#i am using a lot of exclamation points to fight my awkwardness!

[garglyswoof]

🍁You are fabulous. Tell me something happy about this week, then pass this on to five more people. Happiness for everyone!! 🍁

Uhhh

*deer in headlights*

I worked with someone this week that paused during the middle of our working session and said "you know, this company really needs more people like you. You just care about the people you work with, and it shows." I wanted to cry?

[sidhewrites]

Chapter 10! We are once again making liberal use of the bracket method to keep writing momentum up. Also, I accidentally gave Kaz adhd whoops

Project Info

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[Change time skip to a month so kaz has more time to get to know lucy and Josie has more time to be weirded out by ren but since she n kaz can’t stop fighting it means that things keep getting weird]

When Josie's schedule finally lines up with mine, another two weeks had gone by. Renfield, though perfectly healthy, was still acting off, so she was uncomfortable leaving him alone any longer than necessary. I don’t love going over there again, but if it means I can get rid of her stuff once and for all, then so be it. 

Josie’s apartment is an extension of her own sense of style. She’s painted the walls a deep violet, with black accents and old furniture she’s sourced from work. Incense and cat fur mix to give her place a distinctly unique scent. I used to hate it, but I also used to think cats are assholes who only want to bite you and murder things until Josie taught me that a cat wagging its tail means the opposite of a dog doing the same.

"Has the vet said anything new?" I ask as Josie lets me in the door. She steps back, giving me enough space to get into the front hallway. I force myself not to remember all the times I pressed her up against one of the walls and kissed her neck over the past year and a half, make myself think of the countless late nights arguing, the weeks of silence. Old habits die hard, and I'll bury them alive if I have to.

[conversation and transition]

Josie trails off, gaze drifting over my shoulder. I turn to see what she's looking at, and snort. Renfield had kicked his bed off the little table in front of the window, and stood on it now, raised up on his two hind legs. He seemed to be surveying the view, judging it, and finding it wanting.

"Aww, he looks like an old man."

"Don't," she pouts.I pull a face. "Get off my lawn right meow!"

[Transition]

Another week passes before I hear from Josie again. I'm in my apartment, doing my best to focus on homework when the siren call of social media is so close at hand. My attention is ruined entirely, however, when I feel the sting of seeing her name pop up in my notifications.

She sent me a text with more exclamation points then I have piercings. Tomorrow!!!! We're gonna be famous!!!!! Aaaaaa! She follows up with a link to an announcement on the Haunted Archivist's social media feed, reminding everyone that the video drops at 9pm EST.

I frown at the screen.

Another text comes in before I can respond: Let's watch it together. I'll get the projector set up and everything.

I feel sick. I'm about to put the phone on silent when a third message comes through.

Uh. Actually.

Thank god I don't have to break it to her. I don't have the patience for her accidental guilt tripping tonight.

Sorry. That's probably awkward to suggest. Maybe not...

But please watch it! You're in it, so you should see that part at least!

Yeah, Jose. Now that you mention it, it is really awkward to invite the person you used to date over to watch a video about the very thing we fight about constantly. I groan at the screen. She's going to start apologizing now, because she can't help it, and I'm going to get mean, and it'll just keep going around in circles.

Sorry, she texts again, because I haven't responded, which obviously means I'm angry at her. Which, I mean, I am, but it's just because she's doing this and I've lost patience for it over the years.

The texts keep coming in, and my phone buzzes and buzzes.

Just forget I said anything. That was really stupid of me. Maybe you should watch it with your new girlfriend?

I mean if you call her girlfriend. Sorry. I don't know if you guys have a label or not. It's not my place to judge, you seem to like her a lot, and I want you to be happy

I've had enough.

Shut up.

[They argue, until Kaz gives in and agrees to watch with Josie. Once they've agreed on plans:]

I throw the phone across the room.

I hate her. I hate myself for hating her. Josie has never been anything but kind to a fault, and it's not something she deserves to be hated for. She's probably crying now, too.

I hate myself for making her cry. I hate her for crying. I hate this whole damn thing.

I get up to retrieve my phone, and go get a pint of ice cream before going back to my homework. There's an exam at the end of the month, and I'm not about to let my grades slip any further than they usually do. Phan would kill me, or at least sigh at me which is just as bad. But my mind keeps drifting, first to Josie, then to Lucy, then to how stupid I'm being about this whole thing with Lucy. It still hurts to talk to her, but we also can't go more than twenty minutes without fighting no matter how hard we try to be civil. For every semester the past two years, we shared at least one class in our schedule, which meant I always had someone I could rely on to help me focus, or at least to loan me their notes when my mind inevitably wandered too far and I spent the whole hour thinking about god-knows-what.

It's good for both of us that we're sitting on opposite sides of the lecture hall now, but I can't help but feel the emptiness besides me, where our elbows used to bump against each other, where we'd tap our toes together in little secret acts of affection.

[Make the transition smoother so that she's basically venting to lucy who listens sympathetically that night and suggests maybe not talking to her again. Lucy is so understanding and sympathetic, and Kaz looks at her like she hung the moon.]

Something is gonna go wrong here, with this. With us. Whatever we are. I know it will, if only because I'm so steeped in self-loathing and doom to consider anything else.

[Transition]

But dawn is breaking. Lucy has to go. I don't even have work today, but I drag my sorry ass to a coffee shop anyway, and drown my sorrows in caffeinated sugar and scones.

Tag List

@adaughterofathena

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@feather-dancer

@halfbloodlycan

@nadunacreates

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@vigilantdesert

[sportyclown]

how sawamura, miyuki, yuki, and kuramochi text (friends + s/os)

will most likely do a part 2 with more boys at a later date! these got freakishly long because i am, at my core, a very mad. also might revisit as i get re-familiar with the characters, i just had this idea floating around in my head. also the way these got pro

sawamura eijun

no matter who he texts, it’s always extremely extra. not only does he always give more information than you asked for – ex. if you text him wya? he will give you a play by play of his entire route or something

 he also uses tons of emoticons. and yes I do mean emoticons, baby boy has a flip phone. ifhe does eventually get a smart phone, then this boy overuses tf out of emojis. he’s the sort of person that sees someone use a combination of emojis he likes and then tries to copy them, but uses it completely incorrectly, but its v cute.

if you send him a meme, he will respond with an unnecessary amount of hahas. 

when he’s texting his lil bae, they’re always on his mind so he ofc texts them every thought that comes to his mind! when he sees something that reminds him of you, he won’t hesitate to share it with you. 

if you have been together for a long time, then we will definitely text you words of affirmation and be very honest/blunt about how he feels about you. he’s also always sure to ask you about your day - and he seriously cares. but i still i feel like with a s/o he would prefer facetime to texting just because he likes to see you :)

overall, a very adorable texter and his enthusiasm is just as contagious when texting as it is in person. he’s kind of clueless so he doesn’t pick up on subtext. so be blunt, just like he will be with you~

kuromochi youichi

my bias might be showing here, but I feel like he is one of the most well-adjusted boys in terms of being ready for a serious relationship tbh (at least post-high school). i mean we all saw that he regularly corresponded with wakana wish that were me lmao

i think he would most often use proper capitalization, but not to the point where he uses a period after every text

would send his friends news articles about his favorite fighting games where u like gaming or not

a meme fiend in general. the sort of person who uses reaction images of people he knows. (if you’re dating, he would still have a stash of funny pics/screenshots of you on ft, but he’d ofc only use them with you <3). his convos with his friends are rarely serious

 i don’t think he’d be the type to text haha out loud, but he does use LOL on occasion. with close friends/his lil bae he might send a voice memo of him laughing hysterically if you send him something REALLY funny. ugh my annoying king <3

unlike eijun he’s the king of being perceptive / picking up subtext. 

similarly, i do think he’s pretty reliable, but for friends i feel like he might make a lil bit of a stink lmao. like lets say a friend wants him to pick something up for them, he might play like he won’t do it then miraculously shows up with the requested item. its giving tsundere vibes on the low.

with his partner: i feel like he would use emojis when he’s trying to be ~cute~. i think with a established partner he’d be pretty flirty still but he’s v much whipped for his partner so its way more mushy than it would be early in the relationship.

yes your name has hearts/stars in his phone. mans is a SAP for you

his love language is more quality time imo, so I think he values time spent with you over texting time. so a lot of your texts might be asking you to come over to hang out / get a meal or vice versa

like eijun he wants to hear about YOU, and is very supportive and good at advice when he wants to be. he can be goofy but this is how he shows you he cares/sees you as more than a friend

he’s a blushy/shy boy with his s/o esp early in the relationship, so he might be hesitant or nervous to say “i love you” or anything like that outright, but you know anyway, which just makes the times when he does outright say it that much sweeter.

miyuki kazuya

i mean it goes without saying that this man is snarky. he’s not a meme king himself but he enjoys when people send them to him and will usually play off the meme to make his own jokes.

i feel like he also likes deep-fried memes or the very abstract, post-modern memes. miyuki is good at making other people laugh, but he has a generally very-off brand humor and the things that make him cackle hardest are either at someone else’s expense (very similar to kuramochi, so they bond a lot over that) or just indiscernible without access to a huge layer of context/background

saves the reaction photos kuramochi sends him, but doesn’t usually use them. but seeing an ugly pic of eijun yelling never fails to make him grin LMAO

i think he also texts A LOT about baseball, even more so than these other baseball dummies. texts his teammates a lot of articles he reads or clips from games/cool plays. this is mostly about texts, but in terms of social media I think miyuki uses twitter/instagram the most especially for baseball related reasons, while kuramochi uses snapchat the most. 

he probably texts a lot about baseball as well, both seriously and playfully

i can see him using hahas and LOLs in equal measure, but he would also utilize the haha reaction if he had an iphone. this boy does value his wit so he would definitely have commentary about any memes or jokes he’s sent

you won’t win a joke war against him, he will definitely one-up whatever you send him with either a one-liner or another joke. how tf does he do it?

definitely ignores people/conversations if he really wants to - but ofc he never does that to his BAE

if miyuki give you a dry one-line response...he’s not interested at all or he’s feeling frustrated about something else. but when he’s really happy? he will text his friends all the time and spam them! i see him as someone who enjoys texting when he has the attention span/state of mind for it. and when he’s texting his s/o his texting gets even more ~flavorful~

wit his lil bae: i don’t think miyuki would switch it up much w his s/o. is probably even more teasing with you over text than he is with his friends, which is saying something.

like talking with you just by nature of you being his partner. prob prefers texts to facetime because text kinda allows for maximum snark

he LIVES for you guys’ witty back and forth 

if he’s traveling for work or something, will definitely relish in you guys binge texting a tv show or something but just making funny commentary (or he’ll just send you funny commentary to get a reaction)

 he can dish it and he’s also not a super sensitive guy so he can take it tenfold from you as well. nothing y’all wouldn’t be used to when talking in person!

sometimes when texting him you’ll want to beat his a*s because he can be so cheeky but its endearing in a way. he definitely adds emojis to the end of his more annoying messages to give it that loveable vibe (and it works ofc, we love u miyuki)

he’s kinda clingy on the low so i think he’d prefer a partner that’s more open with their affection via text than he is. he would live for your random ilys or whatver throughout the day. also would not mind at all if you updated him on your actions throughout the day or sent him snaps - might not be able to respond to everything, but will react and appreciate it. very likely to make jokes about whatever you’re doing.

would also apologize over text. he’s not always used to apologizing can be awkward about it, so text makes it easier for him.

he would use emojis w you in a joking/ironic way. would absolute use those dumb but genius emoji combinations

yuki tetsuya

i’m literally cracking up thinking about texting him. he is one of my ultimate baes but im sorry i just know he texts dry asf. but its part of his charm!

has a flip phone. either never upgrades or gets the chunkiest most basic android if he is forced to

the thing is this man thinks that he is infusing all his texts with, like, tajin level seasoning, when in reality its pepper

uses punctuation. always. exclamation marks are used sparingly to express excitement.

but i can’t get the image out of my head of an upset tetsuya texting you a simple angry emoji (or the angry emoticon >:( LOL) if he’s reeeeeeally mad. but its v cute i can’t take him seriously. i just want to give him a hug <3

 but you know what he is so PASSIONATE about whatever he’s talking about that his passion bleeds into his text through sheer quantity of words and depth of thought. ultimately, all his conversations end up being extremely flavorful in terms of content. he is surprisingly good at having deep conversations over text.

he’s better at holding conversations with more extroverted personalities, truthfully.

he’s another one who sends random things to people when he thinks about them. miyuki of course gets so many texts/thoughts about shogi. if you get a random haiku, poem, or quote from testu, that means you’re blessed enough to be in his inner circle! he definitely thought of you when he read it and and wants you to respond!

with bae: he doesn’t really change up his texting style tbh, but he has a stronger outward reaction to what YOU text in response.

definitely the type to smile almost imperceptibly at his phone as he texts you, even if you send him something like “hey i’m at the store, want anything?”

he’s not great as verbal affection early in the relationship, so you’ll have to discern his love/affection. however baby boy is NOT afraid to just straight up say he loves you, he does it all the time and early.

he’s KNOWN for being reliable and responsible, so he will be at your beck and call when he’s able to for anything you need, but his heart is also warmed by the thought of you reciprocating that care. if your texts show him you’re thinking of him just like he does too. he’s very gentle and sweet, and checks up on you when he’s able to see if you need anything at all.

he might be reliable, but that doesn’t mean that he’s the quickest guy to respond to texts. he’s a busy guy, and he doesn’t think about his phone all the time, but he will always get back to you (bae does not play when it comes to completing things).

if they came up with a shogi game for gamepidgeon and tetsu had an iphone, your phone probably would be spammed with requests for games lol.

this is my first time doing headcanons like this so please let me know what you think or give me tips on how to improve! I really enjoying thinking about it so I hope to do more in the future <3

[happyvoidharmony]

Girls’ night gone bad

@ hey-youu-pssss I got your first request (or at least the thing we were both thinking of). Hope you like it !

Request : Gajil or Cana finding out about Laxus and Mirajane during the Grand Magic Games.

The bar was stacked.

The blond young woman had to play with her elbows to find a way through the crowd of people that separated her from the table she shared with her friends. They all had found a way to come. Organizing girls’ night only got more difficult now that the guild had regained its reputation and became even more popular during the year after its reunion. The mission board was even sometimes too small to contain all the requests coming in. Even the town’s reputation had gone up bringing all kinds of new bars and shops.

That was why this night was so special for the women. All of them had agreed to take the night off, so they could have a real girls’ night instead of drinks in small groups every now and then. Only Mirajane was missing because she had to close the guild first, even if it was earlier than usual. Wendy and Charuru had however decided not to come because the girl was still underage and didn’t want to hold the others from going into clubs and preferred going to Marguerite to hang out with Chelia. No matter how much they had tried to change her mind. The girl was obviously getting more stubborn and assertive with the years.

So far, it was going great. They all talked about their jobs, their teams and their kind-of-relationships, all pretty weird, except maybe Levy��s, but she was bound to drink lemonade for a few more months so she wasn’t really bragging. Unsurprisingly, every one of them stayed true to herself, Cana was making unnecessary comments about their love lives, Lisanna liked juicy gossiping, Levy was the more critical one, Juvia spent her time blushing and sometimes innocently ask very awkward questions, while Kinana giggled and Erza stuttered a few words to get more details, as Evergreen sighed and told them they were quite childish without being able to contain the light of interest in her eyes.

She was quite awkward too. She couldn’t helped being a bit embarrassed by some very private details about Levy’s or Kinana’s private lives that Cana dragged out of them. Lisanna, however, didn’t need anyone to share a little too much on the dates she had started going on with Bickslow, at everyone’s surprise a few months ago now. Thankfully, Mirajane was still missing when Lucy finally joined the table and blushed when she understood the white haired young woman was comfortably saying they had spent two days without going out of bed.

She took a slight sip after distributing the drinks to everyone. Cana was indeed asking if his totems had stayed awake the whole time, because that was indeed kind of kinky, while Lisanna strongly denied and exclaimed she would never do something so disturbing to “babies”, she wanted to be a decent girlfriend. Evergreen only sighed and asked if they had spent the whole time deciding what color to paint them and didn’t change anything as usual. Lucy couldn’t help but notice she seemed to be more comfortable with this conversation.

“Well, we thought about going with blue this time but we decided to take an extra month to prepare the babies for that.” Lisanna explained very seriously as some of them chuckled.

The constellationnist giggled as the gaze of her friend became more determined to truly explain why blue was a realyl big step for them. The thunder tribe’s woman only sighed before starting her new mojito, the young woman became once more anxious about time. Stating once again that her sister should already be here.

“I just hope she didn’t find something to sort out or she might never come.” She giggled while drinking.

“Painting and sorting, you sisters do know how to throw a party.” Evergreen only said with a once more long sigh.

“If we’re so boring, then maybe you should stop hanging with us and eating all the toasts in the morning.”

The woman’s cheeks got rapidly covered in red as the younger one calmly drank and ignored her offended stare with a big playful smile across hers.

“Maybe Mira got stuck with something to clean.” Levy tried, in order to break the slight tension as the other girls only chuckled to this unsurprising news.

“Maybe somebody came by and she didn’t find a way to kick him out.” Lucy tried to help out her friend while the two women slowly got less interested in one another.

“Maybe Laxus came by and they found some babies to paint blue.” Cana suddenly dropped out.

The silence tumbled over them, if not covered by Erza’s almost choking on her drink on the overwhelming yelling of the bar. The brunette looked around her with a proud smile on her face. It was true that joke had been kind of funny to the blond but the awkwardness of it made it impossible to express more than an embarrassed smile as it seemed to be the same for the others.

She had heard the rumors about them. Everyone had. Some of them believed them more than others, but they mostly escaped the subject, afraid than some less receptive ears caught the conversation. Ironically Mirajane didn’t seem to like being gossiped about and avoided it like the pest if anyone even mentioned it. But that never stopped the card mage who found this gossip rather enjoyable and liked to remind people it existed.

“You’ve got to stop saying that.” The blond finally broke the ice. And regretted it as soon as Cana looked at her, like one decides on a target.

She didn’t like those jokes on Mirajane. She still had a lot of respect for the woman and loathed to gossip on her back, also to her face, but one was still a little more moral than the other.

“I’m saying it because it’s true.” She responded with a mischievous smile.

“You don’t know anything about that.” Levy joined the conversation while the others couldn’t find anything better to do than drinking and sending each other amused looks. Not wishing to participate in this hazardous subject.

“Thing is…” The woman continued without losing her smirk and taking a sip to manage a somewhat dramatic effect. “I know.”

“No, you don’t.” Kinana replied, joining the battle.

The brunette took another long sip before putting her glass on the table with a light sound and the creaking of her chair when she leaned back.

“You just don’t believe me because you don’t want to acknowledge that she’s been hiding something from all of you.” She attacked again, still wearing her unshakeable grin.

“No, we don’t listen to you because you don’t have any proof.” Levy defended again with a somehow more assertive tone like the subject personally bothered her too.

“I don’t need any proof, I am a witness.”

“Imagination doesn’t make a witness.” The white-haired one jumped in.

A general sigh and giggle went through the group as the tension broke. Erza sulked harder on her straw when she reached the end of the glass. Cana however seemed a bit less amused but couldn’t help grinning at that.

“Even if I told you, none of you would believe me.” She finally said with the sigh and a brighter smile.

“That’s the excuse of people who don’t know anything.” The blond pointed out quite amused this time now that the conversation took a slightly lighter tone.

The card mage took a long breath and finished her glass like she was reflecting on something. She put it down again and looked at all of them, more mischievously, but the blond could feel the apprehension that was tensing her while they all held their breaths.

“Fine.” She said without looking down. “I’ll tell you, but you better help me when Mira tries to pull my guts out with a kitchen knife.”

Some giggles went up but they all kept silent. Some of them frowning but all of them wondering how she planned on getting out of this situation.

“You guys remember how we all used to share a room during the Grand Magic Games ?” She started.

Some more frowning. Some sips and a definitely general interest with some shy nods.

“And how Laxus crushed Raven Tail on the third day ?”

More nods but definitely more frowning.

“Well, he was really drunk that evening, and I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“I don’t remember that.” Levy interrupted.

“Just ask Gajil and he’ll tell you !” She hushed her to continue her weirdly starting story.

“So, he was really drunk and sort of bleak that night.”

“Juvia kind of remembers !” The blue haired woman cut her even if she hadn’t said a word in a long time.

“Great, now let me talk.” The brunette responded quite abruptly.

The young woman blushed in embarrassment and closed her half open mouth, encouraging her friend.

“We were all a bit worried, especially Mira because she can’t help but worry about everyone.”

She took a small break and no one moved.

“Then he went upstairs and he looked horrible, I’m pretty sure he took the scotch with him.”

Another pause. Followed by one very listening silence, if you could forget about the noise of drinks and loud conversations across the bar.

“Just one minute after, Mira said she was going to see if he was okay, nothing suspicious.”

Some more frowns and concerned eyes.

“But after a while she still wasn’t back, and it was starting to get boring. So, I decided to go check because sometimes they used to have pointless fights and it’s annoying.”

“Why ?” The blond suddenly inquired, she didn’t imagine Mirajane to be a big fighter.

“Because they’re both idiots.” Lisanna cut her out, visibly anxious to know what followed.

The brunette grinned widely.

“I went upstairs, and I may have forgotten to knock.”

Frowns, while she managed another dramatic effect.

“I open the door…” She mimicked that last gesture. “And I swear, they were making out on the bed.” She went back on her seat with bright mischievous smile.

Some yelling elevated from the table and definitely wide open eyes.

“That’s not possible !” The blond exclaimed, already red from her cheeks to her ears.

“That’s what I saw.” The brunet exclaimed too. Her victorious grin only growing larger.

Some more exclamations from the other girls.

“Even if that’s true.” Levy interrupted them and brought back some kind of calm, the drinks probably giving her more authority than usual. “It was years ago, it’s probably over now.”

“Please don’t tell you really believe that !” Cana exclaimed in a laugh.

“It was just a kiss.”

“I only said that to be decent !” She smirked as the disapproving looks were setting on her and drinks were emptied.

“I mean, they were only making out but they were obviously not going to keep it at that.”

“You just say that.” Lisanna cut her out again, not that excited over the story as Lucy thought she would.

“They were like, almost laid down.” She tried to describe but getting quite embarrassed herself. “I think his shirt was already open.”

“You think ?” Kinana asked, also a bit surprisingly unimpressed.

“Well, I didn’t have the time to take a good look, I went away as quick as possible !”

“What did they do next ?” The blond inquired, almost as red as Erza. “You don’t think they…”

She laughed at her flustered expression.

“No, Mira went downstairs a few minutes after, they didn’t have the time.”

“What did she say to you ?” Evergreen spoke.

“Nothing !” The brunette chuckled again. “But she did send me a death look. She’s probably going to kill me.”

All the girls then looked a bit hesitant about keeping this conversation a secret.

“I don’t think you can draw conclusions with that.” Erza suddenly said after remaining silent all this time.

“I would have taken two more minutes to come and they would have been banging !” The brunette exclaimed as some girls got flustered again. “I don’t think they spent two years without doing anything out of it…”

The redhead wanted to keep going but she suddenly got cut out by the cheering voice of her white-haired friend approaching through the crowd.

“What are you guys talking about ?” She asked while taking a seat and grabbing one of the drinks Lucy had brought.

They all looked at each other in hesitation, not knowing if they were supposed to come up with a cover story or tell the truth right ahead. Even if none of them knew how the white haired mage might react.

“I was just telling them some stories about how we all used to get along during the Grand Magic Games.”

The mage took a slight sip of a drink before looking up.

“That’s nice.” She smiled. “Like what ?”

Awkward silence took place as the card mage swallowed hard.

“Well.” She chuckled. “I was thinking on beginning with the night we were all hammered, but they all seemed more interested in the day I found you trying to score with Laxus.”

The woman blinked and let a little laugh out. Feeling her cheeks heat under the intense gaze and widened eyes of her friends.

“I…” She swallowed, smiling even more in embarrassment. “What are you talking about ?”

“You heard me.” She insisted, might as well completely go in.

The demonic looked around to see the other girls practically hiding behind their drinks and sending each other desperate looks. Were they afraid of her ? More red than Erza’s hair had ever been, she didn’t even know if she was supposed to deny or explain herself.

“What did you tell them exactly ?” She asked, feeling her skin beginning to sweat.

“Only the truth.”

“Yeah, I don’t want people to get the wrong idea, what did you say ?”

The brunette smiled but the pressure only swelled more in her chest. She clenched her teeth, not sure if she should get into details before hating herself for starting this conversation. What the hell had she been thinking ?

“Well…” She hesitated, losing the confidence against the bright blue eyes that stared at her in a mix of apprehension and annoyance. “For my defense, they didn’t seem really surprised for the most…” She took a long sip. “I mean the Laxus bit.” She swallowed harder. “Not the Grand Magic Games part”

The white haired woman frowned and looked at them with one misunderstanding gaze.

“I knew.” Kinana spoke first as all the eyes were now on her.

“Me too.” Levy then spoke. “Gajil told me.” She felt obliged to add when she felt the gazes on her. “He said he smelled it.”

Cana frowned. Feeling kind of cheated as Levy had seemed one of the most skeptical ones.

“Well, I did too but you already knew that.” Lisanna added, getting a quick smile for her sister.

“Same.” Erza said in turn.

“How ?” The brunette finally exploded. “You’ve been telling me I was wrong since the beginning !”

Erza’s eyes widened as she felt more and more uncomfortable with that conversation.

“She told me.”

Cana sat back on her with unbelieving eyes. Since when did they all know about that ?

“I wasn’t surprised either.” Evergreen broke the silence. “Elfman told me.” She added when Mirajane looked at her.

“Juvia kind of suspected.” The water mage finally said.

Some awkward silence fell on the table.

“Wait, every single one of you knew before I said anything ?” Cana spoke with an amused but quite annoyed grin.

Silence again.

“I didn’t.” Lucy said. Feeling the stares getting up on her but looking straight at Mirajane who seemed the more disturbed and embarrassed that everyone was aware about her romantic life when she thought it was still rather secret. “I didn’t even imagine it was possible.”

She looked down, blushing at her own obliviousness. She could still not believe that Mirajane had hidden that fact through so much time. Nor that none of the girls had seriously mentioned it in the year that had past. What exactly was going on between them ? And how long had it been going on. The thoughts were still swirling in her mind but she looked up to cross Mirajane’s red face as she silently emptied her glass and opened her mouth to utter some explanation before closing it again.

The silence was becoming more than awkward.

“I just didn’t want to tell anyone until it was more…” Mirajane finally told. “…sure.”

“Then, why did you tell Erza ?”

“I was… drunk.” She looked down, sending a quick glance to the redhead that was taking a very long sip of her drink.

“When you kissed him, or when you told Erza ?” Levy asked.

“Both… I think” She rolled her eyes to hide her embarrassment as she was still the target of glances. They were all remaining silent and looking down or to each other.

“Well, I’m glad you’re finally being honest about it !” The brunette exclaimed.

“It’s not like you gave me a choice.”

“Sorry, next time you try to do him, I’ll make sure to get your consent first.”

“Looks like Mira is the one that should get consent first.” Levy spoke again, with a smirk this time. They were a few chuckles but most girls were afraid for her. The white-haired woman glanced around her with a sigh. Why were they so silent ? And why did they look like she could burst into flames at any moment? Obviously, she could. Her magic was already agitated with her trouble. It didn’t mean she was going to. But she could.

“So” Erza finally spoke. “What are you guys up to these days ?”

“Bickslow and I were actually thinking about going on a trip.” The white-haired one cheerfully answered, completely changing the subject from her sister’s secret love life. Or at least, sneaky life.

“Haven’t you two already been on one recently ?” The blond asked.

“Oh yeah, but this one is going to be much longer and much more fun !”

“You should take your sister then.” Cana exclaimed. “Looks like she’s the one that needs sparks in her life !”

She looked at her, visibly unamused. Which was obviously not the case of the others because some of them were still choking on their drinks.

“Sparks are for kids.” Levy took the floor. “Mira needs a man.”

“A man that would make her say…” Lisanna started. “You’re absolutely electrifying.”

General laughter raised from the table.

“Stop it. I’m going to lose a rib.” She said sarcastically but getting quite amused by them, if not still completely awkward.

“You’re the one sneaking with Laxus behind our backs !” Lisanna exclaimed, still laughing wholeheartedly.

“Are you guys really going to give me a hard time for this one time ?” She asked, with a slight smile this time.

Silent fell upon them once again. Some still trying to swallow.

“And yet, you found it shockingly enjoyable.”

Next Chapter

[storytimefromthecreed]

Qu’est-ce que c’est?

“You’re an imbecile.”

“Hey! It happens to everyone!” Arno countered. Demetri, hearing some potential drama and entertainment, headed into the Café. The scene was like so: Arno and Phillip were in the middle of a heated debate in the empty eating area, a cup of something hot in front of them and a pile of pastries between them. Phillip jut his chin out, as he did when he was upset. His cheeks were tinted, and his eyes were wide so that Demetri could see the whites of them.

Strolling over to the table, Demetri eyed a croissant and plucked it from the plate just as he pulled up a chair and sat between them. “Don’t mind me. Please, continue.” He nodded between them.

With a roll of his eyes, Arno pushed a cup towards him and began pouring his drink. Hot chocolate! The sweet aroma from the frothy drink reached his nose and made Demetri smile. It made sense considering it was the middle of the night. Having returned from a mission, the gang finished their Assassin work in the Bureau and headed to Arno’s to relax a bit before heading to bed. This had become a tradition of theirs.

Arno gave Demetri a nod, but it was Phillip who spoke to him first. “Demetri, Arno has me at a loss for words.”

“It happens everyone!” Arno repeated and they ignored him.

“What’s that thing that we have?” Phillip put his arm up and began drawing it in the air.

“What in hell are you doing?” Demetri asked, and Arno pointed at him.

“See! I told you! You’re not explaining it right!”

“Ok, if someone hadn’t made me forget what it was, then we wouldn’t be here in the first place.” Phillip retorted.

The fight continued as Gérard walked in. Demetri repeated softly to himself, “Something we have? Trauma? Issues with father figures?...”

“Gérard!” Arno beckoned, “What’s that thing? What’s it called?” Arno began moving his arms in the air and Gérard paused.

“What the hell are you doing?” He questioned, staying where he was and taking in the scene.

“The THING!” Phillip copied and stood to wave his arms. Arno stood also, and Demetri finally rose too.

“Ok, it’s not like that.” He moved his arms about, judging the two of them. “I swear to God, if that’s how you’re doing it then you’re terrible Assassins.”

“Oh, first you’re insulting the way I speak and now it’s my skills?” Arno grumbled, his arms still moving. “Who was it that stopped a traitor?”

“The same man who-” Phillip began, changing his pose but keeping his arms up.

“Is feeding you.” Arno cut in chuckled, tossing a pastry at Phillip. He caught it and began doing his poses with it in hand. “That’s what I thought.”

Gérard grasped the bridge of his nose. “Ok, you three, stop it. What are you on about?”

Demetri was staring at the ceiling, eyes wide as he’d forgotten it too. “Oh, that thing! The thingy!” He flailed his arms.

“Oh! It’s called…” His eyes went wide. Gérard now understood and began posing. “I always said hanging with you lot would kill my brain, I’ve forgotten it!”

“Damn it!” Demetri dipped his croissant in his hot chocolate and took a bite. He normally did this with his coffee as well, but the guys had known him for so long that his eating habits were no longer strange to them. “We were so-”

The final member of their party arrived, and when she walked in, she caught all four of them in various fight poses. Punching the air, flexing their wrists, reaching for one another in an awkward and strange dance. She froze, and their faces lit up! “Babe!” They all called, and Arno growled at all of them, his brows furrowed and his pout prominent. When he’d began dating Genevieve, he didn’t know that they all would too. It began as a joke between the four friends because they’d heard Arno calling her that one day, and then they began to too.

“Are you all alright?” She side eyed them before stepping closer. Was she missing a joke? Was this a bit between them? The friends were close and usually extremely strange together, so she didn’t want to be rude if this was a game they played.

“Geneieve, what’s that thing that we all have?” Demetri asked, and her eyes grew wide and she gave them a strange look.

“Men in general or…?”

“Not like that.” Phillip stepped between Demetri and her. “Don’t listen to him, he’s not explaining it right.”

“Hey! You guys were at it long before I came in.”

“Phillip, leave Demetri alone.” Arno stepped in, and Demetri stuck his tongue at the youngest Frenchmen.

Phillip crossed his arms. “Oh, like you’re much better, Monsieur,” Phillip began making awkward poses in the air and Arno interjected.

“Hey! I didn’t do all that. It’s this!” Arno began putting his arms in the air again and then Genevieve let out a big,

“Ohhhhh!”

The guys turned around, for all in the room recognized that as an exclamation of understanding.

“See.” Gérard gestured to them. “I told you she’d be able to figure it out for us. Go on, mon amie, what’s that thing?”

“A Hidden Blade?” She said, and there were face palms, sighs of relief, and nods all around.

“That’s it!”

“It was on the tip of my tongue.”

“No one mention this in the Bureau.”

Her and Gérard finally approached the table. Demetri left his seat so she could sit with Arno and then took his place beside Phillip. Resting his elbow in the young Assassin’s shoulder, as was his way, and poured the drinks for the new members of the table.

Arno gave her a quick kiss and they intertwined their fingers. “Have a nice night?” He asked, his eyes only on her. A softness overtook him when she was beside him, noticeable in his voice, his face, and his body language. Arno was a man madly in love.

“A good night, thank you for asking.” She thanked Demetri for the hot drink and looked around the table before she sipped. “But it appears you had a harder night than me. A Hidden Blade? How did you forget that?”

“It’s been a long night.” Phillip said sheepishly, but Gérard cut in.

“Don’t let them lie to you. We’ve known they were fools since the beginning.” He chuckled at this and the conversation turned wholesome and the night was filled with laughs.

When the others had gone home, and Arno and she cuddled in bed, a giggling overtook her. Pressing his lips to her shoulder and then her ear, he laughed with her before asking, “What’s got you in fits at this hour?” A kiss as soft as rose petals brushed against her cheek and she laughed as quietly as she could.

“Hidden Blade.”

Arno’s groan brought another fit, and he tightened his arms around her. “I’m never going to hear the end of it, am I?” He was laughing along, enjoying her enjoying him at his silliest.

“Not until the next time.”

He groaned once more, burying his face into her shoulder, and kissing her everywhere he could reach before she turned around and caught his mouth. They kissed and held one another, just enjoying being together, because they both knew they would be a next time. They fell asleep with smiles on their faces and love in their hearts.

[momentsofbllove]

Alright, y’all, it’s time for me to get to the second half of Where Your Eyes Linger. I am anticipating that it’s going to make me feel even MORE things than the first half, because that’s just what these BL dramas like to do to my poor fragile heart. If you remember we left off with Tae-joo being a whiny little baby and making Kang-gook WALK HOME because he got jealous of the date he made Kang-gook go in the first place. 

Let’s see if this idiot can get his shit together. (I’m thinking no.)

EPISODE FIVE:

Okay, he has immediately regretted his decision and told the driver to turn around. There may be hope for him yet!

He’s mad... at Kang-gook... for walking home... after he told him to walk home?! Boy!

Kang-gook may love this boy but he is also tired of his shit.

Okay okay okay. We’re starting to reflect and look at our actions. This is good! This is progress! I’m proud of you, Tae-joo. 👍

So they’re in the same bed again. They definitely sleep this way every night. WHY?! What is the heterosexual explanation for this? There is none. Everyone knows there is none. Except Tae-joo. He thinks this is normal. It's not normal, Tae-joo.

That’s the second time he’s mentioned his mom! Okay, I’ve now gone from wanting to smack Tae-joo upside the head to wanting to cuddle him until he feels better. Kang-gook... go cuddle him until he feels better!

Kang-gook, you won’t even let him cuddle when he’s missing his mom!?

“I’m sad.” BABY!! SOMEONE TAKE CARE OF THIS BOY!

Oh thank goodness. Finally my precious child gets a cuddle. (But it hurt Kang-gook a little to do it and that makes ME sad!)

Okay, I really adore Hyemi. She is so awkward and precious.

HA! ‘You have a bad personality.’ I love her so much.

This is the weirdest game of dodgeball I’ve ever seen. In America we use like 20 balls and it’s like a medieval war zone with people dying left and right. This is so... tame and polite.

Tae-joo is jealous again...

 I love how they’re both fighting for a spot behind Kang-gook. Like, guys, he’s built like a bear, there’s room for you both!

Ooooooh! The betrayal!!!! 😲

And then Hyemi just runs! Good choice. Good choice.

This whole conversation hurts.

Kang-gook, that is not what he wants and you know it! You’ve been repressing your own feelings for so long, now Tae-joo is staring at you like THAT and you want to spar? You are both so useless.

The episode ends THERE?!?!!!!

Where’s the ‘NEXT’ button?!

EPISODE SIX:

Oh shit! That is the WRONG person to have see them. I don’t know what’s going on with this guy, but I don’t like him!

Okay, but now he’s trying to stop Hyemi from seeing them. Is he protecting them, or her? Either way it’s kind of sweet. Is he going to make me like him?

Bonding over disliking Tae-joo. I can get behind this. (Look, I like Tae-joo, really, especially since that ‘hug me, I’m sad’ moment. But he’s arrogant and selfish. He needs people in his life who are willing to tell him that.)

Kang-gook has been in love with Tae-joo for how long? And now he finally gets the opportunity to kiss him and he just...shoves him away. Damn your sense of propriety, boy!

WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT EPISODE TITLE?!!!?!!!!!! I don’t like it!!!!!!!

But Kang-gook is very cute pulling Tae-joo around by the wrist like a naughty toddler.

Aaaand Tae-joo is being a pouty baby again.

Oof, Tae-joo is throwing Kang-gook’s words back at him.

‘If we talk about this, we can’t do this for life.’ Oh no! Kang-gook is so worried about losing him. This is not the way to fix it though!

Oh! I did not see a confession coming just like that!

Kang-gook, baby, no! I don’t think he’s acting like this because he sees you as a parental figure/care-giver. That is NOT what this is about.

“I can live without you, you can’t.’ FIRST OF ALL, NO! Second of all, HOW DARE YOU! Kang-gook, what what WHAT are you doing?!!! Why are you trying to hurt him?!

KANG-GOOK WTF?!?!!!!

This hurts and I don’t like it!!! Kang-gook, what have you done?! He’s crying, you’re crying, he’s telling you to leave! SAY SIKE RIGHT NOW!! 😢

Okay, if Kang-gook wasn’t already in love with Tae-joo (even if he’s being an ASS about it!!) he and Hyemi would actually be really cute together. Her little doll is adorable.

‘I’m not having a hard time.’ What the fuck just happened in the gym then?!!! I’m using so many exclamation points right now and it’s all your fault. Not having a hard time. Go apologize to the man you love right now!

He bought Tae-joo chocolate milk. I can’t.

OH SHIT! What happened at the house?!

There is no fucking rest here. NEXT NEXT NEXT!

EPISODE SEVEN:

Okay, so we picked up a few minutes before Kang-gook gets home to the house that has been - what, broken into? Robbed? Worse?! Where is Tae-joo?!!! - and Kang-gook says they just have to make up like they always have before. BOY! You told him the happiest you’ve ever been was when he was IN A DIFFERENT COUNTRY! How do you ‘just make up��� from that! Uhg! Boys are so dumb. 😤

Oh god, I was right! Tae-joo is gone!!!!

Kang-gook sounds so scared and lost!

Oh, that bastard! He told on them?!

Oh. Oh no. He was spying on them to protect his dad?

As if I didn’t hate Tae-joo’s dad already, now I just want to stab him in the face with something dull and rusty!

Aww, come on. I get why Kang-gook is mad, but honestly I feel sorry for this guy. Not only did Tae-joo steal 3 of his girlfriends, but then he was forced to spy on them and tell their secrets in order to protect his family. This guy is not a bad guy, he’s in the same boat they are, being controlled by the chairman. Poor thing.

Nooo! Baby, you’re not trash! You didn’t have a choice! Oh gosh, this guy (whose name I can’t freaking remember even though it was literally JUST on my screen) is now part of the ‘I will protect you, you sweet small bean’ club. It includes Tae-joo, Hyemi, and now this guy. Kang-gook WAS on that list, but he got kicked off when he was mean to Tae-joo.

Oh god. Tae-joo just kneeling there in front of his father and his lackeys... he looks so small and vulnerable! 🥺

Not only is he begging his father not to hurt the man he loves, but he also thinks he’s the only one that feels that way and my heart is CRYING!

There’s that ‘do whatever you want to me but don’t hurt the people I love’ thing again. He knows he’s in trouble, he looks so scared and alone, but damn it if he isn’t going to protect his mother, even if she’s gone. This boy!

Oh! The look on Tae-joo’s face when Kang-gook arrived! He really didn’t think he’d come.

He’s really just going to do this, huh? Take on all these people to get to Tae-joo while monologueing about how he doesn’t want to be separated from him. It’s okay. I didn’t need my heart anyway!

Oh god! That eye-contact through the window! Tae-joo looks so heartbroken watching Kang-gook get hurt!

And Kang-gook finally realizing what he feels is love while he’s bleeding on the ground, tears in his eyes while he looks at the person he has spent his whole life devoted to!

He can’t keep his eyes of Tae-joo! My heart!!!

This. Is too much. To handle.

EPISODE EIGHT:

Oh god! He went through all of that for five minutes with Tae-joo! What, to say goodbye?! No!

I want to murder this asshole and feed him to wild dogs! Stop hurting my baby! 😡 (Kang-gook is officially back on the small bean protection squad!) 

The look on Tae-joo’s face as he watches Kang-gook get beaten for him! 😢

No! Don’t go to England! Tae-joo, don’t give your father what he wants!

He sounds so broken and sad and alone. My baby!

He’s asking for one more night with Kang-gook before he goes... 😫

And now it’s Tae-joo’s turn to take care of Kang-gook. I can’t.

Everything about this hurts. Kang-gook finally confessing his feelings in return, Tae-joo refusing to kiss Kang-gook (why Tae-joo? because it would be too hard to live with the knowledge of his kiss when you know you’re leaving?).

‘My dream is to live happily, and I’m happiest when I’m with you.’

That... is the most romantic line... ever. He doesn’t want money, or power, or any of this things his father wants him to have. He just wants to be happy, and Kang-gook is his happiness. I’m just...........

Noooo! He doesn’t even say goodbye one last time?! He just leaves when he thinks Kang-gook is sleeping?!

Kang-gook’s just waiting for him to come back but he DOESN’T! 😭

What... is happening? What is going on? I’m very confused. There was a strange scene at the end of the last episode that I thought was, like... a preview for this one... but now Kang-gook is leaving the Choi’s restaurant. When did he start working there in the first place? I’m very confused. (Also... I’m sorry... that yellow sweater... is awful on him. Like... it’s so bad? And that hair cut... is so bad. This whole look on him is not good. Not good.)

Wait... are Hyemi and the not-bad-guy dating? Okay, that’s kind of cute.

Oh, ouch. Hyemi’s mom is brutal.

Aaw, and him and Kang-gook are friends now. That’s cute. But also confusing! How long has it been since Tae-joo left? It JUST happened, but everything’s changed, so time must have passed. Did I miss something?

Kang-gook: *beats the crap out of 3 trained bodyguards* Mrs. Choi: our Gook-y is so weak and frail!

Oh now they tell us! Three years?! I am not okay with this! Going to Japan to FORGET Tae-joo? I’m REALLY not okay with this! 😟

Oh god, he looks so much better this way. The blazer, the hair... so much better!

Seriously, he looks like a completely different person. He’s a very attractive man. That restaurant look was just.. so not good for him.

Oh!

Tae-joo came back for him just like he promised!!!

Haha! Yes, Tae-joo. Yes, he did get more handsome!

Yes, please run away together...

Aaaaah the ear rub! My heart! 🥰

YES! Kang-gook, get your man!

Oh gosh, is there anything better than smiling into a kiss because you’re so happy? Now I’M so happy! 💖💖💖

Okay, wow. That last episode was a damn roller coaster! This show definitely would have benefited from another hour or two to really explore a lot of these plot points, especially the three years they were apart. But I’ve read that just getting this show made in the first place was a huge success for LGBTQ+ representation in South Korea, so honestly everything this show was, was so good! So so good! (I also hear that the same production company is coming out with another one, Mr. Heart, so I’ll be looking for that one!)

[zippiestdraws]

Choking Curiosity Ch 6

Read on Ao3

ftm reader x michael myers

Everything aches right now.

Considering the circumstances, you could be a lot worse or dead, but that doesn’t make you thankful. You take one step down the stairs and nearly trip, having to blink away a dizzy spell. You need some ice for multiple parts of your body.

You keep a small first-aid kit in the upstairs bathroom, but you don’t think it’ll help the contusions. Your ribs and ankle you can ignore if you lie down, but the red and purple ring around your throat glares at you in the mirror and throbs when you swallow.

You hold an ice pack to your head and breath. You’re exhausted.

The backdoor he left through is unlocked. You stare until you can gather the strength to get up and turn the lock. The practiced motion and click of the tumbler shifts the question to the forefront of your mind.

How long had he been in here with me?

There was evidence of a squatter when you first moved in and you really hope it hasn’t been that long. An odd mixture of horror and embarrassment festers when you think about all the things he could have seen when you thought you were alone.

You really wish you had curtains you could close right now. The darkness has fallen and you need to move on for now, but you grab your bat and keep it close.

*** You wake the next morning, surprised to still be breathing.

With careful probing, the dark corners of the house prove themselves to be empty and you cringe at the inevitability of having to be productive today.

The sunlight streaming through the windows makes you feel guilty for not wanting to leave the house. You’re probably no safer out there than in here even after changing the locks, but at least there are less directions to be attacked from.

Thinking of attacking, that ugly wallpaper is really asking for it. You decide to work on that after putting some food in your stomach.

Easier said than done. Whoever built this shitty house decided to cut corners on priming the walls before gluing the wallpaper down, and now you have the joy of pulling it off in shredded strips like a cheap sticker. After a couple sweaty hours, you almost wished you just left it up because you don’t even know how to cover up the mess with paint.

Frustration gets the best of you so you throw the scraps in a garbage bag and head for the shower. The first aid kit sits out on the counter where you left it, sparking a reminder that you haven’t done your testosterone injection since the move. You cringe and make a mental note to schedule an appointment with a local endocrinology lab before anything happens.

You nearly forget while washing up, prompting you to search the house for a pen while still in a towel. You have to find the number to a place first, though, glancing at the cheap plastic telephone with its tangled cord on the kitchen counter. You bought it because you didn’t want to use a payphone to call Laurie.

Oh shit. Laurie would definitely want to hear about what happened last night. Anxiety wells within you. What would be the purpose of calling her? She couldn’t really do anything to help and she would probably freak out. You consider that she might not believe that you met him and lived, but the bruises on your neck would be proof enough.

Your hand rests on the phone. She has a right to know.

Your hand is slow to punch the numbers on the faded scrap of paper and you hold your breath as it rings.

The phone clicks. “Hello?”

“Hi Laurie, it’s (y/n).” you let your breath out, unsure how you should act in this situation.

“Oh, how are you doing?”, you can hear a little bit of concern through the pleasantry.

“Actually, something’s happened…”, you choke on your words. You didn’t think about how to phrase it and the words feel weird in your mouth. “He was here.”, you exhale the words like a strained whisper.

There’s a pause and there’s a sound like something falling over the phone.

“Michael was there? You saw him?”, her voice demanded. You almost flinch at the name, you didn’t want to say it, like it would manifest.

“Yes,” you answer in a normal voice that seems too loud this time. “He-” your voice breaks unexpectedly and you stop.

You can hear Laurie asking if you’re okay and about what happened while you try to piece together a description that fit.

“He was in my room. I didn’t see him...and he...started choking me.” He was so strong, fighting was useless. Your stomach turns a little bit when you think about how you almost died. And how that shouldn’t sound so hot.

Laurie was silent on the other end, probably waiting for you to finish.

“I think he dropped me. The next thing I knew I was on the floor and he left the room”,

“That’s impossible, he would’ve finished the job…” Laurie mumbles through the phone. You were wondering the same thing yourself.

You recount how you tried to escape the house, how he was waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs, how he pulled you down on the steps. And how he just left.

You feel drained at the end of it and you doubt that she has an answer for you.

“You need to call the police, he can’t have gone far!”, she sounds angry now.

You huff a defeated laugh. “The cops aren’t gonna help me, they said I was wasting their time and I told them to go fuck themselves...it happened last night anyway, it’s too late now.”

You wince and pull the phone away from your ear at Laurie’s ensuing exclamation.

“-and you didn’t think to call me immediately?!”

You don’t offer an excuse other than the thought ‘I mean I was stupid enough to buy the house anyway.’ *** You triple checked the locks and windows, locked your bedroom door, and slept soundly enough with your bat.

Work wasn’t until noon, but you woke up early to see what you could do about the bruises on your neck. The finger prints turned a mottled purple and yellow over the fading red speckling of broken blood vessels. It’ll probably freak people out, but you don’t have any concealer and it’s too hot for a scarf, so you resign yourself to getting awkward questions.

Halfway out the door, you freeze, thinking about the walk home in the dark. You can’t call off, standing at an impasse before a lightbulb goes off in your head, darting back inside to grab your bat.

It would be a bit odd to carry a small bat with you to a grocery store, so you opt to wrap it in one of your jackets to conceal it. Now you feel ready.

*** Work went about as well as you expected. Nearly every customer asked the dreaded question, and you considered giving a different story each time just for the fun of it. One of the regular old gossips heard that a car was stolen on the radio and asked if it was the same person. You told her you doubt it.

You saw Dwight and Quentin today, and their concern made you feel bad for worrying them, though you don’t know why. You just told them you were mugged and didn’t want to talk about it.

You waved goodbye to Quentin at eight and slipped your bat out of its shroud when you hit the sidewalk. The glow of the streetlights thinned as you walked, but you kept the bat close to your chest anyway. You don’t want the cops to question you after getting on your bad side.

Halfway home, you hear footsteps behind you. You try to look out of the corner of your eye, paranoid. The figure is much smaller than Michael, you sigh in relief. It was too loud to be him anyway.

The back of your shirt is yanked back, giving your shoulders a rug burn as it pulls against your neck harshly.

The point of a pocket knife is thrust into your view over your left shoulder. ‘Am I getting mugged? What an awful coincidence-’ passes through your brain before a harsh voice accompanied by bad breath and the stench of cigarette invades your space.

“Empty your pockets.”

You’re free hand goes up in response to the knife and the man rifles through your jacket and pants pockets, finding only your house key and throwing it on the ground before shoving you.

“No wallet, huh? What’re you carrying, then? I’ll take that.”

Your brain is on autopilot, slowly turning your body with your left hand up in surrender.

“I’m carrying...this” you move like your gesturing it out to him from under your jacket, and when he leans in you swing it like a backhand across his face before turning and running.

Briefly, you hear “you mother fucker!” behind you before he pursues and you start to panic. You didn’t think this through very far.

You make it to the corner of the street and cut through a yard as you turn, running home but with no key. A body connects with yours and you hit the grass on your stomach, knocking the wind out of you. You wheeze with the weight on your back and feel your attacker grab your hair and try to slam your head into the ground.

Kicking your legs into him does nothing, until you feel him suddenly lift off of you and hit the ground. Rolling over, you see a large dark figure loom over the thug on the ground. His angry jeers get cut off by a heavy boot stomped on his chest. You hear ribs crack and then a strangled yelp before a dark spray of blood hits the navy jumpsuit.

Scrambling backwards until you can stand, your wide eyes stare into the white face of the mask that turns to you. He closes the gap and holds a clenched fist toward you.

It’s a staring contest you lose, looking down at his hand, the one that almost ended your life. You hold out your hand.

Into it drops your bloody house key.

*** You get home severely shaken by tonight’s events. After giving you the key, he wiped the blood off his knife on that arm’s sleeve. He lets you leave, but makes it obvious that he’s watching.

You have to wipe the blood off your key when you go to use it. You hope it doesn’t stain this jacket. The house is dark and silent, almost oppressively so. You go to head to the comfort of your room, before begrudgingly walking back down the stairs to check the lock on the back door.

It’s still locked. You peer out the back window.

Almost completely obscured by the dark, a white mask stands vigilant at the fence.

You’re both tired, and filled with butterflies. You open the back porch door and stare back for a long moment. Then you wordlessly go up to bed, letting the door close behind you and making a show not to lock it.

You still lock your bedroom door.

[ezrisdax-archive]

wedding bells

Everyone in Garreg Mach overhears the "engagement" and has ideas for the wedding. Ingrid just wants to correct this. Dorothea's just amused. (over here on ao3)

~~

“Oh Ingrid…I accept your offer! We’ll be together forever!”

 It was a mistake to have done this in the dining hall as soon as they’d returned because at Dorothea’s sudden exclamation everyone turned towards them.

 “No way…” Sylvain said, the first to approach them and grinned at Ingrid as he swung an arm over her shoulder. “Ingrid you never said you were going to propose to Dorothea, I’m a little hurt you cut us out of this.”

 “This isn’t-” Ingrid tried to say to defend herself but was cut off again.

 “You sure she’s worth it?” Felix asked, coming up beside them, in that brash tactless way he had.

 “Felix!” Ingrid scolded, “Anyone would be lucky to marry Dorothea.” She was certain her face now matched Sylvain’s hair the way she was flushing.

 “Just making sure.” Felix scowled at Dorothea and in that moment Ingrid realized it was his awkward attempt at vetting to make sure Ingrid was happy.

 “Ingrid just got to me first.” Dorothea said, giggling and winking at Felix. “No need to be jealous.”

 “Now hang on-” Ingrid tried again but this time was interrupted by Ferdinand swooping over and pulling Ingrid out of Sylvain’s grasp and into a hug.

 “A momentous occasion! The Black Eagle’s own Dorothea engaged to a worthy noble.”

 She’d never realized how loud Ferdinand was before.

 “Oh Ferdie, put my fiancée down.” Dorothea frowned at him until Ferdinand pouted and put Ingrid down.

 “My apologies, I was merely overwhelmed by this glorious news!”

 “Thanks Ferdie.” Dorothea said, but it was dry.

 “Ohhhh, Dorothea! Please say I can do your make-up the big day.” Hilda had made her way over while dragging Marianne with her. “Please, please, please!”

 “Of course Hilda! There’s no one I’d trust more. Petra,” Dorothea beckoned her fellow classmate, “Do you think you could braid my hair.”

 “I would be most grateful to be chosen for this honour, Dorothea.” Petra said and smiled widely at Dorothea.

 “I can do Ingrid’s! Mercie will help, right Mercie?” Annette came up behind Ingrid, making her jump a little in surprise.

 “Of course, Annie!” Mercedes smiled softly at Ingrid. “Congratulations Ingrid, I had no idea you were going to propose to Dorothea.”

 “She didn’t tell anyone? Guess I’m not so left out of the loop then. I still call being a man of honour for Ingrid.” Sylvain grinned, “Felix does too.”

 “Leave me out of this. And since when do you have any honour?”

 “Guys!” Ingrid tried to get their attention but no one was listening still.

 “Talk about breaking down the class barriers Ingrid, who knew you had it in you.” Claude clapped a hand on her shoulder and winked and without a doubt Ingrid got the feeling he knew this was a misunderstanding but wouldn’t help her clear it up.

 “Indeed.” Edelgard was standing next to Claude with Hubert hovering behind her as always. “Though I may have to duel you, to ensure you’re right for Dorothea of course. As head of her house I believe I’m owed that honour.” There was the barest hint of a smile on her lips to show she was joking but Ingrid took a step back just in case.

 “Ingrid!” Dimitri of course was next, rushing over with Dedue. “I just heard the strangest rumour!”

 “How?!” Ingrid asked indignant, annoyed at how fast things were spiralling out of control.

 “I wonder if I can get Bernie to help me make a dress…” Dorothea mused.

 “Oh I’ve seen her work,” Leonie piped up, “She’s a good choice for that!” Leonie tugged at her sleeve showing a mended embroidered patch at her elbow, “Fixed this right up for me.”

 Ingrid heard a thud she could only assume was Bernadetta fainting at the compliment.

 “This is just like in the stories!” Ashe exclaimed, squeezing through the crowd to reach Ingrid. “You saw how fervent Dorothea was fighting for you not get married to that one noble and as the gallant knight you couldn’t help but fall in love!”

 “No Ashe, that’s not what hap-”

 “They’ll need a wonderfully tasty cake.” Lysithea was bouncing a little as she said it but Ingrid knew better than to point out how young that made her look.

 “And an even better feast.” Raphael boomed from above her.

 “I believe I can offer my services if such are needed.” Dedue said, bowing a little in Ingrid’s direction.

 “I-I’ll paint you a picture, of your wedding day, a memory for the both of you. It might not be any good…” Ignatz trailed off when Raphael smacked him on the back to assure him his pictures would be fine.

 “All this noise…I may pass on the reception, Dorothea.” Linhardt said between yawns.

 “Aw c’mon Linhardt, this is for Dorothea!” Caspar nudged him. “I bet Ingrid had to fight for her hand in marriage and it was an awesome battle.”

 “That’s not what happened!” Ingrid managed to get out.

 “No, she just asked me, so matter of fact.” Dorothea sighed a little dreamily. “Not quite the engagement offer I imaged but who could say no to my lovely Ingrid.”

 “Dorothea!” Ingrid was blushing again and she knew it.

 “You certainly can’t go wrong with having roses for the wedding.” Lorenz offered, brushing his hair back somehow haughtily, “My expertise will be invaluable then.”

 “Look this is all a mistake.” Ingrid said but was drowned out by everyone shouting out various offers and ideas.

 She buried her face in her hands and pulled away from the crowd, aiming to sneak away.

 “We can’t use black as a colour for the wedding, it’ll look more like a funeral then!” She heard Hilda arguing to Ferdinand who had declared their colours should match their respective houses.

 “Make sure there’s lots of meat dishes.” Raphael was saying to Dedue who was nodding solemnly.

 “Can I be the cake tester? I mean, I assume you’ll need one.” Lysithea was begging Mercedes.

 “I think if this is a merging of the Black Eagles and Blue Lions it should be held on Golden Deer lands to show we’re all involved. Something that really unites us.” Claude said over Dimitri’s offer to host the wedding at his grounds.

 She finally reached the end of the dining hall, bursting out into the gardens and groaning loudly as she collapse on the bench.

 “How am I going to explain this one?” Ingrid asked to herself, blowing her hair of her eyes in annoyance.

 “Oh don’t worry,” A voice said above her and she jerked her head up to see Dorothea standing there with her eyes twinkling a little with mirth. “I’ll make a grand statement that we realized we needed to wait and then over time our love just faded.”

 “I don’t think it’s possible to fall out of love with you Dorothea.” Ingrid said, surprisingly them both.

 “Oh,” It was nice to see this time that Dorothea was blushing. “That’s sweet Ingrid.”

 “I mean it.” She insisted, clearing her throat and looking down a little. “You have this amazing charm about yourself, you always look so well put together and can talk to just about anyone. I’m envious a little.”

 “Don’t count yourself out, you’ve got a grace about you, it’s very clear you were cut out to be a knight. Ashe was right about the whole gallant part.” Dorothea was winking at her when Ingrid looked back her way.

 Ingrid laughed, “I think he’ll be the one most crushed we’re not getting married.”

 “A shame to break everyone’s planning like that.” Dorothea said and then took a seat next to her. “Though it was fun to pretend at least for a little while.”

 “Oh? I’m sure you’ve gotten offers before, you’ve never pretended with one of them?”

 “They were only interested in voice or my looks.” Dorothea sounded bitter and angry, so unlike her usual cheery self that Ingrid immediately felt bad for bringing it up and wanted to fix it.

 “Well I’m not.” Ingrid said and then flushed at how it sounded. “I mean interested in your voice or looks. Not that they’re not lovely, I mean you’re lovely.” This wasn’t going at all as she planned. “But I care more about you as Dorothea the person is what I meant.”

 Dorothea’s smile was blinding and only made her blush deepen. “You’re adorable Ingrid. I almost wish this was real.”

 At that moment Ingrid almost wished it too. But her father would never allow it.

 She opened her mouth to say that but what came out instead was, “I should at least court you first.”

 Dorothea raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

 “Well,” Ingrid swallowed, “A knight doesn’t go back on her word.” Her father didn’t have to know, this might not go anywhere after all but with the soft look Dorothea was giving her she really didn’t care either way just then.

 Dorothea’s lips curved upwards, “I accept your proposal.” She said and then after a moment added, “Can I keep the ring?”

 Ingrid snorted in amusement, “Sure Dorothea, think of it as a courting gift.”

 “I’ll be expecting something better later.” Dorothea nudged her lightly, leaning in and then pressing a kiss to Ingrid’s cheek. “C’mon.” She stood up and offered Ingrid her hand, “Let’s go correct everyone’s assumptions. I promise not to lead them on this time.”

 Ingrid took her hand and let herself be pulled up but didn’t pull her hand away afterwards, awkwardly holding on. She lifted their joint hands up so she could press a kiss to the back of Dorothea’s hand, feeling silly as she did it but she’d always felt it was romantic in the books she had read of knights who courted maidens.

 “Oh Ingrid...” Dorothea said softly, smiling at her.

 “Maybe we can let them plan a little while longer.” Ingrid relented, looking back at the dining hall which was still loud with everyone shouting things. “Or at least tire themselves out to the point they can’t talk back when we correct them.”

 “And in the meantime?”

 “I hear the Goddess Tower has a lovely view.” Ingrid squeezed Dorothea’s hand that was still in her grasp.

 Dorothea giggled and used their clasped hands to pull Ingrid along. The ring she’d put on her finger brushed against Ingrid’s fingers, the metal warmed from Dorothea’s skin.

 Maybe one day, if her father could ever be convinced or maybe she just wouldn’t care, the ring could be replaced with another.

 But she wasn’t going to let Sylvain or Felix plan one second of that wedding.

[littleplebe]

Something Wonderful - Part 2

For @mee2themoo‘s Marvel Summer Fun and Fluff Fest.

A continuation of +this.

About a year and a half ago…

It was a month after Steve had been discharged from the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, deemed fit to start living by himself in this new world. A small living space had been assigned to him in Brooklyn along with a free gym membership that he abused without shame, also something called a computer that stayed boxed in a forgotten corner of his room along with a few other modern techs that Steve was afraid to use. One of the nicer and chattier agents at S.H.I.E.L.D. had hinted that all modern technology could be hacked. Steve took it to mean everything could be traced to its owner. He didn’t know what that could mean for him but he wasn’t about to take risks considering he didn’t trust anyone and anything in this century yet.

He often felt paranoid. Being a man out of time wasn’t an easy situation to handle. He had difficulty coping as a result of practically everything being different. People were loud and always in a hurry, fashion was downright outrageous, everything was expensive—at the rate he was spending money these days, he would go bald within a year—and he didn’t think he would ever get used to some of the words he had heard on the streets. Amazeballs, awesome, chill out and… badonkadonk? They stumped him. He had been called a dude a dozen times and, while he wasn’t unfamiliar with the word, it was hardly the right term to describe someone like him.

The amount of history and culture to catch up on was overwhelming and it made his mind spin. Frequent nightmares, dark thoughts, and his overall frustration at waking up to a world that had moved on without him eventually led him to consider a road trip out of the city. Maybe getting away from the hubbub of New York would help him calm down and feel a bit better about his unfortunate situation.

He packed some clothes and snacks in a bag and rented a pickup truck. He would travel south, spend the night in whichever place he’s reached by then, and there he would decide if he wanted to keep going or return home.

Couple of hours in, the journey was quiet and smooth, and without anything to distract him except the dull drone on the radio, Steve fell back into the addictive world of what-ifs. What if he had given Peggy his coordinates before he went down? What if Howard had found him with the coordinates and he was alive in his own time like he was supposed to be? What if he killed himself now? Would that make a difference to anyone at all?

Hours later and still completely owned by his morbid thoughts, he was passing through a small town just outside of Virginia when the car cruising ahead of him slowed abruptly and ran into an oncoming vehicle. Steve slammed his foot on the breaks to avoid another collision.

“Holy shit!” His exclamation was buried under the screech of tires as the truck skidded to a dangerous halt in the middle of the road, just a few inches shy of the car before him.

The reason for the accident, it turned out, was a naked woman who was presently eyeing the crash with caution. She wasn’t entirely naked, but even in this century, Steve knew that people walking around in their unmentionables was not a common occurrence. He stared in open-mouthed shock as she casually walked past the two ill-fated vehicles and approached Steve’s truck.

“Um,” he said when the passenger door opened and she slid in beside him without any explanation.

“Let’s go.”

“Where?” he asked her dumbly, eyes flickering to the road ahead to see the owners of the crashed vehicles engaged in a verbal fight. “I… need to help them.”

The woman shot him a look. “They can take care of themselves. I’m naked. Get me out of here!”

Steve turned to her, careful not to let his gaze wander. She was wearing black lace. It was fogging his judgment. “Um…”

The question of her identity or if she was to be trusted didn’t even cross his mind, so caught up was he in figuring out what would be the right thing to do in that instant. Her words echoed unevenly in his mind, registering a bit later than they should have and Steve realized she had a point. He wordlessly put the truck in reverse and drove around the crash like a careless civilian. A worried glance at the rearview mirror showed that the two men were still arguing.

“Relax,” drawled his new companion. “They were both perverts, more interested in checking me out than actually stopping to help.” She ducked her head out of the open window and screamed, “Assholes!”

Steve blinked and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “Why… why are you…?”

“Why am I half naked on the road?” She pulled her legs up into her body and wrapped her arms around her knees in a display of defiance and, perhaps, in an unsuccessful attempt to hide her assets from his gaze. “Well, if you must know,” she continued stiffly. “I quit my job and they asked for my uniform back. I was angry and feeling petty, so I took it off right there and threw it at their faces.”

People really do that? Steve wondered. Apparently, they did.

“I mean, it wasn’t a job. It was an internship. I was supposed to work in HR or public relations but for whatever dumb reason, they placed me in security instead and gave me a stupid uniform to wear.” She paused and shook her head in defeat. “Now I’ll have to find somewhere else where I can earn my six college credits. God, this sucks!”

If she were fully clothed, Steve would think about offering some comfort in the form of a light pat on the knee. Since she wasn’t clothed, he settled for a small smile that came out more confused than sympathetic.

“Where am I taking you?”

“Willowdale. Culver University.”

“Oh. That’s where I’m headed.” He had planned to stop in Richmond but Willowdale wasn’t far. He supposed he could spend the night there instead.

The woman gave him a skeptical look. “Yeah, right.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he awkwardly introduced himself. “I’m Steve.”

She fidgeted, looking uncomfortable. “I’m Jane… uh… Foster.” She glanced behind them at the empty backseat. “Do you have a jacket or a blanket or something in this old metal contraption?”

Steve started. “Shoot, yeah! I have… uh…” He pulled up on the side of the road and gave her an apologetic look. “I have clothes. I’m sorry I didn’t think to offer sooner.”

“Yeah, that’s a shocker,” Jane deadpanned.

He tried not to get upset by her sarcasm and her skepticism to believe that he wasn’t one of those perverts out to get her. He would take her home safely and prove that he was a gentleman of the best kind, which he wasn’t—not completely—but she didn’t need to know that.

“I’ll get you a shirt,” he mumbled, hopping out and going to the back to retrieve one from his bag. She seemed to approve of it and snatched it from his grip to quickly put it on. It fell well past her thighs and Steve, who had been too busy not staring at the pale expanse of her skin, noticed for the first time how tiny she was. The shoulder line of his shirt hung over her biceps and the sleeves were longer than her arms.

She burrowed herself into the fabric and whispered, “Thank you.”

Steve nodded silently and restarted the truck.

She seemed to open up after that. Not a lot, but she told him about nicking a taser from the security vault of the firm she had recently quit and about her friend who worked in the same firm, who normally drove her to and from that place. But since she had quit, her friend couldn’t come to her rescue and she had to stand half nude on the road, hoping some kind soul would give her a lift.

Steve could sense some awkwardness seeping into her demeanor now that she had probably realized he was a nice fella and had no intention to do anything except help her. She pulled the collar close around her neck and said, “I’m not usually like this. I don’t rip off my clothes in public and walk around in my underwear.”

Steve kept his eyes on the road. “I’m sure you don’t.”

 It was quite late when they reached Culver. Steve realized they should have reached half an hour ago but he had been driving slower than he normally did. For… for Jane’s safety. The woman in question got out at the gates of Culver University and thanked him for bringing her home.

“Where are you staying at?” she inquired casually.

“I’m staying…” He trailed away because he had no idea. He would have to ask around for a cheap inn. Or perhaps he could still make it to Richmond.

“Do you have a place to crash at night?” Jane frowned when Steve nodded uncertainly. “Seriously, dude?”

“I’m sure I’ll find a place nearby.”

“This late?”

“Recommend me a hotel, maybe? Some place not that expensive?”

“Jesus Christ! Look, there’s no such thing as ‘not expensive’ in this place unless you’re a student, which you’re not.” She paused and ran a hand down her face. “God, I can’t believe I’m doing this… just leave the truck here and come with me. My roommate’s in Chicago for internship and her bed is free.”

Steve shook his head immediately. “That’s very kind of you, but I think I can manage by my own.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Can you scale a wall?”

He blinked, confused at the turn in conversation. “I…”

She wasn’t interested in waiting for an answer and pointed ahead to her left. “Around the corner, second building, third floor. I’ll switch on the lights and stick my head out so you know which window.” Then she walked away, taking his shirt with her, her dark hair glistening in the moonlight.

“Shit!” cursed Steve, staring as she disappeared into the campus premises.

Did he have a choice?

He did. He could drive away and find a place to stay till morning and forget all about the woman he had met on the road. But he couldn’t leave her waiting at her window, could he? Plus, he needed his shirt back. He could go there, tell her he was going to be fine on his own—hell, he could even sleep in the truck if he didn’t find anything suitable—he would take his shirt and he would leave. And that would be it. Simple and easy.

He felt like a thief sneaking around in the shadows as he followed the directions she had given him. Like she had promised, the lights were switched on and she waved at him. “Come on up.” Then she disappeared.

“No, I can’t…,” hissed Steve. “Ma’am, wait! Jane!”

He turned and peered to his left and then to his right. Oh boy, this wasn’t good. He was going into a woman’s room. A student’s room. It was forbidden. Wasn’t it? He cursed again, then stepped forward to grab the pipe going up the building. It took him two quick leaps to reach her open window.

“Woah, you’re fast,” she remarked, looking up from the refrigerator. His shirt was still wrapped around her and she had thankfully put on a pair of jeans. “That’s Lily’s side of the room. You can make yourself comfortable.”

“Wait, listen—”

“Bathroom’s over there. I hope you brought your own toothbrush.”

“Ma’am…”

“Are you hungry? I have a club sandwich in the fridge.”

“That’s not what I…”

“And beer.”

Steve sighed in resignation and stepped fully into the small room. “Yes, thank you.” He was a little hungry. He would eat and then leave. What could go wrong?

Read Part 3

[icefir-windbreaker]

All-Stars -Story Mode- [CHAPTER 7]

It’s been a whole day since we last heard of them, I think it’s time that we find out what happened next after I pulled in another chapter from Google Doc.

                                                       -Chapter 7-

Waking up in another bunker

He had no idea how long he was sleeping after drifting out of consciousness, he was till he slowly drifting back into it til he’s fully awake and in shock as he rose up from the bed he was in.

He was breathing heavily as he looked around the unfamiliar room he’s in and looked for his brother, Frisk, Boris, anything! But… There’s no one there with him. Except-

‘’ ····  ·  ·-··  ·-··  ---  ··--··      ··  ···      ·-  -·  -·--  ---  -·  ·      ····  ·  ·-·  ·  ··--·· ‘’

Cuphead had noticed that beeping noise from the other room, the beep and long beep then it repeats it but in a different pattern. Werner had taught him that sound is the sound of a Morse Code. He can tell what it meant by the beeping:

‘’Hello? Is anyone here?’’

Then a young lady’s voice answered the familiar Morse Code through the mic, ‘’Yeah, I’m here. Can you speak into the microphone please?’’

‘’-·--  ---  ··-      ·-  ·-·  ·      ··-·  ·-  --  ··  ·-··  ··  ·-  ·-·  --··--      -·--  ---  ··-      ·-  ·-·  ·      ---  ·-·      -·--  ---  ··-      ·-  ·-·  ·      -·  ---  - .  ·--  ····  ---      ·-  ·-·  ·      -·--  ---  ··-      ·--  ---  --  ·-  -·  ··--··’’

‘’’’You are familiar, you are or you are not. Who are you woman?’’ Uh, alright, I’m no one you can’t tell, I was in trouble with a bunch of soldiers from another planet, nothing but BIG trouble. After you help me, please don’t talk to me again or go to the police or state authorities about this. Just pretend like we never met. At least do lend a hand here.’’ The woman’s voice continued into the pic. Cuphead listens in closer on this conversion.

‘’··      ·-  --      ···  ---  ·-·  ·-·  -·--  --··--      ··      -·-·  ·-  -·  ·----·  -      -··  ---      ·-  -·  -·--  -  ····  ··  -·  --·      -  ---      ····  ·  ·-··  ·--·      -·--  ---  ··-      ·-·  ··  --·  ····  -      -·  ---  ·-- .’’

‘’I am sorry, I can't do anything to help you right now.’’

‘’The hell? Why can’t you?’’ She asked, then the Morse-Code-giving voice gave her an answer.

‘’-·-·  ---  ·-··  ---  -·  ·  ·-··      ·-·  ·-  -··  ·  -·-·      ··  ···      -  ····  ·      ····  ---  ··-  -·  -··      ---  ··-·      ···-  ··  ···  ·-  ·-·  ··      ·-  -·  -··      -·--  ---  ··-      -  ····  ·      -··  ·  -·-·  ·  ··  ···-  ·  ·-·      ·--  ····  ---  ···  ·      ····  ---  ·--·  ·  -··      ··  -·      -  ····  ·      ·-·  ·  -··      --  ·  ·-·  -·-·  ·  -·  ·-  ·-·  ··  ·  ···      -  ····  ·-  -      -·-·  ·-  -·      ···  ·-  ···-  ·      -·--  ---  ··- .  -  ····  ---  ···  ·      ··-·  ---  ··-  ·-·      --  ·  -·      ·-  ·-·  ·      ···  ---  --  ·  -  ····  ··  -·  --·      --  ---  ·-·  ·      -  ····  ·-  -·      -·--  ---  ··-      -  ····  ··  -·  -·-  --··--      -·--  ---  ··-      ····  ·-  ···-  ·      -  ---      -  ·-·  ··-  ···  -      -  ····  ·  -- .’’

‘’Colonel Radec is the Hound of Visari and you the Deceiver whose hoped in the RED mercenaries that can save you. Those four men are something more than you think, you have to trust them.’’

‘’Who, those men? ‘’Tank’’ Dempsey, Edward Richtofen, Nikolai Belinski and Takeo Masaki? Those men?’’ She questioned to the voice.

‘’-  ····  ·      ···  ·-  --  · .’’

‘’The same.’’

‘’I-I… No, I can’t let them get involved into this. They’re just not like them.’’ Woman objected, ‘’They won’t trust me, I had told Spy after they found me, we can go on our separate ways. They are most unlikely group I was ever told by Spy. So I can’t.’’ She explained.

‘’---  ·-·      ···  ---      -·--  ---  ··-      -  ····  ---  ··-  --·  ····  -  --··--      -  ····  ·  -·--      ·-  ·-·  ·      ···  ---  --  ·  -  ····  ··  -·  --·      --  ---  ·-·  ·      -  ····  ·-  -·      -  ····  ·      --  ---  ···  -      ··-  -·  ·-··  ··  -·-  ·  ·-··  -·--      --·  ·-·  ---  ··-  ·--·      ---  ··-·      --  ·  -·      -·--  ---  ··-  ·----·  ···-  ·      -···  ·  ·  -·      -  ---  ·-··  -·· .’’

‘’Or so you thought, they are something more than the Most Unlikely group of men you've been told.’’

‘’Really now? What made you say it? Just because they go around and fighting the undead while they are trying to Quote-unquote, make a better tomorrow? Or just because they are what they are and I can’t judge a book by it’s cover?’’ She questioned more, clearly annoyed by this response.

‘’-  ····  ·  --      -···  ---  -  ····  --··--      ··      ·-  --      ·---  ··-  ···  -      ···  ·-  -·--  ··  -·  --·      -  ····  ·-  -      -···  ·  -·-·  ·-  ··-  ···  ·      ··      ····  ·  ·-  ·-·  -··      ··-·  ·-·  ---  --      ···-  ··  ···  ·-  ·-·  ··      -  ····  ·-  -      -  ····  ·  -·--      -·-·  ·-  --  ·      -  ---      -  ····  ··  ···      -·-·  ··  -  -·--      ·---  ··-  ···  -      -  ····  ·-·  ·  ·      -··  ·-  -·--  ···      ·-  --·  --- .’’

‘’Them both, I am just saying that because I heard from Visari that they came to this city just three days ago.’’

Woman was stunned by this answer, she then said ‘’Just three days before I came here in this city? What are they here for?’’

‘’··      -  ····  ··  -·  -·-      -  ····  ·  -·--      ·-  ·-·  ·      -··  ·  ···  ·--·  ·  ·-·  ·-  -  ·      ··-·  ---  ·-·      ···  ---  --  ·  -  ····  ··  -·  --·      -  ····  ·-  -      -·-·  ·-  -·      ····  ·  ·-··  ·--·      -  ····  ·  --      ·--  ··  -·      -  ····  ·      ·--  ·-  ·-·      ·-  --·  ·-  ··  -·  ···  -      -  ····  ·      ··  ···  ·- .  -·  ---  -      -  ····  ·      ···  ··-  --  --  ---  -·  ··  -·  --·      -·-  ·  -·--      -·  ---  ·-·      ·----  ·----  ·····      ---  ·-·      ·  ···-  ·  -·      ·-  ··-  ···  -  ·-·  ·-  ·-··  ··  ··-  --      -·-·  ·-  -·      -··  ---      -  ····  ·-  -      ··-·  ---  ·-·      -  ····  ·  -- .  -·  ---  -      ---  -·  ·-··  -·--      -·--  ---  ··-      -·-  -·  ·  ·--      ·--  ····  ·-  -      -  ····  ·  -·--      ·-  ·-·  ·      -··  ---  ··  -·  --·      -···  ··-  -      -  ····  ·  -·--      ·--  ··  ···  ····  ·  -··      -  ---      ·-·  ·  -·-·  ·-·  ··-  ··  -      -·--  ---  ··-      ---  ·-·      ·--  ··  ·-··  ·-··      -···  ·-·  ·  ·-  -·-      -·--  ---  ··-  ·-·      ·--  ··  ·-··  ·-··      -  ··  ·-··  ·-··      -·--  ---  ··-      -···  ·  -·-·  ---  --  ·      ·-  -·      ---  -···  ·  -··  ··  ·  -·  -      ···  ---  ·-··  -··  ··  ·  ·-·      -  ---      -  ····  ·      ····  ·  ·-··  --·  ····  ·-  ···  -      ·  --  ·--·  ··  ·-·  · .’’

‘’I think they are desperate for something that can help them win the war against the ISA. Not the Summoning Key nor 115 or even Australium can do that for them. Not only you knew what they are doing but they wished to recruit you or will break your will till you become an obedient soldier to The Helghast Empire.’’

‘’Why can’t I just kill Visari so they can leave me alone?’’

‘’··      ·-·  ·-  -  ····  ·  ·-·      -·  ---  -      -··  ---      -  ····  ·-  -  --··--      ·-·  ·-  -··  ·  -·-·      ·--  ··  ·-··  ·-··      --  ---  ···  -      ·-··  ··  -·-  ·  ·-··  -·--      -·-  ··  ·-··  ·-··      -·--  ---  ··-      ··  ··-·      -·--  ---  ··-      -  ·-·  ··  ·  -·· .’’

‘’I rather not do that, Radec will most likely kill you if you tried.’’

‘’Story of my life.’’ She groaned as she tried to think up something that could convince the Morse Code voice to think what she’s thinking but then soon gave up when she realized; she had no other choice but to trust on the Origins Crew along with RED Team.

‘’Alright fine, I can trust them but don’t expect me to come yelling at you if they failed.’’ The woman maintained into the microphone. Then the voice gives a last message to her.

‘’·-  ·-··  ·-·  ··  --·  ····  -  --··--      --·  ---  ---  -··      ·-··  ··-  -·-·  -·-      ·-  -·  -··      -  ·-·  -·--      -·  ---  -      -  ---      -··  ··  ·      ---  ··-  -      -  ····  ·  ·-·  · .’’

‘’Alright, good luck and try not to die out there.’’

‘’Ovy…’’

Cuphead then placed his hand on the bandages, even the one place where his eye was, has this woman saved him? If it is so, then where are his friends?

Despite being injured and cracked, he got out of bed and walked away from the room he’s in and into another where the lady’s voice is. When he peeked inside the room, there is a lady in there, with glasses, wore a purple collar neck button up shirt and a black skirt with black stockings (with a few tears on the right side) and heels. She had black hair and green eyes.

Cuphead had found himself looking at her for, what? 2 minutes? but to him it felt like 20 in total. He then thought to himself ‘’Is this the lady that saved me?’’ as he placed his hand on the cracked, bandaged eye as he wondered more: Is this woman ‘THE’ and underline ‘THE’, Mrs. Pauling?

She then felt like she’s being watched, she then slowly grabs a gun as she thought ‘’Please don’t let it be Radec…’’ then turned to point at no one, then looked down at Cuphead and jumped just a little.

‘’Holy shi- Uh…’’ she said as she looked at him, silence filled the room with awkwardness.

*Well, this is rather awkward now…

‘’Well…. I didn’t expect you to wake up…’’ She said as she lowered the gun a little, she is cautious and rather not taking changes to any human, zombie, cup or anything. Cuphead looked at her and can tell by her expression, he’s used to this behavior to the bosses since he and his brothers had lost the bet to the Devil.

‘’I didn’t expect to be here.’’ he replied, he slowly took his hand away from the bandage, feeling confused and curious about this situation.

‘’Uh…’’ she said as she scratched the back of her head, feeling like she’s going to upset him if she tell him what had happened but that to winch Cuphead asked ‘’W-where’s…’’

‘’You see…’’ she continued, ‘’Where’s Frisk? Mugs a-and Boris? Are they alright please?’’ he pleaded to her. ‘’Y-yeah… and no,’’ she answered ‘’They are okay after staining lot of injures but sadly…. They…’’ She hesitated before confessing ‘’They were captured by the… Helghast Soldiers.’’

*...

‘’WHAT?!’’ Cuphead yelled as his only working eye grew wide as well with his straw turning into exclamation mark, ‘’O-oh no! H-How long was I out?!’’ he demanded to the strange woman who then answered ‘’Only 2 weeks.’’

‘’WHAAAT?!!?’’ he screamed but the woman laughed ‘’No, not really, it’s only been at least 3 hours after you’re knocked out by a bomb.’’ then she laughed.

‘’That’s not funny lady! That’s not funny!’’ Cuphead yelled at her before saying ‘’And about the person on the other line that does Morse code? Was that part of the hilarity?!’’

‘’Ha ha.. No, that’s not part of a joke to be honest, the Morse-Code-loving person saying that Colonel Radec guy… Whatever he is, is with a Empire to winch was run by someone named Visari, had Radec as his bodyguard and from what I can tell that I’m on the run from those guys.’’ she explained.

Cuphead looked at her with anger, ‘’And you aren’t there to save my friends? Some brave lady you are!’’

‘’I am so sorry but I can’t risk being seen by them.’’ She insisted, ‘’And from what I can tell you really wanted to rescue them now. But I’d can’t let you go if you healed first!’’

Exploring the Bunker

‘’I can heal myself after I rescue them lady!’’ Cuphead yelled again, ‘’Besides, what’s it take to stop me from do so?’’

‘’They can’t but I can.’’ the woman with glasses answered, ‘’There’s no point of stopping Radec ether, I have medicine that Medic had, come with me.’’ she continued as she walked out of the room and into the hallway with Cuphead following close behind her and beside her as they walked down the bunker’s hallway.

‘’Just who the heck are you lady? Are that Miss Pauling they were going to rescue you?!’’ Cuphead demanded, she nodded yes, ‘’Yeah I am, it’s unusual to see and meet someone like you being caught in the crossfire.’’

‘’My brother and friends had been captured in the crossfire! And you had saved me instead of all of them? I would’ve be captured with them for the sake of it!’’ Cuphead jeered Miss. Pauling who nodded as she understood of her actions. ‘’I do admit, it was a bad choice on my part to do so but you were injured- err, cracked even.’’

‘’I’ve been through worse Pauling!’’

‘’Listen, cupboy-’’

‘’Cuphead! Do I have to tell you my name to you?! CUP. HEAD!’’ Cuphead sneered as Miss. Pauling placed her hands behind her back. ‘’Alright Cuphead, let’s just calm down for a minute, I better get that medicine Medic had then I’ll let you go but with precaution this time. Deal?’’ She calmly offered to the cup who is breathing slowly.

‘’I…. I…..’’

Then he cried ‘’I just want my brother and my friends back.’’

Miss Pauling may be a type of person that should be emotionally disconnected from others but she had to comfort him so she kneed down to his lever and hugged him, rubbing his back a little.

*Cuphead…. *We will get them back…..

[ghostmartyr]

Pokémon Black 2 Randomized Nuzlocke Run [Part 7]

It is time for badge number seven.

Lesgo.

Vertex (Luxray)

Caspet (Gengar)

Nessy (Milotic)

Diego (Gardevoir)

Photon (Rayquaza)

Cerberus (Dodrio)

Squad goals.

Why won’t Unova Gyms ever just let me leave?

And apparently I’m not going through Twist Mountain? I’m getting a lift on a plane?

If that’s the case, that’s happening later. I think I’m going to get Cerberus up to level 40 in the sad death tower before I do anything else. I don’t want to have members of my team lagging consistently. You will all be useful. I will make it happen.

Also, something I haven’t mentioned yet (...I think, it’s been a while to get this far) is that Pokemon Breeders in this gen seem to be available to fight every single time you enter that route. Not like you can fight them if you want. After beating them, if you leave and go back to the route, they will do the exclamation point thing.

This is annoying.

Route 7, also known as that place before the sad death tower, has one.

It is not irritating enough to conjure up hate for. And yet.

Flash forward into the future a bit later, and we have a team where everyone’s above or at 40 except for... Photon. Photon, my friend, we’re just gonna slap the Exp. Share on you and continue with the plot. Your legendary status means me stacking the deck with levels is less important.

I can’t believe this place has a purpose in this game. Or that I get to fly in a plane (I assume, my memory on the sequel games is even worse than my memory for Black and White starting out). There’s something weird about using a plane to get around in a Pokemon game. Doesn’t feel natural.

Oh well, too bad so sad.

...Lentimas Town.

I have no memory of this place.

Hey, Bianca’s coming with us! Yay!

I really have no memory of this place, but there’s some Fire pokemon in Reversal Mountain, apparently, and also Professor Juniper reminds everyone that Black and White happened, so it makes no sense for Team Plasma to be trying to wake up a dragon; they’re all accounted for after all.

My exploits from last game mattered, you guys. They really did happen.

No, but I’m easy to please. Any time the games reference games that happened in the past for the current game, I am made a happy camper. Us and N catching a legendary dragon each is a good thing to keep in continuity.

I’m starting to maybe remember this place... maybe?

I guess we don’t stay here long, so time to not really care. I do continue to like how the setting is not an exact copy of the previous games, though. There’s a lot of repetition that comes from this being a sequel, but everything’s been thought out well enough that it really does feel like a new journey.

Now see, my question is if there’s a cave to this Reversal Mountain, and is it marked with a different title. I’m catching something very soon, but do I have the option of picking between outside Reversal Mountain and inside, or do I... perchance... get both?

It’s probably just one and I should just march into the grass.

I don’t wanna.

Ah, but it looks like I have to step through grass anyway. But there is the option of dark grass vs. normal grass.

I am too battle-weary and scarred. Normal grass.

!!!! A Normal pokemon for the normal grass! Hi Miltank! Let us be the best of friends and not roll each other into death. Photon’s the best bet for not accidentally killing the little lady (I did not check this with numbers and have no plans to).

Only while I was typing, Miltank used Bide, and I missed that, so Nessy with her excellent HP had to go out and deal with the consequences of Photon’s one attack. Nessy and Twister are taking Miltank down at a safe rate. She’s in the orange, so throwing time.

While she’s using Rollout.

Of course.

Hey, first ball! We’re Pokemon Going over here!

Her name is Bessy. Because it is.

But whoops, I need to head back to the Pokemon Center for a hot second and get her out of the Graves box. You’re not dead yet, darling.

Dark grass has Luxio.

It also leads to a strange house instead of fun cave time.

See, right there in the title. Can has pokemon?

Coool. Want to join my gang?

Nessy and Twister seem to be an okay catching combo. Let’s see if we can get it working twice in a row.

Damn it, Nessy. Your first one left him in the green. The green. Sigh.

Farewell, unnamed shark friend.

(he woulda been bruce)

Ahoy random Gigalith in the upstairs of the house with the moving furniture I can’t cap because these are stills. Sadly I’m not in the mood to deal with Sturdy, so I’m going to run from those instead of harvesting them.

Awww, there’s a Castform downstairs. Plus a Spell Tag.

Then the furniture moves and clears up a doorway. Behind which is a trainer.

I feel like a lot of the NPCs we meet in these games have very hard lives. Hello Sentret in the middle of the room. Are you keeping this one company?

Ludicolo is in the front room.

Caspet learns Dark Pulse. Bye-bye, Night Shade.

Waaaaaait. Wait. Aren’t you the ghost girl from the bridge in the last games? I remember you! Is this where you get something to do instead of just being odd? Note that it doesn’t count if it’s an event thing that needs a code or internet or special event items!

She’s looking for her parents.

And her Abra.

....Then a wild Abra shows up.

Is that scripted, or did the Randomizer just give me an amazing gift?

Weepinbell back downstairs.

I go through another door, and get a Full Heal for my trouble. With added wild Octillery. Fuck you, Octillery. You are banned from all my runs forever.

Ooooo wild Haxorus. Look at all these things I can’t have. Downstairs has a stray Riolu. The trouble I go through for a... Dusk Stone. Yeah, okay, that’s nice to have. Toxicroak is also here.

Then back upstairs, suddenly Gible. What’s this place usually supposed to have?

The second floor’s chairs have moved, so I go through one of the upstairs doors. Another trainer room. Yay. With a Mr. Mime. Yay.

I’m really sorry about your life/undeath, NPC Ghost Girl.

Oh, neat. Lunar Wing.

I have no memory of which legendary that belongs to. I want to guess Cresselia, but I don’t know if it’s even in this game. I do know it’s a gen four legendary, which would make sense for the sidequest feel of this house.

Oh wait it doesn’t matter because Randomized Nuzlocke.

...Well fine, but I’d still like to know.

That makes me feel surprisingly sad.

One last door to check out. Empty but for Golett (want) and a Rare Candy. Time to leave.

Back outside there’s an Exeggcute I wouldn’t have wanted. The normal grass has Whismur.

There was a cave after all. Ugh. I can’t believe this counts as the same route as outside. Cave and grass should get to be different.

Heeey! Bianca! Wait, before we team up and I abuse your healing for exp, I need to check the other side of the cave.

Oh. The other side of the cave has a Max Repel and that’s it. Back to Bianca, I guess. And she’s psyched for Heatran, which is a very relatable feel.

Zoroark and Tangrowth for the first encounter of the cave. I say, pretending it matters. Stoutland can also be found here. Knowing their propensity for knowing Crunch, I think maybe something not Caspet can be in the front. Photon, gain your own exp for a change.

Crawdaunt is another feature. It’s a dark, Dark cave.

I was checking to see if Cerberus can learn Acrobatics. No, but he can learn Fly. You know, that classic Dodrio usage. Fly. Which he is absolutely learning.

Aww, a wild Togepi. It’s gone now.

I love getting to wander with someone who handles the healing. It’s so nice battling without stress. Also known as grinding without needing to use up items.

Haa. See, normally you’d be right, but.

Huh. There’s a Magikarp and a Weedle through a different passage. Neat. You will not be missed. Then we come across a bizarrely gen-appropriate pair of Tympole.

Can Triple Battles not be a thing? I don’t care for them. They make me worry. Arguably I could help myself by arranging my team so I would have a good comp for whenever I fell into one, but where would the fun in that sane choice be.

Dust clouds come with Munchlax. Neato.

We’re in a legendary’s nest. They’re all like this.

...Why can you find Luxray and Ninjask here???

Ditto for Steelix and Porygon. Yay for Randomizer randomizing every single room of an area. It’s cool, but in the larger places it can be really disorienting. A male Nidoran also says hello.

I don’t know where to find the Magma Stone to get Heatran, so we’re done with Reversal Mountain, I believe. Geez I hope that’s the name of this place. I’m too lazy to check at the moment.

I have escaped!

And found a Shiny Stone. Win.

I didn’t recognize this place, then I remembered. Water. Bay. Post-game trauma. They messed with the map to keep things interesting.

What.

My curiosity is piqued.

But I want to get something random in the waves before I investigate.

Um.

Well this is awkward.

Level 39.

Photon should not be out front for this. Nessy?

Okay. Nessy gets Regice in the red. Regice knows Curse and Ancient Power. I do have a Master Ball. I can’t deny that I’m seriously tempted by it, but we’re going to try doing this like a standard trainer first.

Net Ball doesn’t work because of course it doesn’t (I just wanted to use it because Surfing), and Regice knows Superpower. Ah yes, the Regis and their. Stuff. First Ultra Ball doesn’t get anywhere. Same for second. Icy Wind is Regice’s last move.

My team has no Fire or Fighting on it. I miss having those options.

Have I been able to buy Timer Balls anywhere? Those would be nice to have right about now, as my Ultra Ball supply dwindles.

I am out of Ultra Balls.

Look, Pokemon Go legendary catching can be rough. You only get so many balls, and even if you do everything perfectly, it still might run on you.

But you don’t end up spending twenty minutes trying to catch one thing.

Seconds after I type that:

Heeeeeyo.

What do I name it, though?

Refrigerator.

That doesn’t fit.

Refriger8r.

Okay, so I have to stock up on Ultra Balls, and possibly also healing options depending on my mood when I look at the prices. Then we go see what Undella Bay and Route 14 have to offer.

The Undella Pokemon Center only has Luxury and Dive Balls. :(

My beloved Timer. Where...?

And then I bought 50 Ultra Balls.

I’m going to sell some stuff.

Okay Bay, what do you have for me?

Yeah, I can make this work.

Assuming I don’t accidentally kill it.

Thank goodness for Nessy still knowing Twister. Gottem.

His name is now Zentrotta. I think we can agree he’d be happier if I hadn’t caught him. Tragedy at its finest.

Caspet is back up front, and for now Nessy will carry the Exp. Share. She’s not had much to go up against, so she’s lagging a tad.

Aw, there’s a little Deerling on the water. Aaand it’s gone.

Hello what is this.

Indeed.

...I have questions I can’t really make myself care about enough to type.

So this guy only moves if we beat him, and before we get the chance to beat him we have to pass some game-acknowledged strength test. I probably need another badge or something. But there’s enough ground to walk back and forth, so what have you got for me, Seaside Cave?

Cool beans.

Nessy, come help not kill it.

Yay, caught.

His name is Blimperton now. Welcome to the box.

Outside, the deep water spots can be Venomoth. How pleasant.

Jelli to you too, good sir.

Huh, okay, they just give you a random Jellicent encounter here.

Game. I was just trying to speed along to the Pokemon Center. Please.

Unfezant down, Simisage down, Vertex can be in for Samurott. Level 41, so I’m. not as overleveled as I usually am except for Caspet. Caspet has reached 47 and I don’t mind her being completely overpowered.

For an update, since I think I’m pretty bad about keeping track of their levels in this: Caspet is 47, Nessy is 43, Vertex is 43, Diego is 44, Photon is 45, Cerberus is 43. Everyone is healthy and alive.

Geez I hate Triple Battles. Random trainers don’t share my feelings. This is an annoyance.

ROTATION BATTLES AREN’T THAT MUCH BETTER, OTHER RANDOM TRAINER. STOP THINKING YOU’RE SPECIAL JUST BECAUSE YOU’RE AN ACE OR A COOL OR WHATEVER THE HECK YOUR TITLE IS I DIDN’T READ IT.

And I can’t continue down through Route 14 because there’s a block of people in the way. So I guess all that’s left to do is check out what the sequel to this route has in store for me.

Last game it did not have anything I wanted.

But this time...!

Eh. I’ll catch you I guess.

Her name’s Tux now.

Meanwhile, in the dark grass...

Yep.

Wormadam, too. Such grass. Much excite.

Off up to Route 13.

New route means yet another new pokemon. ...After we fight a bunch of trainers because I care more about levels than pokemon I’m hoping to never use at the moment.

Several minutes later, the only other trainers are through grass, so let’s go!

Eyo. I don’t think I’ve had you before.

Cerberus, are you up for helping?

Well, one hit almost took half your health. So let’s say no.

Nessy!

...You know, given the amount of damage it’s doing. I think I’m going to Surf and risk fainting before it kills Nessy. Aaand... yeah. Mienshao out.

This grass also has Sandile. And Cascoon.

Nothing I have knows Cut. Languish there for all days.

That Ranger wants a Triple Battle.

Why is this route like this.

Hey, a Heatran! Bianca, guess what!

Oh so you don’t need Cut. Meh. I’m not in the mood.

Professor Juniper and Bianca say hello in town. Bianca, walk about twenty steps to the right so you can find something neat. You’ll love it, promise.

But no, it’s time to listen to an old lady talk about the Giant Chasm. I don’t wanna do that, either. I want my badges. I maybe should have taken the aquarium route to speed that along, but I don’t know if that would actually do anything.

Wait, I was spamming A. Was there a directive in there?

Hm. I sense plot ahead.

This villain understands me.

Oh cool battle time.

Russell, buddy, you run almost as much as blondie scarf from gen 4. Take a chill pill. You have won all the good big brother points you possibly could just by caring about a Purrloin this long.

So everything’s telling us to go to Opelucid. For Dragons.

Hard pass, where’s the surfer Gym? Water sounds way friendlier. I’m going to see if that one’s blocked off or not.

DAMN IT.

The janitor won’t let us pass. ;-;

Okay fine, I guess we’re heading to Opelucid. And plot, probably. The plot is of no interest to me. This is true in pretty much every single one of these games. I’m in it for the pokemon. The human with their human troubles are way less fun.

New route! What will it have for us?

I had to embrace fun when I saw one of the grass patches shaking. Our first route with a wiggly grass option! And it is...?

I’ll gladly take it!

...If I can catch it!

...Preferably without anyone dying!

I’m going to let Photon take a stab. Crunch should be super effective, but Photon doesn’t have STAB adding to it, and Metagross has rocking Defense. So this might be pathetically sad, but nothing should die.

PHOTON.

FRIEND.

NOT FOOD.

Three Ultra Balls in, I am sad.

But we get it! Huzzah!

Its name is Stormy. :)

Ouch, Caspet’s trying to learn Destiny Bond.

Caspet?

You’re not dying. This is the definition of a useless move.

What else does this here grass hold when it’s not wiggling?

ELEKID. Noooo. Why must we always pass like ships in the night... Claydol is also here.

The dark grass’ first entry is Jynx and Magikarp. Chingling is also here. Buizel too.

Cerberus has learned Drill Peck! Oh happy days!

Normal grass has Vaporeon, Huntail, and Spinda to go with what we’ve already seen.

Vertex is moving up front, and Diego is getting the Exp. Share instead of Cerberus for the time being.

Another bridge, another route.

Another set of trainers that really make me want to have a Fire type.

There’s dark grass on one side of the bridge, normal grass on the other. A pass through on my bike didn’t get anything to pop out of the dark grass, so normal grass wins the prize for this route’s catch.

Before that, there are trainer battles.

Of the Triple variety.

yay

Ooooooh. I like this. I like this a lot.

Vertex, do not murder.

Vertex follows instructions, paralyzes Vileplume, and dodges getting poisoned twice. This is why he’s allowed to live. One Ultra Ball later, and new friend acquired.

Named... Bongo.

Geez, this grass also has Mamoswine. We’re not fighting that. The water’s dark spots get Zebstrika.

Uh.

So she shoves me out.

Rude. I’m the protagonist. I go where I want.

I’m starting to rush a little since this part is getting long and I haven’t even hit the badge town, but hey! I do remember this sequence! I remembered it belonging to a different game, but A for effort, right?

Made it to Opelucid.

Since the game itself suggests via Iris to go to Route 9 first, I’m guessing I should clear up anywhere that offers trainers to fight before trying the Gym. Dragon is a pain anyway. I don’t have anything except Nessy’s Twister that’s super effective against it. I think even at the level I’m at, it should be okay, but I also think it could go incredibly badly, which I don’t want.

But before that, Route 11 didn’t force me to go through any grass, so I still have a pokemon to catch there. Let’s watch.

Huh, interesting. ...Vertex, let’s swap you out before something unfortunate happens. Though it is level 36, and he does know Crunch... Yeah, we’re going to be stupid. Magnitude 7 doesn’t do a threatening amount of damage. Yay.

She is caught, and her name shall be Winn.

Now the other side of Opelucid, after healing up.

Miltank! But we have a Miltank. Next.

I like.

Vertex. Critical hits are for trainer battles. Sigh. Farewell, Route 9. I think we could have been great together, but alas. Now to go through all the everything else to do in this route and then go finally get the seventh badge.

Hm. I think maybe I’ll just get everyone on the team up to 50, then go for it. Nice, even number.

Other things of note: I have found a Mart with Quick Balls. The world is bright. But for now, grinding. ...Against Torchic and Deerling, apparently. Maybe I want other grass. Oh, but dude. Glaceon in the dark grass. Nice. Ha, randomized and still offering super effective options outside scary gyms. Golduck and Nidorina are here, too. And Braviary and Pansage.

-winds the clock forward a few hours-

K, we’ve got folks at level 50 now. So, Drayden?

Dragons.

Cerberus is going to sit in first for a while. He’s on the fragile side, but his Attack and Speed are good, and Flying should be neutral to everything in the Gym. Same cloth as Caspet, only physical. Nessy might take over just for the comfort of tankiness, but this is where we start.

First person in the Gym has one level 46 Fraxure.

Dragons are scary.

Oh fuck you.

Fuck. That’s partially on me. If I had used Drill Peck instead of Fly, Fraxure would have been busy Dragon Dancing and would have done zero damage. But I used Fly to try to hit Fraxure hard while avoiding any of its attacks, and.

Look, the screencap’s right there.

Fuck.

Nessy’s going in, under the theory that nothing on my team is going before Dragon Dance x2 Fraxure, but Nessy’s the most likely option for surviving.

It uses Taunt so it doesn’t matter.

Great.

Great.

Cerberus, I like Dodrio. An Adamant Dodrio? Wonderful. You will be missed. Fly will be missed. Many things about this feel awful.

Bye.

Stormy is a Jolly Metagross that’s a little quick tempered.

Welcome. You’ll be given the Exp. Share while your new friends try very hard to make it through the rest of this Gym without casualties.

-drums fingers-

With Dragon Dance being a move everything in this Gym is probably going to know, I do not want to play the long game with any of the trainers. I want to go in and kill everything in one hit.

...Caspet is in front.

-hides eyes behind hands-

-gives Caspet a Spell Tag-

One trainer down as planned.

IIIIIII hate this gym.

Druddigon has Crunch. Things to keep in mind.

So now we have the most obnoxious part of this Gym. I get to choose between Rotation and Triple Battle for the next peg up it. My usual path says I do both. In case you haven’t noticed, I hate Triple Battles. Doing one is not high on my list of desired outcomes.

But I’d feel weird avoiding it. Famous last words. -sigh- Caspet, Vertex, Nessy. That’s the order. Let’s do this.

Easy part done. Rotation Battle win. Ugh.

For the sake of my sanity, I’m giving Caspet all three of my Rare Candy. Yes, I have a favorite, yes, it’s the closest thing I have to a starter. If I’m putting her so close to the chopping block, I’m going to make sure she’s fully equipped. Druddigons are surviving to attack her right now, and that’s no bueno.

Triple Battle. Weeee.

It ends in a round because Caspet wins at life. Awesome. Okay.

All that’s left is Drayden.

This guy’s face is a lot less scary when it isn’t up close.

Sooooooo. Level 46 Druddigon is first. Shadow Ball finishes it. Flygon is next. ...That one, I think I can trust to Nessy. Flygon isn’t as much about hard hits.

Level 46 again. Crunch gets a critical hit that just barely keeps Nessy in the green, Nessy uses Surf. Surf brings Flygon to a sliver of red, so I go with Surf again. Hopefully Flygon’s other moves don’t do more damage than a critical hit Crunch, or Drayden feels like healing it.

Yeah, Drayden goes with a Hyper Potion.

...Flygon’s next Crunch gets a critical hit too, what the hell.

Surf after that faints it, though. So that’s two out of three down.

Drayden’s last pokemon is Haxorus. Nessy’s too far in the red to keep in without healing, and Haxorus is high on the Dragon Dance strat list. But if Caspet can’t get it in one hit, I’m pretty confident in Haxorus’ ability to fuck Caspet up.

But I’m honestly pretty confident in Haxorus’ ability to fuck my entire team up. Caspet would be the best bet for ending it fast. ...So, you know. Caspet. Go. Go. not die.

Level 48 Haxorus. Yaaaaaaaaaaay.

CASPET YOU BEAUTIFUL GHOST.

THAT’S BADGE SEVEN.

WE’RE NOT ALL ALIVE BUT ENOUGH OF US ARE.

AND I WAS PREWARNED ABOUT GETTING TALKED TO OUTSIDE ABOUT UNOVA’S MYTHOLOGY, BUT FOR NOW THIS PART IS OVER, THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: Gift-Giving - ao3 link

Fandom: Flash, DC's Legends of Tomorrow Pairing: Barry Allen/Iris West/Leonard Snart; Barry Allen/Iris West; Barry Allen/Leonard Snart; Leonard Snart/Iris West

Summary: Leonard Snart shows up for Christmas to gift Iris and Barry with a warning.

Then he shows up again. And again. And again - and each time he brings a gift.

(And then, just when they decide to do something about it, things get complicated.)

A/N: For @sproutwings for the @dccwrarepairswap

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For Sandrine Shaw, who requested Iris/Len/Barry for the DC Rare Pair Swap

It starts, Iris is pretty sure, with Christmas.

Honestly, it probably started a hell of a lot earlier than that given the intense looks being thrown around that evening - thanks for not mentioning your ongoing flirtation with a supervillain earlier, Barry - but that's certainly when she first found out about it.

So, Christmas.

Snart breaks into their home (apparently to give them a warning, of all things), but his eyes are fixed on Barry from the start and suddenly Barry's pushing Snart up against the wall (is it wrong that she thinks that's hot? because it is super hot) and there's even more intense looks - you know what, she's just going to call it eye-fucking, because it is totally eye-fucking - and that's about when Iris decides to insert herself into the conversation and Snart's attention turns to her.

Which, hoo boy.

Somehow she didn't notice it until she had his full attention on her, but that man is fine.

They say some stuff - Iris honestly can't recall what, except she distinctly remembers she put her foot in her mouth at some point, but luckily Snart just looked amused - and next thing you know Snart's walking out of their lives.

"Okay," Barry says, running his hand through his hair. "We've got to warn -"

"It's not going to happen immediately, right?" Iris asks intently.

Barry blinks at her. "Uh, no. Not till tonight, but -"

"There's nothing we can do until we find them, right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"So theoretically you could just text Cisco and get him started on looking and go over in, hmm, thirty minutes or so, right?"

"Uh," Barry says. "Yeah, I could. But -"

"Good," Iris growls, and yanks him into the bedroom.

(It's mean of her, she knows it, they're not even officially together at that point but she and Barry have been hooking up here and there on the downlow since forever and damnit that was hot.)

"Okay," Barry says breathlessly when they're done. "It's good to know you think he's unbearably attractive, too."

"Oh yeah," Iris says. "Emphasis on unbearable." She sighs. "Too bad."

"I know, right?" Barry says wistfully.

Iris pats him on the shoulder. "You just keep up whatever you're doing and he'll be a good guy in no time. He warned us about this time, didn't he? And refused to join in with the bad guy plan?"

Barry looks cheered by that thought.

Of course, then he has to run to fight Weather Wizard and Trickster but yeah, whatever.

It's not like Snart's going to be anything more than the occasional extra zing to get them revved up.

In fact, Iris bets that they won't see him again for months.

It's a good thing no one is there when she thinks that, because she turns out to be epically wrong.

"Uh, Barry's not here right now," Iris says to Snart, who is typing away at her computer.

"I know," Snart says. "Off fighting - whatever it is this week, I take it?"

Iris opens her mouth to correct him, realizes she doesn't know what it is Barry's up to right now, and ends up shrugging.

"You ought to make a chart or something," Snart advises. "Keep track of 'em. There's got to be some repeats eventually, yeah?"

"There's only repeats when we don't beat them the first time," Iris says. She's bantering with him. Why is she bantering with him?

"Or when they break out of prison," Snart reminds her.

"Speaking of which," Iris says, "are you here to deliver another warning or something? Because I can give the message to Barry if you like."

And then he can leave.

Snart clicks his tongue instead. "For shame, Miss West," he says. "You can do much better than being Barry Allen's answering machine secretary - a charming image as that is."

"Snart," Iris says flatly. "If you don't have a good reason to be here, go away."

He turns away from the computer at last and flashes her a smirk that would totally give her shivers if she didn't know better, damnit body, stop shivering.

(She does know better, it's just that her body disagrees.)

He gets up. "I'll leave you be, then," he says. "Since my presence is so unwelcome."

He does make a point of brushing by Iris as he walks to the door, the slightest hint of strong shoulder and lean waist and clearly that's what confuses her enough to say, "I didn't say that..."

It earns her another smirk.

"Snart," Iris says, recovering herself just before he leaves. "Why did you come here?"

"Oh, you know," he says. "Just wanted to borrow your internet."

And then he's gone.

Jackass.

(But oh, such an unfairly pretty jackass.)

Obviously, Iris immediately goes to check the computer, where he hasn't even bothered to close the Internet tabs he was using. She'll check for all sorts of spyware and -

Huh.

Is that -?

Wait. That means the Fire Commissioner is -

With the Darbiniyans?!

Holy crap, if Iris can verify this, this is going to be the biggest story since the Flash. And better than that, it doesn't involve the Flash - that'll show her stupid editor that she can do more than just, quote, blog about him like some lovestruck fangirl, end quote -

She settles down in front of the computer and begins to work.

It doesn't actually occur to her until much later that maybe Leonard "your writing has a strong point of view" Snart left this for her as a gift.

"This is amazing, Barry," Iris gushes. "Oh my god, everything is so good."

"I know, right?" Barry says, slurping down some more noodles. "I'd just about given up hope of finding a decent Thai place ever since Siam Palace closed."

"I had given up," Iris says. "Where'd you hear of this one? I must've walked right by it a dozen times and never noticed it, it's such a hole in the wall."

She's expecting agreement, but what she gets is an awkward silence.

"Barry?"

"Uh," he says. "It's kinda an awkward story."

Iris' eyebrows go up. "Then I definitely want to hear it."

"Okay," Barry says. "So. Um. Snart broke into the house."

"I know," Iris says, a little confused. "I was there both times."

"Well," Barry says shiftily. "Let's say maybe it was more than two times..."

"Barry!" It isn't, necessarily, a disapproving exclamation; but really she'd like to be kept informed of these things.

"Just, like, twice more!" Barry protests. "The first time he just had some more information for me, that's all."

"And the second?"

"The second time, he was sitting at the dining room table chowing down some takeout Thai," Barry says. "I asked him why he was there, he wouldn't give me a straight answer -"

Several minutes of flirtatious banter, Iris translates.

"And then he just - left. Without explaining." Barry shrugs. "It was weird. But, well, he did leave the Thai food behind, and I'd just been out for a run, and it turned out to be amazing and there was a menu in the bag, so..."

Iris tries to hide a smirk. Of course.

"What?" Barry asks, suspicious.

"Has it ever occurred to you that that might have been his excessively convoluted way of tipping you off about the Thai place?" Iris asks.

It seems obvious to her, but Barry looks dumbstruck at the idea.

"But why would he do that?" Barry asks.

"I don't know," Iris says. "Why keep tipping you off about bad guys? Why leave me the lead for the story that's going to make my career? I don't know. Maybe he wants to be friends."

She thinks about how Snart looks at Barry.

She thinks about how Snart looks at her.

"...possibly more," she allows.

"More?" Barry asks. "But -" He flushes. "I mean. I'm taken. Wait. I am taken, right?"

"We're definitely dating," Iris confirms, hiding a smile. "But I don't think he's just interested in you."

"But...oh. Oh. Do you really think..?"

Iris shrugs. "No idea," she says. "It's just a shot in the dark."

"But, if he is..." Barry starts, then trails off.

"If he is?"

"I mean. What's our response? We're both taken, right? So we've got to let him down gently." Barry looks a bit disappointed at the thought. More than a bit. He looks positively wistful, and Iris knows perfectly well that it isn't because he'd rather be dating Snart than her. There's no one alive that Barry would rather be dating but her; that's one of the staples of her life. "Anyway, seems kind of weird to me. Why would anyone hit on a pair of people he knows are dating each other, anyway?"

"Barry," Iris says, putting her box of take-out aside. She's going to want to have her full attention on this conversation - one she's been meaning to have for a while, but couldn't quite figure out how to broach. She didn't want Barry to feel like he isn't enough for her or anything, after all. This, however, is as perfect a lead-up as she could've possibly hoped for.

Another gift from Snart, if he's smart enough to have figured this out.

He probably is.

"We need to talk," she adds.

"Yeah?" he asks, looking concerned. Those were the four scariest words in the English language to Barry, who preferred to avoid honest and open communication whenever possible. They'd have to work on that. "What about?"

"Nothing bad," Iris assures him. "Tell me, have you ever heard of polyamory...?"

Of course, right after they have that extremely promising conversation, they get word from Felicity that Snart and Rory have left Central City to go save the world via a time-traveling spaceship or something - she wasn't entirely sure, since she was working entirely off of a series of over-excited texts and photos from Ray Palmer, but that seemed like the gist of it.

"Great," Iris says. "You overshot it."

"When I said there was good in him, I meant I wanted to be the good in him," Barry whines. "Not that he should go save the world!"

"Not that you mind."

"No, not really. I'm really happy for him, actually, you know? He's finally realized he can be more than just a villain."

Iris smiles and shakes her head. "I wouldn't worry," she says. "He'll be back."

"How are you so sure?"

"Remember what my dad said about him? He comes by every few months and hits something in Central? And you yourself told me he refused point-blank to leave Central. This is his city, Barry. He'd sooner die than leave it for good."

They both leave that conversation reassured, but Iris has cause to regret her words soon enough.

"He's dead," Barry says dully, his head in her lap. "He sacrificed himself to save the world. Rory was - in pieces. I dunno. It was bad."

"I can't believe it," Iris says. She feels numb. Snart, so full of life and smirks and opportunity - dead?

Surely not.

And yet, it seems like it's true.

Iris goes out and catches Rory before he goes back with the Legends.

"I'm sorry," she blurts out.

He pauses and stares at her.

"About Snart," she says.

"He did a stupid thing," Rory says. His voice is gruff and his eyes are distant. His hands tremor. "His choice, I guess."

"So what if it was? It still sucks balls," Iris says.

Her crudeness makes it through where her sympathy didn't, earning a bark of surprise from him.

"Well, lookit you," he says, the corners of his mouth turning up, just a bit. "Got some spirit in you after all. Guess Snart really was onto something when he set out to land you and your boy."

Iris freezes. She'd hoped, of course, and Barry had as well, but... "He really was interested?"

Rory nods. "Definitely," he says. "Half the reason he signed up for this whole pile of crap."

Iris frowns at him, noticing how he still looked terrible: bags under his eyes, skinnier, smelling of beer even so early in the morning.

"If you're not doing well on the Legends, you can always come to us," she tells him. "Team Flash would be more than happy to have you."

Rory looks surprised again. "Thanks," he finally says. "I'll keep that in mind."

And then he goes.

She goes home - Barry's in the office, finishing all the work he put aside for the alien thing - and, in a fit of nostalgia, orders Thai.

She's halfway through her favorite curry when someone says, "Damn, I love that place."

Iris jumps halfway out of her skin and twists to look at -

Snart.

Snart?!

"What are you doing here?!" she yelps.

He shrugs. "Never could resist good Thai." A smirk. "Particularly good Thai and a beautiful woman."

Iris shakes her head to clear it. "Stop flirting for literally one minute, will you? I thought you were dead. They said you died destroying that Oculus thing - Rory thinks you're dead! He's mourning you!"

Snart scowls. "Yeah, I know. Can't seem to get a hold of him to tell him to knock it off."

Iris mouths the words 'knock it off' to herself in utter disbelief.

"It was a nice thing you did for him, though, inviting him here," Snart adds. "You should get him to follow through on that. Then maybe I could talk to him..."

"Is there any reason you haven't talked to him already?" Iris demands. "He deserves to know!"

"Know what?"

"That you're not dead and gone, maybe?!"

Snart smirks. "Sorry to be the one to tell you, Miss West," he drawls. "But you're only half right there."

Iris is trying to figure out what he means when he reaches forward, aiming for the box of rice, and his hand goes right through it.

Iris stares.

"I am dead," Snart says. "Just - not quite gone."

It turns out that Snart has issues being seen by people affected by temporal radiation, which means all the Legends.

And, most annoyingly, Barry.

She says 'most annoyingly' because Barry is an extremely bad liar about it.

"So Snart is a ghost, but I can't see him. I think I get it," Barry says, fixed smile on his face. "That's - interesting."

"He doesn't believe you," Snart observes, hovering over Barry's shoulder.

"No shit," Iris says.

"Are you talking with the - yes, yes, of course you are," Barry says, shaking his head. "You're talking to the 'ghost'."

"Ouch," Snart says. "I could hear the quotation marks on that one. Be careful of any invitations to STAR Labs; they're not very good with respecting autonomy there."

Iris resists the urge to flip Snart off. Or the clearly disbelieving Barry, who obviously thinks she hasn't noticed him furiously whispering on the phone with Caitlin about metas capable of causing hallucinations or psychosis - she is not being affected by the Rainbow Raider, for fuck's sake. His powers don't even work that way!

"We could play the 'put a number behind your back' game," Snart offers, clearly vastly amused by this. She'd hold it against him if he wasn't so damn attractive when he was being a condescending asshole.

...does Iris have a type? Even Eddie ended up lying to her face and ignoring her ability to make her own decisions by the end of it.

Iris might have a type.

Damnit.

"Never mind, Barry," she says. "Just - forget about it."

She'll just deal with this Snart ghost thing herself.

Of course, Barry doesn't forget about it just like that, but the next meta situation ends up cropping up its ugly head and Barry gets distracted.

Snart is, too, at first, but then he hears about the type of meta powers involved and promptly loses his interest.

That, or else he's just decided it's more fun to drive Iris insane by hovering behind her and commenting on her latest article.

The worst part is, she's having a great time arguing with him about it, too. It'd be one thing he if he was bugging her about stupid nits like grammar or spelling (that's what first drafts and proof-readers are /for, damnit Barry), but it's not.

He's smart and articulate; he asks good, sharp, pointed questions about the content and approach and structure; he seems really interested in the murky underpinnings necessary to make a great article rather than an acceptable one, he actually cares about Central City politics in a way Barry never has...

It takes her about a week of sneaking around Barry to write her articles before she has the horrifying realization that she might be having a bit of an emotional affair with a ghost.

She also makes the mistake of having that realization out loud.

Snart laughs so hard she'd be worried about him dying if he wasn't already dead.

"Shut up," she grumbles, but doesn't really mean it. She never got to see Snart laugh in life.

"No," Snart says, wiping his eyes despite the fact that they're still dry. Some symptom of death, maybe? "No, it's good. I'm glad to know that I would've scored eventually. At least with you, anyway."

Iris hesitates. They'd never discussed...

"Were you?" she asks.

"Was I what?"

"Hitting on both of us?"

"Oh, definitely. In equal measure," Snart agrees. "Barry was first, of course, but then I started reading your body of work -"

He would be attracted to someone because of that. Snart's no intellectual, but damn if the man didn't appreciate narrative.

"- and, well, I had to meet you. And what happens? Turns out your body of work ain't the only fascinating body you've got."

"Oooh, good one. That one was smooth."

"Wasn't it?" Snart says, looking pleased.

Iris hides a laugh. "Tell me, what was it about Barry that attracted you first?"

"Barry? Why?"

"Just wondering." She has a hunch.

Snart frowns at her. "Well, his ass looks great in that suit?"

"I mean, I agree," Iris says. "Ten out of ten. But I'd be willing to put money down that you noticed that after he started punning back at you."

"I do like wordplay," Snart allows.

"Somehow I noticed, what with all the cold jokes."

"A good pun's as good as cold."

"You mean good as gold - oh. Shut up."

"Make me," Snart taunts.

Oh, he's getting comfortable, is he?

Snart might be familiar with Iris West's wit via her work, but he hasn't met the irrepressibly competitive half of her, winner of the West Family (plus Barry) prank competition for twelve unbroken years.

"If you were alive," Iris says sweetly, "I would probably jump you now."

Snart chokes.

"There," she says. "Shut you up, didn't I?"

Snart blinks owlishly at her, then grins. "Good one."

"Oh, no, I was serious," she says, making him stare at her. "Sorry, am I moving too fast for you?"

Snart is laughing again.

"Don't worry," he says. "I'm sure I can put a freeze on things."

"I know you're fond of cold puns, but there is some benefit to letting things get more heated."

"Really? That's news to me."

Now Iris is laughing, too. "Well, lucky me," she manages to say with almost a straight face. Almost. "I'm very good at covering the news..."

Nope, that's it, she's lost it.

"Yeah," Snart drawls. "I've noticed how good you are at covering the Flash - very impressive length and breadth of coverage there -"

Iris is howling with laughter, even as the thought of a ghostly Snart watching her and Barry (not that they've had time to do anything this past week) starts a nice warm glow in her belly.

"But what do I know, anyway? I'm not a professional news spooks-man."

Nope, back to pure laughter.

"Snart," Iris manages to get out. "That last joke was positively vile. Juven-vile, even."

"Oh, I like that one!" Snart exclaims. "That one's new."

"Not 'news'?"

"Miss West, I'll have you know that I never recycle a joke," Snart starts, and Iris knows where this is going. "After all, that would be -"

"Old news," they both chorus.

And after that neither of them can talk for laughing for a good long while.

"Uh, Iris?"

"Yeah, Bar?" Iris says, a little distracted. Snart was disappearing more often to go wander through "his" city - his words - and every once in a while he brings back fascinating little tidbits that she fully intends to use to conquer the CCPN newsroom.

Just a blogger, her ass.

"I, uh - I think I need to apologize."

That gets Iris' attention.

She spins her chair away from her home office set up to look at Barry, who's hovering in the doorway and looking very abashed.

"Apologize for what?" she asks, automatically searching her memory for anything that might be - different. Not that she'd notice, of course, if she'd been affected by the timeline change... "What happened, and can we fix it?"

"I love that that's your first question," Barry says wryly. "But no, everything's fine. I was just a judgy dick and I didn't believe you when, uh, there's been some reason to think I should have."

"You should always listen to me," Iris says automatically.

"Even when you demand a fourth helping of dumplings?"

"Especially then. I'll regret it later like a big girl. What didn't you believe me about?"

"The, uh...ghost. Snart's ghost."

Iris straightens up. "You saw him?"

"He pushed me out of the way of an anti-meta beam that the army base around town developed," Barry says.

"He pushed...?"

"I was running," Barry clarifies. "Speed Force at full blast, and suddenly there he was."

Weird, but Iris will take it. "And he managed to push you? While you were going that fast?"

"...he'd stuck his foot out and I was so shocked at seeing him that I tripped over it. But the end result was that I went right under the anti-meta beam, so it was obviously part of his plan! He's sneaky like that."

Iris thinks about Snart as she's gotten to know him these last few weeks. "Yeah, fair," she says. "He really is."

"Is he here right now?"

"No, out and about," Iris says. "Checking up on, quote, 'things'."

"Things? Really?"

"Apparently, I'm to learn to love the definition of 'plausible deniability'," Iris says dryly. "How someone incorporeal and invisible to the vast majority of the population can cause as much trouble as he's always implying he is, I don't even know, but I'm not putting anything past him, dead or not."

"Probably a good idea," Barry says, and he's starting to smile now. "So he's - he's really back? He's here? Not now, but - most of the time?"

"Yeah," Iris says, grinning helplessly. Barry's joy is always so infectious. "Yeah, he's back. Maybe not the way we'd like, but - ghost is better than nothing, right?"

"Yeah, definitely!" Barry looks wistful. "Wish I could talk to him."

"I'll get us an Ouija board," Iris says. "Not that it'll help, him being incorporeal and unable to touch things and all..."

"Even if he wasn't, using Scrabble letters is more effective," Barry objects. "Or fridge magnets."

"Barry Allen, tell me you're not still scared of Ouija board after all these years!"

"It was scary!"

"It was a bunch of guys in sheets sneaking around!"

"Hey, I was ten!"

"Yeah, exactly! It was fifteen years ago!"

"I have trauma," Barry sniffs, but he's still grinning. "Lots of trauma." His grin widens. "Maybe I need some TLC to help me get over it."

Iris snorts. Oh, Barry. "Yeah, speaking of which," she says, suddenly grinning herself. "What do you say to asking Snart if he'd like to spectate a bit of that TLC?"

Barry opens his mouth.

Then his brain finishes processing what she said and he freezes.

Fastest man alive, yeah. Including in the ability for his blood to rush south, Iris bets.

"Just think about it," she says. "You can't see him, but you know he's watching. Watching me take you apart, piece by piece - making comments and suggestions that only I can hear - and you can only imagine..."

Judging by the look on Barry's face, he approves of that plan. A lot.

(Once he gets over the need to make puns about a spectating specter, Snart approves, too.)

Iris spends a surprising amount of her time writing letters now.

Well, emails, not letters, but the concept is the same. Snart has a lot of things he wants to say to a lot of people, and apparently most people aren't the perfect level of time radiation (indirect exposure from being with Barry) that she is, and that means email.

Most of the emails are to Rory and Lisa Snart, so heavily couched in in-jokes that it's practically some sort of code that they're practically unreadable - Rory made a deliberate detour to visit after the third one, his eyes alight with desperate hope that Iris manages to satisfy by translating Snart directly, complete with attempts to replicate his ridiculous body language, while Lisa sticks to increasingly angry emails about what the fuck "Lenny" was thinking when he went on the Legends trip to begin with - but some of them are to...other people. About other things.

"Snart, tell me true," Iris says. "You'd let me know if I was running a crime empire for you, right?"

"Tell SS that he'll thank me for the extra room down the line," Snart instructs instead of answering. "Say, hmm, say RD and LS would be too explosive."

"Snart..."

"Oh, and tell HR that his idea is stupid, but if he wants to spend a year in Iron Heights, he's welcome to go it solo."

"Snart!"

"You really would be happier with the plausible deniability."

"I would not. I'm a journalist, I like knowing things. Tell me!"

"It's not a crime empire," Snart says soothingly. "Just a small - side project."

"Side project. Snart, in case you've forgotten, you're dead."

"Dead but not forgotten," Snart says cheerfully, but she can see the wistfulness in his eyes. "A man's got to have a legacy, even if I can't personally participate in it."

"Do I even want to know?"

"Probably not," Snart admits. "Say, if you had to pick a supervillain name, what would it be?"

"I don't think I trust that segue."

"That's because you're smart. Well?"

Iris rolls her eyes. "It depends on what type of supervillain I am, obviously. Do I have a power set? A theme weapon?"

"Think more 'organizer of other supervillains'," Snart says.

"That's what I was worried about," Iris mutters. Snart might've had a point regarding being happier with plausible deniability. "Why are you setting up supervillains, anyway? Aren't you dating Barry now?"

"Of course," Snart says. "But that's why I'm doing it."

Iris looks at him.

Snart looks - unusually serious, actually. "One thing I know about criminals, and we can all agree that I'm something of an expert there, is that they both love and hate structure. They can't fit into society's structure or else they'll be legal thieves -"

"Legal thieves?"

"Government, police, corporations, lawyers, insurance companies..."

"...fair. Go on."

"Being left out of - or not feeling like you fit in to - society is what drives people to crime, most of the time," Snart explains. "Whether they know it or not. But that means most of 'em want to fit in somewhere. That's why you've got the Families, gangs, criminal-focused bars -"

"You worked solo."

"I worked with Mick," Snart corrects. "We made our own society, the two of us."

"Codependent," Iris coughs into her palm.

Snart rolls his eyes at her. "We convinced Mick not to move in with you, didn't we?"

"Only because you're incorporeal."

"Well, that doesn't seem like to change, does it? And if it does, you'd be better off having him around anyway; he's a great chef."

"We are not - hm. Great chef?"

"Amazing."

"I'll...keep that in mind. Anyway, we're getting off track. What's all this - fascinating pseudo-psychological analysis as it is - have to do with starting a supervillain squad?"

"It's got to do with it because having a squad means people will want to join it," Snart says. "Before they do anything really big. And if you're running the squad, then..."

"Then I can either work with it to make it less dangerous, or, even if I just refuse to be involved, I have advance notice of it," Iris says, getting it. "Giving Barry a head start."

"Exactly," Snart says.

"Snart, has anyone told you that you're dangerously good at gift-giving?"

Snart grins at her. "You haven't even put together the fact that being a player in the Central City underworld, even indirectly, will get you access to all the stories your black little heart desires - and all the excitement you could possibly want in chasing them."

Not to mention the respect that is in somewhat short supply at CCPN...

Damn, but Snart is good at gifts.

"Okay, fine, fine," Iris says. "I'm in already. What's the next step?"

"The next step, I think, is for you to meet one of Central City's finest fences. She's trying to start up her own metahuman-related organization - mostly smuggling, not theft, because we all fall back on what we're best at when we try something new - so we either get on her good side and become allies or we don't and become rivals, but either way it'll be good to know what we are on the ground floor."

Iris feels a frisson of excitement run up her spine. What can she say, she loves the adrenaline of going after something dangerous.

"What's her name?" Iris asks.

Snart smirks and runs an invisible hand over Iris' hair, fondness in every line of him. She wishes she could feel it the way Barry sometimes can when he's using the Speed Force.

"Amunet," he says. "Her name is Amunet. The Blacksmith."

"Oh, damn," Iris says. "That's a good one."

"- so now we're going after fairy tale monsters, I guess?" Rory concludes his story with a sigh.

"At least you got to go to Aruba for a bit?" Snart says sympathetically, which Iris repeats.

"Yeah, with a pile of gatecrashers."

He pours himself some more hot cocoa, an action which causes both Iris and Barry to immediately extend their own mugs. Rory makes amazing hot cocoa. With mini-marshmallows, of course - Snart insists, even if he can't drink any (an absolute crime), and honestly, he's right.

"Well, that sounds - incredibly ominous," Barry decides.

"No kidding," Snart says.

Rory shrugs and makes a face in agreement. They've brokered a deal where he takes the jump ship to visit them in Central every other weekend unless there's a crisis, and he's looking a lot better. Though that might be due to the fact that he also visits his shrink while he's visiting them - he and Snart had had a nasty fight about it, proxied by a very unfortunate Iris, but she can't complain that much, given the clearly beneficial results.

"Enough about me," he says. "How's it going on your end? Anything new with the Flash? What about the Rogues?"

"You really ought to come back and take your place in the Rogues," Snart says.

Iris repeats it.

"I will, I will. It's my retirement plan."

"I'm surrounded by supervillains," Barry says with a grin. "Help, help. Do you know that Iris finally has a name?"

"Oh yeah? Mazel tov. What is it?"

"It's not that big a deal -" Iris demurs.

"Yes, it is," Barry and Snart say at the same time.

Barry loops an arm over her shoulder. "Iris West," he announces grandly. "Otherwise known as: The Weaver."

Rory blinks. "The...Weaver? As in - making clothing?"

Iris snorts. "As in making stories, Rory. Clotho, spinner and weaver of fate."

"Huh. I like that," he says, but he's still frowning.

"What's bugging you?" Snart asks, and Iris conveys.

"It's just - the fugitive fairytales we're dealing with? They're attracted to, uh, you know, appropriate-sounding things and places and people and stuff."

"So? It's not like I'm the real Clotho," Iris points out.

"Yeah," Mick says, and his expression has gone grim. "But they don't know that."

Barry's in costume, suddenly, a spark of lightning, and even Snart is turning and Iris suddenly has this feeling in the back of her neck, like there's something behind her - something dark and powerful and grasping and reaching for her -

"You touch her over my dead body," Snart snarls.

The feeling of dread snaps, its power broken, though Iris isn't dumb enough to turn around.

Seriously, though. Is there any time that Snart wouldn't pun?

--

"C'mon, babe," Iris pleads. "We need you to wake up. We need you to come back to us. I'd even settled for one of your dumb puns right now. Come on."

"And soon," Barry adds, his eyes worriedly flicking to the clock. "We're on a time limit here."

"I still can't believe he's back," Ror- Mick says blankly. His fingers are intertwined with Len's, and his knuckles are white from how tightly he's holding him.

It's a bit weird for Iris, adjusting from calling them Snart and Rory to Len and Mick, but after she used her brief spin (thanks, Len) as Clotho, a spider-hybrid capable of manipulating timelines if she immersed herself in them, to win a single chance for them to bring Len back using Mick's timeline, she can't think of them as anything else. That's how Mick thinks of them, and she was eight-knees-deep in his timeline and in his brain for quite a while, guiding Barry through the timeline to change the necessary things to give them a chance to save Len.

(And thanks to that, she knows how much Mick gave when he agreed to let her in, despite all his fears.)

She's not a spider anymore, thank god, but that does mean the effects of her power only lasts until the next sunrise - and with it, their only chance of retrieving Len from where he was trapped by the Oculus in the in-between betwixt life and death.

All he needs to do is consent to another chance at life.

But he won't wake up long enough to do it.

“Not yet he’s not,” Iris says grimly, before turning back to Snart. “C'mon, Sleeping Beauty," she urges. "We need you to wake up. That'd be the best possible gift you could give us. Better than anything else. Please!"

"That's what bugs me, you know," Barry says.

Iris turns to look at him.

"Uh, no offense meant, Iris."

"A spider isn't a bug, Barry," Iris says. "I more meant, what's bugging you?"

"I mean, this all started because of the whole fairy tale curse thing, right? That's what we've all been dealing with - mostly Mick and the Legends, but all of us. Right?"

Barry didn't seem to have any trouble making the Rory-Mick switch, Iris notes. Guess it's just her.

"Yeah?" Mick asks. "What about it?"

"I mean, he's asleep-like-death. That's pretty classic fairytale stuff right there - Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, that sort of thing - but we've tried the traditional kiss-to-wake-up thing, and it didn't work!"

They'd all tried: Barry, Iris, even - at their urging and despite protests of a purely platonic sort of love being involved - Mick.

But Len still slept.

"I mean, we even tried giving him a Heimlich in case he had, you know, an apple piece in his throat, but - nothing! I just don't know what fairytale we're in, if it isn't one of those."

"I think we are," Mick says. "In one of those, I mean."

Iris and Barry blink at him.

"After you made me kiss 'im," Mick explains. "Gave me an idea."

"Oh? What idea -"

The door - which Iris is 90% sure she locked - swings open.

"Lemme at the contrary jerk," the woman standing there, resplendent in black leather and gold chain, says, her hands on her hips.

"Hey, Lisa," Mick says.

Lisa? As in, Lisa from Gotham?

"Snar- I mean Len's sister?" Barry asks. "You think she can do it?"

Hah! Barry has issues with it, too!

...not the focus right now.

"Well, you said platonic love might count," Mick points out. "And there ain't nobody Snart loves more than his baby sister. So I texted her to come over, stat."

"You're a pretty close second and you know it, Mickey," Lisa says. "But I come first."

She sounds so confident.

Iris can't help but hope that it really will work. She and Barry, they never really got a chance to see if love would bloom between them and Len; that’s why they thought it might work better with Mick, who Len has known since forever. But now that Iris thinks about it, from all the stories she’s heard about Lisa, from all the emails she's written, from the way Len’s face softened with amusement when he heard her (often profanity-laced) responses…

This might be it.

"Please let this work," she whispers as Lisa strides forward and kisses her brother on the cheek just as the moon sets, only an hour or so before the dawn.

For a long moment, there is nothing, and Iris' heart begins to break.

And then Len stirs.

Shivers.

Opens his eyes.

Iris makes a wordless shriek that she is totally going to deny later and throws herself forward to wrap her arms around him.

She feels Barry’s arms go over her shoulders as he also jumps forward to embrace them both.

“Saps,” Lisa sniffs, but she sounds approving.

Len coughs a little, clearing his throat. “If you disapprove of my saps,” he says, his voice hoarse with sleep, “you should make like a tree and leaf.”

Iris groans and bonks her head against Len’s shoulders. “Why do I like you,” she says despairingly.

Barry’s sniggering. She can hear it. He has such bad taste.

(And clearly, given that she’s – hopefully – dating them both, so does she.)

“Enough with the plant puns,” Mick says. “No offense, Lisa –”

“We don’t talk about the plant thing when I’m in Central,” she says sternly.

Iris – doesn’t want to know.

Okay, she really wants to know, but she’s not going to ask.

She’ll ask Len about it later.

“Whatever. Anyway,” Mick says. “Weaver, don’t you need to do whatever it is you need to do?”

“Right,” Iris says. “Len, do you want to stay with us? Here? Alive?”

Len blinks at her. “This some sort of trick question?”

Barry pinches him, causing him to yelp. “Just answer it.”

“Yes,” Len says. “Obviously yes.”

Iris exhales with relief as the last bits of the fairytale power flows of her and Len suddenly – solidifies, is the best was to describe it. He wasn’t not-solid before, but now he’s even more solid, more real, more /here than he was a second ago.

Len blinks, then looks down at himself.

“I’m back,” he says blankly. “It worked.”

“Yeah,” Iris says. “It worked.”

And then she kisses him.

And makes room for Barry to kiss him, too.

The perfect fairytale ending.

“You know, I think I will make like a tree,” Lisa says. “Mick, call me when they’ve stopped; I’m getting something to drink.”

“Are you kidding?” Mick says. “You think I want to be here to see this? I’m coming with you.”

Iris rolls her eyes.

Okay, maybe not a perfect fairytale…

“So let me get this straight,” Joe says. He’s got that furrow between his brows that means that a storm is coming – usually one of his temper tantrums. Iris isn’t afraid: Cecile will kick his ass if he starts yelling or tries to pull his usual silent treatment stunt. “You two have finally fallen in love after all these years.”

“That’s right,” Iris says.

“And you even got a big, beautiful wedding –”

“Interrupted by Nazis,” Barry helpfully interjects.

“Interrupted by Queens,” Iris mutters. Yes, she’s still bitter.

“And, sure, you had to deal with some trouble at first –”

“That time when we thought Barry was gone for good but actually he just disappeared for six months and lost his mind a little?”

Joe is making a face like he doesn’t appreciate Iris’ interruptions.

Well, tough. Iris isn’t exactly appreciating his attempts to rewrite history so it’s all sunshine and roses.

“Either way,” he says through gritted teeth. “You two are still happily married, right?”

“Yes,” Iris says. “We are.”

“Then why the fuck are you dating Snart?!” he explodes.

“Watch your language around Jenna,” Cecile snaps.

“Sorry,” Joe says. “But seriously – Iris, why would you do this to Barry?”

“Uh, no,” Barry says. “I’m also dating Snart here.”

“Wait, you’re the one cheating on Iris?” Joe asks, looking surprised.

Iris is a little bit offended that he was totally willing to believe that she would cheat on Barry but not vise-versa. What the hell, Dad?

“No,” Barry says. “No, we’re both dating him.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Joe says. “And anyway, it doesn’t answer the question of why. Or even when!”

“There was a whole ghost thing,” Iris says breezily. “You missed it, but hey! I hear babies are super distracting, so no worries. Either way, it’s a done deal, so you’re going to shut up and accept it without trying to psychoanalyze our relationship. We like him, we’re dating him, we’re hopefully going to move into falling in love with him more than we already are, and there’s no rational reason we can give you that will convince you it’s a good thing – so we won’t.”

"You know what, fine," Joe snaps. "Forget Snart. Why is Rory living with you?"

"He's a really great chef?" Iris offers helplessly even as Barry shrugs. "And anyway, the guy we're both dating wants him to, so..."

Joe crosses his arms with a scowl. “You still can’t both be dating him.”

“Joe,” Cecile says gently. “Tell me, have you ever heard of polyamory…?”

[inkofamethyst]

January 10, 2021

I struggle with enthusiasm levels.  I’m enthusiastic about a lot of things.  I really love exclamation points!  But this makes me come off really strongly, I feel like.  I often want to express how much I appreciate a person or thing but the act of doing so to my full capability often feels awkward to me.  Why is that?  ...  Well, I think I might be afraid of people thinking I’m weird, I think.  Or that I’m trying to say something that I’m not.  Or that I’m being artificial.  So a lot of times, I think, I try to tone myself down?  I don’t know if that’s a common thing.

Speaking of enthusiasm, OHOHO MY FRIENDS

I have just watched Techno’s L’Manberg Destruction Stream and WOW what a beautiful battle.  Techno fighting off 20 dudes for 20 minutes?  Epic.  Techno giving his only Totem of Undying to Phil?  Epiccccc.  Dream dropping TNT from the sky while Withers run wild?  EPIC.

Alright so I saw that Ghostbur joined, and obviously he’s got the storyline I’m most interested in, but Techno never joined the vc with Wilbur so I’ve gotta watch Tommy’s vod.  Gotta say, I do love me some Villainous Dream.  I think it’s interesting how he and Tommy butt heads and also how nonchalant Dream is about being the villain.  Also I definitely think Tommy is really just, like, not understanding that Techno was being completely upfront with him and that he was kidding himself into believing that Techno actually cared about his interests.  That was what opened the door for Techno and Dream, two of the most dangerous characters on the server, to team up.  Anyway I just don’t understand why the discs are so important in the first place.

ANYWAY I’m watching Tommy’s vod and Ghostbur has just asked Tommy to be brought back OH AND WAIT apparently Ghostbur thinks only Dream can bring him back to life.  I suppose this means that if Dream is taken down by Tommy/Tubbo/Quackity (I wouldn’t be surprised if Dream calls in his favor with Techno for help), they could force Dream to bring Wilbur back.  I don’t know exactly how Ghostbur could be brought back or what that would mean for Wilbur’s character, but it should be ~fun~.

I’m also going to watch Wilbur’s POV rn because ~apparently~ this is the first time Ghostbur has ever gone live!!  Before, all of his stuff has been seen through the streams of others.  AWE I love Ghostbur and I’m so excited for what’s gonna happen.  oh snap ghostbur real angry at Philza over Friend.  not me... not me actually feeling bad for ghostbur.  (also I love how they all break character when Tommy gets randomly struck by lightning just after Wilbur asks to be revived lolllll)  OH,, NOT FUNDY BEING PRO L’MANBURG’S DESTRUCTION WHAT?  Anyway, I am happy to learn at least that Philza is canonically Wil’s dad and that, at least, most of what I’ve been pinning isn’t completely blasphemous (at least, not on that front).  Wilbur asking people to kill him has the same energy as that muffin in the asdfmovie that wants to be eaten.  I wonder if Glatt (ghostshlatt’s preferred name) will ask to be brought back too?  Wait okay so maybe it’s Phil that needs to bring Ghostbur back because Phil was the one who killed him?  (I don’t think livetweeting my thoughts about this is the most practical lol)  AHHH IT’S HAPPENING TODAY??  THE TENTH OF JANUARY???  omg philza’s doing it now ahaha.  guess I’ll be watching the vod sometime soon :D

Ah, what an awesome event!  I’m excited to see where the next arc takes us!  Wow I’ve spent, like, four hours cobbling all of this together.  Was it worth it though?  Yes!  

Alright, I’ve got some reading to get done before class tomorrow morning, and I think I might head to Goodwill tomorrow too maybe (or maybe later in the week)?  The parking lot was awfully crowded yesterday, so maybe weekdays will be better.  I’m essentially in search of more wool skirts, some nice pleated trousers, white cotton/linen button-ups, and button-up sweaters.

Oh and also, I watched a video about We Can Be Heroes, the sort-of Sharkboy and Lavagirl sequel, and like,,,, I wasn’t planning to ever talk about this movie again, but the video kinda did put me in my place.  Like, I’m not it’s target audience.  I was absolutely the target audience of Sharkboy and Lavagirl, one of my absolute favorite movies as a kid.  Basically what that meant was that I didn’t question the bad CGI or weird plot.  That movie honestly just felt like a dream, I suppose, which makes sense when you consider what the main theme of the film was.  But yeah, I could watch the Spy Kids and Sharkboy and Lavagirl movies back to back to back to back as a kid because they were made for people my age.  Honestly, I’d totally be interested to see what twenty-year-olds of the time thought of SB&LG, and other DCOMs, while we’re at it.

Wait hold on okay.  Last thing about the DSMP (today) I swear.  So!  I was only introduced to Ranboo a few of Techno’s streams ago and he seemed pretty chill but I didn’t know very much about his character.  Today when I finally went back onto Pinterest, I found out that apparently Ranboo’s character is actually pretty interesting (and dark lol) so I’m watching his stream from four days ago (the destruction of L’Manburg (yes, this makes it the fourth stream today I’ve watched of this single event, but I’m watching different storylines unfold and skipping the parts that are common to multiple streams (that’s lowkey not actually a good thing because, like, it’s just making me more invested in more creators which will take up more of my time))).  Alright so he’s monologuing within this obsidian box.  I honestly don’t know how many people could make monologuing interesting but he’s lowkey doing it well?  Or, at least, it’s entertaining to me and my fish-brain lol.  There’s apparently an “It” that’s important to Ranboo’s character, but I don’t know what “It” is.  He’s also got a thing with ~remembering~ but I don’t have enough background to know what all that’s about?  I suppose I might have to consult the Wiki or I could take the organic route and watch a few of the streams that follow?  If I have the time, if I have the time.  Ranboo canonically mentally ill pog?  His streams are cute though, so I could dig it.

Alright so I went and read the Wiki page on Ranboo and WOW that’s a dark character who I would love to follow.  I’ve got a thing for sad, unfocused characters, I suppose.  (The “It” is his Memory Book, likely taken and used by Dream.)

So!  Streams to watch/skim-- Philza’s Jan 10th stream, some of Ranboo’s streams (apparently he had a run in with Manipulative!Dream, and y’all know I (with shame, yes) get a kick out of that, so I’ll be fishing around for that).  

Today I’m thankful that I had a chill day (I should’ve been doing homework/readings, but alas).  I’m really happy with this DSMP arc (I think this is the end of an arc that started with the previous Destruction of Manburg (but they won’t be rebuilding from this one; the server is in absolute shambles)), as I’m sure you all can tell.

Side note: I’m pretty sure that if I read fanfic (and ohhh boy I can feel myself coming close some days), I think my comfort torture trope would be mind control/manipulation while my comfort romance trope would have something to do with power dynamics still, like jock/nerd (as I mentioned a week or so ago).  And like,,, I don’t know why??  I’m pretty much out of my physical whump phase, I think, but I think I do dig psychological stuff.  It’s weird, isn’t it?  Especially since I went through a similar thing?  Like it’s weird that I enjoy stuff like that still.  It can’t be normal, can it?  People shouldn’t be attracted to things that have caused them pain in the past, right??  So why am I?

[runningwitches]

The Girl Who Cried Fanfic (Peter Parker x Reader)

Summary: When your family is desensitized to your screams, because they usually just meant you were reading a fluffy fanfiction, the hero you’ve been reading about is the one who saves you in a time of actual danger.

 Word Count: 3228 

Requested: Nope 

A/N: Second fic on tumblr ever, first ever Peter Parker. I had this idea when my friend told me that she screamed at the fluff in one of my other fics, but that nobody in her house came to check on her. Jokingly, I called her “the girl who cried fanfic” and well, the rest is history.

You lay in your bed late at night, the only one awake in your small New York apartment. As you scrolled through your Tumblr, you saw a new post from your favorite account, a superhero fan account that loved hearing about the shenanigans the Avengers got into. Clicking on it, you saw this one was about Spider-Man.

Weird, you thought. Spider-Man isn’t really well known outside of Queens. Maybe you knew the owner of this account.

Pushing your thoughts of confusion aside, you began to read the authors note. “Hey guys! Normally I don’t write about this kind of stuff, but there’s this cool new hero in my neighborhood called Spider-Man, and I thought I’d try to write something about him, instead of the usual Avengers stuff.”

You began to think of who it could be. A fellow super-fan in your very neighborhood. Maybe even in attendance of your school. Well, no use worrying about it right now, is there? I’ll see if I can find out more about her later. For now, I’ll visit my my favorite hero.

As you read the story, you noticed a lot of familiarities. I mean, obviously the author is going to write in generic terms, they never know who’s going to end up reading it, but it seemed more familiar than most of the fics you read. The way the school description fit yours, and the neighborhood seemed eerily similar to your own. You really must’ve at least seen this girl around.

But you swept the awkwardness of the familiarity aside and continued to enjoy the story, allowing the odd details to make it more believable for yourself. When it got to a cute part, you couldn’t help but let out a yelp of joy. Spider-Man just took his mask off because he loved you! It was so exciting that even though it was simply a story on your phone, you let out a scream. An. Actual. Scream.

Your parents came running in, thinking you were hurt or that someone had broken in, but that wasn’t the case. When they saw your sheepish smile, and the apologetic look in your eyes, they sighed and closed your door, walking away, annoyed.

Returning to your story you made a mental note to not do that again. You typically could hold your fangirling inside, whisper-screaming into your pillow, or kicking your legs around to hide the fact that you were dying inside, but for some reason the thought of Spider-Man, your local hero, and your personal crush, revealing himself to you made you lose all control of your reasoning, and you screamed anyways.

After finishing the story, you debated messaging the girl behind the account to see if you knew her, or if she had seen Spider-Man in person before. You sure had.

I mean, you didn’t mean to, I don’t think anybody really does when they first meet him. You were just lucky, I suppose.

You were sat on the roof of your building, trying to get away from it all. The stress of school eating at you day in and day out. Yeah, you went to a school for science and technology, Midtown School of Science and Technology to be exact, but you weren’t gifted in these subjects. STEM just wasn’t your thing. You were a history, English, art, and dance kinda girl, and those classes seemed almost completely neglected at this school for geniuses (because for some reason you’re only a genius if you’re smart in a STEM field). Anyways, the stress of the world was coming down around you, school and personal life issues keeping you constantly on edge. As you sat on the edge, hoping for a relaxing escape, you heard a thud behind you.

Turning around you saw a man, nay, a boy in a red and blue spandex suit. An instant blush spread across your face as you realized that you were in the presence of a real life superhero, one of the people you had been longing to meet since you knew he existed. Staying sat where you were, you stared at the hero as he made his way over to you.

“Are you alright miss?” he asked, his voice full of concern, but with a certain familiarity to it.

“Yeah, I’m okay, but why are you here?” you asked, wondering what brought you two together.

“I saw someone sitting at the edge of the building, and I had to make sure you’re okay. I wouldn’t want anything happening to a beautiful girl like you, would I?” he told you, walking on eggshells, still unsure if you were truly alright. The real reason is because he was scared you were going to jump. He’s stopped multiple people from jumping recently, it seemed that a lot of people have been losing hope as of late.

“No, no,” you said, shaking your head, “I’m quite alright. Nothing to worry about here.”

“Okay, but can I ask you to step away from the edge there? It’s a bit concerning to see someone without amazing spider abilities that close to a long drop,” he confessed, with a little wiggle of his fingers when he said ‘amazing’.

“Yeah! Yeah, sorry to worry you Spider-Man, I know you’re busy. Didn’t mean to waste your time,” you told him, mumbling the last part.

“Hey now, you’re not wasting my time here! If anything, I’m wasting your time. You were just trying to enjoy the view, and I’m the one that interrupted you.”

“You? Wasting my time? That’s insane! You’re the hero here, I’m just some girl stressing about high school. You’re out here saving people’s lives everyday.”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m just a kid under this mask too. Schools not everything, don’t work yourself up so much over it. And hey, if you really need help, maybe I could tutor you.” Despite the mask covering his face, you knew he was smirking.

That was two weeks ago, and now your crush on the superhero was even worse than before. I’m just a kid under this mask. The words kept repeating in your mind as you decided to send a message to the author.

“Hey! I’m a huge fan of your writing and I just read your story about Spider-Man! It’s so good! I’m actually from Queens too, so it’s pretty cool to see someone writing something about the guy. I’ve only run into him once, but I thought the way he was portrayed was perfect! I mean, really, spot-on, so great job! Hope to see more about him in the future!” You sent it, not expecting a response. That’s what usually happened when you messaged one of your favorite writers anyways.

You set your phone down, and prepared to fall asleep, but as you were laying there, you got a notification. She had messaged you back!

“hey! omg, im so glad u liked it, i was really proud of that one but i thought nobody would like it bc it’s not an avenger one. but you’ve met him! that’s insane! like so cool. i mean, im from queens but he probably doesn’t know i exist. o well haha”

As you figured out what to respond, you found yourself getting sleepier, so you put down your phone, resolving to respond tomorrow.

The next morning, you woke up late, rushing to get ready, and heading out of the house and off to school within 10 minutes. A new record, you were sure. As you got to chemistry, your first period class, you opened up your school issued laptop, and pulled up Tumblr. You really didn’t know why they hadn’t blocked it yet, but you weren’t complaining. You opened up your messages and started typing out your response.

“Oh boy, sorry I didn’t respond last night, I fell asleep. School stressing me out, you know? Anyways, here I am in my chemistry class, messaging you instead of doing my work. It’s really not a smart idea, but whatever.”

When you sent the message, you weren’t expecting an immediate response, but you got one.

“what?! no way! im in chem right now too! what a coincidence!”

Your first thought was, wow, this girl uses a lot of exclamation points, immediately followed by the thought that if this girl attended your school, which there was a high likelihood, she would be in the same class as you right now. You looked around for people either on their phone or laptop and only found two. Peter Parker, and (Y/F/N). There was no way it was Peter, that kid was an interesting guy, but you were positive that it was a girl on the other side of the screen. Then you looked at (Y/F/N), scrolling through tumblr, with a little box in the corner, probably your conversation. You smiled, and turned back to your computer, noticing that Peter was watching a video of Spider-Man fighting with the Avengers. Stifling a giggle, you went back to the chat box.

“Do you happen to go to Midtown? I know that’s a random question, but I’m sitting in my chemistry class and, well if you go here, then you’re probably sitting in the same room as me lol.”

As soon as you sent it, you saw (Y/F/N) looking around the room. You made eye contact and both smiled, before turning back to your laptops.

“(Y/N)! i didn’t know you were a hero fan! i mean, ik we don’t talk all that much, but that’s super cool! wait up for me after class i have to hear about your meeting with Spider-Man!!”

“Okay, sounds good!”

You both simultaneously closed your laptops, leaving the only one open Peter’s, still watching the video of Spider-Man. As the bell rang, you walked up to (Y/F/N) and started talking.

“Okay, (Y/N)!” She said, her cheery voice matching all of the exclamation points she used in text, “Tell me all about this spider guy, I need it for my writing!” As she said that, you saw Peter look at you guys, but thought nothing of it, he was a fan too, after all.

As you told her the story of how you met Spider-Man, Peter was behind you the whole time. The three of you shared the next class as well, so it wasn’t weird that he was walking in your same direction, it was weird, however, that he was significantly closer in proximity to the two of you, and clearly listening to you conversation. Once again you wrote it off as not being a big deal.

That night you returned home to a new post from your favorite account. Knowing that it was following the storyline you had come up with in English today, instead of reading, had you anticipating what was to come.

The author’s note read “Hey guys! So today I’m writing another Spider-Man one. I know those of you not from Queens (so most of you) probably don’t want to be reading these, so I’ll get back to my regular scheduled programming as soon as possible, but today I met @(your url) and we had some amazing ideas! Anyways, enjoy!”

You told yourself you were only allowed to read it once you had finished your homework, so you finished your homework as fast as you could, finishing by 11pm, another record, and set to reading. By that time, everybody else in your apartment had gone to sleep, so when you began to read and saw another fluffy part coming up, you resolved to not scream.

That didn’t happen.

Spider-Man had just saved you from yourself, and the demons in your head, sealing the deal with a kiss through the mask and people expected you not to scream? Impossible. So when your parents came running into your room again to make sure you were okay, and were once again met with a sheepish smile, they sighed at you and returned to bed.

As the days went on, you and (Y/F/N) became even closer, coming up with more ideas for stories and working together to find clues as to who your masked hero really was. As the days went on, you also noticed Peter getting more antsy, especially around you. The two of you weren’t friends per se, but you had talked before, and typically said the usual hellos and goodbyes, so when ‘hello’s were traded for shady glances, and ‘have a good day’s were swapped with concerned yet prying eyes, you became concerned too.

Two weeks later you went home and saw (Y/F/N)’s newest post. The fluffiest shit you have ever seen. I mean really. You couldn’t help but scream. After the incidents two weeks prior, your parents decided that your screams weren’t important, and laid there in bed, wondering what the fuck they did wrong (I’m just kidding that’s so mean omg).

One week after that you had resolved that Peter was Spider-Man. You hadn’t told (Y/F/N) the theory yet, because you wanted to gather more evidence, and if it really was Peter, he probably wouldn’t appreciate you going around and telling his secret.

You didn’t realize that that day was the second time you were to meet Spider-Man. You were laying in bed, no new fic today, and ready to sleep when you heard a rustling. Not thinking much of it, you laid there, until you heard someone climb in your opened window. You lived on the 5th floor of the building, nobody would really put that much effort into climbing the fire escape just to rob your shitty apartment, would they?

And then you realized that they weren’t there for money. They wanted something else. Something much worse, and so you let out a scream.

Of course, your parents didn’t come. They had been trained that your screams were a product of joy and not fear, so when they heard it, the both returned to sleep, not thinking of what could possibly be going on. Not thinking that someone unwanted was in the room with their daughter.

The man walked up to you and placed his hand over your mouth, preventing you from screaming again. “I’ve been watching you for a while now,” he said, his voice raspy and his breath vile, “wondering what a pretty girl like you was doing living in this part of the neighborhood. I guess I’ll have to find out.” Before you could even react (and you were going to react, you weren’t someone to just sit there and comply), you heard a familiar voice from right inside the window.

“Well, that’s no way to treat a lady, is it?” It was Spider-Man, your imaginary hero coming to save you in real life, again.

“Who the fuck are you?” the guy asked.

“You’re clearly not the brightest,” quipped Spider-Man, before he shot a web at the guy and pulled him towards the window, and away from you. Quickly tying him up in webs, he looked at you, “I’ll be right back, I promise,” and swung out the window. Coming back, his hands now free of the man he asked you “Are you alright, miss?” in the same way he did the first day you met.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Thank you though. If I had gone with my plan, it would have been a lot messier honestly. He probably would have ended up being shoved out the window,” you admitted with a laugh, still shaken from the events.

“Well hey, it still would have gotten the job done,” he offered, and you could hear the smile in his voice, even if you couldn’t see it.

“So how’d you know he’d be here?” you asked, curious. “I mean, I screamed and all, but I do that a lot, that’s why my parents didn’t come.”

“Wait? Your parents are here and they didn’t come running when they heard their daughter scream? That’s crazy!”

“I mean, I did say I scream a lot. Please don’t question it, it’s a long and embarrassing story.”

“Well now I’ve gotta question it. Sorry, but I don’t make the rules.”

“Ugh, fine, you win. I read a lot online. Like fluffy fanfiction and-stop judging me, I can see the judgment-”

“You can’t even see my face.”

“I know, but I can still feel the judgement, so stop.” He let out a chuckle. “Anyways, I read a lot of that, and sometimes it just overcomes my emotions and I scream. The first few times my parents came running in. They don’t anymore, obviously. But you never answered my question.”

“What do you read the fics about?” He sounded slightly mocking, as if he knew what the answer was, and if you were right about Peter being the man under the mask, he would know.

You tried to hide the blush on your face as you changed the subject. “You answer mine first, and I’ll think about telling you.”

“Well, I saw that guy coming out of an alley. He seemed really shady, so I followed him back. I’ve seen a few conflicts with him-nothing I’d ever had to get involved with-and so I knew he was trouble. He started climbing the fire escape and I didn’t do anything because I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. For all I knew he lost the key to his house and this was his only way in. Obviously my instincts were correct though, so when I heard a scream, I came in to save you.”

“Well, thank you. It really means a lot to me that you’d do that for me. Thank you.” The heat rushing to your face caused the redness to become even more prominent, and Spider-Man raised his eyebrow at that. Obviously you couldn’t see it, but it was happening.

When he sat on the edge of your bed, you were surprised. Weren’t heroes suppose to save you and run off. This wasn’t one of your dumb fanfictions, this was real life. What he was doing didn’t make any sense. You shook your head and pulled yourself back to reality, looking up at the spandex clad hero sat in front of you.

“How’re you doing? I know the last time we met, you were stressing out over school. Ever find a tutor?” he asked. He was serious, but ended it with a joke, trying to make sure you were comfortable.

“Oh, I’m doing okay, school is still my number one priority-”

“As it should be.”

“But I’m not overworking myself. I’ve been taking breaks, helping my friend brainstorm and writing some stuff instead of just wallowing in my own self pity.”

“That’s good,” he said, smiling at you from beneath the mask.

“You’re probably busy, you should head out.”

“Not much crime today,” he said with a shrug.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t have stuff to do. You said it yourself, there’s just a kid under that mask. Go home, rest, talk with your family, finish your homework, sleep. There’s things to busy yourself with other than crime. You’re still just a kid, go live your life.”

He stood up and pulled you into a hug. “Thank you, (Y/N). For everything.”

As he let go and climbed out the window, swinging away, you didn’t even notice that he had never asked for your name.

[ticknart]

One Narrow Bed

Marco Diaz had just finished buttoning his striped pajama shirt when his bed squeaked. Darned laser puppies. He'd spent a half hour chasing them and throwing them out of his room. He was sure that he got them all. Although, he admitted to himself, one could have sneaked back in while he was tossing out another.

He psyched himself up, ready to be hit by several lasers. He pushed off and spun on his toe. He lunged forward, wanting to snatch the puppy before it could hide under the bed and he'd have to fight for his room again. He gasped in surprise. As his momentum continued moving him forward, his feet tangled together and he fell, smack, right on his face. There was no puppy on the bed. Instead he saw--

"Janna?" he said into the floor.

It couldn't be her. Could it? No, it couldn't. It must be a misfire from one of Star's spells. Some nutty illusion spell that manifested in his room instead of hers. Or a psychic projections, maybe. With Star, who knew, her aim wasn't always great. Once she'd accidentally hit him with her bumble bee battalion burst. He'd been standing, sort of, in between Star and a horde of monsters when she unleashed the bee army. Those little bugs chased him for what seemed like hours and never once moved to chase a monster. That had been one exciting afternoon and a bit of a painful night.

He heard the window slam shut. He sighed then rolled over onto his back. Above him were two big brown eyes and one gigantic, toothy smile. He forced a grin, but was pretty sure it was more of a grimace.

"Hey, Marco," said Janna Orodonia, an old friend of his from way back and now a current friend of his housemate and best friend, Star Butterfly.

"Hi, Janna."

Marco's brain went into overdrive: What was she doing in his house? Why his room? His room! Why not Star's room? His shirt was on, but had he remembered his pants? He hoped his pants were on. Was her being in his room at night appropriate? Did Star invite Janna over? Or did Janna invite Janna over? Was this another one of those times where Janna wanted to make him frustrated and flustered? He wouldn't give her that satisfaction? Why was his face warm and flush? Hadn't Janna been in his room lots of times? Yes, but that was during the day. With his door wide open. To keep his parents happy. His parents! What would they do if they found her in here? Would they ever trust him again? Would they send Star away? If Star was gone, would the monsters stop attacking? Would she take the puppies with her or would he be stuck caring for them forever? With that sort of responsibility, could he still go to college? Was fast food his only option if he didn't go to college? Could Jackie love a man who had no prospects, no future? Could anyone? Could he? Would he be a drain on society?! What would his life become?!

"Stop it," said Janna, offering her hand.

"Stop what?" he asked.

"Worrying," she said, reaching lower.

He took her hand and she helped him up.

"I am not worrying."

"Dude, you were born worrying."

"Was not."

She cocked her head and simply looked at him.

After a moment, he looked away from her and said, "I was...  over thinking. Not worrying."

She pulled the chair out from his desk and sat down."How far'd you get?" she asked.

"Huh?" he said, sitting on his bed across from her.

"Remember when we were little? You'd start by worrying about the class hamster. 'Does it really like the food pellets and if it doesn't how can we know?' Or something like that. Then you'd go step it up and eventually work your way to your future and worry about the day gerbils got smart and start their plan for world domination. How far'd you get?" she asked again.

Did he remember? Of course he remembered. Janna and Marco had been best friends from the moment they met -- when Janna decided that he was going to be her friend -- until middle school. She was someone who pulled him out of his shell and forced him into new experiences. (A lot like Star did now, without the magic or monsters or psychotic princess academies.) She also helped him work through his anxieties, mostly by telling him he was crazy and that the "future'll be what the future'll be." He didn't fully understand what she got from him until he was much older and they'd grown apart: stability and unconditional love.

"I was homeless," he said, smiling weakly, "dragging around the laser dogs, who scared away anyone who tried to help us. Slowly dying from exposure. Expecting to be the dogs' next, and maybe their final, meal."

"Wow," said Janna, cringing, "you went from zero to caa-razy really fast." She waited for a bit before asking, "What started it?"

"Why are you here?!" asked Marco, too loudly to be polite. "I mean, it's after" -- he looked at the clock next to the head of his bed -- "nine o'clock. Shouldn't you be in your house, in your bedroom, getting ready to sleep?"

"Yeah, I gue--"

"But here you are, in my room, wearing that too small jacket and that beany I gave you, as a gift, when my parents took us to the snow. Forever ago."

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sat down. "I'm sorry. I just...  I don't understand. Why are you here, Janna?"

When she didn't answer, he opened his eyes. She wasn't smiling. There was no mischievous glint to her eyes. She looked tired and... sad? He hadn't seen her like this for a long time. She'd been happy-go-lucky, trickster Janna for so long. She let everything roll off her back. She didn't care what other's thought. She was Janna!, with and exclamation mark, and no one could do anything about it. He'd forgotten that she is as human as he is.

She looked at him, sighed, and said, "I need a place to crash, Marco. For tonight."

"Sure," said Marco, without a single contrary thought. "Let's just get you across the hall into Star's room." He knew his parents would be cool with Janna sleeping over with Star even if they weren't asked.

"Thanks, but, nah, I'd rather sleep here."

He didn't think his parents would be cool about that. And he didn't know if he was cool with it either. Just because all those nighttime shows that happened to take place at a highschool showed that this kind of a moment was every boy’s dream at all times, didn't mean it was true. Not that Marco would ever... No. NO! He wasn't ready. He knew he wasn't ready. But if she wanted to go really slo-- NO! His imagination was a dangerous thing and he didn't need it to interfere with his thoughts. Especially with his friend in the room. Especially in his pajama pants. This wasn't a good idea.

"I don't think that's a good idea?" he asked, feeling like an idiot for talking that way. He quickly corrected himself, "It's not a good idea." Firm and to the point.

"Why?"

"W-well," he stuttered, "it's because, uh, you’re a boy and I'm a gi--" What did he just say? "No, it's because I'm a gir--" GAH! "Darn-it, you know what I'm trying to say."

"Yeah, but we used to do it all the time."

This was true. Between the ages of six and eleven, Janna practically lived at his house. Almost every afternoon she'd walk home with him and they'd play and do homework until she left, sometimes that was after dinner, sometimes not. On weekends She'd spend the night and they'd build blanket forts to sleep in, or drag out his parents' old sleeping bags to the back yard, or simply stay up late in his room reading stories to each other. One of his happiest memories was a whole Saturday where they barely said anything. They just played with his Legos. It's not often you could be so quiet with someone and feel so close to them. So happy with them. When he got older, Marco was surprised that his parents let her spend so much time with him. At the time, though, he didn't care. His best friend in the world practically lived with him. It was almost like having a really cool sister. But she wasn't his sister.

"We were little kids!"

"So?"

"So!" Marco said, throwing his arms into the air.

"Yeah. So?"

"So, I think the only difference between us that I recognized was that you weren't me."

She smirked and said, "You knew some other things were different about us when we traded clothes."

He felt himself blush and her smile grew wider. She was a slick one. Always an answer that made him feel awkward so he couldn't think clearly.

"Maybe," he said, choosing his next words carefully, "but to me it was more like the difference between you having black hair and me having brown hair. It was just one more thing that made you, you."

"You know better now, though. You have the internet."

"Of course I ha--" The back of his neck flushed and his faced burned hotter. She had no way of knowing anything. He was very safe on his phone. He cleared his browser history. She was just trying to fluster him again. Like always. And if he didn't give in she'd spend who knows how long making him more and more uncomfortable.

He asked, "Will your parents be okay with this?"

"Pffft. They'll be fine. You know my parents."

Except, he didn't know her parents. He wasn't sure he'd ever met them. He could remember visiting Janna's house once when they were nine, maybe ten, and he had been a little scared the whole stay.

Once upon a time, her house had been like every other house in the neighborhood, but at some point someone had given up taking care of it. A low chain-link fence with holes divided the yard from the sidewalk. Wires stuck out into the sidewalk, waiting to catch on someone’s clothes, or scratch an arm or leg. Old, rusting pieces of bikes and lawnmowers and who-knows-what were scattered on the patchy lawn. The driveway had four beat-up cars parked in it. Marco couldn't tell by looking at them which ones ran and which didn't, if any of them ran at all. The paint that caught the most sun had faded and was peeling. The rest was flaking off the house. Everywhere he looked at her house made him uncomfortable and a little sad.

He felt even worse when saw the inside. The entry was a mess of dried mud and random things that had been dragged in from outside. The walls had random holes and were lined with stuff: used paper plates, old shoes that were falling apart, chewed up bones, broken toys, and lots of things Marco couldn't or didn't want to identify. There were paths down the center of halls, but he had an eerie feeling that something could jump out of the stuff at any moment and grab him.

Older and younger kids darted around Janna and Marco as they walked. Too many too close to the same age to all be Janna's brothers and sisters. Cousins, maybe? Marco didn't ask. Since they first arrived at the house, Janna had a stiff smile on her face every time she looked at him. He thought that she must be as uncomfortable with him there as he was at being there. He wanted to tell her it was okay, but it wasn't.

It wasn't where someone like Janna should live and he knew it. She deserved to live in a place like his home, only better. She deserved a tree house and swimming pool. She deserved clean floors and a lawn. She deserved a place that made her feel warm and safe like she made him feel. This was not that place.

Her house, which was surprisingly big, seemed to wind back on itself. Was she giving him a tour, or was it like Ikea and they had to follow a path that would eventually lead them back to the front of the house? At one point they stopped at an open door. There was an old woman sitting in the dark on a lounge chair, watching TV, and drinking a beer. The air coming out of the room smelled stale, wet, and thick. The sounds from the television were of a language he couldn't recognize. Janna went in to speak with the old women. They whispered, so all Marco heard were pieces of sound. Eventually, Janna kissed the old woman on the cheek and walked out the door. She had that same stiff smile as she moved past him.

She stopped in a part of a hall where a space had been marked off by a curtain. The curtain was lit up from behind. Small beams of sunlight came through holes in the curtain and spread over the dirty carpet. Janna took a deep breath and pulled him behind the curtain.

For a moment, Marco was blinded. He blinked away the light and got his first look at something in this house that was Janna's. More that, it was Janna. Clothes were scattered across the carpet, which didn't look as grungy as the rest of the house. The tiny desk had a pile of library books; he immediately recognized several from the Plots to Petrify series, her current literary love. Above the desk were drawings of werewolves and skeletons and clowns all looking horrible. (Skeletons and clowns were always smiling, how could they be so scary?) Her bed sat on a series of drawers, the kind his parents used for crafts. The sea-foam green comforter was rumpled, probably the same as it was since she left for school. For the first time since they approached the house, Marco felt comfortable.

He smiled a genuine smile. Janna smiled, too. This one actually reached her eyes.

Marco sat on her bed and Janna at her desk. They did their homework together and talked about the most recent episodes of Quaking Quakers to the noise of the other kids running around the halls and out in the back yard. But they hardly heard anything except each other.

When the sun started setting and they could hear other voices, older voices, Janna led him out of the house. They walked in a more direct route to the door. She walked him to the nearest bus stop and waited with him. As the bus pulled up, she looked at her feet and quietly thanked him for coming. His instinct was to say that it was his pleasure, but it wouldn’t come out. He climbed on the bus with a simple your welcome and see you at school tomorrow.

The bus ride home was short, but it was also worlds away.

"You want some PJs to wear?" Marco asked, shaking off the memory. "I can get you some PJs. They're in the dresser."

"I'll get 'em," Janna said.

She darted around him and rooted through the drawers. His drawers. His shirts. His pants. His socks. His underwear!

Why did he get so embarrassed over underwear? Most of them were in good condition. No holes where holes weren't supposed to be. Besides, she knew he wore underwear, just like she wore underwear... probably.

Marco shook that thought out of his head.

"I think," said Janna, "I'll wear these shiny shorts and this shirt."

She held the clothes close to her chest, turned around, and bumped the open drawer closed with her hip. She waggled her hand at him and, with her nose up in the air, said, "Now be a gen-teal man and face away from me." Sarcasm dripped from her voice.

Marco turned around.

"Thank you. One wouldn't want one to get any inappropriate ideas, would one?"

"Too late for that," he muttered

"Did you say something?" she asked, still sounding snooty.

"I said," said Marco, raising his voice so she could hear him, "that it's too late for that. For ideas, I mean."

She didn't answer and this unnerved him. She always had a quick response for everyone. Nothing seemed to catch her off-guard. She was either always prepared or just too cool to care. He hadn't experienced this much silence around Janna since they were little kids. And he got her. He flustered her. He did to her what she always does to him.

Why did he feel so bad about it?

"You still there?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, her voice muffled, "I'm here."

"I-- I shou-- I wanted to--," he stuttered.

"Don't worry about it."

"But I didn't want to make you feel--."

"You didn't. It's kind of flattering. I never thought that you..." Her voice drifted off.

"Hey, I'm not a eunuch."

"Yeah, but you’re, you know, Marco."

He sighed, "The 'safe kid.'"

"That's not what I mean. I've known you almost all my life. You're like my brother. Except, better than my actual brothers.”

He smiled.

"You can turn around now."

There she stood, her clothes bunched together in a messy pile at her feet. He watched the beany land and stared at the pile and tried not to think anything.

"Marco?"

He slowly -- too slowly? -- raised his eyes. He saw her legs every day because she wore skirts, but something seemed different. Just a little bit of green shorts showed under the gray shirt, which was too big for her. His stomach and heart lurched a little. His cheeks flushed. He didn't feel ready for any of the thoughts in his head, but they were there. His eyes continued their journey up. That's when he saw which shirt she had picked.

And it was the photo shirt. The one he bought at KarateKon. The one that says "I Kissed a Ninja." The one with the picture of him kissing a ninja. His mind went blank. His cheeks burned.

"Santa Maria," he whispered, "me da la fuerza para sobrevivir esta prueba."

It was times like these that he wished he were more like Star. She could handle anything. Marco could handle many things -- including, but not limited to, monster attacks, flying horse heads, hungry saber-toothed cats, pirates with planks, Tom -- but not everything. One of the big things he couldn't handle was when he confirmed to the rest of the multi-verse just how uncool he really was. When it happened, it hurt. Wounded him deeply. He got embarrassed, flush, and angry with himself and everything he thought everyone was thinking. When it was over and he was alone, he got embarrassed and angry again. This time at himself because he knew -- HE KNEW! -- that it shouldn't matter to him. But it did matter.

At home alone, or with Star, it was so easy to just be Marco Diaz. To watch cheesy movies. To work on his line of Princess Marco dolls. To dance in his room only wearing underwear. It was all fun and made him feel good. And that was all that mattered.

But out in the real world, fun isn't what mattered. Being like everyone else mattered. It mattered so much to be thought to be like everyone else because when you’re like everyone else, everyone else might like you or at least leave you alone.

His stomach hurt. Thoughts like these always made it hurt. Only time and distraction were the cures.

"Did you really kiss a ninja?" Janna asked, pulling the shirt out so she could see the picture better.

"Yeah. Why?"

"That is so cool."

"Really?"

"Totally!" She smiled at him.

He didn't understand how a shirt that had a picture of him kissing a ninja under the words saying that he kissed a ninja could ever be considered cool. And, although he still felt embarrassed, it didn't feel the same. It felt, warmer? Safer? Comfortable? Was that a thing? A comfortable embarrassment?

He smiled back.

"There's an extra pillow under the bed," he said. "I'll go get you a sleeping bag."

Janna's face flushed, "I thought we could..." She looked at the bed.

"Sure," he said, not wanting to argue. "Just grab the pillow and turn off the light, please."

Marco went to his bed and threw back the covers. He scooted as far as he could in a twin bed to make sure she had enough room to be comfortable. As he settled into his bed, the overhead light turned off.

"Hey!" he said, as a pillow hit him in the face.

Janna laughed as she hopped into bed.

He handed her the pillow and pulled the covers over them. She adjusted her body, settling herself into the bed. With both under the covers, on their backs, staring at the ceiling, he reached out and turned out the light on his night stand. A dim light from the neighbor's back yard came though his window. Just enough that he could make out the beams in the ceiling.  

He listened to her breath for a minute then asked, "Janna, why are you here tonight?"

There was an eternity of silence before she said, "Do you remember when I used to sleep over and there were some nights when I couldn't fall asleep and you'd invite me to sleep next to you?"

He remembered. There were nights where her breathing was ragged. Sometimes there was even quiet sobbing. On those nights he would get out of bed, take her hand, and bring him back to bed with him, without saying a word. He'd listen to her uneven breath grow smoother, until it became regular and she was asleep. The whole time, he held her hand.

"Yeah," he said.

"I..." her voice cracked. She cleared her throat.

The beams in the ceiling become blurry as Marco’s eyes grew watery. He slid his hand under the covers and took hers in his.

[ber-bonfamille-lyons]

The Madness of Taka Lyons

Summary: After his meeting with Milla, Taka takes matters into his own hands. He finds Berlioz Bonfamille all alone...

TW: assault, violence, thoughts of death 

@takalyons

Further Reading: The Investigation Begins – Copper and Taka Liars and Loopholes – Taka and Rodmilla A Helpful Interrogation – Copper and Nala Truth is in the Eye of the Beholder – Simba and Taka Rock Bottom - Sweet and Nala Your Obedient Servant – Taka and Rodmilla The Night Must End- Simba, Berlioz, and Nala 

[Dated July 17]

TAKA:

Taka was furious, he was betrayed, he was... he was at the end of his rope. Milla had severed all ties with him even though they were tied together in this. His company, his empire was going to be ripped from him. The Goldbergs wouldn’t speak to him, he was alone. And a leader, a pack animal alone, was not a good thing. It made them unpredictable and aggressive. And Taka was both of those things. So unhinged and paranoid that he had evacuated his home and taken up residence at his bachelor pad. It was the only way to remain safe, to plot his revenge. Taka Lyons would not go down without a fight.

Which is exactly how he had wound up lurking outside of the building housing PrideU’s radio station. If he was going to go down he would do so on his terms. There were demands he wanted met and they would be. Because he would have collateral that would ensure that. After all, his insipid little nephew would be crushed if his darling boyfriend got hurt. The repercussions didn’t bother him. He’d deal with them when that time came. Now he just wanted to hit the enemy where it would hurt.

The moment the door opened, Taka made his move. He had the plan laid out in his head. Lure the boy to his flat for dinner with the pretense that Simba would be there too. Get his phone off him, preferably break it. Then wait. It wouldn’t take Simba long to realize that Berlioz was missing. He adored the boy more than anything and the elder Lyons knew exactly how his nephew was when his nephew was when he was head over heels. He’d fall into the ploy easily and just the way Taka wanted him to.

“Mister Bonfamille,” he called out, taking large strides to catch up to the boy. “Berlioz. I am sure you remember me,” he gave him a wide grin. “Simba sent me to fetch you. Something about a surprise. He seemed bursting at the seams. You know he isn’t the best at keeping secrets. Especially when they concern something for you.”

BERLIOZ:

Berlioz had just sauntered outta the radio station, putting his phone in his pocket, after sending a text to Simba actually. He always did after his shifts were over, typing out a fast message that he was comin’ on home, that he’d be there in just about twenty minutes, and that he loved him. And Simba had texted back with a picture of the food they’d be eating and a real enthusiastic Hurry up!!

Yup, that was the exact number of exclamation points he’d used. 

So naturally, Ber stopped dead, foot scuffing the asphalt, seein’ Taka Lyons of all people in the parking lot. The last time he’d talked to Taka, really talked, was over a year ago when he’d invited Simba and Berlioz over for dinner. It’d been an awkward hour or so, but in the end Ber had survived, happy to be outta there if only because something about Taka gave him that strange uncomfortable feeling in his gut. It was like a mad sixth sense of his. He’d gotten it around Mitte too, got it before getting jumped by the Adamson boy. And with the investigation and the news that Taka was probably responsible for the car crash...

And now, with his hand lingering on his phone and Taka strolling on over, the feeling switched on. It was like his entire body was an alarm. Trouble, this is trouble. This is bad. This is not good.

Still, he smiled politely at Taka, swallowing at that uncomfortable lump in his throat. The chill ran up his spine at what Taka said.

That feeling said loud and clear: Don’t get in the car.

“Oh, really, that’s uh-- wow,” said Ber, rubbing at the back of his neck as he glanced down at his own shoe. “Just like Simba, really.”  His hand was still stuck in his jacket pocket, thumb wiping over the screen of his phone. “Uh, I was-- I was actually gonna meet my family for dinner, can I-- just call ‘em real fast? To let ‘em know?” he said and he got out his phone, finger swiping up the screen.

TAKA:

If he had been working at even a half of what he normally was, Taka would have noticed Berlioz’s discomfort. As it was he didn't care. He knew the boy would come with him. If only because it was a surprise from his boyfriend, someone who loved surprises. Knowing his nephew so well certainly did come in handy, even if getting all that information had been painstaking and annoying.

But as inconvenient as it was for Berlioz to be making phone calls, Taka shook his head with that warm ‘uncle’ smile. “Simba took care of it. He’s already made the phone calls. And it they were anywhere near as long as the one he made to me about setting this up, I’m sure your family knows much more than they wanted to know,” Taka chuckled warmly. He gestured for Ber to follow him, leading him easily to the car that sat waiting. It would take them back to his flat where Taka would keep the boy. What he would do from there, he wasn't sure.

Maybe he’d walk out and actually hire someone to take the boy to an undisclosed location. He could play the hero then. Who would want to put a local hero in prison? No one, that is for sure. Or he could drug him once they were in the car. Just as he had done with Simba. Make him believe that he had been held hostage and that Taka had rescued him. Assure him every passing day that Simba was going to be there. He just had to get better first. Or he could convince him that Simba didn't love him. That one would be the most satisfying if only to see Berlioz break completely. Because that was what love did. It made you weak.

But first he had to get the boy to his flat.

BERLIOZ:

His throat felt so thick he wasn’t sure he could breathe, and that twisting in his gut didn’t go away. Ber flashed back to a couple months ago, to a different him and a different world and a different man staring at him with a crocodile smile. He’d known Roscoe was gonna take him and hurt him the same way that he knew Taka-- Taka wanted something. He didn’t know what but it couldn’t be good, right, or why wouldn’t he just come out and say it?

Or maybe he was just being mad and this was all his anxiety playing tricks on him.

For a second, Ber considered that and let his feet drag a step or two after Taka. Simba just went through really really elaborate measures to surprise him this time, that’s all. Took pics of a different meal. Asked Taka instead of any of his … normal friends, like Silver or Jane or hey, even Peg, who worked at the radio with him and so would’ve made the most sense. Haha, yeah, this was just a really convoluted surprise--on the heel of them figuring out Taka’s massive secret...

Well if that was true then if he called him in a half-panic and told him Sorry I know I’m being crazy but why is your uncle taking me to his flat why are we having a surprise dinner at his flat, Simba would just soothe him and come clean and -- Ber would ruin the surprise but--

Or he could call Lou and ask Lou if Simba had called him, and if Lou said no, then he’d know it was a big lie, and if Lou said yes, then he didn’t ruin the surprise--

Ber’s feet stopped abruptly then, nearly at the car. “Oh uh, shit, y’know, I left somethin’ at the station, actually. I’ll just go run in and grab it,” he said to Taka and before Taka could stop him, he turned and started heading back the way he came, that phone of his still clutched in his hand.

TAKA:

They were nearly to the car, all Taka had to do was open the door and usher Berlioz in. But of course the boy wanted to run. Why did the boy have to make it so difficult? His mind was made up, though, as he quickly opened the car door and pulled out a concealable syringe. He’d have to drug the boy. Which was going to make it hard to get him out of the area without being seen.

Still, he caught up with Berlioz quickly and grabbed hold of his arm just before he could enter the building. “Haven’t you ever seen a horror movie?” he sighed. “Running is never the best option.”

It was all too easy to inject the boy. He may have struggled but the sedative worked fast and soon he was slumped into the older Lyons. Not ideal but it would work. While he supported the young boy’s weight, Taka pulled his phone out and quickly dialed the driver for help. Cover story if anyone saw them? Young Berlioz had passed out, probably from some drug, and Taka was simply taking him home. It wouldn't be too outlandish. Though if he wasn't careful the news could get back to Simba which would not be ideal.

“Make sure no one is in the immediate area.” It was a simple instruction ground out as he situated himself to be able to take all of Berlioz’s weight. “We cannot be seen, do you understand?” When the man nodded, Taka moved towards the door, waiting for his signal. It came shortly after and Taka moved as quickly as he could to the car.

From there it was easy sailing getting to the flat. He was able to get Belioz inside with little difficulty. All he had to do was wait for the boy to wake up. Then the fun would begin.

BER:

Berlioz walked fast, his eyes cast down on his phone as he pulled up Lou’s contact. He’d just hit it when Taka grabbed his arm, yanking him away from the building. He stumbled and his heart flew into his throat. He knew a second before the pinch of the needle that it was already too late. Taka’s hiss in his ear didn’t do anything but unleash the terror his anxiety had festered. His eyes bulged and he opened his mouth. “Hel--”

That was all he got out before his vision blurred to black, the sweat crawled up his spine, and he passed out. - In the dark there was no music. He didn’t dream anything, couldn’t hear anything, could only feel the weight of whatever it was that Taka gave him as it filled up his entire body like cement. . In the months that followed, Berlioz would think about that kind of weight and how it felt akin to sleep and how sleep felt akin to peace. He would miss it, this heaviness, a kind of solidness that was still hollow inside, like he was a stone that could not be broken. It was the waking up that Berlioz would come to fear. - When he did wake up, he woke up slowly, the world spinning around him as his senses trickled in. Sound-- something, someone, movin’ round the room. Air conditioning unit was on. Smell-- some kinda air freshener. Wasn’t familiar. Taste. His mouth was sour. Touch. His head throbbed, there was something tight around him. Sight. Ber’s eyes peeled open and Taka’s apartment shifted into focus. He didn’t know...why he was here. He didn’t… remember. He’d been at the radio station. He was at the radio station and then he… then he… Ber’s body jerked against the ties around him and he looked down. A chain of confused French spilled from his tongue, garbled and slurred.Then he spotted Taka from across the room and it all stopped, and Ber got cold and silent. He stared across the room, his heart pounding in his chest. He was too scared to ask what he was thinking: What are you doing? What are you going to do-- to me?

TAKA:

While Berlioz was unconscious, Taka had time to think. Had time to figure out the rest of everything. From the start the end goal was to lure Simba to him. If he could do that then everything would go back to the way it was. The town would mourn the loss of Mufasa’s son the same way they had mourned Mufasa. It would forget the investigation if only to allow the company to grieve. To allow Taka to grieve for his nephew, his only nephew.

Then he’d be able to rebuild his empire. It was foolproof.

It was Berlioz’s muttering that brought him out of his thoughts and caused a malicious grin to spread over his lips. “Ah, Master Bonfamille, we are awake,” he looked over to him as he took a bite of the dinner that had been prepared. “I had hoped we could dine together but your earlier antics proved rather tiresome and I would not like to risk another attempt at escape.”

He explained this easily, as if they were discussing the weather. Taka was so certain that his plan would go down without a hitch. Had planned accordingly for it. Truthfully, he didn't see how flawed it was. How suspicious he would look. He’d barely been in town a year and there was an investigation. He had not played his part well. Rodmilla was right, he was a risk. But his mind told him differently and it was his mind that had gotten him so far in life.

With a flick of his wrist another man entered the room; a hired muscle Taka had used multiple times in the past. He didn't want to get his hands dirty, so to speak. Not yet at least. Berlioz was nothing in his eyes. Didn't deserve for Taka to spend his time making an example of. No, Taka’s energy would be saved for his troublesome nephew. That was all he was looking forward to. The death of the last Lyons’ heir. It was almost poetic.

“Not too hard, Art. I do not want him to forget everything... yet.” Taka chuckled as the first sounds of flesh striking flesh hit the room. It took only a few more times before he moved to turn the music player up, a french composer playing loud enough to drown out the sounds as Taka returned to his dinner.

BER

Berlioz did not get a chance to respond. To plea. To bargain. He woulda done any of those things, every piece of his brain locked in to getting himself outta this somehow, getting himself out and keeping Simba away-- because he knew that was who Taka really wanted. He wanted to make Simba nothin’ more than a file stashed in the downstairs of the hospital, a mistake and a tragedy, like Mufasa.

Berlioz wasn’t gonna let it happen. He’d convince Taka not to, no matter what it took. Promises of money (Berlioz would give everything he had), promises to disappear. He could take Simba far away. They never had to come back to Swynlake.

But a man entered, dark eyed, tall, like a shadow turned solid. Ber’s heart flew into his mouth. He jerked in the chair again and the ropes dug into the skin of his arms. “No, T-Taka, I-- what are you--”

And then the first punch came, striking him across the cheek, right as Armide seeped through the speakers.

Armide-- his maman had once played her. Berlioz remembered the overture trumpeting through the house. He remembered his mother’s voice, strong and desperate, how it climbed, how it soared. He remembered Nounou chopping onions in the kitchen and humming--

Another punch, Berlioz crying out. Armide began to sing-- Enfin, il est en ma puissance--!  

At last, he is under my power. The man’s knuckles bludgeoned his other cheek. Berlioz saw his Maman’s blue eyes.

Ce fatal ennemi, ce superbe vainqueur. Another sharp blow, Ber’s vision red. This mortal enemy, this proud conqueror.  His Maman fixed Berlioz’s bowtie before they settled in the operahouse. All the lights were low. Behave, Berlioz, she tutted at him. Try not to squirm.

The strings scraped the air, Armide’s voice pierced like a dagger. Ber’s cries climbed but they could not overwhelm all that music. It buried him underneath it.

TAKA:

The music wafted through the room, Berlioz’s cries and Art’s carefully aimed hits muffled beneath it. It sent a thrill through Taka because he knew it was happening, watching it happen as he ate his pate. To an outsider this would seem barbaric, cruel, but to Taka this was tame. He had watched murders happen while having normal conversation. Seeing a boy being beaten was nothing. Especially considering he knew how it would affect his nephew.

Oh he honestly could not wait to see the look on Simba’s face when he saw Berlioz bloody and broken. To know that it was entirely his fault. If he had just left the boy alone he would have spared him. Of course in that instance Taka would have just taken one of his friends. The fairy girl or the one with the wings. Maybe even Nala. He knew he’d have fun with her. Breaking her spirit would have been much more than this. It was a missed opportunity but he could deal with it.

When Berlioz woke next, Taka was seated on the couch with a magazine, reading it idly. Really his attention was on the boy, waiting for him to wake up. It shouldn't take long. Art hadn't gone too hard on the boy, he’d seen the man do much worse in less time. “Welcome back, Mister Bonfamille. I will assume that the current music is to your liking. I remember seeing your mother perform this. A shame they did not record her,” he stated conversationally. Adelaide did have such a lovely voice.

“Now I assume you’ve figured out what the plan is,” he set his magazine in his lap, eyes trained on Berlioz. “And if you have, you realize there is very little chance of either of you coming out of this, well, alive. That being said, the more you struggle or try to refuse the worst it will be for you and Simba in the end. Understood?”

BERLIOZ: “And if you have, you realize there is very little chance of either of you coming out of this, well, alive. That being said, the more you struggle or try to refuse the worst it will be for you and Simba in the end.”

No.

His heart pounded with the word. No, no, no. There had to be a way out of this, some way to slip through the cracks, a tiny revolt inside him that would be just strong and clever enough to win. He blinked at Taka, trying to clear his vision, and knew that he and Taka weren’t so different anyway. Besides the whole murdering impulses thing.

But Taka wanted a way outta the mess he’d gotten himself in. Berlioz understood that. He understood that it wasn’t really vengeance that Taka was after, it was impunity. A fresh, clean start.

Killing people wasn’t clean.

So now was his chance. “You don’t have to do this,” he croaked out. Blood trickled down his lip, and he sucked it back into his mouth for a second, the taste sharp. He breathed out roughly. “Y-you don’t. I can make Simba leave. We’ll disappear, I promise, he’ll--he’ll listen to me. We’ll never come back.” His eyes filled with fresh tears at the thought and he had no idea how he was gonna actually convince Simba, but he would. He had to.

TAKA:

Disappearing wasn’t enough. He should have known that before when he had told Simba to leave. He should have known that his nephew would have found a way to stay close in Swynlake. It was what had led to all of this. If Taka had just tied up his loose ends this wouldn't be happening. But he learned from his mistakes and this time it would all be tied up neatly and he would continue living the way he had.

“As much as you may love Simba, there is not a force on this Earth that will make him do anything he doesn't want to do,” he chuckled, moving to stand. How cute this young love was. Thinking that they would do anything for each other. Simba would not leave. Not when Berlioz had been kidnapped and threatened. His need for justice would be too strong. Taka didn't trust Berlioz to deliver on his promise. Taka didn't trust anyone, really. Not anymore.

Sighing deeply, Taka rolled the sleeves of his shirt up and moved closer to Berlioz. “There’s only one way to disappear and make sure none of this ever comes to light.” He offered a feral grin as he moved that much closer. “And that’s both of you dead. I’m sorry. I’ll be sure you and your family get a very nice memorial. Not as nice as Mufasa’s but close.”

BER: So that was it then-- dead. Ber’s insides twisted, but not in terror. It was in anger, which was the kinda thing Berlioz barely ever felt, so when he did, it was cold and ruthless. It flooded him like liquid iron, hardening down into armor. Why should Berlioz do anything this man said if dead was the way it ended? If no matter what, no matter how amiable Ber makes himself, it’d lead to the same place? He could go fast, sure, or he could go slow and painful-- didn’t matter which. Dead was dead. The fear on his bloodied face evaporated. He looked at Taka with a hard line over his brow. “Then why the fuck should I help you? You’re gonna kill us anyway-- you’re gonna kill us and get caught, ‘cause everyone’s gonna know it’s you. Specially after all this.” He stared, hard, right into Taka’s eyes, no longer scared. “You’re the-- the one who should run. While you can. Take everythin’ and disappear. I could even help you.” And Ber would. He’d keep the secret, he’d lie, even to Simba, if it meant Taka let them walk free.

TAKA:

That was... That was anger on his brow and wasn't that just a beautiful thing. It showed Taka that this boy did have a bit of a spine. It just took some time to find it. Time was all that Taka had. He’d have to wait for Simba to get frantic. To actively be searching. It would only take a few hours. But he just needed to draw it out a bit longer. It’d be easier now that Berlioz wanted to fight.

Taka grinned as he leaned down to Ber, eye level with him. “And what makes you think that I need your help. I know how to disappear. To make myself virtually unable to be found. I have the money and the connections. Why would I need help from a whelp like you?”  He laughed in his face before standing back up again.

“I’ve killed before and not been caught. I’m more than certain I could do it again.” He stated nonchalantly. There were plenty of ways to stage Berlioz and Simba’s death. It would be all too easy. “Accidents happen all the time. Good people go missing. Turn up dead. No reasoning necessary. There’s car accidents, kidnappings for political reasons, ransoms being too high to be met. You are not special. Simba is not special. Your deaths will not be special. Understood?”

BER: Berlioz understood. And that hard shell around him only hardened because that was it then, he was done, it was over. He swallowed, breathing a little harsher, knowing that it was gonna start again-- the beating. He could feel the man behind him, waiting for Taka’s instruction like a cobra curled up or a dog with its teeth bared. Course it’d be Berlioz who would give the signal to strike-- soon as he said no.

And he was gonna say no. No to whatever it was Taka wanted from him. His death seemed like an odd, abstract thing at the moment so he couldn’t hold onto it. The pain made him scared-- not the end. Nothing was scary about the end. Not now.

“‘M not gonna listen to you,” Ber murmured, still staring directly at Taka. “So just go ahead and kill me.”

TAKA:

The boy was a martyr. He thought by dying earlier than planned he’d be doing something important. Unfortunately for him that would do nothing. Taka didn't care for martyrs. Didn't care that they thought they were doing something. Whether they were speeding up the end results or changing what was going to happen. It didn't matter. Berlioz would live until Taka decided it was his time to go.

Again, he leaned towards Berlioz, meeting his gaze. “Do you think I take orders from little boys like you? You will go when I decide and only then. All you can do is make it harder for yourself.”

“Take your time, Arthur.” He patted the man on the shoulder. He took one last look at Berlioz before he went back to his magazine, once again turning up the volume of the music to drown out Berlioz’s cries.

BER:

The music got turned on again, cranked all the way up. And then the man kicked the chair over and Ber went toppling.

He barely felt the impact of the ground though because the man’s foot came soon after, slamming into his gut. Ber cried out. Even when he tried to bite down on his lip, he still cried out. It was his body, not him, his body that tried to curl up like a snail or a turtle. It didn’t work though. He tried to make himself small and compact but the hits smashed into him, one after the other. He choked on his own spit and blood and began to cry on the carpet.

He didn’t know how long he was down there-- a minute, five minutes, longer, shorter. Eventually, after he’d stopped crying (it hurt to cry), Art hauled him up again, making the room spin. Ber felt the urge to vomit surface. He wanted to spit out the blood thick in his mouth.

The music stopped again. “There y’go, boss,” drawled the man. “Now try ‘em.”

Try what? Taka hadn’t even-- told him to do anything yet. “I dunno… what y’want me to do,” he mumbled.

TAKA:

The article on a new up and coming designer had held Taka’s interest as Art worked. The LaBlanc woman he had hired to tailor his suits had quit not long after the investigation started. She had left in a whirlwind of french curses and pretty blonde hair. Trouble, is what she had called him. Technically she was not wrong. But her departure had left him without a designer and he did need one desperately.

But this man the article was about sounded promising. If Taka could employ him he’d be wearing the best of the best. And his name would once again be in good with the media. He did so love the arts. Perhaps his next scheme would involve them. They were so underappreciated these days.

Art turning the music down, though, brought his attention to the other task at hand. Young Berlioz. He looked a proper mess. Art was right. He would more than likely do what Taka wanted now.

“I want you to give Simba a little message, of course. I think he’ll respond better to you.”

To be continued....