#cause his own division got a little weird with him after he started using his auger‚ and he doesn't want that again. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lovelylogans · 1 year ago

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the parent trap

CHAPTER NINE: to defeat... the family civil divisions of napa and london respectively!

The boys plot. The world all over ought to be trembling in fear.

⁂

Roman gets it into his head that they ought to do a picnic.

“Dad and I go on picnics a lot back home,” Roman says. “There’s even that little fake beach by the lake, it would be perfect—��

It’s a nice enough idea, and frankly Remus is always down to rob the kitchens, so he agrees; he gets a plastic grocery bag, fills it up with goods, meets with Roman by the basketball court, and they make their way down to the fake beach.

Roman deflates.

There’s already a flock of over-fourteens there. Juniper and Hemlock, it looks like, so even older—around fifteen to seventeen. They holler and horse around and generally don’t seem to appreciate the beauty of nature around them.

“I guess it’s taken,” Roman says.

“Screw that,” Remus says, “you want to watch the sunset over the lake, don’t you?”

“Well—yes, but—”

And so Remus swaggers up to the group of boys.

“Isolation cabin’s claiming the beach tonight.”

There’s a chorus of laughter.

“Yeah?” One boy says, who seems to be the de-facto speaker of the group.

“Me,” Remus says. “We’re staying here either way. So either we can make our peace and you can ignore us and go, or you can stay here causing trouble and get spotted by one of the counselors.”

“Why should they care?”

“Because no one’s supposed to talk to us. There was a whole announcement about it: leave Isolation alone. You don’t want to get in trouble with the Marvins, do you?” Remus says pointedly.

The boys snicker at the thought.

“Fine,” Remus says. “You don’t want to get in trouble with me, then. You saw what I did to Marvins and the Maples—just wait to see what I’ll do to you.”

The boys weigh this. Then:

“God, it’s so lame—whatever, freak,” the de facto leader scoffs, starting the exile, and the campers scatter off after him.

“Right call!” Remus shouts after their backs, which makes a few of the boys pick up their pace.

“There,” Remus says, plopping himself down in the lounge chair. “Fake beach to ourselves—what?”

Because Roman’s just staring at him.

“I think you must just have a complete lack of shame,” he says. “Or decorum. Or—”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I’m a freak of nature,” Remus says comfortably. “Are you gonna picnic with me and watch the sunset like you wanted or not?”

Roman considers this. Then, primly, he settles himself on on a lounger.

“Thanks,” he says quietly.

“No prob,” Remus says, already digging through their makeshift picnic basket. “You want peanut butter and jelly or peanut butter and marshmallow fluff? What am I saying—”

“Jelly,” they chorus together, and Remus hands over the sandwich, muttering “yeah yeah yeah, and I’m the weird one.”

⁂

“Say advertisement.“

“Ad-ver-tiz-ment.”

“Say aluminum.”

“Aluminum.”

“Wrong!”

Remus, held in a bridal carry by his brother, is dunked back into the water and brought up, as if they’re playing the Categories game in the pool rather than the Perfect Your Accent Or Get Water Forcibly Up Your Nose game.

“Try again,” Roman says.

“All-ooh-min-ee-yum.” Remus sighs. “Extra syllable. Right. All-ooh-min-ee-yum, got it.”

“Better,” Roman says. “Now ears.”

“Ears,” Remus says. “Ears ears ears ears ears.”

“Still all wrong!” Roman says, and dunks him for good measure.

“Ugh, I’m never gonna get that one,” Remus complains as soon as he surfaces. “Why do you have to pronounce ears so weird?!”

They’re interrupted by a cleared throat.

Paddling near them, keeping a lookout on the lifeguard, is Nick. He’s somehow managed to lay hands on sunglasses that are patterned with tie-dye at the edges. It actually looks really cool.

“...oh,” Remus says, and Roman lets him down so he can stand in the shallow end with his own two feet. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Nick mutters. “Uh… sorry about the whole. Y’know.”

“Exile?”

“Yeah,” Nick says. “Teagan feels bad, too. Like, we helped with all of that.”

Remus shrugs. “I masterminded it.”

“...sorry about the whole… y’know, James,” Nick adds, when he sees Roman standing near them.

“Why?” Roman says, then, nodding to Remus, “He isn’t.”

“That’s right, I’m sure not,” Remus says cheerfully. “If anything, I should have gone way harder with messing up Maple cabin, now that I know they would’ve just kicked us into the middle of the woods.”

They all stand in quiet, for a moment, in the pool.

“I know I can’t really talk to you here, but we can probably talk when we’re at home. Penpals?” Nick says.

Remus smiles. Just a bit.

“Sure. Penpals.”

“You too, James,” Nick says. “If you want. Whatever you did to his shoes was freakin’ hilarious.”

“Oh!” Roman says, looking surprised. “Erm—all right, sure. We can write.”

“Oh, I forgot about that,” Remus says, then, “get over here, Roman, I’m dunking you under for that—”

Roman turns tail and swims quickly away, Remus chasing after him and laughing, and Nick must make his exit when Remus isn’t looking.

⁂

“What’s your school like?”

Remus turns to Roman; their beds are pushed together again, their respective bears tucked under their arms.

“Do you get to ride a big yellow school bus?” Roman says curiously. “Or are those only for TV?”

“No—I mean, we ride them sometimes, like, to field trips and stuff,” Remus says. “But Virgil or Pa usually drives me to school.”

“Oh,” Roman says, deflating.

“You want to go on a school bus?”

“They’re in so many movies!” Roman says.

“It’s a bus, Roman,” Remus says. “I know you have buses in England. You have, like, really famous buses in England. Do you ever ride those double-decker things?”

“Very rarely.”

“Ha! See?” Remus says. “Do they rent those out for British field trips, too? Hey, what is British school like?”

“Oh,” Roman says, visibly foundering in a way that makes Remus narrow his eyes.

“What’s that face?”

“What face? Erm—it’s just school, I suppose. It must be very like American school.”

Remus pokes Roman in the cheek. Again. And again. And—

“Okay, ow!”

“The face!” Remus says. “You made a face!”

“All right!” Roman says. “All right. I like my classes just fine. My classes are nice.”

Roman wavers.

“But?” Remus prompts.

“...but,” Roman sighs, then, squirming. “I dunno. I don’t think people like me much. I don’t have many friends”

Remus sits up in outrage.

“That’s not possible!”

“What?”

“You not having friends! Not being liked! You’re all—all artsy and talented and stuff, of course people are gonna like you!”

“You didn’t like me when we first met, and we’re literally brothers.”

“I—” Remus flounders. “That’s different. What the hell is going on over there?”

Roman shrugs, plucking nervously at some imaginary piece of thread in his sheets.

“Roman,” Remus says, poking his shoulder. “Ro-man.”

“...there’s this guy,” Roman mutters.

“I knew it,” Remus hisses, even though he hadn’t previously known anything about Roman’s schooling since five minutes ago.

“Richard Davies,” Roman begins.

“Hate him already.”

Roman gives him a Look. Remus quiets down.

“Richard Davies… I dunno. He was new to the area, like two or three years ago, but his dad and mum donate a lot of money to the school, so he gets away with a whole lot, and he’s on all the sports team, and I guess he just hates me.”

Remus is swearing eternal enmity with one Richard Davies.

“And since he’s on all the sports team, he made a lot of friends, and I mean—I was friendly with other people, but we weren’t friends, so when Richard Davies said Oi, James, and said I was out… it was easy for them to make the choice. I was out.”

“Jackasses,” Remus mutters angrily.

“That’s part of why Dad sent me all the way to camp here,” Roman says. “So I’d’ve done something fun over the summer, something I can talk about in school, so I could maybe learn some new things and make a new friend…”

“I’m your friend,” Remus says, and Roman throws his arms around Remus’s neck, pulling him in for a hug.

“You don’t count,” Roman mutters. “You’re my brother.”

The way he’s squeezing Remus so tightly begs to differ.

⁂

“Hey! Hey, uh—no one in particular!”

Roman pauses from where they’re walking by the football field—he absolutely refuses to refer to it under the American name unless he’s pretending to be Remus—and looks over.

Most of Maple is there; some have dispersed to drink water, others are running pass plays between them, just generally dawdling between matches.

Remus frowns. “I’m gonna go get some water. Yell if you need me.”

“Sure,” Roman says, and watches Remus go to the water fountain, and Asher runs up, huffing and puffing, a football under his arm.

“Hey,” Asher says, quiet. “Uh—everything going good? He’s not being terrible, is he?”

“No, actually,” Roman says. “It took us getting locked in the cabin during that rainstorm, but, um. I think we really get along.”

“That’s good,” Asher says. “I mean, weird. But good for you, I guess.”

There’s some more silence.

“We’re gonna miss you during this soccer game,” Asher says. “Monroe sucks as a striker.”

“Screw you, Asher!” floats down from further in the field.

“Yeah, he kinda does.” Roman says.

“You too, James!”

They both ignore him.

“...if we don’t talk, I bet you guys can play,” Asher says. “The Marvins didn’t say anything about playing together. Just talking.”

A little smile breaks out on Roman’s face.

“Yeah,” he says. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay!” Asher says eagerly, then, shouting, “HEY, JUST DON’T TALK TO THEM, WE CAN GET ROMAN AND REMUS IN HERE AND THEY CAN EVEN OUT THE TEAMS!!! JUST NO TALKING!!!”

Maple cheers, beckoning them over, and Remus knocks his head against Roman’s shoulder before they run in together to join the fray.

He probably should’ve insisted Remus go on the other team; he’s absolutely rubbish at football.

⁂

“Okay,” Roman says, popping out of the closet. “How’s this?”

Remus looks Roman up and down, reviewing the outfit Roman’s picked from Remus’s belongings—a tie-dye shirt, striped shorts, his sunglasses hanging from the neck of his shirt.

“Not bad!” Remus says approvingly. “Wait, say it in the accent, though.”

Roman clears his throat, and makes himself speak a bit more nasally in the Californian accent. “How’s this?”

“There we go!” Remus says, and he disappears into the bathroom, too, to select a test outfit for their test day.

Roman has to send him back during his first attempt—he picks clashing patterns, as if that’s something Roman would do—but eventually Remus emerges in a breezy red top, black shorts, and red butterfly clips in his hair.

“Much better,” Roman says in an American accent.

“Simply stunning, darling,” Remus says in a British one, spinning around.

“Okay,” Roman says. “So—we can’t break character, all day. We each go off and do our own thing, and we have to pinky-promise that we say if we get found out and why. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Remus says, then, at the look on his face, changes his voice back to match Roman’s. “I mean—absolutely right!”

They link pinkies; Remus squeezes, hard, and Roman winces just a bit.

“Good luck,” Roman says, crossing his arms over his chest and crossing his fingers, the same way he’s seen Remus do.

“Best of luck, Remus,” Remus says with a wink, and he begins to take a meandering path down to the cafeteria.

Roman takes a deep breath, and he spends some time messing up his hair just so.

When enough time has passed for him to be appropriately late to pass for Remus, he starts his swaggeringly slow descent to meet Remus in the mess hall.

Remus nods to Roman, fork and knife in hand, politely cutting up bits and pieces of eggs and putting manageable bites in his mouth.

Roman takes a breath before he reaches out and grabs food off of Remus’s plate, sticking out his tongue even as Remus pretends to protest.

When he’s sure no one’s looking, Remus winks at him.

Roman smiles to himself, even as he feels the awful sensation of scrambled eggs squished between his fingers.

Yeah. They’ve got this.

⁂

“Okay, for my activity, since we did your picnic—are you ready for this? I don’t think you’re ready for this.”

“I’m ready!”

Remus sings out a little dun-duh-duh-DAHH! as he presents his bounty: a bag stuffed with a projector, its associated speakers, snacks, and a multitude of DVDs.

“Where’d you even get that?” Roman says, awed.

“Doesn’t matter,” Remus says breezily. “If they didn’t want us to steal, they shouldn’t encourage kitchen looting. I’ll put it back. Listen—Virgil will totally catch on if you don’t know these references, so it’s time to study up!”

Roman’s already pawing through the collection of DVDs. “Scream… A Nightmare on Elm Street… Candyman… Alien and Aliens… Night of the Living Dead… Invasion of the Body Snatchers… Psycho… Beetlejuice—”

“Don’t say his name three times!”

“Remus, watching these is going to take us all night!”

“That’s why I brought so much sugar!” Remus says excitedly. “C’mere, help me string up one of the sheets for a screen, we’re totally starting with Beetlejuice, you’re totally gonna love it—you like Winona Ryder, don’t you?”

“I love Winona Ryder!” Roman says brightly.

Remus is pleased he’s managed to lull Roman into a false sense of security for their night of terrors.

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#my fic #my fanfic #tpt fic

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omiscurls · 4 years ago

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omi doesn’t like flowers

sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader fluff

cw: the reader has a little sibling, i hope nobody minds, there’s one line of very slightly implied nsfw, you won’t even notice

meant for kiyoomi’s birthday! happy b-day to my favorite boy <3

one of the first things you’ve learnt about your boyfriend, even before your relationship started, is that he rarely shared personal information with anyone. he’d go as far as put up a fake birthday on his social media to avoid the awkward wishes and tons of yet another gifts from fans he so didn’t like going through. apart from that, there was a lot of weird things going on with birthdays, in his opinion: for instance people automatically thinking about zodiac sign or assuming other things, insisting to have a party, (a surprise one was his biggest nightmare) and a whole lot of other stuff he found appalling.

so it was just simply easier to say his birthday is “mid november” and get on with his life as if he didn’t just straight up lie. and truth be told, many times had you heard that “oh, in summer” or “right before christmas” before you got to know the truth. it wasn’t that easy on its own, but ever since his first little white lie, you knew he wasn’t true with you, and kept insisting, until he finally pulled you to the side and told you his real date of birth, the one only komori, atsumu, and, as he used to say, “unfortunately” his family knew.

march 20th was the date, and since you wanted to tease him, a grin appeared on your face before you mumbled “so a pisces, huh?” and earned a glare so cold and deadly, you visibly shivered before apologizing.

the next thing you learned about him and his birthday, was that he was picky about gifts. which went well with that “i’m an old fashioned gentleman” facade, because he could just say “oh, you don’t have to buy me anything. your company will be enough” with a slight smile he’d practice for years, and people thought he was just being humble and polite. spoiler alert: he wasn’t. he just didn’t want to deal with his own pickiness, and explaining to people what precisely would he like to get was too much trouble, and took away the magic of it even for someone as blunt as kiyoomi sakusa.

it’s not like birthdays were such a big deal for him, anyway, he didn’t need any gifts or parties to celebrate the fact that he just got one year older. what was so fun about that? but like the pain in the arse you were, you kept asking him what he wanted for the occassion way before he asked you out, and he hated it, but not more than he hated the way his heart jumped at the possibility of getting something you spent your time on.

the first year of your friendship, you got to know the basic thing: omi doesn’t like gifts. gifts make him uncomfortable, he didn’t know what to say, how to act, what to do with it... does he open it right then and there, or wait, but why would he immediately thank someone if he doesn’t even open it? schroedinger’s cat: if he doesn’t open it, it might as well be thin air inside the box.

it was confusing, and weird. you also learnt that it was all caused by the fact that no one was in the house to celebrate young omi’s birthday back in his childhood days, since his parents were working and his siblings long away in college, so he just assumed it was a holiday to be overlooked and not dwelled too much on, and got so used to it, that now it bothered him to be in the center of attention for once.

the third thing you learnt that year: it was almost impossible to find him a good enough gift, at least from your perspective. you spent literal hours at the store, looking at the different things he might’ve wanted, but nothing caught your eye. you called all his friends, yet he hadn’t mentioned the thing he’d like to anyone, not even komori. so you decided you’d go with instinct and remembered one cold morning when he showed up to practice grumpier than usual, and when he was asked what’s wrong, he answered:

“i woke up late and didn’t have time to make coffee”, half mumbling, half actually speaking, eyes too tired to be annoyed, legs slowly sweeping one before another as if he was forced to come here. And that’s where you got your idea.

His first birthday with you, being his 21st, had started terribly, because it was wishes from his family. He’d told you multiple times he’d rather have them forget that send those copied off the internet lines that mean less than a “go fuck yourself”

later on atsumu insisted or telling everyone and it took poor omi more than twenty minutes to convince him not to, and as both the setter and the spiker weren’t in their top moods nor form, MSBY lost a match they had that day. so all he wanted to do march 20th 2017 when he came home was to lay flat on his couch and play with his dog’s fur while watching a crappy TV show. he most definitely didn’t expect you sitting in front of his apartment’s door, tired, almost asleep.

he sighed, approching you and slightly nudging your foot with his, making you shake your head and look up.

“you’re back!” you said with a smile, and he raised an eyebrow.

“and you look like a homeless person” he responded upsentmindedly, avoiding you to reach the door lock. only after you got up did he see a small package you held behind your back. “it’s not a right day to be celebrating me, y/n” he added, opening his apartment’s door and letting you in with a hand gesture. you went inside, not for the first time ever, but every time the feeling was the same, intimidating and cold.

“why do you think that?” you said, taking off your shoes and putting them on a rack, and turning around to see him navigate you to the bathroom. you placed your bag and the gift on the floor before following his steps.

“didn’t you see the match? i fucked up big time” he chuckled ironically, looking at himself in the mirror, and you could witness the disappointment and anger in his eyes.

“so every time you guys win and you get the credit, you say that volleyball is a team sport, but if you loose, suddenly it’s your fault?” you smirked, but to your surprise he nodded.

“precisely”.

“well, regardless, it’s a minor set back. you’re still the best they make” you tried to cheer him up, but only received an eye roll in return. “aaaand, you’re a birthday boy today!”

“don’t remind me” he sighed, walking over to the kitchen to see what he can make for dinner for himself and his uninvited guest, meanwhile you grabbed your gift and walked up right behind him, tapping his shoulder lightly.

“happy 21″ you whispered, a slight, soft smile on your lips, as you handed him the package. he looked at you with a tired look in his eyes.

“you know i’m not the biggest fan of gifts”

“just open it, grumpy face” you whined, and he gently took it from you, placing it on the counter and carefully unwraping it, to see a thermal mug. he sent you a questioning look, before you explained “you were complaining about not having enough time to drink coffee before leaving, right? well now you don’t have to drink it before leaving”

there was silence for a long while before he looked up from the mug and gave you the softest smile you’ve ever seen. “that’s so thoughtful of you” he said, and laughed a tiny bit, probably to cover his emotion, which obviously didn’t work “thank you.”

omi likes thoughtful gestures.

over the second year of your friendship, as he and his career gained more recognition from the public, he was “forced”, as he’d reffer to it, to share such a personal information that is his birthday date. the managers always claimed that it’s not a big deal, that it’s just gonna be added to the oficial page and his wikipedia, but judging from the amount of gifts atsumu, bokuto and hinata always received, he had his reason to doubt that.

and as it turned out, he was right.

because starting from march 10th, his personal mailbox as well as the oficial MSBY’s mailbox has been FLOODED with different things that he really had no energy to go over. and so, he invited one of his best friends to help.

so it was late at night on march 19th, and you were both sitting on the floor of his apartment, a mess of ripped wrapping paper all around you, loads of different stuff laying on the table, as you still had a lot of things to open.

“what even is the point in sending presents to someone you’ve never met? i mean less to them than their neigbour’s dog and yet i’m the one getting gifts? this is messed up” he kept on complaining, opening another package.

“it’s called being famous, sakusa-kun. you mean very much to people you’ve never met, because your journey to where you are now inspires them to keep going on their path until they reach their dreams” you said with a smile, confident it’ll ease his worries, but it didn’t.

“don’t know if i consider being in the Jackals my dream, though”

“you mean, you don’t think being a key player in a division one team is not a dream come true?” you asked, shocked.

“no, no, of course i think it is, i’d never thought i’d reach this far, but, there’s more things to be done, it’s not like i’m an accomplished person just yet”

that, you found interesting.

“really? than what are your dreams, sakusa?” you asked in a low voice, eyes fixed on his face, as he focused on reading a letter in his hands.

“national team” he murmured “MVP, a golden medal, a legacy that goes beyond just me” he opened up as if it was nothing, as if he was talking about his grocery list “but that all wouldn’t mean a thing if i were there alone, though. i’ve received plenty awards and mvp’s over the few years that i played, but i guess what would really matter, and make everything else worth remembering, would be... having someone be proud of me, i guess”

you felt your heart getting soft and fuzzy at the confession, wanting to respond, before he handed you the note he was silently reading.

“this is a poem, y/n, a POEM! what the hell, i don’t even understand what’s going on there” he whined, throwing his head back to rest on the couch seat, as you giggled, reading the note.

“it’s nice” you said in a high-pitched tone, pushing down a laugh.

“it’s too... sophisticated” he uttered, looking at you, a tired look in his eyes. “that’s my mother’s thing, to be sophisticated, i like simpler wishes, they’re easier to believe”

omi doesn’t like fancy words.

you nodded, but before you could say anything, your phone rang, and both of you looked at the screen. the hour on display marked midnight, and as the alarm ranged, the words “omi’s b-day!!!” appeared on the screen. he smiled subconsciously, noticing how you always address him as “sakusa” or “sakusa-kun” but the notif in your phone stated “omi”.

“looks like it’s the 20th already, birthday boy” you grinned, turning off the alarm.

“don’t call me that, what am i, six or something?”

you decided to ignore the comment, and smiled at him warmly before speaking, almost under your own breath:

“happy 22, sakusa. i wish you only to be here to hear me say happy 23 next year. and say so with pride.”

his eyes appeared foggy and glossy, but it was probably fault of poor lighting and tiredness.

“why stop at 23?” he asked, before standing up, and offering you his hand to pick you up, too.

omi likes very real wishes.

over the third year of your friendship you became very close. ever since that night on his living room floor, both of you couldn’t wrap your minds about anything other than each other. neither of you oblivious idiots found out what it was about, but day after day and month after month it was harder and harder to spend time apart.

before he could notice, sakusa always tried to find you in the crowd before serving, and that’s how he always used up most of his time. once, he even heard ushijima complain “how much longer are you going to take? be a man and beat me without your good luck charm!”

his good luck charm, huh?

you kinda liked the sound of that.

you also found yourself texting him every random thought that came to your head, sending pictures of everything, becasue you wanted to share as much of your life as possible, meeting up whenever you could and facetiming whenever you couldn’t.

it all started to go downhill when atsumu, bokuto and hinata started noticing. noticing the way he’d smile at his phone, the way he’d wink, smile, tease, joke, speak, even the way his eyes wondered when left unfocused, and a dreamy look covered his vision.

and they started to tease, and joke, and make his life all more difficult, just because “omi has a crush!”

because he didn’t. right? he didn’t have a crush on you, for sure, and it only annoyed him, how childish they were about it, how insufferable. they got on his nerves so bad that he stopped responding to all the messages, stopped smiling, joking around, and all, just to prove his point,

his point he knew was no longer standing.

and so atsumu would ask, after one of their practices, “hey omi, is your lucky charm picking you up? some birthday dinner, maybe?” he’d nudge his side with an elbow, raising his eyebrows.

“i don’t know” he mumbled “and stop calling them that”. the brunette kept looking for something in his bag, just to avoid atsumu’s tiring, curious glance.

“fine then, how about your significant other?” he continued teasing. it’s not like sakusa would hate that scenario, of course he wouldn’t, yet his mind kept spiraling - what if you came in and heard that? what if you assumed he was calling you that behind your back?

what if you didn’t feel the same?

“stop butting in my relationships for once, miya! how many times am i supposed to tell you i’m not in any way romantically involved with them? i don’t even like them that much!” he lied, straight in his best friend’s face, fed up with all the jokes and smirks behind his back, and judging from atsumu’s shocked expression, and the color running away from his face, it worked.

“what, don’t you have anything to say to me now?” he kept going, before atsumu shook his head, and pointed behind kiyoomi’s back wordlessly. the spiker raised an eyebrow, turning around to see you, in the flash, eyes wide open, a tiny little package in your hands, wrapped so neatly in colorful paper, with a little bow tie at the top.

even from a distance he could already half see, half imagine tears prickling your eyes before you smiled sadly, dropped the box from your hand and let it fall to the floor, and began walking out of the gym room.

“no, no no, y/n, wait!” he started shouting out, but your ears seemed deaf to his pleas, as he ran up to the door you just walked through, leaving atsumu alone, but with a condescending smile.

“i don’t like them that much my ass, omi-kun” he whispered to himself before walking over to grab his things.

meanwhile sakusa ran out to the reception room of the stadium, but as it turned out, it was filled with fans waiting for them all to come out, so they could wish him happy birthday, and it seemed impossible to get through the crowd and reached you, especially considering you were already at the exit door.

he looked around himself and noticed all the people, how many of them were there, and how close to him, and got paralyzed in place, wanting to move, or disappear, that’d be for the best, and yet he couldn’t even move one foot.

soon enough he felt a hand on his shoulder, guiding him back inside, his savior apologizing to the public.

“sorry guys, we have one more thing to go through! he’ll be out shortly” atsumu laughed off, before closing the door and handing omi the gift you left.

the spiker mindlessly opened it, only to find out a spotify code inside, put in between a glass frame. he took out his phone from the bag and scanned it with his app, gasping audiably when the page loaded.

lay back in the arms of someone by smokie showed up on his screen, and a smile crawled up his lips before he remembered how badly he fucked this up a second ago.

he narrowed his eyebrows before looking up to find the blond setter’s eyes.

“atsumu” his friend’s eyes widened in surprise upon hearing his first name, instead of surname “is there a back exit from here?”

atsumu miya smirked.

“bet ya there is, mr i-fucked-up-big-time” he answered, theatrically offering his hand, before taking the lead.

you on the other hand, came home peacefully, although hot tears were streaming silently down your cold cheeks as you entered the apartment’s door and looked at the calendar, showing the date of march 20th. in a sudden wave of aggression you ripped it off, knowing that there’s nothing to be so pressed about: he had no duty of feeling the same way towards you, why would you even expect it?

you went on with your day, ordering takeout for dinner, snuggling up on your couch and rewatching a series, not granting your thoughts access to yourself, and it was really going well, until you heard the doorbell ring.

“nobody’s home” you yelled, assuming it was either atsumu or bokuto on their way to cheer you up, and they’ll probably let themselves in as soon as they hear your voice, but that didn’t happen. instead, the doorbell kept on ringing. “ugh, just come in!”

they didn’t come in, so you lifted yourself off the couch and walked over to the door, opening it and gasping a tiny bit when instead of your dumbass friends holding McDonald’s you saw a one hundred and ninety two centimeters tall figure of a man, struggling to catch his breath, leaning on your doorframe, his black coat unbuttoned, cheeks red, eyes puffy and hair in a mess, not even gelled into place as they always are.

“can i help you?” you asked in a cold manner, voice sending daggers into his poor, confused heart, as he finally looked up to meet your glance, an apologetic look in his eyes when he tried to form a sentence.

“i think i can... no, way, i think i might...” he kept struggling, to which you only rolled your eyes, waiting for the continuation of that sentence.

“spit it out, sakusa” you stated, sending shivers down his spine with how annoyed you seemed.

yeah, spit it out, sakusa, he thought to himself before taking a breath and finally speaking up correctly:

“i think i might be in love with you.”

your eyes widened for a second as you tried to find evidence of honesty in his expression, tone, voice, because you definitely didn’t believe his words.

his heart dropped when you scoffed.

“i don’t need your pity”

that’s when it hit him:

omi doesn’t like to spend his birthday without you. you make it not only bearable, but fun.

in fact, he never wanted to spend it without you again. and as that realization made it’s way into his brain, he caught you closing your door.

“i respect you too much to pity you” he spat out as he placed his hand in between the door and the frame, making you unable to close it, even if you wanted to.

and there was the honesty you looked for.

“then why—” you started to wonder, but he shook his head before interrupting, a helpless look across his face.

to lay back in the arms of someone

“i’m afraid of... of this, okay? i’m afraid of falling in love, if this is any explanation for you. it’s like... you make me feel as if i’m on the top of the world” he laughed nervously, making you raise your eyebrows, before continuing “and it’s fucking scary to imagine falling from that high”

you give in to the charms of someone

his glance wondered all over your face to find crumbs of understanding, scared you’d laugh his confession off, a grimace of worry replacing the insecure smile painting his lips, and he was just one step away from shouting “i’m telling the truth!” at you, but you cut him off by opening your door fully, and welcoming him inside with a warm smile on your lips, and a reassuring sentence on your tongue.

happy 23rd, kiyoomi

“i think i might love you back”

omi likes feeling loved.

the next year flew by on both of you pushing each other’s limits, challenging each other like the both of you always needed, being there for each other, finding out how nice it feels to have someone there. it was coming home with a sore throat after a night of yelling “one more point, omi-omi!”. it was carefully intertwining your pinkies together while shopping without even realizing. it was awkward dates, because the label “date” always changes the atmosphere. it was taking weird selfies, it was having to part for out-of-town games and facetiming from hotel rooms. it was butterflies in the stomach and a ball of fluff in mind.

it was everything.

the first year of your official relationship flew by in no time, kiyoomi finding new joy in his birthday since now it was really a day to be remembered, marking your anniversary.

and just as you got home to his apartment after dinner, ready to unpack all the fanmail once again, the janitor of the building stopped you.

“sakusa-san, there was a flower delievery for you” he sighed, going towards a locked shelf and coming back with a bouquet, at which kiyoomi stared for a whole five seconds before you decided to take it.

“thank you for taking care of it” he muttered with a slight bow, you pushing him to go up the stairs. “who’s it from?” he’d ask you a minute later, halfway through the staircase.

“don’t you wanna check yourself?” you asked, but he frantically shook his head.

“check it for me, please”

omi doesn’t like flowers.

you nodded wordlessly before checking a card.

“well if i’m not mistaken this is your surname” you furrowed, struggling to read the handwriting. in your defense, the kanji for “sakusa” are quite complicated.

he looked over at the text before admitting “yeah, that’s from my aunt, she insists on sending those ever since i got into MSBY” he finally got to his door to unlock it “kinda sad how she didn’t even bother writing a text before” he chuckled, making you want to throw the flowers away.

you knew he considered them worthless if that’s the story behind the nice gesture.

the apartment door remained opened, but he didn’t enter, you almost stumbled over him, focusing on the note, and glanced over to see what caught him attention and prevented him from going inside.

“this is your surname, for a change” he stated, showing you a buffy envelope over his shoulder, but didn’t let you take it when you tried. instead he opened it himself, a neatly wrapped package inside, with a note at the top:

i wore glowes making it! i swear!

there was a typo in gloves, and the writing style could use a little work on it, but that didn’t affect kiyoomi at all, as he was hypnotized with his package after noticing your surname on it. he carefully opened it, to find a keychain, made from cubes, as the ones used in different boardgames, on every one there was a letter or a number, together forming the writing “kiyoomi 15″ with a heart at the end. it was all on a black string, and almost shined with how many times it was wiped before sending. after holding it in his hand for a while, he noticed another card at the bottom of the package, taking it out and reading out loud:

“please take care of my sibling. happy 24th!” he uttered in sheer amazement, as he grazed his fingers over the delicate ornament, before wordlessly going inside the apartment.

you followed him, closing the door behind you, worried about his reaction about your little sibling’s present, only to find him crouching before his couch, his training bag laying there as he tried to attach the keychain to the it’s zipper, smiling when he managed to do so.

before he got to turn around to face you, you managed to take a photo of him smiling at the newest addition to his training gear, and send it to your family with a caption:

omi likes personalized stuff.

over all the years of knowing kiyoomi, you’ve learnt so much about him, his life, his habits, everything. you knew him inside and out, and so he knew you. you’re laughing at your confusion and fear while you were buying his first birthday gift, as you sit on the floor in your shared apartment, plotting his 25th, biggest yet gift, as if he isn’t about to walk through the door, coming back from practice.

it’s almost ridiculous, how you struggled, wondering if he’d even like a gift, when right now you have a whole list in mind:

although omi doesn’t like gifts, he likes little thougtful gestures. he doesn’t like fancy big words, but likes real, honest wishes he can really take to heart. he doesn’t like spending his birthday without you, he likes feeling love, doesn’t like flowers, but does like his gifts personalized and touching.

you realize all the moments in your relationship made you know his every emotion and expression, but you’ve never seen your precious boyfriend cry, ever.

and you decide to change that.

you’re gonna make him something that’s gonna mask all the memories of his birthday being forgotten, walked pass by, pushed into the back, and not properly celebrated. that’s gonna outshine every single gift he’s ever got. that’s gonna make him so happy, he’ll cry.

an idea pops into your head as you get a pen and start writing.

dear kiyoomi,

_______

“dear kiyoomi” you get to hear him say a couple of nights later, he reads it out on your plea, with a smile across his lips, as you, atsumu, bokuto, meian and hinata, as well as omi’s older siblings and komori and osamu sit at the table, a cake and two traces of his favorite cupcakes are taking all the space possible.

omi’s voice is colored with a couple of glasses of wine, so it’s easier to him to relax and genuinely grin at the paper as he’s reading, all part of your plan.

“when i first met you, the first thing i found out is that you’re a private person. not that i was freaked out or anything, but you did have, and probably you still do, a heavy aura around you that may have flustered me a tiny little— a tiny little bit? smiles, your hands literally shivered” he stopped to comment, making you roll your eyes at him.

“zip it and keep reading, birthday boy”

“... a tiny little bit, i agree. nevertheless, the first thing i actually felt, was that you striked my soul as someone weird. thanks, baby” he interrupted again, but you urged him to keep reading. “... weird in a way that made me feel like i’ve never felt before, the kind of safe and terrified at the same time. terrified of what, you might ask? well, kiyoomi, here i’d like to quote you. you once told me that me loving you is like i had the power to break you, and you loving me back was like giving me a map with all the points to strike at. well if that’s the definition of love we’re going for here, than i not only give you a map, i’ll grant you a whole GPS. the trust you put in me every day to not take advantage of what you’ve given me is inspiring, and hence, i surrender every single point of ressistance i’ve held against you, i’m yours to snap at a wish, and trusting you that you won’t do it is something i can spend my life believing in.”

at this point kiyoomi had to stop and take a deep breath and a sip of his wine before continuing, clearing his throat a bit, chocking back his emotion.

“... throughout my years by your side, i’ve memorized everything there is to memorize about you and gifts. you generally aren’t a fan, but you like them carrying a lot of thought, dedication, you like them meant exactly to you and to you only. you don’t want pointless blabbing and overused sentences, you enjoy sincerity. you need love radiating from them in order to truly acknowledge them as something special. now, the last thing i know is that you don’t like flowers, but i hope you won’t be too angry with me and with what i’ve prepared for you. enjoy, signed, your smiles” he finished, looking up at you, already moving towards the counter, grabbing a bouquet from behind it.

he watched in amazement as you handed it to him, taking it in his hands, realizing that-

it was a bouquet of origami flowers.

“please, y/n, this is so—” he tried to find the right words, but once again, nothing came to mind as he watched your careful work from every side possible.

“shh, there’s a special thing to them” you explained, sitting back in your seat, exactly in a straight line from him, watching every single change in his expression as he tried to find what you meant.

he realized every flower had a little card sticking out from it’s center, and pulled the first one, the closest one to him.

“the first reason i love you” he read in a weak voice, chuckling nervously again before he found the courage to read it out loud “you make me feel protected”

he looked up at you with such a gentle and caring note in his eyes that you almost didn’t want to encourage him to keep reading it, but you did.

“two. you don’t smile too much” after that he raised an eyebrow, but read the next one “three. ...but when you do, you outshine the sun itself. four. you memorized my coffee order within the first two times we’ve been to a caffee. five. you got supplies to redo my coffee order without going to the— hey i swear i didn’t mean anything bad by it!”

“that’s literally the reason they love you for, idiot” atsumu laughed, urgining him to keep reading with a hand gesture. “come on, this is adorable”

“six. you have a playlist with songs that remind you of me. yes, i know this, omi, we share a spotify account. seven. you claim you don’t like interacting with people, but let a little girl propose to you with a cereal ring in the park.”

“this is too cute, omi is a softie” bokuto whined, hiding his face in his hands, but sakusa only slapped them off.

“am not. eight. you keep a mental score of all the times you won over ushijima. nine. you take way too much pride in beating atsumu in service aces”

“true that!” atsumu shouted, hiding behind his glass.

“ten” sakusa shook his head. “you don’t enjoy PDA, yet gave me the kiss of the century when i met your mother, just to annoy her. eleven. your childhood photos are too cute. twelve. you blasted hopelessly devoted to you the morning after we— i’m not reading that, idiot!” he half laughed half whined, in a high-pitched voice.

“omi-san knows how it’s done, apparently” hinata wheezed, komori accompanying him.

“did i ask?” he rolled his eyes and went back to picking lines from the flowers. “thirteen, you tug the corner of my sleeves when you’re stressed in public. fourteen, you have me saved in your phone as your good luck charm. fifteen. you put my head on your chest when i can’t sleep at night, to calm me down. sixteen. you make me laugh when i’m sad. seventeen. you almost never intent to make me laugh, yet always do. eighteen. you always make sure i’m carrying all the emergency items all me at all times. nineteen. you make me call you when i get home from a party, if you aren’t there to pick me up. twenty, you always insist on picking me up from wherever i am, because you’re worried about me. i mean yeah, what kind of a boyfriend would i be if i weren’t?” he genuinely asked, half of the guest shaking their heads.

“come on, five more to go, you adorable, clueless idiot” motoya pat his back and looked over his shoulder to see your careful handwriting, before sakusa hid the message from him.

“twenty one. you make me not worry about my future. twenty two, you try to do all your little morning rituals in advance when you leave, so i don’t miss you too much. i still do. twenty three, you’re never afraid to be bluntly honest with me. twenty four, you always ask if you can hug me when i’m low or crying. and twenty five—” he stopped more suddenly than anywhere before, eyes visibly watering before he dropped his head down and his it in his arms.

“what’s on there?” several guys asked over themselves, as omi kept laughing slightly, hiding tears in the sleeves of his fitted shirt.

“you’re gonna be the death of me” he murmured into the material, making everyone laugh, including you, who decided to walk over to him and hug him, resting your head on his, taking advantage of the fact that he was sitting and you could reach it.

after a moment of weakness, he showed his red and slightly puffy face, two trails of tears fitting his smiling expression as he struggled to say

“twenty five. you make me prouder and prouder every day.” he kept laughing through his tears, really trying to hide his emotion and failing miserably. “you really did try to make me cry on my birthday, didn’t you?” he looked up to you still embracing him.

“i suppose i did”

“well then, i’m gonna outshine you” he said, shifting in his seat in order to get up, wiping the last remains of tears from his face.

“what do you mean?” you asked, met with his confident smirk.

“you’re gonna see in a bit, trust me” he huffed, dusting off his pants’ material on the knee level, and reaching over to his pocket, in his hand a tiny, little box.

with a little more than an origami flower.

#haikyuu sakusa #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #hq fanfic #hq prompts #hq scenarios #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #sakusa x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff #fluff #hq fluff

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setterspirit · 4 years ago

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nothing important

❥ ‑‑‑‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑

it wasn’t until you had all finished that eito had requested his desired alone time with suna, the named man giving you a half intrigued, half bored expression as you spoke quietly to eito.

“i’ll just- i’ll be right back,” you murmured, standing up and walking to the bathrooms.

when you had left eito’s line of sight, eito sat up straighter in front of suna, eyes watching the middle blockers every move. suna, noticing the change in eito, also sat up straighter, gazing down curiously at the five year old to see what he wanted to say to him.

it was quiet between the two for a solid minute, causing suna to shift uncomfortably in his seat. he felt awkward being stared down by a five year old, seeing as he was close to 20 years older than the child. it was a weird feeling to be stared down by a five year old, especially considering said five year old’s mom was just in the bathrooms.

“you better not hurt my mama,” were the first words out of the child’s mouth, completely catching suna off guard. he had been expecting eito to say something, he just had no clue of what he was expecting exactly, but that was definitely not it.

“i could never hurt y/n,” was suna’s response, hands folded in front of him as he gazed back at the five year old. eito gave him a look that would’ve looked threatening, had it come from a grown man, but coming from a child, it looked more humorous, though suna held in the laugh he was so tempted to let out.

“if you do, i will find you, and i will make you regret it,” eito declared, sending a glare over to suna who widened his eyes at the supposed threat of the five year old.

of course, he wasn’t afraid, he was more shocked if anything, by the fact that a five year old was brave enough to challenge a full grown, pro volleyball player, that was enough to cause the middle blocker to go speechless. what kind of child had you raised? he was obviously very fearless, probably something he’d picked up thanks to knowing kyōtani and aone. he also knew how to make his threats actually stick, something he’d no doubt picked up from knowing tsukishima.

“then i won’t hurt your mama,” suna replied after a few moments of silence, in which time, the milkshakes had arrived and eito had started to sip at it.

“okay!” eito smiled, glancing up when he spotted you appear from the bathroom.

“so, what’d you and suna talk about, bubs?” you questioned as you sat down next to eito again.

“nothing important,” eito responded, eliciting a laugh out of you as took your own milkshake and started drinking it. suna shot eito a look, eyes wide in surprise as eito acted as if he hadn’t just threatened him.

“yeah, nothing important…” suna muttered, glancing away from you as he spoke.

you obviously knew it was something, though you never bothered to ask any of the other guys you’d introduced eito to — yes, he’d done this many times, and many times had your relationships with those men ended abruptly, though it wasn’t anyone’s fault, you just agreed that it was for the best that you break it off. you hadn’t found “the one” yet, and you honestly weren’t sure if you would, but there was still some time, right? you weren’t that old, after all.

you, suna, and eito finished your milkshakes and then continued to talk, filling each other in on the parts of your lives you’d each missed. you told him stories of your time in france, while he told you tales of his time knowing the twins. eito listened while you both spoke, a content look on his face when he found that you were enjoying yourself. he always found joy in whatever you found joy in, that’s just the sort of relationship you and he shared, and you were content with that.

the feeling you got sitting in the diner, talking and laughing with suna and eito, it all felt so...natural, like it was meant to be, and you didn’t want it to end, but it would have to eventually.

[ masterlist | thirteen | fourteen | fifteen ]

word count; 1.3k+

fast facts;

fact #1; y/n is now friends with college students nariko and reiko, who now even have a twitter gc (though if i show interactions from it, who knows).

fact #2; eito has “threatened” a total of three other men y/n has tried dating, though he’s never able to follow through on said threats because he’s only five. all those relationships ended in a mutual agreement, though, so it was never necessary for eito to even have to follow through on said threats.

fact #3; y/n and suna’s little catch up had lasted for about thirty minutes after they had finished eating, though neither wanted the night to end, so they agreed to go to the closest park to continue hanging out.

✨) a/n; i’m really sorry my writing sucks,,,😔 i’m not used to writing second person, but i promise i’ll work on improving? or i’ll switch over to third person, but i’ll let you know if i do!! anyways, i hope you enjoyed this nice little chapter, especially that threat from eito. ;) anyways, enjoy the rest of your days/nights, and i’ll see y’all in the next update! thanks for reading. 🤍✨

✨) summary; l/n y/n is a single mother living with her 5 year old son in sendai. suna rintarō is a professional volleyball player, the middle blocker for the ejp raijin. the msby black jackals vs the schweiden adlers is a game between two of japan’s v league division 1 teams that bring together many old rivals. y/n is dragged to the game by her cousin, tsukishima kei, claiming she needed to get out and do more than just work and take care of her child. reluctantly, she goes along with the usually salty blond — leaving her 5 year old with a babysitter — to watch the game between two of tsukishima’s ex-teammates. suna makes the executive decision that he will be going to the game to support his former teammate and setter, miya atsumu, with komori asking if he could accompany the middle blocker so he could support his cousin, suna readily agrees and they also invite washio to go with them, knowing he’d want to see bokuto as well. a chance encounter at the game of old reunions brings together two old friends and feelings start to re-emerge. follow y/n and suna as they get to know each other again, fend off any unwanted attention, and work through parenthood in “talk about surprises!”

updates every monday!

taglist; @pieckiya @its-the-aerieljeane @amatee @crayonwriting @reblogthatgoodfanfiction @mint-mai @akaashiwife @kac-chowsballs @sugarb0 @bdanie @the-golden-jhope @goodpop9 @navymacaroons @tendo-sxtori @sirachano0dles @seijqhigh @hannahlxu @mattsunsupremacy @winunk @briidge @kageyamasgirl @yongboxerrr @kiyoovmie @elianetsantana @ofmiceandsharks @bokutokita @honeydrip @tycrackculture @madmelle @kitkozume @gushinim @luckypartyranchmug @kenssister @matsukawaslut @smthn-about-smthn @devilkittymusic @tsukkisfatsimp @k3nma-fairy @tchalameme @athenarosaline @sunarinsbb @mirotic-ness @lilith412426 @moonlightaangel @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @sakusasimpbot @cinderella-2003 @chantalkate16 @borpcorp

bold and strike through means i couldn’t tag. ):

check out the masterlist to see how you can be added to the taglist! <3

#talk about surprises #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu social media au #haikyuu smau #haikyuu suna #haikyuu suna rintarou #suna rintarō #suna rintarou #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarō x reader #suna rintarou smau #suna rintarō smau #suna x reader #suna x y/n #pro volleyball!suna

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retroknightx · 3 years ago

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hypmic headcanons

since nobody on my instagram appreciates me, i’m going to put them here, and it’ll be like a master post i can add onto that way anyway (which is convenient for me, because i keep adding on… yeah, it’s bad lmao. my notes document can only take so much) all of it will be under the line so you guys don’t just have a big ass post clogging your feed! to whoever my 4 followers are

starting with fling posse…

---

Ramuda Amemura

He’s trans.

He has a superiority complex to hide his inferiority complex.

He also likely has a little bot of a god complex… Just a tiny bit… Not to the point it’d endanger his life, but to the point he can never admit he’s wrong (I suppose this can also count as the superiority complex).

He also has a little bit of a schoolboy crush on Dice… that has lasted far longer than he’d ever like to admit – not that he’d ever admit it in the first place – and he gets jealous over Dice.

He started his whole thing with girls, whatever it is, as a power trip, which also explains why he likes to cause so much chaos.

Since he used to smoke, he started candy as a way to stop smoking and it slowly replaced his smoking habit (as I have yet to see him smoke otherwise, but keep in mind I’m not far into the manga and mostly I’m going off the ARB story).

---

Gentaro Yumeno

All writers are perfectionists (I’d know as one).

He’s probably very particular about the details and doesn’t like doing things without a plan.

He’s the lyric write for Fling Posse’s raps and does not enjoy making up lyrics on the spot; however he can if he must – This is also why he carries the book everywhere.

I honest to god don’t feel like he’s of this world and whatever his actual form is (irony in his rap name?), it scared Ramuda enough to create Fling Posse, so here they are.

---

now for the dice ones… it’s gonna be long!

---

Dice Arisugawa

He is, unfortunately, very oblivious to romantic approaches – especially from close friends such as his division members, for he’s been with them for so long that he can never imagine them falling in love with him.

He has abandonment issues/a fear of abandonment because his mother left him.

Speaking of his mother, Dice likely knows how to do “noble” things because he was raised by a politician; i.e. how to play piano and stuff like that.

Adding on top of that, I feel like Dice has an accumulation of many different skills from being all over the place – He learned how to do card tricks by watching others, and he probably learned bird calls from spending time with Rio.

He undoubtedly has ADHD (as a person with ADHD myself, you cannot tell me I am wrong)!

He’s well aware that’s he a leech, but he can’t stop himself because the addiction is stronger and he feels terrible about it; it’s why he often begs instead of anything else that would fit his character more.

He’s a very talkative person and often rambles to get his thoughts organized.

He doesn’t like being put into awkward situations or forced into silence because he is used the buzz of a casino and a busy city.

Relating to the ADHD canon, Dice puts his life on line not only for the thrill of it, but to keep his mind off of thoughts, and it’s also why he gambles; so he can focus on one thing.

He is numb to change because he’s a gambler.

He is very good at adapting to a new environment.

He doesn’t like being looked down up and that’s why he started gambling; to prove that he’s worth something.

He uses humor to cope if he can’t get his mind off of things with the thrill of gambling.

---

Extras (Fling Posse all together)

Dice has weird limbs, so clothing fits him weird, and Ramuda started making clothes for them because of that.

Ramuda chased after Dice after he stole his signature parka and the Fling Posse star was embroidered on later by Ramuda after the formation of Fling Posse.

Ramuda likely pulls whatever strings he has access to to make life easier for his division members (not that it stops them from getting into trouble, that is).

Gentaro spends a lot of time away when writing and likely forgets he’s even alive during those periods, so his division members make sure he’s still taking care of himself when he gets like that.

They all piss each other off, but in a platonic love kind of way.

---

moving onto matenrou! my favorite division <3

---

Jakurai Jingui

Oh, my poor man’s so tired. He just needs a long break and a spa day; speaking of this, he likely doesn’t ask for help often – it’s the messiah complex he undoubtedly has.

His hair is too long for him to be taking care of it himself, and it definitely looks in fantastic condition, so he definitely takes good care of it – I just don’t think he takes care of it himself; I think he enlists the help of his division members (as I headcanon that Matenrou is in a poly relationship).

Jakurai’s matureness can sometimes get in the way of other things, such as emotional moments, and he can come off as cold or distant when he doesn’t mean to come off that way.

Unlike the other divisions, Jakurai wanted to really separate from his past, and that’s why he named his division Matenrou instead of reusing something from the past. He also probably doesn’t like talking about the past.

His hair is naturally silver, but the lighter shades that are nearly white underneath was caused by stress.

He gets cold quickly, which is why he always keeps the lab coat on, and it’s also why he wears a turtleneck.

Jakurai does live in the same apartment as Doppo and Hifumi, but he’s always so busy that he often can’t get there, so he ends up sleeping at the hospital; he also has a separate apartment of his own that’s closer to the hospital if he has free time, but he’s not off work/off work but still on call.

---

Doppo Kannonzaka

Man, the first thing I thought when I saw him was that he has a choking kink. Enough said. He also likely has a praise kink.

If he didn’t have social anxiety and wasn’t so busy, he’d also probably be going over to Rio’s camp a lot. I think it’s because he’s so overworked that he doesn’t care about what’s in the food; as long as he gets it.

He’s probably passed out from exhaustion more than once and just got used to it.

Despite all his problems, he definitely wants to be known and he wants his name out there; he wants to be just like the other two and he definitely looks up to them already, but he aspires to be them.

He is so thankful for his divison members and he’s glad that they accepted him.

---

Hifumi Izanami

Hifumi is a classic case of “fake it till you make it”; I really don’t know how he became one of the most popular hosts in Shinjuku, but it’s definitely about the fake confidence and the jacket is a comfort object for him that allows him to have that confidence.

He cooks all the time for his division members and he uses the catches from fish all the time, too. He even brings the lunches to their works for them.

---

Extras

Since Hifumi’s always out so late, the others make sure he has everything he needs for whenever he wakes up and sometimes they wait for him.

They’re all in a poly relationship and I refuse to believe anything else; I mean, have you seen those “my room�� dialouge in ARB? Fruity.

They probably all love to cuddle whenever they get the chance because they can’t do it often.

They definitely set up one day of the month for all of them to just be together.

---

buster bros time!

---

Ichiro Yamada

This may just be the Ichiro simp in me, but I think he has a very nice tummy that’d be nice to lay on; like a soft one if that makes any sense to anybody other than me.

He’s a very friendly person and if you’re close friends with him, he’s definitely loyal; he’d be willing to drop anything to help you kind of loyal, like he is to his brothers – all that, except the willing to die part.

I think he gets flustered easily and doesn’t know how to respond to compliments. That’s also probably the Ichiro simp in me.

Although he has to stop his brothers from ripping out each other’s throats all the time, he’s very proud of them and of their achievements, no matter what they are. He’s willing to praise them even for the tiniest things to make up for his absence in their lives.

He probably has a terrible sleeping schedule, but he could probably operate on pretty much anything. Two hours of sleep? That’s not an issue for him; he’s used to it.

He’s likely a cheapskate when it comes to himself, but when it comes to his brothers, he spares no expense if he can.

---

Saburo Yamada

He has a superiority complex. I mean, just look at how he acts with Jiro – that’s enough proof right there.

He got into hacking and all of that computer stuff because it was interesting to him; he’s probably pursuing a career in it, considering just how good he is at it. I feel like he’d make a good white hat hacker that tests your website security, like Alma in Va-11 Hall-A.

Call him a library, because he holds grudges for years.

I think he just likes picking arguments because he think it’s funny and there’s nothing better to do when you’re stuck with your brothers (as somebody with a sibling myself, I can attest to that).

---

Jiro Yamada

Anger issues. Yep, that’s it. That’s the headcanon.

Man probably goes dumpster diving to see what kind of treasures he can find; his room is probably full of that kind of junk.

He probably has greasy hair. It doesn’t matter how much he cleans it, it’s just greasy (as somebody with the same issue, go clean your pillows Jiro).

---

Extras

Ichiro has to hold Jiro back from just punching Saburo all the time.

God, somebody save Ichiro from his siblings; with how much they bicker, he probably has taken so much ibuprofen to stop headaches in his life that he should be considered dead from an overdose.

Despite being assholes to each other, they all help each other out – Saburo helps Jiro with his work, Jiro helps Saburo with whatever he can’t do, and Ichiro takes care of the rest. It’s the only thing keeping their bond together.

---

mad trigger crew, my beloved.

---

Rio Mason Busujima

Rio’s very stoic and that often doesn’t break, so it’s very rare to see a smile on his face. He has different smiles for different things too – there’s the business one; one so he doesn’t look as intimidating, and the actual genuine smile that’s very rare to see, but it happens when somebody appreciates his food.

Rio’s not good at understanding emotions and it takes him awhile to process emotions; he goes quiet in these moments and it can be confusing for those who don’t know him, but once he’s thought everything out, he’s very smart about responding.

He’ll never fully adjust to a life outside of the navy and military.

Opposite to Dice, he finds the buzz of a city to be too distracting for his thoughts and he enjoys his solitude, but he doesn’t mind company at all.

Due to how his unit was broken up, he refuses to abide by H law and keeps his gun on him. Even Rio can be spiteful. However, he mostly uses it for hunting, which is why he’s so far out in the forest.

He definitely has a lot of scars and that’s why he often wears his fatigues; he doesn’t wana come off as off-putting. His cards without the jacket did him so dirty. Of course he’d have scars from fighting in World War 3.

He can come up with strategies on the spot and is a very quick-thinker when it comes to combat.

Despite how ruthless he is when it comes to rap battles and being an ex-navy, he’s actually a very gentle soul.

I feel like he’s asexual, but homoromantic.

---

Samatoki Aohitsugi

He only uses the bad guy persona as a way to be left alone, but he’s actually a very kind person.

Despite being a yakuza, he actually abides to the H law and it’s probably only because of Nemu (however, this is only based off of the anime, so I can’t say for certain, but I haven’t seen anything in the manga disproving otherwise yet).

I just feel like he eats a lot throughout the day. I can’t explain this one, but he has the vibes.

He also knows how to cook quite well himself, and he does it for his division members sometimes.

---

Jyuto Iruma

He’s very cocky because he knows he can get away with things; I mean, he’s the authorties, why wouldn’t he get cocky about what he can do? However, it’s somewhat annoying to Samatoki.

If he wasn’t a gay bastard, Samtoki and Rio probably would’ve been arrested long ago. Thankfully for them, he is a gay bastard.

He likes looking good no matter what; it helps his confidence, so he dresses up to go out anywhere.

His glasses are probably just reading glasses.

He likes spending money on expensive things.

---

Extras

Samatoki and Jyuto are in a relationship. They’re so fruity that I’m sure I don’t have to explain this one.

Samatoki doesn’t approve of Rio dating Dice at all and it’s only because of Jyuto that Dice is still alive.

Rio is pretty much their marriage counselor; he has to constantly deal with them bickering, so of course he is. He’s pretty much the adopted child to save their marriage.

---

Ships

Riodice

Samajyu

Poly Matenrou

---

i will likely make a separate post for the ship headcanons because this will be much longer, but i think this covers all of them anyway, so here you go. enjoy.

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jaycewrites-192000 · 3 years ago

Text

Growl: Chapter 12

Warnings: None Tag List: @theravencawsatmidnight @etroman @kaariqueen

Today was the day, the day where Seijoh would face off aginst Kaisei Academy, a well known school with a very skilled Volleyball team. They were so good in fact, that they would become an obstacle for Aoba Johsei if not taken down a peg. And that's why Seijoh was here today, to show Kaisei Academy that they were the best! Right now, each team were having a team meeting before the game starts. While Seijoh were confident in their skills, there was still a hint of tension in the air.

"Alright guys, this is it." Oikawa started, as the captain it was his job to get his team hyped and ready for the match. But it was also his job to restore their confidence, make them feel like they could do anything if they really put their whole hearts and souls into it. "We're going to show those Kaisei jerks just who they're up against. We are Seijoh, we back down to no one! The moment we step onto that court, we show no mercy! Kaisei and every other team that challenges us will known that our team is nothing to mocked or looked down upon. I believe in all you, I know we can win this! Now, let's show them what we go!" The teamed collectively gave a frim, "Right!" back to their captain.

"But before we do, L/n-Chan has something she would like to say to everyone." Oikawa stepped aside for Y/n, who approached the team nervously. She cleared her throat and tried to ignore their eyes as she spoke. "I-I know things have been a little weird recently, I haven't stepped up as a manager like I promised I would. I gave you all my word and then I failed to make good on it, and for that I'm very sorry." She bows her head. "But, from now on, I'll be there for each and every one of you. I'll be here for this team like I should, I'll give you all my best, and I'll try harder every single day. Because that's what a manager does." She continued.

"Starting from now, you can rely on me. And I'll rely on you guys to win this match and many more like this." She gives the team a warm smile. "Good luck!" The team all felt their hearts flutter at her kind words. It was nice having a girl, a cute girl at that, cheer them on. But it was even nicer when she was this caring and appreciative of them. But secretly, Y/n would be cheering on Kyotani the most, and he knew that.

The bell that would signify the beginning of the match was blown. "Now go out there and win!" Y/n tells them. "Yeah!" The team says in unison as they approach the court.

The game was near it's end, and the score was tied, one more point was all that was needed in order to win this game. Things were starting to look slim for Seijoh, tension was clear in their movements. They were just as unsure as Y/n, who was on the sidelines watching with bated breath. She never knew volleyball could get so intense, she never understood why there was so much passion put into each match. But now she understood, she understood what it meant to be a part of the team, what it meant to have your teammates backs, and what it meant to support them all every step of the way.

The crowd watched as the ball was sent up into the air, Kyotani was the closest person to it. It was all up to him, to make that final hit, and win the game...

Kyotani took a running start, and just as he jumped he heard the encouragement that made him forget any trace of doubt in his mind. "Go for it Ken!!" Y/n cheered over the crowed. Kyotani yelled fiercely as he hit the ball with every ounce of strength he had. It swooshed over the net, and passed the opposite team member's head, right onto the floor.

The whole gym went quiet, as the ref made the final call...The final whistle was blown...Seijoh, had won!

The gym filled with the cheers from the crowd, Y/n included. She ran to the team who was currently celebrating their victory. She tackled Kyotani in a tight hug, he lifted her up and spun her around. "You all did it! You won!" Y/n kissed his forehead. "Of course we did! We're Seijoh!" Oikawa exclaims happily. "You guys were amazing! Congratulations!" Y/n tells them with a big smile. With a few more celebratory words, the two teams gathered at each side of the court, and thanked each other for the match.

At the end of the day, the whole team decided to go out for a nice dinner to celebrate. And all at the cost of their oh so wonderful captain Oikawa, who was currently regretting that decision. Each person raised their glass to make a toast. "Here's to another victory for Seijoh!" Oikawa starts. "You all worked hard out there today, I say this win was well deserved." The teamed cheered in agreement. "And, I would like to thank Y/n for becoming part of the team." His kind words made her blush. "Don't think I didn't hear you cheering for Mad-Dog out there." He winked. "Speaking of, congrats again on your relationship! Here's to Y/n and Mad-Dog! May they have a wonderful life, and many beautiful children!"

Y/n and Kyotani turned red, silently cursing their captain. "Oi, stop embarrassing them." Iwaizumi elbowed him. Y/n glanced over at Kyotani and smiled softly. As embarrassing as Oikawa's words were, she hoped for the same. That Kyotani and herself would stay together for a very long time, and maybe, even have a kid or two. Not now obviously! But at some point, it would be nice. Kyotani noticed her gaze, and discreetly held her hand under the table, so the others couldn't see. Y/n rubbed her thumb over his hand gently, as a silent, "I love you too."

After a night of age appropriate drinking, eating, laughing, and just enjoying each other's company, it was time each team member made their way home. Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Kyotani and Y/n were the last to go. "Be safe on your way back." Iwaizumi tells them. "We will. Thanks again you guys. I had a lot of fun tonight." Y/n says appreciatively. "Anytime Y/n. Don't forget to show up for practice tomorrow you two." Oikawa waves as he walked side by side with Iwaizumi. "Goodnight." Y/n waved before turning to Kyotani.

"You ready?" He asked, reaching for her hand. Y/n nods and takes it with her own, they then walked their way back home. "You were awesome out there Ken." Y/n says as she snuggles into his arm. "Was I?" Kyotani's cheeks heat up. "Yeah, you were intense before, but during that game, you were something completely different. You were...you were just so amazing! I can't wait for the next game." Y/n says happily. Kyotani grinned, he really liked that Y/n was warming up to volleyball. Even gaining the same love he had for it since he was a kid.

It just made his love for her grow even more. "Y/n?" Y/n looked up at him with a hum. Before she knew what was happening, his lips were on her own. It didn't take her long to relax into the kiss and return it. She sighed breathlessly as she wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. She felt Kyotani's arms snake around her waist, pulling her in closer to him. The two pulled apart, needing air, before locking eyes with each other.

All that the two could ponder in this very moment was, 'how did I get so lucky?'. Kyotani reached up and moved a stray lock of hair from her face, then gently strokes her cheek. "I love you so much Y/n." He speaks softly. Y/n smiled and leaned into his touch. "I love you too Ken, so very, very much." The two stayed in each other's embrace for a bit longer before continuing on their way, hand in hand.

It was strange, at first glance, you would wonder why Y/n would want to be with someone like Kyotani. He could come across as just another cruel delinquent, but underneath all that was a misunderstood, kind, and gentle person that Y/n loved with all her heart. She couldn't have asked for anyone better, and it was the same for Kyotani. He never thought anyone could love him for who he was, and yet, here Y/n was. Willing to love him with everything she had. He would make sure to never forget the kindness she had shown him, and the love that she held only for him.

He would make sure to care for her, and love her like it was his final days. He would never let her slip away so easy.

And to think, all this started...with a growl...

The End

Eight years had gone by since that day, and every since then, Y/n and Kyotani had stayed together, their relationship as strong as it was since they first started dating. Their love for volleyball had never went away, as Kyotani was now a V. League Division 2 player. He played on a team called the Sendai Frogs. Y/n, while not a manager anymore, worked her dream job as a (career/occupation). Still she would always go to his games and cheer him on, he started to call her his own personal cheerleader.

Many changes had occurred in their life, they graduated high school, got jobs, their own home, and now, Y/n and Kyotani were expecting a new addition to their little family. It wouldn't be long now before the bundle of joy would arrive, less than a month in fact. It was quite the shock when they both found out that they would be having not one, but two babies. Twins, one girl and one boy.

And of course when Oikawa found out, he was more than excited. Too excited. Like he was the one having the baby. He chipped in and bought all sorts of baby clothes, mountains of diapers, and two very expensive cribs for the babies. Iwaizumi had to take charge and hold onto his idiotic husband's credit card for a while. He was going to cause them to go broke all on baby items! Don't get him wrong, he was more than happy for Y/n and Kyotani, and couldn't wait to meet the babies when they arrived. But seriously, Oikawa was going to cause them to go bankrupted.

Another bittersweet change was that Killer, Kyotani's dog had passed away of old age two years ago. It left Kyotani devastated, he loved Killer, and he was gone. Y/n was just as sad, Killer was like family to them both. It just felt so empty without him around, so Y/n came up with an idea. She knew no dog could ever replace Killer, but she gifted Kyotani with a Shiba puppy on his birthday. When Kyotani started to cry, she figured she had done something wrong. But quite the opposite, Kyotani loved the new puppy. He even named him Killer Jr.

So life was pretty good. Kyotani and Y/n were still happy and in love, expecting twins, and had a loyal companion. What more could they ask for?

Kyotani held Y/n in his arms, gently stroking her pregnant belly, chuckling whenever he would feel his children kick at him. Killer Jr. was laying across her legs, staying alert for anyone who would try and harm his owners. Y/n looked up at her husband, his eyes were closed and a warm smile across his face. Her eyes trailed to the wall in front of them, above their TV was his old jersey from back in high school. Number 16. His number, proudly displayed for all to see.

On the TV stand were pictures of Y/n and Kyotani from over the years. When they graduated, when they both got wasted at that collage party she dragged him to, when they first moved into their shared home. She figured there was room for one more. "Ken?" Y/n says softly, Kyotani hummed. "Can you grab the camera for me?" She asks. Kyotani sits up right. "Why?" He asked as he stood up from the couch. "I want to take a picture of us. You can never have too many happy memories."

Kyotani searched around for a bit before finding the camera. He hurried back over and snuggled up to Y/n again and handing her the camera. She raised it up high and kissed his cheek, Killer Jr. walked over and laid in Kyotani's lap. The camera clicked and flashed, Y/n pulled away and took a look at the picture. "Perfect." She smiled. Kyotani chuckled and pet Killer Jr.'s head. "Wanted to be in it too bud?" Killer Jr. barked and licked his hand.

"You're so photogenic buddy." Y/n giggled. "He should be a dog model-oh!" Y/n put her hand on her stomach. "That was uh...a big kick." Kyotani puts his hand on hers. "You ok?" He asked. "Yes, it was just-Ah! Ooookay...um...Ken? I think our babies want to be free." Kyotani's eyes widened. "N-now...?" Kyotani mutters. "Yep." Y/n nods. "Now!?" Kyotani exclaims. "Yes now Ken!" Y/n flinches at another harsh kick. Kyotani jumped up and quickly grabbed his keys.

He ran back over and helped Y/n up and got her out the door and into the car and rush to the hospital.

It was hectic at first, but after hours of labor the twins had finally made their way into the world. Y/n held her two babies close to her chest, even drenched in sweat and exhausted Kyotani still found her beautiful. His knees nearly gave in at the sight of her and his two children. He kneeled down next to the bed. "They're so...small." It was all he could say. Y/n smiled and kissed her babies' heads. "Yeah..."

The door to the room opened wide, no other than Oikawa himself strode in. "I came as soon as I heard!" Iwaizumi followed in after. "This is a hospital, tone it down!" He hissed. "Ohhh, let me see." Oikawa walked over to the other side of the bed. He teared up at the sight of them. "What are their names?" He asked. Y/n looked down at the girl. "This one is Yui." She looked down at the boy. "And this one is Ryu."

(Sorry if they're bad, I'm not creative when it comes to names.)

"They're so precious." Oikawa whines. Iwaizumi walks over with a smile. "Congrats you too. They're beautiful." Y/n and Kyotani thanks them before turning their attention back to their kids.

"Yui and Ryu...Welcome to the world."

Previous | Completed

#kyotani kentaro x reader #haikyuu kyotani kentaro #haikyuu kyotani #kyotani x reader #haikyuu kyoutani #kyotani kentaro #mad dog chan #haikyuu mad dog #mad dog #haikyuu x reader

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riversofmars · 4 years ago

Note

Here's a prompt! The Doctor suddenly goes missing on some strange world and the fam is in a panic, only to find her and River together, perfectly fine.

Thank you for a brilliant prompt! Just some lighthearted fun, hope you like it!! <3

Rating: General

Word Count: 1700

Read on AO3 or below

Into the Jungle

“Doctor?“ Yaz called out. “DOCTOR?! I swear she was here a minute ago…“ She turned to Ryan and Graham who looked just as confused as she was.

“Where could she have gone?“ Graham asked, trying to get his bearings. They found themselves on an alien planet. It was an incredibly hot, rather tropical climate. Ahead of them stretched what looked like a jungle.

“The TARDIS is still there, she can’t have gone anywhere…“ Ryan waved at the TARDIS. They’d arrived only a few minutes ago and were having a look around when the Doctor had vanished. He ducked when an oversized mosquito took a dive at him.

“Maybe it’s the ground. Alien soil. Maybe it eats people.“ Graham suggested jumping out of the way of the mosquito as well. This place didn’t seem friendly.

“In that case, we would have been eaten too…“ Yaz pointed out. “Maybe she wandered off while we had our back turned? Wouldn’t be the first time…“ She carried on, placing her hands on her hips, wondering where she could have gone to.

“But not on a strange, potentially dangerous planet…“ Graham pointed out.

“DOCTOR?!“ Ryan called out again.

“Look over there, what’s that?“ Graham spotted something at the edge of the trees and they carefully made their way forward to investigate.

“That’s a custard cream… she was still snacking on a handful when we arrived…“ Ryan pointed out as she bent down to pick up the left overs.

“She wouldn’t just waste a good biscuit… you know the Doc… something must have taken her… or someone…“ Graham pointed out, looking around uneasily.

“We have to find her.“ Yaz took a deep breath, they were all starting to worry now.

“Are you saying we should just walk into those woods without her?“ Ryan confirmed as he followed her gaze into he jungle up ahead.

“Are you saying we should leave her and head back to the TARDIS and wait?“ Yaz retorted.

“Seems like the safer option…“ Graham pointed out half-heartedly. He didn’t particularly fancy going around exploring an alien jungle without the Doctor but they didn’t seem to have much of a choice.

“She could be in danger. Let’s go.“ Yaz took the lead as they slowly made their way into the jungle.

“Did you hear that?“ Graham grabbed Yaz and Ryan by the arms to stop them moving. There were voices in the distance, very faint and hard to make out over the buzzing of insects and other sounds of nature.

“Almost sounded like someone laughing…“ Ryan pointed out, bewildered.

“Or a weird bird or something…“ Yaz huffed. “What?“ She looked into their questioning faces. “If the Doctor’s been kidnapped, she’ll hardly be laughing about it, will she.“ She indicated for them to keep moving but something else caught her eye. Silver, reflecting the bright light streaming through the canopy of trees.“Is that…“

“Her sonic!“ Ryan realised and Yaz picked it up, starting to feel properly anxious now.

“She’d never part with that without a fight…“ She said and then she spotted something else, a few yards over. “And that’s…“

“Her coat!“ Ryan exclaimed, shocked.

“Guys are we sure this is such a good idea? God knows what’s in these woods…“ Graham looked around anxiously.

“She must be close by…“ Yaz mumbled gesturing for them to be quiet. “Let’s try and be quiet, whatever or whoever has her, will hear, we’ll lose the element of surprise…“

“Was that laughter again?“ Ryan asked and this time it was rather distinct. There was someone up ahead of them and they seemed to be having a great time.

“Probably celebrating their triumph… we must rescue her.“ Graham said sneaking forward.

“Over there…“ Yaz pointed towards what looked like a clearing in the jungle.

“Oh Doctor, Doctor, Doctor, did you really think I would recognise you?“ A voice sounded and they halted, hiding behind trees. So there was definitely someone there with the Doctor and they seemed to know who they were dealing with.

“I uhh…“ The Doctor’s voice sounded nervous but the Fam were relieved to hear it nonetheless. She was alive, though probably in a difficult position.

“Sounds like they’ve been looking for her.“ Ryan whispered to the others.

“Maybe those people from the Division again? I can’t see anything…“ Yaz inched forward, trying to see what was happening in the clearing. The sound of running water - a waterfall perhaps - swallowed some of the sounds but they could make out the Doctor’s voice quite clearly now.

“I didn’t expect to see you again…“ The Doctor said, sounding baffled.

“Oh you know I’ll always find you eventually…“ The other voice, that was quite clearly female, retorted.

“We need to do something…“ Ryan whispered, it sounded as though this person had been chasing the Doctor for some time. They looked around for something they could use as weapons but the best they could come up with were branches for clubs.

“Now, what do we do about this?“ The other woman sounded like she was enjoying this.

“You know, I’m not here on my own…“ The Doctor retorted, sounding more nervous now.

“Damn right she’s not.“ Graham huffed as they inched closer.

“No-one will find us here, Doctor…“ The female voice carried on with great amusement.

The Doctor’s response was muffled and that did it.

“On the count of three…“ Yaz indicated to the others as she grabbed tight hold of the sonic screwdriver. “One, two, three!“ They jumped out from behind their trees and stormed into the clearing, branches and sonic raised in aid of their friend.

“Whoever you are, get your hands off the…“ Graham’s words died on his lips.

“Doctor?“ Yaz didn’t know what to say or where to look while Ryan was very quick to look up at the sky.

“FAM?!“ The Doctor exclaimed in shock as she whirled around. The woman she was with seemed awfully put out at the interruption and why wouldn't she be? They had been kissing a minute ago and she’d just pulled the Doctor’s t-shirt off!

“Fam?“ The woman echoed her words with amusement.

“Told you I wasn’t by myself!“ The Doctor turned back to her, scolding her.

“Fam though?“ She chuckled.

“Doc, would you mind just… putting a shirt back on…“ Graham pipped up and the Doctor looked down herself, realising her state of undress.

“Oh shit, yeah, sorry…“ She quickly picked up her t-shirt that lay in the grass next to her, abandoned.

“Doctor, any chance you can explain this? Some weird aphrodisiac plant or…“ Yaz asked when it was safe to look again. The Doctor had blushed deeply and the other woman seemed quite amused at the whole situation. They were all relieved that Doctor wasn’t in any mortal danger - by the looks of it anyway - but they had questions!

“Is she a siren? Cause like, that would make a whole lot of sense, cause…“ Ryan gestured to the stranger who smirked as she ran her hand through a mane of wild curls.

“Ahh… no, it’s not what you think…“ The Doctor held up her hands defensively.

“I’m pretty sure it is exactly what they’re thinking.“ The other woman jumped in, seemingly enjoying the Doctor’s discomfort.

“But not like, nothing weird is going on, you don’t have to worry.“ The Doctor insisted looking in between all four of them.

“Nothing weird is going on? What would you call this?“ Graham raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“We just… haven’t seen each other in a while…“ The Doctor threw her hands up, not knowing what else to say.

“So this is not some kind of… you know each other?“ Yaz frowned, trying to wrap her head around the situation.

“Intimately.“ The curly-haired woman replied looping her arm around the Doctor’s hip pulling her a little closer.

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean…“ The Doctor didn’t know what to say, trying to get out of the other woman’s arm, looking thoroughly embarrassed.

“Professor River Song.“ River let go of the Doctor and extended her hand to the Fam who one after the other shook it, though reluctantly. “I’m her wife.“ River explained pleasantly as they’d all introduced themselves.

“Right…“ Ryan blinked, looking back at her in confusion. “Sorry what?“

“Come again?“ Graham wasn’t sure he’d heard her right.

“You’re married?“ Yaz looked to the Doctor and frowned. “And you never told us?!“

“She never does.“ River sighed theatrically. “Do I embarrass you, Sweetie?“ She pulled her wife close again pressing an affectionate kiss to the side of her head.

“It’s just, I never know if and when and…“ The Doctor tried to explain how difficult their out of order meetings and complicated timelines really were for her. She could never be sure whether they’d even seen each other again and what they would each be like when they did. It was easier not to hold out hope. But she couldn’t find the right words to explain so Ryan jumped in:

“Did you think we wouldn’t believe you?“ He teased.

“I’m not sure I do, still…“ Graham admitted with a chuckle.

“What on Earth possessed you.“ Yaz grinned, looking to River now, intrigued to find out more.

“Hey!“ The Doctor protested, picking up on their digs.

“It was either that or killing them.“ River answered with a smirk. “And they had such a baby face then, I just couldn’t bring myself to pull the trigger…“ She bopped her wife’s nose. “And you’ve got a baby face again now, and such an adorable one, too.“

“So you knew her before she looked like this?“ Ryan asked with a grin. They had always been intrigued to find out more about her past.

“I have pictures of all her faces.“ River grinned and reached into her coat pocket producing little wallet of photographs.

“Oh wow!“ Yaz grabbed the photos and unfolded them, Ryan and Graham stepping closer to look as well.

“You just had to, didn’t you.“ The Doctor huffed, giving River’s shoulder a playful slap.

“Good distraction.“ River smirked. “Come here you.“ The Doctor yelped and laughed when her wife pulled her close again and kissed her deeply.

#Doctor who #fanfiction #prompts #river song #thirteen #thirteenth doctor #femslash #space wives #yowzah #river x thirteen #thirteen/river #fluff #the fam #Yasmin Khan #graham o'brien #ryan sinclair

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stargaze-issei · 4 years ago

Text

ᴅᴀʏ 3; ғᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ sᴛᴏʀʏ

-> kageyama tobio

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭; kageyama finds comfort through middle school in his teammate's little sister, kunimi y/n. (ficlet/scenario)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; mentions of bullying.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 1.6k

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; fluff.

since you were little, akira was always there. mom and dad had jobs, which meant they were away from dusk till dawn. your brother walked you to school, picked you up, made dinner every day until you were big enough to help him. he hated doing those stuff, if he could've been lazy, he would've, but his responsibility to you was bigger. as you grew up, the one year difference started to become less and less noticable, then it wasn't him getting up earlier to make breakfast, it was you waking him up or he'd be late for school. you started to realize that your brother wasn't the knight in shining armor you thought he was, he was a normal school boy, not that it was a bad thing, but to wake up from your childish world was certainly a bummer. when akira got into middle school, he chose the one closer to your elementary school. to your surprise, a certain club activity had caught his eye, which lead to you waiting on the bleachers most days, refusing to go home alone. you liked spending time with him.

soon, you started taking part in their trainings, picking up balls, delivering water, learning everything from watching. the coach had took you in as an apprentice, much to akira's surprise. once you got to middle school, you were officially the team's manager. all akira's friends, if you could call them that, were your friends too. except for one. the wonder setter, kageyama tobio, avoided conversation with you at all costs, even if you wanted to give him some advice on their plays, or hand him a towel after practice. your brother didn't bothered with those small things, but it was exasperating to you.

"do you know if kageyama-kun has problems at home?" kindaichi had accompanied the kunimi siblings on their way home, with the excuse of having a project to do with akira. you, right between of them, gained weird looks from both.

"i don't think so" aswered kindaichi, kunimi couldn't care less about his troubles at home, instead, he caught on a detail.

"since when he's kageyama-kun?"

"he has always been kageyama-kun"

"no, only coach calls him that" to your silence, he scrunched his nose in a a disgusted mock "maybe that's why he doesn't like you"

"he doesn't like me!?" the two boys laughed at your reaction, there were few people allowed to hear akira's laugh, both you and kindaichi were glad to be one of them.

that conversation stuck in your brain through the day, and the one after, even at practice. you never gave it much thought to it, but now you realized how everyone showed kageyama a funny amount of respect, your classmates on the very edge of calling him '-sama'. if that is what he's used to, no wonder he didn't like you. your mind had gone through a complete rollercoaster, triggered by coach asking you to deliver a few papers to your upperclassman. when you finally divised him, sitting alone in his homeroom, you gulped nervously.

"um, hey, uh, coach asked me to give you this, so, there it is... kageyama-san" be aware, kageyama instantly knew something was bothering you. despite his dark aura, you always treated him like an equal, not being affraid of talking to him or call him less formal honorifics. he liked that, a lot. you, in your own way, made him feel normal.

as you handed him the papers with new game strategies, your eyes met his. your whole body paralyzed, being unable to let go of the pieces both of you were grabbing.

"don't call me that" his mouth spoke by itself, followed by a subtle blush on his cheeks.

"what?" now you were flustered, and your unconscious aggressive response made kageyama feel more nervous than he already was.

"well, y-you used to call me, uh, kageyama-kun, and n–"

"oh! i thought– nevermind, it's not important, kageyama-kun".

tobio had to pinch his arm to erase the smile on his face the rest of the day.

*.✧☆ﾟ.*･｡✧*⊰⊹ฺ

the team had grown apart, everyone could see that. more than once you argued with the coach, who stated that as long as they won, nothing else mattered. you disagreed. akira usually spoke with kindaichi about how tired they were of keeping up with "the king in the court", how they called kageyama, sicked by his selfish way of playing. they weren't wrong, kageyama lived up to his reputation, but nobody tried to help him either.

"he's fourteen! he needs help and you should give it to him! stop being a lousy coach and do something! you were there for oikawa senpai, be there for kageyama!" the coach was fond of you, but he was done with your constant yelling and reprimanding.

"if you don't like how i do things, you're welcome to leave" and you did. you left the team you loved as a family, shoving the feeling of impotence down your throat.

that was nothing compared to your fight with your brother hours after coach gave them the news, one of the few times he actually worried and got involved in your doings.

"the only way for you to go to aoba jōsai is through a scholarship! a scholarship which coach decides who recommend or not!" your house was filled with screams, an unusual situation in the kunimi household.

"i can't stand by when you're basically bullying kageyama and coach lets you!"

"stop being dumb and don't risk your future because of that jerk!"

"you're more of a jerk than he is, akira!"

it ended with you ignoring your brother for almost a week, and he doing the same. if there was one thing he was, besides lazy, was prideful. and you weren't behind in that topic.

kageyama, who had a habit of watching you through the day, could see that too. it was none of his business, he knew that, but you seemed so upset...

"hey, uh, kunimi-chan" he sat beside you during lunch break, he was aware that you had lunch in the yard and not in the cafeteria, looking for a quieter place.

"call me y/n, please" despite being angry at the world, you did your best to treat him nicely. he needed someone nice in his life.

"y/n" he muttered, more to himself than to you "i'm, i noticed that... you're upset, i wanted to make sure you are okay" he was so innocently sweet, you thought, you couldn't escape a smile.

"it's been a rough week" you answered, not wanting to say why you fought coach and akira.

"i know a thing or two about rough weeks" so it did bother him what his teammates were doing. a small feeling of relief went through your body, you weren't fighting a lost cause. both stayed silence for a few minutes, before you spoke.

"i'm sorry" he looked at you, confused "for akira and kindaichi". out of nowhere, he laughed, and your heart skipped a beat.

"you don't have to apologize for what your brother does, it's not your fault he's not good enough to keep up with me". there it was, the usual kageyama. despite of the sour flavor of hearing someone talk down on your idiot brother, you giggled, his honesty was quite entertaining.

"i meant... nothing, it's fine" that was the longest conversation kageyama had had with anyone outside of the court in a long time "i have to go" it was true, you were meeting a teacher for extra credit, he looked at you walking away, and blushed when you turned around catching him. "thanks for caring" and with that, you left.

he didn't know what it meant the marathon his heart was running, or his sweaty hands, or that smile glued on his face. he hoped it was something good.

*.✧☆ﾟ.*･｡✧*⊰⊹ฺ

the third years were finally graduating, yūtarō couldn't shut up about it. akira was kind enough, a rare act on your brother, to let him talk all he wanted. last day of school, but kageyama was nowhere around, making hard your wish to congratulate him. looking through the hallways on every floor, you heard a conversation between two girls.

"what is the volleyball team going to do without their stars now?" one teased.

"don't be silly, after their last game, i doubt they can play together anymore" you knew they lost their last game, but akira said it was nothing. curiosity burning in your lungs, you had to ask the girls what they were talking about. "the spikers left the setter by himself, the wouldn't hit any ball, like, on purpose".

oh you were going to kill akira, he had gone to far. but most importantly, you had to find kageyama. thirty minutes later, you found him sitting in a stair just as the last bell rang. he was officially a high schooler now. to see him, sitting alone, hoping anybody would find him, broke your heart into tiny pieces.

"congratulations, kageyama senpai" you spoke taking a place by his side. he wasn't his usual self with you.

"you don't have to" he was sulking hard.

"but i want to" his eyes opened wide when your two arms wrapped his shoulders into a warm hug. no one outside his family ever hug him. he stayed there, enjoying the closeness while trying to avoid the fact that a girl, no, you were hugging him. "what highschool are you going?" kageyama's hope went too far up, hoping to see you at his new highschool someday.

"karasuno".

"i guess i'll see you there, then".

⌙𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 🥳

#kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu kageyama #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #kageyama fluff #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyuucreations #– star's; originals! [❀]

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jcfoxington · 3 years ago

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@sambambucky : “pls... Pastels, Peaches and Pain??? among us first draft??? marvel meets warframe meets a bunch of tumblr posts (it’s not an au!?!??!)

hi jo !!! Pastels, Peaches, and Pain is one of those sambucky wips i have mostly fully fleshed out in my head because of one (1) extreme moment of clarity after a rogue ‘what if’ tangent thought but havent written anything of yet out of restraint / knowing i need to finish at least one of my current sambucky wips before i start it or none of them will get done

this was the rogue tangent thought: “what if Sam is haunted by Figaro’s ghost and has been since he was a kid?”. i’ve changed the ghost cat to not be Figaro but that’s the premise !

i refer to the fic as the cat fic ‘cause the whole plot is based around sam’s ghost cat companion insisting he adopts nat’s cat Liho after endgame and then Figaro later and then [insert redacted because plot spoilers but just know it relates to Alpine]. no im not projecting my feelings about cats idk what youre talking about

here’s some note snippets just for you:

the cat, inexplicably, takes a liking to bucky, which is really annoying bc sam doesnt know how to explain to him that all the oddly soft gusts of wind are actually sam's dead cat insisting on getting pats

bucky getting shade thrown at him by said ghost cat during all of tfatws + them making up (and not out. yet)

starts when sam's a kid & follows him as he grows up w/ a ghost kitty as a companion only he can see & interact with + angst with an undertone of comedy + getting together

he whispers to ghost kitty, who simply mmrrs happily

for the among us first draft thing, what basically happened is i saw this tweet and this video and my brain latched onto these dynamics so hard i had to write about them.

here’s a sketch of my two main imposters, Black (left) and Cyan (right):

and here’s a snippet:

The thing having Cyan pause and stare out at the asteroid field is how the colors stretch to family. When they and Black came aboard, they had thought every crewmember was an adult working on the planet-change project. That the patch of off-white with a black something-pattern-or-shape signified status. In a way, Cyan supposes it does, but just not the way they expected. They had expected it to show what rank an individual held within the hierarchy of the crew, from deckhand to division leader to captain, not to show that you're family of the crew and not actually part of the crew itself.

There are innocents on this ship. Children. It was not something any of them had anticipated, and not something Cyan had been prepared to deal with. They and Black boarded this horrible place to eradicate a threat, believing each and single one of the humans were accomplishes and dedicated to the goal of destroying Cyan and Black's species, and their planet. But, now?

marvel meets warframe meets a bunch of tumblr posts... doesn’t have a wip title or seperate document for itself yet cause it’s been stuck in my ‘story ideas’ document since its creation. so ‘marvel meets warframe meets a bunch of tumblr posts’ is literally just me describing the vibe of an original world gjkerfkds

the world came to be for two reasons. firstly, i want to do make take on a superhero universe because the plot and complete lack of communication in both the dcu and mcu piss me the fuck off. secondly, needed a place to dump ocs with elaborate backstories or fantasy / sci-fi abilities that dont fit into any of my existing worlds

which sounds super competent but trust me, it isn’t. it didn’t gain any solidity at all until i decided to do a personal ‘how different can i make spn castiel look & still retain the same vibe?’ challenge. i have my own cas now

however, the reason i said ‘marvel meets...’ is because i’ve snagged a couple of different things from the mcu, most notably: enemies to reluctant coworkers to lovers, yes our best friend have the same name. no they’re not the same person, secret evil org is controlling the government, and the assassin that tried to kill you several times is now your best friend

warframe was added to the world because i got attached to my Volt build, gave them a name, and have some headcanons idk what to do with because i refuse to interact with that fandom. also because the friend i made through discussing warframe lore + plot dicked me over so it feels Bad to create for

the glue to this whole mess is that one “in every friend group there’s a mean bisexual, an even meaner lesbian, a she/they, a he/they, a himbo, an astrology bitch, a short king, and a token straight” tumblr post. my main group of superheroes ala the avengers consist of these people. the token straight is the only one i havent figured out who is yet

ever since i figured that out ive been throwing story / character ideas and weirdly specific aesthetics from popular tumblr posts into this world’s notes. here’s some examples:

sword grandmas

that trope where someone’s really nice and acts super well-adjusted to society but then they do something super whack and dangerous and you realize ‘oh they’re secretly a little bit insane, actually’

anti-gay group’s leader’s wife leaves him for another woman

superhero who swore to be the best hero [city / planet / solar system / continent / ????] has ever seen ever since he lost his wife. not because she’s dead but divorce just sucks & the hero-to-be is terrible at coping

dishevelled swamp witch

that one person who runs around with an amulet all the time & isn’t aware it’s cursed

an exasperated, tired superhuman assassin running after their husband and their husband's best friend. their husband and said husband's best friend both have wings. chaos ensues (yes, this one is a sambucky post)

ask me about my WIPs!

BONUS:

@sambambucky : #i want to have a coffee and listen to synopses of all of these.... #i miss the discord wow #WRITING TAG #waitttt time jumping dream movie? lmao I'VE READ THIS LIST FORTY TIMES and every time i rediscover something i wanna know about #outfit doodlesss ugh i need to go

couldnt not respond to your tags because they make me go ghrkjfnerknf but in the good way. we miss you too jo !!

the time jumping dream movie was one of the first vivid dreams i had and the whole thing was so stupidly coherent and whacky i had to write it down. it grew plot, a queer love dynamic, weird sci-fi apocalypse elements, anti-military propaganda, questionable science, and a sequel while i wasnt looking and now i just. have to make it a real movie or i’ll combust

outfit djoodlles.png is only on there because my best friend sent me a ‘draw this outfit’ meme and space kitty, my current character brainrot, stole all the outfits for himself. otherwise, that file just sits there until im feeling like designing an outfit or wanna see how a stupid thing looks on my oc patrick

here’s one of the two poses-to-doodle-outfits-on of space kitty ive made so far:

and here’s one of those stupid things on patrick (that then turned into an actual outfit of his because i have no self control):

#.jax speaks #.my art #.my writing #tysm for the interest jo !!!#if you have literally any questions or if youre serious about the synposes thing...#i love rambling abt my stupid brain people #i WILL answer all your questions #even if the answer is 'good question! ive got no clue'#.patrick mortensen #.space kitty #.pastels peaches and pain #.the among us thing #.marvels meets warframe meets tumblr posts #.time jumping dream movie

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there-must-be-a-lock · 4 years ago

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wings & the way down - part 4

Spencer Reid x Derek Morgan

Word Count: ~1870 this chapter

Warnings: None?

A/N: A wild subplot appears! Gang’s mostly here, so we get to the fun stuff soon. Nobody’s reading this on tumblr, really, but I still feel the need to apologize for the delay!

Catch up here.

Monday, January 6 - Derek

As far as first days go, it could be a lot worse. It’s still fucking exhausting.

They send the class president to meet him in the office, in the morning — blonde-haired and blue-eyed, straight out of a Colgate ad as she shakes his hand and introduces herself as “Jennifer, but my friends call me JJ.”

Derek doesn’t fully trust girls like that, the ones who are so traditionally pretty they think they don’t have to be nice, but she’s cool enough as she shows him to his first class and gives him a brief tour, pointing out where he’ll want to go for his next class. He’s already feeling a little lost.

People keep looking at him, and he wonders what they’re seeing.

JJ seems to know everybody; she greets almost everyone by name as they walk, introducing Derek in passing. Most of the kids smile right back. It makes Derek reconsider his initial assessment of her; mean girls don’t usually get that sort of genuine warmth aimed in their direction.

She invites him to eat lunch with her and her friends, but he has a meeting with Principal Strauss during lunch to talk about the student handbook, how he’s adjusting, and all the other fun shit.

“No worries, standing invitation,” JJ tells him.

“Tomorrow, then. It’s a date,” he replies, flashing his most charming grin.

She smiles at that — not the flirtatious expression Derek expected, more like she’s laughing at a private joke — before waving and heading off to her own class.

The history teacher, Ms. Lewis, asks him to stand and introduce himself to the class, and to “Tell us something about yourself,” which… yeah, he saw that one coming, and he practiced it in front of the mirror last night.

“Derek Morgan.” Not-too-bright smile; just casual enough to be cool, not cocky. “I just moved from Chicago. Psyched about the Vegas weather, not so much about the pizza.”

He has to do the same thing at the start of every class. He’s going to be repeating it in his sleep, at this rate, and the more he says it, the more disingenuous it feels, trying to boil his identity down to one neat sentence.

The English teacher, Blake, also asks him to say his favorite book, and Derek hesitates slightly. His instinct is to lie, say something cool and not quite as nerdy, but he catches himself and tells the truth instead. Nobody seems to care except the girl sitting next to him — dark hair, darker eyeliner — who raises a skeptical brow, like she doesn’t believe it.

At the end of class, though, Blake pairs him with Eyeliner Girl for a project, and she gives him a begrudging smile before introducing herself: “Emily. Glad I’m not the new kid any more.”

She scrawls her name and number on a piece of paper and slaps it down on the desk in front of him, saying something about meeting up later in the week, as she starts to pack up her stuff. Derek notices an enamel pin of a pansexual pride flag on her bag — between a Joy Division patch and a pin that says “Death Before Decaf” — but before he can figure out whether he wants to comment on that, she’s on her way out the door.

Most of the day is just a blur of new faces and names and trying to remember where the fuck he’s going. Strauss is brusque but sharp. The place is huge, but there seem to be a lot of girls eager to show him around. People have been friendly enough; the whispers he hears are curious, instead of vicious.

Derek feels a little bit like he’s got a spotlight on him every time he walks through the halls. At least here it’s a spotlight and not a bullseye.

He wasn’t nervous for any of his classes, or anything, but he’s definitely nervous before practice. He’s not sure whether Coach Rossi told the team anything about why he ended up transferring mid-year.

He’s braced for some hostility when he introduces himself to the team captain. “Hey, man, I know this has got to be weird, but—”

“Hey, apparently you can help us win some games,” the guy says, with a disarming smile. “Foyet. Glad to have you.” Derek breathes a little easier as they shake hands.

Coach Rossi, meanwhile, isn’t like any high school coach Derek’s ever met. They’re usually big and loud and kinda aggro, but Rossi’s quieter, deadpan, well-dressed. He’s got this unimpressed expression, like he has seen some shit in his day and is not going to be bothered by any amount of macho teenage posturing.

It feels good to be back on the court. The team’s not stellar, but fuck, it’s better than what he left behind, any day of the week. Derek’s in his element, here, and after a day of uncertainty, it’s nice to know he can still do this. By the end of practice, he seems to have won over most of the guys who seemed a little frosty at first, and that’s really fucking nice too.

He hangs back for a minute to talk to Rossi, afterward, to thank him and just touch base. Then there’s talk of uniforms and making sure he has a locker, before the next practice, and by the time he gets showered, the rest of the team is gone.

He doesn’t mind walking back to the main building on his own. It feels like he’s been smiling and shaking hands and working so damn hard to make a decent first impression that he hasn’t been able to properly breathe all day.

The school is mostly deserted, at this point — there are a few teachers still working at their desks, a couple students packing up. He gets a little bit turned around trying to find his locker again, wandering into an out-of-the-way section of classrooms near the auditorium before hitting a dead end. He retraces his steps and takes the right turn this time.

Then he hears an argument around the corner, unmistakable in the relative quiet. He winces, wondering if he should announce his presence somehow, but it doesn’t sound like the kind of thing he wants to interrupt.

“Look, I’m sorry,” a female voice is saying. “But every time I think about it… it’s terrifying. It’s easier for you, you’ve never—”

“You think this is easy?” another girl snarls. “Fuck that and fuck you. I told you, I’m not doing this. No fuckin’ way.”

With that, heavy footsteps stomp away, echoing down the hall.

Derek pauses for a moment, listening, but there’s no more sound; he waits a few seconds anyway before turning the corner, where one of the girls is still standing silently.

When she whirls, startled by the sound of his footsteps, he realizes it’s JJ.

It just takes her a blink to pull herself together at the sight of him; if he didn’t see the tears streaking down her cheeks, he’d almost believe it when she aims one of those Colgate-ad smiles in his direction.

“You okay?” he asks hesitantly. JJ nods vigorously.

“Totally! I think it’s allergies or something,” she insists. Right.

“Think I’m a little turned around. How do I get out to the senior lot?” he asks her.

“I’m heading that way, I’ll show you,” she says. As they start to walk, Derek can see her, out of the corner of his eye, wiping away tears discreetly. “How was your first day?”

“Not bad, can’t complain,” he says, shrugging. “Pretty weird being the new kid, but… what are you gonna do, right?”

JJ hesitates before saying, “Must be nice. Getting a fresh start, no expectations.”

That’s not the usual line. Most people say it must be difficult, having to start over where nobody knows him; most people ask if he misses home, and they don’t consider what he’s trying to get away from.

He doesn’t ask JJ what she wants to get away from — instead he says, “That’s what my momma keeps saying: I can be whoever I want to be.”

“So who do you want to be, Derek Morgan?”

“Just want to be myself,” he says, and she looks up at him with a small, sardonic smile.

“You make it sound so easy,” she mutters.

He laughs. “Yeah, fair enough.”

This time, her smile seems more genuine. JJ points him in the right direction and then ducks into the women’s bathroom, with a wave and a reminder that she’ll see him for lunch.

Derek heads toward the front door. He’s fishing around in his bag as he walks, looking for the keys to his uncle’s truck, when he walks right into somebody rushing out of the men’s bathroom.

“Fuck, sorry, are you —” He stops dead, still with an arm out to help steady the other person, because the other person is Spencer.

Spencer, who looks just as surprised as Derek feels. They lock eyes for a second, and Derek’s insides go on an entire fucking roller-coaster ride in one frozen moment.

“I thought you were in college,” Derek blurts out, half-laughing, but Spencer doesn’t look even a little bit happy to see him. He’s gone pale.

“What? No, still in fucking high school, last I checked.” His voice is bitter, and it cracks on the words. “I just take college classes sometimes.”

“Oh.”

“I thought you were visiting,” Spencer says, pushing his hair out of his face like he wants to be pulling it instead.

“I am,” Derek says, stomach sinking when he realizes Spencer still isn’t smiling. “For another six months.”

Spencer’s mouth drops open, and Derek has a visceral flash of sensory memory: those pretty pink lips brushing his cheek.

Spencer scowls. “So you’re — you go here. Fantastic.”

Derek’s too tired to pretend the venom in Spencer’s tone doesn’t hurt.

He snaps, “Did I do something wrong here, or did you just wake up on the bitchy side of the bed?”

Maybe not his most mature reaction, but. It’s been a long fucking day.

Spencer digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, for a second, and Derek can see the tension in his fingers. Then he exhales and it’s like all that twitchy furious energy drains out of him at once. He just looks exhausted.

His voice is low and croaky as he says, “I liked that you didn’t see me the same way as everybody else does.”

“So, what, you think that’s gonna change just cause we go to the same school now? What kinda asshole do you think I am?”

“The kind who wears a varsity jacket,” Spencer mumbles. His eyes are huge and hurt and soft, and Derek recoils slightly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Spencer shakes his head. “Never mind. Just — trust me, okay? You’re better off pretending you don’t know me.”

“I want to know you, though,” Derek says quietly.

Spencer’s phone is vibrating. He looks down at it and then gives Derek one more sad little half-smile as he starts to walk away.

“If you still feel that way by the end of the week, give me a call,” he says over his shoulder, already pushing the front door open. “But you won’t.” Before Derek can respond, he’s flipping the phone open and saying, “Hey, Mom. I’m on my way.”

When Derek collects himself and follows him out, Spencer’s already gone.

#moreid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #derek morgan

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atsunflower · 4 years ago

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Rated: SFW

Author notes: fucking finally, I'd say. Sorry it took me so long to post it after I decided to revamp this series. Here goes my belated 300 special med student!Kuroo. Please note that this is written based on the med school model we have here, in wich we get the MD degree right away, without the pre-med division they have in USA.

PS: DAI¹ stands for diffuse axonal injury, a type of brain damage caused by violent shakes (acceleration/deceleration/shaken baby syndrome) of the head. No worries, banging your head against a hard surface isn't supposed to give you it. If you get confused by any medical terms, pls hmu!!

Warnings: me trying to be funny. Cursing (reader swears like a sailor here).

I – Lehninger principles of biochemistry

Previous || Next

Your head was throbbing. The professor's voice dragging through your ears made the discomfort you felt even bigger.

The first class of the day have barely started and you were already regretting leaving your bed.

You let out a shuddering breath while your fingers found their way to your temples. You massaged the area, trying to ease the headache.

"You look like shit" the voice came from your right. Shirabu gave you a sideways glance before going back to his notes. "Let me guess, your neighbor again?"

"Yeah, the bastard was up all the night. I still can hear his bed pounding into the wall and the girl trying to muffle her voice" You groaned.

"Ew. Gross" The blonde's face contorted in a grimace "Am I the only one weirded by the fact you never saw the guy?" He asked frowning.

"Hell, no. But I don't think I wanna meet him anytime soon." Your reply was earn; you wouldn't know how to react if you ever saw the said man. "Besides, the guy has this strange schedule. He leaves early in the morning and comes back late at night, it's kinda weird"

"Weird is the way you know him so well and never saw him before" You ignored your him and turned your attention back to the professor. Twenty minutes into the lecture, the door was open and a raven hair peaked from it, sitting on the desk available in the front row.

You mood automatically got worse just by the sight.

"You're staring" Shirabu's uninterested voice ringed in your ears again "Why don't you admit you have a thing for him already? It would make our lives a thousand times easier"

"I just dislike him. I can't stand that dumbass" You retorted grimacing while scribbling down in your notebook. God, you hated biochemistry.

"Yeah, keep repeating that and someday you'll believe it."

"Why you all keep saying it?" You winced at the high pitch of your whisper "The guy ain't special. He is an asshole, honestly"

"Deep down you only say it because he told you were 'just okay' in our first week of freshmen year" The male gave you a pointed look. "I know it's you just being petty, but it's pretty obvious you have a crush on him"

"Hell no, I'd rather have the whole Lehninger shoved down my throat" Your classmate scoffed by your side, resuming to his notes.

"By the looks Haruno-sensei is sending in our direction, it's going to happen anytime soon."

"For this term, you'll send me an essay about peptides with especial focus on physiologically active ones and their major role on human organism." The professor said, sending a stern glare though the class. "Pay attention to the next slide. It contains a table with the pairs I've assigned for this paper"

What the hecking heck?

Your mind went blank but you still heard Shirabu snickering by your peripheral. For such a stoic man, he was pretty out of character today. That little shit.

"Beware the addressed pairs won't be changed in any circumstances. Don't even bother to try" The woman said as she addressed the whole class a cold glare. Goddammit med school and its goddam professors. "You now can discuss this paper. Remember this essay is worth half the grade"

"Fuck" you cursed as your forehead banged onto the thick textbook.

"Whoa, be careful" The teasing voice made you painfully groan "We don't want this pretty brain of yours getting a DAI¹ before we start this paper"

"It's too early in the morning to deal with you, Kuroo" Your retorted came muffled as you pressed your face even flatter into the book.

"It's too early in the morning for you be ranting about everything but you don't hear me complaining, kitten" He jabbed at you, laughing it off as mere teasing "Is it fine if we start the paper on this weekend? I gotta volley practice the whole week."

"Sure. Wanna meet up on the public library?" You asked gathering your things, as you turned to Shirabu and saw him cocking an eyebrow at you.

"Fine by me" The male scratched the back of his neck, giving you an awkward glance "Actually, I wanted to ask you phone number" You stiffened "Aw [Surname]-chan, C'mon! You know it's easier."

"But what for? You already have my institutional email"

"You're too formal for your own good, woman" He handed you his phone, nudging the device into your palms "Where do you think this strict act is going to take you?"

You rolled your eyes at him again.

"Actually, Kuroo-san" You made a pause, voicing the words with candour "I want chaos and world domination. But in order to do it, I need to overthrow the dean first" You said while punching the numbers onto the chapped screen of his phone. The ravenette snorted at your reply.

"Oh shit, you're so weird!" And he left out a hyena laugh.

"Way to impress a girl, huh"

"Only the ones I'm trynna woo" The male smirked when he saw your dumbfounded face.

"Huh? Big words coming from a nerd" You brushed off his provocation. You knew he didn't mean it, but you couldn't prevent your heart to skip a beat.

"Oi, [Name]! What do you mean?"

Surprisingly, the week went smoothly. No Kuroo incidents nor professors bitching over the struggling students.

It was saturday and you were more than ready to spend a whole day inside the library with the ravenette.

Sarcasm? Check.

It wasn't like you hated him. If you were to be honest, it was the other way around — but you would never give Shirabu the taste of being right.

Kuroo just had a special way of getting under your skin. He knew what buttons to push and how to make feel flustered.

You were indeed whipped for him in your first year, but he was an asshole back then — It was kinda comprehensible though: being new to the infamous uni life, freshmen were always seeking acceptance from other people.

Kouhai trying to impress their senpai.

Jocks trying to make a number on the female population.

You trying to grab the attention of that hot guy from welcome ceremony — yes, the one who ended to be the bane of your campus existence.

Yada yada.

But when Kuroo turned you down — without you confessing first, you may add —, your pride was incredibly hurt. You then declared war. Best way to rile up a med student? Make your grades better than theirs.

But of fucking course Kuroo wasn't your regular med student. The competition only provoked meaningless banter — and it annoyed you even more because you couldn't get into his nerves the same way he did to you.

"Oi, [Surname]! You good there?"

"Yeah, yeah, get back to the damn peptides" You definitely despised biochemistry.

You rummaged through the books sprawled over the desk, searching for your Lehninger copy.

"Where the fuck that huge ass book went to?" You murmured, getting ready to go check on your backpack.

Glancing towards your classmate's direction, you spotted it under one of the textbooks he was using, but before you could reach for it, you felt hands gingerly wrapping around your chin, making your eyes lock into his stare.

"What are you doing?" You knew the warmth in your cheeks wasn't being provided by his body temperature.

"Conducting an experiment" He said as you melted under his attentive stare.

"Huh?"

"You know, they say exchanging looks causes an increase on Oxytocin synthesis in hypothalamus" The male smirked when a vein popped on your head, your brain recalled that science paper about the physiology on human and dog interactions. You wanted chaos and world domination — but in order to make it, you had to kill Kuroo first.

"Are you fucking calling me a dog?" You squinted at him, ready to fight. He laughed as your slapped his hands off of your face.

"Oh, come on, it was just a joke. You know the hormone of love doesn't work this way." His hyena laugh made presence as the bibliothecary gave you two a dejected stare.

Just a joke, huh?

For a med student, Kuroo Tetsuro would make a shitty doctor if he didn't know how bad his smile was for your heart.

General taglist: @ohmythatmiya @imomomi @neonghxst @differentballooncollection @raenebalgaire

Taglist is open. Send an ask if you want to be added.

#kuroo tetsuro imagine #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo headcanons #kuroo testuro #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu requests #haikyuu x reader #kuroo imagine #kuroo scenarios #kuroo x you

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an-actual-angel · 4 years ago

Text

Pairing: Connor (RK800) x Reader, Collin (RK800-60) x Reader, Richard (RK900) x Reader

Summary: The year was 2082. 44 Years after the android revolution. Things have turned south for humanity. Androids now rule the world, leaving humans to be considered as mere animals. While some Androids still have a general disdain for humanity some have taken to the idea of keeping them as “family pets.”You, born in captivity, specifically bred to be the perfect pet happen to get adopted by the RK brothers.

Chapter Description: Part 2 of your eventful day out with Collin.

(If anyone wants to be added to the tag list, either dm or reply to this post <3)

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Buy me a Coffee?

_____________________

Chapter 28 - The Lost Boy

Your name: submit What is this?

The Incident with Collin's ex had left a bitter taste in your mouth for most of the day. You clenched your fists anytime you thought back at how she and her friends had berated him. Part of you wanted to bring it up again to Collin but it seemed like he had enough of talking about her for today. You didn’t want to annoy him with it. Perhaps you could try again some other time.

Collin seemed a little annoyed by it but it didn’t seem to have shaken him up too much, he was quite happily scoffing food into his mouth, upon finally making it to the café you both had planned to visit. You watched him amused, your hands clasped around the warm porcelain coffee mug as you blew into the brown liquid, still too hot to drink. For a being that didn’t need food, Collin sure could put it away quick. You thought it was cute though.

“So,” You began to speak, removing the white mug from your lips. Collins eyes flicker up to meet yours.

“I kissed Connor this morning.” You felt weird telling this to Collin but you knew if this was going to work, open communication would be essential.

“Finally, took you both long enough.” He laughed, sitting back in his chair. “So, who’s the better kisser me or Connor?” A sly grin formed across his face.

“Definitely Connor.” You quipped, copying his go to wink.

“Lies.” Collin rolls his eyes.

“Okay, I’m only messing. You both are well, really great.” You shrug with a small giggle. You don’t think you could choose a favourite.

“Just admit you like me better, it’s okay I won’t tell.” Collin's foot brushes against your leg as he teases you. You raise your eyebrows to him in a mocking way as a response.

“I’m only kidding.” He chuckles before taking another swig of his drink.

When you both had finished your food, you set off into the city again, your hand linked around his arm as he leads the way.

“So, the museum then?” Collin asks, a little too unenthusiastically for your liking – making you stop and think.

“Why do I feel like your pandering to me?” You ask, pulling back on his arm slightly.

“Huh?”

“It’s just the museum doesn’t seem like a very ‘Collin’ thing. It’s not your style.”

“Hey, are you trying to say that I’m not smart, sophisticated and cultured?” He fakes being insulted, making you giggle slightly.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah, I know,” he smiles. “You got me. Connor suggested taking you there.” He holds his hands up in defence, accompanied by a smirk.

“Well, I want to do something that you want to do. Not what you think I want, or Connor thinks rather. This is your last day off. What do YOU want to do?”

“Well, I could think of a few things” he grins, moving his hand lower down your back with flirtation. You bump your shoulder into him in response as if you’re telling him to grow up. Not that you would mind getting a little bit more intimate with him – it was just that you actually wanted to go do something that he would enjoy. That didn't involve getting frisky.

“Oh, I’m sure” you laugh it off. “But what do you actually want to do? Well, besides, drinking, partying and orgies.”

“Hey, I’m no longer a single man, No orgies for me, anymore.”

“Anymore?”

“Forget I said that.” He snaps back, pointing his finger towards you. To which you just laugh, you cant tell if he's joking or not but... hey, you don’t judge.

But wait, what did he say? The realisation only dawns on you now.

“So no longer a single man huh?”

“Well, I was assuming by now… Y'know.” He shrugs blankly at you, like an idiot.

You shake your head and chuckle. “You telling Richard I’m your girlfriend doesn’t count as asking me out. You have to do it properly.”

Collin stops walking for a minute and plays with the sleeve of his leather jacket. LED flashing a sickly yellow for a moment, clearing his throat – even though he obviously did not need to – he starts to ask. “Uh, Will you -“

“Shouldn’t we wait for Connor?” You interrupt him.

“I can ask for the both of us.”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“That’s a shame.” He responds even though he clearly seemed relieved that he didn’t have to ask you alone. Even though he pretty much knew what your response was going to be he was still nervous. Maybe it was too soon.

Most couples date for a few months before they make it official but you had been friends for such a long time now, does that make it okay? Where you weirded out by the power dynamic? Was being with two different people too much? Did you feel pressured into this relationship?

Collin's head felt like it was spinning, he tried his best to hide it behind his smile. Hopefully, he could maintain the blue of his LED, if he really focused he could keep it blue. – something he taught himself to do a few years back. It took a lot of concentration but it was possible.

“Anyway.” Your voice pulls him back into reality. “Back to my main point, before we get side-tracked again.” You turn to look at him, finger poking him in the center of his chest. “What do you want to do today?”

“Shit, I don’t know.” He looks around with a clueless expression. Apart of you wonders if he’s ever eve been asked this question before.

“Maybe we could go to the park? Oh!” his face sparks up for a moment. “I have a Frisbee in my car.”

“Sounds great!” You chime back. Smiling at how enthusiastic he had become over a Frisbee.

Both of you had spent a good few hours in the park. Just walking around, playing Frisbee and talking the biggest load of nonsense. You even got to meet some nice dogs, which is always a bonus.

Because it was just you and Collin, you both got some horrendously unhealthy, greasy food from a food truck but damn it was good. You both had a laugh at the thought of what Connor would say about it. The hours had passed way too quickly. Soon it was time to head home, but something stopped you, the sound of a child crying.

You almost sent Collin into a full-blown panic when you had disappeared out of his sight to go investigate it. Thankfully he spotted you before you had fully immersed yourself into the trees to seek the kid out.

Collin approached you in a light jog to keep up only to find you down on your knees talking to a small weeping boy. A human boy.

Before Collin could complain about you running off you had reached out to pull Collins hand down in order for him to be crouching to talk to the little boy as well.

“He lost his family.” Your face turned to Collin.

Collin briefly let his LED slip back to the yellow colour he had been trying so hard to hide that day. Immediately it caught the kid’s attention.

“I don’t want to go to the pound!” he blurts out, tears filling up his eyes. “Davey said it’s scary there.”

You hush the little boy before offering him your hand. “You won’t have to go near that place, I promise.”

He slowly places his tiny little dirt-covered hand in your own. You stand to your feet and help the little boy up.

“Can you help?” You whisper to Collin.

His lips go thin for a moment as he thinks. “Not without taking him to the pound to get his chip checked.”

Your eyebrows turn up in worry, not wanting to break your promise to the kid. “isn’t there something you can do?”

“Well, human matters aren’t in my division of work. I can’t do anything but Richard might be able to pull some strings.”

“Are you serious?” You wince at the thought of getting Richard involved.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for even suggesting it but he does have the city in his pocket basically.” He grumbles, scratching the back of his head. “He’s got connections, he could get a chip scanner sent out here. We wouldn’t even have to leave the park.”

“That would be preferable.” You sigh. “Would he even agree?”

“Only one way to find out.” Collin lifts his phone from his pocket. “I’ll call him, you walk the kid around the park, see if you can find his family anywhere.”

You nod and take the child’s hand again, following Collins instructions.

___

You had no luck finding the child’s family. The sun was starting its descent, painting the sky with shades of pink and orange clouds.

“It looks like ice cream.” You smile down at the little boy’s observation. “What’s your favourite Ice cream?” You ask, in an attempt to keep the child entertained.

“Strawberry!” He perks up in glee.

“I’ve never tried strawberry ice cream before.”

“What!” The Child almost seems offended by your confession. “Lady, you haven’t lived.”

“Is that so?” You giggle.

“He’s got a point.” Collin was quick to quip back.

The three of you were standing outside the park gates, it was closing up soon. At the rate this was going you would either be forced to take the kid to the pound or back to the apartment. Neither of which was ideal and would probably scare the poor kid out of his wits.

Finally, a familiar sleek black car had pulled up beside you. The doors swing open to reveal Richard, stepping out with a small white device in hand. the child’s hand wrapped tighter around yours as Richard came closer. You couldn’t blame the kid, Richard did look intimidating as hell as he approached, like some type of vampiric villain.

“Arm.” He ordered, hand extending out to the boy which cause you to grimace in response. Richard noticed immediately. With a roll of his eyes, he then squats down to the boy's eye level. He holds his hand out again and asks in a more gentle tone.

“May I please see your arm? I need to scan it so that we can call your family.”

The little boy looks up to you with curious eyes and you nod to him, placing your hand on his shoulder. The boy reluctantly rolls up his sleeve and offers his arm out to Richard.

With a small beep from the device, you had the families contact details. The lady – his mother, sounded like she was in hysterics over the phone. It didn’t take too long for her and her partner to show up, thanking and praising you all for finding their boy. When they had left you made brief eye contact with Richard and thanked him. He simply nodded and got back into his car.

---

Upon arriving home you had to fill Connor in on the eventful day you both had. He seemed just as pissed as you were about the whole drama with Collins ex. He was very proud of the both of you as well as a little shocked at Richard – and his willingness to help - with "the case of the lost child."

Thank goodness that all got sorted. I thought we were going to have to bring that poor kid home with us. That would be so bad.”

“No it wouldn’t, you were great with him.” Collin's hand grazes against your arm.

“Well, I meant it would be scary for the child. Being without his family.”

The Boys both nod in agreement.“I guess kids are lucky that way though.” You sigh. “Android couples always want to adopt little kids, raise them, treat them like their own. Probably only humans that get to experience family life. For some reason, I wasn’t good enough for that.”

Both of the boys go silent.

Oh jeez, you didn’t mean to dump all of that on them in the middle of a casual conversation. Will you ever learn when to stop talking?

“I’m sorry you never got to experience that.” Connor eventually speaks up breaking the silence.

“It’s okay. I'm sorry I shouldn’t have gone off of that tangent. I’m pretty lucky now though. I have you guys, you're both pretty great.” You smile, placing your head on Connor's shoulder and placing your hand on top of Collins.

“And were both grateful to have you.” Connor says placing a kiss on the top of your head. The three of you sit quietly for a while, Connor resting his chin on your head and Collin stroking his fingers down your hand, playing and rubbing on each one of your individual fingers.

While the room was silent you had your suspicions that Collin and Connor where communicating with each other via their minds. That weird mind communication that androids could do with other androids within their proximity. You can usually tell when this happens because Collin sometimes forgets to hide his facial expressions when he does it. Also, their LEDs slightly waver when they communicate this way.

Finally, Collin chooses to speak out first. “So I suppose now is as good as time as any.” He begins.

You adjust yourself to sit up slightly while still leaning against Connor.

“Y/N.”

“Yes?”

“Will you be our girlfriend?”

Collin looked so serious, almost worried that you’d say no. Connor, on the other hand, seemed pretty calm, casually playing with a lock of your hair. You leaned back to look at Connor.

“What he said.” Connor smiles back teasingly.

“Well, I'd have to think about it. You turn back around and look down at your nails before a smile cracks across your face. “of course I will dummy.” You giggle before leaning up and pressing a small kiss against Collin's lips. Connor rubbing small circles on your arm, waiting for his turn. When You and Collin both pull away from each other Connor reaches up his hand to guide your face towards him, stealing a kiss as well.

You hoped every moment could be this sweet.

___

Chapter 29 - Our Time is Running Out

He couldn’t believe he was doing this. What on earth possessed him to go out of his way for a human? That little minx, the cruel temptress had him wrapped around his finger.

He could have kept his pride, refused. But the thought of you upset with him (even more so than you already were) was completely unbearable.

So here he found himself, on a Sunday night, travelling across town, calling in a favour from an old acquaintance just so that he could borrow his chip reader. And for what? Some lost human that you had came across in the park? While you were on a date with his brother?

Richard was disgusted at himself.

Oh how he tried to pull back from you, to forget, to move on. But to no avail. Your laugh, your smile, your scent. It was frivolous. You had taken over his mind like a virus to his system. Oh, how it made him loath himself for feeling this way.

“You will be the death of me.” He sighed looking down at the chip reader sitting in his passenger seat.

You wicked thing.

He hoped the drive would at least clear his mind, help him keep his cool for when you meet again. He found it hard to control himself recently. He had never had this problem before. Perhaps he could only blame himself. He played with fire, allowing himself to get close to you. Now it was time to suffer from the burns.

Why did you have to kiss him, why did he allow it in the first place? It was stupid the whole thing! You were a human. It was unheard of. The only reason he adopted you was to prove a point to Connor, how did this all get so messed up? Maybe he was too arrogant. He was sure at the time that this would have been the best way to get through to his brother, not drive them apart. He wanted to save Connor from his own delusions. But what happened instead was unthinkable.

Richard caught feelings for the human.

The android and the human? It sounded ridiculous.

He braced himself as he drove closer to the destination, not long now. He was just going to get in then get out and try his best to avoid eye contact. Then he saw you. Looking as beautiful as ever, the wind delicately sweeping between your hair. Standing outside the park gates with his brother and a small little boy.

Wait, It was a child that was lost?

Richard pulled his car up beside the gates. He shook his head taking in a deep breath – which he didn’t need – before finally grabbing the scanner and stepping out.

When your eyes fell on him he felt his thirium pump start to rattle in his chest, he tried to ignore it as he approached the three of you. Swept up in his own thoughts he didn’t notice the little boy beginning to cower behind you.

“Arm.” Richard ordered the boy.

He was confused for a moment, why didn’t the child comply? But then his eyes briefly caught yours. You didn’t look pleased.

Shit.

He looked down at the boy then finally realised . Oh. He’s scared?

It’s okay, play it off…

He then knelt down. He could see the boy was still unsure of him so Richard reached out his hand and asked in a gentle tone. “May I please see your arm? I need to scan it so that we can call your family.”

When the boy finally offered his arm, Richard took it and scanned his chip, trying to hide his own shaky uneven feeling from showing in his movements. In an instant, the screen on the device flashed with the boy’s information.

Richard stood up, grabbing Collin’s phone straight out of his hand. He pressed the phone against the screen and gave it back to Collin.

“It should be ringing his family now.”

Collin nodded before holding the phone up to his ear. He moved a little bit away from you, Richard and the boy to speak to the family.

Although, the three of you could hear whoever it was – a female – blubbering down the phone.

You and Richard stood in silence while Collin talked on the phone.

“Don’t worry your family will be here soon.” Richard heard you whisper to the small boy. If his heart could combust it would have at that moment. He didn’t know how to deal with this. How to deal with you. He hated this feeling.

The minutes you waited for the family to arrive felt like hours to Richard. He stood with his arms crossed in silence while you and Collin kept the little boy entertained.

When the family finally arrived Richard was so relieved, he could finally leave. He supposed sure, it was good the child was returned home but mainly he wanted to get the fuck out of this situation as soon as he could.

After the family had given their thanks and praise to the three of you, Richard was on a mission to get back into his car as fast as possible. Before he reached for the handle, he did make brief eye contact with you.

You thanked him. He didn’t know how else to respond so he just nodded in return.

Getting back into his car he watched as you and Collin walked away – presumably to Collin's car – holding hands with each other. Richard cursed himself under his breath before driving off.

___

The next day Richard immersed himself fully within his work, something he usually did when his emotions got in the way. Emotions were so messy. he knew he had to return home soon, something he wasn’t looking forward to. His brothers were usually sat about cooing after you, the human, in HIS house. Maybe his karma was finally catching up with him.

When he arrived home it was quiet. It dawned on him, Collin was back to work again. it was probably just him and you in the apartment at the moment. His initial reaction was to run into his room or office to avoid you but a voice in his head said, ‘no. this is enough. No more hiding.’ He had to talk to you.

Gathering whatever courage he had he straightened himself out before heading into the livingroom. There you were sat cutely curled up in a ball on the couch. Your eyes lazily made their way towards him.

“Hello.” Richard spoke stiffly, trying to look as stoic as he could.

“Hi.” You spoke softly.

Okay, she doesn’t seem too annoyed with me…

Richard knew he had to be careful with his words around you. He knew you wouldn’t eat up the bullshit that he fed to everyone else in his life, no. You were different.

“So, you’re dating my brothers?”

“Yeah.”

“Both of them?”

You nod again in response. Richard bites his lip and sits down on the couch opposite you.

“I acknowledge that we had a rough patch and I apologise for it.” Richard begins speaking looking down at his hands. “I guess I just didn’t realize what we had was over.”

“We had something?” You asked. Richard's face looks up at you in confusion, not understanding what you meant.

“You see, I might be mistaken but I thought in order to ‘have something’ you would have to have, I don’t know, an element of respect for each other? Y’know treating your partner or person of interest as a person or an equal.” You spat back at him.

“It’s more complicated than that, I-” Richard tried to explain himself before you cut him off.

“Listen.” You begin. “I know you have some weird God complex so you can’t wrap your head around it but Connor and Collin treat me like a person. They care about me.”

“I care!” Richard stands up, his eyebrows turning upwards as his voice raises slightly.

You scoff a little. “Do you? Or are you just saying that to get your own way?”

“This is just, all very new to me.” Richard tries to explain further, holding his hand to his chest. “It’s difficult. You’re a human and my people they-”

“Oh grow up.” You finally stand to your feet and begin to walk away from him.

“I’m sorry!” He blurts out, causing you to stop. You turn to him and notice his LED now red.

“For what?” You ask. Maybe a glimmer of hope for him caught in your eyes.

But Richard doesn’t speak. His mouth fumbles around like he’s trying to catch his words but he says nothing.

“Hmm, I thought so.” You sigh and turn back to walk away. Biting your lip you shake your head. He doesn’t care, he’s just trying to control me again.

You will suck the life out of me ~

_________

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Notes: This chapter was heavily inspired by Muse's song 'Time is running out.' Shout out to AO3 user @DarkBlueChocolate for the chapter idea!

Taglist: @connorsdimple @crushedtincan @clussysposts @iris-suoh

#fic: pretty baby #detroit: become human #Detroit: BH #dbh fanfic #detroit become human fan fic #detroit become human #dbh au #rk800 x reader #rk800 x reader x rk900 #rk900 x reader #rk800-60 x reader #rk800-60 #rk900 #rk800 60 #My writing

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atmilliways · 4 years ago

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On the 2nd day of Dethmas this writer gives to thee…

Dec 14 - Kissing under the mistletoe (or office party shenanigans)

Charles gets roped into the role of Santa Clause at the holiday office party.

Charles/Pickles

The dreaded Dethklok Inc. office Christmas party was coming up—dreaded not by the band or most of the employees, who typically had a blast, but by the CFO who had to arrange and organize everything before and after, up to and including the inevitable handful of resulting funeral arrangements.

Charles was looking forward to it even less than usual, because the band had thrown an absolute shitfit to get him to agree to play Santa this year. He didn’t know why they wanted him to do this. The party didn’t even normally have a Santa. His first thought was that it was Toki’s idea, but on second thought Toki tended to lack the charisma to get the rest of the guys to throw in with him on niche interests like that.

But fine. Whatever. He’d agreed to do it once, and next year he could simply point to whatever came of it this year as an argument against repeating the experience.

He kept telling himself that right up until donning the red and white Santa suit, the iconic hat, and the fake beard. (The damn thing was so big that practically all he could see of his own face in the mirror were his eyes. At least they were letting him keep his glasses.) Then he took his seat in a throne-like chair that had been special ordered for the occasion, specially decorated with carvings of presents, the most unsettling depictions of Christmas elves that he’d ever seen, and skulls with real candles balanced on them, lit and already beginning to dribble red and black wax . . . and immediately felt that somewhere in life he must have made a grave, grave mistake to have ended up here.

The band took the stage in the center of the hall, half the room away from where Charles sat, and went into a jumbled “Merry Christmas, go fuck yourselves!” sort of speech. He mostly tuned it out until—

“And hey, errybody,” Pickles slurred into his mic, “don’t ferget ta sit on Santa’s lap and tell ‘im what you want fer Christmas!”

That had not been part of the discussion, let alone the agreement, but at this point what was he going to do about it? Besides hope that grown men and women hired for their professional abilities would have no interest in sitting on the lap of the man who signed their paychecks.

“You can’t have a pony,” Charles said flatly. “There isn’t space for one in the employee barracks, and even if there were it would be both impractical and unsanitary.”

The Klokateer perched on his lap, crushing the feeling out of his legs, tittered and took another sip of his holiday punch through a straw poked up under his mask. “Oo-kay Mr. Grinchy-claus, no pony for me then. Aren’tcha going to say ‘ho ho ho, Merry Christmas’?”

“Ho ho ho. Now go away.”

Laughing drunkenly, the man lurched up and made his way off the Santa podium to get a refill of punch. The next Klokateer in line had an Online Division pin on one shoulder and a spiked eggnog in her hand. Charles braced himself for yet another request for fewer blocks on searching for porn using company computers.

“Hey look, it’sch Schanty Clausche!”

Charles grimaced behind his beard. “Hello, Murderface.”

The first of the boys to visit him, Murderface seemed to be in unusually high spirits. His ass landed on Charles’ knees like a ton of bricks. “Wow,” he crooned with exaggerated delight, “Schanta really does know all the namesch of the good little boysch and girlsch!”

“Very funny. Would you mind telling me whose idea this was?”

The bassist shook his head. “Hey man, I’m not here to narc on my bandmatesch, I’m here to tell Schanta what I want for Chrischtmasch. ”

“Alright. Fine. What would you like for Christmas.”

Murderface looked around furtively, then leaned in and whispered, “A dischguische kit.”

“A . . . disguise kit.”

“Yeah! I’m tired of being mobbed whenever I go out in public, scho I need it. For camouflasche. ”

Charles couldn’t remember a single incident of a fan mob forming for just Murderface; it only ever seemed to happen when one or more of the other band members were with him, though there were probably a few people who did wander up and ask for an autograph. There had been one unfortunately memorable band meeting a few months ago where Murderface had bragged about someone wanting to touch his penis for good luck, pleased at the recognition but at the same time calling said fan an ‘incredibly fucking gay regular jackoff.’

“I’ll, ah, make sure that’s added to the list,” Charles assured him, and breathed a sigh of relief when Murderface nodded in satisfaction and stood to leave.

“Hey, knock knock.”

Charles sighed from the depths of his soul at this second Dethklok visitation. “Who’s there.”

“Nathan Explosion,” said Nathan Explosion, dropping unceremoniously onto his lap.

Luckily, the beard hid Charles’ wince at the impact. He was probably going to have a lot of weird leg bruises tomorrow. “Nathan Explosion who.”

“Nathan Explosion, here to tell you you’re the party ho ho ho! ” Nathan broke into riotous laughter and clapped Charles good-naturedly on the back, causing him to accidentally inhale a mouthful of fake beard.

After a moment to catch his breath, Charles nodded along. “Very amusing. What would you, ah, like for Christmas, Nathan?”

“I need new pants.”

Well, that was unexpectedly straightforward. “New pants. You got it.”

“One hundred pairs. Exactly one hundred.”

“Okay.”

“Just, uh. A couple inches bigger in the waist. For the holiday weight that I am definitely going to lose in January.”

He couldn’t feel his legs; this was not the time to point out that Nathan wouldn’t have time to wear all one hundred pairs of new pants between December 25th and the start of January, nor that January as a deadline for such a drastic fitness undertaking was probably an unrealistic deadline.

“That’s fine, Nathan. One hundred pairs of pants. I’ll make sure, the, ah, elves get the message.” Maybe he would throw in some math flash cards while he was at it.

Toki weighed less than the first two, but was unfortunately so excited that he landed on Charles’ lap hard . Definitely, definitely going to have bruises.

“God Jul, Charles —I means Santa!” the guitarist chirped, bright-eyed and swaying slightly. Charles fervently hoped he wasn’t about to throw up; he didn’t even think being covered in vomit would do much to get him out of this holiday circle of hell. “Merries Christmas!!”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Toki. What do you, ah, want to ask Santa for this year?”

He didn’t have a watch, but he estimated that Toki’s list, plus miscellaneous excited chatter, took at least half an hour and mentioned many things he knew for a fact that Toki already owned.

“Eeuyghh, looks, it ams everys-ones favorites butler,” Skwisgaar said, then folded himself gracefully into a sitting position. After an hour or two of being sat on like this and having plenty to compare it to, Charles wondered if the man was eating enough.

This was in spite of the fact that Skwisgaar was toting around a small plate loaded with various cheeses, fruit, and greasy finger sausages skewered on toothpicks. Party food. To Charles, who hadn’t realized that this gig would take so long and therefore hadn’t eaten in advance, it smelled wonderful.

The Swede must have noticed him eyeing it, or perhaps heard the growl of his stomach over the noise of the surrounding party somehow, because he smirked and held it out in offering. “Pickle says for you to haves this. Gots to keep yous strengths up, you knows.”

Pickles, Charles noted as he balanced the plate off to one side on one of the less obvious and candle-less Christmas skulls. He also pulled one of the sausages free of its toothpick and reached under the beard to jam it in his mouth. Still warm.

“Thank you, Skwisgaar,” he said once he’d finished chewing. “Now, what can I get for you? Ah, as Santa. Ho ho.”

“Everyones know it ams three ‘ho’s, dildo.” Skwisgaar steepled his fingers. “But I woulds like five ins mine room to enjoy ons the Christmas morning. You know the kinds I likes?”

Charles didn’t know what he’d expected. “It’s my job to know, so . . . yes.”

“Greats.” The guitarist patted him on the shoulder of his Santa suit. “Glads that ams sorted outs. Keeps up that good works, yous.”

Then he got up and wandered away, leaving Charles to realize that he hadn’t had a chance to ask him who was behind this whole Santa idea.

Charles finished the plate of food before Pickles made an appearance. He also realized that he could persuade his increasingly inebriated employees to bring him more food, and also drinks, by threatening them with cleanup duty after the party. (He was not in a generous mood; the ones that tried to weasel out of it at first would get cleanup duty regardless of whether they eventually caved or not.) There was no way to escape the alcohol content in the drinks—even when he asked for water it came spiked with vodka or peppermint schnapps, because everyone wanted to see the company’s CFO hammered.

At least they knew better than to roofie him, because Charles would have them killed.

He saw Pickles coming from a mile away. Maybe it was because Charles knew that once all of Dethklok had a chance to visit with “Santa Clause” he would be allowed to escape this torment; maybe it was because he really wanted to know if Pickles was, indeed, the mastermind behind this whole thing; and maybe it was just a tiny bit because he was annoyed the drummer had forgotten to wander over earlier.

But being annoyed at any of the guys was a nonstarter. Putting up with their antics was just part of the job.

“Heeeeeeeeeeey,” Pickles greeted him as he swayed his way over and plopped onto Charles’ lap. Unlike everyone else who had visited Santa this evening, he didn’t stick to perching closer to Charles’ knees but scooted in as close as he could until they were practically nose to nose. Mingled notes of every kind of booze available at the party wafted the short distance from the drummer’s mouth (and shirt, and hands, and dreads), until all Charles could smell was Pickles. “Lookin’ hot in that suit, dood. Is the temp in here okay? Gettin’ a little warm in there?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Charles said, trying not to be too aware that Pickles seemed incapable of sitting still and his ass was rubbing against . . . things. “Ah. Merry Christmas.”

Pickles snickered. “Did Nat’en make that ho joke?”

No one could see for the beard that Charles’ lips twitched toward a smile at that. “Yes, he did.”

“‘M glad yer not a ho, Charlie,” Pickles slurred affectionately. “A'least, not no much'a one. That’d be a bummer.”

“Ah . . . okay.” He didn’t know what to make of that, or the continuing subtle lap dance, so he said, “What would you like for Christmas this year, Pickles?”

“Weeeeell. . . .” Grinning, Pickles waggles his double-pierced eyebrows. It seems like he’s trying to be suggestive, but Charles has no idea what that’s supposed to suggest. The drummer leaned even closer, lips brushing against Charles’ ear as he murmurs, “I kinda already got my present right in front’a me, chief. Just gotta unwrap it.”

All of this was sending shivers and goosebumps down Charles’ spine under the (admittedly warm) Santa suit, but for heaven’s sake, it was just Pickles. When wasted, which he was more often than not, man oscillated between being a destructive drunk and clingy one. Apparently tonight it was . . . very much so the latter. Not a good time to ask about the Santa plot, really.

He had dealt with this before, just not with Pickles literally draped over and inconspicuously grinding on him. Come on, Offdensen, pull it together . Do not get a boner at the holiday office party. No matter how long it’s been!

“Well, ah, sounds like you’re all taken care of then,” Charles hazarded. “All that’s left to do is, ah, enjoy the party. Why don’t you go do that.”

Pickles chuckled, a low, sultry sound that just made the situation even more difficult. “Workin’ on it dood, I’m workin’ on it.” He shifted thoughtfully again, then bit his lip through a grin. “And it feels like we’re gettin’ there, huh chief?”

“I. Ah, what?” At least the big fake beard was concealing his blush better than he’d been able to contain his body’s mounting interest in the increasingly distracting ass squirming around on top of him. This is a public place , he wanted to protest, but didn’t want to risk pointing out something that might be completely unintentional. After all, it was Pickles , who did this sort of thing fairly regularly.

But the next murmured words out of Pickles’ mouth stopped every single one of Charles’ thoughts in their tracks.

“Fuck, even in this stupid suit yer sexy. How d’you do that?” A brief nip, teeth closing and tugging on Charles’ earlobe before releasing with a soft wet pop .

Nothing but overwhelmed static on the other side of that ear; the quiet gasp was completely involuntary.

“C’mon Charlie,” Pickles all but whined, “you don’t have to do this anymore. Jest call it a night and meet me in the bathroom or somethin’, okie?”

The amazing thing, Charles thought distantly, was that from a distance, it wouldn’t look like anything was happening. Just a grown man, swaying drunk off his ass, sitting on Santa’s lap to whisper what he wanted for Christmas. Regular office holiday party shenanigans for a laugh. But under the surface, Charles was starting to feel like a shaken champagne bottle.

“You, ah,” he managed. “You do realize that you, ah, seem to be prepositioning me for, ah. Sex?”

Pickles leaned into him with a laugh. “Like I said, dood, that’s what I’m tryin’ ta do. Fer like, fuckin’ forever. For a smart guy you can be pretty stupid, y’know that?”

“Ah.” Charles shifted awkwardly and nearly choked when Pickles very pointedly pushed into it at the exact right moment. “There’s . . . a chance I’ve been told that before,” he hedged, already vowing to himself that he would never admit how many times. This isn’t something he ever would have looked for, but mistaking Pickles hitting on him for god only knew how long for just being an affectionate drunk? That was pretty fucking funny if you thought about it, and he'd consumed just enough alcohol so far to really give it some very serious thought.

And . . . his job was to keep everyone in the band happy.

“So, ah. There are several bathrooms off this hall. . . . Which one did you have in mind?”

#metalocalypse #metalocalypse fanfic #chuckles #12 days of dethmas

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five-by-five · 4 years ago

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on beta king's canyon, spacetime folds and the death of a hero

so here's the huge beta KC theory i was talking about. for the uninitiated: shadowfall is canon, it's an actual dimension separate from “our” apex games, multiple dimensions have been proven to be a thing in the apex universe by the wraith cinematic, and i have a theory on how the particular beta dimension came to be. wanna preface this by saying this isn't a lore prediction but rather just me filling in the blanks and being a tf lore nerd bc what else is new

courtesy text break bc this is Long

it all starts... with effect and cause in titanfall 2. remember that mission? major anderson in the ceiling, the weird looking corpses everywhere, the fold weapon test explodes, leaving cooper conscious in a world frozen in time. we know very little about the ark, but this scene reveals to us that it is powerful enough to manipulate spacetime (and before you ask, the full scale fold weapon does the same thing and cooper doesn’t have the wrist device from effect and cause there)

my theory is that the ark rippled time so strongly here that it created a separate timeline to split off from our “main” timeline, visualised here:

note: the present day was originally 2733 but a year has passed in the lore too as indicated by the writers on twitter, making the present day 2734)

WHAT makes the beta dimension so radically different from the alpha dimension? one simple answer. in the beta dimension, jack cooper died in the explosion caused by the fold weapon test.

the catalyst of the militia victory on typhon dying and hence not causing the destruction of typhon has MASSIVE effects for the course of the frontier wars. the ark gets delivered to the fold weapon, with no one to stop them. no one succeeds in stopping the imc from destroying the entire planet of harmony, home of the militia. the militia never win the war. imc forces grow ever stronger. they have more resources, more territory, more power than in the alpha universe. they invest more in ARES division, and they invest more in hammond robotics, because... well... we all know hammond robotics and the imc and the syndicate hold hands. one significant thing remains the same: kuben blisk still founds the apex games as usual, bc he’s rich and bored and well, blisk.

especially the different hammond robotics is here, because a major player in the beta dimension is associated with them: revenant. well. god revenant. but how exactly did he come to be god revenant in the beta dimension?

let’s superimpose revenant’s timeline over the diagram above.

revenant was already seeking out hammond robotics employees to kill before the events of titanfall 2, before the fold weapon test made the timelines split off. however, with the imc victory and subsequent flourish of hammond robotics, they are much, much better equipped to deal with one (1) murderous simulacrum trying to kill all their employees. they manage to capture him again, make him more pliable. maybe they already have shadow technology at their disposal. maybe they experimented on him with said shadow technology. maybe they unintentionally created a more powerful revenant, invulnerable, in an eternal state of shadow. maybe they created... a god.

the more powerful hammond also succeeded in something else: effectively silencing loba from ever speaking out about what she witnessed in the restaurant that fateful night. no doubt beta dimension loba has the same fierce determination and strong will, but this hammond she can’t beat. she never comes in the position where she goes to look for the demônio. maybe she was finally succesfully lost in the undoubtedly hammond operated foster system. maybe she got caught in bureaucracy. or maybe... she could not fight any longer against the multi headed beast that is hammond robotics after an imc victory.

meanwhile shadow revenant is having a grand time. he kills hammond employees anyway because that’s what he does, but when you’re immortal that might get a bit... boring. so he goes looking for something else to do, and his attention is attracted by the one thing that’s adverstised all across the frontier. the apex games.

shadow revenant stages a coup on the apex games. he kills kuben blisk (it’s what he deserves), he kills the entirety of the syndicate. he takes over the games. watching. waiting.

now let me include something that wasn’t my own observation but one by @brokenghostt . included a screenshot bc this is better explained:

blisk (alpha dimension blisk!) throws ash’s head into something that looks like the ark. now this is where my theory gets a little shaky, but obviously there’s something going on with beta KC that made it so that pathfinder got there in his “nightmare” in the first place, and what made ash’s head end up there after being thrown in what-is-possibly-the-ark. the events of the could be another crucial point in that timeline, the ark’s energy being somehow connected to it since it’s a timeline that split off caused by ark technology in the first place?

either way, this is my theory on how beta kc came to be. i have one more point i want to bring up, why did i specifically bring up effect and cause?

you know those jumpscare zombies in the shadowfall ltm?

these guys? (thank u @blyaem for the screenshot <3)

they’re the same as the corpses found in effect and cause, albeit a bit retextured (couldn’t get a screencap of the exact same one but it’s There in the mission):

...which would strengthen my argument of the ark keeping connections to events that were crucial in it causing to split timelines.

anyway that’s it, if you read it this far: 1) why 2) you are either hyperfixating like me or have the patience of a saint, thank you for reading

TL;DR jack cooper died in an alternate timeline, makes local murderous sim into a god

#apex legends #apex #revenant #long post #long long long post #apex lore #JACK COOPER I AM SO SORRY ILY SM BUT THE THEORY HAD TO MAKE SENSE #i really just did write almost 1k words on a silly theory huh!!!

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possiamo-andare · 5 years ago

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No More Divisions - Chapter Three: The Jacuzzi

JJ x Original Character

I'd like to give a small shoutout to @fangirling-allday for giving me such a sweet comment. You have inspired me to write another chapter so this one is dedicated to you! <3

MASTERLIST

If I could only describe Sarah's younger sister, Wheezie, in one word it'd be difficult. I've met her a total of two times and both times she's been difficult. She always has to put her two cents into every conversation and she asks so many questions.

Trust me, I love curious people but Wheezie isn't just curious, she's nosy. She's basically the stereotypical annoying younger sister.

With that being said, she no longer was difficult to me anymore. She was our hero. The cup with the string attached to it ended up being a makeshift phone where Wheezie could hear us from her room.

At first, Sarah was going to try and explain to Wheezie the truth but it was clear that within the first few minutes of talking to her, Rafe had gotten to her first and poisoned her mind.

So, since telling the truth didn't work, we decided to lure her into Sarah's room. Our plan was to get Sarah to fake cry hard enough to get Wheezie to unlock the door to come comfort her sister. When she opened the door, we'd then explain to her that we needed her to pretend to be us in the room as we slipped out the front door.

This plan was foolproof.

That is, until Wheezie asked a question we hadn't even thought she'd ask.

"If John B. didn't do it, who did?"

Sarah and I looked at each other as this child stood in front of us, begging to know the truth. We didn't know what to say. How do you tell a child that their brother was a murderer? Sarah shook her head at me. It wasn't the time nor place. Wheezie would find out eventually but not right now.

"We have to do something first," I say, crouching down to meet her gaze. "But you need to promise us that you'll be here for as long as you can."

Wheezie nodded, furrowing her brows together. I could tell she still didn't understand what was going on but she wanted to help out as best she could.

"Can you do that for us?" Sarah asked, her pinkie out towards her sister.

Wheezie nodded again, this time holding onto Sarah's pinkie finger with her own.

We tucked Wheezie into Sarah's bed and created another "person" under the sheets with a pillow and blacket so it would seem as if Sarah and I took a nap. After we said our goodbyes, we turned off the lights and quietly made our way downstairs.

I was barely breathing as we crept down the stairs, hoping not to cause a commotion even by breathing heavily. Once we successfully made it down the stairs, Sarah led me to the sliding windows in the back on the house. As Sarah quietly opened them, I was the lookout. I could hear the faint distance of talking with the tv drowning out what the actual words between the two people were. I could tell Ward and Rafe were bickering but I couldn't make out what they were saying, only that Ward was mad.

Sarah nudged me softly, getting my attention as she pointed to the open sliding doors. We quickly made our way out of the house before quietly closing the doors again.

After the doors were fully closed, we took off running. Sarah's bike was at the front of her house and now that it was darker, we were sure that Ward or Rafe couldn't see us from outside.

Once we found Sarah's bike, Sarah told me to sit on the handlebars as she rode out of the neighbourhood. She said she had a suspicion where John B. was and wanted to see if she was right. Once we made it out of the neighbourhood, we were swarmed with flashlights and dozens of people looking for John B. Apparently there was a $25,000 reward for whoever caught him and everyone in OBX was making it their mission to find him. People young and old, even children, perused the streets calling out for John B. as if there was any way in hell he'd answer back.

As we rode, we stopped to ask people where they were going. Some were going to the ferry, others were going to the docks where they knew many Pogues hung out but what we found was that no one was going to the Bell Tower, where Sarah believed John B. was. Although I wanted to go with her and make sure she was safe, I knew I couldn't go.

"I can't go with you." I say to Sarah as she peddles forward.

"What?" Sarah asks, holding onto her breaks as her bike comes to a stop.

"I have to go to JJ's house and help them. I'm sure they are doing something for John B. there. They need my help more than you do." I say, getting off the handle bars and crossing my arms over my stomach this time.

Since my clothes were stained with blood, Sarah lent me her clothes. Everything she had was cropped which wasn't usually my style but it was the only option. I had changed into a purple tube top with black ripped jean shorts and although Sarah said I looked awesome, this cropped top made me super self conscious.

"Okay. I'll give you JJ's address and you help him and Kiara and Pope. I'll find John B. We'll meet at the JJ's father's dock at 3pm tomorrow. Okay?" Sarah smiles at me, grabbing my arm for a moment to reassure me. She tells me JJ's address and I repeat it back to her to remember it.

I nod to her as a way of saying bye. "Okay. See you tomorrow. Stay safe until then."

We both smile at eachother and then briefly hug. It's weird that even in a time like this, where our lives are literally in shambles, we still have the time to smile and hug eachother.

"Love you Callie." Sarah whispers to me as we hug.

I pull away from her. "Love you Sarah."

And with that, Sarah is off again. She peddles away from me, not looking back once. I stay completely still until I can't see her anymore. Until she's into the woods so much so that she becomes a dark little speck.

Once Sarah's completely gone, I take off running like a madman. I run on the pavement, my sneakers slamming down on the sidewalk the faster I run. I run down one street and turn and then turn again. I continue to run until I don't recognize the houses as Kook houses but Pogue houses. I run until I get to JJ's street and I count the number of houses I pass until I come upon JJ's.

JJ's house is more like a shack than a home. A home is where you feel safe and cozy. I don't think I'd ever feel safe here. The screen on one of the sides of the house is ripped. It looks like somebody ran through it and I wouldn't be surprised if someone did. JJ had a reputation after all. He got into fights, stole, and hated Kooks. He hated them so much that he'd start fights with them for no reason. This made me question why he was so nice to me. I understood why he was nice to Sarah, but why me? If I was a Kook and he hated Kooks, why was he nice to me?

I decide that since it's so late, not to ring on the doorbell but instead make my way to the backyard and see if anyone's there. Once I get closer to the backyard, I hear people talking and I hear a distinct voice. I recognize it as Kiara's.

"Pope make sure you get two gallons of gas. Not one. He'll need two if he's ever gonna cross the border."

I try to make my way quietly over to them but a stick breaks under the pressure of my foot and it makes a loud noise.

"Who's there?!" JJ yells from his place on the jacuzzi.

Wait. A jacuzzi? Why does his house look like a shack, but he has a jacuzzi.

It was dark when I first arrived but someone turned on the lights and I soon see all three of John B.'s friends much more clearly. Pope is sitting on the floor beside Kiara who is sitting on a chair in front of JJ, who is sitting on the ledge of the jacuzzi. They all look very happy to be with one another, even though something bad is happening to their friend. I guess that's what happens when your only family is your friends; you're always glad to see them.

"It's me, Callie." I say, loud enough for them to hear. I'm only 10 feet away from them now and I can see all of them turn around in shock this time. JJ is literally so shocked to see me he stands up to greet me.

"C-callie." JJ stutters.

"Where's Sarah?" Kiara asks, walking up to me and giving me a hug. I return it with open arms.

Kiara was always so nice to me even if Sarah and her didn't get along.

Sarah always told me not to talk to Sarah but Kiara and I shared the same biology class and our interest in the environment allowed for us to bond. We were never close and rarely spoke outside of school but she was a sweet girl and I'm so glad Sarah and Kiara are friends again. Maybe after all of this is over, we can finally hang out. If all of this ever is over.

"She's looking for John B. She says she knows where he is." I reply as Kiara pulls away from me and I get a chance to greet everyone.

I hug Pope briefly. He was always nice to me whenever he saw me with his father and I think we've talked about four times. Each time he was sweet and very pleasant so I'm glad he's here to help. I can tell he's very on edge about the whole situation and I'm not surprised if I look as nervous as him.

Then there's JJ. I make my way to him and give him an awkward hug. He pats my back and then we quickly move away from each other. I've never talked to him before and I've never heard good things. Yet, all of those bad things were from Rafe and he's not exactly a model citizen. I decide to see how he is now and make my own decisions about his personality.

There's a small amount of silence that passes through us and Pope breaks it by talking. "Did you actually see Rafe kill the Sheriff?"

I nod. Kiara, JJ, and Pope all look at eachother in disbelief. They knew Rafe was crazy but never like this. I don't think anyone could think Rafe could do this, no matter how cruel he was.

I want to change the subject so badly that I end up asking, "What were you guys just doing?" I glance at the notebook on Kiara's chair.

It has all their names on it with different things to do. Pope is supposed to get two gallons of gas, Kiara is suppose to get food from her parents restaurant and JJ is supposed to get his dad's keys. This is definitely a list of things for them to do but I don't know what for.

"We're getting a boat for John B. with food and gas so he can get away." Pope answers me.

I look to Kiara who is not meeting my gaze. "I thought we were gonna clear his name."

I hear JJ scoff from behind me. "Yeah, we tried that. These officers have tunnel vision. John B. has to leave, at least until we can clear his name."

I turn and look to JJ. I could tell he's been observing me since I came. I know he doesn't trust me like Kiara and Pope do. I dont know why but my gut tells me it's because I'm a Kook and he hasn't had the best experiences with Kooks.

"How can I help?" I ask, turning to face everyone. They've all gathered around me now and I'm ready to hear what they have to say.

"JJ is gonna give me a hand with getting all of John B.'s food. You can help. We need some extra hands." Kiara says, grabbing her notebook and writing it down.

I nod. "Okay."

"Well," JJ sighs, looking to Kiara. "I hope you know what you're doing."

Kiara rolls her eyes at JJ and then looks to me. "I do."

After each plan is made down to the last detail, I finally feel a little at peace. The final plan is that Pope is gonna take two gallons of gas from his dad's shop and try not to get caught (I hope that Mr. Heyward is not too pissed off). JJ, Kiara and I will get food from her dad's restaurant for John B. for at least two weeks. And JJ will steal the keys to his father's old racing boat. We will all meet at the garage where the boat is at the bring it back to JJ father's dock for 3pm tomorrow.

After everything is written and memorized, we all lay blankets down on the floor and decide to sleep. I take the edge and Kiara takes the other. Pope takes a spot beside Kiara while I get stuck with JJ. I'm not facing him when he lays down so I can't tell if he's disappointed or not but I can imagine he's not exactly thrilled to sleep beside me.

"Night." Kiara yawns before turning over. Pope does the same and before I can reply, I hear their soft snores.

JJ says nothing to me and I actually like it that way. I'm beyond exhausted and I don't want to have to deal with him if he's just gonna be cruel. He hasn't be outright mean to me but he hasnt exactly been hospitable while I've been here so I'm a little scared to talk to him alone.

Five minutes later, I'm asleep and dreaming. Except dreaming is supposed to be fun but this is a complete nightmare.

I see the sheriff on the floor like how I did this morning and I try to rush towards her. I'm calling out to her and running as fast as my feet will take me but she's just getting father and farther away. I am forced to watch her bleed out but I'm not getting any closer. I look down at my feet and see that my feet are stuck in cement and I can't move them. I'm yelling to the Sheriff but she can't hear me. I'm drenched in blood and I see Rafe. He's looking right at me. I call to him and he laughs and lifts his right hand to point a gun at me.

Before I can scream, I wake up. It's almost dawn now and the space where JJ was sleeping is empty. I sit up and look around.

Kiara and Pope are still sleeping. They look so cute cuddled up together. I look around more, trying to find JJ. I finally find him in the jacuzzi.

The water is up to his chest but the jacuzzi is not on. He's just sitting in a jacuzzi that's not on which has to be one of the most depressing things I've ever seen. My heart aches for him. There is something up and I want to make him feel better.

I stand up and walk towards the jacuzzi and where JJ is sitting. He's playing with the water and moving it with his hands. I don't think he realizes he's even doing it. Once I get to the jacuzzi, I rest my elbow on the ledge and JJ finally sees me.

"What are you doing up?" He asks, a little surprised to see me.

"I should ask you the same thing." I smirk, letting one of my hands touch the water. It's hot. He must've just got in.

"I can't sleep." He says. He seems detached and cold, as if he doesn't want to talk about something.

"Bad dream?" I ask. I don't mean to pry but sometimes I can't help it. Especially when someone is feeling sad. I want to help.

JJ nods. He quickly looks up to me but then quickly looks back to the water.

"Same actually." I sigh, my hand now also absentmindedly playing with the water.

"About the Sheriff?" JJ asks, actually holding eye contact with me this time.

I nod. "How did you know?"

"You were yelling her name." JJ answered, closing his eyes for a second to take a deep breath. "This jacuzzi actually helps me with my anxiety alot. Especially with nightmares."

"Really?" I ask, a little skeptical on why he's brought this up.

"Yep." JJ nods, finally moving closer to me. "Would you like to come in?"

I don't know whether I should or not. On one hand, I barely know this guy and he's already indirectly asked to to strip and get into a jacuzzi with him. On the other hand, I bet that hot water would feel amazing on my skin and very relaxing. Even though my better judgement tells me no, I go against in. I might get arrested for aiding and abetting tomorrow so what the hell.

"Okay, but close your eyes until I get in." I narrow my eyes at him, being a little sarcastic but at the same time I'm completely serious.

JJ rolls his eyes. "Please, don't flatter yourself Kook."

I frown. "Just do it."

JJ nods and closes his eyes and then covers his closed eyes with his hands. Once I know he's not peeking, I take off my sneakers and unbuckle my jeans. I lift my tube top over my head and lay it neatly beside all if my other clothes. Now I'm in my black underwear and pink strapless bra. I curse Sarah in my brain. If I knew a boy was gonna see my bra and underwear today, I would've told her to make them match.

I slowly get into the water as JJ sits across from me, hands still over his eyes. It's really warm and my skin starts having goosebumps the more I emerge myself in the water. Once the water gets to my shoulder, I shudder a little. This water feels amazing on my muscles. I've been running around and fighting all day yesterday that I completely forgot what it did to my body. Now, I realize how achy I really am.

"Okay." I say, my hands absentmindedly playing with the water between my fingers.

JJ finally uncovers his eyes and opens them. When he does, there's a smirk on his face. And it's directed towards me which is super surprising.

"Feels nice, right?"

I nod and continue to play with the water. "What's this beauty's name?"

JJ smirks. "Finally someone who appreciates the finer things in life."

I laugh. "I'm thinking Cherry." Cherry was a Kook JJ had slept with last year and I had only heard about it because she had slept outside his house overnight to prove her devotion to him. It was just about the funniest thing ever. Sad to say it didn't work out between them.

JJ rolls his eyes. "Although that is a very good guess, it's actually called cat's ass."

I snorted. "You weirdo."

JJ rolls his eyes. "I think it's weirder you remember Cherry. You obsessed with me or something Callie?"

This time I roll my eyes. "Cherry was the funniest story ever. The day I start to like you JJ is the day of my demise."

"Well, I think this is the start of your demise then."

I don't say anything but I kinda know JJ's correct. Before long there's a silence between us. It's not like last time. This time, it's a comfortable silence. Like we're both just relaxing together and not worrying about John B. or Sarah or the Royal Merchant.

"What was your dream about?" I ask, my eyes closed now. I could fall asleep like this if JJ wasn't here.

When JJ doesn't answer me, I try not to take it personally. Only when I hear the water moving a little too loudly, I open my eyes. JJ is moving towards me and now I'm super aware that I'm basically naked. In an attempt for him not to see my bra, I cross my arms over my chest.

When he finally sits beside me, he speaks, "You don't wanna know."

I scoff. "Oh yeah, sorry my little privileged ass could never handle your mind." My tone is dripping with sarcasm and JJ is smiling as I speak.

"Yeah basically." JJ confirms, only making me more pissed off.

"I know that my demons could never compare to yours, but I have them too." I roll my eyes at him and look to the water, away from his gaze.

"What demons? You're a Kook." I could feel his smirk as he said this.

I look back to him. "Being a Kook doesn't protect you from the bad shit in life. Hasn't what's happened yesterday proved that?"

JJ doesn't answer me. For a moment, he's just taking in what I've said. I don't think anyone's ever done that. I don't think anyone's ever just thought about what I said so deeply as JJ is now.

Finally, he speaks. "Are you still with Rafe?"

I scan JJ's face for a moment before answering. Does he wanna know because he thinks I'm gonna betray them or because he wants to know if I'm taken. I can't tell but either way I'm gonna answer him.

"No, we broke up weeks ago." When I answer, I make sure to see JJ's reaction but he gives me no reaction. This guy is really good at hiding his emotions.

"Cool." I want to ask him what he's thinking but I can't.

I want to look away from him but I can't. JJ is acting so differently from when I first met him that I can't help but start to like him. He's already changed his views on me by talking to me. I know he'll never like or trust me 100%, but to know he respects me enough helps.

There's been a long silence between us and I want it to end.

"So," I say, wanting this awkwardness to stop. "What was your dream about?"

JJ takes a deep breath and looks away from me. We must've been staring in each other's eyes for 10 minutes. It feels like that anyways.

He doesn't answer me again, just stands up from the jacuzzi and hops out. He grabs a towel that was hanging from a wire and dries off his swimming trunks before hanging it back up on the wire. Then I see it. There's purple spots all over his torso. He looks like he just got into a fight and he wasn't the winner. I look for defensive wounds but there's none I can see. Taking a beating and not defending yourself does not seem like something JJ would do. I realize that maybe he didn't fight back because he cared for the person beating him.

As he puts on his shirt, I speak up. "Did your dad do that?" I'm still in the water and I feel a little colder now that JJ is no longer inside.

He looks up at me once he has his shirt on. "We all have different demons Callie. Some are just worse than others."

And with that, he's walking back to where Kiara and Pope are sleeping. And I'm stuck here, in a jacuzzi I don't even want to be in anymore. It's not the same without JJ.

#jj obx #jj outer banks #jj x oc #jj x callie #jj maybank #kiara carrera #kiara outer banks #pope outer banks #pope heyward #john b routledge #john b #john b outer banks #john b obx #sarah cameron #sarah outer banks #obx netflix #obx #obx fanfiction #outer banks

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soveryanon · 4 years ago

Text

Reviewing time for MAG183!

- I’m not sure I can manage to put it into words quite right but: sounds-wise, this episode’s domain didn’t feel mind-blowingly new, it wasn’t something that felt “Oh! I’ve never heard something like this before!”? But the echoes, grinding and scratching were timed so well, giving so much strength and gravitas to the conversations, that it perfectly scratched an itch. I could hear that there was something close to Jon and Martin, that it was big, and mostly deserted, that it stood eerily in the overall wasteland, that they were two people alone against a whole world, a whole machine with gears and a mechanism ready to crush anyone?

- I LIVE for artist!Martin giving his commentary and overall throwing shade at the Fears’ taking of artistic licence liberties:

(MAG183) MARTIN: Oh, bugger off! ARCHIVIST: Everything all right? MARTIN: Oh, no, what e–, what e–, what even is that? It, it’s like Escher ate a bad cathedral and threw up everywhere.

He had shown interest in the Stranger’s carousel upon learning that the statements had been a poem, but shots fired for that tower, uh.

- Jon and Martin were so cute starting the episode! Their quick banter was adorable!

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: It’s a building. A tower. … In a sense. MARTIN: Oh yeah? A–and what sense might that be? ARCHIVIST: [FAINTLY OMINOUS] … The Tarot sense. MARTIN: [SPLUTTERS WITH LAUGHTER] Really? ARCHIVIST: Wha–? No? Sorry, it… felt like a good line…! MARTIN: No, no, it was, I just… I dunno, I… [FOND EXHALE] You did the look, and…! It’s fine, sorry.

Martin being IN LOVE and appreciating Jon’s cuteness! The return of Jon showing that he’s an occult/horror nerd! We had seen in season 2 that he was generally very knowledgeable about anything related to the supernatural, and in season 4 that he was into Neil Lagorio’s movies, I’m happy to get another trace of it!

(MAG076) MELANIE: So I came here to dig a bit deeper. ARCHIVIST: Really? Our… our library is extensive, but it’s hardly focused on the Second World War. MELANIE: No, but the most detailed description of the crash that I could find came from the report of a man called William W. Hay. And later in life William Hay… ARCHIVIST: Became a noted occultist, whose memoirs and researches were only ever published in a heavily edited form. And we have unexpurgated copies. MELANIE: Exactly.

(MAG136) ARCHIVIST: [INHALE] Statement ends. Hm. Neil Lagorio… You ever see any of his work? DAISY: No. Not really into films. ARCHIVIST: Oh, they were… Well, let’s just say that it’s not a complete shock there was something unnatural to them. Didn’t know we had copies in the Institute, though; let alone original cuts. [CHUCKLE] Records indicate they [PAPER RUSTLING] ended up in… Artefact Storage. DAISY: Probably best that they stay there. ARCHIVIST: … Yeah. Yes, of course.

But SOB x2 since:

* Tower-in-the-tarot-sense meaning ominous stuff… and change. (While Jon knew they would soon come face to face with the choice to take the route through Martin’s domain.)

* Crying over the fact that we’ve seen and learned quite a few outside-of-the-job aspects of Jon this season, comparatively to the previous ones? He’s cute! He’s making jokes! He mentioned his student days a bit in MAG165, and visiting Upton House as a kid in MAG180! And this is happening when the world has been forked over and Jon&Martin certainly won’t survive together past MAG200, which means they have at most seventeen episodes together remaining. Martin, and we alongside him, are seeing so many different, more casual aspects of Jon, and it’s at the end of things…

- I really like how information bounced around in this episode? It felt even more dynamic than usual, quickly shifting depending on some reaction, or going from an association to another:

(MAG183) MARTIN: What, what’s the deal, though? Parts of it almost look like– ARCHIVIST: The Institute. MARTIN: Yeah…! ARCHIVIST: Yes. [INHALE] It makes sense, after all it was… built on the ruins of what Robert Smirke constructed…! MARTIN: Smirke? … What, no! But, but, surely he’s– ARCHIVIST: Dead, yeah, I mean, yes. [CHUCKLING] Very much so! This place is… an homage, shall we say. A monument. To him, and those like him, who tried to… categorise the world with themselves at the centre. In so doing, constructed the architecture of its suffering…!

Ohohoh about Martin feeling like the tower looked a bit like the Institute, and Jon drawing similarities through Smirke – the Institute being built on the ruins of a Smirke building, and the current domain being dedicated to people like him. The Institute is coming closer and weighing on their minds, isn’t it? I really like that Martin immediately worried about Smirke potentially being alive-ish, since:

(MAG138) MARTIN: “The Eye has marked me for something, of this I have no doubt. My… humble hope is that it may be a swift death, an accidental effect of your own researches, which I once again implore you to abandon. It is likely too late for me, but I will not…” [PAPER RUSTLE] Uh… [INHALE] The, hum… The letter ends there. Uh… Ap–apparently Robert Smirke was found collapsed in his study that evening, dead of, uh… [FLIPPING THROUGH PAPERS] Apoplexy. Mm. I–I don’t know how the letter reached the Archives, I mean… Well, I can guess, but…

… he had read Smirke’s last words before he died. (But Martin has seen enough by now to know that there is always a risk for people to not have actually died; on that front, we’re safe, Jon confirmed! Loving Jon’s chuckle: ah yeah, no, Smirke, “very much so” dead from Jonah.)

(Also loved the “[those] who tried to categorise the world with themselves at the centre” shade: yep! That’s West-Eurocentrism and Smirke’s little gang for you!)

- About the way the world works now since the Change, I’m curious about Jon’s wording as “the architecture of [the world’s] suffering”, since it’s echoing the title of Smirke’s statement, “The Architecture of Fear”: my understanding is that right now, the world is mostly running on a loop of people’s fears => feeding and shaping the landscape => which hurts people by turning those realised fears against them => squeezing the fear out of them => feeding the landscape, etc.

What is quite curious is the status of Smirke’s taxonomy in the current world. Jon went off on a rant about how Smirke and people who attempted to classify had been wrong all along because it was meant to fail… while he himself has persistently been using the very same classifications during this very season:

(MAG166) ARCHIVIST: Look, we can talk about it later, we’re– coming to a… “domain of The Buried”, and [STATIC RISES] I would really rather… […] God, I hate The Buried. [DEEP BREATHS] … End recording.

(MAG172) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] “Knowing”, “seeing”… i–it’s not the same thing as… understanding. Every time I try to know what The Web’s plan is, if it can even be called a plan, I see… a hundred thousand events and causes and links, an impossibly intricate pattern of consequences and subtle nudges, but I–I can’t…! … I can’t hold them all in my head at the same time. There’s no way to see the “whole”, the, the point of it all. I can see all the details, but it doesn’t… provide… context or… intention. I suppose The Web doesn’t work in knowledge, not in the same way.

(MAG173) MARTIN: That’s the avatar for this place? ARCHIVIST: Callum Brodie, thirteen years old. He guides the children through their fears of The Dark.

(MAG174) ARCHIVIST: I’m not entirely sure what you were expecting, it’s The Vast. The clue is in the name! MARTIN: Yes, all right…!

(MAG176) MARTIN: … Besides, I thought The Hunt was meant to make you go faster. ARCHIVIST: Depends on the type of pursuit. [INHALE] Besides, the chase isn’t… really the point of this particular place.

(MAG177) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] Bad therapists. Let’s just say it’s the fear of bad therapists, filtered through The Spiral. BASIRA: That’s… a lot more nuance than I’ve gotten used to since everything went wrong. ARCHIVIST: Yes, well. The Spiral is nothing if not insidious. […] You just heard what The Spiral does to people, you can’t… trust her.

“constructed the architecture of [the world’s] suffering” kind of implies that they did manage something, even if it doomed the world? Is it specifically about Jonah using the division into 14 in his incantation? We’ve seen that that one had limitations, since The Extinction also got there anyway… But at the same time, true that at this point, we would still force-apply Smirke’s labels to anything anyway.

- Loved Jon sounding awfully pedantic and (fake-)poetic at the same time:

(MAG183) MARTIN: [SIGH] Bit of a mouthful. ARCHIVIST: Would you prefer I described it as a… “cascading recursion of shifting arrogance and hubristic dead-ends”? [STATIC RISES] [THE DOOR CREAKS OPEN] [CONSTANT HIGH-PITCHED FREQUENCY] HELEN: I would. [FOOTSTEPS] [THE DOOR SHUTS] [STATIC FADES] MARTIN: [SIGH] Hello, Helen.

AND HELEN HAVING THE BEST ENTRANCES. It also cleared up something for me (unless I had already realised it and forgot about it since then): the high-pitched sound we hear when she’s around is the mark of Helen and Michael, not of the corridors – if the door is open or characters are inside of the hallways, we’ll hear some of the usual crackling static, but we heard it rise when Helen arrived and fade when the door shut behind her (and same thing with her departure, it was briefly heard when she opened the door).

- Shots fired, MARTIN PLEASE:

(MAG183) MARTIN: [SIGH] Hello, Helen. Might have guessed you’d be into weird architecture. Very much your area of expertise, no? HELEN: Hmm, depends! Would you describe “petulant poet” as your area of expertise? I am weird architecture.

And Helen went equally incisive on that one, but also UUUUUH WAS IT A SPECIFIC REFERENCE TO PETER’S COMMENT ABOUT MARTIN…

(MAG158) MARTIN: I’m… saying no. I refuse! Game over. [KNIFE CLATTERING ON THE GROUND] PETER: Martin, this is not the time for petulance; there are bigger things at stake, here.

This was the only time someone referred to Martin as (acting) petulant… I mean, Helen not missing one second of MAG158 wouldn’t be surprising (she did tell Jon at the end of MAG157 that she would be enjoying the show), but ;; Little chilling when remembering Elias-Peter-Martin in the Panopticon and Martin refusing to kill Jonah there…

- I was right to suspect that Helen might have been unable to know where Jon&Martin were over their stay at Upton House, and that she wouldn’t be pleased about it!

(MAG183) HELEN: Anyway, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you, but you both just vanished. ARCHIVIST: Aaah… Right, I see…! HELEN: I was so looking forward to catching up after that whole Basira and Daisy thing, but then, pfft! You both disappear. I’d be very keen to know how you managed that little trick. MARTIN: Why, it caught us by surprise too, I mean, we, we actually ended– ARCHIVIST: [FIRMLY] We found somewhere to rest. That’s all. MARTIN: … Oh, yeah. Ah, yes, hm. HELEN: Fine. Be like that. I can appreciate the particular pleasure of a kept secret. ARCHIVIST: I’m sure you can.

* Salesa’s zone seems to be protected as long as you don’t physically find it? I wonder how Annabelle managed to find it, still, since Jon only become aware of that blind spot when they arrived nearby; how did she become aware of it in the first place? Did it feel like a hole in the world’s web?

* Awww for Jon keeping the secret and conveying to Martin that they should keep quiet about it ;w;

* AHAHAHHAHA for Jon’s “aaah”, which was absolutely a mischievous grandpa sound. Jon ready to cause trouble, with a smug smile on his face.

- … I love how Helen could observe that the dynamic of the exchange was slipping out of her control (Jon&Martin knew something that she didn’t, didn’t feel threatened by her, and Jon was amused to keep it out of her reach) and immediately tried to go for the throat again:

(MAG183) HELEN: Anyway. Such a shame about Basira and Daisy. I was really rooting for them to make up. MARTIN: [SPLUTTERS] Since when? What happened to– I mean, how did you put it… a, “a quick shot to the back of her head, and then back in time for tea”, or whatever?

Martin: Forgive and forget? NO, RESENT AND REMEMBER AHAHAHAHAH.

Direct reference to the fact that Helen indeed ~offered her door to Basira~ to quickly get to Daisy and execute her:

(MAG177) HELEN: I can offer a shortcut. Take you right to that murder machine you call a partner. MARTIN: Basira… Jon can’t go through Helen’s doors, we, we couldn’t come with you. HELEN: Basira is a strong, independent woman. She doesn’t need you two holding her hand. Anyway, it’ll be dead quick. Two minutes, door-to-door, quick shot to the back of Daisy’s head, and we’ll be home before you know it!

Laughing that Martin added the tea mention (Martin, you single-track minded tea-aficionado), but I’m glad that he remembered it full well to throw it in her face; it wasn’t even a personal attack towards Martin, it was something Helen tried to do to Basira, I’m glad that Martin is still absolutely offended about it ;w;

- I felt like Jon and Helen had two definitions of “what we want”: Helen potentially talking about quick, short-term wants (even if they turn out to be self-destructive), while Jon was more about well-thought decisions and choices?

(MAG183) HELEN: [EXASPERATED SIGH] Oh, give over. I was obviously just prodding her, trying to make a point. She didn’t want to kill her. ARCHIVIST: What we want doesn’t matter much these days. HELEN: Oh, [RASPBERRY NOISE], nonsense. What we want is the only thing that matters these days. And Basira wanted to join Daisy. ARCHIVIST: She made her choice. HELEN: With your assistance. ARCHIVIST: It was still her choice. HELEN: [SIGH] What a waste. ARCHIVIST: No. [INHALE] It wasn’t.

There have been a lot of discussions about “choices” and “wants” throughout the series (with big moments in MAG092, MAG117 and MAG147), so it felt a bit nice that Jon seems to have reached a point where he could draw a line between both? Jon, Martin and Basira didn’t want this world, don’t want the way it operates and what it inflicts on them; it doesn’t mean they can’t weigh options and make specific decisions – Basira, to honour her promise to Daisy and kill the monster she had become; Jon, to not smite for revenge (and Martin, to face his own domain).

I LOVE HOW JON WAS FIRM ABOUT BASIRA’S CHOICE MATTERING ;w; It once again reminds me of Martin’s line to Simon: “I think our experience of the universe has value. Even if it disappears forever.” (MAG151); the little things, the individual existences and choices, their own stories, still having value in the expanse of the universe…

- Martin! It’s a delight to see him so firm, having faith in Basira although he’s been so worried for her:

(MAG179) ARCHIVIST: Martin, this is what she needs. MARTIN: No, no! I–it’s…! BASIRA: It’ll… MARTIN: It’s completely– […] … We’re not doing this. BASIRA: [SOFTLY] Martin. Please. [SILENCE] MARTIN: … [SIGH] You’d better look after yourself. BASIRA: I will.

(MAG180) ARCHIVIST: How are you doing? About… MARTIN: Yeah, yeah. Yeah. I’m… I don’t know. I’m–I’m not sure how to feel; just… pressing on, you know? ARCHIVIST: I do. [SILENCE] MARTIN: Do you think she’ll be okay without us? ARCHIVIST: Oh, she’s made it this far. MARTIN: … Yeah. I just worry.

(MAG183) MARTIN: Basira is… She’s going to be okay.

And then pointing out that he was involved in the discussion too and that he wanted to know what the other two knew already and not be kept out of the loop:

(MAG183) HELEN: Oh. Is she? Do you want me to tell you what she’s been up to while you were “resting”? Where she is right now? ARCHIVIST: You don’t need to. I already know. MARTIN: I don’t. [STATIC RISES] ARCHIVIST: She’s currently moving through, uh… “The Void.” [STATIC FADES] Hungry shadows drifting in the dark. She’s been there a long time now, struggling to find the path. MARTIN: But she will? ARCHIVIST: I think so. HELEN: Yeah, she does always seem to manage, doesn’t she? It’s impressive. Although a little bit… tempting at times.

I’m not absoooolutely sure about Basira’s status: is “the void” a space between domains, or is it a Dark domain that Basira is having trouble finding the exit of, since unlike Jon, she can’t just “know” the paths? I suspect the latter but I’m not 100% certain. If it’s indeed The Dark, that’s a close to home one for her, since she had a few brushes with it over the course of the show – the Section 31 expedition to save Callum Brodie, leading to Rayner’s death and Basira’s decision to quit the police, her research to find out more about the People’s Church of the Divine Host (as shown in season 3) and her overall worry about them, which allowed Elias to convince her that they would attempt another ritual in Ny-Ålesund, leading to her discovering what “Rayner” was and travelling there with Jon, finding Manuela and the Dark Sun mid-season 4…

;ww; for Jon having faith in Basira, too… And the fact that once again, Basira has it a bit rougher than Jon&Martin (Jon had already told Martin that it had been a difficult journey for her, before they reunited). Helen does have a point that Basira seems to manage to find her way out in general: she had successfully escaped The Unknowing on her own, she had survived The Flesh’s attack on the Institute, she had pursued Daisy in the apocalypse… Basira has already gone through Helen’s corridors (offscreen at the end of MAG143, to return to the Institute), I’m YIKES about Helen implying that it would be “tempting” to grab her. (… But at the same time, why hasn’t she done it already, if she is capable of doing it? It might be a bit more complicated than that?)

- … I love Martin, I love that he was RIGHT to point out that Helen had just waltzed in to try and steer chaos:

(MAG183) MARTIN: Look, Helen, what do you even want? Okay, you keep turning up like a bad penny and, honestly, it, it seems like it’s… it’s just to be a dick! HELEN: Gasp! I am trying to be friends, Martin. Forever is a long time. And I occasionally like to have some company that isn’t… screaming. MARTIN: … What do you even think friendship is? HELEN: I dunno, do I? The only personhood I have is from someone I ate.

It feels like Helen has REALLY tried hard to make up for the weeks(?) she couldn’t find Jon and Martin? She went extra-hard on them: first with Basira, then implying to Jon that he had manipulated her into killing Daisy, then pointing out that Basira was not safe at the moment and still at risk of falling prey to other Fears (including herself), then trying to mock Martin about his domain, trying to guilt-trip Jon for not having told him about it yet, and when she finally managed to get Martin shocked and upset… job done, byebye.

Is it that she’s trying to get Jon so riled up he ends her? “Helen” used to like Jon and to turn to him (MAG101: “Helen liked you so… there’s a lot to consider. But I will help you leave.” / MAG115: “Before, talking to you made Helen feel better.”), before she was absolutely Down With Doors And Murders (MAG146: “We do what we need to do when it comes to feeding, don’t we? … Don’t we, Archivist?”), is it a remnant of that? Or is it really just an attempt at confusing Jon and Martin further, feeding from them Spiral-style?

- More about Martin’s domain later, but the reveal was BRUTAL, and yet not coming out of nowhere; we knew he had one, we knew he had almost been trapped in the Lonely house in MAG170 and the question was whether or not it had been (/was still) his domain once Martin got freed from it, but there was also the question of how Martin was able to walk in the apocalypse unharmed (was it due to Jon’s proximity, Martin’s connection to The Eye as an assistant, etc.), and Basira’s own status after Daisy’s death… so, yay! Answers and clarifications, and as usual, nothing feeling like a plot-twist, just things that make sense, and that we already had most of the information about!

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: Martin… MARTIN: Are there people, Jon? ARCHIVIST: What? MARTIN: Are there people in my domain? ARCHIVIST: Not many. [SILENCE] MARTIN: Do you need to do your… your thing? Make a statement about whatever’s going on in there? … I could use a moment to think. ARCHIVIST: Sure thing. Yeah, I–I’ll… [INHALE] Yeah. [EXHALE] [BAG JOSTLING] [DEPARTING FOOTSTEPS]

Sobbing a bit about Martin’s priorities (“Are there people, Jon?”) and Martin asking for a quick me-time. It wasn’t ice-cold, Martin turned it into something useful for both of them (expecting that Jon would have to give his statement anyway), but aouch, he sounded absolutely shattered inside while blank on the surface…

- Yes, yes, yes, reminder that Smirke’s categorisation is arbitrary and just like the Doctor’s theory, sometimes just doesn’t work, because it’s trying to force-apply rules and a classification over something that resists it (and because the classification is not perfect from the start), but hey, that’s most theories and classifications out there anyway, so: Escher reference, the functioning of the Tower reminding me of the Great Twisting, and the reasonings sometimes reminding me of Gabriel’s work (MAG126), plus Helen popping by – it was Spiral stuff, right?

Well! I felt like it looks like Spiral, but the Doctor’s fears by themselves:

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: “But it is not the fall that terrifies him, not the pain of the impacts, but the fact that none of them should be there. That it doesn’t make sense, and it must make sense, there must be a system, there must be, because if there isn’t– [THE BODY LANDS WETLY] He lands with a heavy smack onto rough limestone, and lies still, his body twisted and broken. He knows it will knit itself back together, slowly, painfully, as it always has before. But the thought of starting over, of composing yet another theory, fills him with a deep dread.”

… are more something I would identify as Eye (fear of a truth) and Hunt (fear of having to return to the start, to have to elaborate a new theory from scratch, again and again, of being trapped forever)?

It was really reminiscent of Smirke thinking back over his life, his hubris and the pride of being the one who would have found the answer, to the point where he would reject reality if it didn’t match his taxonomy (refusing to, well… do what you do with a theory: change, or evolve and perfect it when its flaws are pointed out):

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “I believed then, as I still believe now, that these places I saw were the Powers themselves, expressed in their truest form, far more entirely than any ‘secret book’ can claim. And if, as I came to believe, the Dread Powers were themselves places of a sort, then surely with the right space, the right architecture, they could be contained. Channelled. Harnessed. So yes. Hubris. Not simply in that, I suppose, but in believing that those I brought into my confidence shared my lofty goals. […] Would you have me separate The Corruption between insects, dirt and disease? To, to divide the fungal bloom from the maggot? No. No, I… stand by my work. And thus, we must conclude that the only explanation is a new Power, created from what was once others, yet also distinct. And if such change is possible, how then can any “true balance” be achieved through immutable, unchanging stone…?”

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: “If they are feeling very confident, they may lean down and stretch a curious tongue beyond their chipped teeth and rotten gums, desperate to add another sense to their observances – more evidence to support their declaration of what the world must be. […] They must simply study and learn, if they are to escape the labyrinth. They will be the first to escape. The one who sits in the central chamber cannot remember his name. But he knows that people called him “doctor”. He made sure of that; to ignore it would have been the greatest disrespect, and he will not be disrespected. […] He knows, for a fact, that this is the central chamber because he is the one sat here. […] They’ll all remember him forever, the first to escape the Monument. His name will be hallowed with the greats: Doctor, uh… Doctor…”

Same old pride, Leitner knew that well too (MAG080: “But I think, in my heart, I dreamed of my work becoming known. That ‘The Library of Jurgen Leitner’ would stand as a symbol of courage and protection. Hubris.”) and Gerry didn’t have many nice things to say about it (MAG111: “Flamsteed, Smirke, Leitner. Idiots who destroyed themselves chasing a secret that wasn’t worth knowing.”). Loved how the statements came for Smirke’s life and was absolutely ruthless about it – but maayyybe a bit too ruthless, even? Jon didn’t express much sympathy for “fools like Smirke” either, and this is a rare case in season 5 where I find that the statement was a bit lacking in empathy for… people who were technically victims. I mean! Insufferable pedantic academics sure are a type, they’re really not having the worst life out there, but it makes me feel a bit weird, with season 5’s overall tone, that the episode had that vibe of “serves them well, they’re insufferable” about people who were technically still trapped in a domain and suffering from it?

… I still laughed a lot about the Doctor vs. Professor rivalry and how they solved their argument:

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: “The doctor that lies on the floor has recovered, just enough to laugh. ‘You’re still working on mineral theory? How painfully outdated.’ A flash of genuine fear crosses the face of the professor at this dismissal, before he picks up his chunk of granite, and begins to smash the doctor’s head in, yet again.” [SOUNDS OF BRUTAL PEER REVIEW]

Academia unleashed.

(- OKAY, I HAVE TO CONFESS that when the character could only remember his title as “Doctor”, with Smirke having been mentioned earlier, my mind just jumped to Doctor Fanshawe… ;; He had left a strong impression on me, okay.)

- ;w; Over the fact that Martin got his me-time and that it was enough: he was clearly tense, but he came back with direct questions and knew what he wanted cleared up…

(MAG183) MARTIN: Finished? ARCHIVIST: Yes. MARTIN: Good. … I need you to explain something to me. ARCHIVIST: All right.

- I can’t believe that Martin Global Heartthrob Blackwood made The Eye FALL FOR HIM too:

(MAG183) MARTIN: How do I have a domain? That doesn’t make any sense. ARCHIVIST: It’s like I said. [INHALE] Everything here is either watcher, or watched. MARTIN: [SIGH] Subject or object, yes, I know, we’ve been over this. ARCHIVIST: Well, you’re a watcher, Martin. You worked for the Institute, you read statements, The Eye is… fond of you. You’re not getting thrown into your own personal hell, which means…

Jane, Peter, Simon, Elias, Salesa, Annabelle, now Beholding – do you have any limit, Martin.

!! I’m excited over the fact that Martin’s entanglement with Beholding stuff was acknowledged! Comparatively, Melanie had read 2 statements (MAG086, MAG106) and Basira 1 (MAG112). Meanwhile, Martin had read 12; plus, although Tim, Melanie, Martin and Basira had taken (… or tried to take) one live statement each in MAG100, Martin had also taken 3 additional full statements:

MAG084, Adrian Weiss (Corruption) MAG088, Enrique MacMillan (Buried) MAG090, Ross Davenport (Flesh) MAG095, Luca Moretti (Slaughter) MAG098, Doctor Algernon Moss (Dark) MAG100 (live), Lynne Hammond (Desolation) MAG104 (live), Tim Stoker (Stranger) MAG108, Adonis Biros (Lonely) MAG110, Alexia Crawley (Web) MAG134, Adelard Dekker (Extinction) MAG138, Robert Smirke (Eye) MAG142 (live), Jess Tyrell (Buried, Eye) MAG144, Gary Boylan (Extinction) MAG149, Judith O’Neill (Extinction) MAG151 (live), Simon Fairchild (Vast) MAG156, Adelard Dekker (Extinction)

With Simon highlighting that Beholding had compelled him through Martin:

(MAG151) SIMON: Hm! No wonder I’m so sympathetic to The Lonely. You know: this really is a place for self-discovery, isn’t it? [CHUCKLE] “Statement ends”, I suppose! MARTIN: Uh… I’m sorry? SIMON: Oh! Nothing, just my own hubris. I should have known. When I came here, I said to myself: “Simon,” I said, “you’re going to answer this young man’s questions, but you’re not going to give The Watcher a statement. You’re better than that.” But it’s a hard one to resist, isn’t it? You get in the flow of talking about yourself, and it all just… tumbles out. MARTIN: Mm, does seem like it.

Elias might have been eyeing him as back-up Archivist, too (although since then, we’ve learned of his bet with Peter which would have already been running at the time – it might have been that Elias mostly wanted to ensure that Martin wouldn’t die during the Unknowing because he’d be needing him afterwards):

(MAG116) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] What about Martin? MARTIN: What about me? ARCHIVIST: He should stay behind. MARTIN: What?! ELIAS: Really. MARTIN: Why? ARCHIVIST: Too many people might attract attention. MARTIN: No, no, I can help, I’ve been reading the statements! ELIAS: … Quite right, er, probably best he does stay behind. BASIRA: What, so you have a backup if Jon doesn’t make it? ELIAS: I’m sure that won’t be necessary.

Martin did a lot of research, read these statements aloud, took live statements, was hinted as a potential replacement; tape recorders have spawned around him like they do with Jon, even outside of statements, and Martin had been exceptionally kind towards them on multiple occasions; there had been that little moment of Martin somehow knowing that Jon was alive back in season 3 (MAG088: “It’s the not knowing, you know? I mean, Jon’s still alive. Not sure why, but I’m sure of that. But Sasha, I…”), shortly before we had learned about Jon’s own Knowing powers developing; we don’t know why and whether that was Beholding or The Web or something else, but Martin had been able to know how to get Jon out of the Coffin in season 4:

(MAG134) PETER: What does puzzle me, though, and I mean that genuinely, is… why you were piling tape recorders onto the coffin, while Jon was in there. [PAUSE] It’s a question, Martin, it’s– it’s not an accusation. MARTIN: I don’t know. And I just… felt like it might help. He’s always recording, I thought… it–it might help him… find his way out. PETER: Interesting. Were you compelled? MARTIN: [SULLEN] … I don’t know. … M–maybe? I–I, I definitely wanted to do it… PETER: But? MARTIN: I’m… I’m not sure where the idea came from. PETER: You should watch out for that. Could be something dangerous. MARTIN: Sure.

… And Peter’s whole plan relied on the fact that Martin was initially touched by Beholding:

(MAG134) PETER: [BREATHES] I’m still working out some of the kinks. But I believe I have a plan. However, it requires this place, and it requires someone touched by The Beholding. Elias was, perhaps unsurprisingly, unwilling to help.

(MAG158) PETER: It’s quite simple, really…! I want to use the powers of this place to learn about The Extinction: what it’s doing, where it’s manifesting. Then we can stop it. MARTIN: And you need me for this? PETER: Correct! Without a connection to The Eye, any attempt to use it would likely end… very messily indeed! But thankfully, it just so happens that you hold such a connection. MARTIN: So that’s it… Both “lonely” and “watching”. PETER: You must admit you’re the perfect candidate. MARTIN: I suppose I am.

Beholding baby!! Now coming in an additional Lonely flavour.

- Mmmmmmmm… The way Jon put it, it seems that Beholding is consciously rewarding its servant and:

* It could be Jon trying to make sense of something else, that he doesn’t understand? Gertrude didn’t think that the Fears were able to “think” at all (MAG145: “Sometimes, I think They understand us as… little as we understand Them. We don’t think like They do.” “I’m not actually convinced they “think” at all.”); reward&affection could be primitive enough feelings for a blob of terrors to work out (Martin fed Beholding as an assistant by reading statements => Beholding grants him things in the hope of getting fed even more?), but I don’t know, I can’t help but wonder if this is just Jon humanising the Fears a bit too much? It’s curious that Beholding got “fond” of Martin precisely when Jon himself fell in love with him – could Jon’s feelings have influenced Martin’s position in the apocalypse, could Jon be having a bit more power over the landscape than he realises?

* … If Beholding is rewarding its servants, that doesn’t bode well for Elias. WELL, no, I mean: it might mean that Elias is having a Great Time as a Beholding acolyte, which means it doesn’t bode well for my desire to see Elias get absolutely wrecked and wrong about being the “king of a ruined world”. I want him to have miscalculated, damnit! x’D

- I’m having so many feelings over Martin himself being unsure of what he wants, whether it’s better to know or to remain ignorant…

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: It’s like I said. [INHALE] Everything here is either watcher, or watched. MARTIN: [SIGH] Subject or object, yes, I know, we’ve been over this. ARCHIVIST: Well, you’re a watcher, Martin. You worked for the Institute, you read statements, The Eye is… fond of you. You’re not getting thrown into your own personal hell, which means… MARTIN: [QUIETLY] That one of them belongs to me. But that’s… Ho–how can I be a “Watcher”? I, I didn’t even know it existed! ARCHIVIST: But you’ve suspected for a while now, haven’t you? MARTIN: Maybe? But that’s not “watching”! ARCHIVIST: Do you want me to tell you about it? MARTIN: No. … Yes. N–no, no, I don’t know, I don’t know. [SIGH]

Is it a remnant of his discussions with Tim in season 3? He’s basically gone the reverse of Tim about it:

(MAG098) MARTIN: Y’know, I think he thinks that the distance keeps us safe, you know? Like, like, if he just makes sure that we’re not involved, we’re somehow fine. TIM: He’s an idiot. Look, we didn’t know what that door was, and it still trapped us. Ignorance isn’t going to save anyone. MARTIN: No, I mean, you’re right, I guess.

Martin has seen enough to know now that ignorance doesn’t protect anyone, but also that knowledge can be used as a weapon – that the horrors are just made to hurt. I feel like, in his situation, noping out of Jon’s statements was one of his only ways to assert his boundaries (which had been denied from him — and from others — for a long time)? But here, the situation is different; it’s about Martin’s own involvement, he knew the knowledge would hurt anyway… but it’s also his load to bear? To at least face what is happening, since he’s benefitting from it, since he’s been made complicit (without ever wanting to)? It still goes perfectly with the exploration of exploitative and oppressive systems: Martin, unknowingly and unwillingly inflicting hurt, still being in a better situation than others… while not being directly responsible for it, not wanting to benefit from it. It really makes me want to see Jon&Martin find a way to reverse or improve things, to get people out of the domains or giving them the keys to escape them, and I don’t know if I can even hope something about this ;; (On the Jon&Martin front, things are so good; but it still feels so unfair for… everyone else.)

- Martin having a domain and being classified as a “watcher” finally explains why he hadn’t been impacted by the apocalypse since the Change! He had been able to get out of the domains’ grasp even when he wasn’t around Jon (he had fallen behind at the end of MAG163, he wandered around in the Web’s theatre, he left Jon alone for most of the statements), and there was still the question of… how he was still surviving without eating, and at the same time wasn’t (at least as far as we knew) trapped in a domain:

(MAG161) MARTIN: [MIRTHLESS HUFF] What about food? ARCHIVIST: What about it? When’s the last time you thought to eat, o–or even felt hungry? MARTIN: [FAINT] What…? Wha… Uh… I don’t know. ARCHIVIST: No. Whatever is sustaining us now doesn’t need us to eat. MARTIN: That… that can’t be possible– ARCHIVIST: It’s a new world, Martin, the natural laws are whatever they want them to be. And I suspect they don’t much care to keep humanity fed and watered.

I was wondering if it was Jon’s influence, or Martin being “trapped” in Jon’s domain, and Jon had also alluded to the possibility that they were themselves trapped in their quest towards the Panopticon:

(MAG169) ARCHIVIST: “Free” doesn’t really exist in this place. MARTIN: Apart from us. ARCHIVIST: I suppose. I–in a sense, though… [CHUCKLING] how much of that is because we are trapped in our own quest to– MARTIN: Okay, let’s, let’s not dive into another… ontological debate right now, not here. ARCHIVIST: Fair enough.

And Jon had even specifically told Martin that he had a domain, shortly before Martin got almost imprisoned in the Lonely house:

(MAG167) ARCHIVIST: We all have a domain here, Martin. The place that feeds us. MARTIN: Oh. [PAUSE] Where’s yours? ARCHIVIST: [MIRTHLESS CHUCKLE] I mean, we’re… traveling towards it. MARTIN: Oh! Right, obviously. [CHUCKLING] Duh. Hum… What about me? ARCHIVIST: … Would you… like me to… ? MARTIN: No, no. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. ARCHIVIST: … Okay!

(MAG170) ARCHIVIST: I, I didn’t want to… look too ha–, I–I–I promised I wouldn’t… know you, and, and with the fog in all–all the rooms, I’ll, I just, I lost y–, I… I–I’m sorry. MARTIN: It’s okay. ARCHIVIST: … No, I… I tried to use the… to know where you were, but… it was… You–you were faint. It was so strange, i–it took me so long just to find you…! [RUSTLING OF CLOTHES] MARTIN: Jon, it’s… okay. I promise it’s okay. This place tried, it really did, and honestly I… I wanted to believe it. But I didn’t. ARCHIVIST: This… “place”, i–it… [STATIC] My god…! […] I, I just… I wanted to make sure that you knew what this place was. MARTIN: It’s The Lonely, Jon. It’s me. ARCHIVIST: [INHALE] Not anymore. MARTIN: Hm! No. [LONG INHALE, EXHALE] No…! Not anymore.

And alright, that finally answers it: the Lonely house wasn’t his domain, wasn’t meant to be (but he was susceptible to it, got almost trapped in it as a “watched” although he eventually managed to reject and break free from it). His own domain was elsewhere, and Martin himself was amongst the “watchers” all along; Martin is living a bit like Helen in this apocalypse, having a fixed domain, but able to navigate elsewhere.

Aouch for Martin, since he had been encouraging Jon to smite domains’ rulers as soon as he discovered that Jon could do it; it was already murky territory for Jon himself (if the “avatars” and “monsters” just deserve to die, what about Jon?), it was awful with Callum (Martin himself drew the line at smiting a kid)… but now, we know it was directly including him, too, and that he had been fed through people’s pain all along. No wonder Helen had encouraged the smiting so hard, if she already knew they were kind of neighbours…

… Double-aouch for Jon, because he had offered twice the option for Martin to stay elsewhere, permanently:

(MAG170) ARCHIVIST: M–Martin, if you… did; i–if you wanted to forget… a–all of it, stay here and just… escape. I… I would understand. MARTIN: … N–no…! It’s comforting here, leaving all those… painful memories behind, but… It’s not a good comfort, it’s… I–it’s the kind that makes you fade, makes you… dim and… distant.

(MAG181) ARCHIVIST: I’m sorry, I… It would have been nice to stay. MARTIN: [WISTFULLY] Yeah… I’d almost forgotten what it was like, you know? A bit of peace, eh! ARCHIVIST: I mean, you could have… MARTIN: No, don’t say it, Jon. You know I never would. I–I can’t just “forget” about all the people out here! Besides, I’d rather be trapped in a post-apocalyptic wasteland with you than spend one more moment in paradise with her.

And Jon probably didn’t know what Martin’s domain was exactly, back then, since we heard the knowing static kick in when he described the domain in this episode? But he probably knew, already, that Martin having a domain didn’t mean that he belonged to it as a victim, but as a ruler, and that it would hurt Martin so much. (“No one gets what they deserve. Not in this place. They just get whatever hurts them the most! … Even me.”, indeed ;;)

- I AM HAVING SO MANY FEELINGS OVER THE DESCRIPTION OF MARTIN’S DOMAIN…

(MAG183) [STATIC RISES] ARCHIVIST: It’s a small domain. A swirling mix of The Eye and The Lonely. Inhabited by a few lost souls whose fear is not of their isolation or their agonies, but that no-one… will ever know of them. That they shall suffer in silence, and be mourned by nobody. That’s why you can’t really see it. It’s why even if we do travel through it, you won’t be able to see… any of the people trapped there.

… It reminds me so much of what Martin probably experienced in his own flat, when Prentiss besieged him for two weeks and Martin was unable to contact anyone, and nobody came to check on him? Did Martin’s domain grow from his own old fears…?

It also reminds me a bit of Naomi’s brush with The Lonely:

(MAG013) NAOMI: The fog seemed to follow me as went and seemed to swirl around with a strange, deliberate motion. You’ll probably think me an idiot, but it felt almost malicious. I don’t know what it wanted, but somehow I was sure it wanted something. There was no presence to it, though, it wasn’t as though another person was there, it was… It made me feel utterly forsaken.

Overall, the description is extremely… typical from what we’ve seen of The Lonely: there was Naomi’s misadventure, Ethan disappeared and nobody even claimed his backpack (MAG048), Yetunde Uthman had “disappeared a year ago. And nobody noticed” (MAG150)…

(But from that description alone, it doesn’t sound very Beholding, despite what Jon said? I’m curious about the Eye aspect of it…)

- Can’t believe that Martin canonically turns out to be the Lonely Eyes love(hate)child, gdi. It really was a custody battle in MAG158.

- Extra-sad that Jon warned Martin that there was meaning in the fact that Martin didn’t know anything about his domain, and wouldn’t even be able to see people in there… It’s just so cruel, both for them, and for Martin, to learn that he’s been unknowingly contributing to their misery (because they fed him and he didn’t even know about them)?

Pretty sure that Martin will stay with Jon to hear that statement, at the very least ;; (Or could he ask for something more? We’ve seen Jon extracting Breekon’s statement in MAG128, I wonder if he could put something into someone’s head like Elias had done, allowing Martin to give that statement himself…)

- I’m wondering about Jon’s own domain, too, now! He said they were heading towards it, so it’s either the Panopticon, the Institute or the Archives, or a mix of those… or something close to it, on their way to it. If Martin’s domain is a mix of Lonely&Eye, is Jon’s pure Eye? A mix of the 14/15? A Web&Eye mix, given Jon’s own personal fears?

I know that Jonny (lovingly) called out the obsessive classification in this episode through Jon, who went off on a rant about the “neat little boxes”, but he’s still using the Smirke classification this season:

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: It’s a small domain. A swirling mix of The Eye and The Lonely.

(AND IN THIS VERY EPISODE… Jon…)

- On the one hand: feeling directly called out by Jon’s rant about how the divisions between avatars/monsters/humans/victims wasn’t and isn’t working, that reality escapes that division because it’s much more complicated than this:

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: [HEATED] Avatar isn’t a thing, Martin, it’s not–! It’s just a word. A word used by… fools like Smirke to try and sort everything into neat little boxes, to reduce the messy spray of human fear into a checklist: Human, avatar, monster, victim. Only now, now, there’s a binary. There’s finally a clear dividing line and… [SIGH] Well. I’m sorry you’re not happy with which side you’ve ended up on.

(It felt especially relevant with Callum Brodie: could we really tell that he was an “avatar” when he was still a freshly wounded kid, even if a tormentor himself?)

On the other hand, well, that was still a useful distinction to have to identify servants, and mostly, I’m not extremely convinced by Jon arguing that there is now a Clear BinaryTM in the new world, between the “watchers” and the “watched”, since:

1°) Helen herself explained the dichotomy to Martin (MAG166: “And so, there are now exactly two roles available in this new world of ours: the watcher, and the watched. Subject, and object. Those who are feared, and those who are afraid.”). Given that she mostly tries to confuse them… that’s a red flag.

2°) Despite Jon defending that binary, we’ve run into plenty of examples of things… not fitting into that new classification. He himself acknowledged that Basira’s status wasn’t established yet; we’ve seen Salesa, protected by his camera from the chaos; Jon has been unable to know about Georgie and Melanie, only hypothesising that they might in what-used-to-be-London; Martin, a watcher, could still have fallen prey to another domain… That’s already a lot of special cases around that “clear dividing line”…

3°) Somethingsomethingsomething about how it’s in Beholding’s best interest that Jon believes in a clear, unchangeable, dividing line which serves Beholding’s own interests. If things feel fixed and unchangeable, then there is no point trying to fight against it or find a loophole, right?

Given that a Watcher can get trapped in another domain… does that mean that it could be the case for Jon, too? We got a threat of it in MAG172, when Jon began to give the statement of the following act – if Martin hadn’t interrupted him, would Jon have ever been able to stop?

- Confirmation that Daisy had “trapped” Basira in her Hunt! I was suspecting it since Jon’s first wording:

(MAG164) MARTIN: Is Basira alive? ARCHIVIST: [INHALE] MARTIN: Is she… in… o–one of these places? [STATIC RISES] ARCHIVIST: She’s alive. Out there, not… trapped in a–a hellscape, but… moving. [STATIC DECREASES] Hunting. She’s… she’s looking for Daisy. She’s a few steps behind.

(MAG183) MARTIN: … What about Daisy? Or Basira? ARCHIVIST: Daisy carved through the domains of others. Basira… well… In a very real way she was a sufferer in Daisy’s domain. Maybe the only one. Hunting, following, hurting. Now Daisy’s dead, she’s… free. Sort of. She’s inherited something of Daisy’s ability to move through the other domains. For now, she’ll… feed off what she sees in them. As to whether the Eye ultimately gives her a domain of her own… I don’t know yet.

* And now, Basira seems to have a peculiar status… Is it because she killed Daisy? Is it because she killed the ruler of her domain? Jon explained that a ruler’s death didn’t change much for the domain itself, but maybe it operates differently if a victim kills a ruler (… they become the new ruler?)

* Another reminder that Jon cannot see the future.

* Big Eyeball didn’t immediately give Basira a domain, but Martin got one. I see that favouritism, uh. (Joke, it does make sense given how Martin recorded a lot of statements and had worked at the Institute for years and years.)

- I love how Jon managed to explain why he hadn’t told Martin everything, and how Martin… indeed agreed that Jon had been mostly trying to respect his wishes about not knowing ;; It’s true that Martin had been adamant about not hearing much of the horror:

(MAG163) MARTIN: J–Jon, enough! Enough! [STATIC FADES] … Please don’t tell me these things. ARCHIVIST: I… I’m sorry, I– There’s just so much! There’s so much, Martin, and I know all of it, I can see all of it, and I– It’s filling me up, I need to let it out! MARTIN: I’m sorry, but tough. Okay? Tha–that’s not what I’m here for. [VOICE IN THE DISTANCE: “No… No!”] MARTIN: I can’t be that for you, I–I just can’t.

(MAG167) MARTIN: Oh! Right, obviously. [CHUCKLING] Duh. Hum… What about me? ARCHIVIST: … Would you… like me to… ? MARTIN: No, no. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. ARCHIVIST: … Okay!

(MAG183) MARTIN: You didn’t tell her any of that. ARCHIVIST: I didn’t think the metaphysics of her place in the fear ecosystem was something she’d be particularly interested in at that moment. MARTIN: Fair. But you seem very reluctant to tell anyone any of this stuff. ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] I did try, right at the start, but y–you didn’t seem to want to talk about it, so I didn’t push it. It’s hard, I have so much knowledge but… how do I decide what people want me to share, and what they never want to know?. MARTIN: I guess that makes sense.

But Martin seems to acknowledge that indeed, Jon had been trying his best about it…

(And now, I wonder if there is still other stuff that Jon hadn’t told Martin, in the same vein…)

- First choice for Martin:

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] I was going to bring it up at the crossroads. Inside. I only just realised we would be going this way. […] MARTIN: I guess that makes sense. … So what did you mean about the crossroads? When you were talking to Helen. ARCHIVIST: It’s a maze in there, something between a, a Rubik’s Cube and a Magic Eye picture. I can find us the way through easily enough but… well. For us, there are two ways out. Two paths to London. MARTIN: What are the choices? ARCHIVIST: One would be a long, winding route, we’d see a lot of horrors, but remain… personally untouched. MARTIN: And the other is my domain. ARCHIVIST: Eventually. It’s a shorter path, with faces we know along the way. Including Helen. MARTIN: I thought Helen was her domain, wi–with all the doors and that? ARCHIVIST: She is, but she has a… position within this pseudo-landscape, like any other. MARTIN: O–okay. [INHALE] So, so, I mean, I suppose we’ve got to do that one, right? ARCHIVIST: We don’t have to, w–we–we could just– MARTIN: What, what? We could, we could dodge around it? Take the path of denial? I guess, but… what is it you keep harping on about? “The journey will be the journey”? [SIGH] I mean… It’s pretty obvious that this one is my journey.

! Glad that Martin didn’t hesitate and immediately understood what it was about – that it mattered to do it that way, that Martin had to face it, that this is how this world works. No hesitation about it. He got a demonstration with Basira, but still, he was quick to accept it.

I’m expecting a few episodes before Martin’s domain, so… with the overall rhythm of the season, they might reach the Institute by MAG189? And Hill Top Road during Act III?

- Since Jon mentioned that the path Martin ended up choosing had:

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: Eventually. It’s a shorter path, with faces we know along the way. Including Helen.

I wonder about those “faces we know”, since we’re running super-low on ~avatars~. Different options:

* Institute staff. Rosiiiie?

* Melanie&Georgie. A bit unlikely, given that Jon had trouble knowing what was the deal with them, I feel?

* Since Helen will be there, people who gave live statements to Jon and were trapped in his nightmare zoo. I’m mostly thinking about this one, especially since Jon’s “No one gets what they deserve. Not in this place. They just get whatever hurts them the most! … Even me.”… (And if it’s about an internal and metaphorical journey, I feel like having to face people that Jon hurt, first unaware (he didn’t know about the nightmare zoo when he signed to become the Head Archivist), then partially unwilling but still doing it (he felt guilty about it but still hid it, still chose self-preservation instead of warning the others about it), would have its place…)

- In the same fashion, who is trapped in Martin’s domain? Unrelated people? Live statement-givers? (;; I’m thinking of Jess, who had the misfortune of being compelled by Jon and of giving a statement to Martin…)

… Given that it’s confirmed to be a “journey” for Martin too, I can’t help but squint at Jon’s wording, because. “Faces we know”. The only thing we know of Martin’s father is the fact that he looks like Martin… (MAG118: “The thing is, though, Martin: if you ever do want to know exactly what your father looked like… all you have to do is look in a mirror~ The resemblance is quite uncanny. The face of the man she hates, who destroyed her life, watching over her, feeding her, cleaning her, looking down on her with such pity–”)

- I’ll be having Annabelle’s words stuck in my head (ha) for a long time but:

(MAG181) ANNABELLE: Don’t worry, Martin. We’ll meet again. Hopefully when you’re feeling a little bit more… open-minded…! MARTIN: I wouldn’t count on it. ANNABELLE: I would. MARTIN: [SIGH]

… Was it a reference to Martin learning about his own domain and about how the world operates, his place in it? I think that Martin might be even more resolved to turn the world back at whatever cost, now that he knows that he is himself sustained by fear…

(LISTEN, THIS IS ABSOLUTELY HOW WEB!MARTIN CAN STILL WI–)

- !! Footage of Martin saying “I love you” for the first time ;w; I love how it was the thing he was certain about, both a slight decompressing joke and a true statement, a reminder that he has faith in Jon, that he has something to cling to?

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: If you’re sure. MARTIN: … I’m sure I love you. [FOOTSTEPS] ARCHIVIST: I love you too. [FABRIC RUSTLES] Let’s go.

(He had mentioned that he was “in love” in MAG170, I’m happy to hear him telling Jon, too!) And the fabric RUSTLED, SO LONG AND SO HARD, AND AT LEAST TWICE!! I love how the tension from right before and after the statement had faded by the end of the episode ;w; Rollercoaster of little emotions…

MAG184’s makes me think of something Leitner had said (more lore about the Fearpocalypse?), and of Vast and Corruption… with very different vibes. If Corruption, and keeping in mind that Jon has announced that they will be encountering “faces [they] know along the way”, it cooould contain Jordan Kennedy, the exterminator from Pest Control…? Especially given that both Jon and Martin had met him (Jon took his live statement, and Martin pleaded offscreen for him to get them the jar of Prentiss’s ashes to comfort Jon).

(Yessss, I am absolutely aware of the irony of still using Smirke’s categorisation after another episode in which we were told again that it is bollocks, but if Jon himself still occasionally labels the domain as one of the 15, so can I ♥)

#long post/#tma liveblog #mag183 #tma season 5 #the magnus archives #tma spoilers/

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