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the-sinking-ship · 4 years ago

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Top 5 of 2020

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (ish) favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

I was tagged by @tackytigerfic and @sitp-recs (🤯🤯🤯) and I’m so honored!! Thank you!! I’ve seen this tag floating around and have tried to read every single one I come across because I absolutely love hearing the things authors appreciate about their work. I’m a big supporter of strong-arming friends into self-love because it is so easy to be overly critical of our creative endeavors.

I’m pretty new around here (I’ve only been posting Drarry since October), but I managed to publish four fics, all of which I am proud of for completely different reasons.

I’m still heckin’ anxious about tagging others because I’m new/just getting to know people and worry I’ll be that annoying person where ya’ll are gonna see my tag and be like THIS BITCH AGAIN?! But I will probably retroactively tag some people if I notice they haven’t had a chance to do this. Everyone should take the time to reflect on their accomplishments, especially after this trash fire of a year. Ya done good!

Anywho! Here we go.

1. Criminal. I’m so proud of this fic because a) I love it b) I finished it and c) I actually published it. A tip of my hat to anyone and everyone who has ever completed a piece of writing over 50k because SURPRISE! It’s hard. But I also learned that I fucking love it. That it is what I do best. It is honestly my comfort zone, always has been and always will be. I wrote this fic in complete isolation. I hadn’t yet been introduced to all the lovely and supportive people in this fandom/on the Drarry Discord and wrote Criminal alone, without beta help or cheerleaders, which I’ve discovered is a very lonely process. I didn’t really know if anyone would accept my story or even read it, but I finished it anyway (which, for a person with a wicked case of praise kink, was honestly terrifying). I’m not at all ashamed to say that I’ve read the comments people have left on this fic dozens of times. I’ve felt that telltale lump in my throat because of them. I’ve left them in my inbox for days because just looking at them gives me hope and confidence that words I write can bring joy to others the way other people’s fics have brought me joy.

2. Stupid Love. This was something I wrote in an almost feverish haze while editing Criminal. Tacky, if you’re reading this, I owe you a debt of gratitude because not only are you a gift to this fandom for your skill, wisdom, and infinite kindness, you are legendary for your fic recs. You were one of the first to shout-out this fic in the Drarry discord and act as my fic-pusher, and because people trust your impeccable taste, they read it. So, thank you for taking a chance on a newcomer.

I’ve always been insecure about my voice as a writer as it possesses almost none of the qualities I admire in other people’s work (subtlety, nuance, restraint). It’s like, whereas I enjoy a nice glass of pinot noir because it is delicate, artful, and expertly crafted, I feel like I’m over here dumping half of bottle of tequila into a mug shaped like a cat and offering to my readers like eh????? This piece was flamboyant and ridiculous and so very me, and the fact that people liked it as much as they did felt like a hug. It was the assurance I needed that there is room for my style in this fandom.

3. Sweet Indulgence. Yeah, I called it that because that’s what it was for me. I’m just over here trying to have a good time and this was so fucking fun to write. It has a similar vibe to Stupid Love and I’m glad it made some people smile. And TBH, this was a big deal because I was scared shitless to tell @fictional that I was writing something based on her art because if she hated it I was going to have to dig a nice deep hole and start my life as a mole-woman. But look at me! Still above ground! And Lynn still talks to me!

4. Quicksilver and Phoenix Fire. This was SO HARD. I’m forever in awe of writers who can create such flawless works with so few words. This was my first ever prompt-fill/wc limit and although I was really self-conscious about it, in retrospect, I’m really pleased with out it turned out. I could have made this 10k, but enjoyed the challenge of working within parameters and think it was a pretty darn successful fic, all things considered.

Here’s to 2021! I look forward to reading more, writing more, and interacting more. Thanks to everyone who reads/comments/tolerates me because I’m just over here doing what I do best, which is kick down doors to rooms where I’m barely invited, shouting some stupid jokes, and praying to jesus someone laughs. ❤❤❤

#tag game #my writing #top 5 2020

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keelywolfe · 5 years ago

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FIC: Beneath an Aurora Sky ch. 16

Summary: The South Pole Station is equipped for research and Edge has always made sure things run smoothly for the inhabitants. His charges are meant to follow his rules and regulations, and in turn, he makes sure they survive in the arctic temperatures. It takes plenty of hard work and determination and Edge, along with his crew, can handle both.

He wasn’t counting on one of the newest researchers. He wasn’t expecting Rus.

Tags: Spicyhoney, First Time, Arctic AU, Hurt/Comfort

~~*~~

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve

Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15

~~*~~

Read Chapter 16 on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Edge didn’t recall falling asleep. One moment he was holding Rus, quietly absorbed with the feel of him in his arms and the next Edge was waking with the bed next to him empty. Rus was gone.

He sighed and rolled over onto his back. It wasn’t unexpected, Edge told himself. Rus had been more than clear that he hadn’t yet forgiven, even if he’d been wanting the comfort of an embrace. That alone was more than Edge dared hope for and if at the end of Rus’s contract they parted as friends, it would be enough. It would. Perhaps Rus would even send him emails with pictures of other skies he was under. Out there in places where auroras were traded for sunshine, other places with other people, the entire world on offer to him.

The room with his few possessions carefully organized around him seemed to mock him with its emptiness, his single photograph of the others at the station silent in its frame.

It was a ridiculous notion and he pushed it aside. He’d been more than content with his life before Rus arrived here, he would be fine when Rus left. There was plenty to be done at the station, always, and new groups would come here as well. Ones that didn’t bring troublesome astronomers into his small place in the world to interrupt his peaceful life.

Then the bathroom door opened, Rus stepping back out and Edge’s resolutions went winging out into the snowdrifts. There were still faint circles under his sockets, his clothing was rumpled from being slept in. He looked lovely and Edge was struck with the impulse to pull him back into the bed, to kiss away his protests and hold him close again.

He ruthlessly suppressed it. Where they went from here was a choice he was leaving entirely to Rus and Edge would follow his lead, nevermind the faint ache in his soul.

“hey,” Rus raised a hand in a little wave, smiling awkwardly. “sorry, i was thirsty”

Edge nodded like the fool he was showing himself to be; of course that was it, there were passing few other reasons for Rus to be in his bathroom.

The only chair in his room was at the desk and Rus gave it a glance before stepping over to sit on the side of the bed, that lingering awkwardness still prominent. It was painful to see; even from the beginning when there was antagonism between them, there was never this discomfiture. “my numbers are probably done compiling. for my research.”

“All right.” Edge wasn’t sure what else to say, almost afraid of what he might say if he gave his mouth free rein. If he might ask Rus to stay here, with him, at least until the ship returned, to allow him that much.

Rus kept his gaze firmly on his own hands. "listen. i'm not gonna lie, i really like you. but. um.”

And here it was. Rus would list all the reasons they shouldn't do this; he couldn’t forgive Edge for his distrust or he did forgive him and still didn’t want to be with him, or he didn't have the time to interrupt his research, or he did have the time but the effort was too much. Perhaps he had someone waiting for him back home and why wouldn’t he? Rus was warm and kind, exuberant and sweetly charming. Even if he didn't have someone waiting, being alone might well be preferable to being with Edge, who was distrusting and emotionally unavailable and distant, all things that made him terrible even as a temporary partner.

Any of that would be perfectly reasonable. All of it.

"It's all right,” Edge told him calmly. If nothing else, years in the guard taught him how to shield his emotions, to only allow others to see what he wanted them to.

Rus blinked, his pale eye lights skittering to meet Edge’s with visible confusion in them. "what? what's all right?"

"It’s all right,” Edge repeated doggedly. “I won't interfere with your work. I'll ensure you have everything you need, any help at all. I understand it would be awkward for you to choose any of us as guides, but whoever you feel most comfortable with I’ll assign to help." Perhaps Undyne would be best, although he would need to have a firm discussion with her on the importance of keeping things professional.

Rus blinked again, too hard and too many times, and his voice was thin as he asked, "you're dumping me?"

"What…no!” Edge sat up hurriedly and a blossom of hope in his chest forced its way through his restraint. Rus was biting the tip of his tongue and Edge touched his cheekbone softly, urging him to stop. “Rus, I…I didn't realize I had anything left to lose with you."

Rus offered him a wobbly smile. "yeah, well." He rolled his eye lights heavenward, blowing out a sharp breath. “look, if you promise to try trusting me a little, i’ll promise to answer any questions you guys ask honestly. no more teasing. anything else, well, we can work on it. maybe. if you want."

Edge nodded jerkily. It was more than he dared hope for.

Rus’s smile firmed, quirking up at one corner. “promise? cross your soul?”

He made a little ‘x’ over his sternum with one finger and Edge repeated the gesture without hesitation. “Can I ask a question now?”

Rus’s sockets narrowed. “yeah, okay.”

“Can I kiss you?”

That earned him a smile, his real smile and Edge was helpless against it. "you’re really hard to stay mad at, boss.”

Thank the angel for that. He drew Rus down and if the first press of his mouth was hesitant, the second was warmer, easier, and by the third Edge wasn’t thinking of anything except Rus in his arms.

~~*~~

Afterward, they ended up cramped together in his small bathroom, washing up as best they could from the sink because Edge was out of shower tokens.

“if you stay in my room tonight, we can share my shower,” Rus said teasingly. There was enough doubt underlying it to make Edge wince inwardly. Whatever happened in Rus’s past that was so damaging to his self-confidence, Edge did not know, but he was determined not to allow it to interfere, if he could.

“My bed is bigger, but I don't mind sleeping close.”

“cheeky,” Rus murmured, but he was smiling and he took a soft kiss before turning away.

They went to dinner together and every head at the table swung in their direction as they walked in, hand in hand. Including Bonnie, who was serving, and Undyne at the end up the table, whose single eyebrow climbed up her forehead as she took in the sight. The intensity of those stares sent Rus back a step, colliding with Edge who reached out to steady him.

“uh, hi?” Rus tried, hesitantly. The confusion on his face was blatant; obviously he hadn’t been the one talking to other scientists about his woes. “how’s the grub tonight?”

“Excellent, as always,” said one of the glaciologists. She signed along with the words, accidently exchanging words, but Bonnie wasn’t watching. Her narrow, scarred gaze was on Edge, measuring him wordlessly, to the point he nearly expected to feel a Check wash over him. He met her gaze evenly. He’d made a mistake, they all had, but Rus’s forgiveness was his to give.

In the end, she only harrumphed loudly and went back to the kitchen. It would probably be worth talking to her in private, if only to save his breakfast. His practical side pointed out that Bonnie would hopeful be with them long after Rus was gone, their relationship was not one Edge could afford to sacrifice.

For the moment, practicality could go hang.

The bench creaked as Undyne stood up from the table, her boots treading heavily as she marched over. Rus was taller than her by far but he still shrank back, sockets going wide.

“Listen,” Undyne propped both hands on her hips. “I’m sorry about the way all that shit went down, but I know apologies are cheap. So to make it up to you, I’m gonna let you hit me.”

Edge doubted that statement had the effect Undyne intended. Rus’s sockets went wide, his pale eye lights the size of golf balls. He took a step back, directly into Edge again and this time nearly sent them both to the floor. Edge caught hold of the door jam, steadying them both.

“hit you??” Rus squeaked out. He all but danced from foot to foot, hands twisting together anxiously.

“Yep. Give me a good one, anywhere you want, just keep it above the belt.” Undyne screwed up her face, braced for an upcoming blow.

Helplessly, Rus looked from Edge to the scientists and back, but Edge could only shrug. This wasn’t his call. The crowd at the table was even less useful. They sat riveted, glued on the scene as if it were a particularly good television movie. Finally, Rus tried, “undyne, i don’t want to hit you!”

Undyne’s good eye cracked open. “Don’t worry, I can take it. Pop me a good one, fashion victim.”

Rus looked down at his hand, curling it weakly into a fist, then let it fall loose with a laugh, “okay, stop it, i’m not gonna hit you. apology accepted, no fisticuffs required.”

For her part, Undyne almost seemed disappointed. “You sure? Some people would give their left nut for a chance to give me a free slug.”

“last i checked, i don’t have a rightie or a leftie, so yeah, i’m sure.” Rus said dryly. “i’m great for allergies, completely nut-free.”

“I’m not sure I'd go that far,” Edge murmured. Innocent was not a look he wore well, but he gave it his best attempt when Rus swung around to glare at him.

“All right, but there’s only one other way to do this.” Rus tried to scramble back but it was too late. Undyne took hold of him and lifted him off his feet in a rough hug, Rus squawking and flailing before he gave in to the inevitable, hanging limp in her probably a tad too firm embrace. When she finally set him back on his feet, Edge caught him before he could sag to the ground, bones gone noodly and his eye lights swirling.

Undyne turned back to the table, noticing the stares of the others for the first time and scowled ferociously, barking out, “Don’t you all have anything better to do?”

“Are you kidding, we haven’t had cable in weeks.” Came from the source Edge expected least, the snooty older man, the Geologist who’d so often seemed dismissive of Rus’s credentials. His smile was small but sincere. “Besides, this is better than Netflix.” A titter of laughter rounded the table,

“Yeah, yeah,” Undyne scoffed. “C’mon, food’s getting cold. Dish up!” She strode back over to the table and sat hard on enough on the bench to lift the others sitting on it a couple of inches.

Edge and Rus joined the others at the table, taking plates of their own, and if it wasn’t quite the comfortable atmosphere of the last few weeks, it was still much better than the morning.

Red never came to dinner.

~~*~~

Once the meal was finished, Edge eating almost greedily of his first real meal since they’d come in from the storm that wasn’t burnt to charcoal, Undyne stood first, quickly scrubbing her plate and turning back to the group before any others could escape.

“All right, everyone,” Undyne barked. “I know you’re all as busy as a one-legged guy in an asskicking contest, but if you can carve out a couple hours, we’ve got a special treat in the rec center. It’s movie night and everyone's invited!”

A low murmur went around the table and Edge could only be included in their surprise. They’d never done anything like this before, but then, there were many things going on with this group that weren’t the norm. Next to him, Rus perked up with interest.

“sounds fun,” Rus said, standing up with his own plate. “count me in.” A few of the other researchers chimed in agreeably and Edge let them go ahead of him, hanging back with Undyne.

“When did you come up with this?” Edge murmured to her.

“I didn’t,” Undyne said flatly. “Alphys did. She was hoping to smooth things out with everyone, but looks like you and Rus already settled. So come on, let’s go before the good seats are gone.”

“I can’t.” Much as he hated to decline, his work has been getting neglected for a few days now. He needed to get things back on schedule and he needed to go find his brother. Whatever his reasons for skipping dinner, Red might feel better if he was aware that Rus was in a forgiving mood.

But Undyne caught his arm and held him back. “My honey felt so bad about what happened, she stepped out of her comfort zone to set this up. And if that doesn’t make you feel guilty enough,” Undyne went on, very low. “Rus is only here for a few more weeks. Kid forgave you and me, and we’ll need to work on Red. Let’s make sure he leaves with a fond memory and a smile on his face.”

Edge hesitated, torn. “That’s a low blow.”

“Maybe, but I’m not wrong. Come on.”

Undyne pulled him along and the drag in Edge’s steps was gone by the time Rus came back to him, his eye lights sparkling. Abruptly, Edge decided that Undyne was right. There was so little time he would have with Rus and plenty of time without him for paperwork. A lifetime’s worth.

Inside the rec room it became obvious that Bonnie kept very busy during dinner. There was a collection of mismatched bowls and pots brimming with popcorn, still warm and filling the air with the rich scent of melted butter. Piled alongside were actual boxes of candy like the kind from theaters, Junior Mints and Goobers, though where that came from Edge couldn’t fathom. It brought back memories, pleasant and otherwise. In the brief time they were on the surface before they came to the station, he and Undyne often went to the movies together, leaving Alphys and Red back at the small, dingy apartment that was all they could find. It was an extravagance they could scarcely afford, but the local theater was only a couple dollars and they could sneak in cheap boxes of candy from the nearby discount store.

Edge wasn’t generally one for candy and didn’t care at all for theater popcorn, coated in greasy, foul fake butter and yet, nostalgia struck him hard. Movies were an easy distraction in those days when he and Undyne could barely find anyone to employ a Monster, scrounging for enough coin to keep the four of them afloat. Spending an afternoon watching ridiculous car chases and explosions with the taste of candy that could barely be considered chocolate coating his mouth, letting reality drift away for a brief time before he returned home to once again attempt to scrub the ring from the tub. Escapism at its finest.

He only realized how long he’d been standing there staring when Rus asked, softly, “you okay?”

“Yes,” Edge said firmly, and selected a box of Raisinets.

Alphys was already there, smiling shyly at them all, and Undyne all but dove onto the sofa with her. On the other side of the sofa were the two glaciologists, honestly, Edge really did need to remember their names. He usually didn’t bother, the research groups came and went so quickly. They were both in pajamas and fluffy bathrobes, faces scrubbed clean and their hair pulled back. Alphys was wearing pajamas too, Edge realized with some amusement.

Less amusing was noticing that all the scientists sat strategically so the only place for Edge to sit was next to Rus. Who’d chosen a spot on the sofa, a large bowl of popcorn settled into his lap despite them having only just eaten dinner. The ploy was unsubtle and also unnecessary. He was more than happy to sit next to Rus, trying to keep the surprise from his face when Rus immediately curled up against him, spreading one of the soft throw blankets that were kept in the Rec Room over them both.

“What are we watching?” Edge tried to sound resigned but it was rather difficult with Rus snuggling into him.

“I got it!” Undyne scrambled up, blanket flying, and made a beeline to the television. “Figured this would be appropriate.”

She held up a case with ‘The Thing’ blazoned across it and a chorus of laughter and cheers filled the room.

Of course.

Edge didn’t care a whit for the movie. He only wanted to feel Rus close to him.

As it turned out, the movie was more interesting than he’d first expected and by the middle, Edge was absorbed, watching with breath held as the pilot began testing the blood of his companions, searching for the one who was the alien in disguise.

Interesting, yes, but not so much he couldn’t feel the fingertips easing up the inside of his thigh. Edge shifted slightly in an attempt to casually dissuade them, to no avail.

Rus’s expression was of one intent on the movie. The room was darkened and no one but Edge would be able to see the little smile playing at the corners of his mouth, the faint flush on his cheekbones as his hand wandered higher, palming Edge’s pubic symphysis through his pants. Coaxing a response that was not at all appropriate for being in a room full of people.

Well. This was an unexpected dilemma.

If he stood, he’d be treating the scientists to a rather obscene light show in his trousers, one that would only be more obvious in the dimness. Even if they didn’t understand what it meant, highly unlikely, he would, and so would the other Monsters in the room. The very idea was mortifying. Only the heavy blanket was protecting him now and there was no discreet way for him to prevent Rus’s surprisingly nimble fingers from unfastening his pants. All he could do was curse himself for not wearing a belt, the simplicity of a mere button and zipper were not enough to slow Rus.

Rus’s mouth barely moved as he said in a sly whisper, “keep quiet.”

A fine sentiment, but the surround sound system his brother installed was filling the room with explosions and alien shrieks, he was hardly worried about being overheard.

No, that wasn’t the point. The point was this was wrong, taking advantage of the ignorance of others to indulge in a voyeuristic tryst, and if Edge could speak without groaning, he would put a stop to it. Really. He would.

His breath caught audibly as Rus’s hand surrounded him, slim, bony fingers curling around his shaft. Hopefully all the others saw was the two of them sitting more or less chastely side by side. The blanket was innocently smooth, not so much as a wrinkle to reveal the sinuous twist of Rus’s wrist moving rhythmically, or so he hoped.

He flicked a glance around the room. Everyone was engrossed in the movie, not a single pair of eyes met his own...wait. Not a pair, a single eye on its own was focused on him. Undyne’s gaze and yet, instead of a knowing smirk, he found a rather flushed, desperate expression being cast his way. Next to her, Alphys appeared to be watching the movie with a large, fluffy blanket spread across both their laps and for all intents and purposes fully engrossed in watching as the alien was engulfed in flames. But Edge knew Alphys well enough to interpret that slight smile, the gleam in her eyes behind her glasses that was terribly similar to a cat who's gotten the cream, which was not a simile he needed to be thinking about at the moment.

Rus’s hand around him was moving faster, squeezing him tightly, fuck, he couldn’t—

Undyne coughed suddenly, loudly enough to garner attention, and while everyone was glancing at her, Edge squeezed his sockets shut and let his climax wash over him. Breath hissing softly between his teeth as he tried to keep from quivering to prevent the telltale rattle of bones from revealing them.

By the time he opened his sockets, the research center on the screen was caught in an explosion, the survivors sharing a bottle of alcohol between them as they despaired being unable to know if the other was alien. A fine ending even if Edge was going to have to rewatch the movie to see how it got there.

The others clapped and cheered as the credits rolled and Edge hastily fastened his trousers beneath the cover as they began to stand. Rus was rather impressively discreet, wiping his hand on the inside of the blanket and folding it over his arm to hide the stains, for all the world as if he was only chilly and wanted some extra warmth.

Less discreet was the way Rus silently flipped a G coin to Alphys. Who looked smug, the expression incongruous on her normally sweet face as she caught it with nary a fumble. Next to her, Undyne still seemed flushed from her ‘coughing’ spell, but there was no mistaking the awed affection in her gaze, turned firmly on Alphys.

“next time, i get to pick the movie,” Rus said lightly. Alphys’s grin widened.

“O-of course. If you think it will h-help.” She broke off on a squeak as Undyne scooped her up, walking determinedly out of the rec room in the direction of their quarters. The other scientists were gone as well, leaving behind a collection of empty popcorn bowls and scattered throw pillows tangled with blankets.

“think it’s on us to clean up—eep!” Rus yelped, scrabbling for Edge’s wrist far too late to stop him from sliding it into the front of his trousers. Edge wrapped his other arm around him from behind, holding him close even as Rus sagged against him, whimpering softly.

“I think if you’re going to make bets, you need to work harder on calculating the cost of losing,” Edge growled. If Rus had anything clever to say to that, it was swallowed in a moan that only deepened as Edge bent him over the back of the sofa.

From the sounds he soon coaxed from Rus, losing was well worth the price.

~~*~~

TBC

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #undyne #alphys #arctic au

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flatsuke · 6 years ago

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SLBP Hana!MC Soldier AU

a.k.a., a super self-indulgent AU i’ve been thinking about for months. Please bear with me lmao it’s not fully developed or organized so rip

disclaimer: this AU was heavily inspired by Mulan!

@utsusemi THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR IDEAS AND FEEL FREE TO ADD MORE!!

forgive me for the messy doodle dump:

So the war is close at hand:

And the town magistrate orders every able-bodied man to enlist for the army. Since MC’s father died in the previous war, Yahiko is the next eligible candidate (for the sake of the AU, let’s assume he’s a bit older lmao)

Of course, MC doesn’t want to lose another one of her family members, so she sneaks off from her house in the middle of the night to take Yahiko’s place in the army (in this AU, the Takeda army

So MC arrives at Tsutsujigasaki Castle and she’s nervous as heck because she’s really about to throw herself into war with only very limited dojo training experience (and a little bit of some pointers from Inuchiyo)

But she’s doing it for Yahiko so she steels herself anyway

Yukimura inspects the men who have enlisted (MC included), and her heart’s beating so fast

Yukimura: What’s your name?

MC: It’s...it’s, uh, Yahiko.

Yukimura slaps her in the back, saying “You may be tiny, but don’t worry, you won’t be after we train you hard!”

MC visibly gulps

That night, before bed, she feels a presence near her and, lo and behold, Saizo appears outta nowhere, threatening to kill her if she’s actually a spy

MC begs him not to kill her and tries to bargain with him; she can’t prove she isn’t a spy, so the only way for him to believe her is if he keeps her under his surveillance 24/7

He begrudgingly agrees only under the condition that she pay him handsomely after that

And from here on, I was sorta thinking the paths would diverge to either a Saizo route or Yukimura route (though both are still under development)

Long post below:

Saizo’s route:

So for the next few weeks,

Saizo watches over MC to make sure she isn’t up to some shady business

He’s the only one in the Takeda army who knows she’s actually a woman

During training sessions with the army, he watches her struggle to keep up with the others

He thinks its both amusing and pitiful to watch her try so hard. She may not be spy material, but hey, it’s free entertainment. Cue Saizo laughing at MC trying to spar with someone

“Are you done laughing at me?”

“Not even close, little lady.”

Little by little, he’s convinced that she isn’t a spy (what kind of spy can’t even defend themselves properly anyway?)

He’s also convinced that MC will give up and go home after all the harsh training she’s been through

But she doesn’t give up at all. Day after day, she endures the training despite being the least experienced among the men. Eventually, she does improve

Saizo won’t admit it, but he’s kinda impressed she made it this far

One day, the army is called to the front to prepare for war (probably against the Oda or the Tokugawa)

And MC’s highkey nervous because this is war and she’s going to fight for real

Saizo teases her and says it’s not too late to go home, but MC tells him that she came to fight and fight she will

“I’m always stuck with the stubborn ones...”

So they’re in the battlefield now and they’re all fighting. Suddenly, arrows are flying all over the place (courtesy of Ieyasu)

Saizo’s dodged most of them, but one comes flying straight for him and he doesn’t have time to evade it so he braces himself for impact

Until MC shoves him out of the way and is hit by the arrow in his place

For the first time, Saizo visibly panics and even after he’s staunched the bleeding, he can tell the arrow’s poisoned because MC loses consciousness

Eventually, the Takeda army wins the battle, but Saizo is rushing to get MC to an antidote, stat

(He doesn’t let any other medic treat her because they’d find out her secret and possibly reveal it)

MC eventually heals and he is relieved

So that fiasco is over

And Saizo has a newfound respect for MC

He doesn’t openly mock her as much as he used to, and he even allows her to train with him sometimes (if he’s actually in the mood to train lmao)

One day, Shingen decides it’s time for all of them to visit the hot springs to boost morale

And MC wants to combust because how the heck is she gonna manage??

So they’re now at the hot springs and everyone’s wondering why MC won’t bathe

“I’ll just wait till you’re all finished...”

She finds a secluded area to bathe in and hopes to god no one’ll see her

But then Saizo pops in outta nowhere like usual and MC swears to god she’ll get a heart attack because of him one day

She asks if he can keep watch for her and, in true Saizo fashion, he says sure but he won’t do it for free

“I don’t have any money on me right now, so do you accept payment in food? I can make you anything you want.”

“Anything, you say?”

So he makes her promise to make him some dango at the next possible opportunity

Saizo is now sitting on a tree keeping watch for any interloper who tries to get in the hot spring

His gaze unconsciously floats to MC, and for the first time, he sees that she really is, undeniably, a woman. She wears either men’s clothing or armor all day, so her figure is always hidden

But right now, Saizo gets to see her as herself

(And he feels oddly satisfied about being the only one to see her like this.)

But the happiness doesn’t last long because

One day, during another campaign, MC is heavily injured and Saizo is away on a mission given by Iga

MC is treated by the army’s medics, and they discover she’s actually a woman

Saizo arrives back from his mission just to find out that MC is being interrogated and (possibly) executed for accusations of espionage

Just as Shingen is about to give the order to execute her, Saizo steps in to defend her

Everyone is shocked because there’s no way in hell Saizo would ever do something like that

He tells them she’s not a spy, but the fact that she pretended to be a man still incriminates her

“You wanna get to her? You’ll have to go through me.”

To be continued

Yukimura’s route

It’s finally time to begin training

But MC’s nervous as hell because what if she gets found out

Cue shirtless training session with Yukimura’s chiseled torso on full display

MC is flustered

Yukimura asks her to spar with him in order to gauge his skill

(He’s firmly convinced that MC’s hiding some sort of hidden technique, so he’s hyped)

While MC does have some experience with martial arts thanks to Inuchiyo and some lessons from the nearby dojo, she’s no match for Yukimura

She falls down, hard, and Yukimura is a little disappointed that she didn’t put up a better fight

All other training sessions end up grueling for MC

She’s sorely lagging behind the other men who have more combat experience than she does, and she’s slowly close to giving up

All the other men are saying MC has no place in the army because she’s a weakling. Some of them even tell her to go home because she’ll be a burden to the army

MC feels terrible at that, but she remembers that she’s here to fight for her family, so she doesn’t give up

She decides to find a place to train alone and uninterrupted so she can concentrate

She trains there every single day (and night) and slowly, she can feel herself improving

One night, Yukimura catches her training alone and he’s impressed at her sheer determination

He offers to train her personally and she says no she couldn’t possibly ask too much from him, but he insists

So they finally start training together

And they grow a bit closer

With Yukimura’s help, MC is slowly getting the hang of combat

One day, she even nearly beats him in a sparring match (Yukimura is very happy and impressed)

After that last session, he finally asks her why she enlisted and she says she did it so her brother wouldn’t have to fight. She’s afraid that he might lose his life in the war, just like her father before her

Yukimura says that dying in war is honorable, and that she should be happy that her father’s death brought honor to her family name, but MC can’t help but disagree with him

“You may fight in order to die for your clan and your honor, milord. But I fight so that I can live another day.”

He’s a bit speechless at that

The Takeda army is being summoned at the front (probably against the Tokugawa or the Oda)

The battle is increasingly growing heated as the two sides go at each other without any restraint

Yukimura is on horseback, attacking as many enemy soldiers as he can

But then one of the enemy soldiers shoots Yukimura’s horse with a rifle, and he nearly falls off the nearby cliff

Until MC comes in and catches him before he can fall to his death

“Sorry, Lord Yukimura. I can’t let you die yet.”

Both of them tag-team together and kick some enemy ass, and the Takeda are victorious for now

The Takeda army returns to the castle, and they hold a feast to celebrate

Yukimura specifically makes a toast for MC and pours her a drink

And for a while, MC feels like she really does belong in the Takeda clan

(And maybe, Yukimura might be more than just a commanding officer to her)

But of course things don’t always go well

Lately, Yukimura’s been noticing “Yahiko” more and more

He doesn’t know why, but he’s been acting so flustered around her (he’s even noticed a certain fragrant scent every time they’d spar)

Cue teasing from Saizo

One day during training, Yukimura and MC are sparring together when she suddenly drops dead

He sees that there’s blood on her hakama, and he panics

Yukimura immediately rushes to her and brings her to the castle medic

Turns out it was MC’s time of month, and her stomach cramps were so bad that she fainted

But of course, that means they discover that MC is a woman and she’s now suspected of espionage

Yukimura finds her at the main hall, being held down by the other retainers

He has mixed feelings about this because on one hand, “Yahiko” lied to everyone the whole time, but she also saved his life

Shingen gives Yukimura the order to execute her, and just as Yukimura is about to strike, he stops

He tells Shingen that he owes MC his life and that he can’t do it

Yukimura bargains with Shingen to at least try and let MC have a lighter sentence especially considering all that she’s done for the clan

After much begging from Yukimura, Shingen decides that MC be exiled from the Takeda forever

Yukimura personally brings MC to the gates of Tsutsujigasaki

MC thanks him for all that he’s done for her and Yukimura tells her that he’s still conflicted inside because she kept her identity a secret

“Please go back home. It’s better if you never return here ever again.”

To be continued

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fleetofshippyships-archive · 6 years ago

Text

WIP tag meme

aaah, I was tagged over 2 months ago by @parkkate O.O sorry for not doing this sooner @parkkate XD I’ve been offline for a few months! Just now catching up on everything I missed! but I’m ignoring asks for now because my inbox is a mess

The Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

I’m gonna cheat and only do this for my drarry wips, since I post everything else on another account now, and tbh I have so many drarrys it’s still gonna be a long ass post XD

Oh man *sweats nervously* I’m a bit of a hoarder in all aspects of my life...I don’t even know where to begin!

I’m not tagging anyone cos I was tagged 2 months ago and I have no idea who has and hasn’t done this and don’t want to be a pain. But if you wanna do it, go a head, and please tag me so I can be nosy and hopefully find someone with a wip problem as bad as my own so I can be less embarrassed XD

Also I’m putting this under a cut for reasons

1. 4th year au idea

Sooooo, right off the bat, I often open a new file to jot down an idea even though I have docs specifically to dump ideas...and then at some point during the process of jotting down basic details of the idea...I start writing it....? This is one such occurrence...but I had to open it to check...and now I want to keep writing it XD

But also yikes it’s super dark

2. ... 4th year au idea

I swear, this is an entirely different wip and I am going ‘wtf’ at myself because wtf that’s confusing! I had also totally forgotten the existence of this before opening it....probably because of the name of it and the only reason I apparently have 2 files the exact same name is that one is a word doc and one is a libre office doc XD

3. drarry character death idea

Soooo, I need to stop turning idea files into wips without changing the names because I actually forget they are wips apparently

Also, I really want to finish this RIGHT NOW IT HURTS SO GOOD GIMME GIMME GIMME

4. Veela fic followup

LOL LOL LOL I’m rewriting my veela fic so I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to end up doing with this XD I might have to try and merge it with the re-write if the story has a similar outcome when I’m done. or maybe I’ll just turn this into its own thing....

5. Veela fic present tense

I really need to get back to working on this, this is actually the full re-write that re-doing the tenses spawned...I was binge writing this before my life went to hell but then my life went to hell and I went offline for like three months and didn’t do any writing or anything XD

although, the last time I looked at it I got the itch to change it back to past tense so who fucking knows what I’ll do with it now

6. Veela fic Draco pov

Curse my obsession with alternate povs of the same story and Draco for being such a good angsty pov

7. Veritaserum idea start

At least this one has ‘start’ in it so I know it is in fact a wip and not just an idea outline XD

7. Veritaserum

So, turns out I started that fic over in a new file and just left the old one lying around XD I do that too often. I should delete that other one...

Also...this better not turn into another ‘Amortentia’ with me unable to think of a fucking title and going with the file name because lame

This is also my first time trying to do god’s eye 3rd person instead of 3rd person pov...also first time trying to do this weird structure thing...I dunno but I like it XD

8. CTS followup

9. CTS sequel

Two separate followups set at different times in the same story verse... I hate myself. I love them both. I can’t pick which one to stop writing so I’m gonna keep them both around and try and make them merge at some point...

10. MMB saying sorry

11. another erase the shame

12. next erase the shame

I work on followups and lose interest so often (usually because people bug me for followups and I get very ‘fuck you’ about it and stop writing them...but I keep them around and tinker with them every now and then soooo they’re still technically wips

13. Tea and Coffee oneshot series (Tea and Coffee, Coffee and Dark Marks, The Cottage Kitchen, next untitled one)

There’s also a present tense version of the first one of those *sweats nervously* first 3 are finished, of course, but my original purpose is lost to them becoming a long fic soo....gonna merge them into one long fic soon...once I decide what tense I like better......kill me now

14. Communion of the Soul (folder name)

This is the sequel to One Touch and this is spread across 5 files because apparently I did that and even though each time I got to work on it I have to figure out which file holds which part of the sequel timeline and which I feel like working on...I have yet to merge them into one file to make my life easier...

15. Crumbling Facade

ugh working on this always makes me want to re-write restraint and actually put in the major plot line, or what was supposed to be Harry’s major plot line before the relationship crap got away from me and I had to cut out all the plot stuff because by the time I got around to addressing it, it started reading like a completely different fic and I had to cut a huge chunk and end it instead, because back then I sucked more than I do now and couldn’t juggle

sooo...I still work on this in starts and stops and then get frustrated for having to stick to Restraint’s chain of events when I have better ideas now for working in Harry’s plot about his damn magic problem and ARRGEHGEHGFVEDHDBVUIOFNBFKDB EFBVJ

I should just let Crumbling Facade take me where it wants to take me and fuck Restraint

16. Potter’s Insatiable Heart

This is my longest wip at 130k XD and I’m stalling now because if I keep going with it where I was intending to go it will end up my longest fic and I’m getting intimidated by the length and how much work it will be to edit that long of a fic so I just go in and write a few paragraphs now and again, get scared of the length and move on to another wip XD

I also periodically binge read this bitch because I love it to death even though it’s severely flawed XD

17. Corset Drarry

oh boy, when I started writing this this I was weirded out by writing a kink I didn’t understand and kind of tailed off and left it...then I did kinktober for voltron and now I’m laughing at myself because corsets and lingerie is so fucking tame after that kinktober list and all the the crap I wrote for it XD

18. Music in the Periphery

Emily bugs me about finishing this a lot...I bug me about finishing it, progress is non-existent because I have a clear plan for it and when I have a clear plan I can’t write for shit

19. Saying Sorry (Round 2) (MMB)

I gotta kick that habit of starting over with something but keeping the first attempt and still working on it parallel to the second attempt, because then I wind up with 2 fics too similar to each other to post both and I’m completely unable to pick which one I like more *facepalm*

Also, MMB is dead if I can’t stop turning the next fic attempts into angst, I just look at that big fluffy mess and want to angst it all up

20. scrapped MMB ficlets - theo’s letter

not technically drarry thought the greater series is drarry...torn between making it mmb or making it its own fic for a rare pair

21. Weather the Storm

*cries* my 6th year war au, I have such plans for this, but the plans get in the way of writing =(

22. Soulmate AU (folder name)

fucking hell, this is 10+ files and I’m not naming all of them, current count is 5 completed versions 60k+ each, 1 incomplete alternate version, all of which I’m seriously unsatisfied with, none of which I can bear to delete, all of which I periodically go and tinker with, thus leaving them all wips i’m such a fucking hoarder but also I have never gotten over all the awful comments that were on the original soulmate fic on ffnet before my purge and now I can’t ever be satisfied unless it is perfect and wont result in such horrible comments again

23. Turnabout (folder name)

Once again, multiple wips in here of the same 60k finished fic I’ve been unhappy with since the moment I finished it and keep trying to fix by starting over and changing things here and there to change the course of the story. Honestly ready to hit the delete button with this one unless my latest attempt pans out, liking it so far buuuut I’m a mess about my writing so who knows

In the Ways that Matter was based off this fic XD

24. Dependency

Oh boy, I abandoned this cos it was so dark I got too uncomfortable writing it...I’ve since started revisiting it after being in the Voltron fandom gave me a new tolerance range for dark content XD

Plan on posting this on anon if I ever finish it, obviously changing the title XD it stopped being relevant after the first 30k anyway

25. Dependency V2

LOL light version of the above that removes most of the dark aspects while maintaining the core plot, but I’m finding it a bit dull XD not sure how long I’ll keep trying to chug along with it

26. *censored title*

hahahaha omg why is this in a different subfolder, this is actually one of the soulmate au ones only it’s actually a spin off au of the original soulmate one I from ffnet and therefore it’s new ground and I’m less unhappy with it

.....I’m probably going to stop working on turnabout today and work on this instead now

(censoring the name because I might post this on anon because I’m too scared to post another drarry soulmate fic under my own name)

27. Retrospection

Sooo, I’m always on and off this fic cos it triggers my anxiety and depression, but fuck that I want to write it so I keep trying XD

I’m also thinking of splitting the two main plots and only going with 1 and using the other to write another story....see if that eases how difficult it is for me to write without self triggering

28. Sequel to mornings

29. Sunrise (loose prequel to mornings)

30. Surrender

I had no idea what this was, opened it and then holy shit THIS BITCH, THIS SLOW BURN FRIENDS TO LOVERS PIECE OF BULLSHIT. I DON’T WRITE SLOW BURN! I DON’T WRITE FRIENDS TO LOVERS. I REFUSE.

but also I really really really love what I wrote so far and now I’m itching to write more *cries* making this list is leaving me with so many open files to work on

31. day 2 ass worship

32. day 3 sensory deprivation

*laughs nervously* the kinktober oneshots that starting turning into a long fic hahahaha cos I really needed more wips

33. Perception of Angels

*wistful sigh* one day I will be able to finish a heavily plot driven story full of fantasy elements and creatures and magic I made up, and when that day somes, Perception of Angels....or that timetravel war au drarry fic idea I have sitting around.....which isn’t on this list only cos I’m not stupid enough to start writing it

So that’s all the drarry files in my wip folder.... I also have heaps more for other ships and fandoms, but I’m keeping that separate =)

And...now I have some writing to go do, cos after 2 months of being unable to write thanks to the bullshit in my life, I started binge writing again 2 days ago =) and opening a few of these to remind myself what they were has a lit a fire under my ass

#*#tag game #wip meme #i have too many wips #and this is only the drarry ones #and tbh there's another folder i didn't check because i'm pretending it doesn't exist #because they're all super plotty things and i do.not.have.the.time #i wish i could feel more secure in my writing so i could just post some of the completed things #and stop messing with them in a vain effort to make them perfect

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lovelylogans · 7 years ago

Text

marionette: chapter one

virgil

all on ao3 | next chapter | all on tumblr

warnings: deceit, so lying and manipulation, swearing, mentions of blood, strangulation, restraints

words: 3,601

notes: i have like 7 drafts but the last line popped into my head and i had to write it okay

read:

on ao3 | on tumblr, in order

Anxiety, Logan has told Virgil once, twice, a hundred times, as they sat back-to-back, is often fueled by epinephrine, commonly known as adrenaline. Your brain thinks that you are under threat, and your body responds accordingly, even if there is no physical danger present.

At the time, Virgil had thought distantly of mothers lifting cars off of their children, of people leaping off cliffs to feel that rush, and could not compare it to himself. It seemed stupid, like some kind of broken button in his brain; press here for dopamine, sike, you get a pounding heart and sweating and chest pain instead, deal with it. Adrenaline hadn’t made him feel strong, or brave, or full of life; it made him shaky, and uncertain, and terrified.

Logan’s ramblings could do a lot to help ease Virgil if he started to feel tightly wound; Logan could talk and talk about anything that he was thinking about that day and the familiar drone of his voice would set something at ease inside of Virgil, give him something to focus on, something else to listen to.

Patton always checked to see if Virgil needed someone or if he needed to be alone, and had gotten so much better at seeing through Virgil’s lies that Virgil didn’t even bother anymore. Patton was full of warm hugs, and warm smiles, and horrible puns, and encouragement about self care, and cookies if he wanted them.

Roman, as complex as Virgil’s relationship was with him, could help too; spin an elaborate tale about his trials and quests, sing at the top of his lungs, draw attention away from Virgil in a way so casual and subtle that Virgil couldn’t always catch it until after it was done.

He was getting better, sort of. There were still bad days, but now he had them; he had Logan to sit on his bed and ramble, he had Patton to lean up against, he had Roman to glitter and shine so brightly it was easy for Virgil to slip a bit more into the comforting shadows.

It was easy to lean on them, and they let him, encouraged him to, even. He wasn’t sure if there would ever be a time he wasn’t awed by that, not that he’d ever tell them so. Even after years of shutting them out, and them turning away, they had still been able to repair it, find the single unbroken thread between them all and weave around it, make it stronger.

Virgil was busy absently running his fingers along the uneven stitching on his hoodie with one hand and scrolling through tumblr with the other, sitting perched on the windowsill, as Roman had his feet in Patton’s lap, bemoaning the latest fault in his latest quest, Logan reading quietly in an armchair. Night had dropped its consuming black sheet over the sky, and the room was lit only by the warm light of Roman’s fairy lights, a lamp glowing soft amber beside Logan.

“Mm,” Patton said, patting Roman’s ankle sympathetically. “Then what did you do?”

“Well, what I had to, I suppose,” Roman sighed. “I cut the villain free, of course.”

“And he got away,” Patton guessed.

“And he got away.” Roman said, scowling.

“Well,” Patton said, rubbing his thumb along Roman’s shin. “I, for one, am very proud of you. You’ll catch him again, some time. If you hadn’t cut him loose, he’d have died. And that’s no small thing.”

Roman paused, and said, “I saved his life?”

“Well, it sounds like it,” Patton said, edged in a laugh. “Saving him from dangling over a spike pit sounds pretty life-save-y to me, kiddo. Besides, if you saved his life... maybe that’ll weigh on him, a little.”

“Dramatic tension,” Roman said, understanding dawning in his voice. “I suppose I can get behind that.”

Logan paused, slid a bookmark into his book, and stood, cradling his book against his chest. “I believe it’s time for me to get to sleep. You all should too.”

“In a little while, Specs,” Roman said, waving him off, and Patton squeaked out a little “Love you Lo!” as Virgil muttered “night,” attention mostly on his screen.

There was the sound of footsteps softly plodding away, the consistent rhythm of Logan stepping lightly up the stairs, and the sound of his door opening.

And then a loud bump.

Virgil shot a glance to the stairwell, and Patton and Roman ceased their conversation, glancing towards the stairs.

“Logan?” Virgil called cautiously. “You okay?”

A long pause. Virgil felt his shoulders climbing to his ears. Fuck. Fuck, Logan fell, and he hit his head, and he’s unconscious and bleeding and he’ll have a concussion and he’ll hate it and we’ll be out logical decision making and what will that do to—

“Logan?” Patton called, concern laced through his voice, and Virgil is ready to storm up the stairs himself, Logan’s privacy be damned.

“Fine,” Logan’s voice finally floated down the stairs, and Virgil felt his shoulders relax. “Just dropped a book.”

“Don’t stay up to late reading, all right?” Patton said loudly, directing a firm fatherly glance towards the stairs, and there was no response. Patton let out a good-natured sigh.

“That boy. Smart as he is, sometimes I think he never learns,” Patton tutted.

“Tells us all about the importance of sleep and turns around and stays up till four because he has to find out the migratory pattern of starlings,” Roman agreed with a huff.

Virgil considered going to claim Logan’s vacated armchair, but decided against it. He’s comfy on the windowsill. Mostly.

Patton and Roman resumed talking in low voices about the dramas of Roman’s realm, which Virgil let slide in one ear and out the other; he’s mostly just trying to figure out if there’s a specific tag he’s going to lose himself in tonight or if he’ll swap social media platforms to get some more #relatable content.

Virgil shuddered, and was immensely grateful he did not say that sentence aloud.

Eventually, Patton tapped at Roman’s ankle again, and said, “Well. I think I’m gonna head in, you two, don’t stay up too late, all right?”

“I might go with you, actually,” Roman said musingly. “I want to look over a script idea—“

“I said don’t stay up too late,” Patton said, mockingly threatening, and reached out to tousle Virgil’s hair. “You too, kiddo, I don’t want you falling asleep here and getting a crick in your neck.”

Virgil allowed the hair tousling with minimal grimacing, and made a vague, inarticulate mumble, waving Patton off, who sighed but started walking with Roman anyways, their footsteps softly plodding away.

Virgil had just leaned against the window when he heard a thud, and a startled cry, and Virgil leapt to his feet, heart pounding in his chest.

“Pat?” He called, trying not to sound too desperate. Is it a prank? Patton wouldn’t make a joke like this but what else could be— “Roman?”

Another thud, and then—unmistakably, Roman, loud and sharp and clear and —afraid—”VIRGIL, IT’S—”

Silence.

“Roman,” Virgil called, and louder, “Patton.” He jerked towards the hallway, a hand on the frame, swinging to look down the hall.

The lights were off, the only distant lights from the cracks under the doors. Virgil swallowed, there are no monsters in the dark, and said, “You guys? You there?”

He carefully flicked on the lights, and tried to avoid grimacing at the sight of the stark contrast between the soft glow of the living room and the plain, harsh lighting of the hallway.

“If this is a joke, it’s not funny,” Virgil cautioned, walking down the hallway. “I mean it, Roman, it’s—“

Virgil dreamt of light. Footsteps echoing. A shadow swooping in the hallway he didn’t notice too late, like a shadow puppet show along a wall, except shadow puppets were Patton’s thing that happened safely under blankets with giggles and bunnies and crocodiles, not strange sweeping figures that were straight out of horror films. A prick, a needle, something against his neck and a hand over his mouth and the way Virgil had panicked, fingernails digging sharp into cloth and clawing and the world had tilted and fuzzed and—

Virgil woke, panting desperately, a hand clutching at his neck, sitting up, feeling dizzy as he looked around.

The couch. He was on the couch, in the living room. The fairy lights were still on, but someone must have turned out the lamp. Virgil tried taking a deep, even breath.

Dream. It was just a dream. You fell asleep out here and Patton moved you to the couch so you wouldn’t get a crick in your neck.

Except.

Except Patton would have put a blanket over him. All of the other sides had put blankets over him and nudged pillows under his head if he fell asleep in some place inconvenient. He had just been dumped on the couch, and—

and his hoodie was gone.

Virgil gulped, fingernails scratching along the downy hairs of his bare forearms. His hoodie. His hoodie. Where was it? None of the sides would take it off of him without his permission. None of them would, even with the sweaters they’d at least replaced it with something similar in weight and comfort.

Virgil was left in his threadbare purple t-shirt and a pair of jeans. There was no comforting weight on his shoulders, or fleece he could feel against his skin to help him ground himself, or a hood to draw up over his head if the light got too intense, or sweater paws he could worry between his fingers instead of picking at his nails—

Virgil forced himself to take a breath in, out, and thought right. okay. I need to find someone else, I need to ask if they know where the hoodie is.

The next, well, logical step is to go find Logan. He doesn’t grasp emotions very well; he might have brought it to Virgil’s room and folded it, that might be all, because Logan likes things to be organized and neat and in their place. That might be all this is.

He tried to convince himself of that as he slowly climbed up the stairs, but the absence of his hoodie has thrown him all kinds of off-kilter. No blanket, no hoodie. Virgil ran cold or warm consistently and even if he was sweating in the midst of an adrenaline response, he always, always wanted his hoodie. Now, he can see the goosebumps raising the hair on his arms, the odd little bumps on his skin. He roughly ran his palms up and down his arms, trying to give himself some kind of physical sensation to focus on.

He knocked at Logan’s door, starting with “Lo—” that cut off as the door swung open as soon as his fist made contact.

Logan always makes sure his door is either fully open or shut, he hates having it just cracked open, something whispered in the back of his head, and Virgil tried his best not to shudder, walking into Logan’s darkened room.

“Logan?” Virgil asked, soft, conscious that Logan might be asleep. He glanced towards his desk (empty) and reached, flicking on the lights.

As soon as the light flooded on, a loud, horrible screeching did too, deafening, and Virgil yelled out of surprise, stumbling back so his back thudded against the wall hard enough to dislodge a picture frame, hands flying to his ears.

He knew this noise—it was dial-up internet, the unerring whine, the claxon alarm, and Virgil fumbled, shutting the lights off again.

Swamped by blackness, the sudden silence was jarring, and Virgil let out a shaky breath, removing his hands from his ears cautiously.

“Logan,” he said, firm, because if Logan had been asleep he certainly wasn’t now.

Logan would never booby-trap his own lights. He only ever works without them on to fool Patton into thinking he’s sleeping.

“Logan,” he repeated, a desperate edge in his voice. “C’mon, dude, are you in here?”

He fumbled forwards, even, to press against Logan’s unmade sheets, just to be really sure. His hand met nothing but Logan’s pillows, and he pressed on the other side, where Logan usually slept, and—

Virgil frowned.

Logan doesn’t sleep with things in his bed. That’s what bedside tables are for. He wouldn’t put a—a book, or a... what is this?

Smooth, he could feel it. Wooden.

Virgil picked it up, and squinted at it in the dark, and very nearly dropped it, or he would have, if it wasn’t for the string tangled around his wrist that made it jerk, stopping just short of the floor.

Virgil inhaled shakily, and lifted it to eye level again.

It looked like it had been made almost... lovingly, a long time ago, but it was so battered and worn now that it just made it look rather sad. The head was flopping back because Virgil was holding it by the wrist, and Virgil shuddered at the sight of blank black glued-on button eyes, a strip of shiny metallic duct tape over where the mouth would be.

“Okay,” Virgil whispered, and wished desperately for his hoodie pocket to tuck the stupid puppet into, to protect it, somehow, or perhaps somewhere safe to put it so it could be far out of Virgil’s eyesight. “What the fuck.”

Marionette. That was the word. The puppets that you could make dance. Virgil carefully untangled the string from his wrist, bile rising in his throat, before he carefully laid it down into Logan’s bed again, hands shaking just slightly.

Patton. Patton might have taken the hoodie, and yes, Virgil was clinging to the hoodie excuse, because the loud wailing of the dial-up and the fact that he’d been alone and the fucking puppet and the brief dream-memories from before were pointing to something that Virgil frankly refused to contemplate, to allow himself to lean into that kind of fatalistic thinking, because it would be fatalistic and he had been doing better and Patton would help him.

Virgil took a deep breath, and refused the urge to take the Logan puppet with him. Even though bringing along a creepy facsimile of Logan sounded better than going out alone. He hesitated, before he reached forwards to hesitantly touch at the duct tape at puppet-Logan’s mouth.

He needed to go to Patton’s room. Right now.

He walked alone, in the dark, and had no desire to turn on the lights.

Virgil opened Patton’s door without knocking, because Patton had drilled that into him if he ever needed help he never ever needed to knock not even once, to just walk in and whatever Patton was doing would be able to wait unless he had an emergency.

His lights were off, but he had the floaty little fairy lights on in his room, painting it in that sleepy glowing haze, and Virgil could already see that Patton was not at his desk, or in his bed, or at his bookshelf, but something else was hanging by its wrists from the cabinet Patton kept all his photo albums in.

Another puppet. Blue shirt. Gray fabric slung lazily around the shoulders, in danger of slipping off, and Virgil walked forwards, swallowing more and more.

The strings were so horribly tangled that Virgil had no hope of untangling the knots if he stood here for thirty minutes. The horrible bright painted-on smile, the cartoonishly innocent pink circles of a blush on the puppet’s cheeks, seemed so incongruent to the way the puppet was all tangled up in its own string, a childish game of hangman painted dark and foreboding. Its head was flopping sadly downwards, tilted to the side, and Virgil shuddered.

This wasn’t fatalistic, anymore. This was not fatalistic. Someone had made creepy fucking puppets and laid them purposefully in each of their rooms for Virgil to find and laid Virgil out on the couch and taken Virgil’s hoodie. Someone had put duct tape over puppet-Logan’s mouth and someone had tangled up puppet-Patton so he looked like a fucking prisoner dangling in a dungeon.

Something was horribly, desperately wrong, and Virgil was the only up and around to investigate, to fix it, unless—

Unless.

Roman’s room, then. Virgil swallowed as he turned to enter the hallway, remembering the memory—because it had to be a memory now, didn’t it—

Virgil felt something crack under his foot. He closed his eyes, and clenched his shaking fists, because he could tell without even looking what it was.

Virgil opened his eyes, and looked down, even though he desperately didn’t want to.

The button eyes and lopsided smirk of the Roman puppet stared accusingly up at him from where his chest was crushed under Virgil’s foot. Virgil knelt and picked it up, swallowing, and attempted to dust off the outfit—white shirt, red sash around his chest. There was a crown on his hair, and Virgil shook to reach and touch it, straighten it on his hair, because even a puppet version of Roman would hate to look undignified.

“Sorry,” he told it, and winced as he saw where his shoe left a mark on the white shirt. “M’sorry.”

“Oh, he can absolutely hear you, Virgil,” a familiar voice said behind him, and Virgil’s grip tightened on the puppet, nails digging into it. He did not get up from where he knelt, and he did not look back.

“You fucking bastard,” Virgil told the blank button eyes of Roman, grip tightening. “You piece of fucking shit.”

“It’s not at all stupid of you to be talking to a puppet, of all things,” Deceit continued. “Is it too subtle a detail? It was between this or some voodoo dolls. I know how much you love needles.”

Virgil thought of needles stuck through eyes, pinning puppet-Patton against a wall or puppet-Logan to his bed, and he thought his fingernails might break from how tightly he was digging them into puppet-Roman’s shirt, meeting the unforgiving wood underneath.

“It’s a very scintillating conversation to just speak to your back, Virgil,” Deceit said, and Virgil could not help but think of what must have happened the last time he had his back to Deceit, and he had failed, he hadn’t protected them, he’d been knocked out and—

“Logan didn’t drop a book.”

Deceit hummed, and Virgil gritted his teeth, because this was the piece of Deceit that was the most difficult to decipher; the half-truths, the almost-lies, the noncommittal gestures and tones. To lie was fairly black and white; to deceive held all kinds of shades of gray.

“Where are they,” Virgil growled, at last turning to look over his shoulder, and Deceit was a bizarre figure in the doorway, face shaded and clouded by his hat, yellow gloves catching the light bright and obnoxious, and Deceit spread his arms.

“Maybe they’re safe and sound, and you’re the I’ve decided to play with,” Deceit said. “Maybe Patton’s all tied up and strangling himself trying to reach the sword that’s only a foot away to save Roman, the poor stupid thing.”

There was a loud crack and Virgil started, head spinning back to his hands, because the Roman had puppet had cracked and split into two and dropped aside and Virgil was holding the something that had been inside it, something wrapping its way tight around his wrists. Virgil dropped the thing and attempted forcing his wrists apart, attempting to break free, scrambling away from the strings advancing on him, inadvertently going towards Deceit as he continued.

“Maybe they’re trying to run from a monster, but they have to keep slowing down because Logan got himself bit on the leg. Blood leaves a horrible trail for monsters, you know.”

The dark black strings had twined their way up his bare arms, over his chest, around his neck, making him strain for air, mouth opening wide and sucking in as much air as he possibly could get, even as he tried to squirm free.

“Get it off,” Virgil choked, pride gone, because he couldn’t move his legs he couldn’t move away from it he couldn’t break free he couldn’t breathe he couldn’t. “Getitoffgetitoffgetitoff—“

“Maybe,” Deceit continued over Virgil’s panicked demands, “I’ll just take this—” and with a twist of his fingers Virgil started straining towards Deceit even more, because that was his hoodie, his hoodie, hanging from Deceit’s fingers like it disgusted him, like it was dirtybadwrong—

“—and I’ll stand and sulk in the corner, because that just must be so hard for you, Anxiety, I don’t know how I’d ever do that.”

“Don’t call me that,” Virgil spat out, even as he tried jerking his whole body out of the restraints, trying to kick free—

“Maybe I’ll even set this on fire just in time for the others to come down the stairs and see it crumbling to ash! Goodness, that would be just so sad, wouldn’t it, seeing that big lump’s face just crumple up, I don’t know if I could stand it—”

The strings had managed to come up over his mouth, now, and Virgil could only snarl wordless threats at Deceit as he struggled, and Deceit cackled, yellow eye glinting in the light, and he dropped the hoodie into nothing at all, making it vanish.

“Goodness, Virgil, I must say, you’ll do such a good job protecting them from here.”

Deceit stepped back, into the dark, and Virgil could see the smirking sneer as he prepared to close the door, about to leave Virgil to struggle useless and alone in the bright lights of the hallway.

“Don’t worry, Virgil,” Deceit purred. “I won’t hurt them.”

taglist: @somewhatsanders @tommysandypantsisasolarnymph @erlenmeyertrash @lindesensate @lakesandquarries @lacandra @midnightcandy @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @analogicalisreal @stay-in--place @pinkeasteregg @kanejandkruge @livenarrator

#text #my fic #lamp #deceit #uhhh buckle up kids #virgil #it's primarily virgil tbh #marionette #logan #patton #roman

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theshatteredrose · 7 years ago

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The Treasure Seeker - Saga 1 - Chapter 6 (Etrian Odyssey 5 Fanfiction)

AN: Relatively short chapter today. Sorry about that, but I had a few other projects to do. The next chapter should hopefully be longer. If I can get it done with Christmas on the way. We’ll have to wait and see. Until then, hope you enjoy reading~

AO3 | Wattpad | FFNet

Chapter 6:

After both Faelen and Fiorello agreed to join the guild, Fiorello went right to work ordering around his new teammate, fussing over him as he chided him about his health. Though Faelen had been intimidated at the very beginning, Drayce noted that he seemed relieved to have someone worry over him. And to do so blatantly.

Drayce himself was pleased, exceptionally so, at the turn of events. He didn’t help Faelen with the intention of wanting him to join. He helped him because he needed to help. He asked him to join mostly out of protectiveness as he didn’t want any other guild to use and dump him like Fiorello claimed so many new explorers did these days.

With Faelen settling in to get more rest and Fiorello more than eager to inspect his new clinic, and with Blayke agreeing to watch over the two of them, Ashton proceeded to drag Drayce out of the Crescenta. He wanted to take him to meet the contact he had mentioned that morning.

With the possibility of being able to geek out with someone as interested as he was in treasures and ancient myths, Drayce was more than happy to be led through the city. As they walked, Ashton explained to him that his friend and fellow researcher was called Shashi (his full name was Shashikiran but preferred Shashi which was fortunate as with a name that long Drayce was going to give him a nickname anyway) and his little brother Kamali. Though not treasure hunters or explorers themselves, they certainly knew their myths and legends.

And both were experts in reading ancient scripture and detecting mana in all its forms.

Drayce knew a few key words of the ancient language, but definitely not enough to translate entire documents on his own. So to know and work with someone who could do just that would certainly make things so much easier for him. And if they enjoyed their work as a translator, even better. He was more than willing to allow and help someone to indulge in their passion.

“Here we are,” Ashton said as he led him to a simple two floor apartment and up the small flight of stairs to the porch. “Be sure to remember how to get here. I’m sure once, after you complete the first mission, you’ll be visiting here a lot.”

“Dude, why do you and Blayke keep reminding of that?” Drayce said, mildly indignant with his hands on his hips. “I do know how to prioritise.”

Ashton glanced over his shoulder at him with a smile on his lips. “Prioritise, sure. Restraint, no. I know what you treasure hunters are really like. The attention span of a flea.”

“Rude.”

Ashton just chuckled as he knocked lightly on the door. Drayce dropped his hands from his lips and smoothed out his expression into that of friendliness, already over Ashton’s insinuation that he had no self-control.

A few moments later, there was the sound of a lock disengaging and the door opened a crack. Someone then peered through the small opening meekly uttering out; “Yes? Who is it?”

“It’s just me, Kamali,” Ashton replied gently. “I’m back with Drayce, like I said this morning, remember?”

A sound of understanding was heard before the door opened fully to reveal a slender Celestian with long light purple hair that framed his face and tumbled down over his shoulders and back. His hair appeared to reach his lower back and this particular shade of purple made his blue-purple eyes quite distinct. He wore the clothes similar to that of a warlock, though a deep emerald green in colour.

He fidgeted slightly with a button on his coat as Ashton stepped inside with Drayce right behind him. He was no doubt nervous, for whatever reason, about receiving a visitor, so Drayce kept his expression light and friendly so not to somehow frighten or unnerve the Celestian.

“Drayce, this is Kamali,” Ashton introduced. “Shashi’s little brother.”

Drayce turned to give Kamali his full attention and found him looking back at him with a sense of curiosity. So he gave him a good-natured, friendly salute with his hand. “Hey, pleasure to meet you.”

Kamali blinked at him, startled by the greeting before he seemed to compose himself. With a light flush to his cheeks, he bowed his head lowly. “Ah, n-nice to meet you, too.”

Drayce tilted his head to the side slightly while Ashton simply smiled reassuringly at Kamali. Obviously he was quite skittish with everyone. That was ok. Hopefully, if he did agree to join his guild (once he brought it up with him, of course), then maybe they could help him become more confident around other people.

“I don’t need to ask if Shashi is in or not, do I?” Ashton asked Kamali.

Pulling himself to stand straight, Kamali turned to give Ashton his attention and a light frown appeared on his lips. “He’s in his usual place; his office.”

“Ah,” Ashton said as he dropped his arms to his sides and turned to walk further into the residence, to the door located a few feet away from the front door.

With Kamali moving to follow, Drayce took that as his cue to enter as well.

And as he stepped into the room behind Ashton and Kamali, his mouth nearly dropped open from surprise.

The room wasn’t all that big, but it literally wall to wall with bookcases, scrolls, tomes, and other paper based articles. Honestly, the place looked awesome. There had to be some treasure maps hidden away in here. To be written in an ancient language meant they were old.

Cryptic puzzles and riddles must abound, as well.

Drayce hadn’t met this Shashi guy, but he was more than certain he would get along with him, spectacularly at that.

Ashton looked around the room and frowned. “I can’t see him,” he said as he turned his attention back to Kamali.

“He’s here,” Kamali insisted as he twisted his hands together nervously in front of him. “I can sense him. He’s definitely here.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s here,” Ashton said with a half grin on his face as he took a couple of steps into the room. “He never leaves. The key is where about in this room he is.”

Drayce had to grin as both Ashton and Kamali cautiously began to walk around the room, idly poking at random piles and mounds of paperwork. The chorus of “Shashi, we know you’re here” and “brother, please” followed the two around the room and Drayce simply found his amusement growing.

He then noticed a slight movement from the corner of his eye. He turned his head to see another mound of tightly rolled scrolls began to quiver and move. And just as he opened his mouth to alert the two searchers, the piles of paperwork seemed to explode to life as someone, a Celestian with purple hair a similar shade to Kamali burst free from the pile, gasping loudly for breath.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this Celestian must be Shashi.

“What?” Kamali all but squawked as he hastily made his way over to the Celestian that must be the one called Shashi. “What happened?”

“Nothing much,” Shashi replied in a surprisingly disinterested way as he idly brushed a few of the small scrolls from his hair and shoulders before he stood up. “I fell asleep at my desk and these scrolls I had been translating must have fallen atop of me. And one of the small square pieces of paper I use to scribble upon had landed on my nose and mouth, nearly suffocating me.”

Drayce blinked, his grin of amusement still in place, while both Ashton and Kamali sighed loudly with exasperation.

“Again?” Kamali asked as his shoulders drooped in defeat. “I told you to stop falling asleep at your desk. You have a perfectly good bed in your room.”

Shashi continued to brush himself down and tidy himself up. “That’s covered in scrolls waiting to be translated, too.”

Drayce didn’t think it was possible, but Kamali’s shoulders drooped forward even more. He didn’t say anything, just sighed aloud again. And again, it was that of pure exasperation.

Emitting a low chuckle of amusement, Ashton crossed the room to stand before Shashi. He then unexpectedly reached his hand up toward Shashi’s neck and he idly brushed aside his light purple hair, allowing it to tumble freely over his shoulder. Shashi blinked at him as Ashton pulled back his hand, to reveal a square scrap of paper.

“Behave,” Ashton unexpectedly said as he pressed the piece of paper to Shashi’s forehead. “You have a guest.”

Finally Shashi turned his attention in Drayce’s direction and his gaze fearlessly locked onto Drayce’s. A flicker of realisation appeared in his blue-purple eyes. “Ah, you must be Roux’s grandson.”

Drayce nodded his head. “Right. You know Grandpa?”

“Know of him,” Shashi said as he walked over to Drayce, his movements smooth and graceful.

He looked rather elegant. If Drayce had not seen for himself Shashi gasping for air after being smothered in a pile of ancient scrolls, he would never have believed it if someone else told him. Although, he did know better than to judge a book by its cover.

“Our father knew him better,” Shashi continued. “Truth be told, the majority of documents found here are thanks to your grandfather and my father working together.”

“That sounds awesome,” Drayce said in earnest. “I bet they got into so much trouble together. Or rather, Grandpa dragged him onto his little adventures, right?”

The corner of Shashi’s mouth twitched in amusement. “Oh, he tagged along willing. Do you have an experience with ancient scripture?”

“Eeh, only the essentials,” Drayce admitted unashamed. “Words like treasure, map, curse, and you know, run. That sort of thing.”

“Knowing when to run is a good thing to know, yes,” Shashi said idly.

He then suddenly stared silently at him for a few moments, his blue-purple eyes boring straight into Drayce’s once more. He suddenly drew in a sharp breath as he nodded his head.

“I like you,” he said as he abruptly turned away from Drayce to look at his brother, Kamali. “You should join his guild.”

Kamali stiffened and looked at his brother in surprise. Drayce, himself, blinked because, honestly, that came out of nowhere. He was still pleased because that meant he didn’t have to broach the subject himself.

“W-what? Really?” Kamali stammered.

“I think it will be good for you,” Shashi said as he walked over to his younger brother and placed his hands upon his shoulders. “The labyrinth, though marred with dangers, is still a place of mana and nature. It should help with your training. Also, your ability to detect mana and read ancient runes may prove critical to the quest to find the Lost Treasures.”

Kamali looked into his brother’s face, his own holding an expression of uncertainty. He then gave a half smile was a mixture of nervousness and suspicion. “You just want to make sure that any documents that are found will immediately be handed to you.”

“Yes,” Shashi said unashamedly before he lifted his hand from Kamali’s shoulder and gently took a hold of his chin. “But also, it will be good for you.”

Drayce held back a snort of amusement. This guy seemed awesome. He liked him, too. He was sure his brother was just as interesting.

He did look a little nervous, though.

“You don’t have to answer right away,” Drayce said, hoping to put Kamali at ease. “No pressure here. Why don’t you visit the Crescentia first and meet the others?”

“That would be the best place to start,” Shashi said as he idly flicked a strand of Kamali’s hair from his eyes. “Kamali here is extraordinarily adept at Detect Mana, too much so, it seems. Stagnated energy that bustling cities such as Iorys offers makes him feel both listless and skittish. I believe that being surrounded by like-mind individuals in the natural setting of the labyrinth should help him clear and cleanse his aura.”

So, he needed to enter the labyrinth as well.

“Kamali will be more than welcomed to join,” Drayce said. “I haven’t officially registered with the guildmaster yet as I was waiting to form a party of five. If I’m to enter the labyrinth, I want to do it right.”

Both Shashi and Kamali turned to look at him. Though Shashi was taller than Kamali and his hair was a slightly a lighter shade of purple, they looked almost identical. However Shashi had the emotion of gratitude in his eyes while Kamali seemed to look at him in awe. But then a small smile of pure relief appeared on his lips.

“Ok,” he said with a nod of his head. “I will join. But…I also would like to visit your guildhouse and meet the others, if that’s ok?”

Drayce smiled warmly. “Absolutely. If you like, I can lead you there now.”

“No time like the present,” Shashi said as he took Kamali’s shoulder in his hand and pushed him lightly in Drayce’s direction. “Be sure to show your new teammates your wondrous Detect Mana ability.”

Kamali frowned lightly as he turned to face his brother. “I’m not stealing any scrolls for you,” he both scolded and chided.

Shashi tisked at him. “I wasn’t expecting you to. But, if you just happen to find something, I’m sure Drayce won’t mind me having a peek at it.”

“Brother, please,” Kamali sighed with exasperation.

As Drayce watched the two brothers interact, smiling at how close they truly seemed to be, he felt an unexpected pain in his chest. It was a hollow feeling. As if he was missing something.

Idly, he reached up with his hand to lightly rub at his chest through his shirt.

He…didn’t understand that hollow pain at all. He would get it occasionally. It was a strange feeling of sadden remembrance. That was the only way he could describe it. It was like his heart remembered something, something dear and important, but his mind just could not recall.

Ashton clasping a hand to his shoulder caused Drayce to drop his hand from his chest and to turn to look at the other man.

“You all right?” Ashton asked him.

Drayce blinked at him before offering him a smile, one he hoped was that of reassurance. “Dude, of course. I’m just ecstatic that I have enough guildmembers now. Soon I’ll complete that first mission so you and Blayke will need to find something else to nag at me about.”

Ashton arched an eyebrow at him. “Oh, I’m sure we can find something else to pester you about. After you complete the first mission, of course.”

“Dude, why so rude?”

#Etrian Odyssey #etrian odyssey 5 #the treasure seeker #angelward guild #fanfiction

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dedbybaelite · 7 years ago

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The Curious Case of the Crazy Koala (Bojack Season 4 spoilers)

Don’t

This really only has a slight Bojack reference at the end if you're a Bojack fan this isn't some fan theory, it's just me trying to adapt something that happens in the show with my real personal life.

So I was recently at the end of a relationship, that for a while, I thought was terribly unexplained and unsatisfying, but I've finally come to terms with what happened. Or at least a theory that satisfies my mindmeat (I've never called it that before and tbh it's stupid).

It all started in late summer when I was smitten and wanted to hang out with this koala probably in retrospect too much. Like I know people need to breathe but I was legitimately way happier and to be honest I felt more like the person I wanted to be with them. My feelings were super mushy and like every movie trope it had to go bad at some point. That point was sharpest when we went to hang out before they had other responsibilities later in the day. This was fine by me-- I just wanted to be around them, but that day they felt really distant. Like the conversation was forced and jilted and obviously something was up. So I asked if anything was wrong and of course nothing is because somewhere along the line I lost the trust or never got to the level needed to hear them out or they just weren't in the mood. All three choices hurt so I sucked it up and tried my best to lighten the mood, but I never really succeeded because doubt is a poison that spreads too fast and the next thing you know it's taken over everything.

Thankfully a time restraint gets us out, but on the drive back doubt takes over and I ask again what's up and they say they don't think they're the type of person that can have a relationship--

Now for you Bojack fans accidentally reading this, this is where the Bojack lore comes in. I know the show makes fun of the Zoe/Zelda dichotomy and how fans of shows project themselves on the characters and lazily point at the flaws and characteristics and ascribe them to themselves and make themselves 2D representations of themselves, BUT I’M MISTER PEANUT BUTTER. I'm a big, dumb, goofy Labrador that is nice to everyone and tries to treat people the way I want to be treated. Like Mr. PB, I know that the world is a cruel, unforgiving hellscape but if you can help your friends out and help yourself you can make it a little less shitty and then you die. That's the game, folks. So as a person that knows everything is fleeting and wants everyone to be happy I took the phrase "I don't think I can be in a relationship" to be "I don't think I can be in a relationship with you" because I failed at making them happy. I send them a message I spent too much time editing during work and it doesn't say anything about how vulnerable I feel or how I need to regroup. It instead asks for some movies I lent them back and check to see if we're still friends. They send a message about how I'm great and they're terrible and I read it as a sign of guilt and not one of vulnerability. The next day I send a message about how we screwed up on communication and they offered no new insight. This doesn't help me because my mindmeat (why do I) runs a million different scenarios and all of them are my fault (invite too much, invite not enough, too mushy, not mushy enough, I did gain some weight, probably some other dude swooped her up, lesbian??) I didn't listen to what she actually said and I didn't pick up that it wasn't something I could fix.

So I retreat, hoping to catch my breath in the friend zone, but even there doubt lingers and I see a change in messages and quickly feel like the friendship stuff is fake too, so I send a message with my worries and I get cold, dead busy signal with a warning of a disconnect. At that point I knew nothing was salvageable because I overextended and couldn't feel any warmth anymore and that I failed the test.

Back to bojack, at the end of season 4 Mr. Peanut butter's relationship falls apart because Mr. Peanut butter is a bad listener and it fucking killed me to watch because I was screwing up the same way. The problem with whistling past the graveyard is sometimes you don't hear the rest of your party stop. And so them saying they feel like a terrible person probably wasn't an admission of guilt, but probably them being stuck looking into the marsh and getting pulled in by the candles.

I'm not well equipped for that though. When I moved as a kid I lost a lot of friends and was super depressed. I had fourth grade notebooks talking about dying and killing myself because I felt so alone and I missed my boy scout troop, but we moved for my dad's promotion and eventually that extra money led to family trips which led to me realizing that there is so much more to live for and how small and insignificant most problems are. That nugget of my own self truth got me through so much shit but it was something I had to find on my own (honestly through a lot of books and movies) and as the old idiom says you can’t make a horseman drink or whatever.

When I started hanging out with this person and they would be sad, I'd take them out of town and usually that would cheer them up. But one time during a subway ride back their depression flared up and I had nothing to fight it with because one of the only tools I had was currently in use and, again, instead of asking about it, I think I made some shitty joke and we went to another place that makes me happy and they didn't bring it up again that trip. So I thought it must work for everyone, now to never run out of places... I didn't do the smart thing of looking up other ways to help because I figured trips worked, but my ineffectiveness on that subway haunted every interaction after.

Now only in hindsight can I see this is where I screwed up. Of course this is just wild speculation and it could just be my neurosis of trying to fix everything trying to fix everything. But the truth is more open communication solves most problems and the doubt I felt was clouding my judgement and they weren’t really trying to address the issue either. What they needed was someone to understand the call and response of a depressed person. I’d offer compliments and mush unprompted and they would kind of deject it with some self depreciation, so when they prompted a need for that I missed the cue, which is terrible because I could've complimented them all god damn day because they are a great person.

But when they sent the message a couple weeks later saying being a friend isn’t an option anymore, I was still in the mindset that it was over already. What followed next was probably the coldest goodbye I’ve ever experienced and it kind of tainted the whole affair. Only recently did I look on it with a different light because a mutual friend (an old coworker) said they fell off the face of world for them too. It was also during that time that I started going through the years pictures and seeing the happy little moments and recognizing that though it's over those memories are always going to be apart of me and that choosing to just remember the good is a better way to move on but I should also learn to really listen and to establish a solid base of openness.

But why here and tagged with Bojack? Well before memelords came and overran the place, tumblr was a blogging site were you could connect on a more personal level and I think a couple of my mutuals are going through some tough shit and maybe seeing someone like them work through it could them get through their situation. i don’t know-- I feel like every story has a lesson and maybe we can gleam something off of this one. And I’m also a firm believer in writing being therapeutic, so just dumping all of this from my buffer can let me think of something else for a change.

happy new year

#personal #burn #bojack horseman #bojack season 4

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