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mmmichyyy · 2 years ago

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a.u.gust 2023 - day 4: teacher(s)

1.5k words of shop teacher!mickey & school nurse!ian @gallavichthings 🖤 posted on ao3 too!

Faculty meetings are–in Mickey’s opinion–the bane of his entire existence. Completely unnecessary, redundant, a total bore. Just send it in an email for god’s sake. Especially when the meetings are scheduled at the ungodly hour of eight on Monday mornings, an entire half an hour before he usually arrives at school. Well, twenty-nine minutes, to be exact - if the first class starts at eight-thirty and it takes him a minute to rush from the parking lot to the shop classroom, then he’ll show up right as the bell rings, not a minute more.

Except the new bright-eyed and bushy-tailed principal went to some new-age educational conference over the summer and came back brimming with ideas of bonding and connecting amongst faculty members. How important it was to foster a community and create an open forum and a safe space for communication–her words, not Mickey’s.

As if any of the underpaid teachers give a flying fuck about any of that. None of them would've gone to the first meeting and continued to attend week after week without the bribe of free bagels and the not-so-subtle suggestion of possibly taking away the one good vending machine from the teacher’s lounge. The threat of losing easily accessible corn nuts and milk duds really was the reason why every person working at this underfunded Southside high school had to suffer through thirty minutes of mandatory torture every week.

Mickey worked there for two years and never laid eyes on half the staff at the school or knew anyone’s name until these meetings. He stays in the shop classroom all day, makes sure none of the students drill a hole through their hand or cut themselves on a hacksaw, then goes home. But now, everyone from the basketball coach to the art teacher to even the goddamn janitor had to attend and endure the principal babbling about upcoming school events and ways to improve the school–like time and resources aren’t already limited as it is.

What a colossal waste of time, Mickey grumbles to himself, as he strolls through the main doors of the school after smashing snooze multiple times on his alarm clock and begrudgingly getting his ass out of bed.

At least his on-the-fritz coffee machine decided to work today, or else he may be prone to commit murder without caffeine this early in his system.

But to Mickey’s luck, he doesn’t get two steps into the foyer before slipping on an invisible wet patch on the linoleum floor, crashing forward into what his mind registers for a split-second as a moving wall, which he practically bounces off of, if it's even possible to bounce off a solid surface. The impact causes him to stumble backwards and nearly collide against the glass trophy display case.

“Fu– watch where you’re going!”

“Oh shit, are you okay??”

Mickey rolls his shoulders with a groan. Just as he’s about to unleash hell, he looks up to a pair of worried green eyes staring right at him. Turns out the walls aren’t out to get him - not this time at least - it’s a person. Not just any person, a man who is built like a fucking brick barricade with a firm taut body and fierce red hair that nearly causes Mickey’s jaw to drop in surprise.

“Uh…” Words. What are words? He didn’t hit his head, did he? Why can’t his mind form coherent thoughts?

Unaware of Mickey’s temporary brain daze, the redhead continues to ramble in an apologetic voice, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been blocking the entrance, it’s my first day and I’m a bit lost–”

“It’s fine,” Mickey mumbles, cutting the guy off. Not that he cares if he’s late to the faculty meeting, but he needs to not be here right now. But before he can make a quick exit–

“Do you know where the teacher’s lounge is?”

Huh. A new teacher. With a body like that? Probably another meathead coach, Mickey thinks. To save his ego from continuing to make a fool of himself, Mickey wordlessly nods towards the east hallway, silently signalling the man to follow him. The man does, a bit too enthusiastically, much to Mickey’s chagrin.

Mickey hopes Clifford the Big Red Dog isn’t a talker. The teacher’s lounge is at the end of the hall around the corner and there’s only so much conversation Mickey can handle early in the morning. Especially after sustaining a possible phantom head injury. Especially after almost falling flat on his face in front of someone who looks like that.

But you know what they say about hope - it breeds eternal misery.

“Never thought I’d be back at high school,” the man chuckles. “But I saw the job posting online and thought, what the hell? Might be fun.”

Fun is definitely not the word Mickey would use to describe working at a high school. The very high school he dropped out from, actually. Life has a twisted sense of humour sometimes, but he’s made his peace with his current reality a long time ago.

“Are you a teacher here?” the man presses on.

Mickey grunts as a response. Quickens his pace, but the man doesn’t take the hint.

“What do you teach?”

Only a few steps left...

“Shop class.”

“Oh cool! I’m the new–”

“There you are, Mr. Milkovich.” Ms. Tinsley, the principal, peeks her head out of the door to the teacher’s lounge. Looks behind Mickey and beams. “And Mr. Gallagher! I’m glad you’re here, I was starting to worry you might’ve gotten lost.”

Gallagher? Mickey furrows his brows. The name sounds vaguely familiar, but then again - half the Irish population in Chicago probably has the same last name.

“I was, but then I bumped into Mr. Milkovich here and he led the way.” Gallagher flashes Mickey a grin, and Mickey tries to ignore the somersault flip inside his chest. “Hope I’m not too late.”

Ms. Tinsley shakes her head. “You’re just in time, I was just about to start the meeting.” She turns to Mickey. “Mr. Gallagher here is replacing Mrs. Farris since she’s gone into early retirement. Fell down the stairs and broke her hip, the poor thing. ”

Retirement? Mickey doesn’t remember seeing any of the sports coaches being geriatric enough to retire. Or maybe he’s not paying enough attention to the stupid faculty meetings.

Seeing the confusion on his face, Ms. Tinsley adds, “Mrs. Farris, the school nurse.”

A lightbulb clicks in Mickey’s head. Must’ve been the grouchy old woman with the Q-tip head and a permanent scowl on her face he used to see roaming the halls. He just assumed it was someone’s grandma who had gotten loose from the senior home and got her rocks off yelling at anyone in her way. Did the old bat fall down the stairs or was she pushed? The latter seems more plausible.

“Anyway,” Ms. Tinsley continues, “Mr. Gallagher here will be taking over as the new school nurse. I might get him to teach a couple health classes too, god knows these crazy kids need proper sex health education!” Both she and Gallagher laugh while Mickey cringes.

“I’d be glad to,” Gallagher replies with a smile. Glances at Mickey out of the corner of his eye. “Sex education is very important.”

No. Not today. Nope. Mickey slips past the principal through the door and quickly plops down on his usual seat in the back corner, silently praying the heat he feels under his skin isn’t reflective of how red his cheeks are. What the hell has gotten into him?

And because the universe is fucking with him, the only empty seat left is directly beside him. Mickey stares straight ahead and pointedly avoids Gallagher’s gaze as the principal starts the meeting.

“First thing on the agenda: the school bake sale! Who wants to volunteer?”

“Hey,” Gallagher whispers in a low voice, so only Mickey can hear him above the surrounding chatter, “my first name’s Ian by the way.” Leans in close, hot breath fanning Mickey’s ear, sending a shiver down Mickey’s spine. “Maybe you can show me around sometime?”

Mickey should ignore him. Ian. Pretend to be fascinated by fundraisers or pep rallies or whatever the fuck Ms. Tinsley is droning on about. Definitely not focus on the hopeful tone in his voice. Tell Ian to fuck off and leave him alone, like everyone else in the school has learned to do.

But maybe Mickey woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. Or the right one? Or he’s in an alternate reality? Or maybe someone drugged his coffee this morning?

Or maybe it’s his lucky day?

Because against his better judgement, Mickey angles his head to the side. Pretends to be nonchalant and shrugs in agreement. Tries to bite down his own smile from seeing the way Ian’s face entirely lights up, all eager and warm and full of light.

Maybe eternal misery isn’t the only outcome to spring from hope.

#a day late oops #i might add a lil more to this au we'll see!#gallavich fic #my words #ian x mickey #gallavich #A.U.gust 2023 #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich

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kaijusdream · 1 year ago

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Pigeon Scratch Music Update, Late 2023 Edition!

Wasn't intending on not posting a single update on how things are going for over half a year, but that is just how the turn tables I suppose. A little bit of laziness and procrastination, a little bit of art block, stressing myself to near breaking point on multiple occasions, both in music making and overall life stuff. Summertime this year was pretty damn rough, the lowest my mental health had been for a while, and the next couple of months were just trying to bounce back from that. During that time at least I've been able to have a healthier relationship with music. Both in how I feel about my own work, but also in how I enjoy music by others. I've been able to get back into the swing of things. Now it's just procrastination. Let's start with some of the tracks for Northern Minnesota, Part II.

The most recent song I've been working on is with the working title "Fargo Breakdown." About five minutes long, the general gist for this song is to be a slow build with more guitars and drums added onto itself with every repeat. A really big shoegaze-y, post-rock, wall of sound style crescendo that just abruptly ends and sharply transitions into the next song. Current plans is to have this be the first song on the album, with "Pretty Pink Eyes," what I used to affectionately call "The Long Song" going right after it. Can't call it that anymore because now we got at least two songs that are over ten minutes long.

As I've grown more comfortable working on Ableton, and understanding how to more properly produce on it, I've grown accustomed to a more wall of sound approach for this album. It fits perfectly with the genres of music I am making here. Working on this song, as well as The First Snowfall (more about that track and Pretty Pink Eyes later), has actually been helping me determine the kind of style and tone I want, something I'm more comfortable settling on than I was with what I had for Pretty Pink Eyes and The First Snowfall a year ago. One thing I've realized while working on this album is genuinely how well Post-Rock goes with the concept of suffering with OCD, escapism, gender dysphoria, stuff along those lines. And I'm really excited about the idea of mixing my style in more with that genre. Post-Rock has always been such a massive inspiration for me, so I hope I can do it justice with my own little spin on it.

"Muni" is one I can't exactly remember if I did ever post about it here on Tumblr. I did scroll through my entire blog and checked my tags just to make sure, but I didn't see anything. Started working on this track earlier in the year, I believe after my Vancouver trip. About seven minutes long, this is definitely more of a two-parter of a song, in vain to Pretty Pink Eyes and The First Snowfall being multiple parts in a track. Starts off as a slow somber piece with a ton of reverb and cymbals crashing, and the second half being another breakdown. Plans is to have this track on the latter half on the album, almost right before the final couple of tracks. Honestly not much more to say about this, it's just a damn solid track that really came out of nowhere. I think a good thing about Northern Minnesota, Part II is that it's more focused on longer songs than amount of tracks. Focusing on a couple of songs at a time instead of a bunch of one to two minute long tracks really lets me work on the smaller details of these songs to sound exactly how I want them too. I'd also have to assume it's easier for some listeners to listen to a ten track long album than a twenty-five track long album, even if they are about the same length. I just think it's cool I can actually make longer songs.

"Actually Leaving" Is the only song that has been released in full, albeit as an old demo version on EFMC Vol. 2. It also has been shown in full on my Tumblr page as well, over a year ago. Track used to only be two guitar tracks and a drum track, but I decided for the breakdown bit at the end to double the tracks just to get that wall of sound I desire. Still planning to have this be the last song of the album, since it's such a great end piece. Especially now, since Fargo Breakdown and Actually Leaving both have the same vibe, and I like the idea of all the tracks being similar enough to each other to really feel like a concept album. These tracks have different chord progressions and arrangements, different pacings, but very similar ideas for the base. My main concern with Northern Minnesota, Part II is just making sure nothing is filler, and nothing sounds too samey, while also sounding like it all belongs on the same album. All the main songs I've been working on as of late, the ones that have and will be shown here, are very much based on some sort of build up and breakdown, crescendo type of song. Personally though, I think each breakdown I've done in these songs are different from one another. Each showcase a different style of crescendo. At the end of the day, its okay for some of these songs to sound similar to each other because this is a concept album in heart. And it's especially okay since I'm planning on these songs to be related to each other's concepts. Lyrics, arrangements, even song titles. I want to go crazy with the song titles especially, because I'm a fan of complexity in titles. There is gonna be a lot of part II's in parenthesis and reprisals in brackets, vice versa. Just makes me stupid giddy over the idea of it.

The First Snowfall is one of my absolute favorites on this album. The arpeggio melody in the beginning, the first breakdown with the noisy leads similar to Godspeed You! Black Emperor, the jam session in the middle, and the wall of sound, noise, and reverb at the end as it just gets faster and faster in each second. This song was an absolute blast to make, as well as incredibly difficult and painful. Specifically at the end with the increasing tempo. Playing that on guitar and drums and trying my damn best to keep up was really hard, but I think the sloppiness at the end works really well in its favor. Planning this to be the second to last track of the album, right before Actually Leaving. About ten minutes long. I'm a little concerned that going from the wall of sound to another breakdown might screw up the pacing a little bit, but the times I have listened to the transition, It works pretty well. If I do need to put a trick in between, I'm sure I can figure something out, but we'll see later on when I got more songs to work on.

I remember talking about "Pretty Pink Eyes" on my Tumblr literally a year ago, at the time I'm writing this. That image of Ableton didn't have this many tracks, that's for certain. For the past year I've been struggling with how this song sounded in comparison to everything else. That struggle only got worse as time went on, when I started songs like The First Snowfall, Muni, and especially Fargo Breakdown. This was the first song I started working on alongside Actually Leaving, back in late June of 2022. That was during the time I was still learning how to use Ableton, and how to use it exclusively, no Audacity. Because of that, it just sounded completely different no matter what I tried, and my confidence in music making severely plummeted. There came a point where this song no longer sounded like a song to me, and it sounded worse each time I tried.

At the end of last month I finally realized what my big problem was. It was how I was trying to fix it. Working on old varnish doesn't make things better. They don't mix well. I was working on set ups for tracks that I did a year ago, give or take. It didn't matter if I added another guitar track, or if I changed the distortion or the amount of reverb, or even if I included audio recordings of the song through my speakers into the mix, it wasn't gonna sound like how I wanted it to. I had to start from scratch. I kinda knew this for a while, but I was so afraid to do so due to how hard of a task I thought that would be, and I was afraid I wasn't gonna get exactly what I wanted. There were parts I thought that fit the album well already, and there was the thought it'd be pointless to just restart in that department. But again, there came a point where I just said screw it, and just do it. Wouldn't hurt to try. So I created a copy of the project, got rid of all the audio effects, and reset all the volumes and channels, and started from scratch. And holy hell, the entire song sounds so much better, and more accurate to what I wanted for the album. The amount of relief I felt after finishing the base of the mixing in just a week was literally indescribable, and it felt really good to have been able to do it without that much hassle. Three part song, with three breakdown parts. About eleven minutes long. It's finally the wall of sound I've always wanted it to be. And that makes me incredibly happy. Plans for it to go right after Fargo Breakdown. Whenever this album release, remind me to never work on the same song for over a year and a half ever again. That shit was fucking brutal.

Here is the current tracklist. For clarification, this is nowhere near a finished tracklist, both in order and amount. I want to fill in the middle part of this album more. I just tend to focus on the beginning and end the most. I got plans for a song that will also be ten minutes long that would go right before The First Snowfall. A more slower piece, similar to Snow Globes right before Basketball Shoes by Black Country, New Road. All of these songs shown here, except Actually Leaving, will include lyrics or at least vocals of some kind. I will probably release an instrumental version of this album in the future, whenever the album comes out. I really thought I was gonna release this album this year. That's kinda funny. Soon, I'll probably release some snippets of these tracks onto here, just for fun. Don't expect anything much, probably just thirty second pieces of my favorite parts of these tracks. I might as well tease a little bit more than I have been, eh? Thanks for reading this painfully long post. I appreciate it.

#pigeonscratch #pigeonscratchmusic #northernminnesotapart2 #victoriasisland #bandcamp #image described #i wish i was kaiju #after kaiju #ableton #musicproduction #musicmaking #iwiwk #furrymusic #furry music #pigeon scratch #post rock

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tittytania · 4 years ago

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Finding ChristBorg: A TED talk about what happened during the Coldharbour Compact.

Reposted from my tes reddit bc I want to see what y’all think.

I can't tell if I'm a genius, completely insane, or if I'm just late to the lore-party. Time to find out I guess. TL;DR at the bottom.

So it has never been explained what Sotha Sil did during the Coldharbour Compact to convince the daedric princes to not manifest on Nirn without an intermediary, and it probably never will be since the mystery of it all is far too cool. But that doesn't mean I can't read into it like literature and look for meaning in the other texts I can compare it to.

To start, Vivec is based off of the Shakta variation of the half female/half male Ardhanarishvara, where the gold-skinned female half is the right side. Both Vivec and Ardhanarishvara represent unity and duality, and looking at some images of Ardhanarishvara, it's kinda hard to argue that Vivec wasn't based off of them. Kirkbride even confirmed that Ardhanarishvara was the inspiration for Vivec in an AMA. Now, Vivec is part of the god trio the Almsivi Tribunal, along with Almalexia and Sotha Sil. Shiva, who Ardhanarishvara is the avatar of, is also part of a god trio, called the Trimurti in Hinduism. So it would make sense if the other members of the tribunal are also based off of one member of a real world religious triad. I have a shaky idea of who Almalexia could be, but my theory for her god-inspiration is nowhere near as solid as my theory for Sotha Sil, who I believe is based on Jesus Christ.

To start, their characterizations have multiple similarities. Both are one branch of a god-triad, with Sotha Sil as part of the Tribunal, and Jesus as The Son in the Holy Trinity. Both serve as a teacher, with Jesus being referred to as Teacher several times in the Bible, and Sotha Sil giving lessons on magic and Mysticism to the Psijic Monks. Also, both are characterized as wise, patient, and celibate. They both talk about moral and philosophical concepts with their followers, neither Jesus nor Sotha Sil are shown as having a temper or raising their voices, and neither of them are shown with a spouse or partner. Sotha Sil is specifically shown as not caring about the Night Mother's attempts to sexually manipulate him in book seven of 2920, The Last Year of the First Era. Now I know that 2920 is considered a work of historical fiction in-universe, but I don't think that matters in this situation since I'm approaching this as a person reading a text, not as a person living inside the lore world.

In terms of specific scenes that connect Sotha Sil and Jesus, the first I will mention is that they both use a makeshift whip to beat intruding wrongdoers and drive them away, while yelling about fathers. In the Truth in Sequence vol. 8 book, it says that "[t]hrough His will alone, Mighty Seht wound the veins (of metal ore) into god-bronze whips, and lashed the Prince pitilessly," saying "[b]ehold the wrath of lost Ald Sotha! Know death at my hands, false-son of a false-father!" In the Bible, Jesus found people doing sales in a place of worship, and then He "made a whip of cords, (and) He drove them all out of the temple," saying “Take these things away! Do not make My Father’s house a house of merchandise!” (John 2 15-16).

Also, Jesus had close friends and followers who were called his apostles, and Sotha Sil has his own Clockwork Apostles. Sil's apostles reside in the Clockwork Basilica, and while basilica isn't an exclusively Christian term, it is frequently used to describe a type of church architecture, and is a term the pope uses to recognize distinguished churches.

Another similarity that I found was in the plot of Morrowind, where Sotha Sil's death was caused at the hands of Almalexia, who was someone he had once loved and trusted, much like with Jesus and Judas.

The most notable life similarity as it relates to the Coldharbour Compact is that both leave the earthly world in order to make a deal for the benefit of the souls on earth, and then return to the earthly world. This parallel is given extra weight with the descriptions of the scene in the book 2920, The Last Year of the First Era. Sotha Sil returns from Coldharbour by way of someone "rolling aside the great boulder that blocked the entrance to the Dreaming Cavern. This sounds a lot like the scene in the bible of the discovery that Jesus had risen from the dead, where "an angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door" (Matthew 28:2). In addition, Jesus said "after He is killed, He will rise [on] the third day," (Matthew 17:23) and after Sotha Sil returned from Coldharbour, he "felt he had been away for months, years, but only a few days had transpired." Perhaps it had been 3?

In addition to the life and behavior similarities, there are similarities in dress. In the 2920 book, Sotha Sil is always described as wearing a white robe or cloak. In ESO, Sotha Sil is shown as barefoot, and wearing a blue sash over his long white robe. In medieval and renaissance art, Jesus is most always depicted as barefoot, and is frequently shown with a blue cloth over his shoulder. In most resurrection art, as well as in almost all 20th/21st century art, Jesus is depicted as dressed in white. While Jesus usually isn't usually shown wearing both the blue sash and the white robe at once like Sotha Sil is, I found one modern interpretation of Jesus that does dress him this way, and several depictions of him in Chinese art that also portray him like this.

I'm feeling almost conspiratorial here, but these similarities are far too many for me to think it's accidental, and therefore I have to think that all of this is meant to suggest that Sotha Sil serves a Christ-figure role in his story, i.e. in sacrificing own life like Jesus did in order to make his deal in the Coldharbour Compact. However I don't think Sil's sacrifice was quite so simple. After he is asked what he offered the Daedra in return for the deal, he states: "The deals we make with Daedra... [s]hould not be discussed with the innocent." This implies that in contrast to the Christ mythos, Sil's sacrifice was not blameless; he did not come out of the deal with his hands clean.

So, a Christ-like sacrifice that isn't quite as pure and selfless as it is in Christianity. What could that be?

My theory is that in order to make the Coldharbour Compact, he sold the lives of Vivec and Almalexia along with his own. Perhaps he told the princes that he knew the tribunal's godhood would end, and in exchange for their cooperation he promised not to tell the other tribunes or make any attempt to prevent his and his companions' demise. (After all, as far as I know he made the mechanical heart for keeping his city functional, not for recreating the divinity the heart of Lorkhan provided.) Or, maybe he offered to do something to assist in bringing the Tribunal down, and losing Sunder and Keening, the tools that helped them maintain their divinity, was intentional on his part. Sil deliberately sacrificing his own life appears to be reflected in Azura's statement after his death. She said "he shed his mortality long ago, and I am certain his death was no small relief to him." Of course she'd know that he let go of his life ages ago if he had willingly sold it to her. Of course she would be certain that he found his death to be a relief, if she'd heard him say so himself when he was explaining why a god would ever offer such a deal.

It would also make sense with Sotha Sil's character, since he allegedly loved the people on Nirn more than Almalexia or Vivec did, and the destruction of Gilverdale could have definitely been a traumatic enough reminder of the destruction of Ald Sotha for him to do something dramatic to prevent it ever happening again. And guilt over sacrificing his friends could have definitely been a contributing factor to the worsening self-isolation and intense depression in his later life. It would also be a definite explanation for why he apparently never met another soul in the 10 years between losing the tools and his death. Not only had he become extremely disillusioned with the imperfections of the world, he had now finalized the deal he made so long ago, and saw no point in continuing to interact with a deeply flawed world he was essentially finished with.

However, I do see some issues with this and how it would work in-universe. Namely the fact that Hermaeus Mora's seekers said the prince received something from every individual on Nirn as part of the deal, which is quite different from what I'm suggesting. A different deal for each prince would also explain why Sil was able to include Clavicus Vile and Mephala in the compact at a much later date. There would be no reason for Vile and Mephala to submit to a collective deal whose terms had already been decided. So if he offered the tribunal's lives as part of the deal, he would have needed to offer other things as well. But for me the most significant in-universe issue I struggled with was that using his death as a bargaining tool would create a massive problem for his ability to enforce the deal in the future. This could explain why both Molag Bal and Mehrunes Dagon manifested on Nirn after Sotha Sil's death, but since I think they were summoned by qualified mortals that could have been a loophole. Either way, making a deal that is meant to last forever by promising something that can never be taken back in the case of a breach of contract seems extremely short-sighted for someone who claims to be cursed with certainty. Especially considering how many of the princes there were known to be cheats and liars.

Unless, that is, you believe this theory I read about the reason why Sil was completely silent as he was killed. My original belief was that he was silent because he'd seen it coming long ago, and knew that nothing he could have said would have changed Almalexia's mind. And while that would be in character for him, now I'm starting to think that it was because he had already uploaded his consciousness elsewhere. This would fit in with the Christ-figure parallels, due to the Christian belief that Jesus is risen from the dead and very much alive. While Jesus returned to life at the same time he emerged from the cave, the completion of Sotha Sil's death sacrifice didn't happen until long after his return via the cave. While I have found no explicit evidence that he's still around, when you find his body in Morrowind he is shown hanging, with his arms outstretched at his sides, in a sort of crucifixion pose. And after the crucifixion comes the resurrection. Perhaps Sotha Sil is still around somewhere in the gears of his city, and he promised the princes he'd never be present or have any influence on Nirn so long as they kept up their end of the deal. Additionally, the 37th sermon of Vivec mentions Sotha Sil as holding "his swollen belly," carrying "[his] daughter." While Vivec's sermons are hardly ever literal, Kirkbride's comments suggest that maybe Vivec was being somewhat literal in this instance. Regarding this concept art, Kirkbride said "note the cosmic baby growing inside Sotha Sil. While Sotha Sil is dead as we saw in the add-on pack “Tribunal”, the child survived." Perhaps one of Sotha Sil's many body modifications made him able to carry and birth a child, and then he created a daughter through self-cloning or some other method that allows him to have enough influence to enforce the compact.

TL;DR - Sotha Sil has a lot of similarities with Jesus, so he's a Christ figure and therefore his sacrifice in the Coldharbour Compact was himself, and Almalexia and Vivec too, and that also means that he may still be around.

Anyways, thanks for reading and sorry if this sounds like I'm putting red strings on a wall as my application essay to the r/SothaSimps fan club. Also, lmk if I'm missing anything obvious. For me right now Reading Lore On The Bedroom Floor is a bit more manageable than playing the games, and there may be something I've just completely looked over.

#sotha sil #tes #the elder scrolls #tesblr #vivec #almalexia #morrowind #elder scrolls online #eso #lord seht

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shotofire · 4 years ago

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Dream Catcher

•LEVI ACKERMAN x READER

•Overview: In which you own a stand to sell dream catchers, and Levi takes an interest in the concept

•Warning: Cursing, angst, mentions of sex, descriptive gore

•Season: Not specified

It had been going on for weeks now. Levi Ackerman would wake up pretty much every night covered in sweat and breathing so fast as if the air might run out. Nightmares were nothing new to him at this point. They came and went, but it had been a few years since they’d been this bad.

He wasn’t sure what had triggered the dreams. A mission hadn’t occurred in almost two months believe it or not. The reoccurring nightmares were always the same, down to the details. It started with him in a beautiful field filled with flowers, and the sun was warming his skin.

The peace in the beginning was always short lived, and soon he’d hear a terrified scream erupt behind him. The mood of the fresh air would change immediately, and everything around him had changed in the blink of an eye. Instead of a field filled with flowers it was a field scattered with dead bodies. It seemed to go on for miles, bodies covered in their own blood.

Scream after scream filled the air leaving no room for silence. He would watch as titans snatched up his friends and chewed their body parts like candy. He wanted to help them and he was skilled enough to do so, but his feet couldn’t move.

Everyone would be screaming his name and begging him for help. But the ground acted as if it were glue, keeping him in place as he watched everyone die. Every last person in the field would be ripped apart at ease, leaving him the last one alive. Tears would be streaming down his face as he saw the faces of everyone he cared about with fear struck expressions that would stare back at him.

The titans wouldn’t pay any mind to him. He’d be left alone with no one to care about, no one to love. Even though Levi would die before he admitted it, his greatest fear is to be alone. It’s not the fear of dying that leaves him paralyzed, why would he be scared of the inevitable? Being alone is avoidable and a more logical fear in his opinion.

Once a titan looked at him with a gut wrenching smile he’d sit up in his bed at full speed. His shirtless chest would be hot to the touch and sticky with sweat. There had been a few times he’d woken up with dried tears on his cheeks, or still in the middle of crying.

He pushed it aside at first thinking they’d just go away on their own and he’d be fine. None of his nightmares lasted more than a solid week because he’d find someway to get over them. But once it hit almost a month he was beginning to worry. His lack of sleep was catching up to him, and the bags under his eyes were prominent.

Hanji had bugged him about it for about a week now. She constantly pointed out his dark circles and how slow he was starting to move. The women went as far as to call him ‘an old man’ just so he may tell her what’s going on.

“You look older today,” she whispered in his ear, as he drank some coffee, causing him to jump in surprise.

Levi rolled his eyes once he knew who it was. She just never seemed to go a minute without saying something. He’s been in the dining hall for maybe an hour and she’d already insulted him five times.

“Maybe it’s because i’m getting older,” he grumbles in annoyance.

She sits across from him with a loud thud. Her hands immediately reach across the table to grab his wrists which nearly causes him to drop his coffee. The man didn’t even have the energy to ask what the hell she was doing. Her eyes began scanning his face swiftly, taking in every detail.

“When was the last time you had a good nights sleep?” She asks before letting her tight grip on his wrists go.

He scoffs as if what she was talking about was way off. She basically jumps across the table to smack her palms on either side of his face, squishing it a bit. He grabs her wrists to move her grip but it’s no use, he was too tired and she was far too determined.

“I heard you gasp in your room last night when I was going to get a drink,” she says with narrowed eyes, “and I know you aren’t getting laid so it had to have been a nightmare.”

His mouth hands open at the somewhat insulting words that came out of Hanji’s mouth. How would she know he wasn’t getting anything? He pushed his eyebrows together in a knot and wanted to tell her to fuck off, but he kept himself together.

“So what if I did, it’s not a big deal,” he mumbles and she finally lets go of his face.

“It kinda is a big deal if it’s been going on for weeks,” she says while waving her hands in the air, “eye bags like those don’t form over night.”

He looks down at the wooden table so she’ll stop pointing out and looking at his sleepy features. He’s fully aware of how bad he looks but he’s too stubborn to get help. Hanji knows of Levi’s ways and that’s why she’s trying to annoy the hell out of him. She thinks if she bothers him enough he’ll seek help just for her to leave him alone.

“I know a way your nightmares can go away,” she says with her tone laced in excitement, “get a dream catcher!”

The man had never heard of a dream catcher. For a second he thought it was a drug, he wouldn’t put it past Hanji to try something ‘in the name of science.’ His confused features become prominent and she realizes she should probably explain what this dream catcher is.

“About a month ago I was having this awful dream and it kept going on and on. So I went into town to see a doctor for some strong sleeping medicine and then I saw this colorful sign that said,” she stood up to show how big the sign was, “dream catchers for sale!”

Levi was still beyond confused at this point. And his annoyance with how much energy she had this early in the morning was growing. He just wanted to walk away and get some paperwork done, and then hopefully be able to fall asleep without disruptions. Deep down he knew the dream was just going to happen again.

“The girl there will explain it to you, she will do a lot better job than me, but basically they get rid of your bad dreams,” the smile on her face was huge.

That’s when Levi became interested. So all he didn’t to do was get a dream catcher and this would all go away? It seemed easy enough. Hanji noticed the way his shoulder perked up and her smile only grew.

“It’s right next to that little tavern I forced you to go to with me that one morning, and it’s impossible to miss the sign,” she beams, “also the girl is cute, so you may leave with another prize.”

She wiggles her eyebrows and Levi can’t help but roll his eyes at the crazy women. She stands up quickly before strutting out of the room feeling victorious.

“Thank you Hanji,” Levi whispers just enough for her to hear.

“You’re welcome,” she sings back.

He’s left alone with his thoughts. Was he really going to go see whatever the hell Hanji was talking about? When it comes down to it she didn’t explain what it looked like or if it was a damn drug. He really was going into this blind, but his need for sleep was far too high to not atleast check it out.

Going into town wasn’t his favorite thing to do whatsoever. Most of the time he wouldn’t be seen walking around. Hanji would have to beg for hours, sometimes days, for him to leave base with her. In all the years of knowing him she’d only succeeded a handful of times.

Yet here he was walking through town with his hands stuffed into his pockets. It was rather noisy and crowded, which is what he hated the most. The sun was shining and children were out playing, running in the streets like no one else was around. He had nearly ate shit when a little girl ran infront of him as if he wasn’t there.

“I’m gonna go crazy,” he mumbled to himself.

Right as he turned the corner he saw that sign Hanji had described to him. Swirls of pink, purple, and blue were painted onto it and white block letters spelled out ‘Dream Catchers For Sale!’ His eyes observed the little stand and watches as a women handed the young girl money with a big smile on her face.

Once the women walked away and no one was occupying it he began making his way in that direction. The girl had turned her back before he’d gotten there, he could only guess she was putting away the money. When she turned back around her eyes widened and she jumped at his presence. The girls cheeks heated up as soon as she realized what she did.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t hear you come up and got a bit startled,” she says nervously.

Levi half smiles at the girl, and he kinda surprised himself with his own actions. He finds her awfully cute which he didn’t see coming. It had been a few years since he admitted to finding someone attractive. He looks behind her to see some sort of art, maybe, hanging on nails imbedded in wood. The girl had gotten a big slab of wood and painted it with the same colors as her sign.

“How can I help you?” She asks with a warm smile that makes his heart skip a beat. What the hell is going on with him right now?

“My uh,” he thought for a second, “my friend told me about this thing called a dream catcher. I wanted to get one possibly.”

She smiles and nods, happy to help someone.

“Well i’m (y/n) and i’d be glad to help you,” she beams.

Levi can’t help but abserve her beauty, and her name had a nice ring to it. She turned around to grab one of the objects hanging on the wall before bringing it back to him. She sets it down on the small table infront of her so he can get a better look.

He observes the object and found it rather interesting. There was a large circle at the top, appearing to be made out of wood, that had red string wrapped around and across it to create abstract patterns. More red string hung off the bottom of it, and at the end of those strings were white and grey feathers.

(y/n) watches as his eyes scan over it in curiosity. She loves the looks on people’s faces when they take in every detail of her hard work. He then looks up at her to see she’s looking at him, and his heart beat increases a bit.

“I’m Levi by the way,” he says, “And i’m guessing this is the so called dream catcher?”

She didn’t expect the stranger to tell her his name but she was glad he did.

“Nice to meet you Levi, and yes it is! Would you like me to explain the dream catcher a bit?” She says excitedly with her same smile that got prettier by the minute.

His answer comes in a nod.

“So, a dream catcher is supposed to prevent you from having nightmares, and it’s the healthy option too. Getting medicine you know little about can be dangerous and have negative effects,” she explains.

Levi can’t help but watch the way her lips move and eyes light up. She was rather endearing and knew how to keep your attention with her sweetness. He could tell she found joy in helping people, and he found that admirable.

“It’s not proven to work so don’t come yelling at me tomorrow if you still struggle to sleep,” she giggles, “it’s more of a positive energy object. If you put faith into it and wish it to work it most likely will, that’s what my grandmother always told me. Plus i’ll be handing it off to you with my positive energy!”

He couldn’t help but smile at how excited her tone was. She was happy to help him, a stranger, with her little creation.

“Basically just keep an open mind and gather up all of your positivity,” she says, “Oh and also you hang it on your wall, preferably near your bed. Even better if it’s above your head.”

She was sorta rambling due to the fact she found Levi extremely attractive. It’d been awhile since a man had found his way to her stand, let alone one who had such perfect features. Sure she’d noticed the bags under his eyes but she knew that was the reason he was here.

“Well uh, i’ll take it. Thank you for explaining to me (y/n),” he smiles softly.

The way her name rolled off his tongue sent a chill up her spine. His voice was so deep and smooth, she wanted to hear it in other ways. She pinched her wrist at the dirty thought that was beginning to creep into her head. This man could be crazy for all she knows.

Before she can tell him the price he’s already digging in his pocket and setting the money on the table. She could quickly tell it was more than what she charged.

“Let me get you your change-“ “No, keep it.”

Her cheeks heat up at his kindness. She was struggling financially right now, not many people found her business appealing.

“Actually,” he grabs more money and puts it with the stack on the table, “I’ll take two more.”

(y/n) can’t help but smile brightly at his actions. She grabs two more for him and puts all the dream catchers in a small basket then sets a note on top that Levi didn’t seem to notice. She hands it off to him and he smiles back at her.

“Thank you so much,” she says with her sweet voice that Levi found comforting.

“Of course,” he says, “I’ll be back tomorrow to tell you if it worked for me, but it’s more of an excuse to see you again.”

Her eyes widen at his words and she’s sure her face reached a shade of red that it never had before. He watches as her features get all flustered at his words and he smirks. This girl truly was adorable and he had to come see her again.

“Have a nice rest of your day (y/n),” he says before turning his back and walking off.

“Y-You too,” she stutters. In that moment she wanted to face palm herself for being such a flustered mess. She’s just met him maybe fifteen minutes ago and he already had an effect of her.

That night Levi hung all three dream catchers on the wall above his headboard. When he went to put the basket on his desk he noticed the small yellow tinted piece of paper laying on the bottom, face down. He picks it up and sees the neat handwriting spread across it.

Thank you for supporting my business!

My positive energy is rooting for you to have a good nights sleep!

Levi smiles at the words, she were awfully kind. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself from going to see you tomorrow, even if he had things to do. Her sweat voice range through his head as his eye lids became heavy. He laid down and it only took him a few seconds to fall into a deep sleep.

Tonight was the first night in weeks that Levi slept peacefully. There were no bad dreams, and no seeing his friends die. He’d slept so soundly then when he woke up he was kind of confused. That��s when it hit him, he’d just gotten a full night of sleep with no interruptions.

He stretched his body and it felt amazing. His eyes didn’t feel like bricks in his face, his head wasn’t pounding, and his body felt loose instead of stiff. He looked up at the dream catchers with a small smile on his face. The girls little creation had actually worked, but he thought it was her kindness that contributed to the good nights sleep.

Later that day he walked back to (y/n)’s stand and praised her for his good nights sleep. The blush on her face never seemed to leave the whole time they talked. And Levi couldn’t remember that last time he’d laughed this much during a conversation. If anyone who knew him saw him right now they’d think he was filled to the brim with alcohol. That’d be the only thing they could think of to make his personality do a three-sixty.

Levi ended up asking (y/n) to get coffee with him the next morning. It was the start to a beautiful relationship.

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wasabito · 4 years ago

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had so much fun writing for my baby boy tendou, so here’s my entry for the hqhq sfw server collab! be sure to check out the rest on the masterlist found here! enjoy ✨

words: 3.0k

prompt: “you woke me up at 3am for this?”

synopsis: your neighbor is ridiculous, kind of annoying and little bit on the weird side, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

You had to be the biggest idiot on the planet—an obvious exaggeration, yes, but you were still inclined to believe it was true.

How else could you explain the feeling of being so utterly fed up with one’s actions like this? Were there enough words in the dictionary to describe just how exhausted you were by your own antics, more specifically, your forgetfulness since that’s what had landed you in a world of pain and embarrassment?

The answer was no.

You sat with your back pressed against your front door, head in your hands and chin tucked between your raised knees and chest. At your side was your wallet along with stacks of newspapers, coupons and whatever else had been stuffed in your mailbox, bills probably. Advertisements too. Honestly, it was hard to be happy about a new restaurant opening up down the block when you were currently stuck—locked out of your apartment to be precise.

The landlord of your cheap little complex wasn’t expected to be back for another hour according to the sign posted outside of his office. So until then, you’d remain posted up by your doorstep like some loiterer.

You shifted in place and blew a puff of air from your lips, feeling little pinpricks in your legs. For the fifth time in the last forty-five minutes you felt like kicking yourself, hard.

The sun hung low, nearly touching the distant horizon signifying the end of another day. Even the sky was painted a warm umber, casting dim shadows.

“Locked out, huh?” came a snide, but accented voice.

It took you way longer than necessary to realize that suddenly you weren’t the only person on this floor. God, where was your head at?

A pair of forest green crocs stood before you, complete with a few odd charms and trinkets. A cartoon volleyball, pinned next to a smiley face, a donut and a gaudy “i heart paris” chain dangling from the ankle strap. A person’s shoes could say a lot about who they were...your mother thought so, at least.

Resisting the urge to projectile vomit all over this stranger’s rather questionable taste in footwear, your wary gaze panned upward, glossing over white tube socks and a pair of the longest legs you’ve ever seen on a person—yet another exaggeration. You came face to face with a crooked smile. Curious ruby eyes returned your stare with almost the same amount of scrutiny.

Who the hell was this guy?

Mystery-man easily towered over you, and not only because you were hunched over and sitting. He was tall as hell, all lanky build, gangly arms and legs disguising lithe muscle and a surprisingly sturdy frame. He looked like the i-run-every-morning type; semi-athletic at the very least. His buzzed hair was the color of cinnamon, no that wasn’t right, paprika maybe? Either way, it contrasted sharply with the paleness of his skin, so much so that you could see the faint blue of the veins in his arms.

“Yoohooo, anybody hooome?” He tilted his head at you.

“Huh? Oh uh, yeah, I’m locked out. I forgot my key inside and Mr. Laurent won’t be back until later.”

“Hmm. That sucks...”

“...Um… do I… do I know you or something? You look a little familiar.”

He pinned you with a funny look, before pulling out a set of keys from the back pocket of his shorts.

“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t~ I mean we are neighbors, after all.” Laughing as if he’d made some sort of joke, he entered his apartment with a twirl and a dramatic wave of his arms.

You stared at his door for a solid minute, only to finally succumb to your urges and facepalm at your own idiocy. Of course he looked familiar, how could he not when he literally lived four feet away.

With a sigh of resignation, you braced yourself for another hour spent sitting outside your front door. It wasn’t like there was any other place you could go or anyone you could call. The battery icon on your phone blinked red, warning that it was soon to run out of juice. Guess that meant no Among Us or Subway Surfer for you.

Five minutes later, the door next to you opened. It was Mystery-man again, but this time, he sat in front of his door, just like you were. And he did so with a bag of pretzels and a jar of nutella in hand.

“Must be bored out here by yourself.” He crunched on a pretzel before offering you the bag to take some. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep ya company.”

You weren’t sure why, but there was something about this guy that intrigued you. You half-wondered if it was the funny little curl of his smile, or the wideness of his eyes that made it seem like he was looking at all of you, all at once.

"You must be pretty bored...uh,"

"Satori Tendou, but most people call me Tendou. Miracle boy works just fine too."

"Right... Tendou, as I was saying, you must be incredibly bored to come sit out here with me. You sure you don't have anything important to do?"

Tendou's grinned widened. "Positive! And it costs me nothing to be neighborly, so don't even sweat it."

That was...nice of him?

If sitting outside with you was the way he wanted to spend his late Tuesday afternoon who were you to deny him? And truthfully, you didn't mind the company, at least not really. Provided this guy wasn't some creepy-stalker-weirdo, you were sure there wasn't any harm in getting to know the person who lived one door over.

"So, Tendou, how long have you lived in the area? You don't really look like you're from around here...I could be wrong."

Tendou raised a thin brow at you. "Weeeell, if you're asking about how long I've lived next door, it would be about three maybe four months give or take, but if you're asking how long I've lived in Paris, it would be a year next month. Speaking of, I think Semisemi has a birthday coming up..."

You watched as he pulled out his cell phone and tapped away at the illuminated glass screen. You couldn't help but notice the goofy little anime stickers on his phone case. One in particular caught your attention.

“Is that...Kirara? From Inuyasha??”

“Oho! So, you recognize this?”

Backtracking, you mumble out, “Ah, well…only a little.” Though your face was turned away, the tiny smile on your lips was not hidden from Tendou and he thought you were pretty cute.

Funnily enough, what you had expected to be a rather unnerving and possibly creepy exchange turned out to be anything but. Tendou was incredibly fun to talk to—a bit teasing and a little overwhelming with his superfluous hand movements and gestures. But he was funny and a lot kinder that you would’ve given him credit for.

You learned that he was originally from Japan; it explained his accented French. He had come to Paris right out of high school to study culinary arts in one of the most renowned countries for it. Now he worked as a chocolatier, under the tutelage of a master patisserie in the city, an older man who was both a creative genius and a thorn in Tendou’s side. Tendou spoke of his teacher with equal parts awe and annoyance.

And he got to know you too. How you’d found yourself in Paris, thousands of miles away from home in an effort to rediscover yourself in the city full of rich history and culture.

You didn’t have many friends here, and it truly was a pleasure to make his acquaintance.

Soon, you both heard the telltale sound of jangling keys as your landlord rounded the corner with his clipboard in hand. Once you were able to get your door open, you waved a goodbye to Tendou.

“Thanks for keeping me company, you really didn’t have to.”

“No biggie, it was fun!” He threw a mischievous little grin and a peace-sign over his shoulder and reentered his apartment.

You found yourself wanting to cross paths with him again, and hopefully in better circumstances. But you hadn't known your wishful thinking was soon to manifest as you ambled through grocery store aisles a week later, eyeing down any items with pictures on it.

“Why in the hell is this toilet paper so expensive.” You mumbled.

“So, you complain about the price of toilet paper, but wear sneakers that cost two-thirds our rent.” That voice sounded familiar, and after hearing it for about an hour just days ago, you were a bit surprised you could recognize it so quickly.

Stunned, you looked up to find Satori Tendou, your quirky neighbor with an arm full of pita chips, a milk carton, and baby carrots.

“I never said I made the best choices.” You found yourself smiling despite the previous crease in your brow. “...Dude, get a cart before you drop everything.”

Instead of getting his own, he simply dumped what he had into your cart with a teasing grin. You couldn’t argue with his logic there. Tendou sidled up against you, once again towering over you with a kind of ease that should be criminal. “Need help reading something?”

You wanted to say no. You almost said no. But swallowing your pride, you gave a weak nod. “Yeah, this word right here.” Pointing to the unfamiliar script printed on the label. “What the heck is this?”

“Weeeeell, looks like that brand is scented, ya know, for when ya—”

“Don’t bother finishing that sentence...please.”

You quickly grab what you need and continue on down the aisle with Tendou following closely behind.

Just like when you’d first met him, he made conversation the entire way. By the time you both made it to the cash registers, you’d argued at least three times over french pronunciations and whether cashews were the cousin of peanuts.

And just as last time, he left you with a grin and a peace-sign while you stared after his retreating back, paid groceries in hand.

After an entire day spent baking, you found yourself on Tendou’s doorstep with a tupperware full of baked goodies later the next evening. You had been meaning to thank him for being such a good neighbor to you. It was certainly unexpected, but a welcome gesture nonetheless.

You only had to knock twice before the door was wrenched open and you were greeted with the set of...vanilla? Some pop song played in the background while your neighbor looked at you curiously.

"H-Hey Tendou, I um...I baked you these." You held out the plastic container, hoping he'd simply take it from you without question and you could return to your apartment without somehow embarrassing yourself. "There's a little bit of everything in there, oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, macadamia nut—wait you aren't allergic to anything, right?"

"Nooope! Not a thing, thanks neighbor!"

"It was no problem, especially since you've helped me, not once but twice now."

Frowning, you couldn't help but be a little upset with yourself. You'd come to France to prove that you could, in fact, live a normal life outside of your family’s jurisdiction but day by day you were proving to need them more and more.

It was disappointing, to say the least.

"Hmm, what’s with the constipated look on your face. Did the toilet paper not help?” Tendou tilted his head at you with a teasing grin, lips curled at the edges, taunting. You blinked up at him, surprised, and if you were honest, a little annoyed too.

"Hah?!"

"Just thought it was worth a mention, nighty-night~!"

Tendou proceeded to shut the door on you; one hand rested on the frame and the other held on to the cookies. You quickly took a step back lest he chop your entire arm off, ready to trudge off in the direction of your own home but not before sticking your tongue out at him.

Stupid Tendou, always saying stupid shit.

You were on the couch, half asleep when it dawned on you that it had been his own twisted, “Tendou” way of cheering you up.

The rest of the month passed just like that. Occasionally, you would bump into Tendou at the grocery store, or the leasing office, or even the laundromat. And every single time, he’d either make you laugh until your sides hurt or annoyed enough to want to give him a friendly punch. At one point, you two had even exchanged phone numbers, because according to Tendou “it was ridiculous not to have your friends on speedial” which only led to hours spent on Facetime or playing iMessage games.

You knew exchanging numbers would come back to bite you in the ass, it was only a matter of when.

It was clear you weren’t going to any sleep tonight, that was for sure. The incessant buzzing of your cell phone every five minutes was an enemy to your circadian rhythm. You could name on one hand those in your contacts with enough sense to know that you lived in a completely different time zone from them now.

Somehow your neighbor was the very last person you suspected, but it was his contact photo that stared back at you, goofy looking grin and all. You squinted against the brightness of your screen in your otherwise dark bedroom.

you up?

come quick

gotta show ya somethin

come oooon

you're awake, i know you are

It took you less than a minute to shuffle on a pair of slippers, grab your keys (you weren't going to forget them this time) and slip out of your apartment.

You hadn't even knocked twice before the door was pulled open. Tendou looked a mess, more so than usual. Unidentified stains littered the apron looped around his thin waist, streaks of what you hoped were just flour and granulated sugar were all over his hands. You almost wanted to ask if he was baking or dealing dope.

“You woke me up at three in the morning...for this?”

“Yuuup!”

"When I said you could call me at any time, I really didn’t mean any time.” You scratch your side, a contemplative look on your face at the sight of Tendou in what you would assume to be his pajamas. An old volleyball hoodie with the words "Shirazorizawa" printed across the front, and old sweats the were so obviously cut with scissors at the knee.

Rolling your eyes, you mumbled a curt, “Alright, move aside.”

Tendou ushered you over to his kitchen where several of his cooking supplies laid on the island, along with a tray of some chocolate dessert spread.

“It’s all still in the testing phase, but I think I’m onto something here.”

He was definitely giving off “mad scientist” vibes. You tried not to snort.

Holding a small chocolate cake in his hand, he smiled, a genuine smile this time. "Open wide."

You obeyed, far too tired to argue, and let him pop the treat into your mouth. Tendou watched as you chewed, as if it were the most interesting thing ever. His wide gaze carefully took in every shift in your expression.

"So? Whaddya think?"

"I...," You chewed a bit more. "...It's delicious! Is that—"

"—Pistachio, why yes it is!"

Tendou was practically bouncing on his feet with excitement. "It takes the entire thing to a whole new level."

You had to agree with him there. This was probably the best chocolate madeleine you'd ever tasted. "Great work, miracle boy. Will you be introducing this new recipe to Claude?"

Mentioning his teacher seemed to sober him up a bit. "Ehh, maybe? The old man's a bit of traditionalist, so I'll just have to figure out a way to get him to approve."

"Maybe try calling him at three in the morning?"

Tendou stuck his tongue out at you before popping a dessert in his mouth. The pure delight on his face was so contagious, you found yourself smiling just the same. You couldn’t help but admire his passion.

“Hey, Tendou… do you like your job?”

He blinked at you, chewing coming to a slow halt. “Well of course! The pay isn’t the best just yet, but it’s a labor of love. I’m willing to put my all into it at least.”

“Huh… that’s pretty cool.” You wiped your fingers on a nearby rag. “I hope to feel the same one day… if I can figure out what I wanna do.”

“Why not bake? You’re pretty good at it.”

“Oh am I? Last week you said my baking needed some work.”

“Well, duh, but my standards when it comes to confectionaries are impossibly high. Even so, I think you’d be successful as a baker. What’s stopping you from pursuing your labor of love?”

And that was the thing with Tendou. He talked a lot, teased even more, but it was never idle ramblings. Somehow, he always seemed to hit right at the heart of the issue with almost painfully uncomfortable accuracy.

“I don’t really know so…” You looked away, trailing off.

“Either way,” he said and placed a finger under your chin, raising your head until you were looking him in the eye. “I’m rooting for you.”

For a moment, you simply stared, awestruck. It was the first time in a long while someone was actually putting their faith in you, believing in you. He had come blazing into your life unabashed with his easy grins and gaze alight with mischief. His encouraging words, sincerity, sensitivity. Tendou was really incredible.

“Tendou…” You took his hand in yours, squeezing it. “Thanks. For everything.”

“Of course, what are neighbors for.”

BONUS:

Three months later you sat curled up next to Tendou on his sofa, his entire apartment smelled of chocolate cocoa with hints of cinnamon.

Before you was an application. Culinary school.

“You really think I can do this?”

Tendou placed his head on your shoulder with a tiny smirk. “One hundred and twenty percent!”

You pondered for a moment, then decided that if he thought you were up for the challenge then you’d believe him.

“For the record, you probably aren’t supposed to recommend your girlfriend for an interview. You know, conflict of interest and all.”

Tendou laughed and pulled you closer. “Trust me, we’ll be fine, so don’t worry your pretty little head, ‘kay?”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #tendou x reader #tendou satori #satori tendou #satori tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #sabi.writes

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amxranthiine · 4 years ago

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e t h e r e a l (ron weasley x poc!reader)

ethereal (adj.) extremely delicate light, not of this world Pronouns: She/her

Request: Hiiiii! Can I request a Ron weasley x sweet smart reader (if you do POC can she be black?) and she’s a slytherin and friends with a lot of people and has a huge crush on Ron and she’s pretty sarcastic when she needs to be and hermoine is jealous of her because Ron really likes reader and she’s really pretty and smart and Ron plans on confessing to her but hermoine confronts reader trying to tell her she’s not good enough for Ron but reader is headstrong and doesn’t care cuz she loves ron to much and Hermoine and Ron get into an argument about it with her telling him she loves him but he doesn’t feel the same way and asks reader out later she says yes and hermoine is heartbroken(I’m sorry that’s so long I get pretty detailed😭)

A/n: Ahhhh! My first request!! Thank you so much for requesting this darling! Set in third year, the reader is a Slytherin. I’m so sorry if this isn’t what you wanted, I struggled with her being sweet. I had to make it a little angsty, sorry about that! 2.3k words of solid chaos, please enjoy!

Warnings: Bullying? Light swearing? Angst, then a bit of *fluff*, one f-bomb.

Summary: The reader is a POC Slytherin, who is in love with her friend, Ron Weasley. After an awful day, and a run in with his obsessed best friend, can she win the love she desires? (I’m so bad at summaries I’m sorry)

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ Y/n’s POV “What on Earth are you looking at, L/n?” A voice says to my left. A voice that belonged to Draco Malfoy. I snap out of my lovesick gaze and clear my throat, trying desperately not to blush. I had been staring at my longtime crush and friend, Ron Weasley, for the past five minutes. I thought I was being subtle, not that that matters anyway. Ron barely acknowledges my presence and Malfoy notices everything. I would have been more scared if it were Granger who had caught me. Merlin knows she hates me for no reason at all, other than the fact that, you know, my robes are green instead of red. Oh, and she knows I like Ron. Bloody brilliant. Her catching my heart eyes would send me flying straight off the Astronomy Tower. She would be the one pushing me. It’s not that Hermione is a bad person, per say. It’s just, she’s a little... Possessive when it comes to her friends. Ron, specifically. She hates Slytherins with a passion solely because of Malfoy and his bag of rats, which is understandable. I just don’t understand why we’re hated for being cunning and ambitious, not all of us are dabbling in the dark arts! Malfoy pinched my dark skin, “I asked you a question, blood traitor.” Of course, because I’m friend with Muggleborns and Half-bloods, that automatically makes a traitor. Almost as bad as actually being a Muggleborn. Recoiling slightly, I lie. “I wasn’t looking at anything, Malfoy. I was merely thinking about the Potions essay that’s due on Wednesday.” On the outside, I may have looked annoyed, which I kind of was. But on the inside, I was trembling like a terrified doe. Merlin, why couldn’t he mind his own business? Playing with a strand of my dark hair, I sighed in exasperation. Malfoy snorts from beside me, “That’s a lie and you know it. Everyone knows you could rival that Mudblood Granger with how smart you are.” He spits out Hermione’s name as if it’s poison. I blush at the compliment (at least, I think it was a compliment) and look down and my hands. My green nail-polish contrasted nicely against my chocolate skin and Slytherin robes. Inhaling sharply, I take a leap of faith and glance over at the Gryffindor table, only to find the man of the hour already looking in my direction with anger and hurt written all over his face. He then looked to my left, where the blonde ferret was sitting, and his hurt turned to fury. If looks could kill, Malfoy would be cremated in a second, just from the look Ron was giving him. My heart jumped to my throat, and I could feel my pulse everywhere. Why is he giving him that look? Why is he angry with me? What did I do? Draco noticed my attention was no longer fully on him, and followed my eyes to the redhead. A look of realization crosses his face, and suddenly, he’s cackling. “Him? L/n, are you mentally deficient? He’s a Weasley! A blood traitor! He’s friends with Potter!” His words have a sense of venom to them, even if he’s laughing. I glared at him with cold eyes, “Listen, love, I have no reason to dislike Potter, unlike you. I also have no reason to dislike Ron, in fact I quite enjoy his presence. So, if you would please drop the matter and go on with your life, I would be thankful.” Malfoy’s face morphed into one of anger and disbelief. Sure, we may be friends, but I don’t deal with his crap just because he’s rich and a Malfoy. Luckily, or unluckily, Pansy Parkinson saved me from his wrath. “Yeah, okay Y/n, you’ve been in love with him since first year, everyone can see it!” She snorts, and the entire Slytherin table erupts into giggles. “That is, everyone but the Weasel,” She adds on. My face is as red as Ron’s hair and I feel my eyes tear up. Was it true? Did everyone know? I look around the room for a second, only to see Hermione glaring at me with a raised brow. I look away quickly. Malfoy is practically wheezing from how hard he’s laughing, “Honestly, Y/n, do you really think you have a chance with him? He and Granger practically eloped the day we got here! You would be crazy to think you actually stood-” He stops talking when I stand up, tears streaming down my face. “You can burn in hell, all of you.” I whisper, my voice breaking. Everyone suddenly has a look of guilt on their faces, and I look at Ron one last time. I can tell he’s concerned, but I don’t need him. “Wait, Y/n, it was just a joke!” “Merlin, she’s so dramatic.” “Y/n, where are you going? We were just kidding!” I hear yells and shouts from the Slytherin table as I sprint out of the Great Hall. But what really got to me, was the one thing I heard from the dreaded Gryffindor table. “Look at her, pathetic isn’t she? She can’t even take a joke! Ronald wher-” Bloody Granger. Bloody Malfoy. I turn the corner and slump against the wall, sliding onto the ground with my legs straight out in front of me. I struggle to breathe, the sobs are coming out too harshly. I was a liked person in my year, with plenty of friends. At this moment, though, it seemed as if everyone hated me. I tried to muffle the sound of my cries with my hand, but to no avail. “Y/n! Are you alright?” I eyes dash to the sound of the familiar voice, and quickly wipe my eyes when I see Ron running towards me. “Y-Yeah...” I mutter, “I’m fine.” My lungs hurt from holding back my cries, my lips quivering from the familiar sting in my throat. Ron sat down beside me, my eyes meeting everything but his own. “You’ve always been a bad liar,” he chuckles slightly. I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks. “Have not,” I mumble. As much as I craved his presence, I was not in the mood for games. I looked down at my hands, something that was quickly becoming a nervous habit. Luckily he must have sensed that I didn’t want to talk about what just happened, and stayed silent for what seemed like eternity. Ron examined me for a moment, he was nervous, just like me. I didn’t know what he had to be nervous about, it wasn’t like he liked me as anything more than a friend... “Y/n...” He whispered, I hummed in acknowledgment, looking at him. “I-I just want to say,” He stuttered, “I don’t care that you’re a Slytherin. I know that may seem impossible because I’m a Weasley, and a Gryffindor, but...” He trailed off and took a deep breath, “ I-I care about you...” My head shot up so fast, I’m surprised I didn’t get whiplash. My heart was thumping against my ribcage harder than ever, and my stomach felt weak. “R-Ron?” I whispered, not wanting to believe my ears or what my brain was trying to desperately to tell me. He likes you, you idiot! Why can’t you see it? He bit his lip and closed his eyes, something I would have found absolutely adorable if I wasn’t about to faint. “Y/n, I-” “Ronald!” Yelled a high pitched voice. My heart (and spirits) dropped and I sighed. Here we go. “Where have you been? We’re going to be late!” Hermione yelled. “Coming, ‘Mione,” Ron called after her. He looked at me apologetically, though he also looked... pained? “Ronald! Stop talking to the snake and hurry up!” She shouted again, and my rage levels increased drastically with those few words. Ron squeezed my hand to try and calm me, or to stop me from pulling out his best friend’s hair. “Bloody hell, woman! I’m coming!” He turned to me, “Bye, Y/n, see you later.” With a small wave, he was off. It was later that night, I was walking back to the dungeons after hours in the library, writing my Potions essay. Humming a tune I don’t remember the name off, I was slightly spaced out as I strolled along the familiar corridors. What wasn’t familiar, though, was the wand at my neck. Hermione-fucking-Granger was standing right in front of me in all her brilliant glory. Her perfect defensive stance with her wand right in my face. “Hello, Hermione,” I say, trying to stay calm. She scoffs, a disgusted look painted on her face. “Don’t ‘hello, Hermione,’ me L/n,” She practically spits. I shrug, and try to move around her. “Okay, then goodnight, Granger.” She still blocks my path. “What’s going on with you and Ron?” There is an edge to her voice that tells me there are no right answers. I am genuinely confused and befuddled, “Nothing is going on between Ron and I?” I state, though it sounds more like a question. What on Earth made her think that someone was going on between Ron and I? I mean... I wouldn’t complain if something was going on, but alas; absolutely nothing. I suppose that answer only made her angrier; “That’s bullshit.” “Is it?” I question, trying to push her buttons. She scoffs again and pushes her wand closer to my face, “Ron is mine. Not yours, mine. Stay away from him, or you’ll regret it.” I was raging at this point, but I couldn’t say anything... harsh to her, because Merlin forbid anything happen to the Brightest Witch of our year. So, instead of potentially harming my crushes obsessed best friend, I settled with, “Yeah, okay, whatever Hermione. Can I leave now?” Seemingly satisfied with my answer, she steps aside and watches as I walk away. “I’ll be watching you, L/n,” She says, trying to threaten me. I just snort. “I’m counting on it, Granger,” I call back and pranced away. Internally I was screaming, what would she do to me? Why is she so obsessed with him? Is she so jealous that she feels the need to threaten any girl that even comes close to her precious Ronald? Yes, she is. The next few days, I avoided Ron like the plague. He knew I was avoiding him, too. Anytime he was within fifteen feet of me, I turned around and practically ran the opposite direction. It didn’t help that Granger had such a smug smirk on her face whenever I saw her. All I wanted to do was shove my middle finger in her face and call it a wand. It was getting increasingly difficult to ignore Ron, and I didn’t know how much longer I could keep up with it. The longing stares when no one was watching, to the daydreams of what we could be during class- I couldn’t stay away. One night, I was- once again- walking back to the Slytherin common after hours in the library. Only, it wasn’t a wand in my face that made me pause. No, it was the distinct sound of arguing around the corner. Curious, I tip-toed towards the noise, trying to be as quiet as possible. Which was hard because of the echoing halls of Hogwarts, but somehow I wasn’t caught. “Why would you do that, Hermione?!” A very familiar voice yelled. “Because, Ronald, she’s a Slytherin!” Hermione yelled back. “That cannot be the only reason! She’s the nicest Slytherin there is! You don’t own me, ‘Mione! You have no right to decide things like that!” Ron was fuming, I could tell just by the sound of his voice. Somehow, I knew they were talking about me. I was the only Slytherin Ron could tolerate. “Fine, you want to know the reason? I love you, Ron! She was getting in the way!” Merlin, I really should stop listening before I start crying. “Getting in the way of what?!” “Us!” “There is no ‘us,’ Hermione! I don’t love you, I love Y/n! And you deliberately sought her out... And threatened her?! Bloody hell, you’re completely mental!” Ron was practically screaming at this point, he was so mad. I was completely shocked, he loved me? He loved me?! Am I dreaming? Apparently my gasp was louder than I thought, because both Ron and Hermione turned in my direction. Well, shit, I can’t run now. “You love me...?” I whisper. My mind couldn’t wrap itself around that fact. My tummy was swarmed with butterflies, my feet tingled and my hands were completely numb. I couldn’t believe it. Ron just stared at me, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “I-... I... Urm... Y-eah.. I do,” I could have laughed at his attempt to speak, but I was completely dumbfounded. Not trusting my voice, I raced over to him. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled him into a kiss. This kiss... it was something ethereal. It was slow and passionate, but full of love and desire. There was nothing else like it. Our mouths moved in sync for what seemed like forever. I didn’t want it to end. His hands traveled from my waist to my face, cupping my cheeks gently as he towered over me. Alas; all good things must come to an end. Unfortunately we have lungs that feel the need to burn when you don’t breathe. Pulling apart slowly, I smile at him, genuinely smile. His cheeks are almost as red as his robes, and his hair ruffled from my hands running through it. “I take it you love me too?” He asks, smiling just as wide as I am. I nod, and giggles flow out of my mouth from how happy I am. He looks like he’s in a daze, “Bloody hell, Y/n, you’re brilliant.” “Y/n L/n, will you be my girlfriend?” He doesn’t leave my embrace as he asks this. I gasp, “Yes! Merlin, yes!” Jumping into his arms at lightning speed. A quiet cry is heard from the right of us, and we look over to see Hermione, a hand over her mouth and tear stains on her cheeks. Ron shrugs, “Sorry, ‘Mione!”

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diavolodigitale · 4 years ago

Text

Dream Sequence. Julian

A-a-and it’s over! Thank god, this one was incredibly hard to finish. I apologize to all Julian fans in advance for writing this but I am not really sorry! Well, maybe only a little bit.

All parts of the trilogy: Lucio - Asra - Julian - All stories in PDF

A part of the "trilogy" about dream encounters dedicated to Julian (because he deserves it). Nothing special, just You (or the Apprentice, or the Reader, however you view it) and Julian spending some time together (if you know what I mean, which you probably don't, so go ahead and read it, it's pretty short, I promise). My character was male, but you are free to imagine whoever you want since there are no references to it in the text.

Genres: Romance, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Dreams, POV First Person, One-shot

Pairing: Julian/Apprentice(or Reader or You or Whatever)

Characters: Julian, Reader/Apprentice/You

Rating: G for Geez this one’s not so good ಠ╭╮ಠ

Size: around 2500 words yet again (what a coincidence, I know)

I open my eyes and see that everything around me is incredibly, terribly dull. It’s swamps as far as the eye can see, with only occasional floating isles of solid land. All of the trees are rotting and old. Their thin branches are reaching up like long eerie claws, with vines hanging everywhere, blocking many paths and obscuring the landscape. I cannot see the sun; the whole sky is covered with heavy clouds ready to burst any minute.

It doesn’t take me long to figure out whose dream this is. Being here alone brings me no satisfaction so I immediately venture to find the owner of this gloomy realm.

After a few minutes of aimless wandering, I finally spot a figure leaning on a broad tree trunk. I would have probably missed it, was it not for its white broad shirt floating in the wind.

Before I can come close enough to make my presence known, Julian looks in my direction. He doesn’t seem surprised and displays something more akin to mild excitement.

“I have not expected to see you here, but now that I have, I don’t want to imagine what would happen if I didn’t!” he shouts and waves at me.

I give him a smile and approach. My boots are already sodden and I am just glad to stand on the solid ground and not ankle-deep in mud.

“So, what are you doing here?” he asks, leaning back against the tree with arms crossed on his chest.

“Looking for you, of course,” I say, trying to shoo away the annoying insect that seems to have gotten stuck in my hair.

“Oh, how sweet of you,” he says and winks, grinning all the time. “You’re certainly a sight for sore eyes.”

“And why exactly are you here?” I ask. I know that the majority of ordinary people cannot control their dreams the way magicians do, but there still has to be a reason why Julian is in such a place out of all the possible options.

“As far as I can tell, it’s just your regular old meaningless dream, so, probably, no reason. Although now that you are here, I start to doubt that,” he says and squints at me, his gaze full of artfulness.

I roll my eyes and purse my lips.

“No, no, I’m serious!” he says hastily. “I just started to miss you, and now you’re here so I... I’m just glad to see you. And I do want to spend some time with you now since there’s hardly anything better I could be doing here.” The usual grin is back on his face and I cannot help but give him a smile in return.

“You are truly unbearable, you know that?” I ask, raising my eyebrow.

“Well, then…” he mutters and I notice how his back arches against the tree he is leaning at.

“Well, then...?” I repeat and raise my eyebrow even higher, waiting for him to elaborate. I can guess what crossed his mind, but with Julian I can never be sure about anything.

“Perhaps, I deserve to be disciplined…” he proceeds intriguingly, starring at me, hardly trying to hide the hunger in his eyes.

I shrug and curve my lips, pretending to have no idea what he is talking about.

Julian sighs impatiently and pulls me by my arm, making me bump right into him. I hear his breath quickening and feel the tight grip on my wrist which signals that he probably does not intend to let go.

“Let’s just say, you have my permission to be a bit more… rough today. I do deserve a punishment after all,” he whispers and gently traces my neck with the tip of his nose.

I sigh quietly. Sometimes I give in to one these moods of his, but it just cannot go on like this forever. Not the way he makes it at least.

“To deserve a punishment, you first have to actually convince me you did something bad, Julian,” I say and carefully pull away from him.

He furrows his brows as he is taken aback by my response. Soon, however, he plasters another toothy smile on his face and lightly tugs at my arm.

“Oh, so you want me to beg for it, I see. Fine by me, I even like this idea a little more…” he says and kisses me behind my ear.

I enjoy his closeness but cannot stop worrying that there is no getting through to him because of how obsessed he is with his feeling of guilt. I decide that there is no other way for me to resolve this other than changing my strategy, so I try to soften the expression on my face and push him against the tree.

“Actually, I thought, maybe I could ask you to be rougher with me,” I whisper, doing my best to sound sincere with my request, and rub my nose on his cheek.

I feel him tremble with his whole body and pray to all gods that my plan works.

“Me?” he asks in disbelief. I look up at him, my eyes full of plea and sincere wish, and he immediately gives in. “Right,” he says and lets out a nervous laugh,” I cannot be the only one who gets all the luxury. It’s only fair if I… If I…”

I nod agreeingly and tilt my head back a little, exposing my neck. I see the uncertainty in his eyes and stroke his face gently to encourage him.

I realise that I myself seem to start shaking, expecting eagerly for him to act, and I can neither understand why nor stop it. There is always a certain tension between us at moments like this, yet this time is feels different.

Julian wraps his arms around me, continuing to stare fixedly at one point on my neck. I feel my heart rate escalating and pray that he does something already because the wait is killing me.

He leans in and lands a few careful kisses on my neck. They seem to be as pleasant and gentle as always so I find myself enjoying them and even am able to relax a bit. Lingering uncertainly for a few seconds, he finally decides to give it a try and quickly bites me at the base of my neck. I yelp as it hurts a little more than I expected, and he immediately jerks back.

“I am so, so sorry!” he yells, his eyes round and full of guilt and fear. “Are you okay? Is there any blood? Let me take a look at it. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

I reach to the spot where he bit me before he does anything and feel it with my fingers. There obviously is no blood as he hasn’t bitten even remotely violently enough to pierce my skin. I exhale with relief and look at his worried face.

“Oh, please, forgive me, I will never do it again! What was I even thinking?” he says and pulls on his hair, sliding down the tree trunk.

I squat beside him and lift his face by the chin to make him pay attention to what I want to say.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, feeling the waves of guilt for what I made him do starting to wash over me.

“Horrendous,” he says, his eyes already trimmed with red. “And guilty, and sorry, and…”

“That’s also how I feel when I hurt you, Julian. That’s what I wanted you to understand,” I finally muster and feel the heavy burden lifted off my shoulders.

He squeezes his eye shut and bumps his head against the tree behind him.

“How foolish of me… I have never even thought about that before. I don’t know how you can forgive me for this,” he mutters. It looks like he wants to reach out and grab my hand, but decides to jerk back when our fingers nearly touch.

I take his hand into mine and the leather of his glove feels cool against my skin. We’re both exhausted so the sooner I end this conversation the better.

“I don’t want you to feel guilty or sorry, I just want you to respect yourself more. Don’t sell yourself short, you also deserve care and affection, just like everybody else,” I say, stroking his hand. “There is time and place for everything, of course, so if you want me to, I can treat you differently, but I don’t want to see how you look down on yourself all the time.”

Julian’s lips stretch into a wide sincere smile and he looks at me with all the warmth that a single person can hold.

“I am such a fool, even the manifestation of you I have in my mind is much smarter,” he says quietly.

I look at him questioningly, not understanding what he is trying to say.

“This single dream is the best and most useful one I have had in years. Now that you’ve opened my eyes... I will not make the same mistake when I wake up and meet the real you again, my darling,” he says and lovingly strokes the side of my face.

“Julian…” I begin, not even knowing how to approach this, “you do know that this is me, don’t you? I am not something you made up in your sleep, this is actually me.”

I watch his eyes that were so calm moments ago become wide again and slide closer to him. The last thing I want is for him to have a breakdown because of me.

“I am… the worst,” he simply says and sighs.

“That’s not true,” I object and kiss him softly on the lips. He returns my kiss with triple the force, and I feel like I’m melting under his touch.

All of a sudden, a big heavy droplet lands right on my nose and, disappointed, I am forced to open my eyes. Soon, many more of them follow, and before we know it, we are both sitting soaking wet under a tree that has absolutely no means to protect us from the rain.

I am worried for Julian so I look him up and down to make sure he is alright. I notice his now half-transparent shirt sticking to the skin on his chest and his shoulder and hastily look away, but he has followed my gaze and is already grinning at me again.

“We should seek shelter,” I say, trying to shout above the storm that is starting, and help him up from the ground.

“Agreed, I am not a fan of drenching in the rain, even if this is a dream. Come on,” he says and confidently wraps his hand around my waist, “I know just the place for us to hide.”

Soon the rain turns into a downpour and we have to run for our lives to avoid its stinging heavy droplets almost bruising our skin. The place is magical, after all, and so is the rain, so it’s much more unpleasant than any other rain I’ve ever experienced. I suspect that the place is in such a state of gloom precisely because of how Julian feels but I keep it to myself and follow his lead. Even while running, he holds my hand tight and turns around every minute or so to make sure I am fine and able to continue going.

I trust Julian to choose the path among identically looking withered trees the branches of which are interwoven with different sorts of creeping plants. My trust pays off when we arrive at a cave entranced which is carefully tucked away behind tall dry bushes. I definitely wouldn’t have noticed it if I were to look for shelter on my own.

The cave is rather small, there’s barely enough room for it hold two people and an impromptu campfire, but we manage. Most of the twigs we are able to gather are completely wet, so I have to use a bit of magic for the sparks to finally start the fire. Julian is ecstatic about what my magic can do while I am silently thanking Asra for teaching me this trick right in time for me to be able to use it now.

Being able to catch our breath in the modest sanctuary provided by the cave, we relax a bit and ponder over what we can possibly do here with such limited possibilities.

I sneakily peer at Julian to make sure he is okay (or so I tell myself at least). He’s in a better condition than I expected, breathing deeply and with his cheeks pink from running, but still drenched to the bone. I cannot help but lower my gaze a bit and notice that his shirt is now sticking all over his upper body, contouring every muscle.

It goes without saying that he immediately catches my glance and reveals his teeth in a predatory grin. I must’ve been gawking at him for too long. It makes me feel embarrassed so I shift my gaze to the fire before me.

“Oh, no need to be so shy, after all, my view here is not much worse than yours,” cackles Julian and slides closer to me.

I doubt his words, remembering that I am also wearing a travelling cape given to me by Asra on one of the holidays we celebrated together in our shop.

It suddenly dawns on me that I actually know the spell that can dry our clothes so I think about using it to help out Julian, but then hesitate. He doesn’t seem like he really needs it now and I am somehow amused by the idea of him staying the way he is.

“How are you feeling? Want me to dry your clothes?” I ask to get rid of the pricks of my conscience.

“No, I don’t think so,” predictably says Julian. “I haven’t felt this good in a while, actually. What about you?”

“I am… fine,” I say. I really am fine but feel hesitant about saying it because it seems to me that he wanted to hear something else instead.

Julian pouts and only nods silently to my reply.

Not knowing what to do, I take off my cape and wrap it around his shoulders to make sure at least the exposed areas of his skin are covered with soft cloth. It makes absolutely no sense since we’re still in a dream and I have a dozen other ways to help him if he wanted me to, but it just feels like the right thing to do.

His smile softens somehow and I see the tips of his ears, which are sticking out from his wet auburn hair, growing red.

“Come here,” he says and motions me to come sit on his lap.

I oblige and soon lean my back against his chest with his long legs resting on my sides. He lets his slender fingers slide into my hair, combing it and scratching the delicate skin on the back of my neck. It’s a very calming and pleasant feeling, so I close my eyes and let myself get some rest.

“You know…” I start, feeling that I simply have to say it.

“Mm?” he mutters, preoccupied with my hair.

“That… what you did… wasn’t so bad,” I say shyly, hoping he will still understand even with me sparing him the details.

Julian’s fingers stop moving and he tilts his head to take a cautious look at my face. Before he can come up with any ludicrous remarks on the topic, I hurry to elaborate.

“Well... it’s you, so I know you’ll never hurt me or… And I’ll also never really hurt you, so… You know… You understand, don’t you?” I ask pleadingly. This turns out to be much harder than I expected. “Sometimes I’m just not in the mood and I want to be gentle with you. You deserve it.”

“I do?” he only asks.

“Change my mind,” I reply playfully, thinking that I will most likely regret it later.

I hear him chuckle and a second later feel his teeth carefully nibble at the base of my neck a few times. It tickles more than it hurts so I follow the reflex and tilt my head back to make him stop.

“If I do, will I ever be able to change it back?” he asks curiously, slides his arms in front of me to hug me and begins to trace circles on my stomach.

“With enough effort, everything’s possible,” I say, positioning my body a bit lower to rest my head on his chest.

“That’s good to know.”

#The Arcana #Arcana #fiction #fanfiction #Julian #julian devorak #Julian x reader #julian romance #romance #pov first person #hurt/comfort #fluff #Dream Sequence Trilogy

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jcmorrigan · 4 years ago

Note

Blakeworther,,,but college

OKAY. I SAW THIS LAST NIGHT AND WAS THINKING ALL THROUGH LAST NIGHT AND THIS MORNING BECAUSE THIS HAD TO BE GOOD

Blakeworther: ORIGINS (hopefully actually canon-compliant?)

-Vincent didn’t want a roommate. But RMU has a policy that unless a first-year has an extreme medical condition that requires them to room alone, they have to double up due to high attendance rates vs. limited dorm space. So unfortunately, Vincent needs to stay in the same room as this “Victor Blake” person he’s never met before and probably won’t like.

-He opens the door to their room on the first day. Victor is already there, decorating his half of the room. And you think Victor is a flirt nowadays? This is a Victor straight out of high school, with lingering teenage hormones. He takes one look at Vincent, gives him a coy smile, and just goes “Hello, beautiful.” And winks.

-Vincent goes “Don’t talk to me” and starts setting up his side of the room.

-Well, that’s rude. Victor tries to engage in conversation a couple more times, but Vincent makes it clear he is NOT HAVING IT, so Victor eventually gives up and pouts. (Vincent really is pretty. But more importantly than that, Victor kind of wanted his roommate to be his friend. That seems like a requirement for the college experience.)

-Oh, well. If they can put up with each other for one (1) year, they can request new roommates for their second year.

-Vincent sets off for his 8 a.m. on the first day. Psychology 101. He gets going at about 7 because he NEEDS to make a statement by getting there first. Back in high school, he was valedictorian, and he must continue to show people how classy, smart, and punctual he is.

-He arrives at the classroom. Seemingly empty. He strides through the door -

-The next thing he knows, he’s on the floor. Someone has screamed. He thinks it’s him. He’s disheveled, his books scattered. What just happened?

-After assessing the situation and going over the split-second incident that is retroactively gelling in his memory, he realizes that he walked through that door, and somebody who was waiting on the other side of the wall, just around the corner and out of sight, leapt out and JUMPSCARED him the moment he walked in.

-He looks up at the perpetrator who stands above him, giggling his ass off. This asshole is wearing a bright pink shirt and he’s admittedly kinda cute but also this was unforgivable.

-Victor: “What the HELL was that for?” Pink Shirt Man: “I knew someone would come along who thought they were first, and I wanted to make it clear this is my territory. I was here for fifteen minutes before you.” Vincent: “Why the HELL were you waiting here for fifteen minutes - “

-He makes a point of gathering up his books VERY ANGRILY and stomping to the furthest corner of the classroom to sit as far away from Pink Shirt as possible. Then glares at him venomously.

-So. A word on Albert. He grew up an only child with very few friends. He’s got a roommate too, but the guy’s an introvert in dark glasses who barely talks, spends like all his time watching anime, and is visibly just scared of Albert. So that friendship is out the window.

-(Yes. It’s Winston. He has not had an easy life.)

-This leaves Albert, who has no idea how to appropriately interact with people but has way too much pent-up energy, trying to figure out how to get people’s attention so he can make friends. But when I say he has no idea, I mean he has NO idea.

-So he sits down in the front row where his stuff was previously and just turns and STARES AT VINCENT until the rest of the class files in. Vincent keeps his eyes turned anywhere but at this Pink Shirt Creep because who stares at somebody over their shoulder for ten solid minutes?

-Albert chalks this up as a victory. Sure, this dude hates him, but that’s more attention than he was getting before!

-For the rest of the class, Vincent is hoping they can just move on and have a normal day in which he knocks every question fired his way out of the park. But that’s not what happens. What happens is this PINK SHIRT ASSHOLE in the front row keeps answering questions without being called on, and not even seriously. With the most MORBID sense of humor.

-Prof: “What are the three ways to study the brain?” Albert: “Smash open the test subject’s skull, rip it out, and have fun.”

-Vincent KNEW the answer was “lesion, stimulation, recording” and he’s so mad.

-He leaves this class grumpy.

-He’s on an alternating schedule, so block A of classes one day, block B the next. His next classes for A day go well and he gets to show off a fair bit of his intellect. But then the last class of block B and it’s art.

-Guess who’s there? Not Victor, unfortunately!

-Vincent walks in the door and THE PINK SHIRT ASSHOLE is there and Albert just waves at him “Hello” and Vincent is in hell.

-Same thing. Albert spends the whole class being obnoxious and annoying, but in a way that gets the other students to laugh. And Vincent just stews.

-Over the next few days, Vincent spends a lot of study time in his room rather than in the library because it’s quieter. Victor respects that Vincent will complain if there’s too much noise and so wears headphones when he’s working because he likes music in the background.

-One day, he accidentally rips the headphone jack out of the laptop and the song he was listening to blares over the dorm. He fixes the volume, already going, “Well, sor-ry for the accident - “

-Vincent: “Actually, I like that song. Have you listened to the album or do you just like it as a standalone?”

-Victor: “I...I saw them in concert, actually.”

-They have the first real conversation they’ve ever had since they moved in together because they ended up liking the same song. And they’re happy to be talking about it. This is good! Maybe they can be friends after all!

-First exam in Psych 101. Vincent feels pretty confident. This is a test he didn’t really put too much effort into studying for because he’s confident he memorized everything from high school. Well...as it turns out, he didn’t. But he fudges it as best he can, sure he’s at least doing better than the simpletons of the class. He’s the only one who takes this seriously, after all.

-Exam results come back, and the prof reveals that he’s graded on a curve. One student and one alone got a 95% on the exam; the rest failed horrendously.

-Vincent is about to rest on his laurels when the prof says “And that person is Albert Krueger.”

-Who the hell is -

-PINK SHIRT ASSHOLE stands up and bows playfully.

-Vincent now has a name for his nemesis. ALBERT KRUEGER. He’ll remember that and not be happy about it.

-So he’s chatting with Victor a lot more now as they hang out. Victor has a problem one day because one of his econ courses has a particularly picky prof who’s failed every single one of his essays to date, and he’s afraid he’s going to actually fail his favorite subject.

-Vincent takes a look at that prof’s notes. To his eyes, it’s easy to see what arbitrary hoops the prof wants Victor to jump through. It’s also easy to see that Victor actually is doing what’s asked of him and grasping the material; the prof just demands these extra trappings, probably as a power trip.

-Vincent knows exactly how to write the next paper to make it fit requirements. And so he says, “If you don’t have a problem with plagiarism, I can get the next one to pass.”

-Victor: “Well, don’t make it too perfect, or they’ll catch on.”

-Vincent writes Victor a solid B- of a paper. And it’s graded with the expected B-. Victor is SO thankful and calls Vincent a genius.

-About time someone around here did. Since it strokes his ego, Vincent offers to do any paper Victor wants for him, free of charge.

-Meanwhile! In art class, they’ve been assigned a midterm visual art project. Vincent can already tell that his piece is...good but not great. You know who’s making a fantastic landscape painting that everyone else in the studio ahhs at every day he works on it? AAAAAALBERT KRUEGER.

-Vincent is trying so hard not to explode.

-Vincent and Victor decide to eat lunch together because they like each other now. They head on down to the cafeteria, load up their plates with food, go to get the last two puddings on the shelf -

-Somebody takes the last two puddings.

-GUESS WHO?

-Albert: “I believe it is they who snooze who must lose.” He didn’t even want two puddings. But while people can get temporarily impressed with his prowess, annoying people is the only way he can REALLY get lasting attention. Most people go “Albert’s painting is so cool!” and leave. Vincent, though? Vincent keeps on making a SCENE out of it and Albert likes that. So he made sure neither Vincent nor Vincent’s friend could have any pudding.

-Vincent and Victor sit down, pudding-less. Victor: “Who was that guy?”

-Vincent explains the whole thing. He rambles for almost the whole lunch period about how much he HATES Albert. Culminating in how he knows that Albert’s art project is going to get highest marks and make Vincent’s look so much worse by its very existence.

-Victor: “You know...I have a plan, but it’s not entirely legal. If you want to get back at him, though...” Vincent: “I’m listening.”

-They break into the locked art studio after hours and RIP ALBERT’S PAINTING INTO SHREDS. That’s, like, twenty hours of work just gone. They leave no evidence.

-The following day, Albert approaches the two of them at lunch: “I know it was you. You can’t lie to me about this. From now on, we are at war. You, Vincent, are my mortal enemy. And you, Vincent’s accomplice, I know were talked into this by him, but you’re on the thinnest of ice.”

-Vincent’s fine with this. Victor thinks it’s funny and doesn’t own up to having come up with the idea.

-Anyway, Vincent and Victor start hanging out more, so when there’s a school dance, they decide to go together. Just as bros, not as PARTNERS what are you even - no. Platonic. Heheheheh

-And they have a good time dancing! Vincent doesn’t normally like this sort of thing, but Victor’s into it, so they’re cutting a rug.

-A small throng of students is gathered in the middle of the floor, watching some spectacle. Victor wants to see what’s going on. So he brings Vincent over.

-Everyone’s watching a particular student just absolutely breakdance with the greatest of skill. And GUESS WHO?

-Vincent enters RAGE MODE

-Victor: “Oh, no, here we go.” (Secretly thinking to himself that Albert did have some sexy moves indeed.)

-Vincent storms in and CHALLENGES ALBERT TO A DANCE-OFF. Albert accepts. Victor calls himself a third competitor so as not to be left out, and Vincent rules that either he or Victor winning will be a victory for Vincent.

-Well, Albert gains more applause by a LANDSLIDE. Vincent and Victor are good dancers, but Albert is FANTASTIC. Vincent complains the rest of the night and Victor’s just “Look, I know he was gorgeous and he got all the attention but please pay attention to me”

-Things continue like this until the next semester, when classes are shuffled and FINALLY Vincent is free of Albert.

-You know who walks in to find Albert just staring creepily at him from the front row of his first class? VICTOR.

-It’s Biology. Right away, the class gets a partner assignment, and the prof sticks Albert and Victor together.

-Might as well make the best of this.

-So they get to just awkwardly chatting. Victor tries to keep himself level-headed. Albert still doesn’t know it was Victor’s idea to destroy his painting. So they’re just playing it cool.

-And...it’s actually kind of fun to talk to one another?

-Albert lets slip that he likes bio a bit better than psych, but everyone’s expecting him to take up the position at Krueger Health Corp. Victor’s just like “So fuck ‘em. Switch majors.”

-Albert then blurts “Have you ever wanted to dismember someone who wronged you?”

-Victor: “Yes. All the time.”

-So for the first time, somebody is giving Albert attention that is NOT rivalry and is NOT just marveling at his talents and antics. This is new. He’s not sure how to handle it.

-For the rest of the semester, Victor is technically on Team Vincent, but he still waves at Albert when they pass on the grounds.

-Vincent and Victor go off campus to a house party with alcohol! Albert doesn’t actually show up to steal the spotlight this time. And...that kinda pisses Vincent off. Where IS he? He usually shows up to these things -

-Victor tells him to pleeeaaaase stop obsessing about Albert, please. (But Victor also kinda wishes he was there and isn’t sure why.)

-Later in the night, some beefy upperclassman starts a fight and threatens Vincent. Vincent and Victor are both buzzed and riled up. Victor jumps in and decks the guy to protect Vincent. The guy decks him right back and HARDER. So Vincent tackles the dude because now HE’S protecting Victor.

-They both end up in the hospital with broken bones. Roommates, again. And when they look at each other across their hospital room, they realize something has changed. That they now know they would defend each other to the death, and each has to repay the loyalty of the other. They’re in this for the long haul, and most certainly not going to request new roommates.

-They get their classwork shipped into the hospital and have some nice calm chats with each other, away from the buzz of student life.

-Albert, however, suddenly has his archnemesis and his lab partner both MISSING and it’s driving him insane. Where are they where are they where are they

-When they get released from the hospital and finally go back to campus, Albert has to refrain from RUNNING UP TO THEM AND HUGGING THEM BOTH. HIS LIFE HAD NO MEANING

-Instead he says “Pity. I’d’ve hoped that you’d die and be out of my hair.”

-Vincent and Victor can’t really admit how much he was the missing piece of their lives either.

-It’s gonna be a few interesting years at RMU.

#vincent edgeworth #victor blake #albert krueger #blakeworther #vincent the secret of myers #vtsom #therapy with dr. albert krueger #twdak

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ladylynse · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 5 of Forewarning [FF | AO3]

All Dipper knew was that there was something buried in some special thermos behind the shack; all Danny knew was that he had no idea how he’d gotten here.

Inspired by this artwork by @hashtag-art

(beginning | previous)

-|-

“Look, kid,” Stan said after taking a quick peek at his watch, “I need to get going, and you shouldn’t be working on any of this by yourself.” He nodded at the portal. Truth was, he didn’t want Danny touching it at all when he wasn’t around. “Safer for both of us if you keep your expertise on these things for when I’m around to hear what you’re saying. That sound good?”

Fortunately for Stan, the kid nodded. His next repetition of that proposal might’ve been a lot less careful and a lot more, well, direct. Not his usual method, not punching, not now that he knew at least part of this kid was human and still very much a kid and that the part that wasn’t could go right through his punches, but he’d learned enough from the kid to know the sort of thing that would work. Quite aside from the fact that Stan knew exactly how dangerous some of this stuff could be, he wasn’t going to risk thirty years of work being for nothing if something got changed when he wasn’t around to see it happen.

Of course, that was why he had to say this next part. And he couldn’t even be very subtle at it, since he was pretty sure subtle would go over the kid’s head. “I wanna protect my family,” he said. “That includes everyone you’ve met up there, and that includes protecting them from all of this.”

Dammit, the kid was pulling a face. “I’m not sure if you can.” His words were slow. Deliberate. “From what I can tell, when you finally get to the point where you turn this on…. It’s going to be obvious.”

Stan snorted. “Not more obvious than any of the other things that go on around here.” He might not like where things had been headed, but he could make this particular turn of the conversation work to his advantage if he picked the right words, and he was very good at doing that. Experience could be an effective teacher. “It’s not a coincidence you got the reaction you did. This place is called the Mystery Shack for a reason.”

“This place is tourist trap.”

“Not all of it. And every single person up there knows it.” Stan jabbed his thumb towards the ceiling. “You do, too.” Judging both by what he’d said and the way he was acting. Stan was not foolish enough to think that Danny was comfortable right now. “That book you mentioned earlier? Yeah, it might need updating, but you already know not all the info in it is wrong.” He saw Danny frown and kept going, adding on what he’d wanted to say in the first place. “Tell you what. You want to make sure the book the kids are looking at is accurate when it comes to you not planning on destroying all of us where we stand? Grab it and stash it down here. We can update it tonight.”

The kid rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know if stealing it is the best way to go.”

It was the best way for Stan, but all he really needed out of it were the missing pages of blueprints. The rest of the info in there might be useful, but it wasn’t immediately important. There was more than one way for him to get a look at those pages. “Then ask for it.” All he needed was for Dipper to pull that book out in his sight so he could ask to see it, even if he pretended it wasn’t important, or at least not nearly as important as it was….

“I don’t…. You were listening when I said they threatened to exorcise me, right? They probably already would’ve if they hadn’t been too busy asking me questions. They’re never going to hand that over to me when they don’t trust me.”

Oh, oh, that was getting dangerously close to so why don’t you just ask for it? territory, and Stan didn’t want to go there. “You give them much reason to trust you?”

Silence.

That’s what he’d thought.

“I’m keeping this a secret to protect all of them,” Stan said with a nod towards the portal. “You know how dangerous this is if they accidentally mess something up, and I’m not about to present them with Pandora’s Box.” There was enough truth in that to be believable; he could see the rueful agreement on Danny’s face. “You’re trying to protect yourself with your secrets, but that’s just putting you in danger. Wasn’t that why you came clean with me?”

It wasn’t the whole reason. Stan knew that. But it was part of the reason. It was reason enough.

Danny sighed. “Yeah, okay. You’re right. I’ll try to explain. I wouldn’t mind the backup, though. They act first and ask questions later.”

“Survival instinct. You don’t have to live here long to get it.”

“Gathering that,” the kid muttered, his eyes flicking over the hidden lab once more. Then, louder, “Fine. I’ll talk to them. But you’ll at least save me before they do anything drastic if it goes sideways, right?”

And back to the tricky part. He suspected that one of the reasons Dipper had never told him about the journal was that he made a big show about not believing in any of this. An effective show. “Just be yourself. No more tricks. Don’t know who you’re used to fooling, but we’re made of more skeptical stock out here.”

It wasn’t a promise, and narrowed eyes told him that had been noticed. After a heartbeat, though, the kid’s shoulders relaxed, and his suspicion drained away. “That’s one of the ways you’re trying to protect them, isn’t it? By not admitting how much you know.”

He hadn’t expected Danny to hit that particular nail on the head, at least not so quickly, but Stan grunted in affirmation anyway. The kid hadn’t argued, which meant he’d seen the point of it, even if he hadn’t realized the breadth of Stan’s motives behind that choice.

“I get that,” he whispered. “I’m doing something similar. Sometimes the…. Sometimes the truth hurts, y’know? And it’s just easier to live the lie. Safer. For everyone.”

Practice was the only thing that kept the surprise off his face. For all of Danny’s rambling earlier, he’d neatly avoided alluding to that before.

“It isn’t always.” Stan was painfully aware of that. Sixer had realized it, too, before…before…. “Your situation isn’t the same as mine. Just because you think secrecy is the right choice for everyone else and not just you, doesn’t mean it is, and you shouldn’t assume as much simply because it’s more convenient for you.” Rich words, maybe, coming from him, but the kid had no idea of how much of his life was a lie.

He had no idea it went far beyond a secret lab, a reverse engineered portal, and a determination to fix his mistakes.

“Maybe.” It was clear that Danny didn’t want to talk about it. That suited Stan just fine. He didn’t want to keep talking about this, either. “I need to get home before I get to worry about that, though.”

Stan wouldn’t mind having words with the being that had put Danny in this situation, and not just because he suspected it might give him some insight about his brother if said being happened to be in a talkative mood. The ghost—if the thing really was a ghost like Danny claimed and the kid wasn’t wrong about that—sounded like he could use a knuckle sandwich to go with said words, and Stan wouldn’t have a problem serving that up.

“Then I’ll see you back here tonight.”

“No. I…. I’ll see you before that. Because you’re right. I need to explain myself. You might not be the only one I’m supposed to help.”

Stan wasn’t entirely convinced the kid was really supposed to help anyone. Manipulative beings came in all sorts, and they were usually smart enough to have agendas that either aligned with what you seemed to need to do anyway or were just plain impossible to realize until it was too late to turn back. Saying that wouldn’t help the kid, though, so Stan just nodded. “You head up first. I’ll catch up.”

-|-

Dipper had decided to chop some wood, thinking—among other things—that Wendy might see what he’d accomplished and tell him he’d done a good job of it.

The problem was, even he knew he wasn’t doing a good job, and there was very little chance of him turning it into a good job by the time she saw it.

So far, he’d accumulated a small pile of interesting wedges on the ground and what felt like the beginning of three blisters, two on his right hand and one on the left. He was sore and hot and sweaty, despite ditching his vest and using it to cover up the journal. He was getting better, though. Marginally. Maybe.

Dipper took a deep breath, judged the angle, and then swung. The axe hit true, biting into the dead centre of the block of wood he was trying to split with a satisfying thunk. And then it stuck there.

What should have been a great feat had come to failure in time to be witnessed by his sister.

“Just hit the ground like you’re playing whack-a-mole,” Mabel suggested as she dumped a handful of sticks into the box of kindling that would eventually make its way over to the fire pit. “That’s gotta be easier than yanking it out.”

“Safer, too, probably,” Dipper agreed, but Mabel was standing there and watching him now, and it wasn’t working fast enough. At least, two more solid whacks hadn’t split it. He tried to swing harder and managed to catch the edge of the wood block on the ground, tilting it but not loosening it entirely—nor, notably, splitting the wood in half.

“I could try,” offered Mabel, but Dipper shook his head.

“I can do this.”

“We might not need it, anyway. Soos split some earlier.”

“It’s always good to have extra.”

“Suit yourself, bro-bro.”

Dipper assumed Mabel would head back out to gather more deadwood, but she just stood there and picked stray bits of bark out of her sweater. He gave up trying to split the wood block—or straighten it out on the axe; he wasn’t picky at the moment—and instead let his aching arms rest. “What’s bothering you? The phantom, or whatever he really is?” It was safe enough for them to talk; Grunkle Stan and Wendy had gone into town, and Soos was touching up the window frames with a fresh coat of paint. Not that Dipper wouldn’t have had this conversation right now if Soos were in earshot, since he trusted Soos, but if Phantom did decide to pull some tricks, it wasn’t smart to give him leverage.

In Dipper’s limited experience of ghosts, they were happy to use things and people you cared about against you.

Not finding more bits of bark in her sweater, Mabel began tracing circles on the ground with her the toe of her shoe. “I know you’re worried about this,” she said slowly, “and what it said in the journal—”

“I don’t even know everything the journal says. That’s what worries me.”

“But I don’t think Phantom is that bad. I mean, he hasn’t attacked us, even when we split up.” They hadn’t split up far, true—she’d stuck close, well within screaming distance and maybe even his sprinting distance, after their summer so far—but Dipper had thought that might coax Phantom out into the open again. It hadn’t, but Phantom not falling for it didn’t mean Mabel was right.

“He’s not like Mermando. It’s not just a stroke of bad luck that he’s here. He was trapped in that thermos. It can’t have been because he’s nice.”

Mabel stuck out her tongue at him. “Then why’d you open it?”

“Because I didn’t think ‘something stuck in some special thermos’ meant ‘secret containment of something that can kill you more easily than everything else in this journal and is freakily good at pretending to be human.’ I thought it was going to be a note!”

“You mean you thought it was going to tell you who the author was.”

Dipper sighed and sat down, shifting as a wood chip dug into his leg. “I thought it might be a clue to his identity,” he admitted, “or hints about the other journals. We don’t know anything about them.”

Mabel dropped down beside him and started pulling out blades of grass. “What if Phantom is right and we—you—need to forget about the author? Before we get in over our heads?”

“You know I can’t just forget about this. It’s…. There’s so much here. I can’t just walk away and pretend I didn’t see any of it. I just…. I can’t.”

Mabel nodded as if she hadn’t expected him to say anything else. “I think Danny—Phantom—whoever—came back earlier.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” He scrambled to his feet and glanced at the shack, which looked exactly as it had the last time he’d looked at it. The runes must be holding up. “How long ago?”

“When Wendy sent us outside. And I didn’t tell you because we’d already drawn all that warding stuff. And because I don’t think he’s as bad as you think he is.”

“You can’t risk everything just because you think he’s cute!”

“I’m not! If he wanted to hurt us, he could have. You know that. I think he’s looking for something. If we help him, he’ll be able to go home and everything will be fine.” She tossed bits of shredded grass aside. “Sit down. Please?” Dipper sighed and sat down, so she continued, “You know not everything in the book is dangerous. And you don’t know that he’s dangerous; you’re just assuming that because you don’t know what the book really says.”

“His section is in a special code. What am I supposed to think?”

“The section about him. Not the section telling you how to find him.”

Dipper stared at her for a few heartbeats. “You really don’t think the author wrote that part, do you?”

“Is the handwriting the same?”

“It’s similar enough. The code is more symbols than letters, anyway.”

“Maybe it’s a message for Phantom then, not whoever finds him.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“He knows time travel is real, and he knows someone around here has done it. That’s not something people randomly guess.”

It didn’t mean he was innocent, either, but Mabel had already made up her mind. It was like she’d forgotten the last time someone supposedly completely innocent and pretending to be human had turned up in their lives, which had already happened more times than Dipper would have thought possible before this summer. Sure, there was a chance she was right, but if Phantom didn’t have some nefarious plan, why masquerade as a human? Had he honestly thought they wouldn’t see through it?

“Okay,” Dipper said slowly. “Let’s assume our warding in working. If he still came back and hasn’t shown himself to us, then he’s looking for something, and he thinks it’s hidden inside.”

“And he doesn’t think we have it or he would’ve been more subtle.” Mabel wrinkled her nose. “He was knocking on walls and the floor and stuff, like he thought something would be hollowed out.”

“He thinks Grunkle Stan is storing something under the floorboards?” No, that couldn’t be right. Grunkle Stan wouldn’t have stashed anything useful for a ghost. “He thinks the author did? Maybe he does know about the journals and just didn’t want to tell us. Maybe he thinks the first one is hidden inside!”

“Or maybe I was wrong and he does think we have it and he’s trying to scare us into moving it.”

“You don’t think he’d try torturing us or something like a normal phantom of pain?”

Mabel shrugged. “He really doesn’t act like the other ghosts.”

No, he didn’t, which didn’t sit well with Dipper. Did he claim to be a phantom to throw them off the scent? It couldn’t be to try to intimidate them—from what Dipper had seen, he could’ve impersonated a category ten if that were the case—so maybe it was meant to mislead them, to keep them too preoccupied to realize the truth.

It was working.

Dipper huffed. “I know you want to trust him. Fine. I can’t, not until I get some answers.”

“Then let’s get some answers.”

“Summoning him again won’t exactly make him want to tell us anything,” Dipper said with a grimace.

“Talking to him might,” Mabel said, her gaze fixing on something over his shoulder.

Dipper swallowed and turned. It was Phantom all right, back as Danny Fenton. He was coming from the right direction, walking in from the path that led towards town, but Mabel wouldn’t have been wrong about earlier, which meant he was deliberately trying to be sneaky. Great. At least he wasn’t that good at it, judging by his attempts to play off Fenton as just a friend earlier.

“You see if you can get the axe free,” Dipper muttered, picking up a stick that was meant to be kindling for later. “I’m going to see how far I can get on a protective circle before he gets here.”

-|-

Soos stepped back and eyed his handiwork. It wasn’t his best. It wasn’t as good as he’d like. The salt had made the paint clumpier than he was used to, but Wendy had been right about it being a good starting point. If they weren’t sure exactly what they were dealing with but it seemed ghost-like, salting the thresholds without being too obvious about it was a good start.

He’d spent the last twenty minutes going over the door and window frames. He should probably find an excuse to go on the roof and do something around the chimney, though not with the paint colour he had. That would be too obvious on the shingles, and not drawing attention to what he was doing was preferable.

He still thought the kids should know right now, but Wendy had a point. Dipper wouldn’t be able to resist getting involved, and he’d think it was his job to save them all. If they could get a few preventative measures in place before the kids knew all the details—and, preferably, if he and Wendy could get a better idea of what those details were first—then maybe there wouldn’t be any more saving left to do.

Just because Wendy didn’t trust this not-quite-a-ghost, didn’t meant it was actually out to get them. Soos liked being an optimist. You needed to be, sometimes, to get through what life tossed at you. It could hurt—he wouldn’t deny that—but he figured it was better to hope than to just give in to doom and gloom and despair.

Ghost stories after marshmallows, Wendy had said. Marshmallows wouldn’t be the only thing she was getting in town, but Soos wasn’t sure how they were supposed to fight an unknown entity. If they didn’t know what it was, there were only so many general things they could try before they ran out of ways to stop it. They had enough things around here already if something needed to be set on fire, but if it required something weirdly specific, like holy oil? That wasn’t something you could just pick up from the grocery store.

All right, so maybe that’s another reason Soos wanted to tell the kids sooner rather than later. Even if Stan didn’t believe in all this, they did, and Dipper’s book clearly had some information in it. They’d be more than willing to sell this whole thing as a gimmick to their grunkle, too. Well. They might try to convince him it was all real first. Then they’d settle for selling it as a gimmick.

Another coat of lumpy salt paint wasn’t going to improve matters right now, so Soos scraped the remaining paint into a can he could seal and store for later and set about washing out the bucket and brush. He could grab his hammer and nail down a few loose shingles on the roof. That would give him a good reason to be up there. Maybe he could mix some salt with glue and then hammer down some shingles on top of that. It might last a little longer. It might last long enough, which was all that really mattered right now.

Soos was swapping supplies in the toolshed when he heard the crunch of gravel underfoot. No roar of an engine or whine of the golf cart, but the kids had been out in the other direction when he’d left them. He stuck his head outside, waving at a teen who had stopped awkwardly in the driveway at his appearance. With Stan out, he was filling in for Mr. Mystery, so he put the tools back down on the bench and stepped out to give the kid a proper greeting.

Customer from town, probably, though it was odd that he’d come this late, so close to closing.

And alone.

“Welcome to the Mystery Shack!” Soos started, but the boy stepped back and held up both hands.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, “but I’m, uh, not here for the tour. I had it earlier this afternoon.”

Funny. Soos had been working outside most of the afternoon because it had been slow. He didn’t remember seeing this kid. He didn’t remember any customers since that one car had come in this morning, to be honest, and that couple had only had a disgruntled daughter with them.

“Um. I was actually hoping to talk to Dipper and Mabel? If they’re around?”

Dipper and Mabel hadn’t mentioned anything, but it’s not like Soos had quizzed them as they’d skipped by to start gathering wood.

Still.

This boy was a tourist. Coming from town. Without parents. Soos didn’t know too many teens who would make that walk; even most of the locals preferred to drive it, since people tended to consider it just this side of too long to be comfortable, and none of them would have to worry about getting lost.

“They might be about,” Soos said carefully, but the boy was already looking around, and it wouldn’t be long before— Yes. He’d spotted them. Raised his hand in a wave. No welcoming shouts back, so not someone the twins considered a good friend, not yet, but no clear signs of confusion, either, at least not as far as Soos could tell. The boy mumbled some excuse to Soos and jogged around him, and Soos let him go.

The hair on the back of his neck was still standing, though.

Keeping one ear pointed towards the kids, just in case, Soos kept his head down and started to walk the driveway. They’d gotten a load of gravel in recently, and he’d spent an evening raking it down just the other day. It hadn’t had much traffic on it yet, just the occasional car—including Stan’s—and the golf cart. No rain since it had been dumped, either. Far more of it was loose than ground into the road, which made it an easy enough thing to follow the boy’s footprints.

Right up to the point where the trail stopped.

In the middle of the loose gravel.

No skidding to indicate that the boy had jumped from the side of the road, and no path worn enough in the road yet to hide his tracks. It was as if he’d just dropped down out of the sky and started walking in. Soos turned to look back towards the Mystery Shack, frowning. The sight lines would’ve been fine when there were fewer leaves on the trees, but as it was, the road jogged just enough for the foliage to obscure this part, and Soos didn’t need to look in the other direction to know how the road curved.

As far as Soos knew, a ghost wouldn’t have left any tracks like this, but Wendy had said this whatever-it-was wasn’t a ghost.

Wendy had also wanted to keep the kids out of it, but from what Soos had just seen, the kids were already up to their necks in it. The boy had known their names, and they must have known him, even if they hadn’t yet realized what he was.

So much for a boring summer holiday. Those two didn’t joke about being the Mystery Twins for nothing. Despite Wendy’s best efforts, they were getting sucked into every black hole of a mystery that existed in Gravity Falls.

Well, if that’s the way it was, then the least Soos could do was see if they needed anything.

(see more fics | next)

#gravity falls #danny phantom #phantom falls #crossover #fanfiction #my writing #ladylynse #snippets #dp snippet #gf snippet #crossover snippet

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unhinged-summer-fun · 3 years ago

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wip-date

yeah whatever portmanteaus make me feel something other than manic depression

i know i've been pretty gogogo on mesh network (a lie, but one i tell myself so it's true) but I do want to make some headway into my other WIPs. so here's where i'm at.

Top Priority

mesh network - almost finished with ch3, should be up today. i've got most of the story fleshed out in outline form (skeletoned out?) and i've been thinking of this AU for two years straight so it's coming pretty naturally to me.

30 for 300 follower celebration - there's only 4 of 30 slots taken so far. but i'm gonna get on those soon. still gotta make a masterlist for it. [adds to todoist]

belated af birthday fic for lellow - it's over 6.7k right now, but the latter half is super montagey and i'm trying to ramp myself up into being a story glider again. feel like a terrible friend, it's been four months.

Middling Priority

TBAD - chapter 7 is started (like around 3k rn) but I'm still feeling kind of directionless with the series as a whole. paranoid evil depression brain says i bit off more than I could chew. may do a reread once birthday fic is done to ~rekindle the love~

triptych - I have all of four paragraphs written for chapter 8. the end of the previous chapter kind of fucked up the initial timeline i'd had for this act of the story. i think i'm seeing a bit of a pattern with me avoiding writing smut lol.

art of second place - outline made, ch9 not started. it's a bit faster paced/covers a lot more time than previous chapters, so it's kind of outside of my current writing style. this chapter ends with the beloathed Plot returning. could be the reason for the block.

slut djarin - kinda lost in the weeds for ch7. there's two huge monologues in it, one of which will have a lot of hilarious wild smut, there's an orgy planned, and then a lot of plot happens which isn't really the point of the fic. thinking of starting from scratch and doing it kind of how i did the first three chapters (writing while watching, pausing to get lines correct, tedious but keeps me in the moment)

(other account) tusken din - whoo boy. where this current book (2 of 4) is sitting at, it's at over 26k and we aren't even like officially halfway through the season itself. this one's supposed to be a romance but it's really more of a solid coming of age tale. may pull back and revise from on high, or i might just try powering through to the very end. the document is very long and very intimidating.

collab with katee - still in outline mode, we're both very busy with very amazing and indulgent stories so i get it, but I wanna put some kind of oomph toward it. perhaps this weekend if i'm not too worn out.

Low Priority/On Hold

flicker 2 - max is on a business trip from his usual job of being my muse. also i don't really wanna write anxiety that's not mesh network

flicker 3 - this has three words in the outline: "the collaring one" and again (see above) smut issues

mando!reader/civilian!din - issues with din's role. considering just leaning into the absurdity of it and making him go full y/n and be a medicmechanicbabysitterpilot who's never held a gun. i think playing with that game would be fun.

bobadinnec wingfic - premise mostly written, still a lot of emotional heavy lifting to hammer out.

catboy javi g - officially delegated to Things To Handle After 4/22

whiskey/psychic!ofc - i love you joey and i think of you every time i paint my nails blue i just cannot concentrate on this many things

slow burn din/reader - at this point it's just a twinkle in my eye but i think it has potential, if i can dedicate enough time/effort to it. at this point in my life, i cannot.

daddy frank castle - it's more of a personal character study of him rather than something i'd want to share. it's rough and messy and doesn't really have a reason for existing. if you'd like to see it anyway please let me know.

Misc Housekeeping

moreno tentacles - this one's 4k and ready to go but i have a blood pact with katee that is as yet unfulfilled so i shall respect my blood brother and hang onto this.

that's all! please submit more 30 for 300 drabble ideas!

#unhingery

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edie-k · 4 years ago

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Living Legend (R/Hr, PG-13)

Title: Living Legend

Summary: Harry confronts his legacy as The Boy Who Blocked

Pairing: Ron/Hermione

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Not mine; just having some not for profit fun.

So, based off discussion of this awesome piece of art shared on the Romione Discord, I wrote this fic. It started as very tongue in cheek idea and ended with some heart.

Harry entered the crowded pub and glanced around. He’d been held up almost an hour completing paperwork at the Ministry so he expected he was the last one to arrive. It didn’t take long for him to focus on the boisterous group in the back and he made his way towards the table with a grin.

“Hey, there he is!” said George, with a raise of his glass and assorted greetings joined in from the rest of the group.

“Oi, thank God, you’re here Harry,” said Seamus. “These two,” he said, gesturing at Ron and Hermione, “are getting gross.”

Hermione gave an indignant snort and Ron glared at Seamus but he was smirking. Harry laughed as he dropped into the empty seat next to Ginny and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He glanced around the table at the crew - George, Angelina, and Luna were already seated at the other end and Dean was plopping down on the other side of Ron, next to Parvati. There was still an empty seat with a half drank glass in front of it and glancing around the room, he spotted Neville at the bar. He gratefully accepted the mug his girlfriend had slid in front of him. “And what do you expect me to do about the two of them?” he asked, as he took a swig of his drink.

“Break out some of that cockblocking magic you’re famous for,” said Seamus. The entire table burst into laughter. Harry was so shocked that he momentarily choked.

“Honestly Seamus!” said Hermione, although she looked much more amused by the comment than Harry would have expected.

“What in Merlin’s name are you talking about?” Harry asked.

“Do you not know what cockblocking is? The term seems pretty self explanatory but it’s when-”

“I know what it means, Seamus,” growled Harry.”I just don’t know what you mean.”

“I believe that’s his colorful way of talking about the fact that you were the main obstacle preventing Ron from progressing beyond friends with Hermione,” suggested Dean.

“Uh, in the name of gender equality, he was also the main obstacle preventing Hermione from making a move on Ron,” said Parvati. Dean tipped his drink in her direction in agreement.

“Human birth control, if you will,” suggested George.

“The opposite of an aphrodisiac for the two of them, if that’s a thing,” said Ginny. Harry gapped at her, startled by her comment.

“It is, it’s called an anaphrodisiac,” Hermione supplied.

“Oh, that’s interesting. What things are considered anaphrodisiac?” asked Angelina.

“Alcohol, right?” said Dean.

“Not in my experience,” said Seamus, wagging his eyebrows.

“That’s not what Cara Johnson told Padma,” said Parvati.

“Alcohol and tobacco and some other elements that go into pain relieving medications and potions. There was also recently a study around licorice of all things.”

“Red or black?” asked Neville, who had just returned from the bar with a fresh pitcher.

“Hmm,” said George thoughtfully. “Licorice wands but droopy. There’s a Wheeze in there somewhere.”

“Dabberblimps are also said to have an impact on sexual desire but I think that’s more due to the smell,” said Luna.

“No, wait! Wait, wait, wait, wait,” said Harry, completely aghast. “Are you all saying it took Ron and Hermione two years to get together and it was my fault?”

“Look, Harry, no one should be saying you were the main obstacle in it. Hermione and I certainly could have done more to rise above it,” said Ron in what he thought was a consoling tone.

“Honestly, everyone at this table could have done more,” said Neville, gesturing to the group who nodded in agreement.

“But it is fair to say that Harry carries most of the blame,” said Seamus.

“Outside of Ron and I,” Hermione clarified.

“This is unbelievable,” said Harry.

“Look, Hermione and I have talked about it and there’s no hard feelings. It all worked out in the end.”

“You’ve talked about this?!” Ron shrugged. “Hermione,” Harry turned to his friend with a pleading tone. “You are the most rational person I know. You can’t seriously agree with this?”

“I pluck up the courage to ask Ron out and you created as much noise as possible and practically threw a bowl across the room before I could clarify it was a date.”

“It was awkward!”

“Are you saying we’ve never done anything awkward for your sake?” Ron chuckled.

“No but… come on, it was obvious that was a date!”

“I told you I thought she asked me as a friend and you never said anything!”

“Wait,” said Angelina. “Harry, there was a misunderstanding between them that you knew about and you didn’t say anything to clear it up?”

“It was awkward!”

“Not only that,” said Hermione. “I asked him why Ron was angry with me so I could fix it and he knew why but he didn’t tell me.”

“It… was awkward,” said Harry weakly. “And! And! The reason Ron was angry with you was ridiculous. You had snogged Krum two year ago. I didn’t want to make him look stupid.”

“Yeah,” said Ron dryly. “You really kept me from looking like an idiot in sixth year. Cheers.”

“I’m sorry,” Parvati said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Are you saying that if you had one awkward conversation, we would have avoided the entire debacle that was Lavender and Ron?”

“Yes,” said Hermione.

“Pretty much,” said Ron.

Parvati turned to Harry. “Potter, there are hours, days, WEEKS of my life that I will never get back that I spent dealing with that nightmare.”

“What, do you think it was a picnic for me?!”

“No! That makes it worse!” cried Parvati.

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” exploded Harry. “Just go up to Hermione and say, ‘Ron is jealous as hell that you kissed Victor Krum You should go talk to him and get this sorted before Slughorn’s party’?”

“YES!” shouted the entire table.

Harry noticed that Ginny had joined the chorus and rounded on her. “What about you? You could have stepped in just as well as I could have!”

“I was mad at Ron and for good reason!” she retorted. “But yes, I could have done more. I’ll admit, part of it was that up until the point that you kissed me, I was a little worried that you were doing it because you had a thing for Hermione. I was worried that if I helped get the two of them together, you would totally spiral.”

“I thought that was why you were doing it too,” said Dean.

“You did?” said Ginny with a smile. “You never told me that. I guess we were pretty compatible back then.”

“Hey! Am I not getting dealt enough blows?” said Harry indignantly and the table laughed.

“Harry was never interested in Hermione,” said Luna with a tone of declaring the matter settled. “I did suspect he fancied Ron though.”

“Wha- okay, Luna, no,” Harry sputtered. “So I’m apparently responsible for the dumbest fight the two of you ever had but-”

“Not responsible for the fight but you showed a lack of accountability in resolving it,” clarified Hermione.

“Fine. So why didn’t you get together after Ron and Lavender broke up? You didn’t kiss until the final battle. How was that my fault?”

“Didn’t Ron tell us Harry tried to break up that kiss too with some sort of snide comment?” George said to Angelina.

“Snide comment?” Harry asked disbelievingly. “I reminded them that there was a war going on. THERE WAS LITERALLY A WAR GOING ON!”

“It was coming to a natural conclusion,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

“So that was really the first time you two kissed?” asked Dean. “Because when we uh, met up that spring, it seemed like something was going on.”

“Well, we certainly made some progress to understanding we were on the same page,” said Hermione. “But things were complicated.”

“It was miserable and it really would have been pretty awkward to start something with Harry around all the time,” said Ron.

“Good call,” said George. “After tonight, I think we all know that Harry’s boggart takes the form of awkward interactions.”

“At the point we found Dean and Luna, we both knew it was inevitable but we also had to finish helping Harry,” said Hermione.

“Plus, you want to talk cockblock? Harry has nothing on Griphook,” said Ron. Dean nodded sagely and Hermione wrinkled her nose in agreement.

“Finished helping me? You weren’t picking up my dry cleaning, we were saving the world!”

“Harry, you are taking this way too personally,” said Hermione. “We don’t think you were truly trying to keep us apart but your desire to stay out of our relationship and your mild self-absorption caused a lot of complications.”

“I don’t know why someone would take being called self absorbed personally,” George remarked and Ginny snorted.

“Hermione, you don’t get it. You’re letting him off the hook too easily because you’re a woman. A man does not prevent a friend from getting laid. It’s basically an Unbreakable Vow that’s entrenched in our DNA,” said Seamus.

“Ugh,” scoffed Parvati. “I honestly don’t know why we hang out with you.”

“No, really,” insisted Seamus. “Take tonight as an example. Dean and Neville. You two are solid mates, yeah?” Both men nodded. “Right, so Dean goes up to the bar to get a new pitcher. Who comes up to wait on him but Hannah Abbott. Suddenly, Neville needs a glass of water. And what happens next?”

Neville turned red. “I uh, I went up to the bar to ask Hannah for a glass while she was waiting on Dean.”

“And as soon as Neville appears and starts talking to Hannah, I gave him a nudge and say ‘I have to hit the head. Can you bring that back to the table?’”

Harry scoffed. “How does you sticking Neville with the tab help him?”

“You never did read that book I gave you, did you?” said Ron, incredulously.

“I didn’t take a piss, I came back to the table so Neville could chat up Hannah. And?”

Neville gave an embarrassed smile. “I’m taking her out tomorrow,” he admitted.

“Ha!” Seamus punched the air triumphantly. “One friend getting another friend laid. It’s beautiful.”

“It’s a first date,” Neville protested. “We’re not going to-”

“We’ll work on it,” Seamus assured him.

“Ron’s never tried to get me laid!” Harry shouted desperately. This comment was met with general revulsion.

“Whoa! Come on,” said Dean, his face contorted.

“That’s his sister,” said Neville.

“For fuck’s sake man,” said Seamus disgustedly. The idea that Seamus was disgusted with him made Harry even more defensive.

“Hermione is like my sister!” insisted Harry.

“To be fair to Ron and it pains me to do so,” said Ginny. “Ron really only got in our way that one time after we broke up and as pissed as I was at the time, I think it came from a genuinely good place.”

“And I had no idea you liked Ginny until you snogged her right in front of me!” said Ron.

“You never said anything about Hermione until we were in the woods!’

“Oh, Harry, really?” said Ginny with pity. “I don’t think that’s the way to go.”

“Yeah, okay, but - hey, what about that one time with Cho?” Harry said accusingly to Ron.

“I called Cho out for being a bandwagon fan one time when I was 15 and now I’m doomed to a life of interrupted shags,” Ron appealed to the room.

“You’re together now,” said Harry weakly.

“Despite your best efforts,” joked George.

“And yet you haven’t relinquished your title as The Boy Who Blocked,” said Ron.

“You do have extraordinarily bad timing,” said Hermione.

“Back to Seamus’s original point, you two are pretty gross.”

“I’m sorry, are you saying that I still am-”

“In a much more literal sense now,” said Ron. Hermione gave him a playful smack on the chest.

“Give me an example!” Harry insisted heatedly.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look that was familiar to Harry but he didn’t recognize. “Harry, it really isn’t a big deal,” said Hermione reassuringly.

“Well, last weekend, right?” said George. “At Shell Cottage for Fleur’s birthday. You wanted to get Ron so he could try those beignets Gabrielle brought and we told you they would be back soon but you insisted on walking down the beach and…”

“Yeah, and I found them past the alcove and - wait,” Harry stopped suddenly. “Is that why you were-?” Harry made a gesture too vague to interpret but Hermione squirmed in her chair and Ron inhaled sharply.

Harry’s jaw dropped. “And last month when Ginny and I were over to listen to the Cannons’ match and you were so weird when I came in the kitchen to see why the snacks were taking so long…and Thursday? Hermione is that why you…” He trailed off as Hermione bit her lip and looked away while Ron rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh my God,” said Harry incredulously.

“Harry, we’re so sorry if we made you uncomfortable,” said Hermione, sounding sincere for the first time all night.

“Oh my God!” Harry repeated louder, this time, disgusted.

“We were making up for lost time, which you have a part in,” Ron pointed out.

“Oh my God,” Harry said a third time, his tone full of realization.

“Are you okay Harry?” asked Ginny gently.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said distractedly. A quiet set over the group within the roaring pub.

“So Neville,” said Angelina in a voice full of forced cheer. “Where are you taking Hannah tomorrow?”

“Oh, you should take her to this great new place in Hogsmeade. Padma and I had lunch there last week and the dinner menu looks amazing,” Parvati said.

Harry looked glumly at his drink, barely noticing the glances his two best friends were exchanging.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Harry?” came a familiar voice from the fireplace.

It was the next morning. Ginny was off to practice and would be staying the evening with her team, as she did the day prior to every match. The standing tradition was that on these days, he had lunch with Ron and Hermione. As much as he loved Ginny and knew that Ron and Hermione did too, he liked having time as just the three of them.

But he had cancelled this morning, citing a hangover and crossed his fingers that Ron would be able to persuade Hermione to leave him be.

No such luck.

He heard a whoosh, followed by a second. “Harry?”

He sighed. “In here,” he called quietly from his armchair. Both of his friends popped around the corner. “Couldn’t hold her off?”

Ron sank into the chair across from him, threw his legs on the ottoman and grinned. “Actually, I didn’t even try.”

Hermione tapped Ron’s feet and he scooted them over to give her enough room to sit on the ottoman. “Harry, why are you avoiding us?”

“‘m not,” he mumbled. “Just drank too much last night.”

“You got there after everyone else so you missed the first two rounds of shots Seamus forced on us and I only saw you refill your glass once.”

Harry shrugged. “I had a couple drinks when I got home.”

“Look, we didn’t mean to upset you. Like Hermione said, we had a few before you got there and we were just having a go,” said Ron.

“Yeah but it was true,” said Harry sullenly.

“Well,” said Hermione, flattening her skirt nervously. “Yes, all of those things happened. But it was a long time ago. We’ve been together almost three years now. And we were certainly exaggerating a bit to have some fun. So there’s nothing for you to be upset about.”

Harry straightened up in his chair. “You don’t get it! Since I started at Hogwarts, you two have been the most important people in my life and you still are, plus Gin and Teddy. And you cared about me and you two always tried to do what you thought was going to help me and be best for me and last night I realized...I didn’t do that for you!”

“Harry, you know that’s not true!” said Hermione.

“Yes it is! I thought about how Cho and I couldn’t even look at each other anymore and I didn’t want that to happen to you two. It was always best when it was the three of us and I didn’t want anything to mess that. You were right, I was so self absorbed!”

“Harry,” said Ron, rolling his eyes.

“Of course you were,” said Hermione dismissively.

“Okay, now I am regretting letting you come over here,” said Ron.

“We all were!” she said, rolling her eyes. “Harry, Ron and I were so wrapped up in our own drama sixth year that we didn’t realize the depth of your fixation with Malfoy until you had practically murdered him!”

“Well, whose fault is that? There would have been no drama had I said something! And all our friends think I didn’t say something because I was in love with Hermione. I mean, you must have thought that too,” Harry said miserably, gesturing to Ron.

“I never really thought you were interested in Hermione but I was terrified Hermione would fall for you,” said Ron.

“What’s wrong with me that you didn’t think Harry would be interested?” said Hermione in a teasing tone that was clearly meant to lighten the mood, flicking Ron’s foot.

“Absolutely nothing. This git doesn’t know what he’s missing, thank God.”

Harry ignored them. “Had we cleared that up the year before, we could have avoided a few devastating weeks during the hunt, yeah?”

“Harry, there’s no way I’m letting you take responsibility for what the Horcrux said or for me leaving you two,” Ron said.

“We’re certainly not re-litigating any of that,” said Hermione. She turned and looked at Ron. “But when we were talking about all of this at home last night, we both agreed that once we were on the run, we made conscious decisions to not start anything until the war was complete.”

Ron nodded. “It’s true, I felt the same.”

“Great, I did it again,” Harry moaned. “You two were worried about me instead of enjoying your evening.”

“Harry, we still enjoyed our evening-”

“Twice,” interrupted Ron.

“But you’re our friend and we are always going to worry about you,” Hermione finished, paying Ron no mind. “It actually made me realize that we maybe could have had a relationship and taken care of you.”

Harry groaned.

“Harry, you took care of us too,” Ron said. “I mean, in the end, you didn’t want Hermione and I to stop being friends because you knew that would make us just as miserable as you. And you weren’t wrong. And I don’t know, maybe this was all just the way it was supposed to be. Maybe Hermione and I are better because we got all the petty shit out before we were together. Maybe the three of us are better friends because we focused on that for so long. So we’re okay, if you’re okay.”

Harry sat silently for a moment. “I’m going to try to be better about the .. you know, blocking. But seriously, I know we have a bit of a don’t ask, don’t tell on the subject but you could have clued me in,” Harry complained to Ron.

“Fair enough,” laughed Ron.

“Or you could not shag at parties.”

“Just… if you suddenly don’t see us, wait at least 10 minutes before you come and look for us,” suggested Hermione.

“Oi! 10 minutes?” said Ron, offended.

“Harry,” Hermione sighed. “It is apparently very important for you to know that Ron satisfies me sexually.”

“I assumed that once I figured out you were willing to do that for him there on Thursday,” Harry said.

Hermione blushed. “You’re making that sound much worse than it was. And you keep biting your tongue!” she finished, pulling her legs up and shifting back so she was sitting in the chair next to Ron.

“I didn’t say anything!” Ron said, although he looked very pleased with himself. “Now, can we please go get lunch?”

“All right, you two figure out where to eat. Give me 10 minutes and we’ll go,” Harry laughed, standing up from his chair.

“Harry, have you learned nothing? Make it 20,” said Ron.

#ROMIONE #fanfiction #fanfic #hp fanfic #romione fanfic #ron x hermione #ron weasley #hermione granger #trio friendship

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hadtochangemyurlquick · 4 years ago

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it’s work in progress wednesday so here’s a little goodfoe one shot that i can’t decide if i like and is mostly just me exploring leah and shelby’s relationship. also there’s some religion in there that i’m sure i fucked up.

Shelby doesn’t remember the dream, but she wakes to Toni’s arm thrown over her, reaching for Shelby’s phone as she attempts to hit the snooze alarm.

She spends most of the morning feeling queasy, a little nauseous, as Toni spends most of the morning exchanging grunts with her and muddling through coffee. It’s half past nine when Toni is awake enough, presses her arms around Shelby, kisses her neck. Toni’s arms have always, instinctively, made Shelby relax, like her body knows it’s safe.

Her skin feels like its falling off in awful flakes and she can barely breathe when she pushes Toni away.

“Um—”

“Would you give me some space? Jesus Christ, I can’t have a minute to myself?”

“Uh—” Toni reaches out a hand and Shelby finds herself in a corner, rock and a hard place, burning up.

“Don’t touch me!”

Toni flinches, “I just—”

Shelby pushes past her, eight steps to the bathroom in this tiny damned apartment, and upchucks in the toilet.

“Show me your ways, Lord, teach me your paths. Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.”

She is only spitting up bile now, Toni is calling her name. The door is locked.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.”

She’s trapped, she’s trapped, she’s trapped. She made the wrong choice, everything is falling apart, her skin is flaking off.

"But when he, the Spirit of truth, comes, he will guide you into all the truth. He will not speak on his own; he will speak only what he hears, and he will tell you what is yet to come.”

Shelby leans against the wall, closes her eyes as she feels her stomach gracefully settle, now empty. The bitter taste along her mouth lingers, and she doesn’t realize she’s praying.

“For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, for ever and ever.” And ever. And ever. And ever.

She is trapped here, and it’s ruined.

The pounding at the door has stopped, Shelby gets to her feet.

Toni almost falls through the door when Shelby opens it, her eyes are wide and red rimmed.

“I’m going out,” Shelby tells her. “Don’t follow me.”

“Shelby wait—”

The apartment is so small Toni doesn’t have time to finish her sentence before Shelby makes a jailbreak, she’s wearing house shoes, and it’s freezing outside but what should she expect it’s Minnesota?

God, what in the world is she doing in a tiny ass town in rural Minnesota?

Her skin is baked, she’s so hot, it’s flaking off, joining that mushy gray slush on the ground that Toni told her will stick around through March.

“Hey girl hey! You’re on speakerphone with Dot in the car, because I am driving because that is all you fuckin do in LA,” Fatin answered on the first ring.

“My skin is flaking off,” Shelby says. And then, to specify, “I can’t breathe and I’m dying and it’s too hot and I think my fingers are turning blue.”

“Hey, breathe with me okay, it’s going to be—”

Shelby hangs up.

The entire world is falling apart, she’s trapped and she’s nothing, and she’s going to die and die alone for ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and

“Hey,” Leah picks up on the fifth ring.

“Leah,” Shelby sobs, the name a prayer, a lifeline. “It’s ruined, everything is ruined, I’m trapped and my skin is flaking off and I’m dying and I can’t breathe and—and—and—and—”

Someone sobbing interrupts her and she’s relieved to realize it’s not Leah.

“Are you around anything sharp?” Leah asks.

Shelby blinks, she looks around, “No.”

“What about a body of water?”

“No.”

“Any motor ways?”

“Maybe a five minute walk?”

“Okay, are you sitting?”

Shelby nods, realizes Leah can’t see that, “Yes.”

“You need to stand up,” Shelby stands. “Stand in the opposite direction of the road, and start walking.” Shelby starts walking. “Your skin isn’t falling off, you aren’t dying, you’re breathing, nothing is ruined, you aren’t trapped.”

“My skin isn’t falling off, I’m not dying, I’m breathing, nothing is ruined, I’m not trapped.”

“Stop running,” Leah tells her and Shelby hadn’t realized she had started. “Nothing is chasing you.”

“Nothing is chasing me.”

She doesn’t believe the words but she and Leah have played this game before, the only way to win is by playing the game again, some different day.

“Did I wake you up? The time difference—I always forget.”

“No,” Leah says. “I haven’t slept since I got the restraining order.”

Shelby nods. “I want that man in prison for you, Leah.”

“I know you do.” And every time someone says something like that to her it always sounds like Leah comes a little closer to believing the sentiment herself.

Shelby is still walking, she might walk until her feet hurt, or her bad ankle feels like it wants to fall off.

“Was it a nightmare?” Leah asks.

“You know I still pray,” Shelby says. “I prayed so often for so long it’s like—it’s instinct, it’s like my brain just goes there when I’m struggling like a reflex. Only sometimes I’ll be praying and repeating the words and I don’t even believe them. And I’m just sitting there in my prayer wondering where the hell I go from here. Maybe I do go to hell.”

Leah hums.

“I don’t think I’m okay, Leah,” Shelby confides. “I still felt safer than I ever have on that damn island.”

“I hate my therapist, I hate that it’s working, that I don’t obsess over things in the same way, that I can feel myself changing and I’m afraid of this new person. At least I knew who I was on the island.”

“That’s not who you are,” Shelby argues. “This is who you are. This person, who I’m talking to right now.”

Leah is quiet for a long time, she always is. She always plans her words a million years in advance, especially during these calls.

“Do you really feel trapped?”

Shelby wants to cry again, “No.”

“What do you feel?”

“Like I’m on the edge of a cliff and I don’t know which side is solid ground.”

“Was it a nightmare?” Leah asks again, because neither let the other get away with anything for very long.

“I think so.”

“You’re not gonna die if you fall off the cliff,” Leah tells her. Shelby swallows hard. “I’m telling the truth.”

“You promise?”

“Train wrecks unite,” Leah tells her. “Now call Toni.”

She hangs up, and Shelby opens her phone to a million missed calls from everyone. She blocks them all and calls Toni.

“Hey,” Her voice is breathless. “Where are you?”

Shelby looks around, “I don’t—” her voice breaks, she tries to muffle a sob, “Toni, I don’t know.”

“That’s okay, hey that’s okay. I’m coming. I’m coming.”

Toni keeps talking to her as Shelby hears her leave the apartment, start the pickup they bought from Martha’s mom for cheap, drive down that old highway with the potholes from the winter the city refuses to acknowledge. There’s some breaking of branches, before Toni is behind her. Toni comes up slow but Shelby falls into her, terrified.

“I’m sorry.”

She’s shaking in Toni’s arms and Toni just tightens up on her,

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done—

“Sometimes I feel like I’m the worst person on the planet,” Shelby whispers, “just for loving you. Sometimes I feel like I’m cheating God, just because I’m happy. Sometimes I feel like there is no God and I’ve been cheated, and whoever I am just crumbles into nothing. I don’t know if I am anyone anymore, I don’t know why you’re with me.”

—on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.

“I feel like the whole world is spinning on one axis, and I’m spinning on the other,” Shelby finishes.

Toni finally pulls away, hands still on Shelby’s biceps, Shelby still shaking under them.

“I’m with you because I love you,” Toni says. “What else is there?”

And there’s nothing else, is there?

When it all was stripped away, their hygiene and the fluoride in their water supply, their history and their secrets and their family and their responsibilities to everything but basic survival—all that was left was love. Love for each other, and their lives back home, and for the dead, and the world, and a hundred other things they hadn’t loved since they were little. Like the way the sky looks just before sunset, or the way it smells after it rains, and chocolate chip cookies their mom made for them after they got home from school. Like old people struggling to carry their grocery bags, or the kids with cancer when those ads came on the TV to donate, or the homeless man that always smiled at them.

That was all that was left, that love. And the love for each other.

There is no intrinsic reason why Shelby should love Dot and Fatin, or Rachel or Leah. There is no reason why she should love Nora and Martha. There is no reason why she should love her parents, her siblings. There is no reason why she should love Becca Gilroy.

There is no reason why she should love Toni Shalifoe.

But there is a reason, isn’t there? She loves Toni because she loves her.

Maybe Leah was right, that falling off a cliff won’t kill her. That’s faith isn’t it? Trust, blindly, openly, love because you love.

“I can’t walk home,” Shelby says. “My ankle it—”

“I’ve got you,” Toni says.

She does.

#tell me what you kids think #goodfoe #shoni #goodfoe fanfic #gus writes #the wilds fanfic #the wilds #toni shalifoe #shelby goodkind #leah rilke #work in progress wednesday #maybe i'll do a rec today too?#haven't decided

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thelightofthingshopedfor · 4 years ago

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Goddamn it Kyra I wasn't even interested in the Lego Lokis before, but now that you've so rudely posted pics of the options I'm probably going to have to buy some. So, couple questions: I'm not familiar with the website you linked to (it doesn't help that I'm on my phone lol) - do you get them from that site or just Aliexpress? I've kind of poked around there but I don't think I've ever actually bought anything - do you have links to those ones you bought or any tips for finding them on the site? (or like. using the site in general without getting scammed or something? Idk much about it other than stuff being low priced lol).

😇😇😇

putting the rest behind a cut because oops this got long

OKAY SO the cool thing about knockoff Lego figures is that a) there are a ton of them, so you can probably find multiple versions of most characters, and b) they're super cheap, so if you do end up getting ripped off, you're probably only out a few bucks. plus if you don't get ripped off, you feel like a genius, because authentic Lego minifigs tend to cost way more than they should (and if you get them online, you probably don't have a good way to know that they're authentic) and here you are getting something just as good or better for way less.

the site I was getting pictures from is HeroBloks, which I only just discovered myself a couple days ago; it looks like mostly it's good for tracking your collection (and learning more about bootleg Lego minifigs in general, maybe--I didn't really realize until now how many different companies there are making Lego-like minifigs) rather than buying, with individual pages including sale links that are only mildly useful. like, the extremely sad TVA Loki has an AliExpress search link that apparently just searches for "blocks," which is the least helpful search term imaginable; the eBay link uses "xinh+xh1745+loki (tva)" as the search term and that's definitely better, although it doesn't actually turn up anything. maybe that one's too new to be widely available yet, I don't know. (I hope that's the case. I need him and his sad little face to come and live with me.)

anyway--eBay is a possible source. searching for "loki minifigure" gets me results for several of the new ones I’ve been seeing, and they all seem to be shipping from Japan or South Korea. the problem is they're all selling for $4.99 plus $7.49 shipping each, which is...more than I want to spend on something I know is a knockoff of some kind when I don't know anything about the quality control and I'm not guaranteed to get what's in the picture. (here's another listing asking $40 total for all 8 figures I bought yesterday, which is actually a better price, and I'd probably end up doing that if I hadn't found them elsewhere, but that's because I have a problem.)

this is why I like AliExpress, because the risks are slightly higher but the prices tend to be much lower, even with shipping prices having gone up a bit over the last couple years. as I understand it, the site is basically just a huge marketplace for tons of different sellers in Asia, like if eBay only allowed fixed-price listings and it was based in China. the vast majority of the site reads like it went through Google Translate, because it probably did. you can find...basically anything there. I have no idea if any of it's authentic. (I also don't know anything about how or where any of the knockoff stuff is made, so...there is that.) I would not, for instance, drop $300 on a Hot Toys Loki from here, even though I absolutely would have the option to do so, for the obvious reason that I'm not going to risk that much money on an item that might be a cheap knockoff or could arrive broken. there is, in general, a solid possibility of breakable things arriving broken, because decent packaging costs more. cheap shipping will be slow (by which I mean like...up to 90 days), and most purchases either won't have tracking at all or won't have accurate tracking, so this is absolutely not a place to buy anything you want to get quickly. you also don't want to just buy something and forget about it, because there are (variable but generous) time limits past which you can't get a refund if you don't receive your items. the site's UI is...mostly functional. you often have to get a little creative with your search terms to find what you want (and sometimes you won’t find what you want through searching, but through looking at related items on the pages of things that aren’t quite what you want or are what you want but aren’t a good price). you will, absolutely, come across a lot of stolen art on things like pins, t-shirts, stickers, and phone cases, which you might not realize until you see something you recognize from a fanartist you like, and obviously that sucks. listing photos are nearly always stock photos, so in many cases they won't tell you anything about the item you're actually getting. you know the Wish app, and all the crazy things people get from that? you can find all the same stuff on AliExpress, at similar levels of quality.

however, if you approach it keeping all that in mind, it can be a great resource. I can't make any guarantees about the site's safety, but to the best of my knowledge it's secure and I've never had any weird charges show up after buying something. it's also my understanding that Alibaba, the parent company, is more or less the Chinese equivalent of Amazon in terms of the amount of business it does, which would probably be pretty tough if customer data were routinely being exposed to thieves, you know? I've also successfully gotten several refunds for items that never arrived, which actually hasn't happened all that often--but knowing that it can happen and that the return period expires, I’ll check back on the site if it seems like it’s been an unusually long time and I’ll make a reminder for myself of the deadline so I can contact the seller in time if necessary.

so the way I shop there is, I don't buy expensive or fragile things in general, because I recognize there's a nonzero chance I'll get a cheap knockoff, or something that was broken in transit because the seller tossed it in a box with no padding and called it good, or sometimes nothing at all. but like eBay, the sellers and items have ratings and reviews from customers, so that helps avoid some risk. items with lots of reviews tend to include at least a few customer photos, which are great for getting a better idea of what the thing you're buying actually looks like. I took a bit of a risk last year buying a Hot Toys (or the equivalent, I actually have no idea) Steve Rogers head for about $20, for instance, but I wasn't super worried about it because the customer photos looked good, the seller I used had a lot of sales and a lot of good ratings, and it was still a lot less than I would've paid for an authentic Hot Toys Steve Rogers head--and in fact he got here just fine and he looked fantastic. I also spent about $20 for a knockoff Iron Studios Loki statue, because in that case it was like...yep I’d love the real thing, nope I’m not willing to spend hundreds of dollars on it, yep I am willing to spend $20 on something that doesn’t look quite as nice but still looks good enough for me in the customer photos. well, and I’ve also bought knockoffs I knew would look bad, because they were cheap and I want all the Lokis and I have enough of an addiction that all the Lokis does in fact sometimes mean “even ones that look really bad” to me.

anyway, uh, Lego-type minifigs. this is an especially good area to go knockoff, because--okay, apparently I can’t link to a page of HeroBloks search results for some reason, but it’s the best resource I’ve found for this type of thing that isn’t just authentic Lego figures. but if you go there and do a search for “loki” you’ll get a bunch of results and you’ll see that they come from like...9 or 10 different brands. Lego specifically has only four Loki options: Avengers Loki in black, Avengers Loki in gray for some reason (which, frankly, looks like a cheap knockoff but isn’t), movie-inaccurate Ragnarok Loki with the blue outfit and the full helmet, an ugly Classic Loki, and a mostly green Loki from I guess the first Thor movie (and then I think they’re going to release a TVA Loki, a Sylvie, and a Throg). all those other results--all those different outfits from every single Loki appearance, and different variations on those outfits, nearly all of them more screen-accurate and/or detailed than the Lego versions--are technically knockoffs. they’re better and you can buy them for way less. (I mean, a lot of them are new so I don’t have them yet, but I do have frost giant Loki, better Ragnarok Loki, better Avengers Loki, opera Loki who actually has another face that’s half-Jotun, and at least one chrome-helmet option, and they all look basically like the photos. so I think I can reasonably expect most of the new ones to look basically like their photos too.)

for reasons that I don’t understand aside from a vague guess that it’s copyright-related, AliExpress pretty much no longer shows full pictures of Lego-type figures in their listings--instead, you have to pick just based on the heads. this is a problem when lots of heads look very similar to each other! luckily, the listings also typically have the actual serial numbers for each figure, as do the HeroBloks listings, so you can cross-reference them to see what you’re really getting. for instance let’s take this listing because it’s cheap and it offers most of the Loki figures that are currently available. say you’re interested in one of the horn-less Lokis. there are...let’s see, five of them, but you have no idea what they actually look like aside from slightly different facial expressions and maybe weapons. however, the first one listed says XH1359 for its color...and what do you know, 1359 is the serial number for this Loki by a company called Xinh. okay cool, how about the last one? the “color” is listed as WM2182--and yes, HeroBloks has a listing for a Ragnarok Loki from World Minifigures with the serial number 2182. (I just ordered all 8 of the new World Minifigures ones yesterday, so again, I can’t personally guarantee yet that they’ll look as good in person as in the pictures--but I think they probably will, and more importantly they cost a whole dollar each.) and if HeroBloks doesn’t have a particular figure, you can probably find something useful just by googling the serial number.

I specifically bought from this listing yesterday because they currently have a bit of a sale going and a deal for free shipping if you buy 10 figures, and I wanted a couple duplicates, so it worked out to be the cheapest option. the same store has another listing for a bunch more Marvel characters, including a couple more Lokis I already had, so it should be pretty easy to get the free shipping so the figures are less than a dollar each and you’re only risking about $10. if you’d rather try one or two and see how it goes, it looks like this listing is probably the cheapest, with figures currently going for a little over a dollar each once you add shipping (although it’s totally possible shipping is more for me because Alaska).

that’s...probably already way more information than you really wanted, but I hope at least some of it makes sense. feel free to ask other specific questions if they come up--I might not be able to give answers exactly, but I can probably tell you what my experience has been, which is better than nothing.

#loki #action figures #lego #marvel cinematic universe #conversations #scintillatingshortgirl19

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