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electrasev5nwrites · 1 year ago

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Ninja Daily: AIC 16

"Do I have to do this now?" Aiko asked the world at large.

She actually wasn't sure what part of that she was stressing. Did she want someone else to do this now? Did she want to do something else? Did she just want to crawl back into bed and deal with the problem later?

Mei, sweet, kind Mei, answered the question. "Yes."

Aiko gave her a dirty look. Nobody asked you shit, Mei. God.

Mei didn't seem to notice. She finished personally securing Yamato's hands to the interrogation table and then patted the metal-and-gauze combination that prevented his hands from making any sort of handseals. "You really do have to do this now," she specified.

Aiko thought about the way that Yamato could channel chakra merely by clapping and sighed. She gestured. "Might wanna- yes, like that," she approved, as Mei apparently read her damn mind and turned his palms to face away from each other. She tightened the binds again.

Mei gave Aiko a wry look when Yamato's fingers twitched, not quite capable of hiding his desire to fight that movement.

Haha, busted.

Her mind caught on belatedly to what exactly she was approving of. She felt very tired and a bit resentful that she had to be here.

This would have been a great day to not get out of bed. It was only two in the morning and she was calling it now- today was a bust. There was nothing good about today.

"Here you are." Mei adjusted the lighting brighter and poured a glass of water. Just one. Were they withholding that from Yamato, then? He was going to have a dry mouth. That'd be mildly uncomfortable. That would sure show him to infiltrate Kirigakure.

"Thanks," Aiko said dully. She took the seat on the other side of the table. "I'm afraid I don't have that much time. It would be beyond awkward if someone realized I'm not where they think I am." She ran a hand over her hair, frowned, and then pulled it out of the now-messy braid she'd slept in. It took a minute to put it up in a severe ponytail. That wasn't a good look for her, to be honest, but there wasn't a lot she could do without a mirror and a shower.

Mei paused at the door. "It is late. Would you like a coffee or tea?"

Aiko nodded. Yes, did she ever want something with caffeine in it. She didn't open her mouth, because she might tell Mei that she loved her. Mei was so competent.

When the door shut, she took a long minute to just look at her former comrade. Well. Future comrade, sort of, in that she hadn't worked with him when she was 13. Past-future comrade. Future past comrade?

'This isn't productive.'

She honestly did not know what she was going to say. The possibilities were just too goddamn exhausting. She did not want him running back to make public information about the current state of Kirigakure's affairs. On the other hand, it would be difficult to become Good Friends with Konoha if their relationship started of with "here, this box has what's left of that spy you sent me. You're welcome!"

That was even before she took into consideration that she actually liked Yamato. Mostly. Some of the time.

She didn't want to kill him, anyway. He was a genuinely good person. Almost a suspiciously good person, really, considering his primary role model. How did that even happen? Kakashi was a gigantic asshole- it was one of her favorite things about him.

Whatever. That was beside the point. Aiko rubbed at her head.

Of course, the fact that Konoha had sent Yamato as a spy complicated things and prevented them from having a moral highground. Even if she killed Yamato, it probably wouldn't break an alliance if she managed to get it before Konoha knew he hadn't gotten out in time. Konoha couldn't demand him back without admitting that they'd sent him to spy on an ally nation, however tenuous that relationship might have been at the time. And he was only one soldier. That was the way it went- if you failed, you were on your own. Kirigakure would probably just get out of any repercussions by blinking and saying, "Yamato? Who?"

Metaphorically, of course. Because Konoha wasn't going to ask, 'Hey remember that guy who we sent into your city to gather information? His name was Yamato and we want him back, pretty please.'

Yamato knew this as well as she did. He must be banking on a miraculous escape or resigned to torture and death. The traditional answer would be to try to make him decide that betraying Konoha was worth it in exchange for retaining his life and limbs, but she wasn't interested in that. It probably wouldn't work, and it'd be a huge bummer besides.

Resentfully, Aiko eyed the top of his fluffy head as he continued to fake unconsciousness. He'd been awake since Mei had secured his ankles to the legs of his chair. He'd probably decided his best chance to escape was after she and Mei left. Which, no. She forbid it.

She picked up the glass of cold water and took a sip. Aiko made a face. Tap water from someone else's well never tasted quite right, unless you were really thirsty. She looked around to see if Mei was watching- she wasn't, Mei was still outside the room.

Aiko leaned over and upended the water on Yamato's head. He came up sputtering, looking at her with shocked indignation.

"You are a shit spy," Aiko accused immediately, because there didn't seem to be any point to dicking around. She set the glass out of his reach and then crossed her arms as she settled back in her chair. "If you're going to infiltrate a foreign country, for god's sake, don't get caught."

He snorted. "That's hypocritical." Yamato shook his head, sending water flying. His nose twitched. "Konoha knew when you entered the borders. I made it all the way to your center of administration."

Aiko made an indignant sound. "That's hardly the same thing!" She leaned forward. "I wasn't sneaking in. The next time I need to sneak into Konoha, I'll tell you so you have an accurate point of comparison. Because honestly, your security is terrible and you'd never know I was there." She tilted her head back and mockingly mimicked an ANBU callsign giving the all-clear.

His expression didn't change. Well, perhaps he looked even more mutinous. "I don't know why I'm arguing with you." He looked away. "Whose to say you're even who you look like?"

"That depends on who I look like," Aiko countered nonsensically.

"You should be in Konoha," Yamato accused. He was inconspicuously working his arms, trying to loosen his bonds.

She considered that for a moment, and nodded. "True," she agreed. Truer than he realized.

"But you're not," he stressed, as though he was proving some point.

Aiko looked around the room, and then at herself. "I'm not?" she asked mildly. "Isn't that the Hokage monument?" She widened her eyes at some water damage in the wallpaper. "It's everything I dreamed of and more."

His face twitched. "You're not in Konoha," Yamato repeated slowly.

"Okay," Aiko agreed. "You're the expert here. I'm not in Konoha."

"But you should be," Yamato said triumphantly. "You checked in 6 days ago."

"Oh." Aiko looked up, pretending to consider that. "I must be in Konoha, then."

He made a strangled sound.

She cracked a smile, warming up to the conversation. "This is fun," Aiko decided. She tapped a finger against her face. "I'm glad I got out of bed for this, whether that bed might have been in Kirigakure or in Konohagakure."

Yamato's eyes narrowed. "Where, more specifically, might that bed in Kirigakure be?"

Aiko faulted. She opened her mouth. She closed it. She looked at him suspiciously. "Is that a line? I'm flattered, but honestly now's not a good-"

"No!" he burst out, pinkening. "Why are you interrogating me? Not three months ago, you claimed you had no allegiance to any state. Who are you really?" Yamato looked like he wasn't entirely certain he was the one tied up for interrogation. He leaned forward aggressively until metal clanked. "You're a hunter-nin. You were in Wave for Zabuza, and you're in Konoha for another target."

She paused.

'Who on earth would I want from Konoha?' Aiko wondered.

He looked victorious.

'No one. There's no one who would be that important to Kiri there. Bit of a self-centered conclusion, Konoha.'

Her face contorted in an effort not to laugh. "You got me," Aiko said solemnly. "I'm a hunter-nin. Here, in Konoha. It's getting difficult to keep up with where we are, though. Could you maybe help me draw a map? I have a crayon here somewhere."

He gave her a disgusted look. "No, that's not it then. Who are you?"

Aiko gave him a guileless smile and adjusted her posture to look as relaxed as possible. "I'm a nobody, really."

Yamato snorted. Then his gaze darted to the side, hearing the footsteps that Aiko had already detected. Mei had been standing there for a few seconds.

The door slide open. Mei took three sharp steps in and set down a full coffee set for one on the table. "Mizukage-sama," she said politely. Then she backed away, as if she hadn't just ruined Aiko's fun.

'She did that on purpose.'

Aiko was left speechless, watching the door as Mei slid it open again. She only mustered, "You're demoted!" at the last second.

"Of course, Mizukage-sama," Mei agreed blandly. She bowed and shut the door. She walked away with casual heel-clicks on the tile, unlike her stealthy approach earlier.

Aiko took a deep breath. She rubbed at her temples. She said to no one, "That woman is out to get me." She looked to Yamato. "You ruin a person's career just once, and they never let it go." Then she poured herself a coffee and filled the cup with 4 cubes of sugar and two of the little cups of syrup sweetener. Then she added some milk.

Yamato made a disgusted noise.

She frowned at him, holding the cup covetously against her chest. "What," Aiko said. It wasn't a question, because she didn't want his opinion.

He rolled his eyes. "Are you going to throw that at me, too? If I get an opinion on this, my opinion is no."

"Because it's hot?" Aiko guessed. She wouldn't want hot liquid thrown at her.

"Because I'll never get all that sugar out of my hair," he countered. "You eat like an unsupervised child." His expression was insolently pleased. Of course it was. She'd walked into that.

Her fingers tightened on the cup. She wanted to consider it, but she couldn't. That would be painful. No one should have hot liquid thrown at them. After a long moment, she rolled her eyes. "Throwing this at you would be a waste of sugar." Defiantly, she took a long drink.

She didn't like the look that Yamato was giving her when she looked back at him. He looked like he hadn't bought that.

'He was provoking me on purpose to see what I would do. He's making judgments about my personality. He's probably assumed I'm not likely to actually hurt him personally. Which does rhetorically defang me, a bit.'

Typical. Well, he was a consummate professional. He hadn't been distracted from his desire to gain information, either, even when she tried to put him off-balance. Aiko pursed her mouth and considered the problem. She wasn't willing to torture him, she wasn't willing to let him go to ruin her plans, and she didn't want to poison her future relations with Konoha.

She couldn't afford to keep talking with him, really. She was baffling him with bullshit, but she didn't have unlimited time. Even if she did- the more time they spent together, the better he'd get at extracting information from her. She had to pass him off to someone else, and she had to find a way to keep him stuck in Kirigakure that wouldn't piss Konoha off too much.

There really weren't a lot of reasons it might be plausible for a shinobi to spend time long-term in another nation's capital. Just the one, really, and it hadn't applied to Konoha and Kiri in a long time.

Well. Where there was one rhetorical option, that had to be her solution, no matter how stupid it was. And boy, was it ever stupid.

"I'm glad we had this talk," Aiko said, making her decision. She gave him a painfully false smile, thinking of Sai. It must have worked- Yamato recoiled instinctively. "I'm terribly sorry about the misunderstanding, but I'm sure you know how it is. People sneaking around get brought to interrogation. Bad habit, we'll work on it."

He gave her an odd look.

"Actually, I quite look forward to working with you," Aiko said instead of anything that made sense, tilting her head. "You'll be a nice addition to Kirigakure. I can only assume that Konohagakure sent you as a diplomatic ambassador for a long-term assignment, we haven't replaced the old one. For some reason. Probably paperwork."

(The permanent ambassador at residence in Kirigakure had been vacant since Kirigakure had the ambassador assassinated 9 years ago, actually.)

She kicked back in her chair. "Shame that you forgot the paperwork and that it's traditional to make an appointment before you come to visit administration to begin your work. You'll have the finest suite available while we get around to verifying your credentials. You'll understand that you must remain under supervision until the mistake with your paperwork has been cleared up. I'm so embarrassed. I'll get that resolved as soon as possible. A month. Two. Three, tops."

Yamato was looking at her like she was an alien. That was strangely comforting. Good: he was the reason she was up at such a ridiculous hour. If she couldn't be happy, he shouldn't be either.

Aiko stood and smiled, nodding down at him over her coffee cup. "Sorry about the mix-up, I'm sure you'll have a great time. Tomorrow you'll start your full tour. I have just the guide in mind- Mei, you remember Mei, I'm sure." Her smile turned vindictive. "She'll be happy to show you the cultural highlights of our fine city."

"Your city is a mess," Yamato said blankly. "Half of it's under construction."

She gave him an admonishing look. "That's a rude thing to say, isn't it?" She clicked her tongue. "Don't hurt Mei's feelings, I'm sure she'll be so happy when I tell her I'm assigning her to you. Which I can do," Aiko said dryly, "Because I am the Mizukage, as she so helpfully pointed out."

'Repeating it like that makes it sound like I'm lying,' she noted. 'Good. That's fine. It'll keep him guessing. He should know as little as possible, until I know he can't do any harm by sharing information.'

He made a noise like a teakettle. She reached over to pat at his hand, thought better of it, and the withdrew her hand. She nodded officiously. "Welcome to Kirigakure, Yamato." When he looked up sharply, she gave him a pointed little smile. "Or is it Tenzou?"

Confusion was now fighting with fear on his expression. That wasn't fun to see, exactly, but it'd sure give him plenty to think about. More specifically, it would give him plenty to think about that would occupy him with dead-ends instead of something more productive.

She swept out without waiting for a reply.

As soon as she stepped out, two masked nin bowed and went into the room she'd exited. Mei was waiting in the next room with a mutinous expression.

"It's not me being petty," Aiko explained without waiting for the accusation. Mei's eyebrows ticked up. "I don't trust anyone else to be able to contain him long-term. Yamato is well-suited to fighting Utakata to assign him instead of you. We can't afford to let Yamato escape before we're officially allied with Konoha, but we don't need resentment poisoning our relations. We have to treat him fairly well."

There was a pause. Then Mei nodded. Her expression was inscrutable.

Aiko eyed the older woman and figured that was the best she'd get. "He could be very useful," she added. "If you present things well, he may be amenable to helping with reconstruction. He's a very sympathetic personality, and talented with mokuton. You won't be able to trick him into adding to Kirigakure's military capacity or anything like that, but public works- he might even enjoy the occupation. Establish some rapport, and then walk him past the camps full of orphans and homeless we've got," Aiko said bitterly. "He might jump to offer."

She didn't like showing off that weakness, or asking for pity. But pride came second to what could be beneficial. She wouldn't be a leader who cut off her nose to spite her face.

Wha-

Someone was signaling via hiriashin again. Now that she was fully conscious, it was easier to identify the source- definitely Konoha.

'I told them not to bother me unless they needed to. So. It's probably Orochimaru or Gaara.'

"Fuck," Aiko groaned. "I really don't think I deserved this kind of day. I'm a good person, aren't I?'

Then she realized Mei was the only other person in the room. She did not want Mei to answer that question.

"I have to go."

'I can't be seen. The team would get disqualified and this would have all been for nothing.'

Mei's mouth opened in question, but Aiko was already flying through the handsigns for Jiraiya's chameleon jutsu.

"The genin need me," Aiko half-explained. She pulled the disguise on and moved to the problematic seal within an instant.

The stench of blood. Heavy breathing. One, two,- six people, including her team. Also including Gaara. That wasn't ominous or anything.

…And that was all that she could tell, because, oh yeah, it was dark and her vision was shit.

Aiko blinked on the Rinnegan, hidden behind the genjutsu, and took an instant to breathe in the tableau.

Yuusaku's back was to her in a defensive posture- it must have been him with the presence of mind to call for her. The other two boys were -

She twisted.

-they were behind and to the left. One of them was bleeding heavily. Figured- it looked like Temari's work. Streaks of blood painted the ground in front of them.

She couldn't see over Yuusaku's shoulder, but when she leaned to the side she could tell that Gaara was staring at her team, eyes glinting in the dark. Something was shifting inside the gourd he carried on his back. It sounded more like a cat waking up on a bedspread than murder-dust stirring, but it was probably not a cat on a bedspread.

'He is the type to carry a grudge after all,' Aiko noted, somewhere in the back of her mind. Then she hooked her hand into Yuusaku's collar and pulled him away to the first place she could think of before he could react.

She should have taken him to the hotel room in Konoha, but she was standing in front of Mei again. Aiko dropped the genjutsu and held her hands up into a new seal before the startled genin could whip around to look at her. He turned just in time to see her henge into his face, taking an instant longer to try to nod to the disheveled state of his equipment in her disguise.

Then she was back to the forest, ten feet to the right of where she'd been before. That hadn't been intentional, but it was good. It'd take the focus further from Keisuke and Ryuusei.

Gaara blinked at her, registering her new location much faster than the others. She didn't wait for any of the genin to catch on to what had happened- she ran at Kankuro. He didn't even see her before she hit him, sending him skidding to the ground and crashing into a jagged shrub. Temari stepped at her, fan splayed, but Aiko kicked her legs out from under the girl, twisted, and was on top of her back before any of the genin could react.

Temari grunted as her head was yanked backwards. Aiko pressed her foot a little harder into the space between the teen's shoulder blades and tightened her grip around a spiky blonde ponytail.

Well. She had Gaara's undivided attention. Her genin were inching away, Ryuusei supporting Keisuke's weight in a way that implied the news was bad.

'You can't fuck with my team, assholes. I don't even like them that much, but they're mine.'

She felt her lips pressed into an ugly expression. "This is downright unfriendly," she commented. She directed her words toward Temari and gave an unfriendly tug of her own, not appreciating the damage to her genin. "I think you might have hurt my teammates' feelings, Suna-san."

Temari's hand scrabbled on her fan, but she had no leverage to swing it. It moved a few inches, digging into the moss coating the forest floor.

Kankuro had regained his feet and was eyeing her warily.

"You should go," Aiko advised. She didn't think they'd take her up on it. But it would draw way too much attention if someone beat the shit out of Gaara.

Gaara swiped, a fist of sand that would have broken bones if it had connected. Aiko let go of Temari to leap out of the way. Just to be ostentatious, she did a flip while she dodged. Because really, no matter how big and bad Gaara thought he was, he was fucking 13. This was ridiculous. He needed to be put in detention and given a hug. There was no call for these dramatics.

'I should end this interaction and make sure it doesn't happen again. I can't beat Gaara without risking interfering with Suna's invasion plans, so I just need to separate the groups.'

"You're a little stormcloud, aren't you," Aiko observed, nodding at the darkness of Gaara's expression. "Look, I'm not interested in fighting you. I'd thought that your team would try for the record. Why are you wasting your time? You could have been to the tower already."

His eyes were furious. She knew what was coming before he made a motion. Aiko let her gaze dart over to the genin on the ground, calculated the difference, and used the Konoha-classic wood substitution jutsu when the sand coffin came crashing down like a fist of a god. There was a fraction of an instant when the jutsu closed on her where she had time to be surprised at the sensation of sand digging into her skin. It wasn't pain, exactly, not at that point. It was more of a scratchy all-body hug.

Well. It wasn't a good place to linger, most likely.

Ryuusei had just opened his mouth to scream when she landed in a crouch behind him, grabbed both genin, and removed them from the altercation altogether. Fuck it. If the hiraishin jump was caught on camera there'd be some questions, but Konoha couldn't force for answers. They'd have to wonder.

When she let go of Keisuke's arm, something tacky and warm squished in her fingers. He moaned in shock. Aiko grimaced at the feeling and stood. She wanted to shake her hands, but that'd just send it splattering.

Ryuusei rounded on her. "What the fuck was that?" He reached out and gave her a shove. Bemused, she let it happen. It'd been meant for someone heavier than she was, so Aiko had to step backwards quickly to keep her balance. The teenager was paper-white. "That wasn't the plan- that was-"

"Ryuusei," Aiko interrupted. "Let's take care of Keisuke and then argue."

She could see the instant he realized that she wasn't his teammate. Actually, it was a bit irritating to see that flash of terror on the face of someone she'd just saved. She gave him a pointed smile. His mouth dropped shut. He ducked his head.

'I suppose that explains why Yuusaku was the one to call for help. One man was down, and one is more afraid of me than the Ichibi. Fucking idiot. I told them about Gaara specifically.'

"Yuusaku?" Keisuke's voice was lower, disoriented. "What happened?"

"I used shunshin to take us away," Aiko lied calmly. That was highly improbable for a genin- she couldn't do that, actually, but then she'd never had reason to hone her shunshin to those heights. It wasn't impossible, strictly speaking. Just improbable. "I don't think we should fight them. Let's hurry and get through this forest so that we don't encounter them again. Remind me what scroll we have?"

"Wha…" Keisuke swayed. She steadied his shoulders unthinkingly, and then thought better of it to gently lay him down flat. "Don't you have it?"

His tone was odd. She cast a look at Ryuusei.

He blinked slowly. A finger twitched towards his own hip holster. Then to the ground.

Ah. Keisuke realized that she was acting oddly for Yuusaku, but didn't know it was Aiko yet. He was testing her. He wasn't half-bad, if he could try something like that while bleeding out.

Aiko felt her lips quirk into a smile. "Did you hit your head? I need a look at your arm now. Ryuusei, med kit." She kept up a running commentary as she cut off his sleeve and the arm-bands securing hidden weaponry. "I was testing you. Ryuusei has the earth scroll, obviously."

He relaxed, pliant in her grip. "I want an explanation later," Keisuke slurred. "You've been holding out on us."

"Hmm." She let that hang in the air. He'd probably figure it out later, but no way was she going to verbally acknowledge that she wasn't a genin in this forest. She didn't sense anyone, but that didn't necessarily mean shit. Especially since it was trapped with cameras and sound equipment. "Good job earlier," Aiko said. She assumed, anyway. Keisuke had probably tried to take a blow for his teammates, judging by the bloodspray and his position earlier. Aiko hissed in sympathy when she saw the full extent of the problem. Temari could be vicious.

'But I didn't expect her to be ready to make a killing blow. Is she blooded already? It could also have been a miscalculation. She is just a genin. Or she could have assumed it wouldn't matter what she did, since Gaara wouldn't let them live anyway.'

"What?" Keisuke asked when the silence was a little too long.

Aiko blinked. Well. "She clipped your artery. You'll probably be fine, as long as we get it taken care of."

She'd survived a lot worse. But he was going to need medical attention. Like, as soon as possible, by someone a lot more competent than she was.

Keisuke startled. Ah. That probably wasn't something you should say to a patient, was it?

Whatever. She wasn't interviewing for the hospital.

Aiko held him down. "Stay still, we want your heartrate down." Businesslike, she cleaned the wound- that she could do. Then she bound it tight. When she was done, she levered him to his feet and guided the arm to his chest. "Put pressure on it with the other hand," Aiko instructed.

Keisuke gave her a wounded look, obviously confused. "Why?"

'So you're distracted and feel like you're doing something.'

Instead of answering, Aiko made a grabby hand motion in Ryuusei's direction. "Water," she commanded.

He fumbled for a moment, then passed it over. Aiko held it up to Keisuke's mouth and gave him a stern look until he started drinking.

Actually.

"Ryuusei, help him get hydrated," Aiko ordered. She let him take her place. "I'm going to scout out a team to get a scroll from. We're going to the tower tonight."

She cast her gaze up, checking the moonlight.

Hmm. What was it, five am?

No wonder her team was flagging, if they hadn't camped down for the night. Most teams would have, Aiko decided.

'They probably thought they could make it through the forest in one go,' Aiko realized. 'That's the only reason not to sleep the first night.'

Prideful twits. They weren't that good. They were too incautious- it was the same hubris that had compelled them to think they knew better than she did about setting up camp in Konoha's forests on the way in.

But it was better to stumble on Gaara then to have him find you sleeping, she supposed. The first time around, the Suna team would have been finished with the test about an hour ago, smashing the test record by five hours. They'd gone looking for her team, probably because she'd hurt their pride.

Annoying.

Also entirely her fault. It was fitting that she fix this.

But, of course the nearest team she found was a Konoha team. Aiko frowned at the genin on watch, safely ensconced on an overhanging branch outside of the barrier of their traps.

Kiba was dangerously close to nodding off, one hand curled in Akamaru's fur. Hinata was curled up nearby, nearly touching Shino.

'Puppies,' Aiko thought, and felt something tug in her chest.

They shouldn't be in this situation, really. They'd get out of it alright, but…

'Hinata fights Gaara,' Aiko remembered suddenly. 'She's really not strong enough to beat him.'

Well. She survived that- barely. Of course, that was the catalyst towards her ousting as Hyuuga heir, Aiko realized. After that, she'd been an outcast. After that, she'd started staying with the Uzumaki household. It worked out in the end.

But.

There wasn't an Uzumaki household here. There was no Aiko to take on duties as the most farcical, technical sort of clanhead. There wasn't even Karin, as far as she'd seen. Not yet. No one would trust Naruto, a genin, to watch over a foreign genin once she was converted. He certainly couldn't protect Hinata socially and politically.

Shit.

Well.

'I might actually be doing Hinata the biggest favor of her life, if I keep her from that tournament. And the opportunity dropped into my lap.'

Well. If that was decided, where would the scroll be? Aiko sucked on the inside of her cheek. During the day, it could be in anyone's possession. But at night? Kiba probably had it, since he was awake-passing it off to the conscious teammate would be the most logical choice. And a team that contained Shino would probably take that route.

She eyed the genin in question closely. His chest was moving slowly. Every once in a while, a muscle tensed in his jaw, as if he was nearly grinding his teeth. He had his oversized coat… and Akamaru was resting on his lap, instead of inside the coat as was customary. No one would think that odd unless they knew Kiba's habit of cuddling his dog. So. The scroll was inside Kiba's jacket, and Akamaru had wiggled out because the metal-edged scroll was uncomfortable.

God, Kiba was actually sleeping, wasn't he?

No, not quite, Aiko determined on a closer look. He was just relying far too much on his ears and letting his eyes rest. There was a very good chance that would lead to him actually falling asleep, leaving the team unprotected.

He didn't hear her touchdown in the camp. He didn't startle when she leaned over him. His eyes flew open when she yanked his coat zipper down and snatched the scroll in one smooth motion. Akamaru barked in the same instant, picking up on her scent as she left her position downwind. Their eyes met, inches apart. Kiba yelled something incomprehensible that had Shino all but flying upright, winging a shuriken at her.

Aiko was already gone. She paused for a moment in the undergrowth, listening to the team awaken and panic. She shook her head.

Well. Kurenai must be a good teacher- that team had some sense. It had been impossible to grab the scroll without alerting the one guarding it. They couldn't be faulted for failing to realize a jounin would be the one coming for their prize. That was ridiculously unfair, really.

'But life isn't fair,' Aiko thought with the deep satisfaction who was often on the other side of that unfortunate truth. She flickered back to her team before she took a good look at the scroll.

It was another earth scroll.

Aiko leaned her head back and took a deep breath. Goddammit. She'd wasted half an hour surveilling them and gotten a useless scroll out of the deal.

"You're back already?" Ryuusei whispered. He was holding one arm around his teammate. Concerned, Aiko realized that Keisuke's eyes were closed and that he was shuddering. Not good.

Wordlessly, Aiko held up the scroll and watched the genin's eyes fall.

"He's cold." Ryuusei sounded frightened. "What do I do?"

Aiko gritted her teeth. "Start a fire," she ordered. "It'll draw attention if anyone is near, but he needs the heat. I'm hurrying. Call me if you need help." Wait. Her team had been so slow at setting up camp. It wouldn't be any faster with one worried genin doing the work. She hesitated a moment, and then scrambled to help start the campfire. It was a hasty, ugly attempt that wouldn't burn more than an hour, but she lit it on the first try and hauled Keisuke closer. He was clammy.

Shit.

Aiko closed her eyes and concentrated on the closet chakra signatures. It took some straining- she'd never been good at this without using rain. She could do that, but there was 'that person is suspiciously advanced for a genin' and 'there's no fucking way that's a genin.' Demonstrating more than one high-level skill was veering sharply into the second territory.

"Ten minutes south," she decided a full minute later. She cast one last look at the teenagers. "I'll hurry. Keep him warm and be ready to move out."

She couldn't take them all the way to the tower with hiraishin, and she couldn't be with them when they went in. Someone would verify their identities.

'Get the right scroll, bring those two within easy distance of the tower, and then switch myself out for Yuusaku so that he can get them to the medic,' Aiko determined. 'I have to go fast, and without letting anything potentially incriminating get caught on camera.'

The cameras had probably caught at least some of what she'd done so far already. Anyone who watched it would know that her actions were far above what her genin should be capable of, even though they would mistake her hiraishin for shunshin. Poor Yuusaku would be in the hotseat when Konoha decided he was not a genin level shinobi. But everyone stacked the teams for these events. As long as that was all that Konoha could assume, they'd be fine.

They'd be just fine.

Thump. Thump. Thump-thump.

Aiko dug her head a little deeper into the blankets, but her eyes were wide open. She scowled. She considered pretending she'd heard nothing.

Thump. Thump.

She considered killing whoever was on the other side of the door, dropping the body in the ocean, and going back to sleep.

Thump-thump.

Ugh. "Just a minute," she called without caring that her words would probably be unintelligibly muffled. Then she struggled out of bed. She wasn't dressed for company, but that was fine. Maybe it'd make them feel uncomfortable and leave faster.

Barefoot, messy-haired, and in her underpants, Aiko opened the door. "What," she said in her most uninviting tone. She'd had a long night. She deserved sleep.

The chuunin on the other side was completely unfazed. He seemed a bit bored, even. "Your genin cleared the second exam," he said. "It was a record, actually."

She allowed smugness to creep into her expression- she couldn't fake surprise.

"They've been seen by a medic, but you need to see the person responsible for their treatment and sign off." He sniffed, as if he had a runny nose. "Liability."

Her mouth was a flat line of disapproval. It might have been better for her to mimic concern, but it was too late for that now.

What he was saying didn't make sense. It seemed benign to ask a minor's temporary guardian to approve of medical paperwork and waive responsibility, but it shouldn't be necessary. No one would take on the liability of hosting an exam if the participants' home villages hadn't already waived all right to complain about damages and deaths beforehand. What were they trying to pull? She'd been a coordinator for this event. Foreigners had been quickly appraised of deaths and life-threatening injuries on their teams, but her students hadn't had anything like that when she last saw them.

'Either they were attacked after the exam, or Konoha is trying something with me. I should be careful with whatever it is they want me to agree to.'

She kept the calculation off her face. "Where do I go and when?"

"They're in the tower, of course," the chuunin said breezily. "Please hurry." His chakra roiled, and she sensed the shunshin before he appeared to break into a cloud of leaves.

Aiko slammed the door shut, but some leaves still got in. Perfect. Near-violently, she went about getting ready for the day, still considering possibilities. She really couldn't see what they'd get out of this, unless they were going to try to trick her into signing something, or if they wanted to surprise her with something at the tower and needed an excuse to get her there. She pulled on the uniform that she'd eschewed last night, grimacing at the weight of the armor. It put her off-balance. She took a few minutes to smear concealer under her eyes and apply mascara, so that her lack of sleep was less obvious. She frowned into the mirror for a second, wrestling with the sensation that she was missing something, but nothing came to mind.

So Aiko hurried across town to see what was going on, jumping fences but mostly sticking to the most obvious, conventional route to training ground 44. Aiko pulled up short when she saw the figure leaning against the fence, waiting for her.

Kakashi took a moment to look up, apparently as exhausted as she felt. "Ah," he drawled. She forced her feet to carry her onward, and kept her face impassive. "Did you fall back to sleep? At least you made it on your own."

She was instantly on guard. She knew Kakashi- she knew how he thought, how he worked, and that he was provoking her for a purpose. And that, from him- that was him inviting her to walk into a verbal trap. If she responded with something that came to mind, like, "Why would I need help to find a place less than an hour from my hotel," he would say something like-

fuck.

'They didn't specify what tower,' Aiko realized with horror. 'I'm a foreigner, remember? I should have assumed that chuunin was referring to the Hokage tower, unless I knew that my students were supposed to go to another tower as the conclusion for their test. They hadn't told me that yet. The teacher's aren't invited there until the end of the test.'

FUCK.

She'd just confirmed that she knew a lot more about Konoha than she should- or that she'd been in the forest of Death last night. Yeah. Someone had definitely seen some incriminating footage, or at least wondered at the fact that her team had been the first into the tower despite not having been flagged as a team to watch.

Kakashi was still waiting for her to respond.

So she opened her mouth and pitched her voice into a chirp. "You look tired this morning, Hatake-san. Did you have a late night?" Aiko intentionally made her expression as guileless and sweet as possible, because he'd find that really irritating.

"No." Then he looked away, apparently bored. Conversation was over.

She couldn't see his frustration at being brushed-off, but she knew it was there. And that was about all she was likely to get. He'd tricked information out of her (and it probably had been him, this had Kakashi written all over it), but at least she wasn't giving him the satisfaction of rubbing it in her face.

Sure enough, he maintained sullen silence all the way to the tower, where he guided her without meeting any of the genin still struggling in the forest.

Keisuke was fine. She signed the paperwork presented to her. She pretended not to know what had actually been important that morning.

Inside, she seethed. That was a stupid, rookie mistake, and she'd walked right into it. Now she was left with two options that weren't great.

Should she hope Konoha thought that she was overly familiar with the city- perhaps that she'd been spying on them- or hope that they conclude she had cheated?

When she was safely ensconced in her hotel room once again (the genin needed to remain in the tower until the exam was completed) she bit at her lip.

They probably suspected that she knew how to locate the tower because she'd helped her team cheat. Their lack of trust in her integrity was, of course, an arrow in her heart, but she'd somehow soldier on. Of course she'd cheated. Duh.

It's not like they could do shit about that.

Cheating was expected at these sort of things. They could suspect her of anything they wanted- unless she confessed or they could prove it by catching her in the act, that wouldn't cause any complications like getting her team expelled. Boohoo, Konoha would conclude that someone from Kirigakure wasn't a terribly honest person. It wasn't exactly a shocking conclusion.

The real problems were that they would want to know how and why she had evaded her supervision and interfered in the exam.

They'd tighten surveillance of her, that's for sure, now that they could be reasonably certain that she'd snuck past them somehow. But they wouldn't figure it out. Probably. They might guess, but she doubted it- Konoha was too caught up in the mythology of the fourth Hokage to admit that if he'd invented something like the hiraishin, then so could someone else.

…It wasn't like she had re-invented it, but the possibility was still real. And they definitely wouldn't come to the conclusion that Jiraiya had given her the notes to reconstruct and modify it, so that first thing was a close to the truth as they could reasonably be expected to get.

All she could really do was wait it out, then, and try not to do anything suspicious again. There was more chance she'd get caught doing something she shouldn't if they were on guard. As for the other matter-

'The simplest explanation for my motivation is the best,' Aiko decided. 'Mizugakure needs the boost to their reputation from a sterling chuunin exam showing. That's relatively benign, and also true. It's better than Konoha assuming I'm pulling the same kind of shit as Suna or Oto. They probably wouldn't think that waiting for someone else's invasion is much better than participating in it.'

So. She'd work to give that impression, then.

The other thing that she needed to address… Aiko grimaced.

'People will expect the team that broke the record to be better than my genin are. I painted a target on Yuusaku especially by using his face. If they perform badly or even just average… it will look beyond bizarre, and undermine the fiction that I'm doing everything and anything to impress prospective clients.'

She was going to hold her breath and hope like fucking hell that they made it through the elimination round, if there was one, and that she could somehow whip them into shape.

Or help them cheat. Whatever. She wasn't picky.

#vapors #uzumaki aiko #electrasev5n #ninja daily #fanfiction #naruto fanfiction #clarity #AIC #Aiko in Canon

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writingspacetrash · 2 years ago

Text

Spare Parts

2,353 words

The sigh emerging from the mechanic‘s throat was long, and tired, and not one bit ironic. He was staring at the hole in Zoe‘s space-boat and contemplating all his life choices. At least that was what it looked like to Zoe. She had often seen that look on people‘s faces when trying to argue with her. She prided herself on it.

“That… thing is so old,” the mechanic finally said. Zoe crossed her arms.

“It‘s a goddamn cooler. You‘ll be able to replace it.”

The mechanic had his hands propped up on his hips. He looked completely out of his depth. His partner patted him on the shoulder sympathetically. They both had spent about an hour trying to find out what part was broken, how that could even have happened, what the hell the ship even was. Zoe‘s explanations had only been semi-helpful. The moment they‘d realised what kind of ship they had on their hands, one of them had laughed and shaken his head, calling one of his mechanic friends, it seemed. Zoe had enough of the gloomy workshop.

“Tonners have been out of production for centuries,” said the other mechanic in a thick Kryxian accent. He was clearly getting annoyed. “It‘s not compatible with any other models.”

“Bullshit. You can make something work.“ They had to. She could maybe steal another ship to get out of here, but Martyn was really fond of the Tonner. He would kill her if she‘d leave it behind.

The mechanics both shook their heads.

“Ma‘am, this ship is way too complicated to fix,” said the first mechanic. Zoe started searching her pockets. “I know it doesn‘t look that way, but- what are you doing?” Zoe‘s face brightened as she felt the cool metal of her gun.

“The way I see it is easy,” she said, pulled out the gun and pointed it at the mechanics‘ mortified faces. They slowly raised their hands. “This is a broken ship. You two fix broken ships for a living. Make it work.”

The polite one started shaking his head, along with his entire body, which didn‘t seem to be his intention. The one with the accent pulled a face, his purple skin revealing sharp teeth covered in slime. Zoe didn‘t blink and cocked her gun. “Fix the ship, or I‘ll kill you both.”

“We can‘t-” began the Accent.

“We- we‘ve- I think we‘ve got a construction manual,” stuttered Polite. Zoe raised her eyebrows. She flicked her gun towards him. “Get it.” Polite scurried away into the back of the workshop with a quiet mumbling. Zoe kept her eyes on the Accent. He kept his eye on her.

Polite returned with a beige, almost brown roll of paper. He handed it to her with trembling fingers. She let it unroll by itself, keeping the gun pointed at the mechanics. Cryptic symbols in faded ink crowded the paper, along with swirly drawings of God knew what. She looked back up at the mechanics.

“Are you fucking with me?” Polite shook his head.

“We told you it‘s old,” said the Accent.

“Martyn will fucking kill me, do you know that?” Polite shrugged. He looked like he was about to cry. The Accent only glared at her. She scanned the paper roll again. Something about the symbols looked familiar. “Is that… Xarwn?”

“Bless you,” said the Accent.

“Don‘t get cheeky. This is Xarwn!” Sure, the ink was faded, and the runes pretty small, but she was certain this was the ancient language of Rwdh. Unfortunately, she didn‘t have a ship to get her there. She scanned the workshop and noticed a sleek skipper hanging off some wires. She gestured towards it with the gun. “That working?” Polite threw a quick glance and then nodded.

“‘Kay. I‘ll borrow that, then. I‘ll bring it back, don‘t worry.”

“Oh, we won‘t,” snarled the Accent. Zoe ignored him and went over to the skipper. Polite removed the wires and closed up its hull. The control panel looked a bit different to the skipper she‘d learned to fly a few years back, but she‘d manage. A few buttons pressed and she was hovering out of the workshop, to the lift off portal in front of it, where other repaired ships were parked. Her eyes wandered over the panel and found the microphone. She grinned.

“I‘ll be back,” sounded her voice from the skipper, distorted. “God that’s so cool.“ She giggled. The Accent was still pulling a face. Once a Kryxian did that, it took some time for their skin to slid back over their teeth again. So maybe he didn‘t mean to.

Zoe pulled a lever and kicked a pedal, and the skipper was in the air, then in the atmosphere, and then outside it. She typed in the commands for a hyper-jump, leaned back and closed her eyes. Not because she was relaxed. Hyper-jumps always made her sick. But maybe the skipper would think she was cool.

Rwdh was, in many ways, not a very important planet. Lying at the very edge of the Wheel of Fortune (#2 on the Stargazer‘s Magazine List of Foreseeable, Yet Kind of Nice Galaxy Names, right behind God‘s Eye on #1) it was too far off other solar systems to be a decent holiday destination, it had no valuable exports, and was of very little political or military interest, which in these times seemed to blur.

The only people that took interest in the little planet were archeologists with too much time on their hands, because of Rwdh‘s ancient history. Lots of planets had an ancient history, and Rwdh was neither an exception nor special. Ruins covered its greatest continent like chocolate sprinkles a cake, and while most of the Rwdhians had learned to build houses between them, there were still some monasteries keeping the ancient knowledge of their culture alive, but mostly in dusty books and scrolls. The monks in those monasteries were the only people in the universe who knew Xarwn, the root of many other languages which had died out when Rwdh had come in touch with its celestial neighbours.

Zoe had lived in one of the monasteries for a while. They granted shelter to travellers, and she had been more than eager to accept after someone really funny had teleported her across the universe. She hoped to get help from one of the friends she‘d made, although the circumstances of her departure hadn‘t been… optimal.

She landed the skipper on a universal parking lot in one of Rwdh‘s many towns. The monastery wasn‘t very hard to find, since it floated twenty metres up in the air. A circular arcade hovered in the middle of the complex, surrounded by the living quarters and little chapels. All were connected with wooden bridges, and through the arcade rose a silvery spire, its tip hidden in thick clouds. Zoe had never quite understood the purpose of the spire. The monks had told her it was secret, not meant to be understood or even known by outsiders. Zoe had finally decided that it was art.

Below the floating complex there was a little hut occupied by a tired looking guard. He took his chin out of his hand when she approached him and stood up with a groan.

“Welcome traveller, Xareth blesses you, what do you seek from the monks of Ancient Rwdh, yada yada yada…” Zoe straightened up. What did she want? A translation of a construction manual. Yeah, right, she couldn‘t say that.

“Uh, I have this… ancient text written in Xarwn, I need help translating it.”

The guard held out his hand and Zoe gave him the manual.

“Yep. That‘s Xarwn.” He handed it back to her. “Name?” She told him. “Alright then. I‘ll get someone.” He stood upright and closed his eyes. A second later, glowing green light surrounded him, indicating amateur telepathy. He stayed that way for a minute, then his chin dropped to his chest and the green glow faded. With a sniff he looked up again, his eyes reddened.

“Fuckin‘ hate that. They say you can come up. Seemed to know you.” He fished a teleportation bracelet from his pocket, closed it around Zoe‘s wrist and pressed the blue button. Zoe felt like her body was being disassembled atom by atom and then reassembled again inside a dimly lit room, because that was literally what was happening.

“Urgh,” she made and shook the tingling from her limbs. She looked up and saw a very familiar figure standing in front of her, arms crossed.

“You have some incredible nerve turning up here again,” said Inyo. She was just as beautiful as Zoe remembered her, the yellow monk‘s robe complementing her purple hair, tied up in intricate braids. Painted white dots lined her soft cheekbones and drew attention to her brown, of course very angry, eyes.

“Inyo!” said Zoe, trying to be cheerful, “How nice to see you again!” Inyo glared at her. Zoe felt very small. “Look, I‘m sorry. I‘m really sorry. You can‘t imagine how sorry I am. For leaving you. But I really need some help with this constru-”

“What the fuck, Zoe?” Inyo uncrossed her arms. “You leave the monastery one night, without telling me, without telling anyone, and then you show up six months later expecting help?” She started gesturing wildly. “Have you got anything in your brain?” Zoe fumbled with her sleeves.

“Inyo, I don‘t know how to-”

“You told me you loved me!” Inyo‘s eyes were wide open, hands raised in a silent question. Zoe looked at the floor.

“Truth is, Inyo,” she said, “I didn‘t really feel the way you did. Have never felt that way. Towards anyone.” Zoe glanced carefully at Inyo, whose mouth was still slightly open. Her hands sunk to her sides.

“You could‘ve told me that,” she said, her accusatory tone fading. “Nothing wrong with that. But why didn‘t you tell me?” Zoe shrugged. She wished she could‘ve shrugged her skin off. Telling Martyn hadn‘t been so uncomfortable.

“See, that was the first time I ever realised. I mean, I had suspected it before… I‘d never had a crush, not really. But I liked you, very, very much. Maybe I loved you. But it wasn‘t romantic. I think to you it was, and that made me just… so uncomfortable. I‘m sorry I just left one night. I was dealing with a lot of shit back then, and I know I should‘ve told you, I owed you that. But I didn‘t. And I‘m sorry. I hope I can make up for it.” Inyo‘s expression softened. She seemed to think for a while, then sighed.

“It‘s okay. I got over it.” Zoe smiled carefully at her, and Inyo smiled back. She lifted her hands slightly, but as Zoe pursed her lips, she let them fall again.

“Still not a hugger, I see.” Zoe chuckled and shook her head.

“I owe you a favour now.”

“Oh, at least three, don‘t be ridiculous. What do you need help with, then?” Zoe pulled the scroll out of her bag and handed it to Inyo.

“This is a construction manual for my ship‘s model, written in Xarwn. I managed to get the cooler… disabled, and the mechanics wouldn‘t repair it, said it‘s too old. But that ship is only lent and belongs to a friend of mine who‘s very attached to it. I really need those spare parts.” Inyo studied the scroll, her eyebrows knitting together.

“How in Xar‘s name-” she muttered.

“What is it?” Inyo looked up at Zoe, confusion set in her face.

“That‘s a Sychken. They‘re little transporters we produce to, well, go up.”

“Up where?”

“Up up.” She nodded to the window, where Zoe could see the arcade and the silvery spire in some distance. Her eyes widened.

“People actually go up there?” Inyo nodded.

“Not that I‘ve ever seen it happen. But that hut complex over there is a workshop just for the Sychken. I‘ve had a couple of shifts there before. Weird. How did your friend even get that ship?” Zoe shrugged.

“No idea.” She studied the five floating huts, steam rising from three of them.

“I bet they have a cooler there,” she said.

“They should. I could go have a look. Of course, stealing from the workshops would be sacrilege.” Zoe looked at her, alarmed, but Inyo winked.

“But we have had our experiences with sacrilege, haven‘t we?” Zoe grinned.

“Are you willing to go against Xar‘s Plan for me one more time?”

“Any time,” Inyo whispered and blew her a kiss. They laughed.

“I‘ll have to leave you down with Greg, though, sorry.”

“Oh, the guard.” Zoe sighed. “Okay.” Inyo patted her shoulder.

“I believe in you. See you in a minute.”

Down at the hut was not Greg, but a different guard, hunched over so much he was only half his supposed height. He watched her with his one good eye, his bushy eyebrows knitted together. Zoe tried to grin at him, but he only grunted. His eye glimmered red. Zoe decided to study the ground instead.

Inyo returned after a few minutes, something round and shiny in her hand. Zoe stashed it in her bag, praying to whatever god was listening that it would fit the Tonner. Inyo kissed her cheek for goodbyes.

“You should visit some time.” Zoe assured her she would.

The skipper took her back to Kryx, where she showed her new cooler to the bewildered mechanics. They installed it without speaking a word. When Zoe left, the Accent‘s facial skin had finally slid back over his dreadful teeth.

The guard that was not Greg frowned as he checked the visitor‘s security scan. There seemed to be a tiny black void inside her pocket, which crashed his computer whenever he tried to analyse it. He reported this telepathically to the High Priestess, who called him Up.

The High Priestess‘ eyes were of a black so deep it was almost purple, filled with glittering stars and planets and moons. And amidst all that beautiful chaos, something shining, of a colour no one had ever seen before.

#my own writing #original writing #scifi #oc #long post #2 #creative writing #writblr #beginner writer #again. sorry for the inconsistent punctuation i'll write this all in one program from now on

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corvidexoskeleton · 2 years ago

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hands you these numbers

Darryl: 1, 3, 9, 12 Butch: 5, 8, 10, 15 Elster: 4, 12, 13, 18 Amsel: 2, 3, 15, 20

Darryl:

1. On a scale of “is occasionally forced to bathe” to “Instagram model with sponsors to hoe for” how involved is your OC’s Skincare routine?

Showers on a consistent schedule when she has the ability to. Not showering for prolonged periods of time doesn't bother her, as she's used to being in situations where it's often not available. Skincare consists of the standard body soap + shampoo + conditioner trifecta, and if it's available, some kind of lotion to keep her skin from drying out too much

3. What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC?

Those people who are just absolute LARP-y gun nuts who romanticize the US and its military, and insist on being an ultra-nationalist patriot who thinks slapping the US flag on everything they own makes them more american

Paetially because I think she would just hate how obnoxious they are, but I don't think it would bother her quite so much until later in life and has actually been in war and combat, and realizes that these people don't understand what the hell they're talking about

9. What would cause your OC to chose to do something petty/pointlessly cruel?

Finding the person who killed her son, or anyone who personally hurts or kills someone she cares about

12. What perfectly-normal-to-them-thing does your OC do that confuses/pisses off/terrifies their neighbors?

I think she might have some habits from being in active combat situations that would have confused people pre war that didn't know what caused them. Though, I guess it would really be a mix of habits, muscle memory, and possibly some ptsd as well, the kind that has her instinctively moving to retaliate if someone takes her off guard, or has her automatically checking where she's as for enemies

Butch:

5. Does your OC get lost easily? What do they do when they do get lost?

I think I mentioned previously that they don't get lost easily, but that is entirely dependent on them paying attention. If they can't pay attention to their surroundings, then they're much more likely to get lost. Of course, it also depends on just how complicated the area is and how much twisting and turning is going on. They won't be memorizing the layout of a maze, but they can reliably pick up on the general layout of an area after a few passes through it

8. If your OC had to take the S.A.T. tomorrow with one night to prep, how would they do? both emotionally and academically.

Well I would imagine they've already had to take it before, so they likely wouldn't do too bad academically, and probably wouldn't really be that worried about it. That is assuming that it's just a "hey take this test" situation, and not a literal life or death situation. Stress goes up as the stakes rise

10. On a scale of “Complete and Justified nervous breakdown” to “Conquer The Entire Galaxy and become an Immortal God-Emperor”, how well would your OC handle being abducted by Aliens?

Again, depends on the context in which they're being abducted. Either way, they'd likely be pretty goddamn freaked out, but trying extremely hard to keep calm and take notice of literally everything they can in case they need to try and escape. Granted, if the context is a little more chill and the aliens aren't, like, trying to perform a vivisection, and are just kinda chillin', they'll be a little less stressed out, but still plenty freaked out

15. How often does your OC “zone out” or do things on autopilot and how severe have the problems that have arisen from that been?

Zoning out and going into autopilot would most often happen when they're working on a project or some other task. If it's something complicated thay requires a lot of concentration, then they can get so engrossed in it that that's the only thing they're focusing on and everything else may as well not exist, which would often lead to them not getting enough sleep before getting frozen as they would often lose track of time and go to bed later than they wanted

If it's just a task that doesn't require a lot of thought or focus, then depending on how long it takes they'll be more likely to go into autopilot where their body is doing the task, but their brain has mostly checked out and is off doing something else

Elster:

4. What’s your OC’s response to being asked for money by a homeless person?

Ignores them and keeps going. It doesn't even register to him

12. What perfectly-normal-to-them-thing does your OC do that confuses/pisses off/terrifies their neighbors?

If him and Amsel had any neighbors where they lived, I would imagine that him singing would probably piss a few people off eventually. Also, the fact that he not only has a turkey vulture for a pet, but also a tenek likely puts a lot of people off, especially since he's probably the type to talk to and act like they're his little babies

13. Under what circumstances would your OC appear naked in public?

Listen, if he's in a pickle, he's in a pickle, and he'll just have to own it and roll with the punches

18. What’s the trashiest item in your OC’s wardrobe, when was the last time they wore it and why do they still have it?

I can't imagine he even has much of a wardrobe, but ye olde booty shorts made by cutting the legs off a pair of pants/jeans. Don't think it's an everyday piece of clothing, but it still gets worn from time to time. Maybe also a harness of some kind

Amsel:

2. What are your OC’s food preferences (flavors/textures/spiciness/calories/ when and how they eat) and how did they get that way?

Is used to not havung the luxury of being able to just pick and choose, so if you ask her for specific preferences, you'll likely not get any helpful answers. But she likes sweet stuff, since it likely wouldn't be something she'd have ready access to. Kinda like that one really poem about a woman talking about when the seasons change and the traders bring mangoes from somewhere else

Although, tbh I think she'd like a lot of different stuff, so long as the flavors are strong. It adds excitement

3. What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC?

People who don't know how to get to the fucking point

15. How often does your OC “zone out” or do things on autopilot and how severe have the problems that have arisen from that been?

Doesn't zone out much, if at all, unless she's like. At home or smth and isn't worried about having to watch out. Would likely zone out a bit if she's doing something, but not by much

I could, however, see her potentially going into autopilot mode if she's been awake long enough, or if something has happened to her. Just has muscle memory and instinct take over if she's unable to keep fully conscious or aware

20. What’s your OC smell like? no, not that “Vanilla and Anxiety” evocative stuff, realistically. Body odor? what have they been touching all day? When was thier last shower? Did they put on any kind of artificial scent?

Dust and dirt, probably. Maybe a bit of leather and metal, from her gear and clothes. Also that specific way skin smells when you've been outside in the sun for a long time

#ask #answered #rockshortage #fallout #darryl murphey #butch delaney #elster #amsel #read more #long post

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vaguely-concerned · 4 years ago

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X-men Evolution; the great 2021 rewatch liveblog

exactly what it says on the tin, about halfway through the show I had TOO MANY FEELINGS and had to start writing some of them out haha (gets quite gambit & rogue/gambit heavy in the latter half, Because of Who I Am as a Person)

- this is my childhood’s x-men, my formative experience with them, and I’m happy to report that still seems like a good thing. the little eleven year old within me gets to geek out and have a good time with the characters and the surprisingly good animation and writing, adult me gets to CACKLE at regular intervals at the fashion/technology/absolute bonkers hot garbage comic book nonsense they use to justify a storyline every now and then, it’s been a good time

- I was like ‘ah well it is super dated it probably won’t be quite the same now’ and then rogue’s HAIR did the THING in the opening and ‘it’s all coming back to me now’ started playing in the background... the little baby queer in me swooning across time and space

- such a good beast, both his design and the writing, my heart aches for him all the time. he’s just so passionate! about being a teacher! helping young humans learn the stuff they’ll need in life! the most wonderful nerd man, just let good things happen for him

- I’m going to go ahead and assume that rogue’s ‘crush’ on scott is more of a deeply complex psychological process about desiring normalcy and intimacy and trying to figure out if she’s queer and dealing with her emerging sexuality and latching on to the first and best safely unavailable and nonthreatening older boy to project these issues onto rather than actually being a real thing, because I respect her so much as a person and I cannot bring myself to imagine she’s honestly attracted to a man who has POSTERS OF CARS on his bedroom wall. (I’ll give jean a break just because she seems to have a longer deeper history with him that might counteract some of that libido-kill, and also she’s a jock so lol)

like I am very sorry but can u imagine being a teenage girl with any interest in a boy with model cars in his bedroom when gambit’s swanning around being a much, much, much worse choice on almost every possible level but in a teen girl kryptonite kind of way? inconceivable

(I drag scott quite a few times in this and it’s not because I don’t love him, it’s just his tragedy to be the most draggable man in the world)

to be fair by the time gambit shows up that whole Situation has mostly played itself out I suppose but still

- toad’s design is so ineffably brilliant, I can’t quite tell you why but that ugly cute charm has really stuck with me, he’s one of the characters I remembered the best to this day just visually

- poor evan... he truly never had a chance, did he, they just saddled him with the most 90s teen bullshit they could come up with like he’s some kind of ‘what adult writers think teens like’ frankenstein’s monster ;______; it’s not your fault honey

- poor poor POOR storm, she gets one focus episode and they were like ‘we’re going to make an episode so racist -- ‘

I’m still STUNNED at how bad it was, but undeniably I laughed hysterically to the point that my neighbours were probably worried when that dude was earnestly like ‘He [stunningly breathlessly racist caricature of a ‘witch doctor’ guy] has stolen her powers, and he’s going to use them to take over Africa!!!’ fhajsdlfhsakjldfh oh really? tell me more, like how the fUCK this could be on television within my life time fasdlfhsdkjfhsad f just... fahjksdfh

- it’s a testament to gambit’s appeal as a character that his charm can survive what they’ve done with his hair and beard choices in this one fajskfhs regrettable but true I still fuckn LOVE him and in my highly biased yet Correct opinion he should have been around much more. get you a man who manages to stay hot through sheer Vibes even with a bowl cut

- aw scott/jean is kind of sweet in this show even if it’s taking them forEVER to get there, I like it

- it’s very nice of rogue to not mention magneto’s romantic daydreams and nostalgic memories about charles xavier after touching his face that one time... or maybe her brain did her a service and repressed it, there’s some stuff you shouldn’t have to know about your father figure

- the danger room is the very definition of ‘why do we even have that lever’ and I wonder what the fuck prof x does to have enough money to replace everything that gets busted all the time

- I’d say that a lot of the writing holds up surprisingly well! (but some of it is also incredibly inexcusably racist in ways that beggar belief, so... not full marks here) the characters have distinct voices and their arcs are set up and delivered on solidly for the most part, and there’s a lot of love showing through in small moments that are just there to have a funny/interesting thing to say about the characters and how their powers work separately and in combination. listen, sometimes I get so thirsty for like. basic goddamn competency in storytelling, let me have this

- ugggggh why is there captain america in my x-men have I not suffered enough... very very funny when prof x goes ‘sounds like you knew rogers personally’ and logan is like ‘I did ;)’ *all the students ganging up on steve rogers* “did you fuck our teacher, captain america?!”

- fskadfhas WHY are you showing me hot young-ified magneto’s ass fksjahfskj charles is not even here to see it, what a tragic waste erik

- ...I was sort of kidding before but uh I think logan genuinely did fuck captain america (or at least wishes very much that he did lol)

- wanda can have a little watching the world burn. as a treat for the way every single adult in her life has fucking failed her (’aren’t they treating you well here’ professor x she’s in a straightjacket)

- poor rogue tho can you imagine finding out after your biggest crush on a girl yet that she’s your fucking MOM in disguise... I would break out in cold sweat every time I thought about a boob forever after

- well seems like they really just had all that homoerotic rivalry stuff between quicksilver and spyke in their first ep only to never do anything with that again ever?? I mean even without the gay undertone that seems like a dynamic you spent most of an episode setting up writers what the hell haha

- dslhfkasjlh GAMBIT THERE HE IS MY BOY IS ON THE SCENE THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! I don’t even care about his awful hair situation or the fact that his eyes are wrong here (coloured contact lenses, maybe, for a watsonian explanation? though he’d probably have to get them made special, considering he needs the sclera and the iris covered up in different ways, I’ve seen some comic panels indicating he has been known to?)

(cute little detail: when he shuffles the cards the first time we see him he ends with removing the top card to show the ace of hearts beneath <3 foreshadowing baBEY he’s a... good-ish boy deep down. hey he tries okay shit gets complicated sometimes lol)

- cracking UP at gambit perched cheerily on the edge of a crate dispensing cards in the middle of the battle... he’s like ‘eh it’s a livin’ sfsajkhf remy stop working for supervillains just because you had nothing to do on a thursday afternoon and they said they’d pay you

- I’m guessing magneto must have imposed a strict order of silence on these guys or something because I cannot imagine any other reason for him to shut up, especially once he notices rogue is a QTE (or, far more likely, they hadn’t settled on any voice actors for the new characters until next season haha. it is kind of odd that they’re all keeping up near monastic silence, though, even sabertooth lol)

- WHAT an epic first meeting for us rogue/gambit fans here... first his shadow like there’s fireworks going off behind him lighting him up and then he gives her the fuckn king of hearts and she’s so enchanted by his dumb handsome face she doesn’t even notice it’s about to blow up in her hands and it all happens in heavily meaningful silence afjsdfjashjk no wonder this ship ingrained itself in my hindbrain

yeah look smug while you can remy she’s gonna have you on your knees one day and you’ll be happy about it lol

- god storm is so COOL, everything just fading out of focus when she really gets going... give her more screen time, show!!

- mystique is every person... this person... that person... that bird... that cat... that wolf... I’m not even sure she’s not also me... are you sure she’s not you?

- holy fuck I respect the hell out of the decision to just... blow up the entire status quo in a season ender, I only vaguely remembered that (actually in general I appreciate how good the continuity is -- buildings and places that get damaged in battles need to be repaired or rebuilt, it makes the consequences feel more real even when no one gets seriously hurt. where they get the money to restore scott’s car and logan’s motorbikes every time they go cablooie is still an open question tho lol is it credit card fraud, professor? is it telepathically acquired blackmail???)

- I first watched this when I was nine or so, so it’s a real experience to go from my starry eyed intrigued ‘oh my god... they’re teenagers’ to my horrified adult perspective of ‘oh my god... they’re TEENAGERS D:’

that goes double for the brotherhood boys honestly, I’m here with tears in my eyes like ‘I’m sorry the system has failed you so badly you’re all just a bunch of dumb kids whose caretakers clearly fucked up spectacularly’

like lance is always waiting for mystique to come back because she’s the closest thing he has to a safe parental figure, may we speak about how crushingly depressing that is

- rogue is so ready to throw hands at literally any moment and for that I love and treasure her immensely (I think getting to see her be so surly and unreasonable and sometimes difficult and jealous, like any teenager, meant a lot to me as a kid who was not really allowed to be any of these things, this version of the character has stayed with me so deeply. she holds on so fiercely to her right to feel what she feels and be what she is even when it’s ‘ugly’ or unreasonable, which I think plays in really interestingly with how her powers involve getting invaded by other people’s thoughts and memories to the point of overwhelming her own sense of self and the fact that she clearly has a lot of self-loathing and self-consciousness and confusion about her identity as well. I love her so much)

- oooof this is the ‘the gang experience a microaggression’ episode huh (well more like macroagressions really)

hits a bit different with adult eyes and perspective huh

- hearing jean sound almost like a child when she says ‘that’s so unfair!’ somehow has me like ;______; -- she has to be so adult and responsible all the time, and having her be reduced to the kid she still is and should get to be in front of this awful awful man she could squash like a bug with the flick of a thought... ugh I’m Big Sad (it is funny that jean seemingly plays Every Sport tho djfhaskj)

- MY BOY IS BACK!!! this time with the duster coat and his eyes the right colour, im so happy (too bad about the subdued colour scheme tho; I adore his dumb bright pink getup with my whole heart)

it’s kind of adorable that he takes the time to take the bullies aside and go ‘I know these guys can’t wreck you without getting expelled, but I think you’ll find no law set down by god or man would stop me from doing so whenever I wanted to. so piss off and leave them alone’ lol he’s looking out for them, in his own way

- in this episode: remy lebeau wrangles some kids while looking bored yet mildly amused the whole time. what the fuck does magneto have on you for you to agree to this level of babysitting duty buddy

- fun detail I noticed b/c when I get a fave I hyperfixate: he gave rogue the king of hearts before, but he ‘introduces’ himself to the brotherhood here (lol) with the jack of hearts, probably to symbolize he’s here as someone who works for magneto in this setting and not as his own man? it’s a demotion he’s given himself there, anyway, might be he’s not very pleased about his current position huh

- I like it when rogue and kitty team up, they’re not very effective together but their squabbling is so cute and non-aggressive

- pietro is what draco malfoy would be if I ever found malfoy interesting to watch for even one moment, every time quicksilver talks I’m like ‘what wonderfully insufferable thing is going to come out of your mouth this time you little shit :’)’

- a) why are scott and logan shirtless for this scene? I am not complaining on the logan side of things at least but why and b) I laughed so hard I almost fell off my couch when scott asked logan if he’d ever been in love and he was like ‘once. she was the most beautiful bike I ever saw’ falsdfhaskjfhsakjlfhasklhjfd THE BEST VERSION OF WOLVERINE EVER, ACCEPT NO SUBSTITUTES

- mystique’s sheer dedication to being a petty bitch is kind of inspirational tbh, almost makes me want to go on a completely bonkers and extra crusade of personal revenge myself

- oooh they’re doing some genuinely cool things with vision/lack of vision in this one (it’s the scott left on his own in the desert without glasses one btw) even visually, dang! I’m so sad this show didn’t get more seasons than it did, honestly, it deserved it

- hell yeah jean wreck her, go get your man with the suspiciously specific clothing damage normally done to female characters

awww :’) okay yeah they’re super sweet, I love the tiny loving animation details like how he leans his head against her and her stroking his hair away from his eyes

- nooo don’t bully evan leave my t0tally r4dical sk8er boy alone :(

- I love the running joke of people fleeing in blind panic only to reveal that what they’re running from is kitty’s cheerful well meaning little face fskfaskh

- scott and jean are already peak married after officially being together for one episode and it’s adorable, and they just stone cold threw logan under the bus, rip wolverine we hardly knew ya

fjasdlfasldfhslajdkfhsadkjlfhsdkjalfhsdakfh h jean establishing herself as the alphabitch of this relationship by throwing her man to the wolves right after dsjfhaskjfhaskjhfsakjdhfaskjhfaskdhfskjahfskdajhf get smarter or get volunteered scott

- ...eyepatch lady is so hot ngl

oh evan went to the place hank used to go to calm down ;________; (honestly he’s kind of won a place in my heart just by being a pretty normal teenage boy haha)

- jesus fucking CHRIST can you imagine being storm having to look her sister in the eye as she tells her ‘I lost your only child, he’s *vague gesture* somewhere in the sewers we think’ this poor woman

- amanda the self admitted monster fucker you are so VALID (I love her and her family’s design so much tho!)

- it’s so cool that even in his human ‘disguise’ kurt’s fingers follow the shape of his actual hand beneath it rather than moving like a five fingered hand, it’s such a lovingly consistent little detail

- magneto and mystique in a breathless race to see who can be the shittiest parent... tune in next week for yet another parental nadir (also some low-poly gambit appearances in this one, for those at home keeping score (me), he’s in the background looking like someone drew him with their eyes closed fakjldfhasd look how they massacred my boy)

- someone please teach the brotherhood boys about consent huh

- jean ‘soccer mom before her time’ grey and her SUV dfhakjlhds :’)

- im sobbing rogue baby girl i’m so sorryyyyyy, this voice actress is so good, my parental instincts suddenly kicked into overdrive hearing the crack in her voice :( (bb me was right tho rogue centric episodes ARE the best episodes. that tension between ‘do I identify witn this character or am I crushing on her?? both???’ now has the fun new addition of ‘oh god oh no you are a baby I want to shield you with my body from everything trying to hurt you’)

- mystique is like ‘so you see despite you telling me you never wanted to see me again I completely disrespected that and posed as a friend your age, manipulated you by offering you the mirage of direly needed emotional intimacy and belonging and added some sprinkles of homoerotic tension to it just to massively worsen your already existing grievous psychosexual trauma and identity issues... out of love’

god go jump in a black hole you fucking monster

- there’s some very interesting and quite subtle subtext about the people she’s morphing into and what that says about her mental state/how it shows off some of her emotional baggage with the rest of the team. it’s like she’s switching between people/powers that fit the purpose as if she’s going through cycles of fight/flight (and then bursts of freeze where she’s herself, which is... so sad)

- this whole episode is hurting my heart but rogue at full power is undeniably epic

- ‘professor x get your goddamn act together and get this poor girl some fucking tHERAPY’ challenge

- SAFE PAPA LOGAN ;_____;

- EYYYYYY opening straight on My Lad, I cannot stop winning!!!!!

fasdfhsad disintegrating the window with a smiley face... remy I do love you more than my heart can bear honestly, hello may we speak about the fact that his urge to be a little shit is so deep and strong it survives mind control (that little breathed out ‘hiah!’ as he vaults the fence too dsakfjsd)

hahaha and he does up the coat fhsalfdsaj

- magneto dismissing other telepaths like ‘puh-lease, your Meaningful Looks have got nothing on my ex-husband’s’

- :’) rogue and kurt sibling timeees

- say what you want but this pyro guy’s got job satisfaction in being a creepy arsonist with a weird recurring horse theme (well at least twice but still weird)

- I love how beast is the kindest man to ever walk the earth but also straight up savage, this man drags people so hard their ancestors wince in their graves

- gambit taking the time to complete the guard’s game of solitaire -- this episode is giving me everything I want. u little disgrace mr lebeau

and THEN he takes the spider out in the most hilariously bonkers way my heart is so FULL

(I love that when magneto moves by he looks startled and has to quickly move his head out of the way to avoid getting kicked in the temple too that’s a fun detail)

I’m so INTO how this sequence shows off that his greatest strength isn’t even his powers (which are pretty straightforward, really, he makes go boom, longer time and bigger thing bigger boom) but that he’s clever and creative and always extremely ready to be the most harebrained-bananapants-extra-in-a-deceptively-laidback-sort-of-way person in the room (I actually have some genuinely Deep Thoughts about how his whole character does a really interesting thing with having the straightforwardly destructive nature of his powers yield to what his nature as a person is, and how using the playing cards play (heh) into it, maybe I’ll write it out some day. just the fact that he could use anything, but he deliberately chose something that adds style and playfulness and corny charm to it and that also limits the damage of the explosions compared to if he habitually used something with more mass... I find it fascinating how much he’s made a story around himself with it and how deeply it shows he does have a good heart, at the end of the day, in almost a metatextual way. he doesn’t want to destroy things or people, he’s at worst (and best lol) a thief.)

- I honestly have literally no memory of white nick fury (which seems so weird now isn’t it funny) in this series from when I was a kid, he clearly did not make an impression on me lol

- mr wolverine ‘assigned canadian at birth’ x-men

- oh man I dig the androgynity of x-23′s outfit (even tho they had to compensate with the long hair, which... kind of doesn’t make sense in-universe but does on a design level because it’s a crucial thing that she’s a female clone of logan so yeah okay fine whatever have your arbitrary gender markers if you must haha)

ooooooh that’s actually really clever, they make her gender gradually more obvious as she unravels through the episode and her outfit changes -- first the mask coming off, and then her jacket opening to show her silhouette more clearly, that’s cool!

- my god what really sets this show apart is how much it invests in little character and relationship moments, it’s just so fucking GOOD! it gives laura looking in on those moments such depth and weight because it’s new to her but established to us as an audience, this is how you make found family devastating people (storm growing bonsai trees is so charming too haha)

- ooof this is honestly quite harrowing

SHE’S SO SMALL COMPARED TO HIM I’M CRYING (at least that part of his genes translated over faslkfsjdh short king, I say this with all the love and support of a fellow short monarch)

- tabitha seems to just be running around doing precisely whatever the fuck she wants and you know what I support her even if she is an asshole her father left her a bunch of trauma and no fucks left to give

- still thrilled about professor x explaining the spider key fuckup to magneto after the fact like ‘magnus you dumb bitch this is why we split up’

- awww kitty has anime and movie posters on her wall and sleeps with a stuffed toy :’)

- remy rogue

🤝

doing completely unnecessary parkour around the brotherhood living room seemingly just for the hell of it... I’m not saying soulmates but fucking soulmates

- fhsadkjlfhsakjldfhsadjkfhsdajkfh just as gambit’s soul-level need to be a little shit survived his bout of mind control, rogue’s deep and urgent desire to kiss gambit full on the mouth survived hers I can’t breathe

she looks so pleased with herself too GOOD FOR YOU GIRL at least get something out of this other than more trauma

also not only the fact that he’s smart enough to figure out what’s going on (though he’s only partially right about who’s behind it. I do so enjoy gambit/mystique deep and sincere antipathy as a constant across all universes tho lmao pure wlw/mlm hostility) but also that he keeps fending her off like he’s not trying to hurt her even though she’s in nigh on unstoppable and invulnerable terminator mode... awww

- gambit having absolutely no patience for wolverine and sabertooth’s bullshit macho-off and consistently being this little biker trio’s one brain cell is adding years to my life with every passing moment

his voice is a little different in these scenes too, a bit softer and less like he’s trying to impress someone, it’s nice

- hank: well I barely recognize any of these (completely made up) ‘ancient egyptian hieroglyphs’ but from what I can make out -- *proceeds to infodump a perfect coherent narrative* fjdhfak

listen this whole thing is such nonsense on so many levels, I’m just turning my brain off so I won’t have to think about it okay, the compulsion to put ancient aliens in egypt haunts us as a culture

- I am CACKLING about gambit in the snow after having to listen to these two chucklefucks ooze testosterone at each other for hours

he started out taking it in good cheer and is now reduced to ‘dieu would both of you just jump off this fUCKING mountain please’

- ah. a little oops-a-daisy there, we seem to have unleashed the apocalypse. please stand by (they really don’t pull their punches with the season cliffhangers in this show haha)

- opening the season on gambit’s merrily grinning face is the easiest way to gain my favour. yes good this season may commence

baby u r my

ANGELLLLLLLL

(he’s so cute here tho haha I think it shows the design isn’t unsalvagable, just get him better hair and stubble more like logan has and you’ve basically got it)

love his exasperated eyeroll when the dude gets spooked (by his eyes? or just the general weirdness?) too

he’s just trying to keep this crazy family of evil mutants together and unmurdered by one another until they’ve managed to avert the end of the world, bless him

- oh NO rogue’s LIP wobbles my hhhhhheart ;____; such a good animation detail to put in

- like... I know kurt is just a sad scared teenager with a lot of shit going on and all the adults are too busy averting the end of the world to help him... but buddy maybe don’t ask your sister to wake her abuser (who forced her to kickstart the end of the world!!!!!) when she feels utterly unsafe even with her statue version around huh

- ...wanda is good and I want only good things for her. and for her dad to be disemboweled for what he did to her both the first time around and when he forced her to forget I mean what

- magneto throwing an epic satelite-slinging tantrum b/c ‘no I am the biggest sexiest strongest mutant of the pack :(’... erik fucking get over yourself

- yes boys absolutely go along with a plan suggested by a dude who looks at you like this

nothing bad can come of this surely asdfkhsa

- lance’s quarter of a braincell always trying to go ‘hey wait, maybe... not do this???’ and it never helps lol

- in this episode: Logan Has A Bad Day

...some very specific bondage positions he’s held in here, I am sure this episode awakened something in someone once upon a time lol

- logan shielding x-23 with his body... im fine it’s okay I’m not crying don’t look at me

- afsdhlsdfjasdlk those sure are some ‘scottish’ accents flsadkjhkdsjahfsd

- scott relieved to finally be able to cede the position of ‘charles xavier’s least favourite son’ to someone else fjsaklfhsajd (poor scott it’s not your fault honey)

supremely cowardly to suggest there is an ex-wife involved rather than charles slutting his way around the british isles back in the day but okay

- kurt with a cold is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. it’s okay kid it’ll get better soon

- ...is there an implication here that professor x is naturally blond. because I am losing my entire little mind about it (i mean he at least has to carry the gene, as does this lady?)

ETA: upon doing some research into this I can indeed confirm that charles xavier does seem to be naturally blond, and after this knowledge I will never be the same

- “listen, dracula” fskdafghasd oh scott you sweet baby angel I love you

- I know jean’s abilities are a bit ‘as strong or as weak as the plot needs right now’ at this point (so you can have the setup for what’s going to happen with them eventually and she’s basically invincible ;____;), and normally I’m cool with it but god I want her to just squash lucas like a little bug

- ewwwww please don’t ever say ‘daddy’ like that again

- ...what the fuck is even going on this episode’s a mess

like okay the split personality thing could be something but the way it’s done... what just happened lol

- MY BOY EVAN IS BACK! with a real glowup too (...though kind of weird how he suddenly looks like a grown man)

- augh scott’s eyes are so pretty oh my god ;__________________________;

- that episode in the first season where evan makes the ‘this is my new family!!’ video is so sad now (also, again, his poor poor parents)

- time for: life affirming road trip with gambit (involuntary) faskljdfhaskjd

stunt therapist remy lebeau

- I mean the way he goes about it is batshit insane and it’s very much secondary to what he’s actually up to but this is the first time rogue’s sounded genuinely hopeful and confident and like herself in like a season <3

- he is disconcertingly pleased about her nearly throwing him off the train, and may I just say I agree it’s so nice to see rogue with her old fire back

- the first time I watched this it was of course dubbed into norwegian, so I had no idea either of these characters were southern lol (though to be fair I probably wouldn’t have had much context for what it meant exactly either, I was like ten at the time and not too interested in america) I seem to dimly remember the norwegian voice actor did a little more of a ‘french’-tinged accent for gambit all over tho haha

- you know what respect where it’s due, pyro dude knows to live his life for the lols and one has to admire his sociopathic dedication to it

interesting that he, too, seems to have fucking hated magneto -- I wonder if the implication here is that he kept all the acolytes in line with blackmail or by keeping something/one hostage? (except sabertooth maybe he’d just have to say ‘you get to fuck shit up and fight wolverine’ and that’d be enough)

- fsdakfhsd he’s so focused on her he doesn’t notice that guy about to hit him fkafhsa

- fuck everything else except whatever the hell these two’ve got going on

- it’s weirdly cathartic to have rogue have a conversation with someone who was not happily adopted as well, I don’t think kurt like. gets it because his parents loved him unconditionally and still do

birds of a feather motherfucker

- fun detail: when the x-men team are on the shore and logan is sniffing around scott is stepping in something and trying to wipe it off his boots in the background

- when he wakes up after passing out from the touch he’s smiling even though she’s standing over him looking like the rage of god outlined by the moon fsajfsa well the last time he passed out like that it was from a kiss, maybe he still has some hopes and dreams in that direction lol (also he recovers from the tumble down the hill first and is checking on her before accidentally brushing her cheek with his hand, which I thought was sweet)

and it was in that moment he knew he fucked up *passes out*

- ‘I can explain’ can u remy. can u

- did it ever even occur to you to just. ask her. to help you. I mean I know it didn’t but like rogue’s always one second away from throwing hands with some bully and is stupidly ride or die, if you’d given her the puppydog eyes she would have crumbled immediately (fair enough I guess this entire episode is telling us he’s not from a background where he has much experience with people just helping him without a price haha)

- his eyes glowing when he’s angry or upset or using a lot of his power is undeniably cool as all hell. I’m just saying it would be Big Sexy if they sort of flickered with light in moments of genuine vulnerability okay

- his coat... his coat is what makes the Silhouette tm and I could not be happier about it

- another parent of the year contestant enters the running lol “hey remy have you ever considered that you’re more of a walking bomb factory than a person? that’s certainly how I think of you hahaha c’mon kid let’s go”

- the running joke of jean luc getting dollar signs in his eyes seeing the other mutant powers and gambit being like ‘nO!!!!’ and pulling him along is amazing haha

- from the way he looks when he touches rogue accidentally and the way he talks to his dad I’m sort of getting the feeling this gambit might actually be a bit younger than he looks?

here too -- idk why but it’s making the ‘wait is he baby???’ alarms go off in my head haha. very early twenties at most.

- and we’ve officially seen him with all the face cards in the heart suit folks! (yes this is the sort of thing my brain notices no I don’t know either)

- poor logan running his ass off this whole episode in a panic and then she’s like ‘nah he’s fine (in several meanings of the word ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ) please put him down’ hfaskfsda

- rogue without makeup!!! her eyes look so naked like this haha <3

- oooh here’s a really interesting thing that tickles my brain a bit in this specific part of the scene where gambit frees his dad -- the part where he’s leaning against the door frame waiting for jean luc, who’s about to suggest using the opportunity to ruin the rival gang from the inside rather than slipping away while they still can

from his expression here he knows what’s about to happen, what jean luc is about to say, and it’s clearly a ‘man who thought he’d lost all hope loses last additional bit of hope he didn’t even know he still had’ sort of situation. he KNOWS what jean luc is like, and it still hurts that he really, honestly can’t give him even this, can’t appreciate that remy’s already done all this shit for him when he extremely didn’t have to, without immediately (no really, it took him less than ten seconds to go there? jesus) demanding more.

remy tells him “I’m just here for you” and jean luc does not understand it. remy seems to be sincere in this motivation -- rogue certainly thinks so, having experienced it second hand and found enough at least emotional merit in it to decide he was worth saving even after all his bullshit (lol a bit of a running theme maybe. I think it’s very telling that after she absorbed mystique she was like ‘what the FUCK you’re a fucking monster’, and after she absorbed gambit she went ‘you did the wrong thing for the right reasons’ after she got over the first wave of outrage)

there’s also what he says as he stands there: “You don’t need me for that”, with the distinct implication that jean luc would only keep him around because he has a use for him and for no other reason -- and then jean luc shamelessly doubles down on that by specifying that it’s not even him he’s got a use for as such, just his powers. that’s some kicking puppies level of deliberately missing the point, it’s almost impressive in how cheerfully mean it is haha

this idea of using people is really important in this episode because remy’s doing basically exactly the same thing to rogue to begin with; it doesn’t really matter to his plan that it’s her that’s with him through this, just what her powers are. (I think it’s p r e t t y solidly implied that he does actually like her a lot outside of that too and maybe there is some comfort in having her around for this, but mostly he’s behind a smokescreen of lies through the whole thing sooo I doubt he’s even aware of it, honestly)

but then it does matter that it’s her when she comes back for him, even after what he did. and unlike jean luc he understands what that means, that she did that for him, and that she didn’t have to. and instead of asking her for more, in return he gives her the thing it’s been established is what he considers the most valuable thing he has; his ‘last card’, the thing he’s credited with keeping him alive many a time, basically. it’s gone from using to mutuality, a tentative place of friendship, and at the end of the day he is a different man than his adoptive father, with a capacity for selflessness and love he lacks. which is of course some of the same stuff going on with rogue and mystique too, except rogue acted from a more fragile and unstable place and did something she regrets, or at least has a LOT of doubts about now, and she found some catharsis in helping someone make a different choice in a similar situation. man there’s some Stuff going on under the surface here haha

(by the way it’s a weirdly... meaningless yet intensely meaningful thing, the gifting of a symbol? of an idea? but he’s putting something very crucial of himself into her hands, is the subtext, and he expects her to understand, which she also does seem to do. at the beginning of the episode he’s proving that he’s seen something true about her -- “You’re such an unhappy girl”, knowing where she comes from, the way she’s mourning her lost confidence and autonomy with her abilities -- and here she’s proving she’s seen something true about him. :’) I wish this show had gone on long enough for this dynamic to progress, it’s really interesting and touching)

- gambit dragging himself up onto dry land seeing someone approaching (to help?!): :D

gambit seeing that it’s logan and the look on his face: D:

- rogue using her powers so confidently and fearlessly in this episode tho!!!!

- *me crying* and then her FAMBILY comes to take her home and he says he’s looking out for her too and kurt still loves her even though they’re having a conflict thing between them and she’s finally able to use her powers without so much fear again and --

- ...did I just watch some baby lesbian love at first sight shit right now???

- okay last two episodes let’s go

- HELL YEAH STORM (I love that she’s like ‘don’t give me a dumb order like that and I won’t have to disobey it’ too sdfjsaj) her voice has such command I’m usually very much not the ‘step on me’ type butttt

- y’know I feel like apocalypse’s main fault across all versions I’ve seen of him is that he’s like an immortal superpowered god king and he’s not even sexy. like at least make him hot if he’s going to be insufferable in every other way

- also callout post for apocalypse: one time he made gambit into the Horseman of Death... and didn’t even make him sexy!!! you were handed remy lebeau, supreme bi disaster slut of the x men universe, and you couldn’t even make his brainwashed superpowered evil side hot?? a beautiful stubbled twunk with glowing red eyes and extremely charming :> face practically delivers himself into your hands and you do that to him???? I mean I’m sure apocalypse did some other bad stuff too but that was the worst one

(comics are so dumb y’all)

- having to watch jean cry is emotional terrorism!! ;___; she has such older sister/mom energy, whenever she gets sad and helpless it hurts

- oh, OH so PROFESSOR X you’ll make into a hunk and ~*strategically*~ rip his clothes to show off a nipple and a flawless pec in a way that makes me extremely uncomfortable because he’s like The Dad??? apocalypse you are rotten to the core this is unforgivable

- so wait wanda never actually gets her real memories back. what the FuCk I hope that was a dropped storyline because they ended the show tragically prematurely rather than like. the plan

- why is spyke calling storm ‘storm’ show that’s his auntie o!! >:(

- as a society we need to acknowledge that apocalypse looks like a fucking clown

- ooooh yeah I have been thinking that this show’s greatest visual weakness so far has been not having a visual way to show telepathy/battles of the minds, but this is a pretty cool way to do it! better late than never

- I’m so happy rogue gets to end this herself, since she was forced into starting it against her will, it’s just nice and neat storytelling

- YEAH FUCKING TELL HER KURT AND ROGUE I AM SO PROUD OF YOU and she has the temerity to look pissed off oh my god

the only valid thing mystique has done in her entire life is be in love with destiny. literally everything else she gets up to is a travesty. like I know objectively she’s hot but my loathing for her stops me from even appreciating it. I do enjoy loathing her tho so please don’t change her haha

(a bit odd to have kurt’s attitude to her swing so much but I’m just going to assume he and rogue had a good long conversation after ‘cajun spice’ and that he understands what’s going on better now)

- this last part is such a cruel tease faskdfhsdaj ‘here are all the cool-ass things we had planned. sucks you never get to see it huh’ im devastated

- magneto without his helmet and playing charmingly with children like charles is going ‘well at least I saved my marriage finally’ fsadkhfjsd (honestly tho I would be super interested in seeing how they’d redeem this magneto because he’s been a real bitch the whole time lol)

there’s an interesting thing here where magneto looks down at wanda as the last thing he does on screen before this epilogue part (yeah I hope it fucking haunts you forever what you did to her erik you absolute piece of hot garbage) and the last thing charles does is look at jean b/c he knows what’s going to happen to her and it breaks his heart... Dramatic Parallells

- just the hint of jean as the phoenix has me in full D:D:D: mode tho maybe I wouldn’t have survived it

- gambit in the last groupshot with his arm around rogue ;^) I mean I’m sure they’re headed for some turns and roundabouts along the way but what’s that thing she says as her wedding vow, that she’ll always find her way back? anyway that got me in my heart

- man I really wish this show had been given more seasons, we were barely even getting warmed up here :’(

#x men evolution #x men #gambit #rogue x gambit #aaah this is like therapy for me... just dumping all my emotions into a tumblr post and then let them go into the ether #I am now wondering if I'm desperate enough to go all the way back to the x-men animated series (which I've never seen before!)#like am I willing to go there for more Contente. time will tell I suppose #happy tag #...this is very long #MAN why can't I channel this dumbass energy into fiction writing I'd get so much DONE

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saturnaftertaste · 3 years ago

Note

I would love to hear your thoughts on YJS3

sure! fair warning, though, I'm a ranty person by nature so this might end up being a bit long. sorry in advance ♡

anyway! things I liked:

the humor: s3 was pretty funny lmao, theres that whole collection of outta pocket scenes from throughout the season that I find hilarious each time + the humor was a little more dirty which is nice bc the audience has also grown up from the kids they might've been when they watched it on CN

dickbabs!: I'm not a huge fan of dickbabs, I prefer dickkory (no hate to dickbabs stans btw I just vibe more with dickkory) but this dynamic between the two of them was so sweet and well-balanced I couldnt help but squeal everytime they were on-screen

Clark and Conner getting along: them calling each other brothers was so CUTE I canttt

FORAGER: an absolute legend 10/10 freaking love him

That Episode With The Hallucination: mmmmmmm I miss wally. SO MUCH. and the og 6 I was Super Mad about the first timeskip so it was nice to see them all together again🥰

yeah that's about it for things I liked lmao. now time for the Much Longer list of Things I Hated:

HALO: young justice the bar was so fucking low how are you still successfully doing the limbo what the fuck. you take a muslim immigrant in what is VERY CLEARLY a hijab and 1. infantilize her to an exceptionally uncomfortable degree (I KNOW SHE WAS THE MOTHERBOX, I DONT CARE) to the point where she resembles a five-year-old with every sentence she speaks or action she takes 2. you made a visibly muslim girl claim that she's actually no longer muslim, she's just wearing the hijab as some kind of security blanket???? I'm sorry??? what the fuck were you aiming for here exactly 3. why did you have to name her violet harper. what. 4. really?? the immediate romance with brion? What the shit was up with that...you make her Muslim in some aspects like victor not seeing her hair when she brushes it but her LITERALLY making out with brion like I'm sorry what the fuck are you doing??? you had one muslim character and you fucked up so bad holy shit...like...it could've been simple as hell, man, but no...Big Yikes.

M'gann: I've said this before but I really feel like once they introduced artemis m'gann immediately became a side character whose only job is to be villainised again and again even though it doesn't really vibe with her character. Secret teams?? Lying to Conner??? This isn't s3 but that whole thing with their breakup in s2...what the shit are they doing to M'gann, man. I loved her so much in s1, she's literally trying her best after having gone through so much and it's never fully explored...like we get half explanations every season but we're never shown half the shit that we were given for artemis. And by making her the Uncool Girlfriend at points it just looks like they're trying make her easy to hate like what the fuck. no. stop it

The Plot: too overcomplicated, too many characters. It's only season three, why are you introducing Apokolips already. Why are there so many characters?? what's with all the subplots yall were switching location cards every five minutes. And it's so convoluted...like...what was going on with Beast Boy and the monkey-god-doom-patrol-exposition stuff? I can't even remember if there were two granny goodnesses or just the one. All of those meta kids left over from the last season are a cute cast but like...I was so bored??? we know you can do well-written self-contained storylines a la s1, so hop to it, yeah?

THE ANIMATION: ok ok ok so. season 1 and two (one especially) had a very distinct feeling to them and that feeling was very late-2000s Cartoon Network Action Show - the base model for the males and females is the same (like Ben 10 Alien Force) the colors were not dynamic (stayed the same no matter the lighting, lots of cel shading, and generally were realistically colored in the sense that suspension of disbelief was not entirely necessary) CHEEKBONES, gritty textures and purple skies (Batman the Brave and the Bold). overall theres a certain Tone to the earlier seasons that spoke a lot to the animation capabilities of the studios at the time, as well as the general feel of the show. however, season three was a MAJOR downgrade in terms of animation. they made it both simpler and more complicated - they started using their DCAMU animation style which while it does give muscles to the women, adds too many unneeded shadows and a strange stiffness and dullness to every character. There are now extra lines and uncessesary shadows on the face of every character, and their eyes and facial features are almost identical. There's also less highlights, and the hairstyles are way too overcomplicated now to be appealing (see mgann and dick) - the hair is unspeakably dull and and the skin tones and hair colors are painful on the eyes. This isn't even taking into account the shitty backgrounds they've started using (AHEM AHEM ARTEMIS'S KITCHEN) because while the earlier seasons may have had unappealing, mostly empty settings, the characters still fit in to the scene, unlike now.

the lack of sisterhood????: apparently, only artemis goes to see zatanna for her Dr. Fate appointments. Apparently, M'gann barely talks to Artemis after the very tragic apparent death of Wally. the two of them, dare I say even the THREE of them, should be close as hell considering they spent their early years super-heroing together on a team full of boys. M'gann LITERALLY called Artemis her sister in the SAME EPISODE she was introduced, and neither of them had any real girlfriends other than each other at this point. M'gann who fell apart so hard Artemis died in her head that she almost killed them all in her grief. Like. You're telling me, you're SHOWING me that these two aren't each other's support system? Where is the sisterhood, bitch????

Lastly: the costume design. I understand that they're constrained by the need to make it simple enough to animate, but COME ON. if you're going to borrow Diana's DCAMU/JL: War costume, at least keep the metal silver. What the fuck is that green-gold. And Tigress? god DAMN that mask is ugly. Cassie looks like she robbed a goddamn supermarket discount clothing aisle for her outfit. Why is bart's outfit Like That it's so ugly it makes me want to cry. @ young justice costume designers Please Rethink Your Decisions

that's about all I can think of right now. it got REALLY negative whoops, but theres just so much I didn't like about this season :/ hopefully the next one will better ;-;

#thanks for the ask!#dc #dawn rants #young justice #mgann morzz #artemis crock #violet harper #opinions

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luxekook · 5 years ago

Text

in too deep ☼ knj

☼ dedication: this fic is a bday present for the loml tay aka tay bay bay aka @interludemoonchild!!!! luv u long time <33 (sorry this isn’t about hobi skksksks)

☼ pairing: marine biologist namjoon x assistant reader

☼ genre: idiots to lovers, fluff, angst, crack

☼ summary: you had always grown up being told tales of terrible jobs with tyrannical bosses. but now, you’re left to wonder why you hadn’t heard more tragic stories of all-too-wonderful jobs with all-too-beautiful bosses... did falling for your boss only lead to heartbreak and a two weeks’ notice? or could it yield the possibility of romance?

☼ word count: 3.1k

☼ warnings: pg15, cursing, chaotic energy, pining, miscommunication, mentions of quitting, lots of sea nerd stuff, namjoon is smart af but an idiot in love, the reader isn’t any better, crabby bois, arguments, completely cheesy fluff, short make out sesh, mention of sex

☼ banner creator: heathy bby @shadowsremedy

☼ beta reader: the amazing and astoundingly talented phia @meowxyoong

“Kim Namjoon!” You cry, swatting the blue-clawed crab away from your feet with a broom, “What did I tell you about bringing your goddamn crustaceans into the office?”

The man in question hustles out of his office looking disheveled, “You’ve seen Carl?” He sinks right down to his hands and knees to peer under your desk. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, little buddy!”

You stare disappointedly as your boss picks up ‘Carl’ from his hiding place and cradles him to his chest. “Namjoon,” You sigh exasperatedly, folding your arms.

He looks up at you and blushes, “Sorry, Star. I just feel so bad leaving them downstairs at the lab. It’s so lonely and dark down there.”

While your stomach flips at the mention of his nickname for you, your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “Well, why don’t you just stay down there with them?”

“Because you’re up here…” He mumbles something incoherent.

“What?” You lean forwards, your ears straining to catch the garbled syllables.

Namjoon clears his throat, looking everywhere but at you, “Because it’s nicer up here.”

“Don’t tell your investors that,” You laugh, thinking of all the fancy and shiny equipment housed in the aquatics lab a few floors below. Working for a top-tier marine biologist sure had its perks - namely the state of the art kitchen with a full espresso bar.

“Star, I would never!” He looks affronted by the mere mention of such a thing. “Now, apologize to Carl for scaring him.”

You scoff, but just one glance into Namjoon’s sparkling brown eyes makes you crumble instantly. “Fine,” You begrudgingly shoot the crab a look, “Sorry, Carl.”

“See, Carl?” Namjoon croons, “She’s sorry!” As he turns back to you, you can immediately tell he is about to launch into Marine Biologist Mode™.

“Carl is a blue crab - a Callinectes sapidus, to be precise. That scientific name literally means ‘savory beautiful swimmer’.”

“Savory, huh?” You quip, relishing in the scandalized look Namjoon shoots you.

“Don’t listen to her, Carl,” He whispers, stroking a finger gently down the crab’s shell. “Now, where was I? Ah, yes… He’s named for his pretty sapphire-tinted claws, and he’s one of the most harvested species of his kind. So, don’t even think about it.”

You burst out laughing as he eyes you, “Okay, Joon, I’ll leave my pot of boiling water at home.”

Namjoon splutters out a choked laugh, looking at you like you are the most exasperating thing he’s ever come across. And, you probably are.

When you came to work for the distinguished marine biologist four months ago, you found him literally buried beneath piles of research papers, files, and National Geographic magazines. Apparently, he had tripped into his filing cabinet and everything had fallen off of the shelves onto him. The man had been a right mess. It was no wonder he had put an ad out in search of an assistant.

In your new role, you slowly but surely introduced some structure and organization into Namjoon’s life as best you could. The first thing you did was update his office. The man still had an honest to god lava lamp on his desk. You were still baffled at how he had managed not to break the fixture before your arrival.

Swiftly following the disposal of the cursed lava lamp, you ordered new file cabinets - and had them nailed to the wall. Virtually, you did even more. You restructured his online platforms and updated his schedule to include more than just scattered notes like “Meeting at 10AM, i think? Or was it 10PM?”

To his credit, Namjoon adhered to most of your suggestions and changes, but apparently he still refused to grasp the ‘no creatures in the office’ rule.

Overall, Namjoon was a great boss - kind, understanding, sweet, and a tad eccentric. His love for all things sea-related shone through the gentle way he handled his specimens, the passionate tone of voice he used while speaking on any related topic, and the stars in his eyes at the mere mention of discovering a new species.

It had been all too easy to become infatuated with him. Especially when he called you “Star” and left you to interpret the meaning on your own.

You remember the exact moment that you fell in love with him so vividly. It had been last month, just three months into working for him. Namjoon had been going off about fucking sand of all things.

“…Sand speaks of history, of science, of travels. Each grain of sand holds thousands upon thousands of years of movement, of erosion. For example, the beach outside of this building is tan because of the iron oxide tinting the quartz and the feldspar to a light brown color. But, there are other beaches that are black, white and even pink in color! It’s fascinating! And to quote the goddess of marine biology Rachel Carson: "In every curving beach, in every grain of sand, there is a story of the Earth…”

Yeah, you are head over heels for your boss. And that’s why you needed to quit.

The end of the workday arrives too quickly - a common theme it seems when you love what you do and who you work for. Namjoon walks beside you down to the parking lot. You sneak a glance at his face and note that he seems deep in thought.

Your mind slips to the image of you and Namjoon going home together to a shared house overrun with fish tanks and models of sharks. It’s all too easy to picture, and all too painful to acknowledge the impossibility.

“Star,” Namjoon’s voice jolts you from your fantasy. You blink up at him, realizing you’re both stopped beside your adjacent cars. Namjoon smiles at you, “I’ll see you tomorrow? It’ll be Friday, finally...”

It seems like he wants to say more but stops himself for some reason. You pause, waiting for him to continue, but he just blushes and brings a hand to the back of his neck bashfully.

“Yeah, Friday,” Your tone is less enthusiastic. You planned to hand in your two weeks’ notice tomorrow. It’s a complete strategy on your part so that you can have the whole weekend to cry and shove at least one gallon of ice cream down your throat.

You wave goodbye to each other and enter your respective cars. You watch Namjoon pull out of the parking lot before you and pause to rest your forehead on your steering wheel. You were so screwed.

Twenty-four exhausting hours later, you find yourself with your fist poised over Namjoon’s wooden office door. Are you actually doing this? Are you really going to quit the only job you’d ever loved?

Yes, you are. You love Namjoon too much to stay here surrounded by his charisma and his beauty. You love him too much to try to complicate his workspace, his sacred ground. You love him too much to ask him to blur the lines of colleague and lover.

You need to leave - for his sake and for yours. It isn’t like he still needs you. He has been following your routine with vigor and always keeps his office organized now. Your tasks have been dwindling for weeks.

It’s time to move on. God, even the tension today had been off the charts with you and Namjoon skirting around each other like you were both walking on eggshells. Clearly, he is also feeling like you are in the way.

With that in mind, you straighten your shoulders and finally knock on the door.

Your ears strain for any sign of an answer. Your breath catches in your throat as you try to sustain the meager amount of courage you had mustered up inside you. Twisting open the handle, you push the door open and are immediately met with an empty office. Damn, he must be downstairs.

You chuckle at the sheer idiocy of your panicked state over knocking on an empty office door.

This is perfect anyways. You can hand Namjoon your two weeks’ and then evacuate the building in one sweep. Shutting down your computer and grabbing your things, you trudge out of the room and towards the stairs.

The journey downwards seems akin to walking the plank as you take each step slowly, dreading the inevitable.

Ciara has it all wrong: you do not love it when you One, Two Step.

The entrance to the lab looms overhead. The steel double doors look more like the gateway to hell rather than a nice entrance to a marine facility. You don’t break your stride as you march through the doors. If you had, you might not have kept going.

The familiar light humming of the tank filters meets your ears as you peer around the rows of shelves containing colorful fish and scuttling critters.

“Joon?” You call, the nickname slipping past your lips before you can stop it.

“Back here, Star!” His answer sounds from the very back of the lab. Of course, that’s where the crabs are housed.

You make your way past the tanks of clownfish and the pools of stingrays to where Namjoon sits hunched over the shallow tank containing four green-tinted crabs.

“That’s it, Nala.” Namjoon croons as the smallest of the four crabs swims around the tank, “You show your brothers how fast you are.”

“Talking to your subjects again, boss?” You can’t help but tease the man you've grown to love as he fawns over his work.

Namjoon blushes slightly and nods, pushing his glasses up to rest on the bridge of his nose, “Studies have shown that it helps them develop.”

“I thought that was humans?” You say, shifting your weight back and forth. The letter in your hand seems to burn more each second you hold onto it. You couldn't take it anymore.

As Namjoon opens his mouth to reply, you thrust the letter into his chest and say, “Never mind. This is for you. Please read it later.”

With that, you fast-walk your way back to the entrance of the lab. The sound of the envelope tearing open only forces you faster. Fuck, it had been idiotic of you to assume that he would actually listen to you and open it later. Namjoon is as impatient as they come. Of course he wouldn't wait.

“Star!” His strangled call startles you, “What is this?”

“We can talk about it on Monday!” You reply, somehow already close to tears. Why is this godforsaken lab so big? You pace down the aisles of tanks and breathe a sigh of relief as the exit comes into view.

Then, Namjoon comes barreling around the corner, cutting off your escape. The man looks baffled as he clutches your written resignation in his hands. His chest heaves as he holds the torn pages out towards you, “What. Is. This. Star?”

You bristle. I guess we’re doing this now, you thought. Stiffening your shoulders, you muster all the false bravado you can manage, “It’s my two weeks’ notice, Namjoon. I’m sure a smart guy like you can read.”

“Okay, allow me to rephrase,” Namjoon stalks towards you, tossing the crumpled letter over his shoulder. “Why did you give me this?”

“The letter explains everything,” Your eyes dart around, both in search of a viable escape and in avoidance of his intensity.

“Sure it does,” He scoffs, his eyes blazing with disbelief. “I want to hear it from you.”

Your back hits the cool glass of the tank behind you. You’re trapped between the contrasting temperatures of the water and Namjoon’s body.

“Joon,” Your voice shakes, “You don’t need me anymore. You’ve done everything I've asked of you and then some. You’re organized. You’re on time. You’re put together. I barely have enough tasks now to fill a day, let alone a week. It’s time to move on.”

“Time to move on?” Namjoon echoes before barking out a humorless laugh, “I don’t need you anymore? That’s really what you think, Star?”

“Don’t call me that.” The nickname snufs out any trace of fight left inside you, and you plead, “Just let me go, Joon.”

“Never,” He growls.

“I don’t understand what you’re not getting,” You sigh, exasperated and drained, “You’ve surpassed my expectations and erased the need for my position. I think the saying ‘the student has become the master’ applies here.”

Namjoon gapes at you before he snaps, “You’re the one who’s not getting it! Have you ever considered that the student might just be in love with the teacher?”

Joon rakes a hand through his hair as you become the one to gape open mouthed at the frustrated man.

He continues, “I wake up earlier every damn day because I can’t wait to see you at work. I organize all of my things because I just want to see you smile at me when you notice. I spend an hour each night picking out what to wear the next day because I want to impress you… Don’t you see? Everything I do is for you, is because of you. I want to be the best version of myself for you.”

Your mind struggles to compute the seemingly impossible notion that the object of your affections returns your love. “Did you,” You gasp out, “Just say that you loved me?”

“Yes, you complete jellyfish! I love you. I am in love with you! And it’s not like it’s not obvious! I call you ‘Star’ because you are my starfish, my sea star. You are the one who keeps the balance to my ecosystem of chaos. You are the key species that keeps everything afloat.”

“And you thought that was obvious?” You yell back at him, “How on earth would I immediately have known the intense analysis behind your nickname for me, Namjoon the science buffoon?” You huff, scrambling to process the amount of information that had just been thrown at you.

He needed you?

He loved you back?

He nicknamed you after a fucking marine invertebrate?!

Namjoon blinks in surprise, “Did you just insult me with a Bill Nye pun?” You don’t deign to give him a response. Namjoon chuckles before grinning sheepishly, “Okay, fine. You make a good point.”

“I know I do,” You pout. “You can’t just spring this on me, Joon. Why haven't you told me this before?”

“Because I was nervous that you would leave me, that you wouldn't return my feelings. Obviously, the first point is moot. What about the second?”

“You’re asking if I love you back?” Your body sags against the tank behind you, “How could I not, you crab-loving, walking mess of a—”

Namjoon captures your mouth with his, kissing you with fervor. His hands wind their way up to cradle your face between them like you are the most precious thing to him.

Pulling back slightly, Namjoon rasps out, “So, you’ll stay?”

“Hm, I don’t know,” You crack a wry smile, “What’s in it for me?”

“Well, let me show you,” Namjoon replies before whipping his shirt off. You gape open mouthed at the expanse of beautiful tan skin in front of you.

Was that a hint of a tattoo swirling over his left shoulder?

He reaches down to tug at the hem of your dress, insinuating he wants it off. A nice concept in theory; however, with one look around at your surroundings, you slap his hand away. “Namjoon! Not in front of the fish!”

“But, Star, these aren’t fish! These are squid, and they are classed as cephalopods—”

You put a hand over his mouth, “Allow me to clarify: I will only fuck in a creature-free zone.”

Namjoon murmurs something beneath your palm. You give him a warning look before removing your hand. He immediately repeats himself, “My office?”

Your eyes narrow, “I know for a fact you have at least three crabs in there.”

Namjoon pauses, looking suspiciously shifty, “There are only seven…”

You wait for it.

“...teen.” He finishes.

“Kim Namjoon!”

Two Years Later

The short walk down the aisle ends too quickly as you find yourself standing in front of a teary-eyed Namjoon. Five of his friends stand behind him in a row, while the sixth stands proudly as the officiant.

They really are out here looking like a whole boy band, you muse. But, you only have eyes for their leader.

Namjoon stands before you, all tall and handsome in his tux; and as Officiant Jin™ begins the ceremony, you can't help but wonder how you got so lucky.

Finally, the ring exchange is introduced dramatically by Seokjin who spouts something about circles and never ending love. “Let us now have the rings brought forward and presented by the ring-bearer!” He booms, raising his arms up like he is summoning a great force.

Ring-bearer? You rake your mind for a prior mention of a ring-bearer… You thought Yoongi as the best man would have the rings.

Suddenly, Namjoon produces a silver whistle from his pocket and blows it once. You stare at your soon-to-be husband like he has sprouted another head.

And then you hear it: the sound of legs and claws scuttling across the floor towards the altar.

“Tell me that is not what I think it is,” You whisper-yell over to Namjoon, who looks way too pleased for your liking.

Your fears and exasperations come true as Namjoon swoops down to pick up Carl who has two shiny rings tied to his shell with a ribbon.

“Oh, Kim Namjoon,” You sigh as you watch him remove the rings from Carl and hand the crab off to a disgruntled Taehyung, “What am I going to do with you?”

“You’re going to marry me,” Namjoon grins.

And marry him you did.

a/n: jellyfish have no brains, lolz. idk why making joon call the reader a jellyfish made me crack tf up but IT DID.

#bangtanhq #ficswithluv #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #hyunglinenetwork #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #btsnoonanet #hyungsmutsociety #maknaesmutsociety #bangtanscenery #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader #knj x reader #bts #namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #happy bday tay!!!!!

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tobin-heaths · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t hide (NSFW)

request: R has a huge crush on Hope, one where she gets flustered and nervous around the goalie, then one night after a game the team goes out to a bar, and Hope corners R in the bathroom to confront her about the way she acts around her

pairing: Hope Solo x Reader

words: 1394

You were mad, so very mad and nervous you were afraid you'd sweat a waterfall. Do you know that feeling when you have a crush on someone? So big you can't stand to be near said person because they make you nervous.

And you can't ever talk to them without stuttering, messing up or blushing. You hated it, why did you have to make everything so damn complicated for yourself?

Hope was a role model for you. You remembered all the times you watched her on TV when you weren't a part of this team yet. Then you got to meet her and it was a hopeless cause, somehow still crushing big times on her, even a year and half later.

So here you were, sitting inside the bus that would drop you off at a bar the whole team had agreed to visit for the night. Pinoe and Ash had insisted you sat right there at the window, not telling you a thing on who would be sitting next to you.

As soon as you smelled Hope's perfume and saw her dropping down next to you with the kindest smile one could muster, you turned around and glared at your friends.

Panic then settled upon you. Big, scary gay panic. How would you know what to do? You can't even properly talk to her without making a fool of yourself. You were sure Hope was actually thinking something was wrong with you. This was all their fault.

It didn't help that the goalkeeper looked absolutely ravishing in her black jeans and loose blouse. You were dying to get a closer look beneath those clothes though.

Seeing her big strong, veiny goalkeeper hands all close had you feeling some type of way. You had to leave this bus now before it was too late. Unfortunately for you, Hope was blocking your only way out. Your body was screaming for an escape or somebody to come rescue you.

Somehow this felt planned to you, like the whole team knew about your situation but Hope, the poor woman completely oblivious to what was actually going on here.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" Her sweet and confident voice ripped you away from your deep thoughts and you slowly turned your head to look at her, panic visible in your eyes.

"I'm fine, how are you?" Trying your hardest to not blush you failed miserably, at least you got that sentence out without messing up.

Hope chuckled at you, clearly amused by this whole situation. "I'm great, thank you for asking, sweetheart."

Your insides exploded, your stomach filling with butterflies to the point you almost felt sick. You could hear your friends giggling all around you.

Luckily the ride was short and sooner than later Hope stood up to get out of the bus and left you behind. "I'll fucking kill both of you." You hissed and pointed at your best friends as you left your seat on shaky legs.

Your anger flew away as soon as your lips touched a glass filled with your favorite drink, that's exactly what you needed, enough alcohol to losen up your shy tongue. Maybe then you could have a decent conversation with her for longer than just two minutes.

"I just talked to Hope, she wanted to know why you're acting so strange. I told her." Pinoe walked up to you, a drink in her hand as well, a smug grin on her face.

"You did what? Megan, are you fucking kidding me? I can't believe you would–"

"Quick, she's coming your way." She stated and your eyes widened when you spotted Hope walking straight towards you, looking slightly irritated and amused at the same time.

"Fuck." You cursed under your breath, closed your eyes and searched for an escape route.

"Y/N. I think we need to talk." Coming to a halt in front of you she grabbed your elbow and wanted to drag you someplace quiet.

"No! Wait– I mean no, I think I need to use the bathroom!" Freeing yourself you almost tumbled to the floor as a stronger wave of feeling drunk decided to kick in right there.

“She’ll never make it.” Pinoe joked.

You tried to hurry away from her as fast as you could to make it into the bathroom in one piece. It wasn't easy but you managed to make it without bumping into either of your teammates and especially not Hope.

It was a big bathroom, fairly clean for once and only a handful of people actually using it when you walked in. You placed your drink onto the counter and took a deep breath in, trying to calm your raging nerves.

"There you are." Hope barged in and in two short strides grabbed your shirt to pull you away from the sink. You stood no ground against her strength as she pushed you against the tiled wall, not caring about the rest of the strangers in here with you.

“This time you will stay and we will have a talk. I won't ask nicely another time. So tell me why you’re acting like you’re scared of me. Do you think I don’t notice the way you blush and get nervous around me?" You gulped in fear.

Her tall body stood so close it was almost touching yours while one of her hands rested next to your head, effectively trapping you and goddamn, you'd be lying if you'd say this wasn't turning you on.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You don't? Let me remind you then."

Soft lips mixed with the taste of alcohol met your lips in a heated kiss, leaving no room for imagination; this was definitely not what you expected but you wouldn’t complain either.

This was all you ever wanted.

You tried to deepen the kiss, tried to touch her, grab her waist and pull her against your aroused body but she wouldn't let you and pinned your hands above your head. You moaned into the kiss.

"You should've told me earlier." The goalkeeper said, licking her lips as she leaned back to observe you. "We could've done that two weeks ago already. You can thank Pinoe for this." And crossed her arms.

Meanwhile the last person exited the bathroom and you were left alone in there with the woman of your dreams.

Your mouth opened but nothing came out, your mind was busy imagining other things. Just as the heat in between your legs seemed to have its own thoughts. Your panties must be wetter than wet. If Hope was one thing, it would definitely be intimating and a big tease and that turned you on to the max.

"I know I should've said something but I was too shy, too afraid of the consequences. Can't believe I have to thank Pinoe for this." You rolled your eyes as you imagined that. It would only push her smug ego.

"But what now? Like, what are we?" You questioned unsure of yourself.

"Shh. For now, less talking and more moaning my name."

She was back on you in an instant, trapping both your hands over your head with one of hers while the other began to open your jeans.

"Wait– people could walk in at any moment. If they catch us– ohh fuck." You moaned when her fingers pushed into your jeans and made contact with the wet fabric of your panties.

"Do you know what I think? I think that this excites you, getting fingered against a public bathroom wall while someone could walk in at any moment and catch us with my hand down your panties, baby."

"Oh god, please." You begged, head thrown back and eyes closed. Hope leaned in and began kissing your neck, searching for the place that would drive you crazy.

Her fingers brushed your panties to the side and searched for your clit. She smirked when she heard your high pitched moan and felt your hips bucking towards her hand.

"Let go for me baby, I'll make you feel good."

And you did let go, let yourself fall into her arms when two of her fingers pushed into your soaked heat. She was ruthless as she set a harsh and fast pace to fuck you against the wall, your legs starting to feel like jelly.

"Moan my name, baby."

#hope solo imagines #uswnt imagines #hope solo #uswnt

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laurawritesandgames · 4 years ago

Text

Title: The Children We Never Had

Fandom: Beetlejuice (Musical)

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Beetlejuice/Barbara/Adam

Prompt: Hurt/Comfort

Content Warning: References to miscarriages and abortion

Summary: As Delia and Charles prepare to start their family together, Barbara reflects on her chance to have her own children. What once seemed so simple can become much more complicated when you’re a ghost....

Delia and Charles had just completed the first round of IVF treatments. Delia was fanatic about getting all toxins out of the house, so one Saturday the Maitlands, Beetlejuice and Lydia were helping Delia get rid of any plastic containers in the kitchen, to be replaced with glass containers.

“Why is there so much Tupperware?” Delia exclaimed.

“One of Mom’s friends sold Tupperware, and we had a few parties,” Lydia said. “Mom was sick for years. If she’d been able to keep up with the science, I doubt she would’ve kept them. She was nuts about the environment.” Lydia frowned thoughtfully. “Say, Delia, what exactly are your thoughts on vaccines?”

Barbara and Adam shared a look. They knew from the Maitland-Deetz’s biweekly parenting meetings that Delia had anti-vaxxer tendencies. She was, at least, open to a respectful discussion about vaccines. Give Charles a few conversations and she’d probably give in to science and reason—the newlyweds were crazy for each other.

Not that Lydia had any of that context.

“I’m just not convinced vaccines are necessary. I have some very interesting websites I can show you later, Lydia. There’s a lot of doubt about the so-called ‘science’ that Big Pharma doesn’t want you to see.”

Lydia’s lip curled in the disgust.

“Are you an idiot?!” Beetlejuice said. “I lived in a world without vaccines. It was shit!”

“I just don’t know if I’m willing to take that risk,” Delia said, with her polite, argument-deflecting smile. Adam’s parents had been masters at avoiding conflict, so Barbara knew what would happen next. She’d say something light or silly and try to get everyone focused on the kitchen again.

“I should draw a door and bring you to the Netherworld, Delia. Give you a tour of Diaper Town so you can see all the dead babies that’re there from before childhood vaccines were a thing.”

“Diaper Town?” Lydia asked.

“Eh, that’s not the real name—just what we called it. Where the dead babies go. Ugh! I had a shift in Diaper Town for a few decades. It was the worst.”

“I imagine they look like they did when they died,” Lydia said, thoughtfully.

“And they never age! That’s the only reason people hang around babies—because they eventually become not-babies.”

“What about miscarriages? Mom had a few before me. Is there going to be a clump of Deetz cells in the Netherworld?”

Barbara reached out for Adam’s hand and found it within seconds. (He’d been across the room a second ago. He must have teleported.) She clenched it. Hard.

Beetlejuice didn’t notice.

As a ghost, you were always cold. Barbara couldn’t get colder. She also couldn’t swallow to try to wet a dry mouth. Her hands wouldn’t grow cold and prickly with shock. Her emotions were completely disconnected from bodily sensations. She could feel Adam behind her and leaned back into him slightly. Not that he made her feel warmer. Nothing ever would.

If she’d been alive, she might’ve looked like Delia: her face pale as she forced a too-wide smile onto her face. “Let’s all talk about something else, shall we? I don’t want any bad vibes.” Her hand rested on her stomach. During one of their parenting meetings, she’d mentioned she only had a few eggs left. “Not—not right now.”

Lydia glared at her. “Seriously? Hearing about a dead woman’s fertility issues isn’t going to hurt your fetus.”

“The Deetus,” Beetlejuice added. “Deetz fetus. Get it?”

Lydia ignored him. “Bad vibes aren’t a thing!”

“We’ll agree to disagree on that one.” Delia hurried out of the kitchen. “Would anyone mind a smudging ceremony? Just to clear the air and usher in tranquility?”

Lydia followed with a shriek of rage. “’Smudging ceremony’? Are you from an Indigenous tribe, Delia? Because if you’re not, that’s major cultural appropriation!”

“Ooo, cultural appropriation! I know that one!” Beetlejuice said, delighted. When he’d first come back from the Netherworld, the Maitlands had held a few sensitivity seminars for him so he could stop getting into arguments with Lydia. Beetlejuice’s views were a weird mix of surprisingly progressive and incredibly archaic. “It’s a culture, not a costume!” He floated over to Barbara and Adam. “Did I do that right? Do I get a kiss?”

It took a lot of effort to focus on Beetlejuice right now. “Sorry,” Barbara said. “We’re not going to reward you for being a decent person. But thank you for trying.”

Beetlejuice huffed in disappointment.

Adam cleared his throat. Barbara glanced at him. Adam tilted his head slightly at Beetlejuice, raising his eyebrows questioningly. He was asking her for permission to tell Beetlejuice. After a moment’s thought, Barbara nodded. Beetlejuice liked to keep things light, but he was their boyfriend, after all. He should learn a bit more about Barbara and Adam.

“What happens to children who died before they were born?” Adam asked quietly.

Beetlejuice shrugged. “I dunno. I was born dead in one of the original versions of the musical, but it ain’t canon. There aren’t any fetuses floating around the Netherworld. Maybe they go someplace else?” He shrugged, spreading his hands. “I got nothing.”

Out of habit (not because she actually needed to breathe), Barbara sighed in relief. Thank God, was her first thought, despite having a pretty good idea that God didn’t exist. She let of of Adam’s hand, giving him a small smile.

“Why do you wanna know?” Beetlejuice asked.

Barbara shared another look with Adam before saying, “When I was 22, I got pregnant.” She cleared her throat. She hadn’t talked about this in years.

Beetlejuice didn’t like silences. Immediately, he said, “Quit pulling my leg. If you were pregnant, then where’s your—”

It took a few moments, but his eyes finally widened and his jaw dropped. “Oh. Ohhhh. I didn’t think…” His hands began flapping, then running up and down his sleeves and fiddling with his cuffs. “So we’re bringing in some of the movie backstory. Okay. Okay. Sure.”

“The what?” Adam asked.

“Nevermind. So you guys had a miscarriage.”

“An abortion, actually,” Barbara said.

Beetlejuice stopped bobbing faintly, freezing in mid-air. His voice rose in pitch as he said, “I saw the tags on this fic and I assumed you’d be hurt/comforting me! I’m the one with all the issues! Who the hell told you that you guys could have issues?!”

“What now?” Barbara said, forcing her tone to stay even.

“And also, our lives weren’t perfect,” Adam said. “I just want to remind you that both of my parents are dead. So…yeah. When we were alive, we had struggles and challenges like everybody else.”

Beetlejuice began coughing. He stuck his fingers in his mouth, eventually pulling out a foot and tossing it on the ground. (Barbara had learned not to ask whose foot.) “Um. Can I try again?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Feel free.”

Beetlejuice opened and closed his mouth a few times, but didn’t say anything.

Adam said, “Just so you know, Bug, this isn’t something to share.” Beetlejuice was a compulsive oversharer; they’d learned to explicitly tell him what was appropriate and what wasn’t.

“It’s not because we’re ashamed,” Barbara said quickly. “It’s just our story to tell, that’s all.”

“Right! I can do that.” He focused on something in the middle distance. “Although maybe some people could really examine their need to inject complicated real-world issues into a stupid five-page fic for Beetlelands Week. Not every fandom and every fic can bear that weight! And some characters definitely aren’t designed to deal with shit like this! They’re awesome Deadpool-style badasses and not…not…whatever this needs!”

Barbara loved Beetlejuce, but he was getting on her last nerve. I didn’t think he’d completely disassociate like this. It’s only a goddamn abortion. He didn’t even have to deal with anything! “Well, I’m sorry my and Adam’s history is such an inconvenience for you. I’m going to go find something to do. If you want to talk when you’re not spiraling and doing whatever this is, come find me.”

Barbara teleported to their bedroom, the Deetzes’ former guest room, upstairs, and Adam teleported with her.

Tears wavered in his eyes. Startled, she held him, stroking his back.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“No, don’t be.”

He sniffled a few times, wiping his tears away. Their ghostly bodies still remembered how to produce tears, and if Beetlejuice was any indication, that memory would stick with them for centuries. He whispered, “We would’ve had a child. If it weren’t for me—”

Adam had always felt needless guilt about mentioning the abortion first. She’d thought he’d gotten over it. “You didn’t force me. We had student loans, the recession had just hit the year before, we couldn’t find work, and most importantly? We weren’t ready. We were barely ready 10 years later, when we had a house and good jobs.”

He smiled sadly, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Sorry. I don’t know where this is coming from.” He stroked her cheek. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

She blinked. “I’m…fine? I’ve been fine for 10 years.” She hadn’t been fine immediately before and after the abortion. There’d been lots of crying, praying, and long conversations, but that had been a long time ago. Gently, she asked, “I thought you were, too. Was I wrong?”

When did we really talk about it except immediately after? Barbara couldn’t recall.

Adam gave her that same distracted smile he used to give her after his parents’ funeral. He was a brave little soldier, marching forward. “You weren’t wrong. I’m fine.”

You didn’t push when you saw that smile. “I think I’m going to read something. Want to join me?”

“I wouldn’t mind working on the model a bit more. Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.” She kissed his cheek, and he went up to the attic to work on his model of Winter River.

She was choosing between Michelle Obama’s biography a polyamory how-to guide when a spider skittered underneath the door. The spider climbed up the wall then began spinning a web in the corner of the room at unnatural speed. Letters appeared in the web.

SORRY

I WAS A BAD BOYFRIEND

It’s a Charlotte’s Web homage, Barbara realized. She’d loved that book as a child. He remembered. “Apology accepted, Beetlejuice.”

He knocked on the door. Opening it revealed him reading from index cards. Delia, who was using her life coach skills to help Beetlejuice adjust to being part of the family, had encouraged him to write down important things.

“I should have reacted a lot better than I did,” Beetlejuice read. “You and Adam trusted me with with a part of your lives, and I should have liz—lizden? Shit, I’m bad at spelling.” He looked up from the cards, rocking back and forth on his feet. “Anyway, thanks for trusting me, baby. Sorry I was being a dick about it. You and Adam having an—an abortion had nothing to do with me or my feelings.”

Beetlejuice could talk about the filthiest sex acts and talk about rotting corpses without flinching, but now he was stumbling. Interesting. “Well, ‘we had an abortion’ might’ve been a lot to throw at you. We could’ve prepared you better.” She nodded him inside, and he floated in. She closed the door behind her. “I imagine abortions weren’t really talked about in your day.”

“Well, we thought ladies’ wombs wandered around their bodies, so…no.”

“Do you have any questions?”

“Um…are you okay?” He fidgeted. “You’re all…y’know, motherly and shit. Are you sad about having an abortion?”

“No. I mean, I don’t love that I needed it. Adam and I were a lot more careful making love after that, believe me. But Adam and my family had my back, and luckily I live in a state where I can access an abortion easily. I also found some forums, and chatting with people who’d also had abortions helped me feel less alone. Honestly, until Lydia brought up miscarriages today, I hadn’t thought about my abortion in years.” Feeling awkward, she chuckled. “Um, really glad I won’t have to deal with a clump of cells following me around in the Netherworld, though.”

She felt a twinge of guilt for not feeling guiltier. Her Good Christian Girl upbringing still reared its head now and then. But I did what was best for my family at the time. That’s all anyone can do. If I’d known Adam and I were going to die 10 years later, we might’ve done things differently, but how could we have known that?

“So, that’s my story. I was supported and very lucky. I’m not sad or guilty or anything.” She frowned. “Adam might be, though. He was strangely upset.” Did I do something wrong? Has he been suffering for years without me noticing? “He’s upstairs working on the model again.”

“I’ll cheer him up!” Beetlejuice said. He clapped his hands together. “It’s hurt/comfort. Time to be goddamn comforted, Adam.”

“I’d give him a few hours.” Adam was a brooder. There was a certain point where he just wouldn’t engage.

Beetlejuice chuckled, patting her smarmily on the head. “Your boring, married-couple rules don’t apply to me, Babs. I’mma shake things up and heal his wounded heart. You can come up and watch, if you want. Watch me win.”

Barbara made herself laugh as she tried to ignore her jealousy. Beetlejuice was just being his usual low-grade dickish self, but what if he was right? Maybe Adam will respond better to Beetlejuice than to me. I didn’t expect Adam to be this sad, after all. What else have I missed? “If you succeed, feel free to come back and give me a play-by-play of your victory.”

Beetlejuice poofed away, and Barbara picked up the how-to guide to polyamory. It couldn’t help to get a refresher.

If Beetlejuice made Adam feel better, then that was a win for everyone. She could ask him how he’d done it and learn from him. The entire point of dating Beetlejuice was to break out of their old patterns and add a little excitement to their afterlives.

Barbara was lying down on their bed, reading the first chapter when Beetlejuice teleported back in.

“You mighta been right,” he grumbled.

“It’s almost like I’ve been dating him since I was 16.”

“Of course you were high school sweethearts. You two are so cliché, I blocked that out.” Beetlejuice floated closer, whining, “Sexy raised his voice to me, Barbara!”

Barbara set the book down. “Oh, I’m sorry, Bug.” That was the Adam equivalent of full-blown shouting. (Adam had shouted at Beetlejuice before, of course, but that was when Beetlejuice had been a villain.)

“Me! The favourite!”

Barbara raised her eyebrows. “Maybe you should read this chapter with me about egalitarian polyamorous relationships—and how terms like ‘favourite’ are toxic.”

Beetlejuice floated away from her. “Mmm, nope, too many things to do.”

She’d expected that. It wasn’t clear when Beetlejuice had died, but it was definitely before therapy and couple’s counselling had become more mainstream. He didn’t have the same ability to talk about and reflect on his and other’s feelings that Barbara and Adam had. Usually, he just reacted to his own. Barbara wouldn’t have gotten into a relationship with Beetlejuice if she’d been unwilling to teach him.

“Lemme know when he’s ready to talk, okay?” the demon continued.

“Well, I don’t have a psychic link to him, but I’ll try…if you read this chapter with me.”

Beetlejuice crossed his arms over his chest, harrumphing. After a few moments, he shrugged, floated over to the bed, and curled up beside her.

If her eyes could water, they might have at the smell of rotting flesh. But Barbara quickly got used to the smell. “Let me guess—your clones poked around and didn’t find anything else interesting happening right now?”

“Ha! Busted! Delia, Lydia and Charles are still arguing about vaccines. Yap, yap, yap, yap, yap. Making out with you is way more fun.”

“We’re learning how to have a more equitable, communicative relationship. Not making out.”

“We’ll see, baby.”

They approached Adam later that afternoon.

He looked up from a figurine he was painting, expression guilty. “I’ll come down when it’s time for dinner, okay?” he said quietly. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Is there anything we can do for you now?” Barbara asked.

He looked between Barbara and Beetlejuice. His eyes were so haunted…. Barbara took a few steps forward.

“Adam?” she said softly.

“You said we weren’t ready,” he murmured roughly. “What if we would’ve been? We never even gave ourselves the chance….”

He showed her what he’d been working on: a little child figurine with her blonde hair. “There would’ve been part of you and me living now. Someone with your hair and my eyes, or your smile….”

Okay. We haven’t talked about the abortion in years, and now he’s making a model of what would have become our child. So, this is new. But I can handle this. I know him. I’ve got this.

Nevertheless, a tiny part of her really wanted to tag out and let Beetlejuice handle this one. Not that he would’ve done well—he was frozen except for his eyes, frantically flicking between her and Adam.

While Barbara thought of the most empathetic, respectful way to respond, Beetlejuice blurted out, “Someone’s got a case of the Shouldas.”

“Hmm?” Adam grunted, looking uninterested.

“You know, shoulda done this when I was alive. Shoulda done that. Every newlydead goes through it. Of course, usually they’re stuck in an endless void and not chilling in the living world with their sexy boyfriend.” Beetlejuice nodded to Barbara. “And your sexy wife.”

So he had learned something from that chapter they’d read together. Barbara gave him a small smile. “How do newlydeads usually get through it?” she asked.

“‘Get through’ is real optimistic, Babs. They just get crushed by overwhelming despair and hopelessness. It’s the Netherworld. Everything sucks there.”

Adam grunted again.

Beetlejuice rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I can’t really talk about ‘healing’ and shit….” He gestured frantically for Barbara to do something.

One thing about spending so much time with Beetlejuice was that you got used to out-of-the box thinking. It was time for a little experiment. Barbara didn’t give herself time to think, and dove right in.

“Congratulations, Maitlands.” She made air horn noises. The words ‘The Life We Never Had’ appeared in bright text above the model town. “Welcome to your life where you had your child!”

Adam and Beetlejuice both stared at her in stunned silence.

“This got so dark, so fast, but I kinda love it,” Beetlejuice commented.

“Well,” she said, “first of all, forget this house. We’d probably be living with your parents. They don’t even live in town.” She took a few moments to create a mental map, then gestured at the model. It grew larger, to the surrounding counties. Adam’s family farm was on the outskirts of this new map.

“And forget the CPA degree. No way we can afford that now. But your uncle Eddy has that plumbing business. He’d probably give you a job.” She manifested Eddy’s truck, making it drive through town. “I’d probably knit and sell things on Etsy…. Wait, it’s 2010. Does Etsy even exist?” Barbara couldn’t remember. “Or I’d sell them at the local farmer’s market. We probably still love our projects, even if we don’t have as much time for them now.”

Barbara could’ve gone darker. In this future, she would’ve been stuck in Adam’s parents’ home with no career prospects and a baby she wasn’t sure she wanted. If anything was a recipe for postpartum depression, that would’ve been. But she kept it light.

“Oh, jeez,” she realized, “I forgot all about names! What do you think of Aspen?” Barbara had always wanted a nature-themed name.

“It has the word ‘Ass’ in it,” Beetlejuice complained. “Do you want bullies to give your kid swirlies?”

“You’re not here, mister. You don’t get a say.”

“Hey, that’s right! We never meet if you don’t move into the house.” Beetlejuice frowned. “Truly, this is the darkest timeline.”

“What about River?” Adam said. “For our child.”

“River. That’s beautiful. Okay, so little River goes to school here.” She gestured to the school in town. “What do you think? Good grades?”

“Of course.”

“And then you guys commit crimes!” Beetlejuice interrupted.

Barbara raised her eyebrows.

“What? Boring people commit crimes all the time and become awesome. Weeds? Breaking Bad?”

“I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t.”

“Argh, fine, I was just getting bored of all this slice-of-life shit. Let’s spice things up!”

“Ooo, maybe we solve crimes? Like a cozy mystery set in rural Connecticut.”

“Committing them is way more fun, but I’ll take anything at this point. Your ideal lives are so boring! River’s gonna do meth just to feel alive!”

“They might fall in with a bad crowd in high school,” Barbara said.

“Thank you! A little conflict, please. It’s the essence of drama!”

“But we’d be there for them,” Adam said. “Hmm. Mom and Dad would still die, I suppose. I’d probably disappoint my Maitland ancestors and sell the farm.”

Barbara watched him intently. He wasn’t smiling, but he seemed a bit more engaged than he had been.

“We could move into one of the homes here,” she suggested, nodding to one of the small houses on the outside of town.

“That’s gonna really suck for you when the zombies attack,” Beetlejuice said.

Barbara kept making up their fake life, with Adam chiming in every now and then, both of them trying to ignore Beetlejuice’s input. They tried to give River a nice life, with a full-ride scholarship to NYU (which was, coincidentally, Lydia’s dream school), lots of friends, and a home that may not be full of money but was full of love.

Eventually, Adam smiled and shook his head. “Thanks for playing dolls with me, guys.”

Barbara hugged him from behind. “If you need time to mourn, take all the time you need. Beetlejuice and I are here for you.”

Adam wiped some tears from his eyes. “I think I do. Sorry, sweetie. Sometimes all the things we never got to do…they just hit me, hard. Even things I’d made peace with long ago. I spent so much of my life worrying….”

Barbara moved to stand beside him, kissing his cheek. If she could’ve made him feel warm, she would have.

Beetlejuice was spaced out, staring into the middle distance. Thinking of his own Shouldas, maybe? Nah. He never looks back unless he’s trapped in a traumatic memory about his mother. Probably wondering when we can make out again.

She nodded him over, and he blinked, coming back to the present. Hesitantly, he floated over and rested his chin on Adam’s head.

They were both still and silent, two things Beetlejuice hated, so it wasn’t surprising when a horde of centipedes skittered across the model, or a tiny King Kong grabbed a figurine and climbed up to the top of the town bell tower, roaring.

Lydia interrupted them when she she poked her head into the attic and told them dinner was ready. “And the leftovers will be stored in glass containers—if you leave us any leftovers, Beej. Delia cleared the cupboard of all plastics. Don’t worry about the baby, either. If Delia continues to believe tea tree oil can cure pneumonia or whatever, Dad and I will get the kid vaccinated when she’s not around.”

Barbara smiled at her chosen daughter. Beetlejuice was right; they weren’t stuck in the lonely void of the Netherworld. There was life and family just downstairs. “I’m glad. But I’m sure we’ll be able to convince her otherwise. We have nine months.”

“You’re more optimistic than I am, Barbara.”

Adam put the River figurine with the smattering of other children outside the grade school. “Let’s go,” he said quietly.

The three of them followed Lydia to the dinner table.

#beetlelandsweek2020 #beetlelands #goldenbeetle #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice #adam maitland #barbara maitland #beetlejuice x adam x barbara

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benisasoftboi · 4 years ago

Text

Unorganised thoughts on Trails of Cold Steel III:

...I’m gonna need like a week to process that

I guess I know why people hate George now!

Could really use a good old reset from KeA right now

This is the best game in the Cold Steel series so far. Easily

I... there’s no way they’re all really dead, right? This series has been completely toothless about killing anyone who isn’t a villain until now, no way they’re permanently killing someone who’s been here since practically day 1, no way. Show me a body

And even then I’ll doubt it with all these revivals happening all over the place

‘He’s HIDING’ I sob as I apply clown make-up

Ben Diskin did not need to go so hard on the voice acting at Millium’s death he did not need to do that to me

My god when Angie drove into the graveyard and my PS4 popped up a little notification telling me it was a blocked scene, the tension in me... and I never saw that coming, I’ll have to see if it was foreshadowed at all by replaying CS1 and 2 some time

I saw Lughman being a baddie a mile away (a mysterious professor turning out to be evil in a Trails game? UNPRECEDENTED!) but he’s Alisa’s dad!?

Neat writing trick actually, since they probably knew we’d guess the former, they blindside us with the latter

I can’t express how happy it made me that the Rufus battle was Machias Jusis Elliot. My dream team!

Estelle and Joshua got mentioned so much I figured they’d make a surprise appearance at the end and save the day

So. Characters:

Rean: Rean is once again moderately more interesting than he was before, but still the least interesting person in the game. I guess he’s got some guilt that’s actually justified now, that’s cool?

I ship him with Crow, not because the pairing really appeals to me that much, but because being shipped with Crow would totally piss Rean off and I find that extremely funny

His relationship with Altina is the best relationship he’s ever had with a female character and it is 100% because she’s the only girl he’s never ship teased with

(I don’t have an issue with the concept of ship tease itself, I have an issue with Rean-ship tease because 1. I still truly do not understand why so many girls like him so much and 2. None of it will ever canonically go anywhere)

(Seriously I’m so tempted to write a breakdown of why every other guy in Erebonia is more desirable than Rean)

Juna: I like Juna. I realised early on that she and Kurt remind me of Estelle and Joshua, without being carbon copies, and that’s good. I also think her relationship with Rean was really interesting - ‘I don’t know how to feel about you because you saved my life, but it also wouldn’t have needed saving if it weren’t for your country’s actions, which you’ve played a major role in - but now I’m being forced to confront that you’re a human being too’ is a really complicated situation for her. It’s a lot more interesting than ‘I don’t like you because you accidentally got a face full of chest’, Alisa

I also really liked using her, I ended up loading her with the Platinum Pecky Medal and defensive stuff, and she was a wall, she took an S-craft from Arianrhod in her stride! My buff girl!

She should’ve just been the new protagonist ngl

Kurt: Kurt had a lot to live up to, seeing as his brother is my favourite minor character. And oh does he succeed, Kurt is my favourite of New VII, he’s a good straight man, he’s great in battle, I like his arc, I like his friendship with Juna, I like Kurt

Altina: I was not sure about Altina just... being a student now. But damn if she didn’t have the best character arc in the game. I only did her final bonding event on a whim, but it’s the best one I saw. My girl Allie deserves the damn world

I really, truly believe those three have a bond as well, they’re very well written as a group. This was a problem I had with Old VII, the fact that so many of them just... didn’t have relationships with each other. How do, say, Fie and Machias feel about each other? I have no idea. But this group has a fantastic dynamic and it makes that ending so much more effective

It’s like I praised Crossbell for, really - having a small core group is much more manageable in terms of giving them all equal screen time and getting me to care about them

Musse: Uh, kind of one-note and annoying, honestly. I don’t hate her or anything, but like... she’s either Being Mysterious or Hitting On Her Teacher (I hate it I hate it so much). It’s just hard to care about someone who’s clearly so fake, I guess? I’m definitely interested in her, but like... I don’t really like her

Ash: Poor boy. I thought Ash was such an interesting character (and man do I love having someone around who does not like Rean, and never really changes his mind about it). Ash is very well done imo

Alisa: Alisa is good when the issue is her family drama, and is so goddamn boring when it comes to Rean. Nothing new there

Elliot: I love his little ponytail I love it he’s so cute I want to hug him so bad

Laura: Winner of the ‘best new outfit’ award (was never that fond of her war outfit, but this one is perfect). Still good, but not notably so. I feel so bad for Laura, she tries so hard to matter, but she’s by far the character you’d have the easiest time lifting out of the game

And while I love Elliot... same situation really. You could go back to the start and have one character named Elliaura who likes swords and music and has two big-shot dads, and you wouldn’t lose much

Machias: Took down Rufus, yeah, destroy your best friend (boyfriend)’s evil family! Winner of the ‘worst new outfit’ award, AGAIN. Also winner of ‘dorkiest S-craft’. I did his final bonding event first, and according to Playstation trophies it’s the least popular one! Stop sleeping on my boy Machias guys, I know he was annoying in the first game but I love him :(

Gaius: Special award to Gaius for finally being interesting! Boy’s a Gralsritter now, did not see that coming!

And of course it happened off screen. Because god forbid interesting stuff happen to Gaius when we’re actually around

Oh also goddamn, that is a beautiful man

Emma: Don’t really like the new outfit. It’s kind of remarkable that she’s so important but I keep forgetting she exists. Exposition witch who sometimes just doesn’t deliver the exposition I guess

Fie: Still my fav girl. Wish there had been more focus on her feelings about her dad coming back to life. Like that she’s a bracer

Jusis: Wasn’t sure how to feel about his newly close friendship with Millium because I was concerned that I was meant to ship it (by far my least favourite thing about this franchise is that that was not an unreasonable concern, as it wouldn’t even be the most inappropriate relationship in this game alone). Very, very glad it was confirmed sibling-y (not that it’s stopped them before). He didn’t really get to do anything else, sadly, but he’s good as always

I did the Purebread contest with him, and he made bread from coffee beans Machias gave him, the Ferdibert Fire Emblem energy-

“What are you doing underneath this scarlet Pleroma Grass?”

Milliam: :(

Sara: Doesn’t get much to do because this cast is bloated but like, I still really like her :)

Towa: Someone needs to check on Towa all her friends are dead or evil the poor poor girl (or uh. I guess Crow isn’t... hmm.)

Angie :(

My kids Tita and Agate are back and completely overshadowed by people teasing this almost 30-year old man about being in love with a 17 year old that he’s only ever claimed to see as a sister, I swear to god

The orbal gear looks so goofy lol

Stop mentioning Schera as just being ‘totally here, just off screen, ha ha’ give her a model! Have her be here!

Don’t get me wrong, I loved seeing Josette again, I just don’t get... why? Why is she here?

Tio is back! And so is Randy, as a major character! I’m very very happy, I love them both

Michael’s fine, I guess? He’s kind of bland but I guess that’s kind of the point and I like him just fine. He serves his purpose well

I’ve never really liked Claire all that much, but she’s fine in this one again I suppose. A bit disappointed by the Lechter reveals really, I had expected more, to be honest

Aurelia is a fun character and I enjoy her as the principal. Want to see her fight Cassius

Want to see Cassius

I love my girl Annabelle, but she’s the only reason I didn’t get all the character profiles (how was I meant to know I could even go to the highway at that point hmmm Falcom!?)

They picked a good selection of returning Thors students. Even Dorothee isn’t as annoying as she used to be. Hilarious that she’s the only one who didn’t get a profile

Juna gave a great big speech about how awesome the SSS are and namedrops everyone EXCEPT WAZY! My FAVOURITE Crossbell character! So offensive!

Oh speaking of offensive I took Machias to the Mishy show and was told he and Rean did a Mishy dance but they didn’t show it, what the hell-

Playable Olivier! Olivier back story! I could write a goddamn essay on why Olivier is such a great character. Glaring at you Falcom

I miss Mueller :(

Ada Grant is wonderful and I want better things for her

Rufus is a damn great villain just because of how much sense his actions suddenly make when you know that one little detail of him not actually being Jusis’s brother

I hate Cedric but like, in a way where I’m having fun hating him. That little bitch

Literally what do you even actually want Osbourne

I still cannot stand Elise. Something I realised playing this game is that one of the things that stops the Estelle and Joshua relationship from being as weird as it could be is that they don’t look at all alike, it’s very clear they’re not related in the slightest. Elise and Rean look like they really could be siblings, and come to think, so do Lloyd and Cecile. Which is also teased, to a lesser extent. It would be so much less uncomfortable if they just swapped Elise and Alfin’s models ngl (though still not good)

inb4 the final plot twist of the whole series is that Estelle and Joshua actually were biological siblings all along

This game looks so much better than its predecessors. Having the models being a little rounder and softer looking makes it look much more like an updated version of the original style than the complete departure that was CS1 and 2. Every time there was a flashback, Rean would be like ‘back then...’ and I’d feel compelled to say out loud ‘when we were shiny, and looked bad!’

‘Evil ancient magic corrupts people into making them do bad things!’ is... honestly a bit of a cop out that I did not expect from this series

I found Rean telling Patrick ‘leave room for Aidios when dancing with my sister’ extremely funny. Rean would totally be a Christian summer camp counsellor in the real world

I honestly would have enjoyed it a lot more if Alfin decided to cause a scandal and have her first dance with Elise, but we can’t have such luxuries I suppose

When you get that book on dystopias, very clever to put the author on the last page. Seeing the name Gideon gave me such a start

Racquel was easily my fav new location

Leeves > Trista no doubt, maybe I’m just biased because it looks a lot like the village I grew up in but it’s just such a nicer design

Also the branch campus > main campus purely for being smaller, making the filler segments between field trips more bearable

I prefer the longer but fewer chapters set-up, I think

There’s so many sad faces in this write up :(

Back when I played Sky SC, I said something about how one of the themes is ‘you are not defined by your trauma’. I now think it would be more accurate to say that the theme of all the games (but especially the Sky arc) is ‘don’t let your worst experiences define you’

Because there are characters who define themselves by their traumas and worst experiences - and those characters are all villains, or miserable, or both. Like, they don’t phrase it as such, but the requirement to be an Ouroboros enforcer is ‘have trauma and define yourself by it’

And both Joshua and Renne’s arcs are about learning not to do that

Equally, the idea that ‘it’s much easier to not to define yourself by your trauma when you have a good support system that wants the best for you’ is a big theme as well

I just think that’s a really interesting idea for a JRPG series to tackle, idk

I can’t believe I’m at the last game! This series has been my life for the past near-half a year, what do I do when I finish it?

...go back and play Sky FC, maybe?

#trails of cold steel 3 #trails of cold steel #trails series #kiseki series #erebonia arc

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abbynx · 4 years ago

Text

Sibling things (Kakyoin X Sibling reader)

Spoilers for part three! Please skip if you haven't watched/finished it yet!

Just an angsty fic to satisfy my needs for my lovely cherry boi~

Yesterday... It felt like yesterday when you and I played together within the enclosed walls of our residence. Despite being too young to remember such things, the memory was vivid in my memories. That dumb cherry licking, mother chasing bastard was a tolerable asshat who tend to tease me a lot. He'd mess my hair style whenever he gets the chance, call me an embarrassing nickname, just sibling things nothing much. With all the teasing, all the fight picking, all the kicks, the punch, scratching, biting, possibly knife pointing... We cared about each other, for we were told that it would be us against the world when we grew up. If we grew up... I can't get to grow up with him like we planned.

______________________________________

"Happy seventeenth birthday! Oh my sweet darling child!" Your mother embraced you, pressing a firm kiss on your cheek leaving the residue of her red lipstick after you blew the small flame that burned the red candle moulded to mimic a cherry.

You softly smiled at her statement, when your eyes flickered up and caught a glimpse on the mirror. For some goddamn reason, you didn't see yourself in it. In your place, you saw Noriaki, embracing your mother with that smile of his while he was wearing his form fitting uniform of his he always wear for some god forsaken reason. You saw yourself in the mirror as well, holding the cherry flavoured you bought with your allowance.

_____________________________________ Seventeen. It was his seventeenth and last birthday. I can vividly remember planning his birthday, saving funds, baking him the cherry flavoured cake since it was his favourite, saving my allowance to buy him the video game he had his eye on...

A bright future was ahead of him, welcoming him. Bright young man with grace, regality, intelligence, had myriads of talents. He was an intellectual, a painter, a gamer! He knew a thing about other cultures, literature, norms, morals. A boy with the heart of gold, brains rich with knowledge and wisdom... The bright young man wasn't bright at all, as darkness snuffed his light and he was gone. ______________________________________

"We are so proud of you sweetheart." Missus Kakyoin wholeheartedly smiled, she took your cheeks within her grasp, softly running her thumb on your cheek. Her eyes became glossy with tears pooling in her eyes that couldn't escape. "We love you Y/N. Please remember that no matter what."

"Your brother would be so happy and proud of you." The patriarch of the Kakyoin family puts a hand on the matriarch's shoulder, smiling alongside her as tears has already escaped his eyes.

"Thank you mom, dad." You gathered them into a warm embrace in an attempt to hide your watering eyes, not wanting them to see you cry. You glanced up, catching the family's framed photograph from two years ago. Noriaki sat beside you, whilst your parents stood behind you. That stupid jerk and his stupid smile, he was seventeen and had decades and decades more to live when he died, he could've been nineteen already.

Upset, you gripped your parents tightly within your grasp, tears making their way out of your eyes whilst your chest tightened with your denied sobs.

_____________________________________ Loneliness... All he wanted was a friend, someone who can understand him, who will be there for him as much as he is there for them... And that he found, I was proud of him for making friends... But he was only friends with them for fifty days. ______________________________________

"Oh! Happy belated birthday Y/N!" Your classmate leaned on your desk with a bright smile. "Gosh, you're seventeen now! Only four more years and we're legal to drink! I would TOTES love to hang out with you."

"Thank you, Ibara. I would also love that!" You responded, putting a humble hand on your chest with a close eyes smile.

"Wow! That necklace is pretty! Emerald really suits you a lot!" She compliments, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It accentuates your features and it's really pretty despite not being that bedazzled. Simplicity really is beauty."

You blinked at her in shock. "You really think so?" Your hand unconsciously lands on the circular shaped emerald pendant.

"Yeah! It's so very pretty! Its the first time I saw you wearing a necklace, so it must be new. Is it a birthday gift?" She gasps, covering her lips with her opened palms before smirking mischievously. "Is it from your boyfriend~?"

"Oh, more like my brother's boyfriend!" You rolled your eyes, playfully punching the girl's shoulder.

Jotaro Kujo, Noriaki's friend visited you yesterday. The big guy was a statue towering over your small stature but that didn't let you be afraid of him. Despite being practically strangers with each other, only seeing one another during random bumps in school, a friend of your brother's is a friend of yours. And besides, you found yourself being fond of his family after his grandfather and Jotaro came to your residence that day to share the tragic news. It was a complicated situation, very messy... But in the end, the tragedy was all the same, the death, the circumstance... Despair inducing.

Jotaro Kujo shared so many tales about your brother, how smart he was, how helpful, how brave... How dead he was.

___________________________________ "I honestly didn't know he'd be capable of that..."

"Same here. In all my years of knowing him, I never knew he'd pull that stunt... But undeniably, sounds like him," I smiled, looking over the normally silent behemoth. "And you're right about the cherry stuff. He regularly does that whenever he'd eat cherries."

"It's unnerving, to be frank." The hat wearing boy turned away, tipping his hat downward.

"It is! I remember when we'd buy milkshakes after school! He would often take my cherry and do that thing he always do....."

The storytelling went on, endless stories of Noriaki's childhood with me went on and on. I could never get tired of taking about him, his memory lives on with me, in my heart and in my soul. It hurts to admit he's gone in this certain young age of seventeen, but he still lives inside me... That came out wrong, but you get my point.

After our not-so brief talk about Nori, it was time for him to leave, when he turns back to me. In his hand, was a black velvet box wrapped with an emerald bow. He said it was my gift for my birthday and wouldn't you know it, the behemoth is a huge softie. He is like an older brother to me, but of course, I would never replace Nori.

Let me tell you this, it wasn't easy being friends with Jotaro. I'm a junior year while he's a senior. And for some god forsaken reason, they thought we were dating... Uh, I like him as a friend/brother. Nothing more, really.

The box... Inside it, was the necklace. The golden chain and the circular emerald pendant, a certain colour I often associated with my older brother as he named his stand's attack just that. Emerald splash... No one could deflect it, as he claims alright. That's what I thought at least, he never aimed the attack on me.

I gave Jotaro a hug before he parted ways with me. The green certainly reminded me of the stand and it's user... I honestly miss them. _____________________________________

"Say Y/N, I say we go get some boba tea after this class! My treat of course!" Your friend beams, posing with a peace sign at you. "It's the least I can do since I wasn't able to attend your birthday yesterday! And it really makes me feel guilty!"

"Oh Ibara you don't have to," you giggled. "But if you insist!"

As of cue, the bell rang to signal class was over. Ibara has always been a close friend of yours since you've transferred in this school. The girl with an obsession for boba milk teas and middle aged actors who were thrice her age. The comforting soul that stuck with you while you mourned for your brother's death and never left your side. After packing you bag, you glanced at the orange haired girl who was already waiting for you in the doorway with an encouraging smile. Giving your friend a smirk, looping your elbows through hers.

"Off we go, Ibara. A certain cherry boba milk tea is calling my name~" you giggled.

"Oh you always get that flavour. You're obsessed with cherries, aren't you? How come you don't try other flavours?" Ibara asks, casting a questioning glance at your direction. "And your pin is even cherry! And your earrings! Seriously! You and your cherry obsession!"

"I don't know why, but I think they taste good and they're oddly aesthetically pleasing." you lied. "I just like how cherries taste and how they look, that's all."

______________________________________

Heavenly... Every moment spent with you is the reason why I lived.

You may not realize it, big brother, but you were a great influence for me. I was hard on myself for not knowing how certain mathematics work, I knew not much about literature, culture, history, sociology and you taught me all about it. Stands, what the fuck were stands? I developed one and I was afraid and you helped me cope with it and now we're friends.

I knew nothing about friendship, but my relationship with you alone made me feel relevant, valid despite being bullied back in elementary. Your influence lurked within me every single time.

Thoughts like "What would big brother Nori do if...." Frequently crossed my mind whenever an inconvenience occured. You are, in a way, my role model. I love how you handle things, the way you think, negotiate, move after thinking... Such a quick witted guy you were. That's how much I look up at you despite I acted mean to you. You never knew how you influenced me to be a person I am today...

I miss you, truly. I wish you weren't dead.

But I have to ask... Why? Why do you always want to make me feel better about myself when you can't even do the same thing for yourself?

You did everything to make me smile, make me feel comfortable, make me feel loved, appreciated, you helped me feel valid while you suffered with your own pain. You bear your pain alone while I had the nerve to unload my personal baggage as if I was the most miserable person there is...

Hell, I don't even know how much you've suffered until you died. I'm such a useless younger sibling who can't even return the same gestures you've made for me... _____________________________________

"Ewww, what is that?" Fifteen year old Y/N Kakyoin pointed at the canvas in which the red haired male painted on.

"Why, it's my very own magnum opus, dearest youngest sibling," Noriaki jokingly stated with a mock posh accent. "It was time that I replace De Vinci, don't you think?" He moves away for you to get a perfect view of his painting.

It was a painting of your Stand that stood behind a street light. The rough painting was difficult to recognise, but the colour scheme was a dead give away for your Stand. You presumed it was still unfinished, considering there was a clear outline of another character that stood in front of your Stand.

"Why would you chose to draw trash like me?" You pointed at yourself, seating yourself on a stool whilst you watched him dip his paintbrush on a pile of mixed paint before making soft, precise stroke on the canvas.

"No don't say that, you're not trash. You're the whole dumpster." He retorts with a smirk. You couldn't see him as he had his back turned away from you, but you highly suspected he was smirking.

"Wow, that's toooootally original," you dragged the vowels, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms. "Says the one with a trashy looking hair."

Noriaki chuckles, shaking his head, the dangling cherry earrings he has shook alongside him. "Okay, I take it back. You're not the whole dumpster, nor trash. You're just my cute little sibling." He has this smile that can light the whole damn town with fire, and girls would swoon and fall and dance around that fire like witches in a ritual to summon a demon... Ugh, it sounded too specific, but that's how you'd describe his smile. Irresistible, not easy to contained and it easily affected you as well because in no time, you were smiling just like him.

"Okay, what the fuck did you eat for you to say those things to me? Who are you and what have you done to my Noriaki?" You laughed, poking him by his tiny waist and immediately elicited a flinch and a laugh from him.

"Oh nothing, just feeling particularly thankful for the existence of my younger sibling who is totally relevant and beautiful in every way. They think that they're bad looking and is often feeling down, as they doubt themselves every time makes me feel like a bad brother." He puts the brush down alongside the others and turns to face you. Noriaki firmly places his hands atop your shoulders and shook you repeatedly. "You haven't been completely honest with yourself and your family. I know something's happening to you in your class. Tell me what's wrong."

His firm grip prevented you from escaping, prompting you to pout. Of course he'd know you were being bullied. He always knows something is up. You're starting to think he uses those good looks of his to pull gossips from gossiping school girls who knew of your circumstances. Nevertheless, you sighed, you spilled your problems as he listens intently.

"I just... I don't feel like expressing myself if people can't accept me. They're right though. I'm just an irrelevant trash and— ow!" You were able to barely flinch when his grip tightens around your shoulders.

"You. Are. Valid and beautiful! Don't forget that okay? You're a flame that doesn't deserve to be snuffed out." He reassures. "I know how you feel, but know that there will be people out there who will love you for who you are. You're not irrelevant, you're not trash. You're the best, unique and the only you they will ever meet and they will miss out for not meeting you. I will not stop saying these things if you do not know, scratch that, believe you are one of the most wonderful person everyone will meet."

"Tsk, stop being cheesy you dumb dork." You playfully punched him by his pectoral, trying to deny your glossy eyes to escape, prompting you to coil your arms around his waist to prevent him from seeing it. "Big dumb dork."

"See? There's my little sibling!" He strokes your hair with a soft smile. "So cute and small, growing too fast!"

"You're not mom, you don't have the right to say that." You glanced at him with a smirk, poking a finger on his waist earning a slight flinch from him, as he is ticklish there.

"Well I am your older brother and I am always in charged on watching you," he flicks you by the forehead in retaliation, prompting you to lightly smack his cheek with a toothy grin. "Have you finished packing yet?

"Yep. I honestly can't wait for the trip in Egypt. I think this going to be the best vacation slash celebration of successfully moving to another house." After speaking, you let out a high pitched shriek when he ruffled your hair with his palms with a mischievous chuckle. As you were about to attempt to free yourself from his grip, he tightly held you to his body and resumed ruffling with your hair as you squirmed and moved. Once he had his fun, he released you with a playful chuckle, watching you rearrange your hair. "Ohhh, curse you!"

"Shut up, now go to bed. We still have a flight to catch tomorrow. If you need me I'll be in my room. Good night!" He waves, abandoning you in the living room as you tend to your hair.

"Whatever you cherry sucking idiot." You incoherently mumbled to yourself, straightening your hair into its former glory.

____________________________________

I love you Noriaki... I hope you believe that. Mom and dad are proud of you, they love and miss you so much. Your friends miss you and they are grateful for what you've done for them.

I hope you're doing well up there with the angels and the cherry gods or whatever.

Know that your little sibling is alive and well and living the best years of their life because of you. By this, I will fulfill everything you have never done.

I miss you big brother and you will always live in my heart. _____________________________________

#jojo kakyoin noriaki x reader #jojo's bizzare adventure stardust crusaders #jojo sdc #noriaki kakyoin #kakyoin #cherryboi #sibling #x reader #platonic #angsty #death

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boog-shitposting-edition · 4 years ago

Text

So I been playing a ton of Kenshi and watched all of the Mandalorian in a single day shortly before and it’s got me thinking about what makes what I consider a good action hero, because there was definitely a time where I thought the phrase “good action hero” was an oxymoron.

I grew up around some angry, unstable dudes who had that bad habit of watching horror movies and opining that in the same situation they would simply shoot the monster with the gun the character was holding. I got some views on the model of masculinity that sees the male ideal as functionally a tool for performing violence, condescension and occasional reddit-approved banter with all other emotional responses pared away or suppressed. This seems like a good way to manufacture a product for performing labor rather than developing a whole functional human being. So I generally veer away from that sort of thing pretty hard.

So I’m resistant to the Mandalorian at first, right? All the ads are basically star wars apocryphica and a power armored fighty gun boy. The last star wars thing I’d seen was The Rise Of Skywalker and my faith in the franchise is low. But it’s been a hot minute, the hype dies down, and my girlfriend is a better and more patient fan than I’ll ever be so we give it a go. And the first thing that really nails it for me is what a DORK the mando is. I’m delighted, his life is violence interdispersed with being an absolute buttfumble disaster. He slips and falls over things he could never have predicted, he burns his life down for a baby he finds in the desert. Pedro Pascal references Boba Fetts stiff menace and plays it off as someone who has no social skills other than stiff menace and it’s FASCINATING. Him explaining to the village woman who is obviously into him that he hasn’t taken the armor off since he was thirteen isn’t a badass declaration of martial devotion, it is the single saddest and most awkward interaction I have ever seen filmed and it hits all the harder for the fact that this is a character I’ve mostly ever seen as an action figure with a spring loaded missile backpack. Instead of being a faceless emotionless action-cudgel, Pedro amps up the body language in his acting to really sell you this heavily psychologically damaged, desperate, viking-space-catholic mess with no life skills other than violence and a devotion to his people’s creed that borders on obsession. Rather than paring himself down making him a psychological fortress, the Mando is an incredibly obvious walking raw nerve (”I’m not sad-” “Yes you are.”) So, Kenshi.

I’ve heard about this game on and off a few years and finally got it a few days ago. It’s been in early access since 2012, appears to be mostly getting finished by its modding community, and glitches like absolute woah. There’s no core storyline, just a post-apocalyptic setting with some surprisingly detailed autogenerated NPC interactions with some options for starting conditions and the sole goal of surviving. It’s essentially a rapid sequence of story prompts hidden underneath a closely interlocked system of XP grinding, survival mechanics and dismemberment algorithms, and is appallingly my shit.

My first run at the game got pretty far, went from a lone confused desert wanderer to a 13 man village running a tidy copper-mining operation to trade with the ant people. In the early game, fight mechanics are basically a death sentence; my first character immediately got her leg torn off by a goat and I had to restart. All skills grow only by excersizing them; you have to fight to get better at fighting, you have to LOSE fights to gain toughness, and when you lose a fight the consequences can range from “these bandits are stealing all your food” to “this monster is eating your leg/heart/head” to “these slavers are taking your character away and your game experience is Different now.” And while I was proud of myself for finding a way to survive, grow and thrive with a low-combat squad, once I tried the basebuilding mechanics that basically just meant my town was a source of free food and money for local bandits while my squad starved to death, unable to abandon our locale. So I got fed up and restarted.

As mentioned the game gives you different start positions; wanderer gives you 1 character, some money and pants. Guy and his dog gives you a dog, which is fun. Exiled officer starts you with good skills and the hatred of your former commander, which complicates things. Cannibal Hunters starts you already in a fistfight with 30 cannibals. It’s exciting times. But I figure this time I’d like to start my squad a LITTLE more capable of defending themselves, so I look at the Holy Sword start; you’re a bandit who starts with a stolen holy weapon, minuses in most skills, no money and a 20,000 bounty on your head from both major factions.

So I proceed to character creation and notice I can pick whatever I want for player species/subspecies with this start. There’s robot people and warriors made of stone and baseline humans and all sorts of fun options, but you remember those ant people I mentioned before? In game they’re called the Hivers, you find ‘em in 3 recruitable varieties (prince, worker drone and soldier) and they have an interesting in-universe quirk; ones that grow up in the hive are pheramone-addicted, chemically wired into the needs and wants of all of their fellows, but if you’re away from your kin for over a fortnight this addiction dries out incredibly fast and cannot be reinstated. Hivers who ever spend any time away from the hive are declared “lost ones,” and are often taken advantage of in the outside world as they long for a new community.

In survival sims I dont often play dedicated fighters, I always feel like being a brutal fight-beast isn’t really in the spirit of finding a niche to exploit and growing from a fumbling plebian to a major power. But I was already starting this game with my ONLY advantage being a nice sword. And the soldier hivers gain a buff to experience gained for melee attack and toughness, and a debuff to literally all else.

Manual labor. Science. Engineering. Farming. Cooking. First aide. In a setting that heavily prioritized your ability to survive using multiple vital skill sets, my character would start with negatives in his skills for putting on band-aids and FEEDING himself. So I gave it a go.

Getting more wild here, it turns out the Holy Sword opening also takes place in a time in the setting with more recent warfare, so a bunch of the starting villages are destroyed and it appears that more of the nearby cities are controlled by the factions that have a bounty on me. So my character CAN’T rely on other people or meet anyone to recruit at first. He can run, he can scrounge and scavenge, and as mentioned above starting characters can take lethal damage from GOATS so he can’t even hunt for food; the only way I was getting a meal was if I robbed someone or ran into merchants on the road I could hawk my salvage to for a scrap of bread.

He eventually finds someone willing to join him on his travels in spite of being flat broke, a shek named Ruka running from a dishonerable loss on the battlefield, and comparing their skills he’s so useless for everything besides combat that I assign him to bodyguard her. And again, this game’s appeal is that the survival mechanics make good story prompts, so imagine that in character.

“Fine, I need a change. I’ll join you.” “Thank god. Lead the way boss.” “What?”

Things regarding my characters bounty are starting to heat up in town, so we head north into hiver territory. We get attacked by bandits and heavily injured, my soldier gets knocked out, so Ruka picks him up and carries him until we find a hive town. I saw these guys all the time in my last playthrough, I survived by selling to them, they’re super friendly, should be fine. Ruka walks into the local shop and before I can have her ask for directions and a medikit the shopkeeper is already shouting- “SKREEE! LOST ONE! GET OUT! LOST ONES BRING MADNESS”

Apparently, my protagonist being a hiveless hiver means there’s a THIRD faction that’s hostile to him; his own goddamn people. Ruka has to leave him under a tree not just outside but like 50 feet from the edge of town, and just has to hope none of the local wild megafauna eats him while she rushes back in to buy things from the now abruptly friendlier shopkeep.

I’m finally sitting there, having Ruka watch my soldier hiver sleep while she cooks scavanged meat and waits for him to finish healing, that I realize what the story being generated here is and it’s a good one; a Hive soldier whose only skills are violence, frantically scavenging and stealing to survive until he can find the one circumstance where he’s comfortable, sacrificing himself to protect others. He steals a sword that’s obviously important to two major governments, just because he knows it’s powerful and thinks that power will justify his continued existence as a hiveless soldier drone, essentially buying his way back into his people’s good graces by performing his function. Literally wandering the world until he found a single person who was willing to boss him around again and devoting himself to their defense to a state of pathological damage just to feel like he has a hive again. It’s sad. It’s badass. It’s deeply, unsettlingly pathetic.

But I also think it’s what makes a really really good gruff action hero!

Hypercompetence in violence is really interesting when you acknowledge the damage it can do to your humanity in the storytelling! The Mandalorian is unsuccessful in repressing his empathy response so he just tries to tough through the pain it causes him as best he can, until he meets The Child and it snaps. The Hiver is essentially playing pretend at being still valued as a product for committing violence, even in the face of being openly rejected for his previously esteemed role. This stuff is INTERESTING.

TL;DR version, a lot of these “supersoldier raised by the military/fight wizards/karate” characters are super boring and obnoxious when they’re put forward as power fantasies, and really interesting when you realize that being raised by Fight Wizards is why they’ve never had a girlfriend and called their handgun “mom” once.

#kenshi #star wars #mandalorian

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canonicallyanxious · 4 years ago

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hi. i was wondering what you thought or if you had any criticisms with the original skam? I wish the original season 3 focused more on isak's mental health and season 2 didnt act like norhelms flaws didnt exist. loved season 1.

oh boy do i!

man i’ve been trying to figure out how exactly i want to answer this question for hours now skdjfndksjfnd like just take one look at my blog and you can see i’m complete and utter SCU [skam cinematic universe] trash but i do have LOTS of complicated feelings and thoughts about og skam. in an effort to be measured and fair about this, i’m going to try to distinguish bw genuine criticism of the writing/etc. and personal nitpicks [aka stuff that personally doesn’t vibe with me but might work for other people]. and i thought about doing a season by season breakdown but i think that would end up getting WAY too long [like there are SO many specific things i wish they’d done differently in this show goddamn] so i’ll try to focus on some key overarching points here

[cut because HOO BOY did this get long i’m SORRY but also at this point you probably can’t be surprised skdfjndsfks]

First and foremost: let’s talk about race. i think it is one of skam’s biggest blind spots and i also think it’s a weakness that has affected pretty much every single remake thereafter, even [sometimes especially] the ones that have more diverse casts and so for me this is one of skam’s most significant weaknesses. i could honestly write an entire essay on skam’s issues with race [hell season 4 could be an essay in itself!] but i really think it boils down to there being pretty obviously few to no writers of color in the room. it’s not just the lack of diversity in the cast [although let’s count shall we? one main of color across the entire show, one black side character, the majority of side characters of color only appearing in one season... yeah] but it’s also that the characters of color who are on screen are simply not afforded the same care and nuance that the white characters are given.

To be clear i think Sana is an amazing character and i think they accomplished some really important things with her, particularly as one of the few positive and nuanced portrayals of a hijabi that even exist in western media, but - she was only given nine episodes in her own season and even throughout the story the focus was often on the white characters around her [such as Noora]. not even to speak of many tired tropes [the homophobic fake out bw balloon and boy squad? THE ENTIRE BENCH SCENE???] and dropped storylines [Elias’ drinking? balloon squad’s relationship with Even??] throughout the entire thing. NOT EVEN TO SPEAK of the portrayal of characters of color BEFORE season 4 [vilde never properly apologizing for her racism! sana being the one to care for her at the end of season 1!! mahdi being given the least development/depth of the entire boy squad to the point that his most notable line in the entire show is about waffles!!!].

idk man it’s a complicated topic and there are probably much smarter people who have already gone into this in much better detail than i can but this really is one of my biggest issues with skam and the skamverse as a whole. maybe i should just accept that shows like this are not made for people like me, and i should look elsewhere for good representation of teens of color, but idk. i don’t think it’s too much to ask for better from a show that has a reputation for being a show FOR teens, you know what I mean? if skam is a show for teenagers [and it really is one of the better shows for teenagers i’ve ever seen, imho!] it would be nice for it to be a show for teens of color, too.

Another criticism i have of the show as a whole: lack of character continuity b/w seasons. throughout the years i’ve seen many people justify this as being due to point of view, since each main has a very limited and biased perspective. however i feel like this can only account for so much, and for me it’s not really a good excuse for a lack of cohesion in character arcs. for example, eva’s character development being pretty much dropped after the end of her season. just things like that. and honestly as well written as i think s3 is i don’t think it really did the girl squad any favors to have the show suddenly change focus from them for an entire season, to the point where only a few of them made any truly significant appearances in the season.

Another point i can think of: i remember once reading a post someone made about how julie andem + skam writers didn’t seem to know how to tell a compelling story without sex in it [for example sana’s season falling flat bc they struggled to come up with a compelling conflict or way to develop sana and yousef’s relationship bc it had to stay physically platonic], which rings true for me. not to say that teen shows can’t or shouldn’t explore sex. i think it’s really important to show healthy models of romance and sex for teenagers, actually! but i just think it would have been nice if throughout the seasons there had been more focus on other topics, and conflicts stemming from other sources. one example i can think of is that some of the more compelling threads of s2 for me such as the eating disorder subplot and noora’s anxiety in the wake of being sexually assaulted get pretty much entirely subsumed by the romantic storyline. or going back to sana, how instead of focusing on the differences bw her and yousef’s world views the conflict for at least like three episodes ended up coming from yousef making out with noora. just things like that where i wish the romance and the other plotlines could at least coexist together and be assigned equal importance.

And yeah, i agree with you that one topic i wish they had more thoroughly integrated into the show is mental health. of course we have Even and vague hints of Vilde/Noora having eating disorders/anxiety but i think we could all argue that all of the mains at one point or another are coded as mentally ill, but that coding and those symptoms never go anywhere, never lead into more nuanced discussions about mental health. like i don’t think the mental illness coding was intentional but i think that’s all the more reason to get into it, because mental illness has such a profound effect on so many teenagers and they don’t even really know it, you know what i mean? like it would be so powerful to show how pervasive of an issue it is. but that is kind of starting to get into personal nitpick territory i think, so i’ll just leave it at that.

god i still feel like i have so much more i could say skjfnskdjfs [GOD where to even START with season 2] but i’ve been working on this post for long enough so yeah, i should probably stop. i guess my point with this is not that skam is So Very Problematique, and of course i’m just one person and this is all just my personal opinion, and OF COURSE i firmly believe there is no story in this world that is flawless, but more that talking about our criticisms can hopefully lead to more nuanced conversations and stories in the future and that’s partly why i enjoy analyzing stories and what works and what doesn’t so much. thanks for this ask anon, it was [clearly lol] a very thought provoking question =]

#answers #hope i don't ruffle too many feathers with this one rip #but if you disagree on anything feel free to hmu #i clearly enjoy talking about this topic lol #i'm also just realizing that this question also asked me for my thoughts on skam not just my criticism #OOPS #i mean obviously i like skam #would i waste this much time writing about a show i didn't like i mean really #if you want to get my more positive thoughts on skam maybe come back another day anon lol #Anonymous

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luki-fanfic · 5 years ago

Text

KHR/BNHA Fanfic: Role Model Part 1

Sometime last week in the dead of night

My Brain: Hey, you know what?

Me: It’s 2am, why are we not sleeping???

My Brain: If Dabi is Todoroki Touya, then it means he’s a character that was trained for a future role he couldn’t have, that was taken away from him by his father figure due to circumstances outwith his control, was heavily scarred because of it, and as a result; wants to kill said father figure.

Me: …And?

My Brain: …And who would you say that describes almost perfectly?

Me:…

…

No. Nonononono! I do not need another plot bunny setting up shop in my-and we’re already getting out of bed and writing this down before we forget aren’t we?

My Brain: ^_^

Enjoy!

—

Role Model: Part 1

Xanxus would really like to know why, when other Trash screw up, he’s the one who has to pay for it.

Seriously, if it’s not his asshole of a not-Father lying his face off for a decade, it’s the baby-Trash getting flung into the future and knocking out the entire Varia high command for 48 hours while they process an additional decade of memories, or some kind of ramen-eating-God trying to kill his Mist via flame-devouring-pacifiers before he shoves one on Xanxus to do the same.

And people wonder why he has a short temper. He’s a reasonable man! Just give him a mission that doesn’t involve everything he’s ever known getting flung into a blender with a side of magical-crap and tossed 180 degrees in the air. Whatever happened to good old Mafioso shoot outs and negotiation’s over dinner?

…God he misses assassinations pre-flame bullshit. They were so much more fun when he was the only one in the room that knew how to use them.

And now…this.

In the toilet attached to the lavish meeting room he’d found himself in, he leans over the sink and scowls at the face in the mirror. A good decade older than he should be, with red, spiky hair and matching stubble on his chin. Inarguably Asian features, skin paler than his own had ever been, and shoulders like goddamn Levi.

For fucks sake! Now he has to deal with idiot-Trash in other universes screwing him over? This kind of thing is supposed to happen to the Baby-Trash! Not him!

He’s still not entirely sure what happened. One minute, he’s enjoying the last glass of scotch the Bronco-Trash sent over in gratitude for a job well done, the next, his brain’s free falling into nothing. For a brief moment, panic had taken over, and - positive he was being put under the Zero Point again - lashed out the second he could use his arms.

This resulted in him knocking out someone leaning over his body, and when he heard metal smashing against hard floor – two things that shouldn’t have been anywhere near him - his eyes slammed open to reveal the inside of an ambulance, and a very nervous looking medic overlooking him.

“Endeavour, please relax,” he urges in Japanese, trying to retain eye contact as he kneels down to check on his prone partner. “We’re still checking for any other effects from the Villain’s quirk. Do you feel okay? Is there any negative blowback?”

Xanxus just glares at him, trying to piece the words together and wondering why the hell Squalo had called in an ambulance when they have a Quality medical team in the damn mansion, before his eyes catch a glimpse of his legs.

He can’t stop gaping as turns and takes in his full body, pulling up his hands in furious disbelief.

“What the fuck?” he yells, turning them over as if the front will be any less ridiculous.

Xanxus has never, in his life, worn something this humiliating. It’s a skin tight (almost obscenely so), navy blue bodysuit with orange highlights, along with white bracer’s that go up half his arm and a pair of knee high boots – all of which reek like they’ve been hung to dry in a building undergoing an arson attack.

His first thought, is that whatever mist did this is going to pay. Painfully.

“Endeavour, what’s wrong?” the man asks again, only to squawk as Xanxus shoves him with the heavy hand and stumbles to his feet, jumping out the door.

What he sees when he staggers outside the ambulance doesn’t help the situation. While there’s cameras, they don’t look like they’re filming so much as reporting. There’s chaos outside, but the citizens trapped behind yellow tape have him wondering if someone drugged his booze. Horns, wings, two heads…so many people in the crowd are just ‘off’ in a way that doesn’t make sense.

An even deeper glance in front of the tape doesn’t make things any easier. One of the men – he’s assuming police – has a cat head, while there are several men and woman dressed even more ridiculous than he is. One of them is dressed feet-to-nose in fucking denim!

There are so many possible scenarios, and one is not raised by Vongola standards without acknowledging the truly ridiculous. As such, the realisation comes very quickly. This is not his world. Not even remotely.

Denim-Trash is starting to make his way towards him, and he can feel the paramedics staring at his back. His eyes flick down to his hand, and he tries to reach for his flames – searching for the primal rage and right of rule that encompass his entire will.

But there’s nothing. His core feels empty. Not sealed, but rather, just not there. Wherever he is. Whoever he is, flames don’t exist.

No flames.

That…complicates things.

The man in the ridiculous denim getup appraises him.

“You’re not Endeavour, are you?” he says. Xanxus looks him over. Considers his options.

“What makes you say that?” he growls. Denim-Trash raises one eyebrow.

“Endeavour would be screaming blue murder at being put in an ambulance where anyone could see him.”

Well doesn’t ‘Endeavour’ sound like a charmer. Not that Xanxus would act any differently, but he’d never need the fucking ambulance in the first place.

The survivalist in him wants to play along. Bluff his way into solitude until he can figure out what’s happening. But the Boss part of him has already lined up his options. There’s just too many variables here. If he wants home, he’s not going to figure it out alone.

He huffs and crosses his arms.

“No,” he admits. “Looks like somebody royally screwed up.”

Denim-Trash sighs, and runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair.

“And to think, I thought this was going to be a slow week…”

—

He’s immediately ushered to a tall skyscraper not too far away from the incident site, and taken straight to the top floor, where the office of his ‘host’ resides. There, he finds his way to the bathroom he now finds himself in, trying to compose himself while he figures out what the fuck to do. Denim-Trash had handed him off to some kind of support staff, but it had been clear nobody had wanted to answer any questions until they had him contained.

It at least gives him time to recover. He desperately wants a drink, if only so he can throw something at the assholes who are going to come escort him again.

The information he has is limited. There was a phone in his host’s pocket, but without knowing the code it was useless. All he can go on is what he’s seen. This city looks very Japanese, but the people barely qualify as human. And the advertisements are all showing people he doesn’t recognise, who look like they should be hand drawn on the front of the comic books he used to read as a kid.

His flames are also gone, and as far as he can tell, the concept doesn’t exist here. But this outfit was designed to handle fire, and he keeps hearing the word ‘quirk,’ which makes him think there might be something else that substituted on a more mainstream level.

When he hears voices entering the office, he slams the door of the bathroom open and strides into like he’s not dressed like some idiot on a Sentai show. He gives a huff of approval as he takes in the room again – the idiot’s whose body he’s somehow possessing might have awful taste in clothes, but he at least knows what he’s doing with interior decorating.

There are five arrivals when he drops into the plush office seat, and he makes a point to push it away from the computer. Along with Denim-Trash, one of them is dressed worse than he is and looks terrified to be here, while another screams ‘cop’ with his suit. The third is an old woman, who merely cocks her eyebrow as Xanxus glides over the floor in the chair, and at her back is a man about Xanxus’s age, dressed in shapeless black and the world’s ugliest scarf. Seriously, if his Sun was here, that thing would already be aflame, and the world would be better off for it.

He leans on one hand and scowls.

“So?” he asks. “Figured out how to undo this yet, Trash?”

Terrified makes a squeak that reminds him of the Baby-Trash, but it’s Scarf-Trash that steps forward.

“We spoke to the Villain who attacked Endeavour, and tried to deactivate his quirk,” he explains. “Unfortunately, once activated, it can’t be shut off.”

Xanxus files away the term ‘quirk’ for future research, and Cop-Trash starts speaking.

“Three days,” he says. “That’s how long it takes to wear off. Which is three days longer than anyone really wants the number 2 hero out of commission.”

“To be honest, it might be to our benefit,” the old lady adds. “Endeavour is known for burning the candle at both ends, no pun intended. A few days of forced relaxation could be just what he needs. More importantly, I want to know exactly who we’re dealing with in the mean time.”

Xanxus immediately titles her as the smartest person he’s met so far. Nobody else has even thought to ask.

“Yes,” the cop says. “According the registry, his quirk swaps a person’s mind with someone of a similar mindset. However, he also said that quite often, the people he brings do not seem familiar with this world.”

All of them - minus Terrified, who looks like he wants to sink into the floor – face him with curious looks. Scarf-Trash also has a hand on his accessory, while Denim’s fingers are twitching.

“So, who are you?” Scarf-Trash asks. “And what’s your quirk? According to records, it varies on whether or not it follows.”

Xanxus stares back, glaring in challenge. The Cop’s eyes slide away, but the other three match him head on. His lips twitch slightly in respect.

“My name is Xanxus,” he offers. “And where I come from, superheroes belong in comic books. I’ve never heard of ‘quirks’ before today.”

Terrified seems to perk up at that, and the others seem somewhat relieved.

“Well, this world may seem a little strange to you, but I promise you’ll be kept in good hands,” the older woman offers. “And I’m sure Endeavour will try to keep a low profile until his return.”

Xanxus thinks about what would happen if a self proclaimed hero suddenly landed in the middle of the Varia mansion, and can’t fight the snort of laughter that follows. It makes the old woman frown.

“That amuses you?” she asks, and Xanxus grins.

“My world is a lot more dangerous” he tells them. “The criminal underworld is still a thriving commodity, and no quirks, so we don’t have heroes, and don’t look kindly on those that think that’s an option.”

Well, not unless you count a certain brat in Japan who still seems to think he can make the mafia a nice place through the power of friendship…

“It’s a cruel irony,” he continues. “Your Endeavour isn’t going to know what to do with himself. Better not get himself killed before we swap back.”

Their faces go dark at that, and Xanxus allows himself to grin. If it’ll kick their asses into gear and get them to figure out how to get him home quicker, he’ll tell them anything they need to know.

“What about yourself?” Scarf-Trash asks. “Not a hero, and no quirk, what is it you do back home?”

Xanxus quickly amends his earlier thought. Certain things would not go over well in such company, and he’s still not sure how well he can defend himself. It’s probably going to be better for everyone if he doesn’t mention his own personal alliance. He’s sure Endeavour will do a fine job of explaining that once his traumatised ass returns.

“I run a field office that’s part of my adopted father’s company,” he bluffs. “Lot of classified, high pressure, time sensitive work. Not looking forward to having it sit on a desk for 3 days. My employees are going to go mental.”

There’s an understatement. He guarantee’s Levi is already halfway through a mental breakdown, and Squalo will be screaming at whatever idiot made the mistake of walking down the hall. Bel will take the opportunity to go ‘play’ (hopefully not with Xanxus’s body), and Mammon is already charging him for the inconvenience of this whole affair. He’s calling it now.

On the plus side, his audience seem to buy it.

“Well then, Xanxus,” the cop says. “We’ll do our best to get you back as soon as possible. Until then, I hope you’re willing to work with us to mitigate the damage.”

Xanxus rolls his eyes.

“What do you Trash want me to do?”

—

In the end, his jury decide that since Xanxus doesn’t have a quirk, and doesn’t appear to be able to use Endeavours (fire, which makes sense and is something he might see about rectifying while he waits), that they’ll hide him in his host’s home for the three days. The man’s family has already been informed, but if he steps out of line, they’ll be taking him back into custody.

It could be worse, he guesses. He’s in the body of someone important, which means they won’t do anything too damaging to him, and they’re working as fast as they can to get this Endeavour guy back. He doubts he needs to do anything but stand aside and let them work. Since he’s the victim of a quirk and had no say, he’s clearly being treated with kid gloves.

No, the biggest threat to getting home is, ironically, home. If Endeavour is a- oh for fucks sake he can’t believe he’s saying this with a straight face – hero, having him land in Xanxus’s body will not end well for anyone. The Varia are many things, and most of them are obvious – not even the densest man on the planet could look at them and think they were anything but criminals. Which means he might run, and that’ll end badly since he’ll be eyeball deep in Mafia territory and probably try to find, ugh, law enforcement. God willing, his inability to speak the language will convince the Vindice that it’s clearly not Xanxus doing it and keep him out of Vendicare.

Then again, that might be preferable for Endeavour trying to act his way out of it. For all his complaints, his men are Quality, and trained to spot possession and plants. If Squalo or Bel don’t notice something is off within five minutes, Mammon will. The lot of them are crazy, not stupid, which means when he gets back, his body will probably be covered in additional scars from ‘interrogation’ while they try to get him back ‘Varia-Style.’ They definitely won’t call in Vongola’s tech team till they’ve tried their own avenues, and Xanxus just prays they confirm that it’s his body before they let Lussuria bring out his ‘toys.’

He really wants a drink, but he’s expected to keep this body in top condition, and no doubt the man’s family will want their precious hero in one piece, so it’s going to be a long three days unless he can sneak something. Or maybe Endeavour will turn out to be a secret alcoholic and he’ll be just fine. If not, he’s going to need to find something for entertainment, or flame or no flames, something is going to burn.

‘Terrified’ is apparently some kind of support aide for Endeavour’s agency, and is put in charge of handling Xanxus while he hides out. It doesn’t fill him with confidence – the man is definitely used to sitting in the back and giving ‘yes, sir, no sir,’ answers. As such, he’s not putting much stock in the Todoroki family bios the man is awkwardly stuttering out as they drive to his temporary home. It sounds like the blurb for some crappy sitcom. A stay at home wife, two teens, a pre-teen and a brat, all living in harmony. The eldest son was supposed to be following in his fathers footsteps, but had to hold back on applying due to illness. The daughter is a perfect Nadeshiko in training, the next boy is thinking about medical school at fucking 12, and the youngest is already on the path to enter hero school in a few years.

Xanxus is the last person to ask about functioning families, but there’s no way this happy cookie cutter description can be accurate.

The car rolls up to a lavish Japanese style house, and Xanxus gives it an approving nod. He’s always preferred Western design, but he won’t deny quality when he sees it. The security is actually much better than he’d expected too – proper walls and cameras set up in a manner that means he’s missing at least a few.

When they stop, the front door opens to reveal the Todoroki family, and his good mood evaporates. The woman is a twig, hands a little tight on the youngest boy, whose hair would probably make his Sun squeal. Both of them are looking at him with some suspicion. For that matter, so are the pre-teen and the girl. However, to the side…

The oldest boy has a shock of red hair similar to his current body, and while he refuses to meet Xanxus in the eye for more than a few seconds, his body language is clear. He’s relieved.

Interesting.

Terrified has been speaking to the wife while he took in his own impressions, but he turns his attention back when he realises they’re looking at him.

“It’s strange,” the woman says. “You still look so much like him. The expressions are…well, very familiar.”

She gives a strained smile, and Xanxus feels satisfaction curl inside at the pain the woman is hiding.

‘I knew it. This Endeavour fucker isn’t half as honourable as they think.’

“I’m Rei,” she continues, oblivious to Xanxus having read her actions. “We’ll set you up in one of the guest bedrooms for now, is that okay?”

“Is Dad really gone right now?” The pre-teen pipes up, and Rei’s head turns sharply in his direction.

“Natsuo!”

The boy in question pouts.

“What? If he’s gone, that means we can play with Shouto today right? He can’t be trained.”

The youngest, still pinned by Rei’s hands, looks up at his mother with something resembling hope. Her eyes flicker between him and Xanxus, unsure what to say.

“I haven’t got the slightest clue what training Endeavour-Trash was doing,” Xanxus says, making the decision for her. “Do what you want.”

The little brat and the pre-teen both grin, but Xanxus notices the red head turning to look at them-

Oh, now that’s interesting. It’s not there for long, but there’s a very specific array of emotions flashing on the teen’s face when he looks at his youngest sibling. They’re gone almost too quick to notice, but Xanxus caught it all.

He’s the only one though, as the girl takes his comment as an invitation, suspicion fading away as she steps forward and into a quick bow.

“I’m Fuyumi,” she says. “We’ll try to make your stay as comfortable as possible. Is there anything you need?”

A drink and a plane ticket to Italy, Xanxus thinks, but he doesn’t answer, choosing to stare at the boy on the end.

There’s something about the Trash’s appearance that’s bothering him, and he can’t figure out what. His hair is long, definitely grown to hide his face, and he has the personality of a mouse judging from how much effort it takes to get him to raise it for more than a few moments. Every inch of his body is covered, from the turtle-neck down to the combat boots. Given that it’s not a cold day and everyone bar Xanxus is in shorts, it’s probably a style choice. But whenever he does look up, he’s grinning, and trying to hide it – between that and the earlier interaction, Xanxus makes his mind up rather quickly.

“How about a tour of this place?” Xanxus asks, and points at the teen. “Yo, Trash, show me where I’m allowed to go.”

That gets the boy’s head up. “W-what? Me?”

Fuyumi looks a little blind sided, as does Rei, while Natsuo is frowning, but Xanxus just nods.

“Yeah, you,” he says. “That a problem?”

“Touya?” Fuyumi asks, glancing at her other brother, but the teen – Touya, Xanxus tries to remember – just swallows and gives a shaky nod.

“Okay. I can do that,” he says, and gestures with his arm. “Follow me.”

Xanxus grins and does just that, passing the confused family and immediately tossing them out of his mind for now. When they enter the building, the boy risks looking up at him, agitation on his face for the first time.

“Why me?” he asks. “Fuyumi would have done it.”

“I didn’t want Fuyumi-Trash to do it,” Xanxus said. “You’re more interesting.”

Touya’s eyebrows furrow, and Xanxus smiles – the expression slipping off when Touya flinches.

“Your old man, he’s Trash, isn’t he?”

The teen at his side pauses as he walks down the hall.

“He…Endeavour is the Number 2 hero in Japan,” he replies.

“And my old man is one of the most powerful men in the world,” Xanxus counters. “Doesn’t change the fact that he’s a piss poor father”

Ah, there is is. Touya’s lips peel back in a wicked smile for a quick second, and Xanxus goes in for the kill.

“I picked you, because you’re the only one in this family not trying to hide it.”

Another flinch, and then the teen looks up at him, confusion in his eyes. Xanxus faces him head on.

“I saw the look you gave the baby brat, Trash,” he tells him. “Back when he learned he didn’t have to ‘train.’ I might have only gotten the media approved profiles, but I’ve seen this before.”

God has he ever seen it before. Resentment at a sibling, followed by guilt for feeling resentment, finished off with anger at the whole situation. He knows that look well. Before his brother’s died, when the Ninth chose them one after the other instead of him, he wore it on a daily basis.

Before he knew why, and resentment and guilt disintegrated into pure rage.

Touya almost looks guilty, and his eyes are getting wider by the second. Xanxus grins.

Looks like he’s found his entertainment.

“I’ve got three days here, Trash,” he says. “Quality can destroy worlds in one. So why don’t you tell me what’s really going on in this house?”

#Katekyo Hitman Reborn Fanfiction #Boku no hero academia fanfiction #khr x bnha #crossover #fanfiction #fanfic #Role Model #Xanxus #Dabi #Todoroki Touya #KHR #BNHA #TTXanxus didn't want to play ball #So I shoved canon!Xanxus into Endeavour for funsies #dabi is a todoroki

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 5 years ago

Text

Baby You Were My Picket Fence [Chapter 7: Let It Be]

You are a first grade teacher in sunny Los Angeles, California. Ben Hardy is the father of your most challenging student. Things quickly get complicated in this unconventional love story.

Song inspiration: Miss Missing You by Fall Out Boy.

Chapter warnings: Language, ANGST.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing) HERE

A/N: Thank you all so much for the love this fic has received! I hope you continue to enjoy it...the highs and the lows. :) I also wanted to give you a heads up that I am currently in school and that the next year will be pretty intense, so there may be times when I don’t update as frequently as I’d like to. But I will never go on an official hiatus or not finish a series, and you are always welcome to drop me a note asking how the next update is going. Happy reading!

Taglist: @blushingwueen @queen-turtle-boiii @everybodyplaythegame @onceuponadetectivedemigod @luvborhap @sincereleygmg @stormtrprinstilettos @loveandbeloved29 @ohtheseboysilove @jennyggggrrr @vanitysfairr @bramblesforbreakfast @radiob-l-a-hblah @xox-talia-xox @killer-queen-xo @caborhapch @kimmietea @asquiresofftime @hardzzellos @sleepretreat @ramibaby @jonesyaddiction @ixchel-9275 @omgitsearly @lovepizza-cake11 @deacy-dearest @shishterfackisback @mrbenhardys @deaky-with-a-c @whitetrashdarling @stephanie-everlasting @brianprobablywill @dancingstan @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @abigfatmess @hufflepuff-khaleesi @sara-1705 @thigh-your-mother-down @chlobo6 @danamaleksworld @painkiller80 @teenwolflover28 @jazzman-19 @lucyplaysguitarandcellobitch Please let me know if I forgot anyone!!

You slam the door behind you and sink to the kitchen floor. Your hands are trembling, your chest heaving, your vision blurring as tears ripple across your eyes. You don’t remember what you said to her, to the siren, to the sublime woman you’re still struggling to comprehend is Ben’s fiancée; something insipid and vague, something brief. You don’t remember leaving Trader Joe’s or driving home. Your shopping cart is still full and unattended in the produce section, waiting powerlessly to be retrieved, ice cream slowly melting and dripping through sagging paperboard containers.

“He’s getting married,” you gasp almost inaudibly between ragged breaths. You glance up at the refrigerator. The magnets still spell those two innocent little words: I’m sorry.

You rip your potted artificial calla lily off the counter and hurl it at the refrigerator; magnets and ceramic shards fly in every direction like shrapnel.

“He’s getting fucking married!” you scream to your empty house.

You bury your face in your hands and sob with maddening helplessness. You fell for it. Some outlandishly-too-good-to-be-true British movie star dropped out of the sky and you were stupid enough to believe he loved you, that someone like him ever could. You fell for it like a mammoth into tarpits, roped in viscous darkness and with nowhere to go but down.

And then you hear a jarringly cheery ringtone. You clutch for your purse and tear out your iPhone. The name on the screen is Ben Hardy.

“No fucking way,” you hiss, and decline the call. It occurs to you—gnaws away at you—that just enough time has passed for them to have finished shopping, picked up Eli from Ben’s mother’s apartment, arrived home; just enough time for Ben to have slickly dismissed himself, disappeared to his Lexus or some other shadowy corner somewhere, a dim clandestine place to deal with dirty secrets. And that’s exactly what I am: the unhallowed mistress, an unspoken ghost in the haunted crevices of a marriage, a black stain on a white dress.

Your phone, face-down on the countertop, rings every two to three minutes like clockwork. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hands and try to collect yourself: stagger to your feet, pour a glass of the Patrón tequila—straight, no ice—that you keep on the top shelf, drop a vinyl on the record player. Take It Easy by The Eagles floats through the thick, stifling air. You glare at the green calla lily that lays limply on the kitchen floor, its petals bent precariously yet still intact.

“Die, bitch,” you whisper bitterly. But of course, it doesn’t die; the calla lily is fake, just like your relationship with Ben, just like all the things he said to you. It’s a lie. It’s eternal. You snatch the lily off the floor and toss it into the trashcan.

There’s a sound outside—the humming of an engine, the rustling of footsteps—and then frantic banging so forceful your door quivers on its hinges. “Y/N!” Ben shouts from outside, still rapping on the white-painted wood. “It’s me, it’s Ben, let me in.”

“Never in your life,” you hurl back, furious at how hoarse your voice sounds: like someone who’s been crying, like someone pathetic and wounded and weak. You feel like a fox caught with its leg in a steel trap, the flesh split down to the bone and glistening with ruby gore, the hunter looming voyeuristically with his hands on his waist and a rifle slung over one broad shoulder.

“Please, please let me in, just let me explain—”

“Fuck off!”

“You deserve an explanation,” Ben says, more measured now. “Let me give you that.”

That knocks some of the rage out of you, replacing it with curiosity, unsurety, temptation. You don’t know what you deserve, but you do crave an explanation. And part of me still wants to see him.

“Five minutes, that’s all I’m asking for.” His words are patient, suppliant. The Eagles record spins as the moments tick by.

At last, you cross the kitchen and open the door. Ben slips inside as you step away until your back hits the refrigerator. You remember the last time you were in this room together; it hangs between you like spiderwebs, invisible but ensnaring, interlaced threads just waiting to be walked into.

“Hi,” he says softly, almost whispers. Then his gaze flicks around the kitchen, to the magnets and ceramic debris littering the floor, to the tequila, to the record player, to you. And you almost feel sorry for Ben, almost; because his once-clear eyes—malachite or emerald or peridot or jade, you think impulsively—are red and swollen, his shoulders wilted, his expression shell-shocked. He looks like hell. But you probably do too. “Babe...I...” He comes towards you.

“Don’t touch me.”

He backs away immediately, raising his hands in surrender. The silence is heavy and ominous.

Finally, you ask: “Who is she?”

Ben sighs, rubbing his chin distractedly with one thumb. “Her name is Santina Nicolosi.”

Your eyes close like drawn curtains. “Of course it is.” You know that name, you’ve taught Nicolosi kids before. The Nicolosis are a vast family with old roots in Hollywood, producers and actors and directors, ostentatiously wealthy, omnipotent. The kind of people Ben should be associating with. The kind of women he should be marrying. “Is she a model?”

“An actress.”

“Jesus christ,” you moan. And then, before you can stop yourself: “Why, Ben?”

“It’s hard to explain, it’s complicated, it’s...” He gestures vaguely with his hands, his beautiful hands. Hands that will never touch me again. “We haven’t...we...we were really young when we had Eli, and it hasn’t been easy, it’s been off and on, and we disagree on virtually everything...but I...” He wrenches it out. “I’m an adult, I have to take responsibility, I have to try to make it work. For Eli.”

You scoff. “Yeah, I’m sure living with gorgeous Santina Nicolosi and her barrels of money and inexhaustible industry influence is a real goddamn curse.”

Ben says nothing.

You swallow, your voice cracking. “So this is what you do, you find someone brainless and naïve and ordinary to screw around with, and then when you’re bored of that you go home to your actress-slash-heiress fiancée—”

“I’ve never done this before.”

“You fucking liar,” you seethe.

Incredibly, he laughs, a quick caustic sound. “I didn’t lie to you.”

“I get that ‘not in the picture’ could be open to some interpretation but there is no alternate universe in which it means engaged to.”

“I didn’t lie to you about the rest of it.”

You shake your head in fury, in persistent waves of shock. “I can’t believe this, I really can’t believe this, and I...oh god, I...I still have to see you, because I teach your son...” You’re sobbing again, you’re falling to pieces, you’re fracturing like thin ice under reckless feet.

Ben tries to reach for you. “Please don’t—”

“Don’t touch me, you, you...” There’s no word for what he is, there’s nothing malevolent enough.

He points at you as his voice leaps louder, more wrathful. “Don’t you say it, don’t you dare call me a demon!”

“You are!” you scream at him. “You are a fucking demon, you are a monster, you are the worst thing that ever happened to me!”

Now Ben has nothing to offer in reply. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, frowns at the floor, chews on his lower lip in that absentminded, nervous way that he does. “I’m so sorry,” he says simply.

“Thanks, I’m whole again,” you fling like a dagger.

He flinches, and again you’re struck by his palpable distress, his vulnerability. But that didn’t stop him from cheating, lying, making me love him, cracking my ribs open so he could rip my fucking heart out. “I...”

“Get out,” you snap.

“I’m sorry, I really am. I won’t make this any harder for you than it is already. I won’t bother you again.”

“Perfect,” you whisper, your lips trembling. He needs to leave, he needs to leave NOW, I can’t let him see me crumble again.

Ben opens the door. “I hope—”

“Just get out!”

He nods in resignation, steps outside, disappears into the fading afternoon sunlight. And you’re alone in so many more ways than one.

You bite back tears as you pace through the kitchen, struggling to compose yourself, desperate to forget. Then your eyes catch on the artificial calla lily in the trashcan. It’s pointless to throw it away, you realize. There’s no end to it; even if it’s collected with the refuse, even when goes to the landfill. It won’t decompose, it won’t disappear. If anything, it’ll just end up choking a dolphin or sea turtle to death. You fish it out and lay it on the counter.

“I don’t want to let you go,” you say to the green calla lily, to nobody at all.

I have to heal from this. I have to get over Ben Hardy. I have to move on.

But you’ve already forgotten what your life looks like without him.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s Saturday. You shuffle out of your bedroom with a blanket draped over your shoulders like armor, your eyes sore and aching, your thoughts a fog. You’ve slept for approximately ninety total minutes. You scowl at the couch.

“Stupid debaucherous sex-couch of shame,” you mutter. That’s supposed to be funny, but it doesn’t feel that way; it feels sad and pitiful and raw. You plop down in your lounge chair instead, pulling your knees to your chest, flipping through the channels until you find a special about the Cretaceous Period on HBO.

After an hour, your phone rings. It’s Joe Mazzello. You’ve saved him in your contacts as Zappy Zap Dino Boi. Tipsy Y/N is an interesting character. “Hello?”

“Hey, Sweet Caroline!” His voice is bright, bubbly, effervescent.

“Ahh. You remembered that.”

“I wasn’t nearly as turnt as you were. We still on for baseball?”

Are we? You don’t want reminders of Ben, you don’t want any links to his world; you want to forget he exists entirely. But you like Joe—or, at least, you had at The Edison—and you can’t help but notice that he’s already lightening your spirits, evaporating gloom like rain off pavement. “Yeah, totally.”

“Is tomorrow afternoon gucci?”

Oh my god, he’s one of those people who says gucci. “You are definitely not as cool as drunk-me thought you were.”

Joe cackles through the phone. “Is it okay if I bring a friend?”

“Ben?” you ask reflexively.

“No, not him. Ben’s got work in London. Why?” His interest is piqued. Oh no.

“No reason. That’s fine with me. Your friend is gucci.”

Joe chuckles again. “Text me your deets and I’ll pick you up.”

“Sounds like a plan, dinosaur kid.”

“Also: the friend is not Jeff Goldblum. Don’t get too excited. Don’t show up with whipped cream and lingerie.”

You laugh, your first laugh in nearly twenty-four hours, a loud genuine laugh that starts deep in your belly. “I’m devastated.”

“See you soon, amica.”

“Bye, Joe.” You hang up and stare at the ceiling. This is fine. This is sensible. This is only going to lead to good things.

Right?

~~~~~~~~~~

“Strrrrrike seven!” Joe announces cheerfully. He’s wearing shorts and a red baseball jacket that he says is from a film he wrote and directed called Undrafted. It’s an even eighty degrees outside and breezy; the strands of dark hair that jut out from under Joe’s cap are fluttering in the wind. The sky is clear, unmarred cerulean. You had been anxious before Joe’s Subaru rolled into your driveway, steeping in your dusky house and your own misery, second-guessing the point of friendship, of love, of everything; yet the moment you slid into Joe’s backseat all of that vanished. You adore this eccentric little man, you had realized with relief, even when there’s no alcohol involved.

“This is so sad,” you say, twirling the bat in your hands. “This is absolutely pathetic. I am an embarrassment to America.”

“Maybe Joe’s pitching is the problem,” Gwilym suggests helpfully from where he’s crouching over home plate.

“Uhhhh, rude, Gwilym!” Joe shouts.

You glance back at Gwil. “That’s very kind of you, but I’m pretty sure it’s me.”

Gwil stands, the ball still snug in his mitt, and pulls off his catcher’s mask. “Joe,” he calls, “take it down a few notches. Toss it underhand. Nice and easy.”

“Fine.” Joe snatches the baseball out of the air when Gwil lobs it to him.

You turn back to Gwil, shielding your face from the sun with one hand. “Is this getting too painful to watch?”

He smiles benignly, reassuringly, but his eyes are nervous. They’re an intense royal blue, you note; like the ocean, like the sky. Like Eli’s, like Santina’s. That’s a thought you push away with both hands. “No, no, not at all. You aren’t far from the mark, actually. You’re just swinging a second too soon. But if Joe slows down and you figure out a rhythm, get your comfort level up...you’ll be batting three-hundred in no time.”

You chuckle, bouncing the bat against your sneakers. “I highly doubt that, Mr. Lee. But we’ll do it your way. They don’t have baseball in the U.K., do they?”

“Cricket and football, mostly.”

“Who do you root for?”

He grins, more brashly now. “The Welsh.”

“Hey,” Joe yells. “Is the pep talk over yet? Are you ready for me? I’m aging out here. I suddenly love rice pudding and can’t figure out how cellphones work.”

“Don’t rush her!” Gwil replaces his catcher’s mask.

“You’re Welsh, aren’t you, Gwil?” you ask.

“I am, happily so.”

“I just taught my kids what Wales was last week! It took a solid fifteen minutes to get past the large marine mammal connotation. They voted that Scotland was cooler.”

“Freaking tiny American savages!”

“Hey!!” Joe waves his arms theatrically. “I exist!”

“Go ahead,” you accede, taking position and raising the bat over your shoulder. Gwil squats just behind home plate again.

“You have more time than you think you do,” he says softly. Joe pitches the ball underhand, and it floats slowly through the air as your gaze tracks it. “Not yet,” Gwil whispers to you. “Not yet, not yet, not yet...NOW!”

You swing, your eyes pinched shut, bracing for the weightless whistle of open air. Instead, there’s the jolt of an impact, a cracking sound...and Gwil’s ecstatic cheer.

“Holy shit!” Joe cries, his eyes following the ball across the field. “You hit something! You actually hit a ball!”

“Yes!” Gwil throws off his mask and pumps his fist in the air. “I told you, I told you that you could do it!”

“I did it!” You spin around and—spontaneously, without thinking at all—you leap onto your tiptoes and toss your arms around Gwil’s neck. “You saved me! I’m a proper American now!” And for one fleeting moment, there’s no Ben Hardy anywhere in your mind, there are no trapdoors of agony like cold pockets in a lake, frigid paralyzing blackholes just itching to drag you down. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Of course,” Gwil says uneasily, his arms hesitantly circling around you. You back away as Joe comes jogging over, clasping the conquered baseball.

“Not bad, Carolina Panther! Should we celebrate? In-N-Out Burger?”

“Carolina...Panther...?” Gwil echoes.

“It’s a Sweet Caroline joke. Joe’s mocking me. Per usual.”

“You really weren’t that bad a singer,” Joe teases with a grin. “Obviously I enjoyed meeting you. Where did you say you knew Ben from...?” He’s trying to act casual, but you can tell he’s been waiting for an opportunity to ask that question. And you’re trying too: trying not to cringe at the sound of Ben’s name, trying not to let on that it rips you in two.

“I actually teach his son Eli, he’s in my first grade class.”

“Aww, how precious!” Joe gushes. “And...you and Ben...are you, uh...like, a thing...?”

Not since I found out about his fucking fiancée. “No, definitely not a thing. Just friends. I actually don’t even know if you’d call us friends, maybe just acquaintances.” Maybe just mortal enemies. You narrow your eyes at Joe. “You know he’s getting married, right?”

“Is that still happening?” Gwil asks Joe.

“Yeahhhh,” Joe sighs dramatically. “Santina.” He pronounces each syllable of her name distinctly, like it’s a newly discovered breed of insect or a rare element on the Periodic Table.

“What’s wrong with Santina?” You’re channeling all your effort into seeming indifferent.

Joe rolls his eyes, tossing the baseball between his hands. “What isn’t wrong with Santina.”

Gwil snorts in agreement, slapping his catcher’s mitt against his thigh to chase the dust away.

“So...” Joe prompts. “In-N-Out Burger? What do you say, Sweet Caroline? I’ll buy, but only on the condition that you get me back when you’re in the MLB one day.”

“I will gladly accept those terms.”

You all pile into Joe’s Subaru, and Gwil isn’t riding shotgun this time; instead, he climbs into the back with you. The In-N-Out Burger is packed, so you eat in the car with the air conditioning blasting and the radio blaring A Night At The Opera. And somehow you find yourself laughing hysterically as Joe tries to sing Bohemian Rhapsody with his mouth full of cheeseburgers, as Gwil spills a chocolate shake all over his expensive plaid golf pants, as you share your animal fries with Gwil and he shoves two under his lips like walrus tusks; somehow, you find yourself barely thinking of the suffocating grief that’s been hovering over you at all.

But when you inevitably have to go home—when your kitchen door clicks shut and you’re left alone with your randomly-arrayed fridge magnets and your piercing memories and your undying green calla lily—suddenly it feels like there’s nothing in the world worth thinking about but Ben.

~~~~~~~~~~

Usually you have to wait until lunch or special to check your phone, but today the kids have an assembly about preventing forest fires. Only in Los Angeles.

While Sasha keeps a watchful eye on your class, you sneak away to catch up on grading. As you pluck your favorite red pen out of your teacher bag with your left hand, you tap your iPhone screen with your right. It’s 11:05 in the morning. You have seven new texts, all from Gwil.

9:21 a.m.: Good morning, love!

9:44 a.m.: Wow wow wow that was meant for someone else, please disregard.

9:51 a.m.: Okay I lied, that was meant for you, I am just hilariously bad at asking people on dates.

9:54 a.m.: ...Will you go on a date??

9:55 a.m.: With me, clearly.

10:11 a.m.: Bleeding christ I am the worst, please ignore me if you have any taste whatsoever.

10:35 a.m.: Brb swimming back to Britain in disgrace.

At first, you’re too stunned to do anything but blink senselessly at the phone: Gwil likes you? Do you like Gwil? Gwil is sweet, of course, he’s handsome and charming and successful and everything a lover should be. But Ben is immutable; he’s the stars, he’s the sawtoothed ocean floor, he’s the blood cells splitting in your bone marrow. There are parts of you that won’t ever be free of him.

Ben isn’t here. Maybe he wasn’t ever really here. And he is never coming back.

You text to Gwil: Let’s do this.

#ben hardy #ben jones #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fic #borhap fic #borhap cast #borhap fanfiction #gwilym lee #gwilym x reader #baby you were my picket fence #bywmpf #baby you were my picket fence series

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