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scary-grace · 27 days ago

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Enough to Go By (Chapter 25) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

Chapter 25

Your phone is ringing from a number you don’t recognize, and you wouldn’t pick it up at all if it hadn’t already rung four times. Either this is one persistent telemarketer, or your mom’s changed her phone number again and you just haven’t noticed. You step out of the high command meeting with an apology and raise it to your ear. “Hello?”

“This number is listed as the emergency contact for a patient who was just admitted to Yokohama General,” the person on the other end of the line says, and your blood turns to ice. “Am I speaking with —“

She says your name, and you nod, your mind spinning. Yoshimi? Why would Yoshimi list you as her contact? She was in remission. What happened? Why — “Miss,” the nurse on the other end of the line says, “I need you to confirm your name.”

You confirm it. “Thank you,” the nurse says. “The patient’s name is Kiyohara Kazuo. His advance directive —“

“His what?”

“His advance directive requires that I share a message with you,” the nurse continues. “The message is this: SAVE YOURSELF, all caps.”

Save yourself? “That doesn’t make any sense,” you say. “What happened? How is he?”

“That’s protected health information. I — ah, it appears he’s signed a consent to release information,” the nurse says. You need to sit down. Your head is spinning worse than before. “Kazuo collapsed at his workplace with a grand mal seizure, believed to have been brought on by overuse of his quirk. Stress may have also been a factor — eyewitnesses state that he was in a contentious discussion with his supervisor at the time.”

Kazuo wouldn’t have used his quirk by accident. He knows where his limit is. Did he push himself past it on purpose? Why? Your eyes are burning beneath your veil. “Do you know what they were fighting about?”

“I wasn’t there,” the nurse says, like you’re stupid. You swallow hard around the lump in your throat. “If my boss could read my mind like his apparently can, I might have a breakdown, too.”

Kazuo’s boss can read minds. Kazuo overloaded his quirk on purpose. Kazuo set you up as his emergency contact and set an advance directive ordering that a specific message be given to you. You ask the nurse for his room number, ask about visiting hours, and all the while you try to figure out what he was thinking. There was something in Kazuo’s mind he didn’t want his boss to see. Flooding his mind with information would have obscured it. And then there’s the message to you, which he prepared ahead of time. Which he must have planned for. Kazuo’s always told you that you can’t save he and Tenko both, or you and he both, or something. But this time he was brutally direct. Save yourself. From what?

Foreboding crashes down on you. You launch to your feet, lose your balance, knock against the wall, and stumble back into the meeting in the middle of some soliloquy from Geten about convincing the average citizen to rise up and join the cause. Re-Destro spots you first. “Saintess?”

“Something’s going to happen,” you say. “My contact at the HPSC — he just —“

“False alarm,” Hawks says at once. Spinner and Skeptic sit bolt upright in their chairs. “I’ve got contacts there, too. None of them have said anything. If your guy’s some mid-level guy —“

“He’s not mid-level!”

“Sure, sure. I’m just saying, I talk to the top brass,” Hawks says. “They’re building up to something, yeah, but they aren’t anywhere close to being ready to move. And when they are, we’ll have plenty of warning.”

“This is the warning,” you say. You see Dabi ignoring you, Re-Destro dismissing you, Geten and Twice and even Compress leaning to Hawks’s side of the story. But that doesn’t matter. There’s only one person you need to convince. “Tomura —“

He never met Kazuo. You know that even the idea of Kazuo bugs him a little bit — it’s a reminder that there was someone before him, someone you loved, even if you never loved them like this. But he trusts you, and when he meets your eyes, you know you’ve won. “Your contacts could have found you out,” he says to Hawks, whose jaw drops. “Better safe than sorry. Activate everybody. We’re starting now.”

You still dislike Re-Destro on principle, but you’ll say this for him — when Tomura gives the order, he snaps to it, and Geten follows suit. Skeptic was already in motion before Tomura spoke, and Spinner catches you by the arm and pulls you out of the room, dragging you down the hall. You’ve gone over plans for the start of the war multiple times, and at no point do they involve Spinner kidnapping you. You speak up as soon as you’ve got your feet under you. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you out of here.”

“Why?” If there’s going to be a fight, you have to stay close to Tomura. You try to wrench your arm out of Spinner’s grip, but he’s holding on too tightly. “Let go. I have to —“

“Hawks just got made. He knows you’re important. Shigaraki’s not leaving you anywhere Hawks can reach.” Spinner’s expression is grim. “Twice is going to make a clone of you. It’ll do the same thing as you, but nothing bad will happen if he kills it.”

Except that Tomura will have to watch you die. “And what am I supposed to do while this is going on? Watch helplessly from the sidelines?”

“No,” Spinner says. “Do what you did during the Deika thing. It’ll work better if no one knows you’re doing it.”

He’s right. You’ve kept the existence of the deleter rounds fairly quiet — after you and Spinner agreed that Hawks was the spy, you started dropping hints about how the production was harder than expected, and the compound didn’t work as well as Overhaul’s. In actuality, you’ve got dozens of bullets, a specially modified gun to fire them from, and a lot of practice while Tomura was in stasis. Next to Tomura, you’re a target, and your ability to do anything other than reinforce Super-Regeneration is limited. At a small distance from him, hidden, you can do a lot.

You stop fighting Spinner, and he breathes a sigh of relief. “Go get your gear. Stay out of sight. And don’t worry about him. We’ve got his back.”

You believe that, now. You didn’t before, but now you see it — the League wants Tomura to survive, too. No matter how else they feel about the new world, they want him in it. You nod, and Spinner lets go of your arm, leaving you to run back to the room you and Tomura share. Everything you need is hidden under the bed, and as you put it on, it occurs to you suddenly that Hawks doesn’t know what you look like. How likely is it that any of the heroes know? Right now, the biggest identifying feature you have is your costume. If you take it off —

When you step back out of the room, joining the flood of PLF members headed to their battle stations, you’re dressed in civilian clothes, and no one pays any attention to you. Word is spreading that Hawks is a traitor, that heroes are headed here right now, and while you’d expect the members of the PLF to be frightened, they aren’t. Some of them are angry with Hawks, angry with themselves for being taken in. But even the ones who are angry seem excited, too. They believe they can win. And with the advance warning Kazuo’s given you, combined with Tomura’s near-omnipotence, you think they might be right.

You don’t have an assigned battle station — everyone assumed you’d be with Tomura — so you go looking for the intelligence center instead. Skeptic has cameras everywhere. He’ll be able to see exactly who’s come to fight, and you’ll be able to see exactly who you need to hit in order to turn the tide of the battle in the League’s favor. When you get there, Skeptic’s not alone — Dabi’s there, too, in the worst mood you’ve ever seen him in. They’re arguing about something you couldn’t care less about. You wedge yourself past them to look at the screens, and your stomach drops.

There are so many heroes. You’ve never seen that many in your life, all at once, all converging on the PLF headquarters. You know Kazuo gave you all the warning he could, but you’re suddenly convinced that it wasn’t enough. This looks like every hero in Japan, from the top ten to people you’ve never seen, from heroes who have been around forever to students. A slow twist of anger works its way through you as you notice kid after kid from Toga’s YouTube playlist running across the screens. What the hell are the heroes doing bringing kids to fight a war?

Ultimately you know who you want to hit, but you don’t have nearly enough bullets for every hero. And you’re not exactly a hero expert. You turn away from the screens and step right into the middle of Dabi’s argument with Skeptic. “I have quirk-canceling bullets that actually work. Who should I hit?”

“Endeavor,” Skeptic says at once.

“No,” Dabi snarls, and you flinch. “Not him, and not the little brat he bred to replace him. They’re mine.”

Skeptic argues, but you talk over him. “I don’t care who deals with them as long as someone takes them out,” you say. “Who else?”

“The only way Shigaraki loses this is if his quirks stop working,” Dabi says. “That fucking traitor will have told them what he has, so they’ll have brought Eraserhead. Get him and the heroes are screwed.”

“And how did the traitor know what the Grand Commander has?” Skeptic hisses. Dabi snarls. “You told him. This is your fault.”

“Twice was friendly with him!”

“Not half as friendly as you!”

Maybe this is what they were fighting about when you came in. It doesn’t matter. You need to find Eraserhead and take him out of the fight, and you won’t need to kill him to do it. All it will take is one shot. The building rumbles around you, but you don’t flinch — it’s just Gigantomachia, waking up, just like Tomura’s plan calls for him to do. You keep watching the screens, looking for Eraserhead, and you find him fast. He’s not hard to miss, not when he’s running alongside the numbers one, five, six, and ten heroes, plus three or four others.

That concentration of firepower can only be aimed at one person. They’re headed for Tomura, and with Eraserhead there to cancel Tomura’s quirks, his ability to fight back will be limited. The only way to stop it is to make sure to cancel his first. You slip out of the room while Dabi and Skeptic are still fighting and head for the front lines.

Most of the fighting is happening outside the building. Tomura’s game plan called for keeping the enemy forces from breaching the building, although you’re not sure why, given that Gigantomachia destroyed part of it already with his emergence. The ground is shaking with his steps, and there’s already one hero struggling to hold him back. As you watch through a shattered window, you see a shadow lift from the ground, wings extended. You’re not a hero expert, but you’re pretty sure that’s the number ten hero, Ryukyu. That’s one less person against Tomura. One less person shielding Eraserhead.

You can’t see Toga or Twice — or Compress, now that you think about it. If you had to put a bet on where Spinner is, you’d say he’s by Tomura. Which is where you should be. You can’t see the clone Twice supposedly made of you, but you’re sure it’s around somewhere. Not dead yet. If it were dead, you’d know. Not because you’d feel it, but because you know what Tomura would do.

You’re not on anybody’s list of important targets, which means you go largely unnoticed as you duck and weave through the fight. Without your veil, not even the members of the PLF can recognize you, and you keep your gun close to your side, out of sight. At one point, though, you make eye contact with a familiar face — bright-eyed, dressed in pink, a pink-shaded visor down over her face. Uraraka Ochako, hero name: Uravity. You duck out of her eyeline, your heart hammering. She won’t remember you. Even if she does recognize your face, she won’t know where she remembers you from, and she definitely won’t link you to the League of Villains. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

Except it’s not her you should have been worrying about. There’s somebody else staring down at you — a kid, too young to be a pro hero, must be a student. “Hey,” he says, frowning. His voice sounds strangely familiar. “Are you okay? You look —“

He doesn’t see you as a combatant, or any kind of threat. You can’t count on that to last. You bring the gun up from your side, flip the safety off, and drill a quirk-canceling bullet into his shoulder.

The student staggers, frowning — but he’s clearly confused, particularly when the bullet falls away, spent, the needle exposed. “What was that?” he asks, as you get back to your feet – and finally, you realize who you’re looking at.

It’s your brother. One of the twins. Shinji, you think. A student at Ketsubutsu Academy, called up to fight a war. And now he’s quirkless. You should feel something. He’s your brother. But all you can think of is the number of times he practiced using his quirk on you. Shinji’s frown deepens. “What did you do to me?”

You need to get away from him before he figures it out — and before he can let anyone else know. He’s got an earpiece in one ear. You snatch it out of his ear and run, jamming it into yours instead. He’s pretty obviously dressed as a hero. If he runs into anyone from the PLF, they’ll fight him, and he’ll have to fight them without his quirk. Shinji’s not going to be able to follow you. And without his earpiece, he can’t call for help, either.

The channel the earpiece is tuned to is a mess. There are directives coming in from somewhere, but they’re drowned out almost entirely by the heroes trying to coordinate, trying to counterattack, trying to adjust to the fact that the PLF, who was supposed to be caught unawares, seems to have been ready for them. You recognize Endeavor’s voice from TV broadcasts, and you know he’s pursuing Tomura, so you try to listen for him specifically as you pick your way around the edges of the fight. You promised Dabi you wouldn’t go after him, but if it comes down to destroying his quirk or letting him hurt Tomura, you know what you’ll choose.

You’re not a strategist, but as you draw closer to the battle, you try to think like one. Eraserhead’s quirk is like yours — it affects somebody else rather than doing anything for him. It would make the most sense for him to stay out of sight, like you’re doing, in a hiding spot where he can see Tomura but Tomura can’t see him. It occurs to you how likely it is that Eraserhead is doing the exact same thing you’re doing, a split second before you make your way around a piece of rubble and find Eraserhead crouched behind it, peering up and over at the fight between Tomura and the heroes.

For a moment you’re frozen, but you shake it off fast. The range here isn’t as close as it was with the student you shot, but it’s still well within your abilities, and all you need to do is tag him. You feel an odd squeamishness about shooting someone who isn’t hurting you, who doesn’t even know you’re there. Then you think about it. Eraserhead wants to hurt Tomura. Eraserhead’s also a hypocrite — calling himself a hero, defending his psychopathic student while disallowing any possibility that villains could be anything but irredeemably evil. He deserves what you’re about to do, as much as anyone can be said to deserve it. You raise your gun and aim for his torso.

“Hey!” Something skids into your field of vision, blocking Eraserhead completely. It’s the student the League abducted, the one who acts like a villain, as if you’ve summoned him just by thinking about him. He has his arm pulled back, sparks flying around his hand. If you don’t do something soon, you’re going to take an explosion to the face. “I don’t know who the hell you are, extra, but if you think —“

You don’t need to think. You pull the trigger, and the bullet you’d marked out for Eraserhead hits the hero student instead.

His hand drops, like you’ve cut the muscles in his arm instead of canceled his quirk, and you see confusion on his face, just like you saw on the other student you hit. Unlike that student, he reacts fast, raising his other hand, his face screwing up in concentration as he tries to call up a quirk that’s long-gone. With no quirk, he’s not your problem — or so you think. “Sensei, cut it out! I wasn’t going to hurt her —“

That’s an enormous lie, and it’s cute that he thinks Eraserhead is the one doing this. You cycle another round into the chamber and lean out around him, just in time for Eraserhead to look towards his student. The two of you make eye contact. You see his face shift, see that he’s registered something’s off. He’s not watching Tomura any longer. His attention is on you, and his hair falls around his face, and you’re in the act of pulling the trigger when the student tackles you from one side.

Your shot goes wide, and you put an elbow into the student’s face as you fire another. You get lucky with this one. Eraserhead’s coming towards you, hand held out, and the bullet sinks into the palm of his hand.

He must know what it is. That’s the only explanation you can think of for why he reacts the way he does, and how fast he does it. Eraserhead draws a knife from his utility belt, raises it, and amputates his left hand with a single stroke.

Was he fast enough to keep his quirk? You’re not sure. Whether he was or not, he’s toppling sideways, blood pouring from the stump of his hand, and the student lets go of you, racing forward to catch him. “Sensei —“

Nobody’s holding onto you, so you run. As you vanish around a corner, you hear Eraserhead’s voice, tight with pain and anger. “Leave it, Bakugou. Stop her!”

The student’s going to be after you. That’s fine. Unlike him, you know how to fight without a quirk. Your clip is almost empty. You fire the last bullet into the crowd, hitting a hero at random, then load the next one. The thought of circling back around to try to put Eraserhead down for good crosses your mind. Even if you canceled his quirk on the first try, you can’t be too careful. At least, you don’t think you can. You hear the distinctive sound of warp sludge spewing and look to your right, just in time to spot one of the high-end Nomus unfurling its limbs and rising to its feet. It reaches for you, hand closing around your waist, and pulls you in close. “Master’s orders,” it rumble as you fight. “Keep her safe.”

“Let me go,” you order, and it loosens its grip on you — but it doesn’t let you go entirely. Your authority must be subordinate to Tomura’s, somehow. The Nomus will follow your orders only if they don’t contradict Tomura’s. You try desperately to think of a workaround. “He said to keep her safe? He meant Toga. Go get Toga.”

“No,” the Nomu says. “Her.”

It says your name, and you curse yourself. Of course Tomura would have gotten specific. Of course he would had made sure. After what happened in Deika city, you should have guessed that he’d have set up multiple backup plans to keep you away. The Nomu repeats the order again, like you didn’t hear it the first time, this time with your name firmly embedded in it. “Master’s orders.”

“Then come with me,” you say. “I have to go fight. Come with me and keep me safe.”

This time, the workaround has at least some effect. The Nomu loosens its grip completely, but draws close to you, shadowing you completely. It says your name a third time. “Keep safe. Master said —“

“So that’s your real name,” a voice says in your ear, and terror rips down your spine. “I liked Saintess better.”

The Nomu lashes out, but Hawks is too fast. He yanks you away, splitting the Nomu’s head open with a massive, razor-sharp feather. You try to get the gun around to the right angle to shoot him, only for him to grab your wrist and twist it hard enough to shatter it. You yelp in pain, and worse, you drop the gun. Hawks lets your wrist fall, twists the other behind your back, and clamps his free hand over your mouth. “I have to hand it to you and your friend at the HPSC. You two really screwed things up,” he says. You try to bite his fingers, and he curses. A moment later you feel the sharp press of a feather against your throat. “Skeptic got a message out before we jammed communications. PLF cells are activating across the country. How does it feel to be the cause of a civil war?”

“I didn’t cause it.” Your voice is muffled, but you get the words out. “You’re the ones who made it possible.”

“And here I was thinking you could be reasoned with.” Hawks laughs, low and dark. “Tell me something. Did you ever buy it? Me as a member of the PLF?”

You throw an elbow backwards and try to bite him again, and this time, the feather that bites into your throat bites deep enough to draw blood. “Never.”

“Then you should have said something about it yesterday,” Hawks says. “Now it’s too late.”

He lets go of the hand behind your back and wraps it around your waist instead, and suddenly your feet leave the ground. His wings buffet the air, hauling you both upwards. Your backpack falls from your shoulders, and you grab for it desperately, trying to salvage something, anything. Your hand closes around a single clip. Six bullets, no gun, and the Number Two hero holding what amounts to a sword to your throat. This is worse than Overhaul’s attempt to capture you, worse than facing down Re-Destro. Hawks has you, and you can’t get out. What is he going to do with you? Take you up to a height and drop you? Drag you back to the heroes and throw you into Tartarus? Make you disappear entirely, so that no one ever finds you?

No, you realize. Hawks is carrying you towards the battle, not away from it. He wants everyone to find you. Or maybe not everyone. Just one person.

He raises his voice, shouting into the wind. “Hey, Grand Commander! I’ve got something of yours!”

From above, the battlefield is a wasteland. The PLF’s headquarters are mostly in ruins, and the woods and gardens surrounding the compound are scorched black or still in flames. There are bodies on the ground, but from this height, you can’t tell who’s dead or just wounded, who’s a hero or a member of the PLF or a student who should never have been here to begin with. You know where Tomura is, though. You can see Re-Destro in his giant form, the light glinting off of Spinner’s blades, shreds of Dabi’s blue fire clashing with Endeavor’s red flames. You can see that the heroes are in trouble, that Tomura’s quirks are enough to hold them back almost single-handedly. And you can see that Tomura comes to a stop at the sound for Hawks’s voice. Everyone else keeps fighting, but Tomura freezes, and Hawks drops a few feet in altitude. “That’s right. Take a good look. I’ve got her.”

You hear Tomura’s response loud and clear. “You’ve got a clone.”

“I dealt with the clone already,” Hawks calls back. You see someone strike towards Tomura, only to be deflected by Re-Destro. Tomura doesn’t even look. “Twice’s copies are pretty good, but he always leaves one thing out.”

A smaller feather slices through the chain of your necklace, and it drops into Hawks’s hand. He tosses it down towards Tomura, and you see Tomura’s hand flash out to catch it. You can’t see his expression from here. “All right then,” Hawks says. “Now that we’ve established that I’ve got your girlfriend, here’s what’s going to happen.”

“No, this is what will happen.” Tomura kicks off from the ground and launches into the air — Air Walk, one of the quirks you and the doctor transplanted into him. Now he and Hawks are facing each other. “You’re going to give her back, and maybe if you do I’ll kill you myself instead of letting Dabi do it!”

“Come near me and I’ll cut her throat,” Hawks says, and Tomura stops. You see his expression contort in a way that’s unfamiliar, but it smooths out a split second later. “See, we could just beat you into submission — we’ve got numbers — but the problem is the big guy, and that army of yours that’s just started acting up. Not to mention all those Nomus. Killing you isn’t going to put them back in the bottle, so I’m going to need you to tell them to stand down.”

Hawks is smart. Too smart. The part of you that’s not writhing in terror realizes that Hawks has solved a problem that the rest of the heroes haven’t even thought of. If Tomura dies, there’s no one to give Gigantomachia the order to stand down. There’s no one to put the brakes on the PLF, a PLF that will be enraged by the heroes’ attack. If the heroes want this to stop, they need Tomura to stop it himself, and Hawks has pinpointed the one thing that’s always swayed Tomura, ever since this started — threats to people he cares about. He got into it with Overhaul because Magne was killed and brought back, sought out the fight with the Meta Liberation Army to rescue Giran. All that is true. You still don’t think there’s anything that will make Shigaraki Tomura stand down when the stakes are this high.

But he’s never been just Shigaraki Tomura. And ever since you both were children, you’ve never seen Tenko accept losing you even once.

You have to get out of here. You have to get free of Hawks before Tenko’s love for you ruins everything. You thrash, and both Hawks and Tenko snap at you to hold still. Your mind spins uselessly. Hitting Hawks hasn’t worked. You can’t bite him without moving your head, without pressing the feather against your throat. You don’t have a weapon on you. The only thing you have is the clip of quirk-canceling bullets in your hand.

Your right wrist is broken, but your fingers are okay. You switch the clip from your left hand to your right, trying to lock your fingers in place around it, and begin prying it open with your left hand. Hawks is still talking. “If you don’t order them to stand down, then I’ll kill her. It’s pretty straightforward. Do as I say or your girlfriend dies.”

“You’re going to kill an innocent person so you can get an easy win?” Tenko’s voice sounds as strange as the expression that contorts his features a second time. “What kind of hero are you?”

“One life for the whole country? I’m the kind of hero who makes hard choices,” Hawks retorts. “Your girlfriend might be innocent by your standards, but she’s a criminal just like you. I don’t want to do it, but I’d be doing everyone a favor.”

Tenko’s expression contorts again, but you recognize part of it this time — horror. You haven’t seen him look that way since you were children. His hands come up, clamping down on either side of his face, fingernails biting deep. “No —“

“Then this will be a really easy choice. Order them to stand down,” Hawks says. You pry open the clip and the bullets fall into your hand — and then out of it. Out of six in the clip, you’re only able to save one. “I’m going to give you fifteen seconds to comply. Fifteen — fourteen —“

He keeps counting down, and below you, you see a flaming figure break away from the fight. Endeavor. He’ll be here sooner than Hawks’s countdown will end, and Tenko will be trapped. You can’t let that happen to him. You can’t let his dream fall apart because of you. You flick the protective cap on the bullet hard, trying to shatter it and expose the needle, and feel it break away beneath your nail. You break the action down into the simplest possible steps, the same as you did when you were learning stitches or shooting a gun.

Shift your grip. Lean back, away from the feather. Keep looking at Tenko. Don’t look away. Bring your hand to your side. Think about where you’ll hit. Take a deep breath — your last one ever, if this goes wrong — and shout to Tenko, playing the role of his sidekick one more time. “Behind you! Look out!”

Tenko looks. Hawks curses at you, shakes you, and you bring your left hand up, stabbing the bullet into the back of his hand.

Hawks jerks back, but it’s too late. The feather at your throat goes limp and falls away, and a moment later, Hawks’s wings cease to beat. The two of you remain aloft for another second before gravity catches up to you, and then you fall. You’re falling together at first. Then Hawks shoves you away from him, hard. He wants to save himself. Fine. You know it’s too late for both of you already.

Hawk’s shove flipped you from falling facedown to looking up. You have a decent view of Tenko up above you, locked in combat with Endeavor and whichever other heroes can fight in the air. He must be taking damage — you can feel your vision blurring, your heart racing, as your quirk siphons your strength and sends it to him. Maybe that will be what kills you. Maybe you’ll die before you hit the ground.

That’s okay with you. You decided it could end like this, a few months back or forever ago. The thought settles over you as your vision goes black for the last time. You’re a sidekick. No good sidekick would let her hero lose.

<- Chapter 24

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nosebleedsturn · 1 month ago

Text

four ; talk, talk, to me

Words: 2,044

november 2nd, 7:00 pm

mal's birthday party was in full swing. the ice sculputure, similar to the one at jake webber and carringtons party, was being used really well. matt sat in the corner of the room, a root beer in his hands as he swirled the drink around with a straw. he wasn't exactly having a bad time, but he wasn't particularly having a good time either.

he'd seen vega here and there, but overall didn't really notice her too much. she too tended to be by herself and really only entertained the girls at the party. which there really weren't too many guys. just sam, which matt had met earlier in the day. after the whole thing with vega, he truly thought the two were dating, and as soon as they were gone he had voice his question. cami denied. "vega doesn't want a boyfriend." cami said from the floor, still applying crystals onto mal's cheeks. "we'd know if she was dating sam. they rarely even see each other unless she goes to art class or to target." matt nodded and shut up again.

but he couldn't help thinking of the way sam held onto her. his touch was gentle but also solid. he didn't want to hurt her. he held her like she was going to break, which she probably had. the screaming inside the room only lasted about twelve more seconds after they walked into her bedroom and then after that it was pure silence.

then matt, nick, and chris, all piled into their van. they were bringing over the cake and a few last minute decorations like the fog machine and the speakers. thing's the girls couldn't quite do on their own, well didn't want to do. matt was sure they could've figured it out somehow, but he was happy to help and take some of the stress off the girls hands for a bit. the triplets had left before vega could come out of her room, which chris figured it was better that way. his crush on vega's best friend, camille, really made him fearful of her. he didn't want to piss her off, make sure chris and cami would never see each other again. but at the same time, chris wasn't too sure if he'd ever ask cami out. he was content just being her friend for now.plus, chris always pushed his feelings away and said that nick and matt's love was all he needed. matt said shortly before they left that chris needed to man up and reveal his true feelings to cami or he was gonna do it for her. chris practically begged him not too, fearing the worst for himself. it was true, he really liked girls who seemed to have no interest in him, and truly believed camille would never like him. but if chris wasn't blind, then he'd see that cami was just shy and didn't have all the regular 'how to tell if a girl like me 101' down like other girls did. she was almost silent around chris, opting to speak less than to speak more. she also stared a lot, tilting her head to look him in the eye, staring up at him. it made nick and matt feel grossed out that they could see cami's true feelings for chris, and that the boy in question couldn't. it made no sense but chris wasn't hearing them as usual.

so matt said, "either you tell her this month or i'll tell her for you next month!" and with that matt slammed the front door in his face, walking over to the girls house. was matt actually gonna tell cami the truth, no probably not. after all, if chris wasn't ready yet then he wasn't ready yet. all he wanted was to light a harmless fire under his ass. it was agony watching him for for the girl next door and keep his mouth shut about it. chris had done a great job of not letting a girl into his life, always ignoring the telltale signs of a women crushing on him. he's even gone as far as set his own feelings aside, thinking that his love wouldn't benefit her. it hasn't worked out well in his favor, only leaving him more heartbroken. matt and nick both agreed that it was time chris should grow up, see what life has to offer that isn't related to his brothers lives. maybe kiss someone, go on a date.

now with their imposibly nosy fans, it felt like it was going to be even harder, but nick and matt were determined to have chris and camille go on at least one date or kiss before new years came around.

chris was practically shaking in his boots. sam had walked over only moments ago saying that vega needed to talk to him about something kinda serious. chris sat down on the pure white couch on the outside patio. it was quiet out there, only the rustling of the trees in the backyard to be heard. and the waterfall of the lit up pool. the warehouse was huge, house shapes, mostly meant for party throwing. chris sipped his ice cold pepsi in child like fear. he wasn't actually afraid of vega, not exactly. it was the crush he harbored for her friend that made him fearful of her. to him, she was like an overprotective mother. she didn't even let him walk across the lawn when he and matt were throwing a football around in the front yard. he had no clue how she'd react when she found out he liked cami. she'd kill him for sure.

chris swallowed when the back door slid open and the sparkle filled his vision. he stared ahead, feeling awkward since his eyes were in line with her breats but he stayed silent. "uh, chris? are you in there?" vega's voice cut through chris brain like a glass shard and he looked up at her. "yeah i'm here. uh sit?" chris patted the empty spot on the couch beside him. vega listened for once, sitting down beside him. he didn't question her when she sat with at least two and a half feet from him. she doesn't sit with guys. he felt almost special, and fearful, but kinda special to be this close to her when she looked a little... sad? "what's up?" chris vocalized, realizing she looked like she was in pain. "we don't gotta talk-"

"i'm really sorry chris." her voice sounded robotic. she never apologized so bluntly before, even though her whole personality was based around being blunt and painfully obvious, sarcastic, and annoying banter. chris' eyes furrowed as he looked at her. "you don't-"

"no please, just uhm... just listen." vega pleaded quietly. chris nodded letting the girl opposite him continue. "i'm sorry for talking to you like that, i really didn't mean it... i just." vega lost her train of thought, not really knowing how to explain it all to chris. but he let her take his time. the silence flowed around them like a river but vega wasn't drowning for once. chris could see the mental gears turning in her head. "it's okay." chris finally spoke in a comforting manner. "sometimes my thoughts get a little too much too. i forget the names of thing's too. sometimes i don't know how to say thing's either. i'm bad at spelling too, same with matt. nick's always been better at articulating his thoughts."

vega, almost shy, looked up at chris. "really?" chris nodded, lips pursing. "yeah, i forget what i'm talking about, i take too long telling my stories, i say i'm gonna tell the short story but go off on a tangent. it's okay if you don't know how to say it, if you say anything i swear to you i'll get it." chris promised and vega's lips curled up in a thin line. it's the first time he's seen her smile, like really smile. not a sarcastic smile, not gloating. it was barely there, but it was something. it was progress. "there's like a shit ton of videos online where i'm talking and making no sense. i mean, i know what i'm saying, kinda, but i sound like an idiot."

"okay well, sometimes i see guys and i panic and i was mad at you cause i'm mad at every guy really. i just can't trust them you know, my ex boyfriend, he's in jail now, he doesn't even know i'm here. he still thinks i'm sitting alone in my room in new york. i haven't visited him once since he's gone in. still thinks i'm a sad, lonely, girl he can walk all over and beat the shit out of. when i saw you on the couch i panicked a little bit. it's mine and i don't really like sharing. and cami says you're nice, mal says you're nice. i trust them, i trust sam too he says you're nice as well." truly, chris could keep up with her fast paced speech. chris' eyes watched her the whole time. aside from sam, chris was the only guy to ever see the side of vega. she was... being vulnerable and she wasn't sure if this was going to bite her in the ass later. "seeing you on it reminded me that it was mine, and daniel never let me have thing's that were just mine. i got a little territorial and i'm really fucking sorry chris." vega emphasized. "so i guess i can trust you too?" vega finished, almost like she was questioning herself but chris nodded. "you can trust me. i trust you too." chris smiled and vega's smile widened just the tiniest bit. "thank you for apologizing. i really accept your apology, and i get why you reacted that way."

"thank you for accepting my apology." the two of them smiled at each other a bit, getting to know each other some more with some simple questions. and for the second time, vega was finding herself another guy friend she could trust, chris knew it.

maybe vega wasn't so scary afterall.

vega smiled slightly as she and chris walked back into the main room. vega had gotten a little bit drunk, not too much since she hated being drunk, it reminded her that she could lose control of herself, that people could take advantage of her. it reminded her of everything daniel liked doing to her when she was drunk, but at the same time she didn't mind it. it was sickeningly comforting to her, dragging her mind into a state where she was her old self again. the vega that actually could talk to anyone, who was comforting, warm, inviting, fun.

they all sang happy birthday to malerie, who then sat by a huge tree opening her presents like a kid at christmas. honestly, the whole idea was adorable like this. it was then when vega asked if she could talk to nick maybe. chris agreed, staying by her side, making sure that she and sam weren't too far apart either. vega had opened up to chris a tiny bit about her anxiety and how sammy always helped her when she wasn't feeling too good. that's also when chris said that his older brother matt also had anxiety and if she ever wanted tips on how to deal with it, she should definitely talk to matt.

but for some fucking reason, those blue eyes matt had seemed to scare her more than anything in the world. matt didn't seem scary, but to vega, he was the worst horror movie and she'd die before letting herself talk to him. if she could just figure out why.

N O S E B L E E D S

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just thought i'd let ya'll know today is my birthday lmaoooo. nasty nineteen!

uhm i'm sure we've all heard the horror stories that start at 18 and don't end until 25 so if there's anyone out there older than me who has any words of wisdom. i'm the eldest of 6 younger relatives and i have three older cousins but i only seen maybe once a year so i have like no one to look up to. anywho, i love ya'll and welcome to nosebleeds!

Also, to my other Pisces baby’s, ITS OKAY TO BE EMOTIONAL. I was made fun of all the time for being emotional, for being a dreamer. USE IT! your dreams are a reality that you have the power to make for yourself. Being emotional and empathetic is not a weakness!

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so-sures-blog · 7 months ago

Text

to love and to learn

I’ve had this request since 2022 and had half done for more than a year now. Sorry it took so long! 😭

Summary: (to have and to hold)

Zoey navigates her relationship with Mike and co. throughout the year, learning that just because things are tough doesn’t mean you shouldn’t hold onto who they are.

A girl with a heart as big as hers shouldn’t be afraid to speak it.

| he is so many things. he is everything. she loses her heart and gets it back, this time ready to hold on. |

*♥️*🩵*

Mal (Spring)

Zoey unlocked the door to her place, purposefully making more noise than necessary as she closed the door and placed all her belongings on the table.

“I’m back!” She called out.

The empty house said nothing back and Zoey sighed, heart sinking. She didn’t know what she was expecting, to be honest. Her house was always empty, always silent, always dark. Normally, that would be any teenager's dream, but Zoey had always felt constricted when she was alone — like she was one tug away from panicking.

Separation anxiety, is what Courtney would call it. Neglect.

Zoey the Lonely, is what the elementary school kids called her.

It wasn’t like Zoey’s parents were bad or anything like that. They were just … never around. They were busy with work and away on trips often, which was fine because they were making money and putting a roof over her head. So Zoey didn’t say anything when they didn’t call her and she always smiled when the neighbors asked how her parents were and if she was fine …

Zoey shook her head out of the thoughts she wandered in. She had friends — close friends, better than anything she could have asked for — and that was enough.

Zoey walked over to the fridge and opened it — only to find absolutely nothing at all. Zoey quickly began looking through the shelves in the pantry and resisted the urge to sigh.

Right, she was supposed to go grocery shopping like, a week ago, curse finals for making her forget —

Zoey grabbed her wallet, keys, and phone and walked out of the house even though it was midnight.

Anything was better than being alone in an empty house.

* * *

Zoey is a sixteen year old girl walking home alone late at night, and apparently that’s some sort of welcome mat to get mugged.

Her credit card is weeping from the amount of things she’s bought but the food will last her a while so she doesn’t have to go shopping again. Zoey’s in good spirits as she crosses the street.

Normally, she would take the buses, but she doesn’t want to wait around outside when it’s one am and she has school tomorrow — well, today. She's also relaxed enough for the first time in about three months to let her guard down a bit, so it's a real shame that she immediately gets jumped by thugs the moment she does.

Zoey shrieks when a heavy hand covers her mouth and she gets dragged into an alleyway. Her back slams into a wall behind her, and Zoey counts three big, dark, intimidating thugs in front of her.

"Hands up, sweetheart, nice and easy," the biggest guy says, waving his gun at her.

Ice-cold fear shot in her veins and she instinctively reached for her pepper spray. Her heart skipped a beat when she felt empty space. She forgot it!

"He said hands up, kid!" the second guy barks at her, his own gun leveling out somewhere wildly above Zoey’s shoulder.

Zoey flinches. Great, not only would she be killed by thugs, she would be killed by amateur thugs. With the way they were holding the guns, she would most likely be shot by their own carelessness rather than actual intention.

"We don't want any trouble, just your money."

Zoey bit back a retort. Yeah, because teenagers just happen to be real millionaires. Who's even teaching these guys how to pick targets —

The thugs move forward, and Zoey cuts off her inner dialogue. Adrenaline races through her veins and her hands tremble at her sides. Just as she tries to summon her voice to call for help, or to desperately use one of Courtney’s self-defense lessons —

“Hey.”

All four of them jump, and the three thugs turn around to see two figures. Zoey couldn’t make out their facial features in the dark, but one was short and stocky while the other was tall and lanky.

The short one took a menacing step forward. “Leave the girl alone, and I promise we’ll leave you with your teeth intact.”

The thugs laugh. “Oh yeah? Last I checked, there’s three of us, and two of you. And we have guns.”

The tall one walks forward, and the thugs gasp. From her place Zoey can’t see who he is, but it makes the thugs tremble.

“B-boss … it’s the Malevolent One! And … the short mohawked green punk!”

Short mohawked green punk? That sounded like someone she knew, but who was the Malevolent One?

Caught up in her musings, Zoey almost didn’t notice the conversation going on.

"Hey kid, we said — hey, stop that creepy grinning, we're pointing a gun at you — "

Duncan just grins wider, cracks his knuckles, and throws himself into a fight.

Zoey screams as Duncan tackles the thug that called him short and gleefully begins going to town on him. The Malevolent One moves like a shadow, knocking the gun from the thug leader and sending him unconscious.

Slowly, they both turn to look at the last thug standing.

The thug’s face loses all its color and he jumps back in terror, screaming as he drops his gun in his haste to escape.

Zoey is frozen, gasping hard as her knees tremble. The two took on three armed thugs and managed to escape with only bruised knuckles.

Zoey’s legs suddenly give out.

“Hey, Zo, are you okay?” A hand is placed on her shoulder, and Zoey looks up to see Duncan staring down at her.

Zoey can’t help but smile. Duncan liked to put up this bad-boy image to make him seem tough, but secretly he had a soft heart. Zoey was glad to be one of the few to see it.

“Yeah, I — um, yeah. Just in shock. No need to worry about me.”

Duncan offers a hand to help her up, handing her the groceries in the process. Zoey shakily stands up, letting out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Duncan.”

She looks at the other guy, whose figure was hiding in the shadows. “Thanks …” she trails off hesitantly.

He steps into the light and her heart stops. Mike, is her first thought. The tall, lanky body, the skin color, the face. Then she looks closer — the frown on his lips, the dark look on his face, the hair covering his eye.

“Mal,” Zoey says. Her throat suddenly feels extremely dry and she resists the urge to swallow.

“Zoey,” he responded neutrally.

Duncan looks back and forth, obviously picking up the strange air between them. “So, are you headed home?” He asked. Zoey and Mal both broke off the weird trance they found themselves in from staring at each other.

“Yeah,” Zoey nodded. “I was just walking back.”

Duncan takes the grocery bags and turns away. “Come on, we’ll walk with you! Don’t want you to get mugged again, do we?”

Zoey exchanged a bewildered look with Mal, but when he merely raised a brow she quickly flushed and hurried after Duncan.

No way was she letting herself be robbed two times in a night.

* * *

“Hey,” Zoey suddenly asked on the walk back. “Where’s Scott?”

Scott, Duncan, and Mal were the “bad guys” of the neighborhood, the misfits. They liked going out at night and causing trouble — nothing serious or endangering, but just enough graffiti to give the police a headache.

Zoey wasn’t very fond of Scott, but if his friends liked him and they were happy, who was she to judge?

“He stayed in because he had to do a biology project.” Duncan said casually, swinging her grocery bags from side to side. On her other side, Mal was carrying her other bags.

Zoey raised a brow. “And he cares because …”

“He’s failing. He spent three hours begging Dawn to help him out.”

Zoey cringed. He must really be desperate if he went crawling to Dawn. She hated his guts more than Zoey did.

“Right…” Zoey said, because she didn’t really know where to take the conversation.

“Anyway, where’re your parents?” Duncan asks. “Should they be the ones doing grocery shopping? Or at the very least, make you do it at a decent time?”

Zoey shrugged, suddenly not in a very chatty mood. “Oh, uh, they’re on a business trip.”

Duncan narrowed his eyes. “Wait, didn’t you say that last month? What —”

Zoey cut him off. “Duncan, I’m tired. So please drop the topic or else I'll text Courtney that you were on the streets beating up thugs at two am on a final’s night.” Zoey waved the phone for emphasis.

Duncan instantly backed off at the threat of bringing Courtney in. He definitely didn’t want his on-and-off girlfriend to get on his case again (even if they were broken up now). “Okay, okay, fine. I get it, I’ll back off.”

Zoey sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

She turned to look at Mal and found his eyes already on her. They were dark and scorching, and it felt like they were burning her body apart to look into her soul. It felt like he knew every secret scrawled under her skin and was taking it apart to observe at his leisure.

Zoey looked away, her heart beating nervously as her skin tingled under his eyes. “This is my stop.” Zoey stopped walking in front of her house. “Thank you for walking me home and for carrying my bags. That was very nice of you.” Zoey sent Duncan a cheeky grin, knowing how much he disliked being called “nice”.

“Just don’t tell anyone about it,” Duncan huffed, handing her the bags. “Probably about time to start heading back anyway. Later, Zoey. See ya, Mal.” With that, Duncan turned away and walked down the street.

Leaving Zoey and Mal standing alone together on the sidewalk.

“Thanks for walking me home, Mal. I appreciate it.” Zoey held out her hand for the other grocery bag.

Mal stared at her open hand uncomprehendingly, long enough for Zoey to get uncomfortable before saying, “I’m supposed to be walking you to your house.”

“We are at my house.”

“No, we’re in front of your house,” Mal corrects.

“My house is literally right there,” Zoey stabs a finger up the front lawn. “I can carry a couple of bags across the lawn. I’ll be fine.”

But Mal just stared at her unwaveringly, so Zoey huffs and marches towards the door. Mal trails after her, and it’s only until she unlocks the front door and opens it when he gives the bags to her.

Zoey flicks on the light, already feeling unsettled by the darkness before she turns to Mal. He’s already staring at her intently, and Zoey bites her lip uncertainty. “Thank you for walking me back,” she says. “For real, this time.”

“No problem,” Mal shoves his hands in his pockets, eyes flicking behind her to see the undeniably empty house. He turns to walk away, before he hesitates. “If you’re ever feeling lonely …” he starts, looking like he was already regretting it, “call me. I’ll always be there.”

Zoey’s face explodes in red and her mouth drops open. Mal quickly turns around and hurries away, leaving Zoey to gape after him in shock.

She closes the door before leaning against it sliding down to the floor. She buries her face in her hands, cheeks hot from her blush.

Yeah, she would call him. She did have his number after all.

She had all of theirs.

* * *

Vito (Spring)

Now, Vito has always been a massive player.

While Manitoba liked to flirt, Vito actually went out with girls. When he wasn't busy starting fights, he was chasing skirts — and while his behavior had always bothered Zoey, lately it bothered her for an entirely different reason.

That reason used to be because she hated the way Vito eyed girls like they were a piece of meat. The smug smirk he wore whenever he flirted with them made her want to punch him.

These days, it was because he flirted with girls. Period.

Not because he was a jerk about it, not because he was crude, not because he finally realized females were more than just boobs and a butt.

It was because every time she caught him winking at a girl or talking her up, it sent her blood spiking. Zoey would find herself gritting her teeth and clenching her fists and she didn't know why.

(Well, she did know why. She just didn't like it, so she ignored it.)

But the fact remained that something had changed, and it was aggravating the life out of her.

Despite everything, Zoey had resolved to simply ignore it. Whatever had happened to her would fade over time, and Vito was his own person (well … sort of. As much as he could be with five others in his brain). He was allowed to make out with whoever he wanted to.

Zoey also knew she was a major people’s pleaser and the type to obsess over every single detail — so she stuck to the mindset of ignoring Vito as well.

And it served her well, until one day after art club she rounded the corner and nearly crashed into Vito, who was currently sucking face with Anne Maria.

Zoey gasped and skidded to a halt. For a moment she simply stood there, gaping. Her feet were glued to the floor and her heart was pounding rapidly.

Zoey clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palm to clear her head. Zoey could feel a powerful emotion bubbling up and she bit her tongue.

What was Vito doing here? Football practice was over, he should have driven home by now. If he wanted to make out with Anne Maria then he should have done it under the bleachers — unless it was occupied by Geoff and Bridgette again. But why would he bring her here? He knew this was the path she always took to get to the bus —

Zoey suddenly stopped at the thought.

She watched as Vito pulled away and noticed Zoey staring at them in shock. For a moment their eyes met, holding a connection as they looked at each other.

Then Vito had the audacity to smirk at her, mouth pulling up in a cocky smile. His hands rested on Anne Maria’s hips and Zoey’s blood boiled.

She wanted to punch him. She wanted to punch him so bad, and she wanted to rip Anne Maria off him and yell and yell and yell until he made her shut up. But she knew what Vito would look like if she did that and Zoey would rather die than give him the satisfaction.

So instead Zoey clenched her fists, scoffed in annoyance, and brushed right past them with her head held high.

Zoey was jealous. Vito didn’t need to know that.

* * *

Chester (Winter)

Zoey was late, and she was dying.

The girl flies by pedestrians, red hair blowing out behind her as she runs down the sidewalk in a full sprint. Her legs burned and her lungs ached as she took heaving breaths of cold air.

It was one of those days in Canada where the air was so frigid it literally hurt to breathe, but the clouds still stubbornly clung to the snow that would fall later. She was late to her shift at work — too busy studying for classes after school — and had missed her bus, leaving her to wait for the second one impatiently.

Zoey burst into the shop. “I’m here!” She announced grandly.

Gwen looked up mid page-turn from her book at the register, observing the disarray that was Zoey. “You’re late,” she raised a judgemental brow.

“I know, sorry. I was just so caught up with school I lost track of time.” Zoey sighs, taking off her coat. Things would be so much easier for her if she had a ride … unfortunately, she and her ride had had a falling out a while ago and she doubted they would want to talk to her anytime soon.

Shaking off the negative thoughts, Zoey falls into the routine of getting ready. She worked at a small vintage shop that was tucked into the corner of the block for decades. Gwen had introduced it to her, and she had fallen in love with the still, older vibe of the place. Zoey was naturally attracted to older aesthetics, so it made sense that she fit in here.

Gwen and Zoey worked in tandem, attending to customers and working the register until people came in fewer and fewer. After a few hours, Zoey took a breath, checking her phone. Evening had come early, the sky turning a gorgeous shade of midnight blue outside.

Gwen reappeared from the back, bundled in a beanie and scarf. “I’m going to head out early. You okay with closing?”

Zoey smiled. “Of course,” she said, waving off Gwen’s guilty eyes. “Go have fun with Trent. I’ll see you at school.”

Gwen turned crimson, said a quick goodbye, then ran out the shop to the car parked outside at the curb. She slammed the door shut, and Zoey caught a quick glimpse of Trent waving at her before they took off.

Zoey sighed and started to close up. She was glad Gwen and Trent were back together after the rocky hardships that had actually led them to breaking up for a little bit. She wasn’t sure about the details of it — some jealousies and lack of communication — but she knew for sure that Gwen had found it hard to deal with her boyfriend's OCD, and struggled to manage it. She had confessed to Zoey about it, how she struggled to keep a normal relationship with Trent when his mental disorder was constantly interfering.

Gwen had come to her about that, asking for her advice about how to have a partner and manage their mental health, and Zoey had given it, feeling like a total hypocrite in the process.

The ding of the doorbell interrupts her thoughts, and Zoey looks up with an automatic smile to treat the last customer of the day before she freezes as she recognizes the person walking through the door.

Chester.

The alter shakes out his coat, wiping snow with a decisive sort of disdain off his cane. He looks up, takes note of Zoey’s unflattering stunned expression, and says, “Are you goin’ to be sittin’ there starin’ till my bones drop off or are you goin’ to make me some tea?”

Snapping out of it, Zoey blushes, rushing to make the drink under Chester's freezing glare. She sets down the pot, pouring the liquid into the cup as Chester grumbles before sitting down awkwardly.

“So,” Zoey manages to get her voice not to squeak. “How have you been, Chester?”

“Like you care,” Chester says gruffly and takes a sip of his tea. Perfect, just how it's always been. He and Zoey always had the same taste.

“I do care, that’s why I asked,” Zoey responds patiently. Without realizing it, her tone slips into the familiar, soothing, serenade that usually came out whenever Chester made a mean comment. “Just because we haven’t spoken in a while doesn’t mean I don’t wonder how you or everyone else is.”

Chester eyes her suspiciously, and Zoey finds herself randomly struck with how she sees him as Chester, and not Mike. To anyone else, it would look like a teenage boy was acting like an old man, but that wasn’t it. Chester hunched in on himself, and had crooked fingers that always itched for his cane; he subconsciously squinted in one eye and spoke with an inflection that Zoey never knew came from. Mike was the total opposite — he walked straight, but with a small slump in his spine as if to make himself less taller; he used enthusiastic hand motions and spoke loudly when excited. He didn't even like tea like Chester — he preferred juice.

“I’m as fine as these old bones can be in this weather,” Chester says after a moment.

“I see,” Zoey smiles. “You should stay inside and keep warm — what will happen if you slip and fall?” Even if Mike’s body was still young and strong, he had Chester’s psychology — so if he fell, he’d be in immense pain because he believed he had the bones of an old man and wouldn’t be able to get up on his own because of the psychological limits in Chester’s own mind.

“ ’s not like I meant to come out on my own,” Chester scowls. “The boy was already frustrated before that darn hooligan ran the red light while we were crossing. Nearly hit us too, that no good son of a —”

“You’re walking in this weather?” Zoey interrupts before he can go on his tirade. “What about your car?” Mike’s parents had bought him a car in the middle of autumn for passing his drivers test, a beat-up old thing. But still, Mike loved it, and the rest of his alters did too, taking it and driving it around to all their individual appointments.

It had been a fight for Mike to get his license — officials were too worried about him disassociating and switching out while he was driving — but thanks to his psychiatrist’s approval and his adopted parents pushing, he was finally able to get it. She can still remember how proudly Mike's eyes had shone when he first showed her his ID.

“Parents took it away,” Chester grunted. “He was switchin’ out with the rest of us too much.”

“Oh,” Zoey’s mouth felt dry. “I —”

“He's a mess without you, you know. They all are, those stupid young fools. But you should know, with what you said before.”

Zoey feels the words hit, like a sucker-punch to the gut. Her mind flashes back to the time when she asked Mike out. She had worn her favorite red halter top, with wildflower sticker tattoos stamped up her arm as she had rubbed it shyly. She had been so nervous; it had felt like the nerves her belly had turned into a livewire full of electric butterflies.

The words she’d said to him came back to her when he asked why she liked him.

"It's just that … the sort of mess you are ... has always felt like the sort of mess I am.”

How cruel of Chester to bring that up so suddenly. But then again, Chester never really had a problem with being cruel when he wanted to get his words across. Zoey found herself momentarily at a loss of words, stomach flipping in guilt. “That’s not … I didn’t …” What was she supposed to say? Sorry? As great at apologizing as she was, that felt too insensitive to say.

She was self-aware enough to know that she couldn’t keep her friendship with Mike, not after how much she’d hurt him. Maybe if they talked more, if she’d been more commutative …

The familiar sting of tears building up mortifies Zoey and she hides her face behind her hand, squeezing her eyes shut. That only makes it worse as the pressure causes a few wayward drops to slip out. God no, she wouldn’t cry in front of Chester, she wouldn’t …

Zoey waits for the sound of disgust that should be coming from him, a grumble about how sentimental young people were, but —

Something soft touches her cheek and she looks up to see Chester avoiding her eyes, holding out a handkerchief. She sniffles, taking it from his hand and unceremoniously scrubbing her eyes as hard as she can.

“You want to help everyone. You're too sweet to be alone,” Chester says gruffly. “Too dependent on others. You’d save a houseplant if you thought it could be your friend.”

Zoey lets out a choked laugh, not sure if she should be amused or offended at the words. “I just — I thought I'd get over it by now. We weren't even together that long anyways.”

Chester stared at her. “Why do ya still miss him? You’re the one that left.”

Zoey stares down into her cup, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Sometimes you don't get a choice. You think about someone ... a lot.” After she broke up with Mike, she had hoped that that would be the last of it. That he would fade into the background of all the other students, and that the only thing left would be a bittersweet memory.

But no. He still lingers, in her heart and in her mind. He was a bolt out of the blue, and a catastrophe that shakes her to the core. She could go about her day just like any other, and like a habit, she'd think of him.

“That’s what happens when ya give up on somethin’ ya care about. You grieve it just as much as you loved it.”

Zoey glances up at Chester before looking away again.

“What do I do now?” She whispers.

Chester takes a sip of his tea. “Ya know what you did wrong. Ya know what ya wanna change. The only thing that you can do now is try to be better next time around.”

Zoey blinks, the bowstring tightness drawn around her shoulders loosening at his words. She gazes into the mug like it holds all the answers, thoughts swirling around her head like a whirlwind. The fears and insecurities still weighed in her consciousness but now — although tentative — resolve was there as well.

She took a sip of her tea as well, chamomile lingering on her tongue. She could still try.

She wanted to try.

* * *

Svetlana (Winter)

Zoey watches on the sidelines as Svetlana dances on the ice, lost in her own music. The scrapes of ice against her blades are the only sound in the rink. It's completely empty, which she felt fortunate for because now Svetlana can completely focus on her routine while Zoey sits on the sidelines.

Svetlana skates by again, arms moving like the wind, somehow making the most complicated movements look like the easiest thing in the world.

She was intricately beautiful, and Zoey can’t take her eyes off her. Even with all the inner turmoil in her head, she can’t help but stop and stare at her. She knew this place — here, on the ice rink — was where Svetlana belonged. Skating was her passion, and the movements of the dance were her religion. The air rushing by her ears could clear her head more than any words can, and Zoey knows that she is the reason why Svetlana is out on the ice.

The cold bites her fingers numb and brings a rosy color to her cheeks, stinging like a slap. Zoey didn’t bring gloves with her, a self-inflicting punishment for what is to come. If this was, perhaps, a month ago, she would have been out on the ice with her, sliding on her skates and trying to catch up to Svetlana. Laughter would be echoing throughout the rink as she kept on slipping, not the void of silence now between them.

She couldn't do it anymore.

She could feel her mind fracturing the more she was stretched thin.

She was just so tired. She couldn't handle it. Dating five personalities, each with their own individual traumas, was too much. The stress, the insecurities, the fears were piling up and she just wanted a break.

She thinks (or hopes, maybe) that the others can sense it — her pulling away. It was cowardly, but she hoped that they would willingly drift off into the sea of faces in the school so that Zoey wouldn’t be able to say anything at all.

Svetlana dances across the ice, blissfully lost in her own winter wonderland and slows to a stop. She opens her eyes and catches Zoey’s. She isn’t quite sure what look reads in her gaze, but Svetlana doesn’t skate forward and close the seemingly sudden large gap between them.

Zoey was gonna break her heart. Take the fragile organ that all of the alters held so dear and shatter it into a million pieces.

* * *

Manitoba (Fall)

Manitoba pulled her along by her hand, dragging her to wherever he was taking her. She honestly had no clue. Mike had switched when he was in gym class, and the now-present Manitoba Smith had promptly ditched and went to seek Zoey out, even though she was in a different class at the time.

It had been … an experience to find out about Mike’s alters. She had known that he had some sort of disorder, because he always seemed to have a pink slip note of visiting the counselor’s office. It wasn’t until Mike had told her about his Multiple Personality Disorder —or Dissociative Identity Disorder, as Cameron often corrected— and Cameron had explained what it was when she suddenly understood.

Apparently, back at his old school, Mike had been severely bullied for his disorder and was often called a freak. Monster. Jekyll and Hyde. It had enraged Zoey beyond reason. She herself had been picked on for being different back in her old town, and she knew how much words could hurt.

When he came here, Mike’s plan of laying low was shot when he saw Duncan, who recognized him when they were in juvie, and from Scott, who had wrangled the truth from Cameron with slightly unethical means. Because it was a small school, the information traveled around the grapevine. Nobody batted an eye. Wawanaka High, if nothing else, was filled with eccentric people.

Mike had explained that he didn’t tell her about his personalities sooner because he was afraid she would think he was a freak, but Zoey had simply laughed and told him how much she loved oddballs. But secretly, she was nervous. She had no idea on how to handle his alters, or his trauma that sometimes arose at the most random things. It had been weird, and scary, and confusing, to see the boy she liked (like … really liked), acting like someone else entirely. His posture, his voice, his entire attitude did a complete turn around, and she didn’t know how to handle it.

“Why are you dragging me out of class?” Zoey complains. “We have midterms coming up, and—”

“You’re focusing on the wrong things, treasure!” Manitoba laughs. Zoey trips at the nickname. “You only live once! Why not make this one worth living with adventure!”

Easy for him to say. Mike was the only one who had to focus on school grades and studying. All the others were there for fun.

Manitoba leads them up the stairs to the roof and Zoey withdraws when she sees the Emergency Exit plastered on the doorway.

“Wait, what are you doing?!”

“Huh?”

“You’ll set off the fire alarm!”

Manitoba laughs like she’s said something cute. He opens the doorway to the rooftop and Zoey holds her breath, waiting for the alarms to start. When there is nothing, she lets it out almost disappointedly. A dud.

Manitoba doesn’t let go of her hand as they walk onto the roof and Zoey doesn’t pull away either as she looks around. So this is where Manitoba went whenever Mike switched out with him. Since Mike had a full-time pass to the counselor’s, he was technically obligated to go there whenever he felt like he was about to dissociate, but he and the others never did. She knows that for a fact because the other alters have been caught trying to leave school (Vito and Manitoba mostly) and now Zoey finally knows where one of them disappears.

Zoey can’t help but stare at him while his back is towards her.

She liked to keep busy. Needed to, really, because then she can ignore the persistent loneliness that ached whenever she was alone in a house that was too big for only her. So she made friends, joined clubs, and studied hard. She took it as a challenge when Cameron had asked if she would date any of the alters since she was dating Mike. If her boyfriend had more parts of himself then she wanted to know them as well.

And she liked them, too. Zoey didn’t doubt that before long she would like them just as much as she liked Mike. Svetlana had a beautiful soul and Zoey loved spending time with her. Manitoba was wild but captivating and she could feel herself getting used to him as well. Vito was coming around as well, taking her on drives whenever possible. She was slowly finding the gaps in Chester’s prickly nature and she remained a polite distance with the ever-elusive Mal.

There were doubts, perhaps, that she had been too hopeful. Not that she would ever think Mike a freak, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she had bitten off more than she could chew. If she was truly the right person to handle this. Zoey had her own problems and insecurities, and she could admit that she was prone to keeping it in due to her upbringing — unlike Mike, who knew how to communicate thanks to his training with his therapist.

“You get quiet when you’re stressed.”

She blinks, broken out of her thoughts due to Manitoba’s casual remark.

“Sorry,” she said. “I think more in my head than aloud.”

“I know, love.”

Zoey is glad Manitoba doesn’t comment on the small jerk she makes at his nickname and her furious blush. It was still embarrassing to get used to the others’ affection.

“Now, get on the ledge, Sheila.”

Zoey raises a brow.

Manitoba’s mouth curved into a smirk. “’Course, if you’re feeling afraid I’ll have no problem holding onto a beautiful—”

Maybe it was because of the thought of Manitoba thinking that she was weak or too afraid or boring to do it, but before she thought about it she grabbed onto the metal bars separating her from the ledge and leaped over them. Her converse hit the other side and Zoey spun around to face open air. The wind wasn’t too bad, but if she let go of the bar it would only take a push to send her careening to her death.

Zoey glanced over her shoulder, a smile tugging at her lips. “You were saying?”

Manitoba gazed at her, none of his usual cockiness in his eyes. “Look.”

She's never had a fear of heights, so she isn't afraid when she stares down at the world. Trees dappled with red, orange, and gold leaves lined the block of houses they adorned. The cars looked like toys on the winding road, the people so small they looked like ants. She hears Manitoba jump on the ledge to join her but doesn't turn her head.

“Wrong place, Shiela.”

“What?” Zoey asks. She turns to look at Manitoba only to see him watching her already.

“You’re looking in the wrong place.”

Without any further comment, he takes her chin and gently lifts it up so her gaze shifts upwards. Away from the town and to the world beyond that. Midnight-colored lakes, rolling plains, and forests stretching as far as the eye can see. And even farther, mountains peaking towards the blue sky, desperate to touch the clouds.

The air rushed out of her in her next breath.

And suddenly, Zoey understood what Manitoba was trying to make her get. There was a whole world out there. A whole country, and whole continent, even, and Zoey was still lost in her head. Her problems seemed like nothing in the grand scheme of things, and Zoey was just letting her life pass her by because she let them consume her.

She stands on the edge of the rooftop. Wind brushes along her skin, causing goosebumps to rise along her arm, but Zoey doesn’t say anything. She didn’t bring her jacket, and Manitoba wasn’t wearing one either. Even if he was, she doubted she would ask for it. She stands on the ledge, making no move to shield herself from the wind and looks at the Canadian wilderness in front of them.

She tips her head back and closes her eyes, the wind making the loose strands of her hair fly around her. Her feet felt rooted to her place, but she imagines herself as free as a bird. She could taste the tantalizing weight of wilderness on her tongue and wants.

So Zoey stands, and stares, and breathes.

* * *

Mike (Fall)

Zoey walked into her last class of the day, Chemistry. It had taken her a while to find the classroom, so most of the tables were filled up. She spotted Lightning in the back showing off with Cody staring up with adoring eyes. Noah was on the other side of the class, rolling his eyes at the antics before burying his nose in his book.

Apprehension pooled her gut. She didn’t know who to sit by and barely knew anyone. The class was mainly filled with seniors she only knew by name with only a handful of juniors she had never spoken to.

Zoey feels sick. She wants to walk right out. Why was her social anxiety starting to act up now?

She spots a boy sitting with a table to himself, a giant bookbag next to him. He’s hunched over, like he wasn’t used to the open air around him, and is wearing thick glasses and a giant red hoodie that hide nothing with how scrawny he is. Zoey is surprised to see him have such a big bag, seeing as how the boy is basically twigs it looks like even the weight of a butterfly could knock him over.

He seemed like the safest bet to sit next to.

Zoey walks towards the small boy — anxiety trembling in her bones — and gives him a nice smile, trying to appear more confident than she truely was.

“Hi!” She greets cheerfully. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

The boy jolts so hard that he nearly topples to the floor. “Oh! Yeah, sure! No problem!” He eagerly swipes all his belongings off the side of the table to make room for her.

“Thanks,” she says, taking a seat. Continue the conversation, ask questions rings in her head from all the How-To-Make-Friends podcasts she had obsessively listened to over the summer. “I don't think I've ever seen you around before. Are you a freshman?”

The boy lights up, and soon he is talking a mile a minute. His name is Cameron, and he's sixteen like her — which surprised her, given his small stature — but this is his first year of attending Wawanakwa High after being homeschooled all his life. Apparently his mother was obsessively overprotective of her only son and as a result, Cameron was what was known as a “bubble boy”. He was sweet though, and eager, even though he lacked any real world experience he was quite knowledgeable in academics.

By the time Cameron kindly offers her some hand sanitizer, Zoey is estatic to find that she has made her first real friend of the year.

Their conversation comes to a natural lull and Zoey busies herself organizing her backpack and pulling out the notebook she will need for the class.

Officially, chemistry should have already started, but none of the seniors pause in their continuous chatter and after waiting for another awkward couple of minutes, Cameron turns and asks a senior, Courtney, where the teacher was. The honors student makes a face, nose wrinkling in a way that makes her freckles scrunch cutely and responds, “Our teacher is Blainely. She never shows up to class on time, no matter how much Principal McLean complains.”

A desk over, a girl named Heather with beautiful, glossy long hair, scoffs in a way that shows her just how much she’s a fan of their teacher and goes back to filing her nails. Zoey wants to compliment her on her hair, but something primal very deep inside of her tells her that any word spoken to her would be met with a nasty comment on her hair.

She goes back to doodling on her own notebook before all of the sudden the door slams open and a harried teen rushes in. He’s holding a pink slip that meant he was coming from the office, and after seeing that the teacher is nowhere in sight, looks for a table.

He lights up as he sees the only open seat on Cameron’s other side and hurries towards it, practically dumping all his belongings on the table as he collapses in his seat.

“Hey,” he says, running his fingers through his spiky hair. “Did class start yet?”

Cameron shook his head no.

“Really? But didn’t class start like —” he glances at the clock, “— ten minutes ago?”

“Well, our teacher for this class is Ms. Blainely, and I heard she doesn't care about tardiness because she's always late.” Zoey reports back what Courtney said to her.

“Can’t see why,” the boy responds flippantly. “We’re as pleasant as all the teachers in the school.”

Zoey feels her cheeks pull up in a grin and she giggles. “Nice to meet you. I’m —”

Blainely slams through the door of her classroom like a typhoon of bravado and too-much confidence for a teacher who was late to her own class by ten minutes. “Alright, you little brats, it’s time for Chemistry!” She sing-songs.

There’s a thunk from behind of Bridgette slamming her head into her table and her deskmate Lindsay sympathetically pats her on the back. A few tables over, Heather fake gags.

Blainely, in her true, characteristic nonchalant fashion, tells them to have at it in mixing the chemicals after barely skimming the safety protocols and handing out labs.

Her, Cameron, and their new teammate work in tandem together, like they’re a well-oiled machine. He cracks jokes with Cameron and laughs with Zoey, and she feels her cheeks getting sore with how much she's grinning.

She hasn't had this much fun in a long time. Their new teammate is charismatic. And cute. And nice. Zoey didn’t really have a type, but if she did …

Well. It would probably be him.

From over Cameron’s head where he’s chattering, Zoey chances a peek at the boy to see him already watching her. Her heart leaps in surprise and she can’t help but stare at him even after he quickly glances away. Does she have pen ink on her face? It wouldn’t be the first time. Zoey opens her mouth to ask, but before she could —

The bell rings.

The students stir and begin packing their bags with vigor, chatter filling the air as the last class of the day is finished. Cameron bids them goodbye and leaves quickly, and Zoey waves as he practically sprints towards the door, saying something about his mom picking him up.

She spots the boy beginning to pack his bag with the new chemistry papers and realizes amongst all the fun they had together, she has yet to learn his name.

“Hey,” Zoey smiles over the space at the boy. “My name is Zoey.”

The boy blinks, then gives her this big, beautiful, beaming grin that seemed to light up his entire face. Zoey feels her heart skip a beat, then trip and stumble and crash against her ribcage at the sight of it. Oh boy.

“I'm … Mike.”

* * *

#total drama #total drama fanfic #total drama au #td zoke #td zoey #td mike #td mal #td vito #td chester #td svetlana #td manitoba #high school #breakups #getting back together #wanted to try a new style so timeline starts backwards hope you can understand it T_T #I’ve never dated before so forgive any inaccuracies pls #Zoey loves and learns shes a 16 year old girl so i better not see any bitchin

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skulla-rxcks · 2 years ago

Text

I C E C U B E S

Paring: Changbin x AFAB reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: ice play, p^ssy eating

Day 10 of k-tober

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

“Since the weathers getting warmer I wanna try something new” I smile, hugging Changbin and nuzzling into his neck.

“What is it?” He asks. “How’d you feel about experimenting with.. ice play.”

My cheeks turn red as I suggest it to him, wondering what he’ll respond with. “Oh? If you’re sure about this, I can’t ever resist trying out new things.”

He smirks, taking my clothes off piece by piece until I’m fully nude on the couch. “I’m not sure how cold the ice is but we’ll see.”

He walks over to the fridge and opens the freezer compartment under it; getting a couple of ice cubes.

“You ready for this baby?” Changbin chuckles and gets between my legs, making them wrap around his waist. “Tell me if it gets too much, okay?” I nodd, squeezing my eyes as I feel the cold cube brush over my nipple, getting the pink bud hard In an instant.

“mmgh.. cold..” I whimper, my back arching slightly from the pleasure. “lay down flat, I wanna see if this works.”

He says, slightly pulling away from me so his face is between my thighs,

I hear the click as he puts some ice cubes in his mouth, he slowly begins to lick between my folds; making sure the ice is on the tip of his tongue as he does so.

“Ahh..nnng Binnie..” I moan as I begin to grind my hips against his face. “Shh..” He giggles, taking another ice cub and rubbing it across my nipples again while still eating me out with the cold ice in his mouth. “s-shit.. cold..” The pleasure and numbness that Changbin and the ice is giving me is enough to make me get pushed closer towards my orgasm.

“Mm.. mmhm.. are you.. close? Mm..” He asks picking up what’s happening right away as his words are muffled by my cunt and the ice. “M-mhm.. Y-yes!” I moan in response to his question, my insides twisting in pleasure as I finally orgasm.

Binnie eats the remaining ice in his mouth before clearing his throat to speak. “Seems like you enjoyed that, later do you wanna try doing something similar on me? I’m curious on how it felt now.”

#~skulla rxcks #stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #binnie smut #changbin smut

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catapparently · 1 year ago

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Malina and or Kanej HCs pleaseeeeee

My boos I miss them all ty <333

Kanej Headcanons

I'll do Kanej because despite having read the books, I'm honestly not really familiar with Mal's character and therefore not likely to write something accurate.

Also sorry not sorry this is half angst because it's Kanej

First of all, they both think the other deserves someone better/more suited to them;

Inej knows that Kaz needs someone who'd be willing to be with him despite not being able to touch. He needs someone with patience and who wouldn't mind waiting forever for him.

On the other side, Kaz thinks Inej OVERALL deserves someone better than him, someone who would be able to hold her, comfort her, kiss her...

Despite that, if Inej ever gets approached romantically by another man, Kaz will beat him up later, threaten the dude's mother, then frame him for a murder Kaz committed and get him sent to Hellgate, far far away from Inej

Inej doesn't ever worry or get jealous over Kaz speaking to other girls because she knows he wouldn't be interested in a million years

Ok so we all remember when Inej said “I will have you without armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all.” and Kaz didn't budge, basically a silent painful rejection

Inej said that because she 99.99% knew that Kaz wouldn't instantly take off his "armor" for her

She WANTED him to "reject" her because her goal was to go hunt slavers, far far away from Kaz

Sure, they could send letters, but they could never be genuine in the letters lest someone intercepts them and finds out Kaz's weakness

As long as there wasn't an unspoken "rejection" between them, Inej wouldn't feel completely free to leave after the whole Ice court heist and all

Obviously she will still love him, but she needed a way to let go of that attachment enough to go and follow her dreams

Inej thinks about Kaz every single day since she left him

She's always reminded of him in every single thing she does or thinks;

"That's exactly what Kaz would say/do"

Inej goes to visit Kaz in Ketterdam whenever she passes by with her ship

Whenever she leaves again, Kaz sends her off with a pair of gloves or a coat of his

After the events in Rule of Wolves, when Zoya tasks Kaz with finding the heart of St. Feliks (I think that's the name?), Inej was the first person he asked for intel. Since she travels around so much she surely heard something

Of course, when he's going outside of Ketterdam for jobs or other stuff, Inej is the one who takes him on her ship. He wouldn't trust anyone else

Inej once said a few affectionate words in Suli to him and Kaz immediately searched through all of his contacts for someone to translate it for him

Inej once stole a wealthy slaver's fancy watch and brought it back to Kaz;

Not because Kaz needed yet another one but more as a symbol that she was still what Kaz made her.

When Kaz bought her the ship, he made the captain's room look like a better version of her room at the Slat so that she would always have a reminder of him and the Crows

Because her "magic slippers" got burnt while scaling the incinerator in SoC, Kaz got her a nice pair of more practical boots and commissioned yet another Fabrikator to modify the soles and make them excellent for climbing

Kaz made Wylan work on cannon blueprints until they were perfect and had them installed

He basically went all out with that ship

Inej got a little tattoo that said "the Crow" with "The Wraith" under it on her back despite her issue with branding

She didn't get it as a label, she got it as a reminder of who she was

"the Wraith" was everything the Menagerie's Suli lynx wasn't. For Inej, the tattoo was a symbol of her strength

Kaz didn't know

He found that out when one day, she came to visit him and was wearing a backless top;

He'd gotten (stolen) a necklace for her and she asked him to put it on for her;

At first Kaz was really hesitant but he *GASP* took off his gloves, and gently brushed her hair out of the way and that's when he saw the little tattoo

This man FROZE and didn't even realize his UNGLOVED index finger was tracing her bare skin along the lines of the tattoo

When he realized it he quickly stopped and hurriedly clasped the necklace around her neck

He still isn't over his touch aversion, but he's doing better. He still quickly stepped back though, putting some distance in between them

He noticed the faintest flush on Inej's cheeks and that's how he knew she still loved him, he felt relief in knowing so

These days, amongst Kaz's men, the Wraith is a myth. They don't know that Inej is gone, they think she's always there in the shadows, spying and reporting back to Kaz

Only the OGs know the truth

To Kaz, this was a way of forever having a piece of her within the gang

I hope these are to your liking!!! It's hard to write Kanej without angst

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cillianmurphysdimples · 1 month ago

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Ahh loved the little snippet of Clee as a teen! Her dynamic with Cillian was so cute, he's such a good dad 🥹

Could you write Clíodhna having the typical tween outburst during a fight with her dad and yelling at Cillian that she hates him (which she doesn't mean, obviously, she's just angry and going through puberty) and Cillian feeling so hurt by it, knowing it was a teen thing, but hearing that struck a nerve? And Clee feeling so bad about it when she calms down and apologizing?

Aw thanks I'm glad you liked that. Let's give your request a go.

"And I said no, Clíodhna. You're fourteen years old!" Cillian shakes his head, and his temper is there in the back of his voice but he's somehow holding it down just enough to not speak to her the way he does to you. You're all in the kitchen and Clíodhna's plans, you can see, are clearly falling apart.

"Clíodhna, you've had your answer. You're not going into the city on a school night until that hour." You shake your head, firmly on Cillian's side. Clíodhna had gone to him with her request to join friends, assuming she could get her way with her Daddy.

"And you're sixty three!" Clíodhna snaps back at Cillian. "I bet you let Mal and Aran do things! You never let me do anything!" She stamps her foot as she folds her arms across her chest.

Cillian's right eyebrow rises as he turns to look at you, and he shakes his head as he looks back at your daughter, still staring at him with a huff on her face. "You'd be losing your money if you place that bet, leanbh." Cillian says, and his half-serious smirk seems to enrage Clíodhna.

She growls loudly and thrusts both arms down at her sides, "Ah! This house is like a dictatorship! You never let me do anything! What's the point in having a Dad who plays cool people on films if he's a bastard when he's at home?" She flips entirely, and your jaw drops a little as Cillian simply lets her fly with it - that is until her final words are uttered. "God, I hate it here. And I hate you!" She roars towards Cillian as she storms past and stamps the whole way up the stairs.

You turn to Cillian as Clíodhna's bedroom door slams upstairs. "She didn't mean that." You say quickly.

Cillian quirks his head and raises both eyebrows, "Oh, she meant it." He sighs. "I know it's just her age, but she fairly hits the fucking spot she wants it to." He looks at you with such a sad expression, you feel awful. You hold out your arms and move closer to him. He wraps his arms quickly around you, nestling his chin on your shoulder as he always does. Your left hand goes up to the back of his head and your fingers curl into the silver curls at the nape of his neck. "It'd nearly forgot what it was like having hormonal teenagers about the place," he scoffs.

"She really doesn't mean it, love, you know she doesn't. You're her Magic Daddy, you know that." You say and squeeze him tighter.

It's an hour before Clíodhna reappears, and it's only because you call up to her for dinner. But as she does reach the bottom of the stairs, her face is a little pink and she's pulling the same 'forgive me and love me' face that Cillian does when he's wrong. Pouting lips, sad imploring eyes, apple-round cheeks accentuated by the pout. You can't help smirking, and you nudge Cillian - standing at the cooker - and gesture towards your approaching daughter.

Cillian turns and raises his eyebrows, "Washed your hands?" He asks. He hasn't reminded her to wash her hands before she eats since she was nine but he's clearly looking for an ice breaker.

Clíodhna's slow walk disappears in favour of flinging herself at Cillian. She pushes her face into his chest and wraps her arms around his entire chest. "I don't hate you, um...um...I'm-I'm sorry Daddy," she says. Oh, she's cracked out the Daddy... That's reserved for begging and pleading, usually, so you wonder if it's to appeal to his better nature right now. But then she sobs a little, and you realise it isn't manipulative at all - she's genuinely embarrassed of her words and needs Cillian to hear her apology.

Cillian wraps his arms around her back tightly. He drops his chin and kisses the top of her head. "Thank you, Clíodhna." He whispers against her hair. "I love you, always, okay?"

Clíodhna nods into his shirt. "I love you too, Daddy."

#asks #anon #my fic #my fic: we got issues

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myreia · 1 year ago

Text

wip whenever

tagged by @galadae and @coldshrugs, thank you! 💖

tagging @bearlytolerant, @thevikingwoman, @impossible-rat-babies, @hylfystt, @allaganexarch, @birues & @roguelioness.

I'm lost in an Echo scene from Chapter 5, Aureia's family sucks. ✌️Stormblood spoilers-ish.

Laughter hums on Elgara’s lips and she returns to her paperwork with smooth, controlled movements. Kallias has always been easy to rile up. It is his greatest weakness—and it is easy to exploit.

“That possessive streak will be the end of you,” she says, tutting lightly. “Go about it then, if you’re so inclined. You don’t need my permission. I’m sure the legatuses would be overjoyed to hear of the death of the Warrior of Light. Perhaps if you offer them proof, they would even reward you.”

He snarls under his breath and bites his tongue, his riposte contained.

“Or does the thought give you pause? Do you fear, perhaps, that you aren’t strong enough? Is that why you’ve come here, crawling back to your mother, riddled with doubt and uncertainty?”

“I don’t doubt, I—”

Elgara sets her pen aside and rises from her chair, unfurling to her full height. She towers above her son, casting a long shadow across the observation deck’s floor. “Kira has something you don’t,” she says. “She has had it her whole life, it is what made her unique. Special. An asset. Your father and I sought to tap it, but we did not have the knowledge or the foresight to understand what we were dealing with. But Aulus mal Asina did. He was a visionary. And someone must continue his work.”

Red. Blue. Red. Blue.

The lights cycle, flashing over Elgara and Kallias, casting them into darkness. The solider inhales once more, her breath as sharp as ice. She presses herself against the door, gazing inwards, her form unnoticed in the shadows. A shiver ran down her spine at the mention of Aulus’ name. She recalls him, of course she does. She remembers his youth when she met him near two decades ago, bright-eyed and intense, speaking theories dismissed by his superiors as fanciful dreams at best and psychosis at worst. It was he who first spoke of Echoes and Resonants, of gifting the Garlean people the ability to control aether.

She recalls what he did to Krile. What he did to Fordola… and Zenos, too.

How his life ended, screeching about data and souls with his dying breath on the floor of the Ala Mhigan palace. Forgotten and abandoned by the prince he had devoted himself to.

His research, as he called it, should have ended there.

Inside the observation room, Elgara approaches her son step by dreaded step. She may be no soldier, and yet she engulfs him. Outmatches him. Outwits him. Kallias is no small man, and yet compared to her imposing height he is so small. So insignificant.

“Don’t you see, Kal?” she says, her voice low and strangely soothing in its intensity. The voice of someone who can lull others into implicit trust by the sheer power of command and self-assurance. “Kira is a liability, but liabilities can be exploited. Her usefulness to Garlemald has not ended. You wish to kill her; I will not doubt your thirst for vengeance, it is more than understandable. But think on it. Kill her and we lose her forever.”

He grunts, the panicked sound strangled in his throat. “Have you forgotten what she’s done, mother? What she—”

“Shh.” She arrives before him and places a hand to his chin. It’s a gentle gesture; on anyone else it would be caring. But on her it is empty, a gesture of inspection and observation. “Capture her and our opportunities are thrown wide. We can reclaim what we have lost, you and I. Theorzen will be a name to be respected; no longer will it be spat upon like the rest.”

He closes his eyes, his expression still.

“You deserve more than the lot you have been given, Kallias. And she can gift you the strength you deserve to carry. The skills and talents that should have gone to you. A transference. A replication. A Resonant of your very own, one derived from the Warrior of Light. With it, you can have your vengeance. With it, you can outmatch even Zenos himself.”

His eyelids flutter and he grimaces, lip curling back. Then he crumples into her and clings, shoulders shuddering with the aftershock of silent tears. In this moment, there is no sign of the operative and the spy. In this moment, he is a child coming home.

It makes the soldier’s blood boil. Lost in her anger, she slips and cracks her forehead against the door, helmet banging against the glass. Her vision blurs red and her knees give out from under her. When she finally clears her vision, she finds herself huddles on the stairwell floor, looking in as Elgara enfolds her son into her embrace.

A spike of jealousy flares in the pit of her stomach. Unwanted. Unneeded. Unexplained.

She curses her inability to do anything but observe.

Elgara cradles him, a hand resting against the back of his head, stroking his matted hair. “Bring your sister to me, Kal,” she croons. “Bring her to me and I can make it happen. I wish for it to happen. It should have been you all along.”

Kallias stills. His expression hardens, his lips pressed firm together. Slowly, one by one his fingers lift as he loosens his grip. The danger and the malice return, blazing bright in his red eyes. “No,” he breathes.

#ffxiv #writing tag

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thebluestbluewords · 2 years ago

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Teeth are overrated anyway

"Congrats." Mal says quietly. She does, in fact, know how to have some tact, sometimes. "Heard you made the team."

Carlos rolls his head to the side so he can talk to something that's not the tightly curled space between his own knees. "I punched a kid so hard he threw up." he says softly. Like it's a confession.

"And? I bet that fucker deserved it."

"Not really."

In Mal’s expert opinion, they all deserve it. Every kid who shoulder checks them in the hall just because they're there, every girl who won't look at Evie while she crushes their test scores, everyone who comes to Mal when they want something and ices her out when they don't, they all deserve it. Every kid who's ever taken a sharpie to their doors to tell them how worthless they are, they deserve it tenfold, and if one of them took a punch to the gut while wearing practice armor, it's nothing compared to what Mal would do to them given half the chance.

"I promise you, they really did," Mal says. "You punched one kid. I've punched how many now?"

Carlos laughs. It's not funny. "Fourteen."

Right. Out of all the ways their families fucked them up, he got the obsessive kind of guilt tracking. Preventative evidence, because the adults who want them gone will totally listen to a timestamped, cross-referenced spreadsheet of all the times they've actually fucked up, instead of whatever imagined crimes they're actually going to get sent back over. The spreadsheet's very existence is incriminating, and it could be bad if it gets into the wrong hands, but anybody who's able to get into three layers of password-protected sub-folders deserves the hex they'll get for snooping, and will probably feel too guilty (hopefully) to use it properly against them anyway. It won’t matter. The adults who care about them won't be able to override the ones who fabricate crimes they didn't even do, and one spreadsheet, even with locked timestamps for every edit, won't do much against a royal word.

Whatever. Everyone has their own coping mechanisms.

"Fourteen," Mal echoes back. "That's a lot fucking more than one, and I'm still here."

His head makes a solid noise against the wood. "You're different. People like you."

Mal can't stop the scornful noise she makes at that one, but she can pick her next words wisely.

Tread carefully, fearless leader. There's no coming back from this one.

"I think," she says slowly, inching her way closer. "That you are severely overestimating how much people like me, fleabrain."

Carlos makes a soft noise. He's listening, which is score one for Mal.

"I'm not some perfect princess who never does anything wrong. Obviously." Fourteen classmates with black eyes and bloody noses. Fourteen people who won't speak ill of her crew again. "I just keep trying, and I guess the Auradonians here are too stupid to realize that we're a bunch of lost causes. Their mistake, right?"

"Right," Carlos whispers. "They're the ones who keep making mistakes."

Hm. It's the right energy, but maybe not quite the right words.

"We deserve better than their scraps," Mal says, low and serious and warming to her cause now. "We deserve at least as much as they give their own stupid children, and if their noble-born brats can keep fucking up over and over, then we deserve at least as many chances as they get. We deserve our place here, and if they haven't kicked me out after punching fourteen people. they're sure as shit not going to kick you out over punching one."

"Right."

Mal can feel the heat of Carlos's body next to hers now, so close they could be touching. "Of course I'm right. And besides, why would they let you on the team if they're going to kick you off right after? It'd be a drain on their time and resources, and they're not gonna waste energy on us if they don't need to. You're stuck on that team whether you like it or not, dumbass."

Carlos laughs. It's not exactly a happy sound, but it's closer than before. "I didn't want to join. I fuckin' hate organized sports."

"Ah, like how I didn't want to join the equestrian club, and Evie dragged me to the meeting under false premises and wouldn't let me leave without petting a horse?"

"Like that," he agrees, and finally tips his head onto Mal's shoulder. "I didn't want to do the second round of tryouts, but they're down a man since Aza broke his ankle, so Coach called everyone on the backup rotation in for a test scrimmage."

"Let me guess, some shithead tried to pull shit because you're tiny, and you rage slammed him into the fuckin' dust?"

Mal can feel the warm gust of his sigh on her neck this time, and it feels like what home must be for other people. "Yup. Pretty much."

Weird.

“I thought coach was all about controlling your power," Mal says, thinking out loud from a half-remembered conversation she’d had with Jay a few nights ago. “Guess he's some sort of filthy hypocrite who only means that for the big guys, huh."

Carlos shakes his head. His hair is a soft, static-y mess that sticks to her cheek from the friction. She's going to be pulling handfuls out of her mouth later, but it's fine for now. "Nah. He wants people who aren't afraid of full contact. Apparently he's playing some sort of psych-out game with one of the other teams, and he's pretty sure I'm unassuming enough that they'll never see it coming."

"So he wants you to punch more people?" Mal asks incredulously. She may be bad at teams, and organized sports, and anything that involves running for more than a few minutes at a time, but a school-sanctioned chance to punch people might be worth making a stink about starting a girl's team over. "Sounds like a fuckin' sweet deal to me."

“I—“ Carlos starts.

Somebody pounds on the closet door, and his mouth snaps shut so fast Mal can hear the click.

"Hey, if you two are done having a heart-to-heart in there, some of us wanna get to dinner on time!" Jay calls through the door. "Toss me out some shoes if you're skipping and I'll tell Verne you're both sick."

Mal shoves open the door without waiting, and is rewarded with a satisfying 'oof' as the handle hits Jay in the stomach. "We were almost done, dumbass. You can't wait five minutes for us to strategize the best way for me to get in on this school-sanctioned hitting people shit?"

Jay grins down at her, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Nope." he says brightly, popping the 'p'. "Dinner waits for no man, and I'm not missing out on bread just cause you two decided it was the right time to have a gossip sesh in my closet."

"Ow," Mal grumbles, unfolding herself from the floor. "Fuck you, who told you that gossip sesh was a word people actually use?"

Jay steps back to let her out, still grinning infuriatingly. "Lonnie."

Mal's going to sneak into that girl's room and dye all her clothes pink.

No, she'd probably like that. Purple, then. An unflattering purple. One of those periwinkles that's so blue it doesn't deserve to share a name with the perfect purples that Mal herself wears. Perfect.

"I'm going to make you both suffer," Mal informs him. "I'll dye all your clothes black."

"Ooh, you think I'd look hot goth?" Jay shoots back, reaching past Mal to give Carlos a hand up. "Do your worst, killer. I already bribed your girlfriend. She said I'm her favorite model now."

"You did not."

"Did so."

"Nobody bribed me with anything!" Evie calls from the boy's bathroom. "Jay's a better model than you because he knows how to hold still, M."

"Nobody ever asks me to model," Carlos grumbles. Unlike Mal, he looks like he's comfortable standing upright, which is deeply unfair. "I'd be great at it."

Evie sticks her head out of the bathroom. She's holding a hot curling wand to her hair, but her makeup is already on and impeccable for their teacher-student dinner tonight. "That's because you're already my favorite, baby. No matter how many people you've punched."

Carlos flashes her a tiny, blink-and-you've-missed-it smile. It’s worth it. All the time in the world would be worth it to see that smile again. “Thanks, E."

"Yeah, for nothing," Mal grumbles, twisting back and forth until her back pops. "What am I, moldy fish heads? I just spent half an hour twisted up in a closet, I want good girlfriend credit too."

Evie laughs. "The fact that you call it girlfriend credit means you could never really stay in that closet, babe. You get all the girlfriend points."

#my fic #descendants #descendants fic #this is probably ot4 #but it’s mostly #gen fic #mal bertha #carlos de vil #i have some thoughts about how this school actually functions and an unfortunate number of those thoughts are about sports teams #like how did we go from ‘have you thought about band’ to ‘he’s like my brain’???#what happened in between to get this sportsball team functioning as a team #so this is loosely my take on that #and also about the enduring need to sit in a dark room and not interact with people after stressful situations #like when u accidentally rage blackout and punch a kid and think you’re going to be sent back into exile because he started puking #just normal stuff y’know

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booksrbetterthanpeople · 1 year ago

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Can you do the same thing but for the dc hero kids? Like they just had their backstories?

Marc- Myzan'r

Marc came to Earth as Myzan'r, a Tamaranean prince being transported by Gordanians, in exile as a slave to the Citadel

Through the use of his immense Tamaranean superhuman strength and incredible agility, he broke free from the brig aboard a Gordanian ship and landed in Paris

There, he went on a rampage trying to remove his handcuffs, screaming in Tamaranean until Zoé helped get them off of him… Then he kissed her and started speaking French

He's been living on Earth with his adoptive mothers and younger brother ever since

Aurore- Whirlpool

Aurore was once a normal “human” girl who lived by the water with her family

One thing about Aurore is that she has the ability to breathe water, which made her quite popular at school. She was captain of water-based sports and always got invited to pool parties

However, one day at a beach bonfire party, Aurore suddenly swam further out into sea and dived down in the water, soon discovering that she could communicate with sea life and that she is from Atlantis

She soon decided to use her abilities to defend Earth's oceans

Mireille- Echo

Mireille was born with an inborn metahuman ability, granting her a super-sonic scream that could shatter the thickest of glass

After nearly deafening half of the school, her parents had her live in Gotham with some other metahumans for a year so she could have better control over her powers

When Mireille returned, it worked like a charm, and now they could control the frequency of their scream

Théo couldn’t be prouder of his sister

Cosette- Voltage

Cosette was just an average kid that no one understood... Then she somehow got roped by a school bully into joining some gang, and they got into a turf war at an old factory

A round went off, and then suddenly, there was an explosion. A strange gas spread throughout the area, and Cosette passed out from exposure

When it woke up, Cosette found that they now had electromagnetic powers!... And a bunch of other people in the city now had their own powers, and most of them were villains

They took up the mantle as a hero and used their new powers to fight crime

Zoé- Rouge ("I refuse to have the same hero name as Dick!")

Zoé was just your typical girl, born into a wealthy family in New York as the product of her terrible mother's affair. Her mother's negligence during one fashion show in New Jersey caused her to wander off and come across several villains

Because she's a rich kid, they decide to kidnap her for a ransom, only for Batman to swoop in and save her.

He takes one look at her and says, "Screw it. She's mine now." He just shares custody with Morgan

Ever since that day, Zoé's grown up with several older brothers and a few sisters who take her out for ice cream, teach her how to street fight, and occasionally prank Audrey

Ismael- Krypto-Kid

Born on the planet of Krypton with the birthname, Mal-Sel, as a baby, Ismael's parents sent him to Earth in a small spaceship shortly before Krypton was destroyed in a natural cataclysm

His ship soon landed in the backyard of Fazli and Alaya Prisk

Fazli immediately adored him, while Alaya loathed the fact that the ship ruined the backyard

Overtime, Ismael began to show signs of his powers

Reshma- Sapphire Beetle

While on a family trip to their private island, Reshma came into contact with a strange-looking scarab

When she touched it, it attached to her, grafting onto her spine, and gave her a powerful exoskeleton armor

Reshma had little to almost no control over her new powers, but slowly asserts herself. When she’s in danger, the suit activates, crawling out on to her back

When the danger passes, the scarab deactivates, and it hurts like hell

Simon- Speedster

Simon was once a normal but nerdy coffee-loving student who was occasionally chased by bullies

One night, as he was running home, trying to escape his usual tormentors, he was struck by a lightning bolt, temporarily knocking him out

When he wakes up the next morning, Simon later finds that he can run at super-human speeds and possesses equally enhanced reflexes, senses, and healing

Of course, he gets a little payback

Denise- Wonderer

On Paradise Island, Queen Hippolyta was sculpting a child from clay whom she named Denise

Denise often stood out as the only “non-female” of the tribe of Amazons, but they still respected them for their strength and power

After meeting a World War II pilot who crash lands on the island, Denise accompanies him back to his home and assists in fighting off Nazi forces

They ultimately decided to stay amongs humans, defending them from any threats, living with several families over the years, and eventually finding a boyfriend

Lacey- Wildmorph

When her brothers were three and she was eleven, their parents took them on a family trip to Brazil

It was all fun and stuff until they went into the jungle and Lacey was bitten by a monkey with mint green fur. Her parents were able to find a way to save her, but it turned her skin mint green, and she developed the ability to turn into any animal

Then while on a boating trip, there was an accident. Lacey and her brothers made it, but their parents didn’t

Their grandparents soon became their legal guardians

Jean- Spellbound

Jean Duparc is the daughter of famed magician/comedian Dejah Duparc

He started off as a young but successful stage illusionist himself before he discovered his true magical powers

After doing a dna test as part of a biology assignment for school, they soon discovered that they are of the Homo Magi race, a race of naturally magic-wielding humans

Ever since that, Jean’s been learning how to perform actual magic, and learns that he’s kinda OP

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #marc anciel #Aurore Béaureal #Mireille Caquet #Zoé Lee #Jean Duparc #Mlb ocs #answered ask #ask me stuff #dc comics #dc heroes #dc kids #dc comics au

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ace-trainer-jay · 2 months ago

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💚

[Memory - N]

Ice crunched under Jay's boots as she entered the cave. It had been almost a year since she'd become champion, and the Giant Chasm was still cold despite Kyurem no longer taking residence there. Mal said without the constant presence of the cold it generated, the Chasm would eventually warm and change the environment, but for now...

The inside of the cave was colder than even the foggy crater itself. As she walked past the antechamber, Kyurem's Pokeball rattled in her pocket. Did he sense his home? But the purr that rumbled in the back of her mind sounded like static- she recognized Zekrom's voice in it. Even fused, sometimes their personalities were distinct, and it was Zekrom who recognized the presence ahead.

As she entered the larger cave, she saw him. Standing in the middle of the frost-covered ground, looking down at the cane frozen in place, was a man with long green hair. N.

He turned slightly to face her. "Hello Zekrom, my old friend," he said softly. "And hello again, Jay. I didn't expect to see you here."

"Didn't think I'd come here, to be honest. But it... felt right. It's been a year now." She carefully approached across the icy floor to stand next to him.

"Yes..." N stared morosely at the cane. "I thought perhaps I could still change his mind, then. It seems foolish in hindsight."

Jay shrugged. "Nah, I get it. Sure, he was terrible, but he also raised you. It's hard to get past that sometimes."

N just nodded.

Jay looked down at the ice. The pool of red frozen into it. ". . ."

"You don't have to apologize for that," N said before she could speak. "I don't know if it was necessary, but even I couldn't convince that poor Hydreigon not to. It was blinded by hatred. You would have only gotten hurt yourself if you tried."

"He deserved it, anyway."

The two stared in silence for a while.

"Did you find your friend yet?" Jay asked finally.

N smiled. "I did. It's funny, I didn't even know it was me he'd gone looking for. Maybe you can meet him someday."

Jay frowned, thinking of every time someone had looked at her differently because she reminded them of that person from before.

"...Maybe."

[Memory End]

#[arc: historia memoriam]#ooc post

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reginaldpatterson · 5 months ago

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First day of Descendants Week 2024 @descendantsweek

The Little Prince and the Mad Scientist

What if, after the first trial year, Ben decided to open Auradon's school to all the children of villains? Among all the new villains, one in particular catches Chad's attention. However, the year doesn't really turn out the way he expected it to.

Today is a special day at Auradon. Last year, Ben invited three VKs to spend the year with them. It was a success, so he decides to give all VKs their chance and open the school to everyone. Chad is uncertain about this choice. He eventually grew fond of Jay and Carlos, but it was a gradual process and he still has reservations about whether it's wise. But Ben is the king and his best friend. The prince finds it difficult to trust him, but he still wants to.

Ben arranged a large event at the school for new students to provide all necessary resources and support for their adjustment. Similarly to how it happened with Mal, Evie, Jay, and Carlos one year before. However, since it is a school, those who feel the most at ease can consider attending classes. Not many VKs were expected anyway. Who would choose to attend class when they could just skip? Who would want to go to class when they can skip? Chad's first class is chemical and when he enters, there are already two new faces. A beautiful woman with long, shiny ginger hair wearing a red dress and a very gorgeous (oh wait no, Chad isn't thinking that! Maybe he is?) man with cold skin, white hair, icy blue eyes, and a stoic face. When the professor walks in, he asks the new students to say a few words about themselves. The man, who is tall and resembles a professional model, stands up with a casual appearance and attitude. Very cold and mysterious.

"Izkandar Askey, son of Yzma." He states simply in a very monochord voice. The girl stands up, she's way warmer, a little seductive in her attitude with her deep red lips, yet still simple and enigmatic, speaking very little. "Spinelle Medusa, daughter of Madame Medusa." The teacher appears slightly puzzled as he likely expected more words from the VKs. "Thanks for attempting my class, we will assess your progress in the program and determine next steps."

Upon hearing this, Spinelle chuckles lightly while Izkandar reacts with a cough. "What made you laugh Miss?" Spin grins in an amusing manner. "You're most likely the one who needs to catch up with that guy!" She gestures towards her friend. "We'll find out soon enough..." The professor responds. "Today, you will only be matched with a partner, and it's better for your assimilation to not stick together He shoots a meaningful glance at the VKs, but none of them seem to care much. Spinelle gives Izkandar an amused smile and wanders to look for a partner. Spinelle smiles at Izkandar in amusement before wandering off to find a partner. Due to unknown circumstances, Chad is the sole person left and must approach Izkandar, who is motionless and shows no interest in seeking a partner.

"Hi, seems we're together." Chad attempts to be friendly, but Izkandar barely acknowledges him, focused on his notebook. "I work alone." Chad breathes out heavily, already pissed. "Like it's a pleasure for me..." Sitting beside the newcomer, he doesn't have many options and attempts once more to engage in conversation. It's not like he's really interested in this class anyway.

"Why are you here, anyway?" once again, not a glance, but a brief, direct brief response. It's not going to be easy... "Science." Chad lets out another sigh. "Fine. No talking. So what?" Izkandar shrugs. "Working." However, Iz didn't bother paying attention to the experiment assigned for the class "Do you realize that you're not focusing on the right task, right?" And this time, Izkandar raises his head and gazes at him with eyes as shining as ice. Breathtaking. (No, not breathtaking at all, Chad is breathing perfectly right now!)

“Why would I do a basic experiment?" Chad looks at him in confusion, genuinely not understanding. Izkandar quickly resumes his own tasks while Chad becomes increasingly impatient. "Ok, I don't care if it's basic for you, now we are paired together and we're supposed to do this!" Although he doesn't value the class very much, the behavior of the white-haired man is really getting on his nerves. "So what? You can do this if you want. I'm not stopping you..." Like it's something Chad can manage by himself. "You never heard of teamwork?" Chad retorts. "Not my thing." Chad sighs again and sits back in his chair. Awesome. The new VK is completely self-centered. Chad vaguely takes the paper and starts reading it, looking puzzled as he struggles to fully understand it. The loud workings of his brain likely caused him to hear a sigh. "Let me guess, you can't do it?" Izkandar was pinching his nose. "Sorry, Mr. Genius, but not all of us master basic science like a pro!" He's really pissed. Izkandar lets out another sigh and inhales deeply. "I will regret that..." Closing his notebook, he then grasps the paper from the prince's outstretched hand. After reading it briefly, the scientist hands it back to Chad. "I'm not doing it." Chad gives him a curious look. "But I can help you."

Chad seems to be caught off guard by this sudden shift in behavior. This guy is very odd. He recomposes and straightens a bit. "Ok, fine." Chad offers a handshake. "I'm Chad, by the way. Chad Charming." Izkandar shows very little reaction and somewhat disregards the hand. "Great, a Little Prince." He doesn't sound thrilled, but everything he says seems very unemotional to this point Chad awkwardly retracts his hand and coughs, obviously upset by the tone. He already hates him. "And you're Izkandar, right?" He inquires. "What an excellent deduction as I mentioned that only a few minutes ago." He answers sarcastically, giving him a pointed look Chad can't quite define before returning to the vial he was working on. " You can call me Iz." He absentmindedly comments, making Chad feel strange.

Following that day, they continue to encounter each other occasionally. Chad acts like he doesn't like him, but let's be real: Iz is actually quite well-mannered for a VK. He always maintains good posture, looks classy in his purple suits, and has engaging conversations when he does speak. Overall, they aren't that different. Both of them appear as egocentric aristocrats with a tendency towards a slight superiority complex. But there is something else with Iz, or mostly with his friend, Spinelle. A caiman always tails her, almost like it's a dog. Although it may have been unsettling initially, no one appears to be bothered now. She has a crocodile at school. But it's okay, normal! Whatever! And the first time he saw him, Chad really freaked out.

It was on second day at school. Mister sciences over socialization is walking with was strolling with his friend when Chad passed by them, only to suddenly collide with the lockers and panic as he saw the damn caiman. The caiman gazes at him inquisitively, like he was making a fool of himself over a mouse. Spinelle thought it was funny, and even though she has a bit of a superior air, she doesn't seem too terrible. Not exactly super friendly, but not as oblivious as the stone-faced guy walking next to her who only notices the scene when he hears his friend. “What a brave Little Prince.” Iz answers and Spin playfully, even if kind of mockingly, back the prince up. “Come on Iz. Caesar can be a really impressive boy.” Iz shakes his head, but doesn’t seem more bothered. “If you say so…” He looks as said Caesar who gazes proudly at them, swelling his chest and almost wagging his tail. “You’re a good boy. Now go apologize the ‘Little Prince’ as Iz called him.” She discreetly gives her friend a look and a wink and he responds by rolling his eyes. Caesar reach for Chad who’s still paralysed. “Don’t! Get away! This… THIS IS A CROCODILE!” Spinelle chuckles slightly at that and Izkandar echoes what he said the day before. “Once more, such impressive deductive skills.” Spinelle turns to face him giving him an impressed look Chad can’t understand and Iz shrugs. Spinelle turns back to Chad. “He won’t eat your hand if it’s what you fear.” She reaches out her hand to him. “I’m Spin by the way, you just met Caesar, and I believe you already know the mad scientist behind me”. Iz appears to be ignoring everything around him, already focused on the book he is holding. Chad looks uncertain, glancing at both Iz and Caesar before finally taking Spin's hand. “Chad Charming.” He performs a polite bow in front of her. “Nice to meet you. You probably guess we don’t know much Auradon Kids.” Spin adds and Chad gazes at Iz. “And I believe some of you have less social life than others.” Iz doesn't even look up from his book. “And some are convinced they don’t need any.” The red-haired jokes at her friend. “See you then ‘Little Prince’” she teases once more, departing with Izkandar as they walk away. He will never get over that stupid surname. He hates him.

However, after a week, Chad keeps complaining about, not the VKs, but about one specific VK. And really, Ben's not sure he can listen to one more story about the damn scientist, the pretty lady, and the crocodile. And Ben actually begins to feel a bit concerned for his friend.

"Ben, you don't understand! He drives me crazy! He keeps calling me 'Little Prince' and he's so cold, and he is very distant, never listening to me when I speak to him. He keeps fooling me and making fun of me! I hate him!" Chad rambles. "Chad, why are you still trying to talk to them if you hate them! And I'm not even sure he did that on purpose. From what you told me, he just reacts when you do something or say something... I don't get why you're so obsessed..." Chad goes all pink and scoffs offended. "Wh- I... I'm not obsessed! He- That’s his fault!" He stutters, not even sure what he's saying or why he's stuttering. " Why do you constantly bring them up? There are so many new students and VKs and honestly. Izkandar and Spinelle are far from being a problem. They both go to class; they don't bully other students..." Chad interrupts him. "What about me?!" Ben sighs. "I'm sorry, Chad... If you want, I'll get a look at them. But what do you expect me to do?". If he was honest, Chad wouldn’t 't call it bullying anyway. He mostly feels like he needs to ramble about it with his best friend, but he kind of forgot his best friend is really busy right now with all the changes. He sighs and nods. "Thanks, Ben." Ben pats his shoulder. "That's what are friends for. " And it feels nice.

Chad doesn't know yet, but he'll really need a friend because the VKs would soon not be his top concern anymore...

#descendantsweek2024 #Day 1: Once Upon a Time/What if?#chad charming #Descendants #Descendants Fanfic #ChadxOc #ChadIz

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intertexts · 11 months ago

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ALSO OOPS I DONT THINK I EVER SENT YOU THE TRIVIA FOR 27?????? UH OH. OUT OF ORDER. this one is a lot shorter though so it's ok

EPISODE 27 TRIVIA:

- bizly opens this one in a baby voice "wewcome to just wolled wiff it!" absolutely insane

- charlie makes excuses for his cracked energy was because he was in the UK and tommy and ranboo were in the other room (TOMMYINNIT JUMPSCARE)

- Jesus is canon yet again. but only in vyncents world

- CONDI THOUGHT HAMSTER DANCE WAS A UNIVERSAL EXPERIENCE AT MIDDLE SCHOOL DANCES. and not just like. a youtube video that everyone knows. they played hamster dance at his middle school dance.

- speaking of which they've been overlorded again because the hamster WAS NOT ORIGINALLY A HAMSTER bizly did that solely because he has never heard hamster dance and wanted to be in on the joke

- charlie gets so worked up over the william short leg thing again and it's REALLY funny. bizly is like "I'll stop bringing it up when you stop having hilarious overreactions to it"

- "why the fuck did william make ice copies of dakotas parents that's so dark man"

"HE DIDNT MEAN IT TO BE !!!!! i think william is not very emotionally intelligent especially when it comes to stuff like this and he wanted to do something sweet for dakota. 'i know. Christmas is a great time for him to see his parents again because it's family and it'll make him happy!' without thinking about the moral implications OR the fact that they would come alive and try to strangle him"

grizzly: "dakota probably doesn't even remember Christmas with his parents"

charlie, REALLY far away from his mic: "WELL FUCK ME THEN"

- that was CONFIRMED mal trying to brwak through the barrier! charlie is TERRIFIED for williams sake especially bc he can't use his powers anymore

- condi: "hes pissed william isn't a planeswalker anymore and thats all he wanted you for"

charlie: "yknow! I dunno if william is a planeswalker anymore! he might not be!"

- WILLIAM WAS ACTUALLY BORN WITH A POWER!!!!! I forgot about this omg. so the one he was born with is called true sight and it means he's always been naturally able to see ghosts and monsters that normal people usually can't. YIPPEE

- he's also still got Kemuri's (smoke guy) powers obv ("that he regrets deeply every day"). they ARE in the spirit world and usually william wouldn't need a guide but since the wisps left him their guide is now master cole! if he were to leave/abandon them or whatever they'd no longer be able to stay in the spirit world. even william

- there are full versions of the colestyle gaming videos hidden somewhere on the patreon. fun fact. they're also talking about now doing one where william plays phasmophobia. or doing one with all 4 of them playing a game and bizly being tide. i don't think they ever actually did that but GOD i would kill for it.

- charlie was being annoying and grizzly responded with "I hope william stays alive *forever*" which sounds like it should be a nice thing to say but the way he said it was so absolutely scathing . brutal.

- quick mac detour theyre back to the game thing charlie says he wants to do a video playing elden ring as gillion and i NEED THAT SOOOO BAD. I miss gillion so much :(

- speaking of gillion idk why there's so much gillion trivia rn but charlie says the inspiration for his voice was "a combination of the spongebob narrator and my himbo fantasy" hello?

HOW HAS BIZLY NEVER HEARD HAMSTER DANCE??????????? yes this is what i'm taking from this. hello. how.

im so delighted w/ william thinking it's a great idea to make ice copies of his friends dead parents. god. NONE of the fucking prime defenders are emotionally intelligent they all have so many problems. prime traumatic stress defenders!!

ive said it like a billion times but i'm so fucking excited for the mal shit!!! i can't waittt!!!!! shaking him back n forth!!! wiwi torment nexus now!!!! also him being born with true sight is REALLY cool actually i feel like. this has been referenced on n off but i didn't realize it was actually a thing.. huh. i wonder if that's why the wisps targeted him. except their entire thing Is being seen so i dunno.!! cool... god. wiwi i love u wiwi... i want to go to deadwood i have so many fucking questions!!! why is the trickster there!! rift between worlds thats just coincidentally in his hometown!!! also i was just thinking ab kemuri's smoke powers im so glad he still feels awful using them :]] "i hope william stays alive forever" MEAN TO HIM!!! holy shit!!! wheezing!!

im gonna have a great time w gillion whenever i get around 2 riptide btw thats so funny. help. spogebob narrator himbo fantasy........

#THABK U FOR THE BOWL OF SEEDS!!!!!! good trivia lately!!! man!!!#okay. OKAY. time 2 start 29..... rubbing my filthy little hands together #pd lb #mac tag!

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cherrycola27 · 2 years ago

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CHERRY! Congrats on 2k Babe!

Could I request a smutty or fluffy Dionysus Iceman?!

Here’s to hoping for 2k more friends! 🎉🎉

Thanks, Mal! Here's one just for you:

Life of the Party:

The music inside the O Club was at top volume. The lights were low, the drinks were cold, and the venue was flooded with a sea of Navy men dressed in their summer whites. Fleet Week had once again made its way to San Diego.

You sat in a corner booth while you watched your friends flirt with some sailors. They laughed and giggled and squeezed their biceps.

You huffed and went to take a sip of your vodka tonic only to realize that it was empty. You sighed and cast a glance at the bar. It was packed with people waiting for drinks. You resided yourself to wait until the chaos died down.

You were fiddling with your straw when he came over. You didn't notice him at first, but when his looming silhouette peered over your table, you looked up and made eye contact with him.

He was impossibly handsome. Icy blue eyes, frosted blonde hair, crisp summer whites uniform, and this aura about him that screamed "party". It was like the entire atmosphere of the club radiated from him. Like he was behind the fun everyone was having.

He gave you a silent nod asking if he could join you. You wordlessly waved to the empty booth beside you.

He slid in. You expected him to keep some distance between the two of you, but instead, he saddled right up beside you and slipped his arm around your waist and pulled you flush against him.

"Why's the prettiest girl in here sitting all by herself at my party?" He asked you.

"Your party?" You quirked an eyebrow at him. "Exactly." He responded smoothly. "What's your name, honey?" He asked you. "You told him your name, and he grinned approvingly. "The call me Ice. Can I get you another drink?" He asked you.

As much as you wanted to resist and not give into his charms, there was something about him that drew you in. "Sure." You replied with a coy smile.

You expected him to get up, but instead, he waved a hand over your cup, and your once empty drink was now filled again.

"How did you—" You looked at him in disbelief. A glint of mischief flashed across his face.

"Let's call it a party trick," He whispered low in your ear. You felt a shiver run down your spine as he traced a knuckle along your cheek.

"I could show you a few more if you wanted me too." He breathed out against the shell of your ear.

"I'd like that, but maybe not here. It's too loud." You told him in a sultry tone. He chuckled and then, with a snap of his fingers everything stopped. It was like time froze aside from the two of you.

"Better?" He asked you as he pressed himself closer to you.

You stared at him with wide eyes. "Another one of my party tricks." He smirked.

"Who are you? What are you?" You asked him hesitantly.

"I'm a God baby girl." He told you smoothly. "A God? Like from the myths?" You chuckled. "Well, they aren't exactly myths. More like inaccurate history." He jokes before taking a sip of his drink. "As for who I am, Ice is a nickname. My real name is Dinoysus. So when I said it was my party, I meant it. Every party is my party. It's kind of my thing." He shrugs his shoulders.

You take a deep breath before speaking, "Dinoysus like the God of drama, wine, and—"

"Pleasure." Ice finishes for you.

"Yeah." You swallow thickly. "So how about we get out of here, baby girl, and I can show every reason why they call me the God of pleasure." He cocks his head to the side and trails a hand up your thigh waiting for your response.

"Are we taking your chariot or mine?" You tease him.

A wide grin breaks out across his face as Ice takes your hand in his and leads you through the mass of frozen people. Once out the door, he snaps his fingers, and the party continues as if nothing as if had happened.

#cherrycola27 #ask nik #the dagger deities #cherrys 2k celly #cherrys 1 year celly

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sissytobitch10seconds · 1 year ago

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Home Is With You

Fandom: Grishaverse: Six of Crows and Shadow and Bone (TV) Summary: Inej returns home after another one of her long sea voyages to find that her lover has prepared her something quiet wonderful. Warnings: Mentions of sexual slavery Word Count: 1,521 Ship(s): Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa

Archive link!

A/N: At the beginning of the news of the cancellation, I felt very mixed about it. I didn't like what they had done to the Crows at the end of S2, I didn't like what they had done with Mal and Alina. But then I realized, after a while of thinking, that I want to see how it ends. I want to have more pieces of these wonderful books lifted from them word for word and spoken by these amazingly talented actors. So I'm participating in this event to try and get more attention to it, to show that we're interested and they need to stop being stupid. I hope you guys enjoy, it's not as long as some of my other stuff is! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

She had always heard people speak of needing to get their sea legs. They had mentioned it offhandedly when she was a child because she had never had the opportunity to really be on a boat. She had also heard it in laughing jeers referencing Matthias when they had first begun their voyage to and from the Ice Court. She was a being that lived with wings hidden on her back and feet that gripped impossibly slick surfaces, so she had never really understood what the point of developing another way of walking was.

At least, she hadn’t until she had touched down in Ketterdam after a solid ten months out at sea. She hadn’t expected to be away for that long, but she had found a string of slaver ships that had resulted in several quick trips back to Ravka so that they could return otkazatsya and Grisha back to where they rightfully belonged.

There were more leads to follow, more names written on the little black book she kept next to he heart. She had more work to do, but her crew was weary and needed time to be back with their own families or to rest and recover from injuries. She had docked them back in Fifth Harbor so that they could see to their needs themselves and she could handle digging the problem out at the root. It was all well and good to be taking down the branches that stole people and sold them to the highest bidder, but if she could kill the demand then it would become unlucrative and thus wouldn’t happen any longer.

She could practically hear Kaz’s voice in her mind telling her that she was being too hopeful in the goodness of people again. She knew that he didn’t believe in the beauty of the world, that the evil really could be purged and would leave them with the happiness that they had earned. He told her often and sometimes made her feel so self-conscious that she wanted to give up on her entire plan. That hadn’t happened for a good long while, thankfully. He had been getting better about finding ways to voice his concerns or opinions and they played off of each other to balanced the other out, which was the beauty to be found in both of them.

The streets were just as busy as she had remembered them being almost a year ago. She was quick to find an alley that was slim enough that no one would notice her as she ducked into the shadows. Her fingers grasped at a drainpipe and her rubber-soled shoes, a replacement given to her by Kaz for her birthday after she had ruined the original pair at the Ice Court, gripped at the wall. She had always preferred walking above other people, not because she thought that was where she belonged but because it was so much easier to process what they were doing when she could see it from afar.

Inej traveled quickly and quietly over the rooftops that she had once been a spider on. She knew that Kaz had found someone new to find him secrets and get inside of buildings, but no one would ever truly replace her. She had once been offended because he had called her an investment, but after some discussion with Wylan she had learned how much of a compliment that was. The Kerch cared about nothing other than money, so it was a given that their terms of endearment and confessions of love would revolve around money and assets as well. He was simply trying to tell her that he cared deeply for her without being able to actually process his emotions.

A smile toyed over her lips as she thought about getting to see him again. They had been able to send letters back and forth thanks to their connections to the King of Ravka and the Grisha Triumvirate, but all flowy words and beautiful scripts would pale in comparison to actually getting to see him again.

She dropped down onto the landing of the Crow Club like she had many times before. She could remember almost all of them with crystal clear clarity, the ledge had basically been made for her. Her fingers slipped out of the gloves she wore to keep the ropes of her ship from callousing her hands and then she flicked the latch out of place. It would be invisible to anyone else, but she had been there watching Kaz as he installed it so he could feel safe and she could still come visit him whenever she wanted.

She stepped down into his room and then looked over the space as she was overwhelmed with a feeling of nostalgia strong enough to kill. Kaz had replaced the desk made out of an old door propped up on crates with something big and mahogany. It had marks around the edges from where his cane had hit it or a stray bullet and lodged in the wood, but it was still beautiful and shiny like it was brand new. The bed was no longer made out of milk crates with a thin blanket draped over it, but two twin beds pressed against the wall. They were pushed together that day, which meant that he was hoping she would feel up to sleeping next to him that night.

The thing that brought her attention away from the surroundings and her own feelings was the new addition. There had always been a fireplace that high in the Slat since it was a floor of the building, but there was something crackling happily away inside of it for the first time since she had first ventured up to the attic. She walked over to the mantle so that she could inspect the Suli pendant, the picture of the Crows drawn by Wylan, and the old head of Kaz’s cane resting atop it.

In front of the fireplace was a table that was laden with her favorites, jasmine rice and kurma with huge pieces of chicken and naan and the little Danishes from Fjerda that Nina had introduced her to. Between them was a pot of cloves, loose but whole.

“What is this?” she asked when she heard the door open.

“I thought that you would enjoy it,” Kaz rasped. “I was also expecting a hello from you before you began interrogating me, treasure.”

She turned to him with a bright smile as everything finally clicked into place. He was dressed as he always was: black slacks pressed at the sides so that that lump of scar tissue next to his knee was hidden, a black shirt with a perfect collar and silver cufflinks, all tied together with a pocket watch draped from the gray vest he was wearing. His hair was slicked back and he was leaning moderately heavy on his cane, which was a given seeing as storm clouds were already beginning to hover menacingly in the sky above them.

“You did all of this for me?” she asked. Her hand immediately strayed down to the simple knife that he had gifted her when he taught her how to defend herself. He had always provided her with the things that she needed to live the life that she needed to at that moment, including the wonderful spread before her. “How did you remember that I hate the smell of woodsmoke?”

“I remember everything about you, dear Inej,” he replied. His voice was deep and husky, wrapping around her bones and shattering through her body. Kaz stepped over to the table while removing his gloves, cane tucked under his arm so it was close to him but not in use.

She sat down across from him with a smile bright enough to rival Sankta Alina bringing down the fold. “Thank you, Kaz. I don’t think I could have asked for a better welcome party.”

“Good. I had to convince Jesper that you would prefer this to what he was planning,” Kaz grimaced and she couldn’t help but laugh. The joy that had already fluttered to life inside of her was given a drop of euphoria when she saw the way that his bitter coffee eyes were sparkling at the sound of her happiness.

She would have asked him about how he had been, but she already knew. He was the same as he always was, the man that she had fallen in love with instead of Dirtyhands. He was only like that when he was around her, he had removed his armor just for her. She wasn’t going to interrogate him like a wife that didn’t trust her husband, come to make sure that he wasn’t cheating or gambling away their savings. He had his life and she had hers. They were entwined together and the older that they got, the more likely it was that the braid would become tighter.

So, instead of asking about any of that, she simply grabbed a piece of naan and ripped an edible chunk off, “Do you know how to eat this?”

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #ao3 #archive of our own #grishaverse #six of crows #shadow and bone #sab #soc #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #inej x kaz #kaz x inej #kanej #save shadow and bone ship week #saveshadowandbone #save shadow and bone #six of crows spin off

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