ones appeared. None were displayed much to his disappointment and frustration, so he pulled the papers he collected from it the night before out of his pocket, unfolding their worn creases and reading their requests.

In every town, no matter what the quest, Patton always gave it at least an attempt. Not only did it allow him to serve the people of the town, it gave Logan time to rest as he rarely went on the quests with him without a reward or some danger. Fine by him, he was there for the adventure.

They weren’t anything exciting, mostly recovery of artifacts or cave exploration but he took what he could.These would at the least intrigue Logan who would see it as an easy exercise for this newfound team they had become a part of.

Upon closer inspection, the quests seemed to line up after one another, something no one noticed. Not even Logan. Patton moved to the floor, leaning against the wooden legs of the board for support as he spread the papers out in front of them. He couldn’t determine the order but he knew that they connected.

A heavy sigh caught his attention, he looked up to identify who it had come from to see a figure kneeling in front of him. The person was cloaked, the black of it seeming like a piece of the world was missing in front of his very eyes. Not even the light he had been gifted from the gods could penetrate the darkness in front of him. A nest of bonerats began their tumble through his stomach and he couldn’t shake his feeling of unease. Their face wasn’t visible, covered by a deep hood and from what he could tell, a half-mask across the person’s face. Patton stared down the figure, a hand instinctively moving towards the sword at his side.

“I see you are thinking of taking up on those quests.” The voice was deep, a light echo following after the sentence. It felt like the world around them shut off. The wind ceased to gust, the trees no longer made a noise, the sounds that came with the morning had ceased to exist. He looked around and saw nothing out of place, as if time had stopped. Serious magic was at work here and Patton stared back at the man with a small smile, deciding to keep talking and avoid a conflict until there was no other choice

“Uh.. yes. Me and the rest of my party are doing this as an easy exercise.” That sentence earned a hearty laugh from the person in front of him, laughing as if they were old friends sharing a joke.. “Easy. That must have been the funniest thing I have heard in years. Oh traveler, these quests are nothing to take lightly.” His fingers traced the papers as he spoke, stroking them fondly like you would a lover. Patton shifted where he sat, not able to look at the figure without feeling as if he were about to lose consciousness.

“They’re nothing but puzzles and caverns. I see no difficulty in these quests.” Patton’s features hardened and he stared down the hooded figure who merely snorted.

“These caverns are design to drive you to insanity should you take one step out of line. Even now, miles above the surface they plague members of your team and this town.” Patton opened his mouth to speak only to find silence, no words came from his mouth. The hooded man, at least he was sure it was a man, continued on. “You have to work together, to never part. It is all or none of you. There will be tragedies and falls, but you mustn’t let those stop you from adventuring into the caverns.”

Patton looked down at the papers to see them in a new order. Magically, they had shifted to the correct placement, each quest trailing into the next. The more he stared, the less they looked like individual pieces. He picked up the papers to see they had combined as one. Between his fingers were a crude map. The first one didn’t have a way to get into the cave, no way of getting in to start their journey. “How do we get in? How do I make sure we stay together? To make everyone get along?” Like firing arrows, the questions shot out of his mouth and he was grateful he could once again speak.

“You simply wait for the fall of course. It shall come before the days end. Unfortunately it is impossible to keep your team together in the dark. They’ll have to want allies in order for your team to not wither away at the edges.” He must’ve seen the confusion in Patton’s eyes for he continued, “Patience, dear Patton. You will find out in time it is more difficult underneath the surface.”

As Patton was about to ask what the last sentence meant, the figure stood and dusted off his clothes, the darkness rippling as his hands ghosted over the fabric.”Unfortunately, we are out of time. I can only be on this plane for so long before things get finicky although I’m sure you’ve noticed that.” A pocket watch appeared in his hand and he spun it, the hand moving faster than a hummingbird or an arrow. Just when he thought he would be sick staring at the whirling hand, it disappeared with a loud crack and with it, the man.

A weight came off Patton’s chest and he took large swallows of air, head moving around to see where he had gone.

The earth seemed to move again, slowly but surely it came back to life. It was no longer quiet. The wind began to blow again, almost knocking the paper out of his hand. The trees began to shake and the leaves fluttered in the breeze. Animals began shifting in the shadows of the forest on the outskirts of town. From the bar behind him he could hear the clattering of pots and pans. What just happened?

It was jostling, the sudden noise. It was never quiet for him, ever. When the man appeared it was as if time had stopped and nothing could move but them. Suddenly even the softest, ambient noises were too much for him.

“Patton!” A voice yelled, causing the one in question to flinch back in surprise, throwing his weight back into his hands. There they stood, the other members of his party. Each one wore concerned and worried looks on their faces. Logan was the closest to him, arms crossed. “Patton, are you alright?”

“I- I- uh…” He looked at the papers again, hands trembling. “Um…” He didn’t know what to say. How do you explain what he had just seen? “How’d you three know to find me, it’s barely dawn.” he musters out instead, distracting them if only for a moment.

The three moved forward till they stood around him in a neat semi-circle. “We were all walking out of our rooms to the quest board, we were hoping to find a better suited quest. Patton,” Logan’s voice is soothing on his thudding head, “what happened?” Logan had bent down, now face to face with Patton.

“It was a man, a creature. He gave me this, told me this was the quest we must begin.” He started, holding the crude map out for the three to see.

Logan took the map from his hands, passing it to Virgil before hauling Patton up by the arms. Patton yelped as he was moved before he stood and Logan was holding onto his shoulders, rubbing them in comfort for a moment before gripping them tight, pulling him so they were an elbow length apart.

“Tell me everything” He said, demanding and authoritative, the voice Logan typically reserved for battle. The lines of his face had become hardened, concern evident in his eyes. Patton took a deep breath and began retelling the story. It took only mere moments to explain what was going on but by the end each person looked concerned, fear underlying their entire conversation.

“...and then he pulled out a pocket watch, spun it and he disappeared. It was almost as if...” he trails off. Patton knows what he thinks and that is that. But he’s almost always wrong, especially when magic is considered. It’s impossible. No wizard has that power. Virgil moves suddenly, his face once appalled now questioning.

“You were frozen in time.” he looks down at the ground, holding something in his fist.

“Uhm...yes that’s what I was wondering. But isn’t it-”

“Impossible.” Logan finishes for him, looking sharply at both men. “No mage has that sort of power, time is a finicky subject that only the oracles can control. There hasn’t been an oracle capable of stopping time in millenia if even that.”

“It’s not impossible, just hasn’t been heard of in some time.” Virgil was tense, ridgid. He opened his fist, revealing a small medallion in his palm, raising it in an offering to Patton. “Does this look familiar to you?”

Patton takes the medallion, turning it over several times in his hand. It’s heavy for its size yet still relatively thin, almost as if it’s a coin. On what he would assume is the front of the “coin” is the pocket watch, impeccably detailed onto the metal. Upon closer inspection, the clock seems to move with each passing second, giving him the time. Fascinated, Patton flips the coin to the tail end, a small illustration of a hooded figure, shadows spilling from his hands staring back at him, the shadows swirling around on the coin. “That’s...it looks exactly like the watch I saw and minus the shadows, that’s the figure I saw.” He holds the coin back out to Virgil, slipping it back into his waiting palm. “Who is that?”

“That is the symbol of Skotos Sythos, patron God of assassins.”

#sanders sides fics #sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #tw: violence #tw: blood #tw: arguing #ts-storytime #2018 submission #Hannah's shitty writing #TS-Storytime 2018 Submission

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