#but those. well. everything is temporary all things end. i lost all my photos in 2017. i lived. besides most r still on my phone

[pussymasterdooku]

my beloved imac from 2014 with a cracked screen that i conned my dad into giving me so i had a computer on which to do stupid freelancer shit for him but use primarily for personal use (file storage, use appletv to play streaming sites on our actual tv, play sims) seems to be……engaging in behaviors that for lack of a better way to put this best resemble when my elderly cat started having seizures after a hard summer of kidney problems and we had to be like. oh it’s the end the end? obviously less emotional than that but. you know. she’s had a long good life and maybe it’s her time. that’s okay. all things end. anyway. all this to say we are trying to coax her into not just waking up again but pretty please just giving me two files that are the backbone of the recurring stupid freelancer shit i do every month. please baby i have hand problems i can’t build those templates again. please.………

[aki-draws-things]

Ron makes fun of him, but he's allowed, they flew together quite some times by then, he can have a little fun here and there. He knows he has a son, hell, ron always carried pics of baby jake as he grew up, he's very very proud of his boy! But somehow he missed the memo on the "Former navy" part, until they had a very bad emergency landing, the kind that his copilot seriously started praying because "no, captain, no way we land unscathed oh my god I never thought I would end up like that we're gonna crash there's something on fire and..."

"We're not in a flat spin, everything is... well, as good as it can be with one engine left okay?"

"A flat-- Captain! that's not a time for jokes crashing! we're about to crash and have god knows how many people there and--"

"Might be a bit bumpy, I give you that. I know, I'm rusty on this kind of landings but we're gonna be fine."

They're actually fine, his copilot is ghostly white.

"You were way too calm. we were about to die and you were like oh, it's a stroll in the park kind of calm."

"5 MIGs on our tail and I lived to see the next day, marry my husbands and get a kid. I'd say losing an engine heaven knows where and how was a walk in the park, all considered."

"5 WHAT I BEG YOUR FUCKING PARDON?!!?"

Tom calls him not long after the landing, no way something like that escapes him even if it's commercial flight. he checks on ron's flights, okay?

"Why did you lost an engine" "Yeah, about that great question, I'd like to know that too, you know? look, can you the Chrisy I'm gonna be late for dinner with the boys? we're currently stuck in the middle of nowhere waiting for someone to pick those poor souls and us and get us home. everyone's fine, by the way, a bit shaken but--"

"Captain Roland Kerner I thought flying commercial would be safer!"

"COMPACFLT Thomas Kazansky, so did I!"

His usual copilot retired soon after him, yeah, where else would he find someone like him? besides, he was going to retire soon anyway, he just anticipated it of a little.

The last flight is very emotional. He didn't expect all of them, his family and Javy? sure, but the rest of them?

"So, this time we're just going home, mh? For good?"

He shows up around Tom during meetings and things, but as fully civilian, just like Chris. Most people don't know he was a former pilot and even more a former RIO. Cyclone definitely didn't know, he was shocked a civilian knew so many things about jets, and even more about some of their missions and protocols.

Javy is extremely anxious when it's not his Super Hornet or Ron flying. Jake had to tell him, and even have papa confirm it on videocall to convince Javy to get on the plane without a panic attack.

He once tried to be a temporary WSO, with jake as his pilot, He trusts and loves Jake to death, but he's really that much anxious, he couldn't do it.

Jake quite unconsciously kept saying like "Hello. have a nice flight" to whoever was walking past him when they were seated.

"Wanted to become a flight attendant before enlisting?"

"Nah... but I've been put on a plane at 6 months old, I learned things. even had my little uniform."

Roo definitely didn't blush at how cute some photos of baby jake were.

MORE FLUFF!! (Oh, no worries, I'll return asking for angst soon too ❤️)

Rick said in an interview that in his mind, Ron switched to commercial flights. Well, Jake had the habit to try to fly with him, everytime he knows he's the pilot he just relax a little more. When he was really young one of the first time he jumped on the seat like "Papa?? Papa papa papaaaaa!!!" Very excited until Chris and/or tom took him to the cockpit after landing. (Baby Jake sitting in the pilot seat while Ron is copilot is Chris and Tom's favorite photo honestly . No wonder the kid chose to fly!)

Daggers don't know about that, cause he just goes by Ron, they don't immediately make the connection with slider. And then Jake saves mav and Roos. And he's like "this is ypu captain speaking". Tom does hear it, he just can't help the laughter, cause damn, that kid sounds like his papa so damn much, to the point he just borrowed what he says after every flight. He.cant wait to see Ron and tell him about that!!

I'm just so soooooft help!!

What alien are you and what have you done with the Phanie that likes to hurt them??? But I absolutely love this oh my god

I mixed this up and wrote baby Jake pov + older Jake

Jake is excited, his papa is flying! Fly fly fly.

Papa’s job is very exciting. Very important. Like tata’s. Or dada’s.

He loves to fly. Tata or Dada will hold him even though his ears hurt when they’re so high up. He loves watching out the windows.

The plane makes a thump sound showing it’s landed. “You wanna take Jakey or should I?”

Dada said Jakey! That’s Jake! “Dada! Papa! Papa! Papa!” Tata kisses his head and then tells dada to find papa.

Papa got lost?

Jake is in the air. They knock on a little door and then suddenly papa is there. Jake throws himself at papa. It’s been so long since he’s seen papa. He keeps throwing himself until papa takes him. Jake babbles that he loves papa and he colored lots and that he has a new favorite tv show.

“Talkative little thing we have huh?” Jake pats papa’s head. “Love.” Papa lights up. He kisses Jake’s head again. “Love you too Chickie.” Jake tucks his head under papa’s chin. Everything is right in the world.

——

Jake couldn’t believe he made it out of the mission. He drops out of his plane and races to his dads. So happy they all got to be there for him.

He slams into them so hard that the three of them stumble into them.

Ron kisses his head and ruffles his hair. “This is your savior speaking? Really Jakey?”

Jake blushes a little. “I thought it fit.” Chris let’s put a laugh, he pulls Jake closer. “You’re not wrong it did. It was insane Jake.” Tom nods. He kisses Jake’s head “stay safe kiddo.” Jake nods along to all of their advice.

Rooster slides up to them. “Sirs.” Jake smacks Bradley’s chest, “oh please they’re harmless.” Bradley stares at Jake. “That’s literally the compacflt and his wingman.” Jake shrugs “he also likes great British bake off. And papa likes sudokus”

Bradley stares at the three men. What the fuck?

“Jake?”

Jake only shrugs. He has no desire to be helpful. “We’re your captains speaking.” “He’s a pilot now oh my god. No wonder Mav couldn’t find anything past 2015” Ron laughs. “Yeah you’re not going to find much.” His dads float away to join in on more embarrassing conversations.

Bradley can only nod. He gently takes Jake’s hand. “I want to date you. Please.” Jake stares for a second. “You fucking with me Bradshaw”?”

Bradley laughs “only fuck I want is yours.”

Jake snorts. “Alright fly boy. Be good.”

He sees wolf and Holly of to the side. Never know when the other is lerking around things like this. They both give Jake a thumbs up though so he’s taking that as a good sign.

Guess time will tell.

[only-johnny-deppp]

“Whatever I’ve gone through, I’ve gone through. But, ultimately, this particular arena of my life has been so absurd...” 

 Johnny Depp’s NEW INTERVIEW!

Last saturday, August 14, The UK Times, released a new interview with Johnny for the Sunday Times section. It was realized sometime earlier this month, in London, probably on the same day he and Andrew Levitas were recording for the Q&A for the “Minamata” release in UK. This is Johnny’s first interview since the UK trials in London last year, and released three years after Johnny’s major interview for the British GQ Magazine. Here Johnny and Andrew Levitas speaks about “Minamata”, his future as actor and a thing or two about his personal life, although he cannot talk about the court case.

For those who couldn’t read yet, here is the FULL interview:  Enjoy.

***

“I’M BEING BOYCOTTED BY HOLLYWOOD”

Johnny Depp has a new film out this week. In the opening scene his character, the real-life photographer W Eugene Smith, says, “I’m done. I’m tired. My body is older than I am. I’m always in goddam pain. I can’t trust my f***ing dick any more. Constantly in a foul mood. Even the drugs bore me.”

I ask Depp if Smith’s despair resonated with him. Depp stops. Rocks back and forth. “That’s interesting,” he replies with painful hesitation.

“I didn’t approach playing Smith in that way… Although you bring your toolbox to work and use what is available. Having experienced...” He stops again. Depp takes any questions that might refer to his calamitous libel case last year slowly, in a mumbly, croaking drawl. “A surreal five years…”

In the film Smith needs to revive his reputation. In real life Depp’s task is even more daunting. Thanks to the judgment, everyone can call him a “wife-beater”. Now he must convince a Hollywood still convulsed by #MeToo that he’s not toxic — and that any attempt to rebuild his career is a risk worth taking. This is Depp’s first interview since the case.

We are speaking over Zoom, Depp in his London home, in front of a gold-framed painting. The 58-year-old is wearing a lot of clothes. Earrings. Floppy hat. Sunglasses. Bandana. Scarf. Checked shirt over a T-shirt with an indiscernible slogan. If you saw him on the Tube*, you might think he was off to work at the London Dungeon*, to play most of the characters.

PS. For those who are not familiar with British words: * Tube = British slang for London Underground, the subway trains. * London Dungeon = is a walk-through experience that recreates scenes from London's scary history in a mixture of live actors, special effects and rides.

Depp resumes, talking in broken sentences about the new film, Minamata, in which Smith, via Life magazine, exposes the brutal mercury poisoning of Japanese villagers in the early 1970s.

“How do we do this?” he asks rhetorically, meaning how to speak about the elephant in the Zoom. “Well, there’s no way one can’t recognise the absurdity of the mathematics.” He grins. “If you know what I mean?” No. “Absurdity of media mathematics.” He talks in riddles. “Whatever I’ve gone through, I’ve gone through. But, ultimately, this particular arena of my life has been so absurd...”

He trails off again. He is holding a big brown roll-up of some sort. “What the people in Minamata dealt with? People who suffered with Covid? A lot of people lost lives. Children sick...Ill. Ultimately, in answer to your question? Yeah, you use what you’ve got. But what I’ve been through? That’s like getting scratched by a kitten. Comparatively.”

Last July, I went to the High Court in London to watch Depp on another screen — a video from the socially distanced court where the Hollywood star was losing a libel action against The Sun after it called him a “wife-beater”. It was the grottiest showbiz trial of the century. There were photos of the actor passed out in a foetal slump, socks on show. One lengthy exchange involved faeces. Another urination, inside or outside a house, after a violent night with his ex-wife Amber Heard.

This had all been going on for a while. In 2016 Heard applied for a temporary restraining order against him. The couple had long endured a narcotic, booze-filled, childish relationship, but that does not matter — 12 incidents levelled against Depp were proved, said the judge, and abuse is abuse, regardless of how badly they both behaved. Depp wanted to appeal, but the court said no. Next April in the US he has a $50 million defamation case against Heard relating to an opinion piece she wrote about being the victim of domestic abuse. It may be his last roll of the dice.

In the 1990s Depp was a sensitive heart-throb. Cooler than DiCaprio, edgier than Pitt. In this past year he has been stripped of his status and dignity. On day three of the trial Sasha Wass QC, representing The Sun, asked Depp about daubing a penis on a painting. He could not remember. “That would be quite a big thing, painting a penis on a picture?”  Wass asked. “Quite a big thing?” Depp asked.

It was a well-delivered line, but Depp was on show. Performing. Now he is more timid, less lucid. His people say he cannot talk about the court case given the looming US trial, yet it hangs over everything. The director of Minamata, Andrew Levitas, is also on our call — as a pub trivia aside, Levitas is married to the Welsh singer Katherine Jenkins.

The two men clearly get on. “With regards to journalism, it was important for us to put across in the film the power of truth,” Levitas says. Depp nods. “The responsibility of journalists to look after citizens of the world. [Our film] coincided with the moment important publications had to put Raquel Welch on a cover to get enough eyeballs to sell enough ads in order to put something meaningful inside. A result of that is clickbait — it’s destroying the purpose of journalism,” Levitas continues.

“You said it beautifully,” says Depp, one of the world’s most pinned-up men, who built a career on magazine covers. “I couldn’t say it better than that.”

Last month Levitas wrote to MGM, which bought Minamata for the US market but decided not to release it. He accused MGM of being concerned that “the personal issues of an actor in the film could reflect negatively upon them”. Then the letter got really strong. Levitas accused MGM of failing in its “moral obligation” to release the film and said it needed to explain to the victims “why you think an actor’s personal life is more important than their dead children”. He then attached Smith’s photos of ghastly deformities that shocked the world 50 years ago.

“It’s important that the movie gets seen and supported,” Levitas says. “And if I get an inkling it’s not going to be, it’s my responsibility to say so. Where it goes from there? I don’t know. But we have responsibility to these victims . . .”

You can see why he’s passionate. The film is good. MGM bought the film because it is good. Depp is good too. He disappears into the role, far from his more recent pantomime parts. It’s being released worldwide, just not in the actor’s homeland.

Depp, who also produced the film, interrupts. “We looked these people in the eyeballs and promised we would not be exploitative. That the film would be respectful. I believe that we’ve kept our end of the bargain, but those who came in later should also maintain theirs.”

“Some films touch people,” he adds. “And this affects those in Minamata and people who experience similar things. And for anything…” He pauses, as he does. “For Hollywood’s boycott of, erm, me? One man, one actor in an unpleasant and messy situation, over the last number of years?” He trails off. “But, you know, I’m moving towards where I need to go to make all that…” Again, he trails off. “To bring things to light.”

The fact, as I think Depp knows, is that for his career, the court that matters is not one of law, but public opinion. On social media, where a lot of minds are made up, Depp’s good reputation will always outweigh the bad, thanks to his frequently blinkered fans.

Outside the High Court, as Heard arrived, I saw Natasha, 30, yell: “Get hit by a truck, Amber!” She is extreme, but the persistent way his fans demand that others think their idol is a saint shows a career revival will happen. After all, most filmgoers do not follow his private life at all. To them, he is Jack Sparrow, Edward Scissorhands. To them, he is a star — and a star can take an awful lot of heat before it burns out.

“They have always been my employers,” Depp says of his fans. “They are all our employers. They buy tickets, merchandise. They made all of those studios rich, but they forgot that a long time ago. I certainly haven’t. I’m proud of these people, because of what they are trying to say, which is the truth. The truth they’re trying to get out since it doesn’t in more mainstream publications. It’s a long road that sometimes gets clunky. Sometimes just plain stupid. But they stayed on the ride with me and it’s for them I will fight. Always, to the end. Whatever it may be.”

Depp will talk like this for ever — about his “truth”. Minamata is the last film Depp has listed on the industry site IMDb, where actors usually have half a dozen in development. So, yes, fans of the actor can see Depp in a new role now — it is a return, but is it a relaunch? The film was finished in 2019, way before last year’s court case. Is that it? His last film? He thinks and looks off to his bookshelves, at biographies of Betjeman and Olivier.

“Er...no,” he says, eventually. “No. No. Actually, I look forward to the next few films I make to be my first films, in a way. Because once you’ve...Well, look. The way they wrote it in The Wizard of Oz is that when you see behind the curtain, it’s not him. When you see behind the curtain, there’s a whole lot of motherf***ers squished into one spot. All praying that you don’t look at them. And notice them.”

I would ask him to explain, but I am not sure he is an explainer. Watch this space, I guess, but he is already taking a first step back. After we speak, it is announced Depp is getting the coveted Donostia award at the San Sebastian Film Festival next month. Some people are just too famous to fail.

~ Interview by Jonathan Dean, in London, for The Times UK (released on August 14, 2021)

[sidespromptblog]

What to Do?: Chapter 8

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Nine, Ten

Warnings: Patton Angst, and food mention. 

Summary: Logan realizing that his first mistake was seeing the other sides as anything other than coworkers. They weren't a family. They didn't even like each other. How had he not realized sooner?

Word Count: 1,657

Patton sat hunched on the floor in front of the oven, watching as the cookies he was baking slowly rose as they were cooked right before his eyes. Behind him another bowl of cookie batter sat, waiting for the very same thing. And in the fridge there were already cookies cooling down, and still his fingers itched to do something.. anything really that would help keep his mind away from what had made it most sad to begin with.  He didn’t want to think about this, any of it really. He just wanted to stay focused on the things that made him happy, and the things that made the others happy too. 

If Logan saw him like this he’s-

No. 

Patton stubbornly shook his head, as his heart plummeted at the thought of Logan and just what Logan would think if he saw him like this… if he saw him pushing down his negative emotions in favor of the good ones. They had already talked about this, they had already come to the conclusion that Patton still didn’t want to face even right now. It was better this way, he had told himself. Someone had to be happy around here, even if he was just pretending. He’d cried enough for all of them, and now it was time to get over that and move onto being happy again. It was better than seeing Roman slowly sink into self-despair like he had been when he had accepted Janus, and it was better than seeing Virgil slowly grow more and more anxious over time with no way to stop it. He had to do this, for all of them. 

Even if Logan…

Patton felt his eyes mist over in a second, before he stubbornly rubbed his sleeve over his eyes. 

“I’m fine,” He listlessly muttered to himself, keeping his eyes firmly fixed onto the cookies. “I’m fine…” 

“Tsk.” 

Patton flinched with his whole body, as his head snapped around in an instant to look at the side who was standing there at the entrance of the kitchen. His mouth twisted into a tiny half smile, that he honestly didn’t even feel like giving. But be that as it may, it still felt just the slightest bit nice to see the side in front of him, like he wasn’t totally alone and surrounded by sad people who had no idea what to do.

Janus smiled down at Patton, the kind of smile that made the scales on the side of his face shimmer in the warm lighting of the kitchen. “I thought lying was my thing,” The dishonest side began, as he crouched down to Patton’s level, so that he could look at him just a little bit closer. “Right?” He asked, reaching forward slowly to dust a chunk of flower from Patton’s cheek. 

The soft scrap of the glove against his cheek made Patton sigh for a short second, it had been too long since he’d had any kind of bodily contact. There had been no hugs, no hand holding, and no… late night movie sessions where they all piled on top of one another. So just this tiny hint of contact made him want to melt into Janus, and never let the other side leave.

“Yeah.. yeah it usually is.” He finally whispered, sadness clinging to every pore of his body. “But right now I think it’s necessary…” 

I need it… 

The words were left unspoken, and yet Janus heard it all the same as he seated himself more comfortably on the cold floor. The oven let off a wave of warmth that he was secretly very thankful for, and with little opposition Janus lifted the edge of his caplet letting it drape over Patton’s shoulders as well. For a moment he could only watch as the moral side sank gratefully into it, his eyes closing as his cheek squished against Janus’ shoulder. Janus didn’t say it, but… 

Patton looked exhausted. 

To the point where he was sure that the other side would all too easily fall asleep right here if Janus didn’t move or say anything, and god knew he was not the most comfortable person to fall asleep on. But despite how the words he wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue, Janus didn’t say a word, instead choosing to wrap his arm around Patton letting the other side use his lap as a pillow as he sprawled himself out on the floor. Shrugging off his caplet, and with the warmth of the oven on his back it was all too easy for him to cover the moral side with it, letting him have this one solitary comfort.  

If only for a little while, at least. 

“Janus?” Patton asked softly, startling the other side from his almost nap that he had been nodding off into. “Do you think Logan is lying to himself? When.. when he’s acting this way?” 

For a moment Janus was stumped on just how to answer the moral side, he knew that perhaps it would make Patton feel better if he lied to him, but for how long? If he thought that this whole thing was temporary then.. then all he would be doing was giving him empty hope that perhaps things would end up changing. That would be more hurtful in the long run, and… and Patton would eventually find out that he had lied, and would be hurt even more by Janus’ own actions. He wouldn’t trust him if he lied about this, because he cared about Logan, even if Logan was trying to act like he didn’t care about them. 

He sighed, and felt Patton’s head twitch on his lap. “I think…” He slowly began, trying to phrase it right, “That Logan truly believes that this is the best path for him, so he’s determined to see it through. But… he’s also certain that should it come down to it, none of you would listen to him if he stopped. He thinks in a certain way that..  that you all hate him.”

Patton moved to jerk his entire body up, a denial on his lips. Just to stop as soon as Janus gently guided him back down. 

“I’m not done,” The dishonest side said firmly but gently, “He still cares about all of you I think, but he’s not going to give himself the chance to ever come back. He’s burning down as many bridges as he can, and as quickly as he can before he changes his mind and wants to repair things with all of you.” Janus can feel another sigh building up inside of him. “But I also think that all of you are in denial as well…” At Patton’s curious and worried look Janus slowly went on, trying to be as gentle as possible about it. “About how you’ve all treated him, and I think that you’re all lying to yourselves about the part that you’ve played in this coming to be.” 

Patton is quick to open his mouth to disagree, he wants to disagree with almost everything that Janus has said about them doing anything to bring this on. As far as he was aware he had always treated Logan the best that he possibly could, and while it was true that he had floundered sometimes and gotten lost in himself… he’d done his best. 

Hadn’t he? 

Looking at the family pictures he could see hanging on the walls from where he was sitting, his stomach plummeted in an instant as guilt quickly replaced the sadness he had been feeling mere moments ago. Logan was there in each and everyone of the photos, but he was in the back, where Roman, Virgil, and even Patton had taken up most of the frame. It had left Logan looking almost out of place in the pictures, as if.. As if he didn’t belong there with any of them. Looking at those pictures now, where he had once felt nothing but happiness and pride towards his family, he now felt as if he had failed Logan in every single one of them in every single kind of way that a friend shouldn’t have. 

After everything that had happened… 

They had been anything but a family to Logan, and Logan deserved to distance himself from that kind of “love”. 

Because he deserves better than that. 

“Janus?” Patton asked for a moment, looking over to the side in question to see that he was fully paying attention to Patton. “What should we do?” 

That was the kicker wasn’t it? 

What should they do? 

It was clear that Logan was going to be resilient against any of their advances to fix things, as the logical side was determined to think that things would go back to the way they were before if he slipped up even once. And he was only going to double down too, if they did get him to slip up and treat them as they had been in the past, which would only draw things out for longer and make things harder on themselves. So there was very little that they actually could do to actually fix things, surprisingly Logan had made it so that the entire ball game was in his court and they couldn't make a single move to change the tides.   

He would make an excellent chess player, Janus fondly thought to himself. 

“Slowly,” He finally summarized, as the plan mapped itself out in his head. “So slowly that it feels like nothing is changing, you have to play Logan’s game if you want him to even entertain yours. If you want things to go back to normal, this has to be the new normal for a while. Let him slip up, and let him try to come back, and when that happens…” Janus smiled a little, as he looped his arm around Patton. 

“You’ll have Logan, and not Logic.”

[xwing-baby]

Impulse: Aftermath (Javier Peña x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. The worst as happened, your dead. What have you left behind?

Warnings: ANGST! depressive thinking/intrusive thoughts, swearing, discrimination towards addicts, mentions of drug abuse, javi and steve have terrible coping mechanisms.

Word count: 2k (short and sweet)

A/n: So I felt bad about how I left it last chapter, maybe this will heal it? Maybe it will make it worse. Either way, enjoy! 

Part 1 // Part 2 

[1 MONTH AFTER]

 The following weeks after your death was harrowing for everyone involved. Connie was beside herself and flew herself home for a week as she couldn’t stand seeing your empty apartment every day. Without his wife, Steve was falling apart at the seams. He was angrier, drinking more and his relationship with Javier was hanging on threads. Even when Connie returned he was unhinged. Javier was a mess, more than he would openly admit, it was obvious to everyone around him. He tried to find solace in alcohol and women but it didn’t work. Guilt surrounded him like a bad smell that he couldn’t shake. Together, Javi and Steve were reckless and ruthless.

The question of who killed you was still a mystery. The getaway vehicle had been found in Bogata a few days after the shooting, ablaze. Javi and Steve had waited for somebody to claim the killing but no one ever did. Cali and Escobar, even Los Pepes never said a word. Javier had tried to find your CI but they’d disappeared too. 

As with any death of an agent in the field, the DEA intended to investigate your death. Today was the day that Javier was to hear the verdict. He was anxious, he knew they needed help if they were ever going to catch your killer and this could be the final push needed to topple Escobar’s power. 

Alone, Javier drove to the embassy dressed in a nice suit and tie. He was hopeful, almost excited. If this meeting went the way he was expecting you would get the vengeance you deserved and this hell could be over. 

He entered the meeting room confidently but almost immediately stumbled when only one man stood in the room. Ambassador Crosby stood at the top of the large table, he greeted Javier politely when he arrived and offered him a chair opposite. Confused, Javier sat down.

“I’m going to cut the crap with you, Peña. We are not investigating Agent L/n’s death,” The Ambassador said bluntly. Javier’s stomach twisted, “I’ve been talking with everybody that needs to be involved and we all agree. She admitted her drug use to me, her death was entirely so a result of her ‘extracurricular activities’. I see no reason to use any more of the agency's funds on a rookie who went off the rails,” The Ambassador lit a cigarette nonchalantly as if he hadn’t just dealt Javier a nearly fatal blow. Javier had never imagined that to even be a possibility. He was in shock.

“You’re joking,” Javier deadpanned. 

“I understand you’re upset, Peña, I do. She was a sweet girl, and from what I gather from Agent Murphy’s report you two were very close, but I see no reason to investigate further. She wasn’t a qualified agent we hold no loyalty to our usual promises,” 

“She deserves-,” Javier started, rage quickly boiling inside him.

“She doesn’t deserve anything,” He interrupted Javier sharply, “She was an addict. You should count yourself lucky I don’t have you fired. You knew she was breaking her contract and you said nothing,” 

“She was doing her job. She was a great agent and this never should have fucking happened. She deserves everything Camarera got and more!” Javier exclaimed. 

“You’re right it shouldn’t have happened. You were her mentor, you were supposed to be protecting her from exactly that kind of shit. She was never meant to leave your fucking side, what in the hell possessed you to think she could have a CI?” 

“She was a good agent,” Javier repeated, trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

“She was a kid,” The ambassador corrected him. Javier hung his head in defeat, “Get out, expect a call from DC too,” 

As if this waking nightmare you had left behind you could get any worse, now this. It was another blow to Javier's ego that he did not need. Without help from the agency, there would be no way to investigate your death and no way for any substantial closure for Javier or Steve. You would become just another name on the list of unfortunate souls lost to this drug war. They had dismissed you as if you were nobody. They had cleaned their hands of your blood without a second thought. That was not a luxury that Javier had. 

Javier was exhausted. The news felt like the final blow that had finally landed him on his ass. But he knew had one last thing to do before he could sleep, he had to tell Steve the news. Javier let himself into Connie and Steve’s apartment, the two were eating dinner together quietly. Without a word, he sat down at the table, and Connie passed the man a beer, which he took and swallowed down gladly.

“So? What did they say?” Steve asked, his mouth full of food.

“They said they wouldn’t investigate further because of everything that she was doing,” He replied after a moment 

“Shit,” Connie sighed, taking a big sip of wine. Steve looked between his wife and his friend, put his cutlery down and frowned.

“What do you mean everything she was doing?” Steve asked, “She was working with us, she wasn’t doing anything wrong,”

“She was doing coke, a lot of it,” Javier said bluntly, finding no other way to soften what had happened, “Guess she got it from her CI, I don’t know but she tried to fix it with the ambassador before she died and now they won’t investigate,”

“What?” Steve laughed in disbelief. Javier’s frown didn’t break, He turned to his wife expecting her to be just as shocked. She wasn’t at all. She knew, “How come you know about this and I don’t?” Steve exclaimed.

“She showed up on the street after Javi caught her at the embassy and I took care of her, made sure she was okay. She told me everything,” Connie explained.

“At the embassy?” Steve repeated, not believing a word he was hearing. He knew something was up with you but he hadn’t imagined it could be that bad, “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I thought you knew and just didn’t want to talk about it!” Connie exclaimed, “I thought you guys would have taken a bit more care with your teammate!”

“Hey don’t put it back at me!” Javi scowled at the woman.

“That's why you were so mad that day? Because you caught her with cocaine?” Steve asked, his volume increasing with each question, “Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I didn’t think it was any of your business,”

“Any of my- You’re fucking unbelievable Javi,” Steve scoffed, “Been here how long and you still don’t trust me?”

“I trusted her enough to sort it out herself. You would have freaked her out!” Javier said honestly.

“Look at all the good that did, huh? You got her killed! May as well have shot her yourself!” The words hit Javier like a slap in the face. Shocked, Javi couldn’t speak.

“Steve!” Connie exclaimed.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” Steve spat, stepping up to Javi. Javi quickly backed off, glaring at his partner and leaving, slamming the door for good measure.

In the hallway, Steve and Connie’s argument could still be heard. Javier’s anger was stopped by the sight of your door across the hallway. Someone else had moved in already. The door had been repainted, the chipped blue paint replaced with a glossy green, the number had been straightened and the smiley face sticker you put on had been peeled off. The world was moving on. You were just a passing character, never meant to stay long. You would have left eventually even if you hadn’t died. You were never meant to be permanent. Javi hoped the pain you had left him would be just as temporary but it was likely scars would remain.

He couldn’t repaint over memories of you. The scuff marks on his dashboard from your shoes would remain. The chipped mug you had claimed as yours would still sit on his draining board. Shaky polaroid photos he had kept from blurry nights in bars and a cartoon you had drawn of him and Steve on the back of an invoice all sat in the drawer of his nightstand. Those things would last. Part of him wanted to get rid of it all, burn it to remove you entirely from his life and pretend like it was all some horrible, strange dream. But he wouldn’t. You may have been temporary but your impact on him was permanent.

--

The next day Javier kept well away from Steve. He knew he would still be resentful, rightfully so, and he knew him well enough to know to just give him some space. They could get on with things separately until it blew over.

The news that the DEA would not be making a full investigation into your death had spread quickly and calmed tensions around the compound and in the embassy immensely. The Columbians didn’t want more American’s down here if it could be helped, everyone remembered the brutality of Camerana’s investigation and if a repetition of such events could be avoided it was a win for everyone.

Midday came and Javi took a break from hunting through seemingly endless transcriptions of taped conversations to sit outside in the sun. Guilt was piling up again with Steve against him too, he only felt worse. He couldn’t concentrate. Between his thoughts and the constant interruption of people trying to be sympathetic, Javi had had enough. He wanted to be alone.  A few minutes in the sunshine with a cigarette and birdsong would clear his head and he could be useful again.

Javier sat in the courtyard, looking out onto the training grounds and watched the recruits struggle under their training officers barking orders. He took off his jacket, letting his skin take in the early summer rays. On the way to being relaxed, Javier felt content. He didn’t think of you or Steve or anything other than the way the rays heated his skin and how the grass felt under his palm.

“Mind if I join?” Steve interrupted Javier’s moment. He too needed a quiet moment and while he was not completely over his friend’s concealment of the truth he didn’t want to struggle through the new emotions without him. Javier shrugged and moved his jacket to let his friend sit next to him. “Nice day,” He commented, not sure what to say. They hadn’t spoken at all since last night, avoiding each other like the plague. Javi grunted in response, taking a drag of his cigarette again.

The tension between the two men settled, they needed each other to get through this, even if they wouldn’t admit it out loud.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you man,” Javier finally spoke, breaking the silence. Steve was relieved he didn’t have to be the one to apologise first.

“It all happened kind of fast, I get it,” Steve replied, “She always was so efficient with things,” He chuckled. It was dark but the joke broke Javier’s frown.

“Bet Carrillo’s glad he doesn’t have her nagging at him all the time now,” Javi added. Steve chuckled and nodded in agreement.

“It’s going to be nice without their constant bitchin’,'' Steve smiled, he paused for a moment. “It’s gonna be quiet,” he added sadly.

The two fell silent again. He was right, everything was going to be quieter without you. Whether it was shouting at Carrillo for being an asshole, or singing along to the radio loudly while you're full of adrenaline after a chase, or even just your constant tapping and fidgeting. Life was going to be quieter without you.

“Ey! Peña! Murphy! Vamos, we’re going!” Carrillo’s voice called them back to reality.

The war wasn’t stopping for anyone, your death was just one of the thousands that had already been claimed by it. They would miss you, but both men knew they couldn’t let your short time with them hold them back. They would always carry you with them and their final win, when Escobar was dead, would be yours too.

NEXT PART

--

did that make it worse? did that make it better? 

want to get tagged in the next part? let me know

tag list:  @beskar-tano @buckysbeloved @beskarbabs @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @this-cat-is-dea @themidnightsun-12 @wille-zarr @danniburgh​ @itsaisopodkillmepls​ @urbankaite2​ @whataloadofmalarkey​ @ahsofka @yeetus-my-feetus​ @sara-alonso​ @lesbianlena​ @xiao-lusi​ @all-good-things-have-an-ending​ 

[msyuksanh]

“The Brush” | Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Just a bit of a silly story set within the events of episode 3, so there are minor spoilers ahead if you’ve not reached that part of the game!

Summary Ruggie has some tasks for you and Grim to do. One of which involves braiding a certain irritable lion’s hair...

Rating: G Characters: Leona, Ruggie, Grim Location: Leona’s Room

---------

“Before we go for breakfast we need to do a couple of things first,” stated Ruggie standing before you with his hands on his hips.

You and Grim were dressed and ready for the day while Leona was just about coming into the land of the living. He lazily slipped on his orange waistcoat over his white shirt.

“We’re not your slaves.” retorted Grim.

You elbowed him gently to remind him they were doing you guys a favor letting you stay at the Savanaclaw Dorm, or more specifically Leona’s room. Also, not forgetting that in return for their kindness you guys were the new temporary servants.

“What would you like us to do?” you asked with a bright smile trying to make up for Grim’s remark.

“We just need to collect some clothes for laundry, and one of you will need to braid Leona’s hair.”

The was a short silence as you and Grim exchanged a look.

At this point Leona was still fixing his uniform and putting on accessories, seemingly completely oblivious to what was just said.

“As much as I would like to try not to rip out that guy’s hair I don’t have opposable thumbs so good luck,” Grim held up his paws and shrugged. He patted you on the shoulder before flying over to Ruggie who had been piling up Leona’s clothes in a weave basket.

An “Ah-” escaped you as your hand stretched out in Grim’s direction.

“Leona! Don’t go back to sleep!” Ruggie tutted and sighed, putting down the basket and pulling his prefect up into a sitting position. When did he go back to sleep!?

Leona growled. “What’s 5 more minutes? It’s not gonna kill anyone,” he grumbled, to which Ruggie rolled his eyes.

“We’ll be back in about 10 minutes. Come on Grim, I’ll show you the laundry room.” Ruggie strolled out with his hands clasped behind his head.

“Hey, you! Why am I the one carrying this heavy basket?!” yelled Grim as he struggled to keep afloat in the air while trying to follow Ruggie’s quickly disappearing form.

Now with them gone uncomfortable silence fell in the room. Leona sat on the edge of his bed, hunched over with his elbows on his knees and smartphone in hand.

You let out a quick sigh but found your energy after a deep breath.

“Okay, let’s get started shall we?” you said with another bright smile.

You walked towards Leona who strangely straightened up obediently and turned the screen off on his phone.

“So…is there a special style you have for your braids?” you inquired as you leant over him to inspect his luscious dark brown locks. His twitching ears sparked a curiosity in you. How you desired to just reach out and touch them!

“No.” he replied bluntly.

“Does Ruggie do anything special or-?”

“Hurry up and get on with it,” he growled out. The King of Beasts closed his eyes with what you assumed to be annoyance.

“Okay.” Your face and shoulders dropped indicating your motivation slowly leaving you.

You understood Leona wasn’t exactly in the mood for small talk. Then again, when ever was he?

You positioned yourself to his side, picked up a good amount of hair and tentatively dragged your fingers through it.

Leona was back on his phone endlessly scrolling from the fast motion of his thumb swiping up and down the screen.

“Hold on a minute,” you mumbled. You crawled on your knees onto his bed and appeared at height behind him bringing all his hair to the back. You tried combing through it all with your fingers again but found it difficult with the tangles and knots.

You got off the bed abruptly, now filled with a burst of excitement. After rummaging through your belongings you returned back to the bed with a hair brush in hand. Luckily you’d cleaned it!

“What’s taking so long!?” Leona only saw you bolt across the room and back from the corner of his eye. One thing he knew for sure was this was taking too long and he was going to murder someone if he didn’t get any food soon.

“I’ll be done in two minutes, don’t worry!” you exclaimed happily.

“Make it one,” was his irritated response.

Upon hearing his words you started brushing out the ends of his wavy hair quickly and gradually worked your way up. You got to the top of his head and made sure to be careful brushing around his ears. They twitched when the brush was near and Leona’s tail swished in a carefree manner, hitting your body and arms softly at times. How you wanted to touch that too!

Were your ears deceiving you? You swore you could have heard a small purr come from the Savanaclaw Dorm Leader.

Gasping at how smooth his hair had become you grinned seeing your fingers run so effortlessly through.

“Okay, braid time.” You left the hair brush on the edge of the bed and moved from behind him to his side with one foot planted on the floor and your other knee still on the bed. You stood tall so you had better height to do your work.

Slowly but surely you finished the first braid and felt proud of the end product. It didn’t turn out too bad between the nerves of touching a stranger’s hair and being so close to someone with such a strong personality.

All of a sudden you heard a clatter. Puzzled, you looked down to see Leona’s phone had fallen out of his hand. What?

As if in slow motion you saw him about to fall forward. Was he asleep!?

“No-n-no-no-!” You swung your arms around his wide shoulders in a panic and threw all your strength against him to stop him falling. Thank goodness your foot was on the floor otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to hold him back. And you knew he was more than likely going to fly into a blinding rage and kick you and Grim out if he had found himself woken up by faceplanting his own bedroom floor.

His head fell toward you and rested on your chest. His breathing was deep.

Oh, my goodness.

The panic set in wondering if Ruggie and Grim were to come back at any second. What would they say if they saw you both like this right now!?

“Hey, Leona, it’s time to wake up…!” You sang shakily, gently jostling him.

Nothing. You sighed forcibly. ‘Okay, let’s try something different.’

You sunk down onto your knee on the bed so you were at least able to see his face properly. In doing so Leona’s head fell into the crook of your neck.

Oh, my goodness(!)

Your eyes widened in shock. In that split second you felt his breath on your neck shivers ran up and down your back, but you swiftly shook your head to get rid of any strange thoughts.

“Leona! Hey!” You were confident he wasn’t going to fall forward anymore with his weight somewhat balanced by your arm around the back of him. You cautiously took your arm from across his chest and pulled his head away by cupping his jaw.

“Hello!? Please wake up(!)”

Nothing. You closed your eyes and pointed your face to the ceiling feeling everything you was doing was pointless.

Of course, the cruel hand of fate decided to deal you another card of misfortune right there and then, didn’t it? Of course your arm, the one essentially supporting his entire weight, gave out and you both fell backwards onto the bed.

Uh-oh.

As luck would have it you were stuck.

“Leona(!) Wake up! Why do you like sleeping so much!?” You questioned with exasperation in your voice.

You tried pulling your arm out from underneath his back but to no avail.

Feeling a mixture of annoyance, desperation and dread, you decided to just give in and wait for Ruggie to find you.

You facepalmed so hard you could cry. ’All I had was one job’

Why were things always happening to you? You couldn’t go one day, it seemed, without some kind of crazy event involving you and Grim. Not to mention this insane contract you believed you could fulfill to free Deuce, Ace and the other students trapped under Azul’s unique magic. But, how else were they going to get free? Who else was going to help them? Even if you had no magic, and you didn’t really know who you were or where you came from, you felt such a pull to help those in need.

Wow. Thinking about your friends really helped calm you down.

You turned your head to find Leona’s sleeping face in your direction. You paused. If it hadn’t have been for this pampered, arrogant lion-man and his straight-laced wolf and snarky hyena, you’d be god knows where. Your eyes roamed over his features taking them in slowly. You’d never seen him up close like this before.

Long eyelashes, sharp nose, lips always seemingly set in a frown, but luckily not right now. Your eyes wandered to his scar and you grew curious about its origins. His hair framed his face so well anyone would fall for him.

He was so stoic, so strong, ego the size of a galaxy, and yet in this very moment he was so gentle...

Leona’s eyes fluttered half-open and you held your breath. What would he think about this situation? How would he react!?

You couldn’t tell if his emerald eyes had focused enough to catch you staring back at him. Was he going to yell? Would he think you did something weird to him?

The answer was no. He went back to sleep.

You laughed suddenly finding the situation incredibly absurd yet hopelessly entertaining.

“What are you doing?” asked Ruggie from the door.

Relief washed over you and you’d never been happier to see the young hyena. “Oh, thank goodness you’re back!”

“What happened?” questioned Grim as he flew into the room. He gasped loudly.

“I’m stuck” You waved your free arm about to show the predicament you were in.

“How did this even happen?” Grim flew around checking you guys out. Ruggie laughed his signature snicker as he pulled his phone out to snap a million photos.

“The great Grim will get you out!” The furry demon grabbed your free arm and started pulling.

“No, Grim-wait-ow-ow-ow!” You cried in pain.

Ruggie lost himself to his laughter but never missed a beat with his photo-taking.

Grim gave up when he realized he couldn’t actually pull you out. You directed a death glare at him.

Ruggie’s laughter subsided and he wiped the tears out of his eyes. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from the Ramshackle Dorm even if I tried”.

“Can you just get him up, please?” You pleaded.

“Alright. Leona!! Wake up now!” Ruggie sighed, grabbed Leona’s wrists and pulled him up into a sitting position; the same move he’d made before.

Leona stretched his arms above his head and let out a long, hard yawn. “Why is everyone so loud!? You’d think I could get 5 more damned minutes of sleep”. He stood up and twisted at the waist working out the cracks in his back. You quickly followed suit getting up off the bed as you rubbed your slightly numb arm. Leona didn’t even seem to notice you were on his bed let alone him crushing a precious limb of yours.

“So, what happened? All you had to do was braid his hair... Was that too hard a task?” asked Ruggie condescendingly.

You ignored his patronising question.

“Well, I managed to get one braid done”, you professed kinda proudly, “but I decided to detangle his hair because, you know, I wouldn’t want to hurt him while braiding so I got my hair brush-“

Ruggie sharply inhaled.

At this moment Leona had wandered out onto the balcony, presumably, to get a moment of peace.

“A brush?” questioned the hyena. His eyes searched and fell upon the offending tool that laid abandoned beside the bed. He shook his head.

“What’s wrong with that?” Grim tilted his head in confusion.

“Look: when you brush a cat-“

“Lion” Leona interjected with a death stare. He’d come back to join the group and narrowed his eyes at Ruggie having heard him call him a ‘cat’.

“Fine. When you brush a…lion, they get comfortable. And when they get comfortable, they…” Ruggie gestured with his hands to coax the answer out of you.

“…fall asleep?” You questioned as you furrowed your brow wondering why he trailed off when he knew the answer.

Within a split second you gasped loudly; eyes widening once the realisation had dawned on you.

“Oh…” You looked over at Leona apologetically who only looked back with a bored stare.

“Yeah…” Ruggie agreed with a scrunched nose. He grinned making a mental reminder to show Jack the photos later. Oh, what juicy, juicy blackmail he now possessed.

“I don’t care what you’re talking about and I’m not standing around here waiting for you to finish.” The King of Beasts ‘hmphed’ and headed out of his room at warp speed.

“How are you not annoyed you only have one braid?” You heard Ruggie ask coming to the side of his prefect. He threw a cheeky grin back at you over his shoulder.

“I got to sleep more. I don’t care. It’s just hair,” answered Leona nonchalantly. The young hyena couldn’t really argue with that.

“I’ll put the other braid in later” said Ruggie. That poor boy probably knew Leona long enough that the lion would be bothered about the lack of braid eventually.

You let out a big sigh and let your body relax now that you were out of that situation. You followed behind the two Savanaclaw boys at a distance.

“Huh…” Grim flew beside you slowly with a paw rubbing his chin in thought.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“If all it takes is one brush to knock him out, we could steal A LOT of rich boy’s stuff,” pondered the small demon loudly with a nodding motion.

You laughed dryly. “Come on, don’t you get any funny ideas”

And with that, off you all went towards the school cafeteria, and towards what would be another crazy day at Night Raven College.

---------

(I’ve been watching cat videos lately on YT and the inspiration came to me! Our Leona is a big kitty after all!

I’ve not written in a long time so there are mistaaaakes, but thanks for reading!)

[elsanna-shenanigans]

April Contest Submission #10: Green Like Flowers

Words: ca. 4,000 Setting: Modern AU Lemon: No CW: mild angst

The train whistled as it left the station. A piercing scream, cutting through the dewy darkness of early morning. Birds, startled awake from their nightly slumber, took to the sky. Fleeing like their wings were on fire, up and away from branches that were all but safe a few moments before. Their small black bodies quickly lost to a sky that had not yet been kissed by an unforgiving sun.

The engine chugged, rhythmically turning large, cold steel wheels. Pulling both itself and its posy of railcars along with it. Quickly picking up speed, outside one of the windows; a dog ran alongside the tracks. His tongue hanging outside his large muzzle, flopping with each bounding leap. He ran on a well-worn path, a frequent activity. The further the train went, the more he fell behind until Elsa could no longer see him. So too did the path fade. Giving way to leaf-covered ground and sparse trees. The click-clack of the train melted into nothing, like the ocean waves when one lives by the sea.

Elsa Settled into her seat but dared not to rest. Her mind racing fasting then the landscape outside the window. The train was still mostly empty, many seats were vacant. She glanced around, taking everything in without fear of looking creepy. The floor was carpet tiles, frayed on every edge but free of at least large debris. The seats, two on each side of the aisle, were a worn blue fabric. Each headrest was adorned with stark white doctor’s table paper. Fluorescent lightbulbs of varying shades of white and yellow had been illuminating the narrow walkways, now dimmed. Allowing the high-backed seats to cast long shadows.

A few rows back an older man sat slouched in his seat, his fedora, which had seen better days, was pulled down to cover his eyes. The ghost of a beard was painted across a jaw held tight by clenched teeth. Next to him, an older woman sat, knitting with the speed of a youth long past. She was counting to herself or perhaps singing. Her thin lips moving in unison with dancing needles. So the yarn was tugged and so too the corners of her mouth.

In another row a small child was fast asleep, curled into his’s mother’s side. The woman’s head tilted back, mouth agape. She wore what looked to be a brand new hoodie, a large sports logo plastered across the chest. It wasn’t a team Elsa recognized, the child shifted slightly, and they too wore a matching hoodie.

Elsa turned back so she was facing forward once more.  She glanced out the smudged windows to see the faintest hint of light, peeking over the horizon. And she took a moment to marvel at the fact she had to travel North, then West, then South, then West again just to reach the opposite coast. All the years of human advancements and there still wasn’t a train that simply went East to West. Instead, it zig-zagged across rivers, over the plains, and through mountains.

A movement to her left caused her to turn. A man about her age sat restlessly in his seat. Large headphones completely engulfed his ears. One hand clutching a phone, the other gesturing wildly through the air - pointer finger and thumb fully extended with the remaining fingers ever so slightly curved inward. His voice was barely above a whisper, Elsa had to strain to hear the words which were choppy, loose, but forever moving forward like a rushing stream over stones.

Just then the door between cars slid open, spilling the outside in. Chains rattled, wind blew, the click-clack of the track demanded attention. And standing there, a young ember, sparking as intense eyes surveyed the nearly empty train car before settling on Elsa and finally flicking to the seat next to her. The door closed as if in agreement and the woman floated over. Two copper veins of braids framed a speckled face. She smiled and sat down without asking.

“I’m Anna,” she said, it wasn’t a comment or an introduction, it was a commanding statement. She was Anna and whoever she was, Elsa had no choice but to deal with the sudden intrusion.

“Elsa.” She replied, trying to match the other’s tone.

This earned a nod from Anna, her head tipping back, chin raised for a brief moment before landing in neutral again. Silence settled like a heavy fog. Elsa was never good at small talk. Through the defining silence, she heard the ticking of knitting needles and soft rap lyrics start again. Nothing from the mother or child, this new woman’s entrance had not been enough to wake them from slumber.

“Where are you headed?” Anna asked, keeping her voice low.

“San Francisco,” Elsa replied, trying to ignore how much the woman’s eyes stabbed right through her.

“Oh what?!?” she paused to take a breath and bring her volume back down. “I’m going there too, maybe we can be train buddies!”

And suddenly the flames that protected the young woman from the outside world parted and Elsa saw, not a commanding bitch of a woman, but an innocence - a kindness that she hadn’t seen in a person in a long time.

“Buddies,” Elsa repeated slowly as if tasting the word for the first time.

This earned another smile from Anna, who had either not noticed Elsa’s lack of enthusiasm or chose to ignore it.

“Well it’s what like, 15 days to get from here,” she pointed beyond Elsa to the series of trees whipping past the window. “Aaaall the way over to there. So I think, it would be nice to have someone to talk to, have meals with, maybe exchange playlists…”

“I mean I don’t know,” she pulled her arms in like pulling a trenchcoat closed. She dared not to let the demons out nor let any new evil in. She hated meeting new people, hated that period of time when stupid questions are asked. Hated, even more, when the friendship was temporary, formed for convenience rather than growth. Why spend all that time putting cereal in a bowl piece by price only to find out theres no milk.

Elsa was not yet old in the traditional sense, but she had lived many lifetimes. Broken enough hearts and had enough hearts be broken, both from love and friendship, to waste even more hourglass sand on the freckled book in the seat next to hers.

“No offense but I don’t really know you.”

Anna laughed, a full-bellied laugh that had her eye squeezed shut and her head tipped back against the paper covering the headrest. Elsa felt her face start to numb and fought the urge to bounce her leg. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip and she turned her head to study the trees.

“We can be train buddies while we get to know each other. Like, we might as well anyway, seeing as we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other anyways.”

Elsa didn’t turn her head, “It is a long train.”  

“Yes and no, the length? Sure. But there’s the cargo cars, the sleeper cars, the dining cars, the private cars, and THEN there’s the passenger cars like this one. Sooo I think I’m gucci when I say; we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

“Gucci?” Elsa turned, pulled by the odd choice of word. She was met with yet another smile from her unwanted companion and she regretted turning at all.

“Yeah you know, ‘it’s gucci’ or ‘it’s all good’ same thing.” Anna shrugged but otherwise didn’t move, oblivious to Elsa’s inner turmoil and discomfort, instead, she used this as an opening. Like a racer who finally found a way to pass the leader.

“So, let’s just get all the weird basic stuff out of the way. I’m Anna like I said. I’m from Tennessee, born there, lived there, and went to school there. My favorite color is green. I don’t have any pets or siblings. My parents are divorced but they kinda get along. And I fly drones and do photos for realtors. In my spare time, I like watching movies and pretending to read.”

Behind them, the child resting against his mother stirred, his muffed words, likely exaggerated, were somehow loud enough to be heard over everything else. When his mother didn’t respond, he yawned louder till she awoke will a start. Immediately the child leapt up and took off running towards the door Anna came through. Elsa feared he would open it but he waited, bouncing on his heels till his mother, groggy with sleep and not yet aware of the world, shuffled over. Together they disappeared through the door.

“Aaaand you?” Anna asked. Elsa sighed, the reprieve caused by the commotion had ended and she found herself backed into a corner. She had to at least give some answer or she feared the girl would never leave.

“I’m Elsa, I am from the East Coast. I have a master’s degree. I enjoy the color blue.”

  A few beats passed, the train clicking along the tracks. The sun was higher now, its warm beams reaching out at greedy fingers, casting golden whispers within the other girl’s braids.

“Wait, that’s it?”

“Yes.”

“I told you so much more. Are you one of the people who can’t open up and I have to ask a bunch of questions to get them to talk?”

Elsa flinched, she was one of those people. But she didn’t like being called out so directly like that.

Anna smirked, catching the flinch. “I’ll make it less of an interrogation and more of an exchange, so it’s not so scary, alright?”

Elsa nodded, it was actually a good solution to this trap she was in, as much as it pained her to admit that.

“I’m moving to San Francisco or the outskirts at least. What about you?”

“More or less, the same.”

“I have a job lined up with a big real estate firm downtown, I start at the end of the month. And you?”

“At the end of the month, I will be starting my job as well.”

Anna sighed and shifted in her seat, readying a new approach like a hunter with a spear. “So why the train?”

Elsa felt her face redden and she mumbled a quick “I just felt like it.”

And in the spear went, embedded deep within. Its jagged backwards teeth holding it in place. It wasn’t a good answer. It was a very bad answer, one that said too much without saying much at all.

“Oh come on, that’s not an answer!” Anna waited a beat for Elsa to answer before pressing further. “So I’ll ask again, why the train? And this time, no mumbling,  I need you to say it… out loud.”

Elsa exhaled through her nose. And opened her mouth to speak before closing it again. She was at the crossroads of telling a stranger a lie or speaking the truth into existence for the first time. Giving a name to the shadow of guilt that hung over her, maybe it would let go and take with it this spear. Maybe still the light that so gently clung, in a smooth loving caress to Anna’s skin would, if only for a moment, grant her one kiss of its warmth. And so she chose the path, and took a deep breath, and pushed forward.

“I left my husband at the altar. I packed as much as I could into a few pieces of luggage, and hopped on the first train headed west.”

For once, since their meeting, Anna was quiet and Elsa suddenly felt the need to fill the silence.

“I left him my car and anything I didn’t pack, like the dog and my piano. I quit my pointless job as an actuarial analyst via email right before I boarded the train.”

Anna exhaled loudly and blinked purposely a few times before speaking, “You.. wow. Just left everything behind huh?”

“I wanted to get out of town quickly. I couldn’t breathe.” Elsa tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“So you chose probably the slowest mode of transportation to go across the entire country, just because you ‘felt like it’?”

“I figured it would be a fun adventure and give me time to think.”

Anna laughed, “You mean to brood?”

“I didn’t say that”

“Come on Elsa, you weren’t seriously going to mope and look dramatically out the window for 2 weeks were you?”

“Well, when you put it like that, I guess not.”

“Meaning, yes Anna I was but you called me out on it and now I don’t know what to say. Right?”

Elsa made a face, she had known this woman for less than an hour and she was already so far in her head that Elsa might as well charge her rent. But saying her, what she now saw as reckless and impulsive plan, out loud was freeing.

She felt warmth on the back of her neck and turned back to the window to see the sunlight set fire to a field of corn. Brown wispy tops of long green stocks danced in waves, long endless rows bent and swayed. A lone tree in the middle of the field broke the pattern, the stalks that had come to worship at its feet paid the price for being in the shade. They were shorter and more sparse, yet the further from the tree, the more they grew. The further away from the city, the train went, the more Elsa felt like those corn stalks away from the tree.

  +++

The dining car was busier, packed full of life and people. All of whom were in various states of dress. Some sporting loose-fitting sweats, wiping sleep from their eyes. Others in formal business attire, already on their third cup of coffee and 7th morning briefing. The clicking of their keyboards and monotone voices of video calls faded into the conglomerate of sounds contained in the frankly small space.

“Can I get you ladies anything this morning?” a younger woman in uniform asked, she placed two small, single-page menus in front of Elsa and Anna, who each sat on opposite sides of a small booth.

“A coffee and some toast, please.” Elsa handed the menu back, she hadn’t bothered looking, it was a simple basic order that she never struggled to find anywhere she went.

“Umm,” Anna on the other hand was scanning the menu up and down, trying to decide. “Orange juice and a coffee and a bagel with butter instead of cream cheese. Please!” the woman smiled and took her menu, continuing down the row.

It wasn’t long before the food and drinks arrived. Elsa put one sugar in her coffee and sipped it slowly. Outside the large, clean, windows of the dining car, there were vast sprawling fields. It had been only a few days since Anna became her companion and nearly that entire time, the train had seemed to be continually chugging through the same boring field. So much for seeing the country.

Anna dumped several packets of sugar and a few creams into her coffee before taking a large swig and chasing the hot liquid with orange juice. She made a face and busied herself with her bagel.

This is how their mornings went, and it was a comfortable enough routine.

+++

“So listen,” Anna said. They were back in their seats in the passenger car. “The next stop is going to be a long one, apparently there’s a delay further up the tracks and they���re holding us at this next station for a few hours.”

“Yes, I know this. I heard the announcement too.” Elsa mused

“Yeah ok but listen, they said 4 plus hours right? So I googled things around there and I found this!” she handed Elsa her phone, on it was a photo of a waterfall with text below that mentioned a hiking trail.

“I don’t hike, plus I don’t think we have time anyway.” “We wouldn’t BUT! This,” she jabbed the phone screen. “Is a 10-minute walk from the station. See it’s part of a hiking trail but the station itself is a rest stop for the trail. So we’re going.”

There was that commanding presence coming out again. If the waterfall was so close to the station itself, Anna did have a point. So Elsa agreed.

An hour or so later they were stepping off the train onto a dusty brick platform. To call this a station was being generous. There was a small building, which contained two single restrooms, and one vending machine that looked like it hadn’t been serviced in years.

A soft hand grabbed Elsa’s forearm and she found herself being pulled away from the building and towards the beaten path to the waterfall.

+++

“You know, when I left home. No one checked on me. No one text or calls. Not even from my would-be husband.”

“Not text or even a Facebook message?”

“Nope.” Elsa left out a sigh. “I’m not surprised honestly. People say I’m difficult to get to know. At the wedding, the bride’s side was nearly empty. The few people over there just sat there because the groom’s side was full and they wanted a better view.”

Anna picked up a small pebble and tossed it into the stream, it made a soft plop sound before sinking below the surface. “Why did you guys want to get married then?”

“Well,” Elsa chewed on her lower lip for a moment before answering. “When you’re in business people expect things from you. It’s incredibly outdated and sexist too. But you’re expected to have a wife or a husband, expected to have children, expected to own a home, or at least rent somewhere nice. Have a good, clean car, new tech, nice clothes. All those things.”

She paused to copy Anna’s move with the pebble but missed the water completely, the small stone disappearing somewhere in the woods.

“We met at a company gathering and didn’t hate each other. Our drinks were the same, we watched the same evening news, had the same mild interest in the local sports team. It was enough to bolster a conversation. We started dating a few weeks later.”

“What about the wedding?”

Elsa laughed or at least made a sound that was like a laugh. “We had been dating for 2 years. And when I saying dating, I mean we were each other’s plus one to events, and we had dinner together at the nice restaurants. He was up for a promotion, asked if I wanted to get married and I agreed.”

“Wait what, he didn’t romantically propose?”

“No, we were never really intimate. A kiss here and there, maybe a night over to relieve stress. But if I’m honest, we spent most of our time apart and doing our own thing.”

Anna picked up a stick and picked at the bark, her brows pulled together and the ghost of a frown on her face.

“Did you love him?” she asked quietly

Elsa didn’t answer right away, choosing instead to turn her attention to the waterfall. Finally, after a few long minutes of silence, she answered. “No. No, I didn’t love him. And I would bet everything I own that he didn’t love me either.”

This time Anna sighed and scooted closer to Elsa. “You deserve to be loved, Elsa.”

“I’m not sure I even know what love is.”

Anna stood and walked in front of her field of view. Hands on her hips. “Sure you do!”

Elsa responded by standing and making a face.

“Elsa love isn’t a contract, it’s not a business proposal. It’s work and it’s hard but it also good and warm. Love is telling someone about your day and them listening and offering advice. Love is watching a movie together and laughing at the stupid parts. Love is holding someone while they’re sick and telling them dumb jokes to make them feel better. Love is a lot of things, but what love isn’t is convenient.”

“He was very convenient…”

“But was he love?”

“No.”

Anna reached out and took Elsa’s hand, giving it a light squeeze. “It’s okay, you know? You’re going to be okay. Fresh coast, fresh start.”

“Fresh coast, fresh start?” Elsa repeated, confused.

“Yeah, you’re moving to the West Coast, fresh coast, to start anew, fresh start.”

“Fresh coast, fresh start.” Elsa said again, “You know what, I like that.”

Anna beamed and that warm feeling prickled on the back of Elsa’s neck again.

+++

“So we have the colors all picked out, purple and green. And my dress is white but it’s ever so slightly green like it will catch the light, it’s so pretty.” Anna said. They were back in the dining car, having just finished dinner. About a week had passed since the waterfall adventure and train was rolling again. This time outside the window the fields were broken by large rocks and streams. Anna had her phone out, swiping through photos of her wedding prep.

“You sound excited,” Elsa commented, taking a sip of wine.

“Oh, I am! It’s going to be a lot of fun…” Anna looked up suddenly and stared right at Elsa. “You should come!”

“You don’t have to invite me.”

“Oh please, we’re like practically sisters at this point. Like I know what brand of tampon you used and I know that you snore when you sleep.”

“That’s… that’s a weird thing to know.”

“Elsa, everyone snores, pay attention, I’m forwarding you the rsvp so you can fill out what type of food you want.”

Elsa had to smile as she pulled out her phone to answer the email. “What a strange trip this has been. One day I’m running from my own wedding, and now I’m getting invited to a stranger’s.”

“Not a stranger, a friend,” Anna added, smiling warmly.

“A friend,” Elsa repeated, genuinely returning Annan’s smile.

“You know I was just sitting in the dining car, having a coffee and playing a pointless game on my phone. When I suddenly just felt this pull to leave. And I followed it blindly till I saw you. Then it’s like everything clicked. I think we were meant to find each other.”

Elsa was quiet for some time, considering this. Anna had swooped into her field of vision and hadn’t left since. And for once she didn’t mind the company. That warm feeling was back and with it, Elsa found herself agreeing. “I think we were meant to find each other too.”

+++

In the morning they would be arriving in San Francisco and would be going their separate ways. It was likely they wouldn’t see each other again. Sure, they had exchanged numbers - but in a city of 3 million people, it was easy to lose a single soul.

She didn’t want to lose Anna though. This blaze of a woman who dared to knock down Elsa’s walls with a bulldozer. She had never really had a close friend, and as Anna, asleep on her shoulder, stirred in response to a dream - Elsa couldn’t help but wonder if this is what it felt like to be loved.

Anna shifted, reaching out her hand, searching for something. Fingers moved with a purpose, slowly curling and uncurling until their ship reached the harbor. And she wrapped them around Elsa’s hand, holding firmly, as if she was once again reading Elsa’s mind and was too, afraid to let her go.

Elsa decided then and there, that this time would be different. This time she wouldn’t close the door on someone. She gave Anna’s hand a slight squeeze, causing Anna to nestle into the old woman’s neck.

Elsa turned to watch the lights from the city fade into the darkness of the desert. Her neck was warm and this time it traveled down and warmed her whole body. She ran a thumb over Anna’s hand and smiled.

[strangeinternetwasteland]

Shattered Reality- Chapter 5

A/N: This chapter explains Gojo and Geto a little more. Y/N goes through a lot mentally.

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, fluff

Word Count: 2.6K

You were thankful for Gojo’s sense of urgency. The moment you uttered those words, he just reacted. You were anxious, scared, and  uncertain. Sure your apartment building wasn’t very big, only three stories, but really other people’s lives were in ashes too. As you were traveling to your probably non-existing apartment, you were filled with dread. Where were you going to go now? You didn’t have any family around, and staying in a motel was going to cost you money you didn’t have.  You groaned externally. How much worse could your life get?  You really didn’t need an answer to that question, because you knew the answer.

    As you debated  your life and whether it was worth living, Gojo grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers with his. An intimate gesture you’d normally shy away from, but for some reason, you found yourself actually enjoying whatever this was with him. You relaxed a bit. He brought your hand to his lips and kissed your fingers. Each and every single one. He hadn’t spoken a word since leaving his penthouse, but you really could use some sort of positive outlook in this situation.

   As he turned the corner of the street where your apartment was located, you saw the fire engines, and police cars blocking the way. Gojo slowed the SUV, while you untangled your hand from Gojo’s. When he stopped you hopped out of the car and jogged to the scene of it all.

   The fire was quick and intense, but there was virtually nothing left. It wasn’t as painful for you, seeing as you had very little to begin with, but other people’s lives were completely destroyed. You began to weep for them. You fell to your knees and just sobbed. You wish you could erase the last few days. You wanted it to end, all the pain, all the psychological scars, all the loneliness you were feeling.

   Gojo had seen the emotional turmoil you were in. He realized that while the loss for you wasn’t great, for other’s it was more. It was their life. It was everything they owned. He’d do a lot more than burn down an apartment for a lot less. Hell, he did do a lot more for a lot less. It was what he grew up to be, who he was. He did feel an inkling of remorse, but at least nobody died... this time. He couldn’t ignore you or your feelings, he didn’t want to appear selfish or cold. So he did what any good guy did. He would comfort you.

   Gojo wrapped his arms around you as you sobbed. He could play the perfect gentleman, he had been taught well. He knew that Geto’s father preferred him over Geto when it came to playing that role. Geto would grow angry quickly, and lash out just as he did two nights ago on you. As always, Gojo would be the one to clean up any mess Geto left behind. Most times, they could just drug them off and drop them off in the middle of nowhere with little regard for their wellbeing. Not this time though.

   This time it was problematic, you were Kioko’s best friend, and unfortunately, another complication. So Gojo would play the sweet, and kind gentleman who saves the day. Kioko, who was so totally oblivious to the world around her. Gojo did think of her as a little sister, he cared about her. Enough so that he beat one of her ex’s two inches away from death, just because he grabbed her wrist to keep her from walking away.

   Geto was lucky he was  the leader's biological son. Gojo could’ve done so much worse to Geto, and he planned on it. While it was tricky, it was not impossible. That was always the plan all along though. It was always sitting in the back of his mind. Geto was set up to inherit the Nameless, when his father died, which could be at any moment. The only terrible thing that Geto did besides get physical with people, was take photos of all his “prizes” as he referred to them. Photos of the women he’d fuck, maim, or kill. What was surprising was the number of women who were into it. They’d allow him to do whatever he wanted to them, only because it was fun for him. Geto was really fucked up, when Gojo actually thought about it.

   “Gojo, you’re hurting me.” You said to him. Gojo snapped out of his thoughts and back to reality. Gojo released his grip on your shoulder and rubbed the pain away.

   “I am so sorry, Y/N. I was thinking about how awful this must be for you. I was getting upset at how terrible these last few days have been.” He told you as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You leaned into him.You knew that this relationship, if you could call it that, felt good, even if temporary.

   “The good thing here is that no one died.” He told you. You nodded in agreement, and gave him a small smile. You really were thankful you had Gojo to lean on right now.

   “I should really find the officer that called me and talk to him.” You told Gojo. He watched you as you did so.  Thinking on everything .Gojo waited while you talked to the officer. You gave your name and contact info to him. He asked a few questions about your whereabouts, and you answered them honestly.  When the officer turned and saw Gojo he gave him a solemn nod. A secret code between members of Nameless. This was not lost on you, and  you were going to ask him about it. The officer feigned interest, and let you go after a few minutes.

   After talking to a few neighbors and checking in with them. Making sure there wasn’t anything they needed you walked back to Gojo. He took your hand in his as you headed back to his SUV. You warmed at the action, it seemed as if at least one thing was going right in your life.

   “Gojo. I saw you and the officer nod to each other. Is that some sort of secret sign?” You teased him, laughing slightly and the ridiculousness of it.

   “Yes, actually. We’re both in the mafia.” Gojo told you honestly. You laughed at him, thankful for his playful attitude.

   “HA! HA! Very funny.” You said with sarcasm. Gojo was relieved to hear you think it was a joke, but when it came down to it, he could tell you that he was honest and he did tell you at one point. Gojo turned the car around and started heading back to his penthouse. If he had his way, you’d stay there forever, and he will, but he at least needed to act like you had an option.

   “Y/N. I know that everything is really fucked up, right now. I want you to know that you’re more than welcome to stay in my penthouse as long as you’d like.” Gojo offered you. You really hadn’t thought much about it honestly. You would’ve stayed with Kioko, and then you remembered Geto. You decided that you needed to talk to Kioko about Geto, but wasn’t mentally prepared for that. You groaned aloud over the thought.

   “Judging by that, I will take you to a family member if you prefer.” He countered.

   “I don’t have any family, I was going to ask Kioko if I could stay with her, but…” You trailed off. You knew you didn’t need to say anymore. Gojo was with you through it all. You didn’t want to impose him anymore than you already have. Gojo couldn’t have been happier to hear that you didn’t have any family. No one would interfere.

   “Look, if it helps, you can stay in my room, and I can stay in any of the guest beds, or on the couch.” He offered you.

   “What if I want to stay in your bedroom with you?” You asked, trying to be flirty with him. He didn’t say anything in response. He just started the SUV and headed toward home. Unsure of what to say, you texted Kioko. The silence that filled the car was slightly awkward. Gojo put his hand on your knee. Honestly, the thought of just keeping you locked away from Geto, and being able to have you for himself  was incredibly alluring.

   “I was just kidding.” You finally said after a few moments of the unbearable silence.

   “Hm? Kidding about what love?” He asked you, rubbing your leg. It seemed weird to you that he didn’t even listen to a word you said. Like some sort of switch had turned off in his mind. Although, calling you love, was almost impossible to not get excited about.

   “Staying in your bedroom with you.” You said in a small voice. He laughed at this.

   “Oh! Did I not respond to you? I mean, I have expectations of a woman when I am sharing a bedroom with her.” He squeezed your thigh with a lusty look in his eyes.

   “Oh...I don’t mind helping out with cooking, or cleaning.” You told him, not understanding why he was acting so off.

   “I wasn’t talking about cooking or cleaning.” He inhaled sharply as he pulled off into an alleyway. “I was talking about more intimate matters.” His devilish smirk didn’t hide any of his thoughts.

   Gojo’s thoughts were far from his actual actions. He thought that if he could be intimate with you then you’d be more willing to do the things he asked. You were attractive to him sure, but the most appealing thing about you is that you were forbidden. Kioko’s best friend, and wanted by Geto. There was nothing he wanted less right now than intimacy.

   “I-I am flattered Gojo, really. I know I said I wanted to stay with you in your bedroom, but I was just trying to be flirty. I really am not like that.” You admitted feeling foolish.

   Gojo frowned. You were rejecting him. Something that not many women did. Though he had to admit this made you more appealing. He removed his hand from your thigh.

   “My apologies, if I made you uncomfortable in any way. I overstepped my bounds. You already are dealing with so much. I am making it harder for you. If you do wish to stay with me the offer still stands. I will keep my distance from you. If you need anything feel free to ask. Otherwise, if you’d like I can drop you off at Kioko’s, since you're most comfortable with her. I can tell Geto keep his distance, but I cannot guarantee he’d listen to my suggestions.” Gojo’s tone turned cold.

You felt a stab in the chest. The warmth you felt just moments ago. You weren’t sure where you’d want to stay honestly. It was all overwhelming. While you really wanted to keep it all bottled up and suppress it, you felt yourself cracking. You weren’t a desperate person. You didn’t need love or affection, you didn’t seek gratification from people. You put walls up and let no one in. That’s exactly who you were. Why did Gojo’s actions bother you? Why did you exactly want Gojo anyway? Why did you let Geto get away with choking you? Why didn’t you kick his ass? Why? The answer was being screamed into your brain. Because you were weak. It was as simple as that.

Gojo pulled into the parking garage. You couldn’t do it anymore. You broke. You screamed as loud as you could muster. It was high pitched, and eerily reminiscent of the day prior. You felt like you were being tortured. When the screaming stopped, the tears came. You weren’t okay, you were losing it over everything. You wanted to make it all stop, and end it all.

Gojo sat there in the car. While, he really did truly understand this feeling. He was unsure how you wanted to be comforted. He let you scream out all of your frustrations, he knew after the pain, there were tears. After tears, there was emptiness. That changed a person, you either got over it and kept being you, or it changed your whole being.

You began sobbing into your hands. Of course when you truly needed someone there was no one. Kioko never responded to your text. Gojo hated you because you rejected him, and Geto wanted you dead. You were replaceable to everyone. You felt yourself growing angry. Why did it matter if you rejected Gojo? He shouldn’t have gotten mad at you. That’s an asshole thing to do. Gojo, to you, was no better than any other asshole. You felt the anger boiling over. You stared at Gojo, tears streaming down your face.

“You’re nothing but a fucking asshole.” You told him with venom in your voice. You didn’t care how nice he was to you before. It was his fault. Gojo was as unreadable as ever. He didn’t give you any hint of emotion.

“It must be easy for you. To not feel anything. No not give a shit about anyone  other than yourself. To play with people’s emotions! To live in your fortress in the sky looking down on all the people like they’re peasants, for your pleasure.” You screamed at him.

“Anything else you’d like to tell me?” He asked you mockingly. You wanted nothing more than to punch him in his fucking face. There was nothing else that would give you pleasure at this moment.

“No, other than you’re a bitch.” You said as you cocked your arm back and then aimed straight for his nose. He dodged the attack, and took your hand in his. A slightly amused look was on his face.

“Y/N. I understand where you’re coming from.” He told you, but you didn’t believe him.

“Yeah, how could you Mr. Rich asshole, know what it is like to be me? You didn’t grow up poor.” You retorted.

“No. I didn’t. I had all my needs met.” He told you as a matter of factly.

“You know you can go fuck yourself!” You spat at him. Your anger was just exploding. You finally connected your fist to his jaw. Gojo couldn’t believe that you actually ended up punching him. It wasn’t super hard, but he did know it would be sore for a day or two. He knew he’d been egging you on. He knew that you needed to release everything you felt. He didn’t mind being the one you took it out on.

Your face turned from anger to horror as you realized what had you happened, what you had done. You backed up as far as you could, which wasn’t that far. You feared what Gojo would do to you. You fumbled looking for the door handle trying to escape as quickly as possible. Again there was no emotion on Gojo’s face, he turned getting out of the car, and walked around the car. He was opening your door, when you fell back slightly. The only thing on your mind was to run. Your fear was at an all time high. You got out of the car, shut the door, and turned to run.

Gojo placed a hand  on your arm, squeezing slightly, and pulling you into him. You were unsure of why he would act like this. You didn’t want to have anything to do with him, and he didn’t want anything to do with you, you were sure. He wrapped both arms around you, and whispered.

“You’re okay. You’re safe.” You didn’t want to believe him, and yet, you believed him. He hugged you for a moment longer and grabbed your hand pulling along with him inside to his penthouse. You felt completely empty.

<<Previous                                                   Next>>

[pricemarshfield]

the killing kind

A post-canon Drarry fic. Read on AO3 here.

Harry would like one day away from the press, from being the Boy who Lived, to just be Harry. Polyjuice would work, but it's disgusting and difficult and also possibly illegal, but wizards are bad at recognizing anything non-magical, so this might work.

At least, that was his reasoning for walking into Diagon Alley with a Muggle stage prosthetic that makes his chin look completely different, a fake mustache, and his hair enchanted to be long enough to finally, finally cover his scar. He's sure that last one will wear off in an hour, but that should be enough to get an ice cream at Fortescue's and sit outside and eat it without being swarmed.

You'd think, years after Tom Riddle's death, that they'd stop caring about him. But no, they need to report every little thing he does. Harry Potter rushed through Auror training. Harry Potter quits Ministry work, possible run for Minister? Professor McGonagall had tried her best to keep his professorship at Hogwarts under lock and key, but after his first day, the papers had a tell-all. He's not sure which student it was, but they're children. He can't blame them.

The first Prophet reporter he sees, a woman with shockingly long hair he recognizes as taking photos outside a restaurant near the Burrow (preceding an article about his break-up with Ginny that made it seem like something tragic and not like school sweethearts amicably parting weeks before the photo was taken), doesn't give him a second glance. He has to force himself to walk normally past her and not rush.

It's the one thing Auror training actually taught him. People won't pay attention to you if you act like everything's fine. One art thief he'd caught in the three weeks he'd actually worked at the Ministry had just walked into places and taken paintings, not bothering to sneak or disguise himself whatsoever. They'd assumed he must have been there. Harry had felt bad taking him in, actually; he was taking better care of the paintings than the rich assholes he was taking them from.

"Was going to take one from the Malfoys next," the guy'd said. "I know apparently the wife and the kid aren't actually, you know, Death Eaters, but they sure don't need all that art, don't they?"

"Don't suppose you'd let me catch you right after you stash that one somewhere," Harry'd joked.

"Nope. Sorry, mate," he'd said, and sounded so much like Ron that Harry made idle conversation about how Animagi tended to find it pretty easy to escape from wizarding jails, and how Azkaban was much more--ethical, now that the Dementors were gone and Hermione had aggressively campaigned for prisoners' rights. (With Harry's quiet support and financial backing, remembering how haunted Sirius had looked.)

Anyway. He's getting lost in his thoughts again. It does mean he doesn't notice if there's any other reporters on the path to Fortescue's. It also means he doesn't process the words on the sign in front of him for long enough that he's getting a couple weird looks.

Aguefort's Chronomantics Romantic Novels

Books to Transport You Through Time, Space, and Dimensions!

Harry blinks at it, looks around. This is the corner where Fortescue's was--and he briefly considers hexing himself when he remembers that Florean was one of the people who disappeared, back in the war, who never came back after. Sure enough, there's a little in memorial metal plaque on the front door of the bookshop.

He swears under his breath. He should have remembered this. But no, he's stuck.

There's probably some other shop he can grab something at, right? Other than what looks like overpriced romances? There's a few sit-down restaurants, but he needs to be in and out in forty minutes, max.

He wanders aimlessly down the streets, hoping to catch a whiff of something. Churros, tacos, some sort of street cart or something. Diagon Alley's not really that type of place, but he hasn't been here in a year and a half, so maybe someone's pushing convention.

There doesn't end up being any cheap little shops on the side of the road, but fifteen minutes later, he does see a place that sells chips and has outdoor seating, and that'll have to do. When he walks in, the place is packed, but the line's moving quickly enough that he should still be fine, if he eats quickly. Worse comes to worse, he can just Apparate away when his hair starts to act up.

He gets through the line, pays, gets his chips, adds some more salt to it, and sits outside in under six minutes. (He counts. Also, he has a watch that he remembers to look at three minutes in.) Outdoor seating's a little cramped, and he can feel himself tense, shoulders higher than they should be. He lets himself sit with his back to the wall, eyes on everyone, ignoring the reminder for CONSTANT VIGILANCE in his head from old Mad-Eye, and begins to eat.

Now that he's got some food in him and he knows...well. He's pretty sure that no one's watching him from behind, he's able to look around and appreciate his surroundings, being in the world without being stared at. It's then that he realizes a few things:

1. Most of the people here have notepads next to them, quills writing notes on their own.

2. The building across the street has a sign in looping, dramatic script that reads Daily Prophet.

3. Draco fucking Malfoy is at the table next to him, and

4. He's looking right at Harry.

Harry tries to express please, for the love of God, don't make a scene with his face. Malfoy doesn't seem to pick up on it from the way he leans forward, drawing the eyes of someone nearby. Harry casts a quick Muffliato around the pair.

"Potter," Malfoy says.

"I'm just trying to grab a bite," Harry pleads.

"What, you think they wouldn't serve you if you showed up?" Malfoy asks, arching a brow at him like he's said something oh-so-intelligent. Harry wonders if cursing him is worth the attention. But Malfoy being annoying isn't enough to get him on the front page of the Prophet, probably, and Harry didn't speak at his trial for nothing.

"No," Harry says. "But sometimes someone might like to eat without everyone staring at them, yeah?"

Malfoy narrows his eyes at him. "I can understand that."

That was more than Harry'd expected. His shoulders drop a little. "Good. I'll be out of here in just a few minutes anyway." He looks back down at his chips.

"Why?" Malfoy asks.

Harry looks up at him. He hadn't exactly anticipated a conversation with Malfoy. With a glance at the Prophet next door, Harry says, "Hungry."

"I didn't mean why here, Potter, have you really not gotten any smarter since we were at school?"

"Have you really not changed since Hogwarts either?" Harry snaps, knows it's a low blow right after it's left his mouth. Malfoy's face blanches, and he turns back to his book with a pinched expression that Harry doesn't feel guilty about. Decidedly not guilty. Not even a little. His hero complex has gotten better, and he can tell Hermione that later.

One minute and fifteen seconds later, Harry caves and hands Malfoy a chip. He has to lean way too far, two of his chair legs leaving the ground, but the scrape of that means at least Malfoy glances up and he doesn't have to say anything to get his attention. Malfoy takes the chip with an expression of distaste. He doesn't seem to have any food.

"Did you come here for food and get turned away?" Harry asks, connecting a couple things in his head like those mystery boards Ron still uses at work.

Malfoy glares at him. "No, I'm sitting here because I'm fond of being by a bunch of reporters."

"You could leave," Harry says. "It doesn't look like you're chained here."

"That would be conceding, Potter," Malfoy says primly. "I don't expect you to understand."

"Alright," Harry says. "Look, I just wanted some food, the charm on my hair's wearing off soon, and I didn't mean to rub it in your face." After an awkward pause, he adds, "Also, wizards don't notice anything with Muggle prosthetics, so. You could try that."

"Is that why your chin looks like that?" Malfoy asks, horrified. "It's horrific, Potter, you're better off just taking off those glasses rather than completely destroy your appearance."

"It's temporary," Harry says, ignoring the little thrill up his spine when Malfoy almost-implies something nice about how he looks. "And I'm trying not to get looked at, git."

Malfoy gives Harry a quick up-and-down look then flicks his wand. Harry braces himself, but instead feels his hair cool a little, like a more pleasant disillusionment charm. When he glances at the shop's window, he can see it's fallen even further flat.

"Thanks," Harry says. Malfoy nods at him. "Sorry."

"What are you talking about?"

"That that happened," Harry says. "The shop thing, not the--not the hair thing."

The corner of Malfoy's mouth quirks up. "I'm used to it."

Not for the first time, Harry's struck with a quiet sense of injustice that he doesn't really know what to do with. In school, it was simple: pass his classes, defeat Riddle, and try to win the House Cup. But there's things he can't tackle quite as easily, or at least the path towards them are less clear. The right of blood over anything else in wizarding families, the existence of house elves, the way people are judged years later for what they did as a child in war.

Harry's under no illusions about Malfoy being a good person; he was still a bigoted little git in school. But he also knows he's made an attempt to do better, to be better.

"If you want," Harry says, wincing at how awkward and halting his voice sounds. "Next time the Prophet corners me, I can say something nice about you. Might change things."

"Why?" Malfoy says,  brow furrowed, the picture of distrust.

Harry shrugs. "Dunno. Seems unfair."

"You really do have a hero complex," Malfoy says despairingly. "I thought it was just a pathological need for attention, but no, you really do have to step into situations that don't need you if you have even the slightest inkling someone might be a bit upset."

"I don't have to," Harry says, rolling his eyes. "It was an offer. You know, something people do when they're trying to be nice?"

"Gryffindors," Malfoy sighs. "This is why you lot end up being Chosen Ones."

Harry wants to yell at him or just throw a hex, reporters be damned, but Malfoy's smiling slightly, and his tone was almost joking, maybe.

"At least we didn't have to live in a dungeon," Harry says, and meets Malfoy's gaze with a slight smile back.

[roselevesque]

Rose watches Utena for the first time and writes down her thoughts - Episode 7

Revolutionary Girl Utena spoilers ahead!

So it is known in advance, before starting the show I was aware of the following things:

Anthy is not what she seems

Anthy’s brother is the prince and he is trash

There are abuse and incest plotlines between the aforementioned characters

Utena and Anthy are canon

Utena kind of dies in the end

With that out of the way, I’ll be posting here my reactions and analysis of the series, so I can look back on them when I finish.

This being said, let’s get on with the episode. Discussion under Keep reading.

The student council member who has the focus today is Juri, an imposing young lady and amazing fencer who has a reputation for not being beaten in battle. Yet, despite these qualuties she possesses, she doesn’t feel fulfilled. The title of the episode and her first lines of dialogue point this out in an obvious way.

What’s interesting is that the one she’s telling this is Miki; fellow student council member and fellow highly-accomplished individual who doesn’t take pride in his talent due to unresolved personal issues.

A recurring theme with these two is using the duels and, by extension, Anthy, as a tool to mend their cracks instead of confronting them head on. It wouldn’t surprise me if the other duelists are revealed to be in the same or a similar boat eventually.

Cut to Utena and Juri’s first discussion. Originally, Utena presents herself as a nonbeliever in Anthy’s power, who thinks of a practical use for such a thing, like acing her finals ( something that Juri also says she could use the power for during the student council meeting ). Their talk about miracles stirs old memories for Juri, but she remains calm, probably because of Utena’s down to earth attitude.

It isn’t until Anthy shows up and offers her a rose, the same type of rose as the girl she loves must have once given her, that she snaps and slaps Anthy. ( And the amount of slaps this girl was put through in less than 10 episodes is maddening. #Anthydeservesbetter )

The rose Juri is associated with is a light orange. I’m aware that there’s a ton of rose symbolism in this show and I’m no expert, but I’m gonna try my best. The rose she wears during the duel being the same one that girl gives her in the flashback is a reminder that she fights to confirm her own cynicism, sewn in her by the girl’s words about miracles not coming true for her. Orange is considered a passionate colour, it’s the warmest colour after all. Juri’s orange is closer to a pastel than a vibrant shade, a possible sign to her “disillusionment”, lost faith and lack of fulfillment.

Touga’s monologue about eggs proceeds as usual and he informs Miki that Juri fights to disprove miracles’ existence by winning the Rose Bride. Touga then calls her out on the fact that a small part of her still hangs onto hope, hope that her feelings can reach the right person, hope Anthy’s powers are the answer, hope miracles exist.

We go through a bunch of flashbacks from which we gather Juri used to have two friends, the girl in her memories and a guy. The girl liked the guy and the guy might have liked Juri, so the girl ended up distancing herself from Juri and getting together with the guy, leaving Juri behind in the dust. ( Hmm, wonder who Juri could have feelings for. The guy whose face we barely see or the girl who had the first line of dialogue in this episode and is the reason for Juri’s rose being orange. Hmm. )

Moving on to Utena and Juri’s second discussion ( that doesn’t end anywhere near as well as the first ), the girls meet somewhere at night. They begin with remarks about each other’s clothing, all well and good. After which Utena shares her story about the Prince and things spiral fast from there. Juri loses it. She’s basically looking into a mirror that managed to be more open about her hope, and she seemingly can’t stand it.

Both Utena and Juri:

Claim not to believe in the power to revolutionise the world, yet hang onto wishes that would require a “miracle” to be fulfilled

Can’t escape from a certain event from the past that made them who they are today, events involving a person each one holds some kind of amorous feelings towards

Have a piece of jewelry as a reminder of these past events

The difference lies with the fact that Utena’s event shaped her into the noble prince persona, an archetype who makes miracles happen in fairy tales, while Juri’s cemented her negativism.

The contrast between them is established earlier in the episode, when Juri was praised for her work as a student council member, while Utena was once again being scolded for technically breaking a rule.

Right before the duel we get a scene of Anthy, alone in a classroom, singing about…rabbits ( she uses her hands, each probably representing one rabbit, Utena and Juri respectively )

And there’s also the regular Shadow Girls show. One Shadow Girl gets sick before a trip to the zoo and loudly proclaims she didn’t want to see the animals anyway, yet the other Shadow Girl sees through her act and says that she actually wanted go. Juri is quite obviously the sick girl, proclaiming that believing in miracles is foolish, but desiring one anyway.

* Starts jamming to Absolute Death Apocalypse *

Utena continues to prove she’s not a regular human by climbing all of those damn stairs and the duel starts.

The duel song brings to my mind a lot of imagery that signifies duality and contrast “Universal light”/“Mosaic light”; “Lucifer”/Michael"; “Light”/“Dark”; “Two sexes, two poles, two of me”; “Angel/Devil”. The polarity is inside Juri too.

The middle part makes a point to express how life is about the people leaving you behind.

“Life is merely…

…the moving shadow of the living.

In the universe of the mind.

…the drifting shape of the living.”

This leads to the lyric talking about light being a temporary existence. Light = miracle. A fact made much more obvious with these:

“The globe of Gyunus shining with light.

Gyunus, in every way, born in miracles.”

And for all of her internal conflict, Juri still feels hollow.

To make matters worse for her, she loses. Beat by what appears to be a miracle. ( This is the 2nd time in a duel when some force has appeared to aid Utena. It’s definitely the Prince’s intervention, but I don’t know what exactly it is or how he’s doing it. Possession? Power boost? Guess we’ll find out. )

The episode ends with surprise, surprise the discovery that Juri is in love with the girl who told her about miracles and that she carries a photo of her in her necklace. She sits under a tree, mulling about how she hates not being able to reach that girl.

And this is the end of my first Utena review-analysis. Hope I did an ok job and everything sounds coherent. I might watch the next episode either today or tomorrow and I’ll see when I’ll be able to write down my thoughts.

Also, I’d appreciate if anyone reading this could avoid spoiling me if you decide to comment on my thoughts. Thank you!

[medea10]

My Review of Zombieland Saga REVENGE

Yes, Franchouchou has come back after a two and a half year hiatus.

HISTORY: Zombieland Saga is an idol show.

I have already cut my readership in half with that one sentence alone. But this is no ordinary idol show! A maniacal necromancer named Kotarou Tatsumi brings seven girls back from the dead. A former idol from the 1980’s (Junko), a former idol from the 2010’s (Ai), a child star from the 2010’s (Lily), a girl with idol aspirations from 2008 (Sakura), a former biker gang chick from 1997 (Saki), a courtesan from the 19th century (Yugiri), and Yamada Tae! There’s no describing what exactly Yamada Tae is but we don’t question it as she’s best girl.

Kotarou brought these seven girls back to life in order to save the Saga area and revitalize it. Throughout the first 12 episodes, we watch these girls get the hang of being alive again after so long and become an idol group. With Kotarou’s make-up skills, he’s able to fool nearly everybody that these girls are living, breathing idols. Almost everybody! At the end of the series, we get one guy who caught on about Lily, Ai, and Junko. But enough about that! Let’s see how successful Franchouchou has gotten since we last left the series.

REVENGE: So this sequel begins with the girls doing odd-jobs trying to earn as much money as they possibly can. Normally, the girls would do odd gigs that Kotarou was able to conjure up and that’s been good publicity for their group Franchouchou. However, they came into some money problems when they gambled and lost. It’s no doubt that their performance in the 12th episode was a banger and gave Franchouchou a boost in the idol scene. However, they aimed too high by renting out a big amphitheater to have a concert and only 1.6% capacity was filled. So the performance that night was a crash and burn type of thing. The after-effect put the girls in the hole (money wise) and Kotarou spends his days getting drunk at bars.

Seriously, look at this guy! He looks like a drunk, fourth season Eren Yeager. Kinda hard watching Kotarou looking so sad, pathetic, and drunk! It wasn’t until the girls had to perform at a metal concert arena that Kotarou got a kick in the pants. The fool arrives to the performance hella late, screaming for an encore when the audience is totally not vibing for one. And the girls end up singing while the audience goes in (for a lack of a better term) a Blues Brothers style rumble. The important thing is that Kotarou is feeling better and is ready to send his little zombie songbirds out to save the Saga prefecture.

Throughout the season, we follow the girls of Franchouchou as they regain some popularity they obtained last season. Will they do it? In the first 4 episodes, the group gained their own radio show and Ai’s old group (before she died) Iron Frill considered them as rivals. I think they’ll be okay!

BUT WAIT…: What about that photographer fella we saw all last season? He was quickly catching onto Ai, Junko, and Lily looking a little too close in resemblance to the girls that died years ago. Slowly throughout the series, we see him get closer to the truth.

NEW IDOL?: Oh God, did Kotarou commit taboo once again by bringing another girl back from the dead?

No…It was sadly much worse.

While at a public bathhouse, a girl (not wearing her prescription glasses) entered the men’s side, slipped on some soap, and was knocked unconscious. Thinking she died, Kotarou brings her body back to the girls (who aren’t wearing their makeup) saying this girl will be #7 in Franchouchou. And just like I said, she is not dead and now she knows that the idol group she loves are dancing zombies.

Kotarou is truly fucking up royally this season.

Anyways, this is Maimai! She’s a fan of Franchouchou and ends up becoming a temporary member of the group as #7 (for the episode). And, she’s voiced by Kana Hanazawa! If you don’t know who she is by now, blow me. It’s a little scary knowing that there’s one person out there that knows about the secret. But Maimai is much too loyal a fan to ruin something for everyone and is totally chill about her favorite idol group really being zombies.

THE TWO UNSOLVED MYSTERIES: As much as many of us loved the first season to Zombieland Saga, there were two characters we wished got more play and we knew a little more about. Yugiri and Yamada Tae! Tae-chan has been the enigmatic idol from day one. And due to her possible mental disability, we might never know. However, in one episode we do see her stopping off at a cemetary and I do believe that was her own grave.

As for Yugiri, even the detective can’t dig up info on her. She was around in the late 1800s or the Meiji era and there’s only one known photo in existence of Yugiri before her death. This season, we got a two-episode saga to bring us the good word on Saga and its importance. We got a bit of a history lesson about the Saga prefecture during the Meiji era and even what it was like before then. And yes, we did learn how Yugiri died and her connection to Saga. It was quite sad, but definitely one of the best episodes of the series.

BEST SONG: Didn’t think I’d have one for this franchise.

Saga Jihen from episode 9.

Nuff said.

ENDING: Well, we learned some extra details on what happened during the fall and rise of Franchouchou. This mostly has to do with Kotarou’s gamble with booking a huge arena for the girls to perform in. First of all, this arena was the place of Ai’s death. You member! When she was electrocuted right there on stage! Second of all, they didn’t sell the tickets until the day of the concert. What was that end result again? 1.6% capacity filled! Even in Covid-19 times, that’s fucking small. Granted, the audience was full of those memorable fans from season one including Saki’s friend’s daughter, Lily’s father, and the two metal jackasses. But still, not a good! The girls hit a brick wall and felt embarrassed. This was the worst moment for these girls (aside from dying once). After the disasterous event, they were millions of yen in debt, they’re running out of essentials for the house, and Kotarou has gone on a two-month drinking binge. It was then that they decided to do makeup themselves and go out in the world to earn a living and eventually pay off the debt.

Thankfully, they were able to get out of debt and regained their popularity throughout Saga and further. Saki has managed to get a radio show. Iron Frill (Ai’s old group) sees Franchouchou as a worthy rival. Lily gained a lot of fame in a televised competition. So what’s next? Kotarou apologized to Franchouchou for his big mistake the previous year and him spiraling out of control. Seconds later, he announces that their revenge will be to perform at the very same arena that fucked up their career the year prior.

Boy, you do NOT learn your lesson, do you?!

More trouble is on the rise as that reporter who caught on about the girls being zombies has confronted Kotarou. We finally circled back to the final scene from season one. This guy has caught on to the fact that the girls of Franchouchou resemble girls that died. The only one that he couldn’t dig up dirt on was Yugiri. Possibly because the only known evidence for existence is a photo at the bar! What’s more, he has a sneaking suspicion that the girls of Franchouchou are all zombies. In a prior episode, the reporter snapped a picture at the right time exposing Yamada Tae’s head rolling around on the ground. Dude is ready to go public with the story of the girls of Franchouchou being zombies resurrected from the dead unless Kotarou pulls the plug on everything. Kotarou simply said that the girls will get their revenge and will perform at the arena.

And then…a storm hit Saga!

There was a lot of damage around town. And worst off was Kotarou’s place, as it was ripped from its foundation, thrown into the sea, and crumbled into nothing after coming ashore. Worst of all, the special makeup the girls use to hide their zombie state was in that wreckage. Meanwhile, Kotarou spent several days trapped in a bar with the bar owner and nearly drowned. The girls ended up in a safety shelter with nearly the entire Saga prefecture. The good thing is because they’re town celebrities that they were given a top floor to themselves for privacy. The bad thing is that they’ve been here for days and their makeup is starting to come off, exposing zombies. And to make matters worse, that nosy reporter who knows the girls are zombies is also staying at the shelter (though the girls don’t know he knows). The girls decided to use Junko’s doll-crafting paintset to make masks to hide behind. That lasted only five seconds while trying to entertain the children of the shelter.

This is it. The girls are exposed as zombies.

Actually, the kids and parents thought this was part of the act and thought Franchouchou was lifting up the spirits of the arena. And in comes Kotarou just in time! Man, right under the wire. Now we’re like a few days from this planned concert and Saga is still recovering from the huge storm. Morale is quite low and it’s starting to look like a worse outcome for Franchouchou’s revenge than what happened one year ago. Saki used her platform on the radio to reach all of her viewers to see if they could try to come to the arena for their concert that is now a charity concert. So will this concert be a big success or a bigger flop than last year?

Actually, the arena was packed with people. Fans we’ve met in season one and new characters we met this season were even in attendance. Lily’s father ended up clearing away a lot of the debris so that concert goers could get through. Even Iron Frill (Ai’s old group) came in attendance! The concert was a huge success! And can I say that I’m really enjoying Yamada Tae’s Freddie Mercury impression on stage.

Don’t think you’re that clever, Zombieland Saga. We all know!

Yes, the concert was perfect! A great revenge! They even made Kotarou (a grown-ass man) cry. Even the reporter is willing to keep his trap shut (for now) about the girls being zombies. And best of all, NO ONE CAUGHT COVID-19! Yeah, I have to bring that up. The date of the concert was March 8th, 2020. Ahem. March. 2020. But yeah, everything went great. Perfect ending for Zombieland Saga Reven…

AND THEN AN ALIEN MOTHERSHIP COMES IN AND ZAPS THE AREA!

Huh?!

Who wrote that in the script? Some jerkass from Gainax?!

The last 15 seconds of Zombieland Saga leaves us with some sort of unidentified flying object zapping the area. Only Zombieland Saga can get away with this shit. Well folks, let’s see what’s in store for season three, Zombieland Saga: Zombies in Space or Sagapendence Day Zomb-Trek: Deep Space Seven.

Yeah, I know nothing has been greenlit or announced yet, but you know Studio Mappa has something up their sleeves with that ending. Once again, I enjoyed Zombieland Saga’s charm. I didn’t know if there was much more they could offer us after the first season’s stories, like learning how the girls died, Sakura’s past, and especially Lily’s backstory. This season, I wish there was more Yamada Tae. Come on guys, we still don’t know how she died or anything about her past! And what’s up with Yamada Tae being buried next to Sakura? Did they know each other before passing away? I want some answers! But I was blown away when it came to Yugiri’s saga and the tale of Saga itself. We got a literal history lesson about what Saga was once, what it became after a long struggle, the pain some folks went to in order to keep Saga thriving, and all leading up to where we are now.

This was a fun season. I had a lot more fun with the music this season than the previous one. Yeah, believe it or not I liked the songs Franchouchou sang this season than last season. Never a dull moment, especially with Kotarou! Yeah, his crazy-ass was totally there making absolutely no fucka sense. Take that competition Lily entered.

What the fuck was Kotarou doing? That was an epic fail on so many levels.

Well folks, whenever season three or whatever sequel may come, I’m hoping for more information involving Yamada Tae. And you know what else was severely missing from this season, Kotarou’s past with Sakura. I didn’t forget that flashback from season one and those couple of seconds this season aren’t enough to satisfy my hunger. Those are the two things I would like to know more about in whatever comes of the franchise. Otherwise, great time had by all!

Once more, if you are not a fan of idol shows, this is the only one I would highly recommend Zombieland Saga. Crunchyroll has both seasons available for streaming. FUNimation is now dubbing the second season as we speak.

[justjessame]

Glorious, Before the Burden - The Comfort ~ 3

The first thing I learned about the laptop and internet was that it held unfathomable information - if only one knew how to access it.  Luckily, Michael knew how to access a great deal of it.  

“I need to know how to find a woman named Jane Foster,” I told him and he smiled.  “What?”  

“A woman?” Rolling my eyes I explained Thor’s fascination with her and he nodded.  “You think if you make contact with her -”

“She will end up on Asgard, Michael, I’ve seen it.”  She’s with Frigga when she dies, she’s housing one of the most powerful forces in existence when it happens.  “I need to know where she is NOW, so I can -”

“Ambush her and piggyback a ride home,” he chuckled.  “Alright, let’s see if we can find Jane Foster.”  

In Asgard, names aren’t quite as common as they were on Midgard - wading through the Jane Fosters that Michael found took time. Far more time than I expected.  

“Why are there so many?”  I asked, feeling as if time was slipping away too fast.  “Have your people never thought of originality?”  He laughed and shook his head.  “I suppose I should be thankful you can find pictures for most of them.”  

“It does make it a bit easier than just the name and ages, doesn’t it?”  He tapped up another group and I gasped.  

“There,” pointing, I bit my lip and squinted.  “I think.”  She looked a little different, wearing something checkered and casual, but I felt fairly certain it was her.  

“Jane Foster, she’s a doctor.” I leaned closer to the screen as Michael brought up the article that was attached to the photograph he found.  “Well, a scientist actually.  Astrophysicist, it says here.”  She was also quite lovely, I could see why Thor had found himself smitten with her.  While he moved the screen through the article looking for an idea of where she might be now, I couldn’t help but stare at the photo and how clever her eyes looked, dark as chocolate.  “Seems she’s relocated to London.”

“London?” My mind went to the foggy streets where Loki held my hand and showed me the sights, hazy though they were.  “How far are we from the city?”  

Finding out where Jane Foster was in London was simple, as simple as finding out how far away London was from the small village I’d made my temporary home.  The real issue was HOW to introduce myself to her without disturbing her or seeming odd.  

“You could just introduce yourself -” Michael advised, and I stared at him in disbelief.  “You are not your husband, Sigyn.”  He reminded me, but I shook my head.  

“The fact that I refuse to denounce my husband, Michael, is what put me in this place to start with,” my reminder to him.  “Announcing to a complete stranger - one who is smitten with my husband’s brother - that I am Loki’s wife might not be taken as well as one might think.”  

He sighed, knowing how much I disliked lying, yet also knowing how I would do it if I had to - after all, I was pretending to be his granddaughter and using a false name while mingling with the villagers.  “You forget your own powers of persuasion, Sigyn.” Eyes soft and a sad smile on his lips.  “People don’t only like you because of a lie, or because of magic -” he patted my hand.  “It’s because they can tell that you’re a good person.”  

“And you think that just meeting this person, and telling her that I’m ME,” he nodded and I bit my lip.  “What if she doesn’t?”  

“Then you do as you did when you first arrived,” I sighed.  “Or with those SHIELD people.” I didn’t like that plan, but it was an option.  “The point is, Sigyn, that you CAN do this.”  

I wasn’t entirely certain that my plan would work, nor that I would be leaving from London for Asgard and not returning to my cottage - so I didn’t pack up everything.  I left Michael with a key, and I took a small bag with me aboard a train.  So focused on meeting Jane Foster that I hadn’t noticed a lack in dreams or visions - worry of the present pushed away the comfort of my past and the fear of the future.  

London bore very little resemblance to the city that Loki first brought me to, and while we had revisited Midgard a few times after that first trip, it had been a long time.  I was pleasantly surprised, however, to find the Langham still standing and in its former glory at that.  Charming my way into a suite was easier than I hoped, and once settled I checked in with Michael.

“I’ve arrived,” I assured him I was safe and sound, impressing him with my accommodations.  “It looks -” I was in a different suite, but it was as opulent as the one I’d shared with Loki so long ago.  “Quite familiar.”  

“I’m sure it is,” he chuckled.  “When do you intend on speaking to Dr. Foster?”  

Sighing, I contemplated my options.  “I must do it soon,” I feared the time was growing close.  “I have her address in the phone, along with the GPS -” He’d shown me how to load the map and directions.  “Tomorrow I think,” it would give me a night to prepare myself.  “I hope I don’t frighten her.”  

“You,” he sounded shocked by the very idea of it.  “Frighten someone?”  A soft sound like another laugh came across the phone.  “Sigyn, you won’t frighten her.”

I hoped he was right. 

I had dinner in my room, and then a long warm bath.  Laying in bed, waiting for sleep to take me, I let my mind drift - and it took me to where I dared not go. Asgard and Loki’s cell.

“Sigyn,” he sounded - was he happy to see my ghoulish visage?  “You’ve been gone for so long, I thought -” He came closer and I drank in the sight of him like I was dying of thirst and he was water.  His hair was longer, wavy with curls - a little paler for lack of natural light, but the blue of his eyes was still the same.  

If I was dying for the sight of him, then he was just as hungry for my image.  Even as I must look like a ghost of the worst nightmare he could have conjured, his eyes roamed from the top of my head to the tips of my toes peeking out from beneath the hem of my shift.  

“I didn’t want to make your confinement more torturous, my love,” I wished I could touch him, but I feared that would do nothing more than cause me to vanish, and clearly he did as well.  “Seeing me in this form -” my eyes burned, hating that he was seeing a lie.  “I hate that you have THIS image.”  

“Sigyn,” he was squinting at me, as if he had seen something different.  “Darling, what did you do?”  

Tilting my head, I focused on him and how angry I was at the cloaking illusion that Frigga was forced to lay over me, should I dare visit him.  I felt it, the flickering of it.  “Loki?”  He nodded, his eyes widening.  “Is it leaving?”  I watched his mouth drop open.  Staring at him, I thought about how badly I wanted him to see ME, just ME, as I was and his eyes turned glassy and he was blinking away tears.  “Can you see me?”

“How?”  He breathed, his hands reaching out, but dropping before he could try to touch me.  Remembering that he could have no TRUE visitors in his cage.  “What magic is this?”  

I looked down, seeing the gown that I wore to bed in the hotel - free of blood and gore.  Shutting my eyes in relief, I opened them to see tears falling from my husband’s eyes.  “Oh, no.  Loki, please, don’t cry.”  I wanted so badly to reach for him, to hold him and explain.  Damn the distance separating us.  “Darling, look at me, please?”  

He was, but I needed him to SEE me.  “You’re dead, Sigyn, they told me - showed me the pick that pierced your heart.”  

I shook my head and opened my arms wide.  “No, Loki.  No.”  Licking my lips, so dry even in a dream.  “I didn’t.  I wouldn’t have.  Knowing you were alive, somewhere, I couldn’t have left you.  Ever.”  

I could see him trying to make sense of it.  Of me and what he was seeing, what I was saying.  “You aren’t HERE.”  I shook my head.  “Where are you?”  

“London.”  His eyes went wide.  “Odin banished me.” His eyes narrowed, but I rushed on.  “Stop, Loki, listen to me.”  Before he could let the rage take over, I had to get him to listen to me.  “I am going to find my way back to you, but you cannot let your anger get the best of you, do you hear me?”  His jaw had gone rigid and his nostrils narrow.  “Loki, my love, please?”  

“They told me you killed yourself, Sigyn.” He bit out, eyes flashing and jaw still tense.  “MOTHER had you looking like a nightmare of DEATH if you dared visit me, didn’t she?”  I sighed.  “And you want me to reign in my temper?”  

“Yes,” he stared at me as if I were the one who had gone mad.  “I want you to temper that anger and rage.  I want you to calm down.  I want you to think about something for me.” 

“What?”  It came out harsh, but then he sighed and his eyes softened.  “Sigyn, what do you want from me?”  

“I want you to think about what you’re willing to give up so we can be together.”  His eyes widened again.  “We lost one another, Loki, because we stopped making one another a priority.  And I need you to think about that while I find my way back.”  

“Anything,” he promised, but I shook my head.  “Anything,” he vowed. 

“I love you, Loki.”  Leaving was going to be so difficult now that he could see the real me.  

“And I love you, Sigyn.”  He was staring at me as if he wanted me to stay forever, but I couldn’t.  Not if I wanted to be able to touch him.  “Come back to me.”  

“I will.”  That was my vow, and my parting. 

[toysoldiers-rwby]

[CS] 4. Duty

4. Duty

Cutting Strings

Characters: Penny, Winter, Xanthic Word Count: 8k

If robots are just tools…

Read on Ao3

PREV - NEXT  

Primary Function: Protector  

Penny learned many things during her few short hours outside her father’s facility. Those with familiar background and status gravitate towards each other. Penny suppose the human variable meant different was of understanding the world. Same behaviors and actions can be used to express different emotions, particularly when people whisper under their breath and avoid looking at others.  

Though Penny still had a difficulty figuring out how May and Winter communicated with just looks. Even sign language used an actual method of communication.  

So far the Military Event was the best day of her excistance. Her true first day out in the world! She got to learn more about her future teammate and possibly made two new friends, Winter Schnee and May Marigold. But… It was odd, that the best day of her excistense could affect someone that was not present.  

Penny was starting to understand how powerful the gaze was.  

She sat at the facility’s kitchen table, head casted down and hands intertwined in her lap. She ignored the slamming keys and hard-light screens. Across from her, Ashley Xanthic furiously typed lines of code. The hacker would run simulation after simulation, until the checks ran red and continued working. Bit by bit, she hacked into Atlas’ network, byte by byte Penny Polendina was becoming an official citizen of Atlas.  

Ironwood wanted her to supervise the hacker. Something that required closer observation but Penny didn’t want upset Ms. Xanthic anymore. She sighed quietly, squeezing her hands. She wasn’t doing a very good job…  

“What’s the point in running the Kingdom if you can’t cut corners?” Xanthic growled to herself. Penny spared a glance up. Her future teammate took a break to sip her coffee but her head just kept tilting back and back before she just groaned into an empty cup.  

“It’s to prevent-”  

“Abuse of power, total dictator ship,” Xanthic droned. She put her cup down, looking at Penny through the gasps of her hard-light screens. "But here I am, in a secure military facility, hacking into Atlas Security with resources the General provided."  

If the public found out General Ironwood manipulated the system, he would be stripped of both his council seats. If the public found out a hacker had done it, the consequences wouldn’t be as dire. Still the General must have other reasons for using her as a scapegoat.  

Penny looked at her hands again, “He cannot make such quick changes legally, the process would take too long. Everything has been signed and approved-”  

“Of course,” Xanthic snorted. After hours of working, the hacker finally stood up. In a few short strides she was at Penny’s side, boxing her into the chair with slender arms. Penny knew Xanthic wasn’t fit, wasn’t a fighter. Her hands weren’t calloused like Aro’s but steady, soft, and precise. Penny could easily win but somehow she felt small and weak under that white burning glare.  

Staring into eyes that were so similiar to her own… but so full of resentment was not pleasent.  

"So why would the General," Xanthic hissed the title out like venom, “Need me to skip the queue?”  

“And why should we tell a criminal, one caught red handed by General Ironwood himself.”  

“Winter!” Penny gasped, hydraulics in her back straightening her posture. The specialist’s voice alone lifted her Aura, but seeing Winter glower back at Xanthic corrected any insecurities the hacker caused. “What are you doing here?”  

“I don’t resume my duties till tomorrow,” Winter said, eyes closed and shoulders tensing for a moment. Xanthic sneered. Penny ignored it because Winter refused to acknowledge the hacker. “I did offer you a tour of Atlas Academy.”  

“How about you don’t make my job harder?” Xanthic asked throwing up her hands. She walked to the fridge, making sure to brush against Winter so the Specialist was forced to acknowledge her. Xan was shorter, but somehow she seemed to have just as strong of a presense. “Marigold gets a pass but you and Glade are aware of the consequences that comes with fame. You really think people wouldn’t look up the mysterious ginger? She is a ginger right?”  

“Penny did not disclose her identity until after we witnesses saw us together,” Winter said with an annoyed sigh.  

“Now you know. Yet you still insist on parading her around?” Xanthic reason. She crossed her arms and glared threateningly at one of the best Huntresses in Atlas. Both women were too busy posturing and trying to intimidate each other to see Penny shrink ever so slightly. She quickly straightened out again when Xanthic lost with an infuriating sigh. “Seriously. Please don’t make my job harder than it is.”  

“Penny’s cover is already ruined, what else would hinder your task?”  

“Research,” Xanthic said opening the fridge. She frowned and gave Penny a disapproving look. “It’s practically empty. Is that why you’re all skin and bones?”  

“I’m not skin and bones…” Penny mumbled under her breath. It felt… bittersweet, a small victory in admitting what she is but what was the point if they didn’t understand it? Predictably Xanthic didn’t believe her. The hacker rolled her cybernetic eyes and peeked into the freezer next.  

“Neopolitan ice cream. I can forgive the lack of food,” she said with a small smile. Penny added the favorite flavor to Xanthic’s notes. “I can do what Ironwood-”  

“General Ironwood.” Winter corrected.  

Xanthic continued without any acknowledgement, “Told me to do, get the legal documents into the system or I can do a good job and actually leave some breadcrumbs for people to find.”  

“Breadcrumbs?” Penny asked.  

“According to Ironwood,” Xanthic started, ignoring the way Winter’s hand twitched in frustration. She looked for cups and spoons. “You’re another SDC orphan.” At that Winter’s composition changed, for a split second she looked guilty. Guilty and sad over a lie. Penny sealed her lips tight and looked down at her hands. She wasn’t lying but her Aura still flared across her system. “I’m editing old security photos and videos too hide a very obscure Penny in it. So it doesn’t look like she just magically appeared out of nowhere.” The hacker finished, looking at Winter. There was a shift between them… Xan’s voice barely audiable to Penny’s sensitive eqiupment, “We don’t want a repeat of last time…”"  

The Specialist hummed, eyes glaring in Xanthic’s direction but not really focused on her until whatever thought left Winter’s mind, “Very well. I’ll inform General Ironwood.”  

“Unnecessary but it’s your energy to waste,” Xanthic said waving her hand. She sat back down in front of her temporary workstation and went back to writing lines of codes.  

“Waste of…” Winter paused, practically growling under her breath. No sound came out but with her facial expression, Penny practically heard it. “And what would be an optimal use of my energy?”  

Xanthic pointedly looked at the near empty fridge. Dr. Pietro’s facility was locked down durng P.E.N.N.Y’s finalization process. There was no reason to stock so much food in the recreational kitchen.  

“I am not doing your grocery shopping!”  

“I’m under house arrest!” Xanthic threw up her arms. Around both wrist was a bracelet with gravity and lighting Dust built in. Once activated it would pin her arms together or send a volt of electricity. Ideally non-lethal. "And I’m gonna be here for at least three days."  

“I’m sure the General wouldn’t mind if we accompany you.” Penny said quietly. The two barely stopped from yelling at each other and looked at her. “The Ace-Ops rudely escorted you here from you’re home. I didn’t see any bags either… so…” Luckily Xanthic was dressed for the day… still dressed from the previous day. Under Xanthic’s unblinking cybernetic eyes Penny’s confidence waned.  

Winter took a deep breath, a finger on her temple. Penny stared, wishing she would unclenched her jaw instead. “Was it Herriet and Elm? Those two are quick and rash.”  

“Herriet and Vine, actually.” Penny said.  

“Figures. Vine has always been to the letter,” The Specialist started to walk down into the living room, “I’ll contact General Ironwood and request your cuffs be synced with my Scroll.”  

“Oh how kind! Ms. Schnee and her girlfriend taking me out for a walk. May I have a treat Mistress?” The hacker asked, her monotone voice alive with sarcasm. She even struck a pose along with batting long eyelashes. Perhaps it would be more effective if her makeup wasn’t so intimidating.  

Winter scowled and the two Atlas elites stared at each other for a minute. The silent challenged ended in a draw, they broth broke eye contact with Winter taking a seat and closing her Scroll. Within a few minutes Xanthic had finished her ice cream and checked the fridge again. With a some excessive force, Xanthic shut the fridge and continued working. Penny watched her hit the backspace more than she should.  

“Alright!” Xanthic yelled, ten minutes later. “I’ll play… nicer than usual.”  

Winter looked too dignified and controlled to smirk but the air around her was far too smug. Maybe it was the lack of reaction that held superiority? Whatever it was it annoyed Xanthic and puzzled Penny.  

The call only took a few minutes. Winter returned to the kitchen and held her Scroll to the gravity cuffs around the hacker’s wrist. It beeped twice, the cuffs flashing green. Outside an unmarked car pulled up. Once Winter opened the door Xanthic’s attitude resurfaced.  

“Are you fucking serious?” She asked staring at the front seat. Their transport was being driven by an AK-200. “I’d like to live.”  

“I’ll drive if you’ll shut up,” It seemed the Specialist was nearing her limit.  

“Again, I’d like to live.”  

“They aren’t that bad,” Penny reasoned softly. She physically stepped between them, even if they could clearly see above her head. That chip of insecurity wedged into her a little. Winter’s patient gaze gave her the strength to continue with a straight spin and even voice, “Safe driving is within their capabilities.”  

“Hm… fine,” Xanthic huffed crossing her arms. “I suppose three VIPs dying will finally help people realize these things are horrible.” Winter quickly got into the car, hiding her face but the door slammed with enough force to shake their transport. Xanthic sneered, a small victory. It would take more than a simple crash to harm a huntress… but her future teammate was a civilian.  

“How terrifying is it to live without a protective Aura?” Penny asked following Xanthic in. This time Xanthic glared at her while Winter sneered. Penny merely tilted her head in confusion, staring at the hacker for an answer.  

“You and fucking Glade,” Xanthic muttered. She looked out the window and the car was relatively silent as Penny tried to figure out how she insulted her future teammate.  

Their first stop was Xanthic’s house. It was big enough for a family and gated, Penny could see some trees growing in the backyard and a garden being tended too by a robot and two Ace-Op members. Before the gate could close behind them, Xanthic swung the door open and jumped out of the slow moving vehicle. Winter was quickly to follow so Penny felt compelled to do the same, even if her steps weren’t a confident march like Winter.  

“Welcome back, Lady Xanthic.” The robot gardener greeted with a bow. “May we prepare a meal for you and your guest?” Xanthic ignored it, pointing a finger at Clover then Marrow. Rude, Penny frowned looking at the robot. It didn’t seem to mind…  

“What the fuck are you two doing here?”  

“I could ask you the same question,” Clover said. His eyes gently swept to Winter and momentarily lingered on Penny. She ducked her head, eyes on the ground and stepping behind her Specialist. “But knowing Schnee, it’s classified.” He smiled but it wasn’t directed at Winter. Her professional mask didn’t recuperate any friendliness but the lack of a negative response was approval, in a way.  

“We’re ensuring you don’t escape a previously hacked into facility, pack your things, and run off,” Marrow answered. By Xanthic’s scowl and huff at a proper answer, the question must have been rhetorical. Penny was realizing most of her questions weren’t actually questions. Marrow plucked an apple from the robot gardener’s basket and took a bite. He hummed at the taste. “Oh and wonderful place! Very hermit and simple.”  

“The singular word would be self-sustaining,” Xanthic growled arms crossed. She finally looked at her butler. It was a different model than the one Penny first saw, smooth and curved, the design and cut in the chassis flowing almost gentlly. “Pack all the leftovers and anything you can prepare in 10 minutes. Not staying long.”  

“Understood, Lady Xanthic.” The gardenerbot bowed a little, then knelt back down and resume working on the garden. Through the window Penny saw two more robots walk into the kitchen. The robot did use we when addressing Xanthic, the robot’s AI must share a network, a hivemind. One of the butlers was definitely the model Penny saw driving the night they first met. Sharp edges, thick layered metal plates, intimidating faceplate, a bodyguard?  

Marrow whistled, “Impressive. For a criminal.”  

“Standard. For a genius.” Xanthic scoffed walking to the front door. She pressed her Scroll to the lock and it slide open. When Marrow moved to follow Clover stopped him.  

“You heard the bots, we can enter the yard but not the house. Until we have a warrant, they are authorized to open fire under the Home Defense Clause.”  

Xanthic chuckled softly, “Good Bobs.”  

“Thank you, Lady Xanthic.” Her butler chirped. Penny frowned staring at it before following Winter. The synthetic voice was flat, could almost past as human if Xanthic wanted it too.  

“Man… how does manage to show us up on her day off?” Marrow mumbled walking to Clover. “And the girl?”  

“Classified,” Winter called over her shoulder. Marrow yelped, a little surprised his loud voice carried that far.  

The first thing Penny’s sensors detected was an increase of temperature. Once she entered Xanthic’s home she understood why. Servers and machines lined the walls, countless of physical monitors mounted onto a surface and displaying news channels across the world. Others had lines of code or blueprints, one monitor occasionally flashed red and ‘Simulation Error. Project: BILLY unable to sync’.  

Xanthic stared at it but glanced at Winter. The Specialist glanced around the room for any weapon, then trained her eyes on the hacker. Xanthic grumbled, walking into the kitchen and sitting at the table. Like Aro’s home there was small electrical components and tools, but only one.  

A broken robot that looked like a ram laid on the table, small enough to fit in a pocket.  

Penny sat down and slowly reached for it. “May I?”  

“I can’t exactly stop you.” Xanthic barked. Penny flinched and recoiled. Xanthic sighed, “Right, I’m suppose to play nice… Yeah go ahead.” Slowly Penny scooped up the broken bits of metal and wire. Cradling it. “It was meant to be a monitoring bot.”  

“You mean spy?”  

“I mean as in a kid’s pet. The current cybernetic pets haven’t been changed in half a decade. It’s boring.”  

“… But a goat?” Winter asked with a raised brow.  

Xan smirked, “Greatest Of All Time.” This time Winter did let out a visible display of distain, along with… some surprise? Penny giggled at the light flush across her face.  

She politely decline the food the serverbots offered. Winter accepted a smaller portion while Xanthic scarfed it down. They continued their neutral banter for a few minute, talking about mundane robots walking around Atlas. Penny tried to focus all her processing power into examining the broken robot, but she kept focusing in on Winter’s voice.  

They were objects, they were supposed to be weapons. Xanthic scoffed and argued, they were flexible tools, with familial potential. The two agreed that robots were things but not on the functions. Penny’s function was to protect, she was a weapon. She was her father’s daughter, family… Her Aura stirred throughout her systems, sinking and sinking like it was trying to unplug her power unit.  

In her palm was a pet… “May I have this?” Penny asked.  

Xanthic looked at her through the glass of her cup and finished inhaling her water. “Sure. I doubt I’ll be able to work on any of my personal stuff now.” She held up her wrist, cuffs shining in the sun.  

The hacker spent the remainder of the 10 minutes packing some clothes and books. Winter looked through both, packing it even neater than Xanthic originally had it.  

The trip for groceries was short and uneventful now that Xanthic was cooperating. Penny almost missed her antagonism. It was entertaining, Penny found herself fiddling with the broken bot, thoughts drifting. The future members of APCX were quiet. Winter had her usual professionalism on but every so often worry would break though when she looked at Penny.  

Robots were tools, not meant to function outside their purpose. According to General Ironwood, she was a protector. According to her father-  

“I lied.” Xanthic said suddenly. Her volume was neutral but after a car ride with soft music it was an abrupt cut in Penny’s thoughts.  

“Surprising.” Winter sneered. It wasn’t as hostile as it was earlier but not as playful as with May or Aro.  

“Me and Glade have… history. That was supposed to be a gift.”  

“Really?” Penny asked. Winter held her Scroll to the facility’s front door and escorted the two VIP’s back to the recreation quarters. “I checked Aro’s files. There was some inconsistences during her internship with my father.”  

“I’ll have to fix that later then.” They were in the same environment nearly five years ago. That was enough confirmation for Penny. She helped Winter put away the food and memorized what they bought. Penny doesn’t eat, Winter isn’t a frequent visitor- though Penny hope that is going to change, so everything is Xanthic’s. She noted a surprising amount of sweets, either mint chocolate or some kind of strawberry flavor. She favored salt and vinegar snacks. The meals her butlerbots packaged was well balanced, most things fresh from her gardens.  

Winter synced the hacker’s cuffs back to the recreational area. Penny pulled the remains of the robot from her pocket… and stared at it. If weapon can’t be intimate with people, what does her time at the Military Event classify as?  

“Penny?” She heard Winter’s whisper shortly before registering a light pressure on her shoulder. She almost jumped. Her Aura ramped her system, nearly triggering a fight response. With concentration Penny was able to calmly look up at the Specialist. “Are you alright? Did the crowds at the store bother you?”  

“No…” It was her and the hacker that troubled Penny. “I’m-” fine. The words stopped in her synthetic vocals. She could feel her Aura swirl in her chest at the lie. “Just thinking. I’m going to gather some tools and materials for this little…”  

“Billy. I’ll send you the software after you fix it.” Xanthic said.  

Penny quickly excited the room, Winter’s hand just hovering there for a few seconds before Penny turned the corner and lost visual of both of them. Weapons can’t be friends. Penny shrank in, hands squeezing tighter and tighter. She ignored the warnings and only focused on the wires tightening in her chest.  

Then the squeezing gave way.  

Six days since her last artificial skin tear, rest to zero.  

Her room was simple, very similar to the workshop back in Atlas Academy. No bed, only an examination table with mechanical arms for maintenance. The drawers were full of tools, parts, or accessories. Things that was on the workbench for weapons. People did not wear artificial skin. The tear was easy to repair, thin layer of sillicone and wires around her index finger was torn clean off.  

A light knock on her door made Penny jump. Xanthic would be stuck in the recreational area, trying to leave would meant a painful shock. Winter… she was Ironwood’s second-in-command, she may have access to most of the facility but-  

Another knock.  

“Y- Yes?” She called out. To her surprised and relief her father opened the door. “You… knocked?”  

“Winter fetched me, told me that you seemed upset,” Dr. Pietro said. His chair slowly walked forward, as if ready to turn on a moment’s notice. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted privacy or not.”  

“Ms. Xanthic is restricted to the living quarters of this facility. Winter would be authorized entrance if allowed here,” Penny said. Pricacy was a human concept. She wasn’t… “My privacy is unnecessary.”  

“That does’t mean you can’t want it,” Dr. Pietro said gently. He looked at Penny’s hands and took a breath. Concern, worry, love. Emotions meant for people. It was easy to read these emotions from her father, yet somehow tiring.  

She was tired of seeing him worry.  

“I’m sorry,” Penny mumbled.  

“Maybe this entire Vytal Festival is a bad idea…” For once, Dr. Pietro’s voice was stern. It wasn’t hard like how the General’s could get but it was so odd hearing him frustrated.  

“No!” Penny yelled. She gasped at her own volume. Dr. Pietro jumped in surprised but he didn’t look mad. In fact he nodded and encouraged Penny to continue. “I want to fight! I want to see Vale.” And after the stories Aro told them during the Military Show, Penny wanted to see Minangire. May told stories about the mountains in Minstral and Winter balked at the heat in Vacuo. She wanted to see the world. Her simulations programs were the most accurate ones developed but nothing compared her own experience.  

Her father looked concern again and Penny made a noise. It was a reflex she hadn’t perform before, that hum of frustration May did so much. Her father looked shocked but smiled and laugh.  

“I’ve never seen you pout before. My, my, one day and you’ve learn so much already,” He said patting Penny’s hand. “And that’s really the General decision to make. And I doubt he’s changing his mind.”  

Penny let him repair the tear in the artificial skin. She made sure to watch, wanting to cherish the moment just as the others cherished their visits to other kingdoms. A moment that was truly hers and not programed into her. A special gel will act as a conduit for the wires and adhesive for the silicone. His hands went to work soothing everything back in place, encouraging the material to bound in a way that wouldn’t leave a mark.  

“I will always worry, my dear,” Dr. Pietro said. “I know you are fully capable of taking care of yourself, but it’s just what fathers do.” The word stirred in Penny’s processors, she hoped it would stick. After all, weapons didn’t have fathers.  

“Then… what do daughters do?”  

Whatever Dr. Pietro had to say wasn’t fully vocalized. Instead the smile dropped for a moment and he sighed. “That depends on the girl,” Dr. Pietro said, “Specialist Schnee chose to leave her family… Family company to protect others.”  

“And… Ms. Xanthic?”  

Dr. Pietro raised a brow, “I think it’d be best if you asked her yourself.”  

Penny flinched at the thought. There was a 2% chance of a pleasant conversation. 95% chance Xanthic would yell at her. Penny left the remaining 3% as open-to-human-nature.  

“I… suppose,” She grumbled. There was a 100% chance of avoiding confrontation with Xanthic if she did not ask.  

Primary Function: Protector Daughter

[nathan-nibs]

Location: Corona Grace Hospital (Nibs’s room)

It was incredible how time could stretch out and slow down as if everything was a strange mixture that clouded the senses. The fight, the trip to the hospital after the beating, the questioning with the police... All things that happened that seemed far away while the gaze was lost by the only entertainment that a pristine and impersonal individual hospital room could offer without reaching the touch of warmth that could resemble a type of temporary alternative home, except for several photos and cards signed with balloons whose surface had typical phrases like 'Get well soon' or 'We miss you'. It was hard even to admit it, but Nibs missed the familiar yet overwhelming bedroom mess that he and Ty shared, it didn't matter if there were clothes everywhere or one could barely walk through it without stepping on something that creaked on the floor, that was his safe place. The food tray rested on the table without having been touched and its contents were cold enough to be passable to eat. Nibs would literally sell his soul for a steaming slice of pizza or a cold soda, or anything that didn't make him feel like a prisoner. Or at least they let him visit Tyler or Sawyer, the medics had only allowed him to hang out temporarily with Peter but that was the end of it. A glance at the pinkie made him remember that despite everything, of all the Lost boys he had been luckier or at least that was the opinion of the man dressed in hospital pajamas. "Fuck ... This isn't fair." A desire to scream and kick everything almost took hold of him except for the door that opened with a soft crack that dispelled bad thoughts for the moment, recognizing the familiar face and those expressive eyes that forced Nibs to adopt a more controlled attitude with a smile. "Hey lil 'birdie. How are you?" In one movement he sat up, extending his arm to point across the room and holding back a groan at the wounds on the body. "Welcome to my sweet prision, although I have nothing more to offer you than to chat." @wcndybird​

[sickah008]

1.

“You’re not okay and that’s okay you’re not obligated to be perfectly fine and that’s perfectly fine”

I saw this poem that had this. It inspired me to type this all out. As I lay here listening to the faint scratching of the record player hit its ends because I can’t get up to turn it off.

Lately days have been tougher than usual. I find myself saying that pretty frequently these days. Since COVID happened I’ve spent most of my nights awake. I find myself watching old videos and looking at old photos I have saved on my phone/laptop. Who I was before to who I am now is a complete flip. Don’t get me wrong I’m still the same person but I wouldn’t want to say my interests are different now... More of it’s this energy stopping me from doing everything I once did before. Nobody really knows who they are. The best way to describe what I’m trying to say is I feel lost while I’m already lost. I’ve been lost trying to find my way and then COVID happened and it just made me even more lost than I already was.

When I look at these pictures I see a small part of me being temporarily happy. Right now, it’s difficult and I don’t even know how to tell my friends. I’ve been hiding from everyone that I started smoking again. No matter how hard I try to kick this stupid habit it doesn’t go. Oh well. What’s worse is, I constantly remember the parties, kickbacks, clubs, concerts, barhopping, etc. that I used to partake in. My body craves to live in any of those moments. I could sit here and go down that path once again and struggle to come back from it or I can sit here and suffer. There’s no winning... Only one has that temporary feeling. The slightest inconvenience I want to drink. No, I’m not an alcoholic. Yes, I have a problem with drinking. Is there a difference? Yes. I sit here thinking about how from senior year constantly being plastered up until I entered therapy school. I turned my life around before it got any worse. I got the help I need, I was the fittest I’ve ever been, the healthiest, and for once it kinda felt like I was starting to find my way in life... for it to just completely fall apart.

There are so many people going through identity crisis’ and figuring out what to do next with their lives. So I shouldn’t sit here and complain and mope around about it. Which is why I’m constantly disappearing. Have I had a few drinks while typing this out. Maybe. Have I been laying on the floor because I don’t have energy to get on my bed. Yes. Is this a cry for help? Not even the slightest bit. I am breaking slowly each day and I don’t know how to stop it. I can feel myself getting deeper in this hole of emptiness and I don’t know how to get out of it. I’ve done it before. But why is it not working anymore? I’m exhausted. Having to hide behind a smile is even more exhausting. I’m exhausted but I’m still trying my very best. But I’m exhausted. Every night when I lay down I fed this weight, this boulder squish me.

The littlest things irritate me. The smallest details in the world haunt my brain. I’m constantly thinking of what I’m possibly fucking up for being in this funk. I don’t know what I’m saying anymore. I don’t even think I hit any of the points I originally wanted to write out but oh well. Maybe we’ll get it right next time.

[willddheartt]

Babylon: Neon Lights | C.H. Chapter Nine: Best Friend

“she is both hellfire and holy water, the flavour you taste depends on how you treat her”

It had been a love-hate relationship between them the entire time they’ve known one another. Nobody could explain, or pinpoint, the anger and hostility between Calum and Cherry every time they were together. At this point, their friends get concerned when there isn’t a passive-aggressive comment made or some type of glare exchanged. They met through mutual friends, who tried to set them up, saying they’re perfect for each other, leaving everyone astonished that something so perfect went so wrong.

DISCLAIMER: SOME PARTS MIGHT BE R RATED !!

Series warnings: Substances (alcohol & cigarettes), Anger (snappy comments), Smut

Series Masterlist

September 4th Labor Day weekend. Well not technically yet, but I didn’t have work for the last two days and Monday the store is closed. We all showed up at Michaels with coolers full of alcohol that would surely go home empty on Monday.  Where it was our first night and the weekend was still young the drinks were light but still enough to have most passed out by 12:00 PM. 

It was shocking how much the moonlight lit up Michael's kitchen as Calum and I sat on the floor, passing a spoon between the pair of us as we dug into a tub of chocolate ice cream.  “I’m not sure,” I shrugged, handing him the spoon, “I mean I know I don’t want to stay working the same job when I’m 40, but I feel stuck. I just don't know how I could get out, you know?” I asked, answering his question on if I was doing something I truly loved.  “It's easy to get out you know,” Calum said, “Sure it seems hard when you just think about it and before you do it. But once you’re actually out it's the best thing you’ll do,” He added   “What about you?” I asked, “Is this something you love doing?” He nodded, passing the spoon my way, “Sure it's crazy and being an online presence is stressful sometimes but I wouldn't trade it. The band is the best thing I ever did,” He spoke.  “How’s it feel knowing any of the fans would probably jump on the chance of being your friend? The legal ones,” I asked  “I think some of them just say that because they know a version of myself I want them to.” 

“Mmm, I have a good one,” Calum said holding his hand up as he talked, “Your passions, tell me about them.”  I shrugged, “I don't know, I don't like saying one thing is a passion or a hobby then having people expect me do those things,”  “Okay, then what do you do when you’re not with us, or when you’re alone?” Calum rephrased  “I make what some would like to call art, doodles and some poetry, but that is something I keep for myself, I don't ever share it. I like having my secrets, even from people close to me, its my way of staying myself. But I also take photos, sometimes if I need some extra cash, I’ll sell some prints or take photos for someone but that doesn't happen a lot. When money gets involved it feels more like a job than something I enjoy doing.” I explained, noticing how Calum’s dark brows knit together as he listened to what I was saying, nodding to indicate he got it all. “Your turn, what are your hobbies?” I asked turning his question on himself 

As Calum explained what he does in his free time, I realized neither of us knew that much about each other, and that we were just as deep as the other. There were different levels and layers. That of an onion or an ogre. 

Though I was paying attention and trying my hardest to keep my focus on his words, the dark abyss that was his eyes captivated me. In any lighting Calum's eyes looked almost blacker than any darkness night could come up with, but in the pale moonlight, you could faintly see the outline of his pupil in his iris. Naturally his eyes were beautiful, just like everything else about Calum, but tonight it was consuming, how beautiful his eyes were.

I fell so far into the dark pools that I almost missed his next question, “What was your high school experience like?”  I laughed at the question, “Really?” I asked.  Calum nodded, “I know you know mine, but I don’t know much about you in school and I want to,”  “Nobody knows about it, I don’t flaunt it. High school wasn’t an exciting experience for me and I’ve mostly left it behind. I changed everything about myself when I left, name, hair colour, everything. I was alone most of the time and spent way too much time thinking about leaving and getting out. Sleeping my teenage years away.”  “Now you have us, I think your high school self would be proud,” Calum smiled. I nodded, “I would be.” I chucked “Although, I’m still mad I never got to have the high school cliche of slow dancing with my boyfriend at a school dance,”  “You’ve never slow danced?” Calum asked, astounded  I nodded, “I didn’t go to dances.” 

Calum jumped up to his feet, holding his hand out to me, “I'm going to change that right now,” He said, pulling me up once I grabbed his hand.  “Now?” I asked, “But there no music,”  “There will be,” Calum said, pulling me into him as he started humming a slow song.  I wrapped my arms around his neck as he held my waist, humming close to my ear. Calum swayed us slowly from side to side as he slowly moved us in a circle. 

A few minutes later when Calum pulled back he smiled, “How was that?” He asked  “It was nice,” I smiled 

-

The entire weekend went by in a slow blur. I vaguely remembered things from the days, but few from the night. It was like a weekend long bender. I spent most days tipsy and smoking, Calum by my side doing the same. Violet left Sunday morning to spend the remainder of the weekend with Travis.  The 72 hours of drinking and laughs came to an end when Monday rolled around, leaving me bedridden with a terrible hangover. 

My skull felt like it was being gripped by the hands of a giant, one who was too friendly to crush it but who also wanted to cause temporary pain. When I stumbled into the apartment the first thing I did was draw the curtains shut before grabbing a bottle of water and debating the thought of taking more than the recommended amount of aspirin.  Sleeping most of Monday away. I didn’t even hear when Violet came home in the afternoon, or the countless messages that dinged on my phone with photos and videos from the weekend that was probably full of bad and stupid ideas. 

September 8th Thankfully, the hangover from hell only lasted a day and by  I had the afternoon, or closing, shift, leaving me folding up the clothes and cleaning up the store from the people in the morning. Something I didn’t mind in all honesty. 

As I hid away folding a pile of men's dress pants back in the dressing rooms, I kept my phone on me since the manager was never in for closing shifts.  Calum and I were talking my entire shift, laughing over the weekend, talking about what we were doing tonight and eventually coming up with pizza at his place after I got off. I smiled to myself, tucking my phone back in my pocket, knowing he didn’t have just pizza in mind. Since we had distinguished our friends with benefits type of relationship, I was over at his place almost every night but Wednesday and Friday. 

When I came into work at one, I was unable to cover the marks on my neck that were a memory of the weekend we just had, and everyone gave me hell for it. Thankfully the manager wasn’t in or I would have got it worse then I already did. Sure our friends knew about Calum and I but when Rylee from the shop saw the dark purple marks peeking up from the collar of my t-shirt and lost it, rapid firing multiple questions, much like Violet did but less personal towards the person who left them. 

Although my shift was only five hours it felt like nine. When I walked into Calum’s apartment, I dropped my purse at the door, kicking my shoes off and dramatically laid down on the couch.  “Long day?” He chuckled from the kitchen, as he brought the box of pizza and our drinks over to the table in the living room “You wouldn't even believe it,” I sighed, sitting up when Calum handed me a glass of soda. 

“You got a little something right, there.” He smirked, pointing to his neck  “Every cover up attempt I tried this morning failed so they stayed,” I laughed  “Boss say anything?”  I shook my head, “They’re normally not in for the afternoon shifts,”  “What I'm getting from that statement is, when you work in the afternoons and stay over we can spend more time cuddling.” Calum smirked  I laughed, “Sure, Cal,” 

The pizza box laid closed on the coffee table, having been finished long ago. Calum laid in between my legs as we watched t.v. I absentmindedly ran my fingers through his hair. Everything about this was not your traditional FWB scenario, we did more than fuck, most times he greets me with a kiss either to my cheek or by pressing one to my lips, and most mornings we cuddle. It's more than a recurring night stand. 

Calum turned over so he was low looking at me, a small smile still tugging at the corners of his lips, one that didn't seem to leave tonight.  “Sup?” I asked softly  “Nothin,” He smiled, “You’re pretty though,”  “So are you,” I replied, bringing the hand that was running through his hair down to hold his chin, bringing him up so I could peck his lips. 

One kiss turned into another, and then another until we were making out on the couch. Calum sat back, pulling me to sit up with him as he pulled me onto his lap. My hands roamed over his body, from his shoulders down his chest, and under his shirt. Once I started tugging on the hem of his shirt and slowly pushing it up, Calum pulled away quickly to remove the article of clothing, quickly connecting our lips back and slipping his tongue in my mouth. 

One kiss, two kiss, red kiss, blue kiss, and my shirt had come off along with my jeans. His hands came down to the waistband of my underwear, he smiled into the kiss against my neck once he noticed the little bat print, looking up at me, “Batman?”  I nodded, with a sheepish smile as a slight blush crept up onto my cheeks, up until this point he had only seen my nice lacy panties.  “Cute,” Calum mumbled before capturing my lips again, slipping a hand past the waistband of my batman underwear, chuckling when an involuntary squeak of surprise slips past my lips when his fingers swiped at my heat.  “Love catching you off guard,” He teased as I tugged his bottom lip between my teeth  “Listen, I know you’re going for slow here but could you get on with it?” I breathed out.  “Is that your way of asking for me to get on with it and fuck you?” Calum laughed as I nodded, sucking on the side of his neck.