#maybe i need a real life. im trying but the real world is scarier i dont wanna be there | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pwnyta · 4 years ago

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OK GONNA GRIPE!! Everyone in the world (like 5-6 people) said im allowed to and encouraged me but honestly most of my gripes are Bakugo as a character so I’ll try a little fix it... it will be under the cut.

BUT GRIPES-

The Sports Festival. I loved it... I thought it was great with some exceptions-

Bakugo v Uraraka is the most obvious example of Horikoshi bending characters to make Bakugo seem better than he is. Literally the whole festival no one says shit about the female contestants, its not a plot point, no ones bothered when Tokoyami vs Momo happens but Bakugo fights Uraraka and the whole ass stadium starts running their mouths about Bakugo being kind of an asshole and being mean to Uraraka cuz shes a soft girl even though shes holding her own and Momo panicked and lost in a sad way.

Bakugo attacked Shouto after knocking him out but he doesnt get disqualified. Even if Horikoshi wanted to set up the LoV targeting him he coulda just had them see the footage of Bakugo attacking Todo and his reaction to disqualification and figuring that hed be more willing to turn coat.

The relationships with Endeavor with Shoto and All Might is one of those things that seems like its going to be a set up for something... But never goes anywhere. All Might hadnt spoke to Endeavor for years before that moment when he asks Endeavor for advice on how to train kids because he was impressed with Shoutos performance but Endeavors like ‘I’ll turn him into someone who can surpass you thats why I MADE HIM‘ and All Mights like ‘wtf? wat‘ but it goes no where...

//end Sports festival kinda...

I have so many issues with how Horikoshi built Shouto as a character to be like on the same level as Deku and Bakugo but hes not apart of that group. Their connection as kids is All Might... Shouto should have learned about one for all and the three of them should grow together more.

IDKY Shouto has this past where All Might is his hero, hes one of the big three, but hes excluded.

All im saying is Shouto (and honestly Bakugo) could have used a lot more screen time.

----

During the training camp arc Tokoyami loses control of his Quirk and almost kills a handful of his classmates and is also grabbed by the LoV with Bakugo... and it NEVER COMES UP AGAIN.

Of course the traitor plot line thats ignored for a million years only to be brought up again just to say it never actually mattered... is another one of those ‘This was a good set up for something and you did nothing with it...‘ situation. I still think Kouda is possible. Theres no reason the Principal is an animal... theres no reason why Kouda could be able to pass the entrance exam where Shinso couldnt they basically have the same Quirk. Kouda is quiet and unassuming and he can communicate very easily in secret and could theoretically control Nezu and make him say shit like ‘Theres no war in Ba Sing Se‘ and everyone would just accept it.... But like its been so long why even bother... itd be weird.

Honestly Shinsos whole... thing is also weird. But he was brought back for... like no real pay off. His tragic story doesnt even make sense... people mocking him for having a ‘villains’ Quirk... this is similar to the Bakugo/Uraraka thing. Because thats not a thing... we dont see that literally anywhere else. I mean Shouji mentions that people think his face is a little scary but thats it. There are pros with scary Quirks and even scarier looks, Tokoyami has a literal sentient DARKNESS living in him and a bird face.... but Shinso has problems? Really.

The same can be said about the CRC. Theres a whole hate group youve created to bring up to make Spinner a little more sympathetic but its never been mentioned before or since even though there are characters in the main crew with animal/creature characteristics. Again Tokoyami is right there.

Kirishima is a weird character to have made as prominent as he is because hes got literally no connection to the main story. Shouto shoulda had his screentime. I love Kirishima and his little story with Fatgum and fighting that big bitch was fucking bitchin... but like? Why Kirishima... also whats with Crimson Riot? What does he or Kirishima have to do with anything.

Shouto has the connections. It shoulda been Shouto.

How the fuck did Hawks get away with tricking the LoV with a fake body of Best Jeanist? Why not just have Hawks kill him... it makes more sense and it helps build a case for the corrupt hero society(or at least the higher ups) a little if theyre willing to kill one of their own. I like Best Jeanist but its fucking weird.

And Ive already bitched enough about the corruption of hero society and the lack of evidence story-wise...

I genuinely thought something would go down with Tensei because him being attacked made no sense even though Stain is shown to be very consistent in his belief to the point of endangering himself as shown when he literally went out of his way to save Deku. So why the fuck did he attack Tensei when everything weve seen of the guy is just a good, considerate, selfless hero.

He could have also been used to set up the corruption BUT NOTHING COMES OF IT.

And I mean like some of this stuff could come up later... but its been drawn out so long its weird... a lot of this shit would likely have a continuous direct effect on the story at large if Horikoshi just didnt... ignore it.

NOW BAKUGO. But because everyone knows I hate him Im gonna put my money where my mouth is and try to make him a little better... Cuz hes fucking garbage.

OK First up... Keep him exactly how he is until this moment exactly-

This is the worst moment for me with Bakugo because I thought he looked like that because he was shocked at himself for doing something so fucked up.

Cuz he does want to be a hero and he looks up to All Might.

So after this moment he dials it back a little on the douchebaggery.... hes sorta more distant and still kind of a jerk but but hes more avoiding Deku/conflict until we get to the Sports Festival!

He cant help himself hes competitive and aggressive and the steeper the competition gets the more he falls back into being that hyper aggressive violent person he wants to not be.

The Sports Festival goes as expected and its not until after and he sees himself that he gets uncomfortable again and tries to mellow out again.

Then the practical exam happens and hes paired with Deku but instead of being needlessly antagonistic they actually DO work together... they can bicker and have different ideas of how to win but then get desperate by the end and actually work together cuz THIS-

WAS SO SHITTY. It didnt need to happen. Also earlier when Bakugo is being an asshole in class Aizawa fully acknowledges Bakugo going down a dark path... and does like nothing about it... (You cant really blame him... Baku gets away with everything.)

ANYWAYS. So they reluctantly work together and work well together... Bakugo still feels kinda shitty and annoyed that Deku is at his level..

When Bakugo gets snatched by the LoV I think could REALLY be the biggest turning point...

Instead of Bakugo just continuing on like he does maybe this would be a great moment for him to realize that dark path hes been on. The Villains speak to him and theyre like ‘youd be a great villain‘ and its like that scene in Dr Who when Nine flips out and screams at the last Dalek tells it to go and die... and the Dalek goes ‘Youd make a good Dalek‘ which just gut punches him.

Its like that Bakugo thinks about the shits hes been doing after the villains think they can convince him to join them, he thinks about All Might and his life long dream to be a hero and hes disturbed that he COULD be a villain.

They take off the cuffs... he attacks them as per usual but its not with that cocky attitude.

///Bakugo gets saved

He thanks Kirishima... and thanks the others. It can be a cute moment GDI!

The fight between Bakugo and Deku could be Bakugo asking Deku to spar. Thats what he wants. He wants to test the both of them and Deku agrees so when Aizawa gets pissed at them both ITS DESERVED instead of Aizawa punishing Deku for defending himself.

And that can still be the moment Bakugo has his little breakdown and blaming himself for All Mights retirement.

And then just go from there... Bakugos character development coulda been smooth

#BNHA ranting.

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toothpastecanyon · 5 years ago

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We Walk Like Humans Do, Chapter 2

The Transcendence has been, on the whole, a good thing for magical creatures... for the ones that walked on two legs and fit in doorways, at least. Lacie has other problems to overcome before she can live in the big city.

Thanks to @feferipeixes for help editing this chapter! Go check out their awesome stuff!

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

________________________________________________________________

Oh, my stars. Alcor hasn’t laughed this hard in lifetimes.

Chapter 2 of Wizard Animago’s Not-So-Secret Spellbook - Everything You Already Knew About Transfiguration and Literally Nothing Else

Hi, I’m 18Lacie5 and I wrote another chapter for you humans. Everyone was really confused on my last post and seemed to think it was a joke, so I’ll start out by answering the five most common questions you had.

1 - Yes, I am a basilisk.

2 - No, I am not the basilisk from Harry Potter.

3 - No, I do not live in the Chamber of Secrets from Harry Potter.

4 - No, I am not the horcrux snake from Harry Potter.

5 - No, I am not in any way related to Harry Potter.

Are we all on the same page now? Good, because holy shit some of you really missed the point here. I got a visit from one of you with a replica of Gryffindor’s sword, and that was so annoying I didn’t even feel bad killing him - like dude, all that tells me is I KNOW you read my post about not coming down here, and then decided to come down here anyway ‘cause fuck me, right?

(The sword wasn’t even that good. It was made of cheap plastic, snapped like a spine.)

Anyway, despite all this the last post was fun to write, so I’m doing it again. Also it seems like the number of visits from treasure hunters has gone down since I posted, though it’s hard to tell. There’s not really a consistent number from year to year, and the day I start keeping a deathcount is the day I give up on life and buy a mirror to see if I can kill myself with my own reflection.

For science, you know?

Alcor’s read the entire blog by now and it’s just perfect. The snark, the sarcasm, the casual disregard towards human lives that could only have been written by an ancient and powerful being - it’s hilarious! And the spell entries… man, he could listen to Lacie tear apart someone’s Latin any day of the decade. If only she could come to some of his summons; she’d have so much material to work with there.

With a chuckle, Alcor looks up and glances around the darkness of the Mindscape. He needs to show this to someone. But who? Mizar? She’s only a year into the current reincarnation… hmm, she might be a little too young to understand it. Lucy Ann’s somewhere around; he probes for her, and finds her - dammit - during naptime at some kindergarten in Portland.

Anyone else?

…

No one else.

There’s absolutely no one else in his life right now. That’s… that’s a fun reminder.

He sighs, and sits back on the fabric of reality. Maybe some cultists’ll summon him; he could read them a blog post, see if they laugh. That’d be fun, right?

Al narrows his eyes at the great nothingness before him. It’d be something, at least.

...You know, he can feel a little tug now.

A weak one, just one summoner, and no circle. That confuses him at first - even the real amateurs usually manage to scribble out some sort of rounded shape - and when he looks closer, he sees it’s holding one of his summoning cards, holding it in its… hand?

No, not quite a hand, and Alcor jolts right up as he realises shit that’s Lacie trying to call him, shit he didn’t think she’d call him back so soon! How long did he keep her waiting? It’s been a couple hours - shit!

Alcor tessers over to her in an instant, his mouth already open and spilling apologies: “Oh my stars Lacie, I am so sorry for the delay! I got distracted and I didn’t think you’d call back so soon so I wasn’t watching as closely as I-”

A deep, rumbling growl cuts him off. It’s a deafening sound, coming from a creature lounging on a pile of bones and gold with teeth the size of Alcor’s entire body; he can’t help but cringe at that. He takes a deep breath, remind himself that he’s an all-powerful demon who definitely doesn’t need to be scared of some mere mortal… even if she is pretty scary for a mortal.

You know, relatively speaking. He isn’t scared, he just thinks she’s scarier than, like, a human. Like a human from that pile of human skeletons she’s smashed into the wall. Yeah, that’s not scary at all. That wouldn’t kill him… looks like it would hurt, though.

He double checked he isn’t standing near that spellbook she’s bound to, right?

Just as he’s thinking this, Lacie lets out another even louder growl, and he jumps back with an undignified yelp.

“Hey, whoa, Lacie!” Alcor watches her head shift to the side. “Lacie? Hello?”

She doesn’t reply, and he looks to her face for an answer. He sees one of her eyes now: it’s closed?

Closed.

The realisation washes over him as she lets out another slow, rumbling snore.

“Oh. You’re… you’re just sleeping, aren’t you. Duh.” He straightens, and casts a glance around the room as he fixes his tie and straightens his hat. “Glad no one noticed that… Lacie?”

She doesn’t stir, and Alcor makes a face. He’s never turned up to a summons and had the summoner fall asleep; would she want him to wake her up? Her dreams feel pretty peaceful to him, and even though that thing - is that a giant laptop? - she’s using as a pillow doesn’t look particularly comfy, it doesn’t seem to bother her in the slightest.

Yeah, it looks like he should just let her call him back… but there is something. Embedded in her sluggish thoughts, he can feel a sort of drive, a sort of desperation, and that makes him hesitate. He looks for her tail, and spots it still wrapped around his summoning card, still squeezing it in a death grip.

Alcor frowns. He watches her snore one more time, then makes up his mind. With a deep breath, he reaches out and prods at her thoughts; they immediately begin to stir. He prods again, and Lacie lets out a grunt. Her eyelid cracks open, and she drags a sleepy glare across the room.

Her gaze meets his, and he feels pain, pain in his soul, his soul feels like it’s being pushed out through his ears ow ow OW- and he recoils, unable to bear it for a second longer.

Wow, he thinks, that really is potent. What on earth makes it so powerful?

Before he can wonder about that, there’s a noise. Gold coins clink against each other as Lacie jerks up, blinking hard, panic flashing in her aura. Alcor holds up his hands.

“Hey, hey, it’s just me!” He looks down as she fixes her eyes on him. “Sorry if you, uh, didn’t want to be woken up, I just thought… you know, you called me, and… what are you doing?”

She’s cast the summoning card aside and is now wiggling the touchpad on her laptop. He cocks his head.

“Whoa, I’ve never seen a laptop that big. Where on Earth did you buy that?”

Lacie doesn’t acknowledge his question. She starts typing something, and he floats closer to see her login screen.

“18Lacie5. Heh, I like your username.” He watches her click on the password box and slowly, painstakingly jab each key with her tail. “E… Y… E… What? Why are you looking at me like- oh. Oh, I’m so sorry!”

There’s a faint snort from Lacie as he turns away. His cheeks redden.

“Sorry, I forget hu- uh, mortals? Mortals tend to like their privacy on stuff… it’s kind of useless since Al-V can hack into pretty much any computer on earth - um, the Alcor Virus, that’s Alvie.” He hears the typing stop, and suddenly wishes he’d chosen literally any other topic in the world. “Um, not that I would make him hack into your computer! I’m just saying he could, and he probably has already… um, I just made him to get rid of Twin Souls though, you’re fine! O-or you should be fine - you don’t, by any chance, happen to like Twin Souls, do you? It’s, um, this book - well it’s a movie now but it was a book - and Mizar - who is my sister by the way - well, that’s why I hate it, because it has my sister and I, umm…ugh, sorry, it’s gross, my sister and I, we’re- huh?”

A low hiss makes him look back, and he sees Lacie - ow - staring right at him. She gestures to the screen, which has a word document open on it with big, bold letters.

“Oh, you want me to read that?” He floats closer, and frowns as he reads the first line:

Im pretending 2 type rite now 2 see how long u wil ramble 4 wtf youre still going and now twin souls no nono why r u explaning i actually cant take the awkwardnes i got 2 stop u

Alcor blinks, then shoots her a dirty look. The noise coming out of her now sounds an awful lot like snickering.

“Wha- I was just-! I just wanted to clarify the hacking thing I said, I-!” The snickering gets louder, and he rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I guess I’m a little rusty at small talk, very funny. I’d like to see how awkward you’d be if the only practice you could get is on a bunch of cultists in basements. They’re not exactly social butterflies either, you know!”

Lacie just keeps laughing, and Alcor… well, he puts on a show of crossing his arms and heaving a long-suffering sigh, but he’s fighting a smile.

It’s strangely nice, being here. Lacie’s strangely nice to be around; she already feels - and he has to remind himself he’s only met her twice - almost like a friend? Maybe he just has a low bar these days, but he hears her laughter, and… it’s just very, very nice. Nice in a way that’s hard to describe.

Nice in a way he hasn’t felt for a while.

The feeling lingers even after Lacie’s chuckling dies off, and he’s still smiling as he watches her reach for the laptop again. She jabs the down arrow a couple times, and some more, better punctuated text comes into view.

I have revised the terms of our deal, it starts, and Alcor clears his throat, squares his shoulders, tries to get himself back into business mode. He reads on: and I would like to exchange the human bones that are currently in my room for a human disguise I am capable of putting on and taking off at will.

He raises an eyebrow as he reaches the end. This is not the deal he was expecting to make. A human disguise… he can tell she’s no demonologist, that’s for sure; there’s so many interpretations of that, so many wonderful ways to tw͏is͡t her̡ ̵w̢or̵d̸s ͏a͟g̢ai͘n̸st͠ ̢h͝er-

No. He shakes his head to clear it of his worst instincts, but they won’t leave, not in the presence of such an enticing deal. Suddenly, he’s glad he doesn’t have to look her in the eyes right now; he trains them on the ground instead, and starts to speak.

“So, um… when you’re saying a ‘human disguise’, what do you mean by that?” He can’t see her face, but he can see a bolt of frustration flash across her aura. “Huh? What’s- oh right, can’t talk, uh… well, do you want me to make an actual, convincing disguise? You know, instead of, like, a wig and some sunglasses?”

Lacie nods vigourously. He watches her tap the caps key and add ‘CONVINCING’ before the human disguise bit. A part of him screams at all the opportunities he’s giving up - willingly! - but he forces a smile and nods.

“Cool, I can do that. I’ve made a few humans before- human bodies, that is, not… um.” Alcor coughs. “Anyway, I can give you a convincing human form for those bones of yours. How does that sound?”

She taps the screen.

“What…? Oh, yes, I’ll make it so you can switch back and forth at will. Good catch. Now, do we have a d̕e͇̪͍̜̻̪͘a̙̻̬̦͔ͅl̲̝͓͔?”

He doesn’t extend a hand to shake, but blue sparks spurt from his fingertips as he watches Lacie mull it over. Her aura fizzles with nervous energy, but it only takes a couple seconds for her to tamp it down and give him a firm nod. The rush of a newly made deal makes his grin go wide; he tries not to let it go too wide as he claps his hands together.

“Alrighty, then,” he says, rubbing them until those sparks turn into a full-blown fire. “One meatsuit coming right up!”

He extends a hand to the pile of bones in the corner of the room, and with a flick of the wrist he rips the energy from them all and absorbs it. The sacrifice warms him like a good meal, and he turns back to Lacie, ready to put that newly-gained power to use.

He steps back and sizes her up with his hands, a gesture that makes her aura simmer with uncertainty. She makes a low, nervous sound, and he waves her away.

“It’s alright, I just… need to remember how big a human is, how much I need to squish you down... Got it!!” Alcor readies his fingers to snap. “Okay, I’ve only done this on myself before, so there might be some kinks I haven’t thought of! Don’t worry, though, I’ll probably be able to fix them!”

Before Lacie could respond, he snaps his fingers, and his magic rushes around her like a cloud. Skin forms over scales, hair grows over horns, and the figure that remains when it disperses is unmistakably human.

It’s also falling to the ground from the height of Lacie’s head, and oh shit catch her catch her catch her - he freezes her momentum a couple inches from the ground then lets her plop, safely but definitely not gracefully, into a puddle.

“Oh, my stars! Are you okay?” Heart pounding in his chest, he dashes over. “I am so sorry about that fall, how are you- ow, okay , I’m gonna need to get you some sunglasses or something - how are you feeling? Here, let me help you up!”

He extends a hand, and Lacie… just stares at it.

Just stares at him, not moving, and he can feel panic flaring up in her aura as she can’t move, oh stars she’s so tiny right now and she can’t move oh fuck-

Alcor blinks. “Oh, right. Um, don’t panic-”

Don’t panic??? DON’T PANIC??? FUCK THIS SHE’S LIKE FIVE INCHES TALL RIGHT NOW AND SHE CAN’T FUCKING MOVE OH MY STARS WHY DID SHE DO THIS TO HERSELF THIS IS THE STUPIDEST FUCKING IDEA SHE’S EVER HAD IN HER LIFE-

“Lacie? Take a deep breath… Lacie? Lacie!” He cringes when Lacie’s eyes fix on him again. “Okay, um, I can see this is… a little stressful for you?”

She nods vigourously.

“Alright, um… don’t worry, I made it easy for you to change back! You just, y’know, gotta think of yourself being a basilisk again - or is it pronounced ‘battle-isk’? ‘Bas-til-isk’? Heh, that’s a weird word, I’ve only ever seen it written down-”

Lacie ditches her human disguise as fast as she could, shooting back out to her original form and cutting Alcor off mid-tangent. He jumps back, watching relief flood through her aura as she could move again, thank the stars she could actually move and everything’s normal sized again… fuck, everything’s normal sized again. She wasted her deal!

The relief’s spiking up into another panic, and Alcor clears his throat. “Alright, so that deal didn’t go to plan. No worries! I can’t exactly do refunds, but you’ve still got plenty of good stuff to sacrifice in here! Doesn’t bother me if this takes a few tries, heh.”

But that doesn’t calm Lacie in the slightest, because now she has to think of another deal, her mind’s blank, she’s got nothing! But she’ll fall asleep if she makes Alcor leave again… maybe she will have to go for that deal.

It’s hard to read her thoughts when they go quiet, but Alcor definitely picks up something about that deal as they’re retreating into a murky bubble of disappointment. He sees how she hangs her head at the idea, then lugs her laptop over to her, begins to peck away at the keys.

He sees that, and frowns. “Hey, uh,” he starts, and right away her eyes dart over to him. “If you don’t want to make a new deal, I’m sure we could make this one work?”

Lacie cocks her head.

“I mean, I’ve been… I know a thing or two about being in a human body. It’s been a while, but maybe I could… y’know, show you the ropes?”

She doesn’t say a word. The silence stretches, and Alcor laughs nervously.

“I-if you want. I mean, it’s been a while, but maybe I could show you enough to get around? I did technically promise your disguise would be ‘convincing’, so a couple human lessons should be easy enough to fit in, without… without another deal... um, I don’t know if you like this idea or you want me to stop talking? If you do that’s fine, I can do another deal, just give me a-”

There’s a sort of fwoomp sound, and the coils and coils of Lacie’s body seem to twist out of existence. At the same time, a human takes shape where her head was, and falls right into Alcor’s arms before he has time to blink.

“-a sign?” He finishes, and stares down at her. She stares right back, and he’d admire the steely resolve, the carefully-controlled fear in her gaze a whole lot longer if it didn’t make his soul want to push itself out through his ears.

“Oh, Okay. Wow, you’re, um… diving right in, huh?”

Lacie gives her closest approximation to a human smile, and Alcor’s caught off guard by how quickly he finds himself grinning back. An actual, genuine grin stretches across his face for the first time in too long, and he chuckles.

“Alright, Lacie, I like your gumption!” He summons a pair of sunglasses, and sticks them over her eyes. “Let’s get humaning!”

________________________________________________________________

Humaning. Lacie had taught herself many human things over the years; she’d taught herself to read, to type, to write - heck, she’d even managed to summon a demon (and in proper human tradition, had made a poorly thought-out deal with it.) She was no novice in learning how to human.

Maybe that’s why she thought the whole human form was a good idea. She was great at humaning! She’d taught herself so many of their skills, educated herself on so many of their customs, she was able to pass as one of them online… sometimes, it really didn’t feel like she was all that different from them.

After all, if she could read like a human and write like a human and think like a human, how hard could it be to walk around like one, too?

…

As it turns out, hard.

Very, very hard.

Duh.

Everything, everything is different in a human body. Sure, she thought having arms and legs would take some getting used to, but how about all this hair? How about her cramped little mouth and her stubby tongue? How about her skin? Her skin is stupidly sensitive without scales; when she was lying on the stone, she could feel every little bump in it, could feel water soaking her, making her shiver - and shivering, ugh! What an awful sensation! Even though Alcor’s got her propped her up in a chair now, her skin won’t stop whining to her that, gasp, the fabric’s a little itchy!

Whoop de fucking do, skin. Hopefully she grows a thicker one soon enough, because this is driving her crazy. She’s laughing at the Lacie of a couple hours ago who thought she’d just be able to stand up and walk out of the sewers, and oh, speaking of walking ?

Hah! Try moving them at all!

Lacie’s been without these strange appendages all her life, and moving them would be like a human trying to nod with a second head they’ve just sprouted - sometimes she’ll get lucky and hit upon whatever bundle of nerves is controlling each of these limbs, and after two hours of Alcor’s patient coaching she can make them twitch on a somewhat consistent basis, but she’s not getting anywhere fast with them any time soon.

She can only lie here, with her blunt teeth, with her papery skin, with her useless limbs…

Helpless.

Absolutely helpless.

Alcor looms over her whenever he stands up… and that scares her more than she thought it would. Everything looms over her in this form; the - she called it little - pile of treasure she sleeps on now seems like a great mountain, the ceiling she often bangs her head on is higher still, impossibly high. She sees her spellbook resting on its lecturn, and it’s about the same size as her now; she remembers how tiny it once seemed, and- OH FUCK WHAT’S GOING- oh, she’s shivering again.

Lacie frowns at that, and she lets out a noise that’s weirdly squeaky in this throat, and Alcor taps her shoulder.

(And she feels that, holy shit skin it’s literally just a hand)

“...need to take a break?” He’s asking. Frowning. “Lacie?”

She nods, quickly, and he takes the sunglasses off her face before scooting back. Closing her eyes, she thinks of being a basilisk again, and all these alien sensations fall away with a flood of relief. Lacie is herself again; she takes a long moment to savour it, to lounge across her sleeping pile, to listen to her scales scratch against the stone floor, to open an eye and see Alcor as a tiny figure in her field of vision.

“That looks comfy.” He says. He’s grinning, but she can barely make that out. “Darn, I should’ve moved the chair, too.”

The chair? She lifts her body, and finds the chair she’d been sitting on, crushed beneath the weight of her coils. With a little chuckle, she sweeps it out from under her, marvelling at how tiny it is - how tiny she was.

Alcor laughs, too. “Sheesh, you flattened it. I think it’ll be easier to make a new chair.”

Laying her head on the ground, she lets out a lazy snort.

“…um, when you’re ready, I mean.” He adds. “Or we can stop, if you’re tired? I can-”

She heaves herself up. Ugh, she is tired - it creeps up on her. She can’t sleep though, not when she’s so close, so fucking close to getting out of here.

“Oh, okay… are you sure? We’ve been at this a while, I really don’t mind taking a break…”

Lacie tugs at that mental link in the back of her mind, and feels herself switch back into human form again. Unlike switching the other way, this form greets her not with a flood of relief, but with a host of silly little complaints: her back hurts, the stone’s not comfy on her face, it’s cold, she’s wet, on and on and on and she just wants it all to shut up… but, she will admit, there is one thing she likes.

Alcor hoists her up on one of those tiny little chairs she’d been laughing at just a second ago, and she stares at him, and she feels awake.

Completely awake.

She can’t remember the last time her head’s felt this clear, and it’s a pity she has to spend half her human time fidgeting in a seat because otherwise it’d be amazing. Is this really how bad the energy situation had gotten down here? Wow, she really needed to get out of here, and fast.

“Hey, Lacie?” Alcor’s saying something, and she looks over at him. “So I know you said - or, uh, indicated, anyway - that you didn’t want a break…”

He pauses expectantly, and then, seeming to realise she isn’t going to follow it up with a ‘Yes?’ clears his throat.

“Right. Well, I kind of would. Like a break. If that’s okay with you.”

Lacie blinks.

“You know, we’ve been doing this for a while, and I’m thinking maybe we could do something else? You know, it could be something fun! It could be something like, um, like… oh, do you play Scrabble?”

She shakes her head.

“No? Oh, I guess that was a longshot… how bout chess? I know there’s like, online chess… no?” He frowns at her continued head-shaking. “Alright, well… What do you do for fun down here?”

Lacie thinks on that for a moment, then turns her head towards the laptop.

“Oh, your laptop? Nice, nice.” He grins at her. “I love your blog.”

Wait, her blog? He’s read that? He likes that? The surprise must be showing on her face, because Alcor starts laughing.

“Yeah, it’s hilarious! I was actually so caught up reading it, I didn’t realise you were summoning me! I love just how sarcastic it is! It’s amazing!”

Lacie blinks. Is he… gushing? Is Alcor the Dreambender gushing about her blog?

Is this her life?

“Man,” he rambles on. “that joke about a killcount, that was great. I just don’t get why it’s not more popular! Humans, they just don’t have any taste… they’re, heh, they’re too busy reading Harry Potter, amirite?”

He nudges her like he’s made some kind of clever reference, and she snorts at him. Okay, wow, demon or not, this guy really is an absolute plonker. She loves it.

“Haha, yeah! They’ve been, uh, playing Quidditch too much to read your stuff! Yeah! Or they’ve been, um… making swords? Making- I should stop now, shouldn’t I.”

With a big dumb grin on her face, she nods.

“Yep, that was getting out of hand.” Alcor rubs his neck. “I just wanted to say I really liked it a lot. It was funny.”

Lacie’s grin got even bigger.

“So, uh, you really have been down here all your life, huh? Dealing with treasure hunters-” He chuckles when she rolls her eyes. “Hah, I can imagine that’s not fun! Yeah... so, uh, have you ever been outside?”

She shakes her head. Maybe before she was old enough to remember, but that was a long, long time ago. Alcor makes a face at that.

“Yeah, yeesh. No wonder you want to get out of here, no wonder…”

He trails off, and Lacie watches his eyes go distant for a second before a thought seems to strike him; he blinks, frowns, then, slowly, he starts to grin. He turns to her again, and she raises an eyebrow at the shine in his eyes.

“Hey, Lacie,” He says. “Want me to take you on a little tour?”

#transcendence au #Lacie #fanfiction

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virryth · 6 years ago

Text

Prince!AU Johnny

Johnny came home ;; #WelcomeHomeJohnny

1835 words | Fluff

Where the prince sneaks out to be come a street musician, not knowing an assassin was on his tail

2nd prince of the dynasty, knows it’s not his responsibility to be king so tend to eff around a lot (but like not actually effing anyone)

the only one in the family with the same mother as the crown prince, but vibes so much better with his younger bros: Mark, Doyoung, and Jaehyun

he’s responsible enough to lead an army and has been entrusted with the title of General the last time the country went to war, but due to war PTSD he decided it wasn’t a life for him–prince Youngho is a pacifist

Prince Yuta however loves the art of war so he took over. When Yuta left for battle Youngho gave him a handkerchief and cried while wishing him good luck

Youngho: come back to me my prince

Yuta and Mak: bro ur embarrassing

likes the art of tea, often has tea party and invites all the local maids and courtesans to have tea with him.

To others it looks like a harem but prince Youngho knows how hard they work and how rare it is for them to just sit and have some time for themselves, so forget what everyone thinks as long as he’s doing his job as a good master to them

a true romantic, loves poetry and a genius at gayageum (12-strings instrument, similar: the Chinese guzheng, the Japanese koto, the Mongolian yatga, and the Vietnamese đàn tranh)

all the girls love lining up outside his open chamber to listen to him play at sunset

even the male servants and soldiers sometimes come to see him play because he’s just that good, the emotion he delivers varies from soft melodic lullaby to vibrantly dynamic compositions

Prince Doyoung: maybe you’re better than me at one thing

he doesn’t play outside the castle!! because he’s afraid he’s gonna get caught, followed, or hunted by assassins since the country has a lot of enemies

But prince Youngho loves sneaking out with prince Jaehyun whenever their distant cousin from neighboring kingdom Ten comes to visit.

The first time was for fun. He plays the gayageum in a disguise named Johnny, out in a small public space, and he got so immersed that by the time he was done there was already a crowd gathering

and he loves the feeling of anonymity so much he keeps sneaking out even when his cousin wasn’t visiting

you were hired by the mother of one of the younger princes to assassinate Prince Youngho. You’re a pay-by-the-job kinda assassin and you just take the information from an anonymous bidder and carry out your job so you really don’t know who your real employer is, and they don’t know your face or anything either.

You were given the assignment to kill Prince Youngho, a pity really, you heard he was a good-natured man with no vie for the throne, but a job is a job and you figured once you get into the castle you’ll probably hear some bad things about him anyway, and maybe what he looks like you honestly have no idea since you were never given an assignment to kill royalty of THIS country before

this is the first time you’ve been in this kingdom tbh, but you made a friend already! the guy called Johnny that plays the gayageum first spoke to you after you spaced out listening to him play, and you offered to pay him bc street musicians have it hard ya know just playing day by day for a meal

and he graciously took the money but used it to buy you both food, which you were surprised by

Johnny was your first friend and throughout your time with him you really didn’t want to lie about why you were in town, but no one wants to be friend with an assassin

until one day on one of your scouting of the castle, you bumped into Johnny!

and you definitely notice how he was dressed in the finest silk robe of all the lands, even if he looks like he’s wearing chamber garment and taking a night stroll before bed

“Hey what a pleasant surprise! although not really, what are you doing here?” he inquired after pulling you over to a blind spot from the guards

you didn’t want to lie to Johnny again, but you didn’t know how to react after finding out that he was, in fact, probably someone of royalty seeing as he’s in the castle wearing very expensive robe in the middle of the night

but you couldn’t, he was definitely Johnny as he recognizes you, he was your friend, and royalty or not, you couldn’t do that

“Johnny listen, you need to get as far away from here as possible 3 nights from now. I’m… I’m telling you this since I trust you with my life.”

Johnny: okay thanks but what why?

but you don’t get to explain further because a guard was approaching and you escaped when Johnny turned around to distract them

the next 3 days you don’t see Johnny. he missed his weekly playing at the public square and you really don’t know why, he’s never done this for the past 2 months you’ve known him

on D-day aka the day you’re supposed to kill prince Youngho

you still don’t know how the heck the man looks like because the one infiltration to find out his face was interrupted by your friend Johnny, who may or may not possibly be a prince and brother of your target. The thought that you’ll have to kill one of his brothers kinda hurt you, but if he’d listened to your warning, he should be far away from the castle tonight

from the intel you gather, Prince Youngho is usually alone in his chamber on one specific day of the week (today), and you know where his chamber is so you made your way towards there, patiently waiting for the wee hour so you can take him out

what you don’t expect is Johnny’s friend Jeffrey to show up

he was accompanied by another person in robe, someone he called Doyoung, also strikingly handsome like the rest of the people in this castle apparently. Goddamn you really hit the jackpot with meeting all the princes did ya

Doyoung: this is ginseng tea, remember to make him drink it all, Youngho said he’s been getting these weird heartburns lately that won’t go away

Jeffrey: don’t worry I’ll force it down his throat if he doesn’t hehe

Doyoung: Jaehyun.

Jeffrey/Jaehyun: i’m kidding

oh no… oh man.. you really liked Jeffrey you rEALLY do he gets all your memes! but if he is indeed prince Jaehyun, then intel has it he was very close with prince Youngho :( oh no he’s going to be so devastated..

you’re getting sad on the job which is very unlike you.. But you know this is what happens when you try to get close to people as assassin. it hurts.

but what hurts the most is the voice that calls out to Jeffrey and prince Doyoung

prince Youngho emerged from his chamber.

You feel like the world fell upon you, heavier than when you were eight and thrown out of the house by your foster family because you didn’t “belong,” heavier than the boulder your master dropped on your shoulder when you were twelve and called it “mental training,” heavier and more painful than when Johnny smiled and you know it was a smile reserved solely for you

the shock hit you harder than it should, and as you tried to cope with the reality that you would have to kill Johnny, you lost your bearing on the roof and fell

Doyoung, stepping in front of Jaehyun: did you hear that?

Jaehyun: yes, but hyung why do you have a sword strapped to your waist we’re in nightgowns?

Youngho: call the guard, we may have intruders

Jaehyun: hey… isn’t that… someone we know? Hyung look

You got up as fast as you fell and tried to flee, but Youngho was faster, and soon he was close enough to grab your arm before you got the chance to escape

Doyoung, sword drawn across your throat: who are you?

Jaehyun: hyung relax, it’s our friend

you don’t know what to make of that but for now you gotta go, can’t risk another prince see your face good god you’re a terrible assassin

So as Youngho released your arms, you bolted into the shadows and parkour your way out of the castle

the next day you see Johnny at the same public space where he performs, except it’s not one of his performing day and he’s just there in disguise

and Jeffrey nowhere in sight but next to him is prince Doyoung, the scarier prince you’ve come to meet yesterday

Johnny: hey! glad you’re here, this is um.. you know who he is but call him Charlie

Doyoung eyes you suspiciously before turning back to Johnny: can’t believe we’re talking to an assassin that was sent to kill you.

Doyoung was right. You don’t know what to say because there’s nothing to say. Your relationship or friendship whatever it was has ended and you were sure this is the supposed goodbye before you take off. It was nice, albeit awkward, but less awkward thanks to a third person being there, but you weren’t used to goodbye. The life of an assassin didn’t permit you any goodbyes.

Johnny: Charlie im only taking you with me because you were worried for my safety. Now that we’ve established that, please go entertain yourself at the market. Jeffrey and Jason are waiting for you (Jason = Jeno)

Johnny, after Doyoung skedaddled: work for me.

you: what

Johnny: look, i know you were hired to assassinate me, but i don’t care. work for me or just stay here, don’t leave or.. or i will search the world to find you

You, an awk at emotions: ….dude can you even leave the castle as the prince? like?

Johnny: okay sHUT UP we do have strict rules regarding that but my pOINT IS. I like you, stay with me.

His words were sincere, there’s not a hint of sarcasm in his voice, and no one has ever said something like this to you–especially not after you tried to kill them. You didn’t think you deserve Johnny or the idea of having a life where you can settle down.. but as you look at him, look at the sincerity and purity in his eyes, you know he meant it.

you nodded right before he pulled you to an embrace and attempted to swing you around

Jeno: ah look there’s Young—Johnny hyung!

Doyoung: don’t run Jason hold my hand

Youngho, under his breath: damn that Doyoung always showing up at the most crucial moment

you laughed as he lets you go, but not before promising him that you’ll stay, as a regular village girl or as his new employee, you’ll stay in the kingdom for him

#he cried #that hurts me he doesn't cry a lot #johnny has my heart im so proud of him #johnny #johnny au #johnny scenarios #nct #nct127 #nct au #nct scenarios #youngho #seo youngho #youngho au #youngho scenarios #fluff #johnny fic #nct fic #johnny fluff #nct fluff

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silvrwore-blog · 6 years ago

Text

---------- OOC.

hi im mitch : ) im a big f*king idiot, too. let me preface this by saying it is currently uhhhhhh 6 AM est and i still haven’t slept yet !!! i thunk i started this around 10 PM last night but im slow. really slow. everything about this ??? a hot mess ™ . it isn’t going to make a lick of sense !! but thanks for stopping by sdkjsadklsd. anywhomst im mitch, i’m twenty, in the est, and im ready to rock and roll buckaroo. my guy here? he’s an idiot. but he’s my idiot. therefore, i have to love him. the history is long ( i know because i started there first ) so ill make a little tl;dr with some simplified notes on him. i think that covers ??? everything ?? so far ? im always down to plot in the DMs or i have discord at oovoo javer #4855 mwuah !!

---------- APPLICATION.

( jack lowden, twenty-seven, cismale, he/him ) – have you seen bennett sharpe, the financial strategy student around oxford yet? i hear they can be conforming and convivial, but those who know them insist they’re reminded of beige turtlenecks and plaid blazers, eraser shavings on an old oak desk, and eagerly belting out the latest tunes when they’re around. rumor has it that due to stress, he had a breakdown in high school that put him a year behind his peers and his family has tried to cover it up. is it true? only time will tell… ( mitch, twenty, she/her, est )

---------- HISTORY.

THEY’D ALMOST STRUCK GOLD with bennett sharpe. smart enough not to have to buy your way into college, but not smart enough for his peers to despise him. the gusto of an entertainer and the charm of a damn good politician ------------ but they’d never been quite able to buff out that chip on his shoulder.

the sharpe’s were an interesting case. too good to slum it with the poor folk but not rich enough to always be able to sit at the BIG table. a family who paved their way in law and then literature. blood in the supreme courts and in those scandelous little novels that housewives sipped a glass of wine over. at least that had been his mother’s contribution to the family fortune ----- a wonderful dinner conversation.

--------- “ oh mother, what raunchy debauchery are you slaving away at now ? “

bennett was the oldest of three ( followed by one girl and then another boy ). he was a good son. would have been a real golden child to anyone else --- well, with a little love, care & patience. normal family things. from a young age he had a memory unmatched and a love of strategy games. a youth who loved to test his brain. which was fine and dandy, however, it wasn’t quite leading up to being a judge. he wasn’t following in his family’s footsteps. he’d gotten a little... off track. he had just been better with numbers. money crunching. equations. it had been a tough pill for his family to swallow but swallow it they would. afterall, it hadn’t been their biggest concern when it came to their oldest son.

it had always been there. carefully covered up with the occasional “ he’ll grow out of it “ or “ stop it. nothing is wrong. “ maybe that had been the real giveaway to why he’d never amount to anything big. “ he’s FRAIL. no spine. “ a good and competent doctor would have had him diagnosed and taken care of. seventeen and he’s missing classes but not for normal rich kid things. the world’s bigger and scarier than it ever was. college and a future right around the corner, parental pressure, it snowballs until it is all too much. one day of important testing and bennett sharpe never shows. he had not been on campus at all. sometimes when the panic became too much, it did him well to distract his mind ---- go outside. count the blades of grass or the birds in the sky. breathe. it’s what he had done that afternoon. left and tried to sate his mind. but nothing had done it for him that day. nothing to cure him. the world? bleak. the future? uncertain. weapy and tore down. the little devil on his shoulder named ‘ desperation ‘. he needed out. his parents phone and the message becomes crystal clear...

--------- “ i can’t do this. “

so he’d ‘” turned tail and ran “, branded some sort of listless coward. he didn’t know what was wrong with himself, nor did his parents. the only thing they were certain of was that they would not have a son coming apart at the seams. they’d grilled him. no one was going to take him seriously or he’d never find himself in any important position if he was always going to go chicken. a breakdown never looked good. it did not matter to the rich or the poor, one would still be ridiculed. but corporations wanted someone steely, confident, put-together. all the things bennett was not becoming. so they’d contacted his school - wrote it off as a vacation. save face. “ oh i got bored. decided to go to switzerland instead ! couldn’t miss it, you see a chance of a lifetime had just presented itself to me, so.... “. however, no donations or pleading on his parents part were going to make up lost time. bennett was held back a year for being unable to complete the necessary testing and exams. oh how he would have to sell that vacation. but it hadn’t quite been a vacation, had it? long days trying to put together the pieces. some days were easier than others. some time to try and buff out that chip. the chip remained.

years down the line and one enrolment to oxford and he’s a lot better than where he started. he’s found ways to cope. some good. some bad. he’s more indendent than ever which has led him to branch out and take care of himself. no watchful eye of mother and father needed. perhaps that’s why he now has therapy pamphlets tucked away inside untouched textbooks. away from prying eyes. just an idea, maybe one day he would water it and watch it grow. go see someone. anyone. now he’s cheery. lively. a staple at parties. heeds his father’s advice and brushes shoulders with the right people. finds himself in the right places. the future is looking bright. oxford may soon to be a closed chapter in his life, but the years had been good to him. until, well, they weren’t.

the riot club had been for the best. extravagant. a little bit of chasing the finer things in life. that had worked out just well for him. death had never been a thought --- or at least it was always kept at a distance. never upclose or personal. a relative here or there, miles away, he’d barely given it a thought. a funeral and they were gone. parties and death were not supposed to intermingle. maybe that was why it was so jarring. the world is a little heavier, bearing down on him once more. he tries not to pay it any mind when he has to excuse himself twice more than usual for a smoke outside. brushes off clammy hands like they’re nothing. accidents happened. he’d find solace in that word --------- accident.

---------- SPARKNOTES / TL;DR.

voted most likely to be that annoying fuck outside your dorm at 3 am who doesn’t know how to turn down the volume

dumb enough to try anything once

despite some tough times he’s just ??? full of life ??? life is a PARTY. and he’s making the most of it now, thank you very much.

“ are you not ENTERTAINED ? “

he’s not the worst,,, but he’s not the best. yknow?

nice enough to get drunk and talk to just about anyone but snobby enough that you bet he’s going to make some insensitive comments. it’s that -- not rich rich enough to be totally elite, but not hurting enough to be able to sympathize with people who aren’t bringing in a f*ck ton of money.

his family ( on his dad’s side ) has always been involved in law. typically judges, and some who have made it to be top dog in their fields. his mother is a writer who does rather well. she’s published a handful of book and his father has also published law-related books which brings in money. his dad is pretty high up in the field but bennett’s got his suspicions that some of the income might just be payoffs. i wouldn’t envision his father as being someone hard to be bought. he might want to grill his son for being spineless or weakwilled but i’d imagine that’s just a family trait inherited.

which uhh brings me to my next point. bennett can be a bit of a follower. there’s not a whole lot of “NO” in him. which may also hurt his relationships because he’s not going to stand against injustices or anything if it is going to put him in harm’s way. which may help perpetuate that rich or snobby idea surrounding him because he’s not about to stand up for the common folk if they’re being belittled for their threads or schooling.sure, he might talk to them here or there in the right occasion but he’s not going to stand for them. he’s sitting pretty. he’s not looking to ruin that.

essentially he’s not going to have your back unless it benefits him.

as far as his secret goes, i think he’s worried about the stigma around mental health and how he’d be perceived but i think a lot more has to do with his family. because he knows they won’t be happy if it gets out or if something further happens. they just ain’t supportive in that department, chief. but he doesn’t want to be cut off or anything and not just because he’d be worried about who was putting money in his pockets. he just doesn’t want to stir the pot any further, even though he should really seek help. i kind of vagued on it but i’d say he has gad ( generalized anxiety disorder ).

---------- CONNECTIONS.

am i picky?? nah. if he can fill something, slot him in. we can chit chat. mwuah

i already know this section is gonna get so neglected because im too tired to think

uhh give me an under the wing sort of relationship ?? listen if bennett can’t repair himself maybe he can touch up someone else. someone he might see something in. buds ? who knows ? not me. but it could b cute.

long time friends !!! doesn’t have to be since childhood but someone(s) he’s known for a while now and they click.

anything angsty ? is good too.

typical friends / enemies plots too !! spice things up.

i need sleep : ) good night !!!!!!!!!!

#no amount of hair gel #suits or ties #will ever cover up the fact he's a f*cking moron #mental health tw #smoking tw #drinking tw #ive been awake 17 hours #sounds like a good time to call it quits #oxfordintro #i will be back in a bit to do dms !! :')#after i snooze a lil

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velvetchen · 7 years ago

Text

Dynamic | pt. iv

[ back to masterlist ]

Scenario: Superhero AU Pairing: Chen/Reader Word Count: 4485 Rating: T (warning for language)

Summary: You’re the leading superhero of the city, and you’ve fought Dynamo for years. It’s the way it should be - good vs. evil, hero vs. villain. But what happens when a bigger evil threatens everything?

<< previous part x first part x next part >>

You’re all clustered around the command center of the NSN, called in for an emergency briefing after your showdown with the giant robot. The thing had somehow cut off all the NSN’s communications, so they hadn’t been able to give you any intel until you were already finished with the fight.

But the minute you’d all got back down to the ground after checking out its head, it had completely vanished without a trace.

“We’re calling him the Dragon,” the Director says. “Since he hasn’t announced himself to the public yet.”

“He? You’re sure it's a he?” Whirlwind asks, his face twisted skeptically.

“Yes,” the Director says, pulling up a grainy image of a black-clad figure leaving a building. “That’s him. We’ve been hearing reports of a very talented hero around town, long before today. We only just managed to figure he and the Dragon are one and the same.”

“Well, what's his power?” you ask impatiently.

“Metallokinesis. One of the strongest we’ve seen in decades.” He paused for effect. “He’s stronger than you three combined.”

You swallow. Dynamo had been right. This city needed everything it had to fight this new threat off.

The Director pulls up another image, this one of a face half cast in shadow. It's blurry too, like someone zoomed in from far away to take it. “This photo was taken by assets of the Villains Association,” he says. You can’t make out much other than a hooked nose and heavy eyebrows.

“This is all the information we have?” Seism asks, looking thoughtful.

“As of now, yes. Our spies are working round the clock. We’ve even got hackers tracking bank accounts, camera feeds, everything within a hundred mile radius. He’s got to have got the materials for that thing from somewhere.” The Director pulls up a hologram of the giant Dragon and rotates it with a flick of his wrist. “From your fight yesterday, we gathered that hitting the face didn’t disable it at all. It’s not electronic, it’s being controlled by him. He must have been somewhere nearby, hiding out and watching.”

That thought was scarier than it sounded - this Dragon guy had been watching you the whole time from afar, and nobody had known.

The Director continues. “We’ve decided on a mission to break in and look for possible hideout spots. Rush, you’ll be leading.”

You’re not surprised they pick you - you knew your way out of a fight, and if you needed to get out of there, they wouldn’t need to send backup. “When?”

“The minute we get intel, you’re up.” You nod.

“But what if he attacks again in the meantime?” Seism asks, and the rest of you chorus an agreement.

“We don’t think he will. Since he hasn’t announced himself - or what side he’s on - we guessed he’s just trying to spread rampant terror. He won’t attack until this hype dies down. Then, when everyone thinks they’re safe again, he’ll strike. So,” finishes the Director, “we have a good window in which to do our reconnaissance.”

As the discussion continues, you turn to your own thoughts, which are loud inside your head. That afternoon’s events. Dynamo, catching you from falling to your death. Dynamo, suddenly serious. There’s no one I’d rather work with than you. This wasn’t your relationship. Sure, you flirted all the time, but that was when he was trying to destroy something and you were trying to thwart him. When you think about Dynamo, it’s without fondness. He’s just there, that’s it. Your antithesis. The bad to your good. The yin to your yang.

This new development confuses you more than anything else.

“Rush?” You snap your attention back to the discussion. “Patrol tonight, don’t forget.”

You groan internally. “Yes, sir.”

When you finally leave the headquarters, it’s night. Nearly time for your patrol to start. You don’t even bother changing out of your suit, strolling into the nearest fast-food joint and ordering the greasiest, most unhealthy thing on the menu, with a large soda on top of that. The sugar and caffeine would hopefully kickstart you enough to stay awake for a few hours, at least. Then you could get a coffee and that would last you the rest of the way.

Tomorrow was a Monday, and you didn’t have any morning classes, so you’d be able to sleep in comfortably. Thank God for small mercies.

Everyone in the store stares at you point blank as you sit down with your tray, unwrap your burrito, and bite off a very unladylike portion. You ignore them. Your head pounds with the aftereffects of using your ability under pressure, and your feet are sore as hell from the three-inch heels on your boots.

Oh, only women knew the pain of looking good while you kicked ass. Something you and Glamour Girl had bonded over plenty of times.

You finish eating and walk back out, soda in hand, sipping casually as you pull out your phone to text Jennie.

You: hey babe im not coming home 2night Jen: oh yeah? are u with brunch boy Jen: cause if u are, GO GIRL You: nope but i have another date w him on tuesday. ahhh You: im at another friend’s place. studying for that test in gov u know Jen: got it got it You: have breakfast ready for me pls i’m pulling an all nighter Jen: sure babe Jen: love u Jen: ace that test ok You: love u too

You sigh and tuck your phone away. It was going to be a long night.

You almost drag yourself down the street at 5 am the next day. You’re sure you must look like death, even with the mask on. You’d been hoping it would be a quiet night, but you just stopped four muggings, a drug overdose, a date gone awry, and a man from pulling a gun on his family. Then you’d been called in for an emergency and hurried to the scene - all the way across town from where you were - only to have a kid ask you to get his cat out of a tree.

Still, you have one more stop before you get home. You make your way to the end of the street, where the warehouse looms, dingy and small. You swear it’s much bigger on the inside. When you push the loose window in the front wall open, the dark interior stares back at you. Empty.

You’re almost disappointed he’s not here.

You get a notepad and pen out of your backpack - both of them predictably fuschia, obviously you - and scrawl out a note quickly.

Meet me at the Spire, midnight. We’re discussing battle tactics.

♡ Rush

Pausing, you squint at your writing. Then you scratch out the heart, a habit from the hundreds of autographs you’ve signed.

You take advantage of the emptiness of the warehouse to quickly strip out of your costume and into your clothes from yesterday, one of your nicer blouses and a pleated skirt. Then you trudge out, look from side to side to make sure no one’s watching, then start the walk home.

The Spire isn’t it’s official name, but that’s what it’s called in the super world - the tallest building in the city, one hundred fifty floors, a perfect vantage point to watch the downtown area. And a place where no one would question your presence.

You wait, legs dangling off the edge precariously, chin in the cradle of your hands as you watch the cars a thousand feet below zip past like ants. As much as you care for them, as much as you love them - the people of this city are just as insignificant to you as they look from this height. All of them, spread out below you - yet you know nothing. There’s this huge barrier between you and everyone else. Because you’re a super. Because you’re idolized, you’re put on a pedestal. They probably forget you’re a person under that mask, a person with a real life who goes to school and works and goes out with friends and does all the other normal people things they do.

With the exception of being super, of course.

Sighing, you shift your gaze from the ground to the sky. It’s cloudy, overcast, and you can feel your hair frizzing up. Maybe it was a bad idea to pick the tallest building around for miles as your meeting place.

“Hey.” You don’t turn around as Dynamo appears, floating down to sit next to you. Thankfully, he keeps his distance, staying a good foot away from you. Any further and you wouldn’t be able to hear each other over the lashing of the wind. “What’d you want to discuss?”

You finally move to face him, pulling your legs up onto the roof and sitting with your elbows over your knees. “We know a little more about the Dragon now. He’s-”

“I know,” Dynamo cuts you off. “Metallokinesis. Super ultra powerful. A recluse, showed up out of nowhere. That’s what they briefed me at the V.A.” He sighs. “Depressing, huh? And I thought I was the most powerful super in the city.”

“Second only to me,” you cut in, grinning. “But seriously, they didn’t tell you anything else? No secret villain-only info?”

“Nope,” he says. “Half of the villains want to side with him, anyway. They’re suck-ups. So it’s a need-to-know basis. We’re mostly just supposed to stay out of the way.”

“You don’t plan on doing that, do you?” You watch him carefully.

He doesn’t waver. “I teamed up with you for a reason, partner.”

For once, you wish you could see his face. Then you push the thought away, shocked. It was better you kept your lives secret. Even within the heroes, none of you revealed your identity - not even to the NSN. It always got too messy.

You don’t reply to his statement. “They want me to raid his possible hideouts.” He opens his mouth to continue but you keep going. “No intel yet. Apparently he was remotely controlling that thing.”

“I figured as much. Metallokinesis, right? It’s got range.”

“Yeah, so they want me to find him out.” You swallow. “I want you with me.”

His response is instant. “Okay. I’m with you.”

“Not just this one,” you say. “All my missions. We’re a team now, we have to fight together. I’ll talk to my superiors.”

“I...okay.” Now he looks taken aback.

You stand up, brushing off your suit, bracing yourself against the wind. You reach your hand out to help him up. “Please don’t shock me this time.”

He takes it, and the tingles of electricity that shoot up your arm are warm and pleasant, like laughter. When he stands to face you, you notice that he’s actually not that much taller than you. Nor is he particularly bulky or intimidating. He actually has a lean, average physique, fit from the years of supervillain-y activities. Huh. Perception really changed things.

“When do you want to meet next?”

You look away, thinking. “Not tomorrow. Besides, I don’t yet have any info from the NSN,” you say. “We could do a little spying of our own, if you want.”

“Wednesday?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” You move toward the edge of the roof. “Bye, Dynamo.”

Just as you’re about to go, he calls after you. “Rush?”

“Yeah?”

“You can actually call me Chen. If you want.”

Your lips quirk into a small smile - at the same time your heart rate picks up. “That isn’t your real name, is it?”

He laughs. “No. But it’s the name I picked for myself when I first decided I wanted to be a supervillain. I like it better than Dynamo.”

Your smile widens. “It suits you. See you on Wednesday, Chen.” Then with a running start, you dive off the edge of the roof, plummeting down, the wind on your face like a thousand tons of force. With a loud whoop, you fall faster and faster, until you’re almost all the way down and then suddenly you blink - and you’re safely on the ground.

Sometimes, having an ability was seriously great.

Paragon was a borderline indie bar/club/thing that you’d gone to often, but not often enough to be familiar with. Today it’s packed. For a Tuesday, that’s pretty incredible. The tables are all crowded, the floor in between filled with people talking to each other and dancing in the music that plays lightly over the speakers. The stage, however, is still empty.

You pull out your phone.

You: im so anxious. there’s so many people here Jen: on a tuesday??? wowwww You: yeah i wonder if they’re all here for him though You: because if they are??? You: i literally will not be able to handle it Jen: ;) You: jennnnnnn come on

When she doesn’t reply, you sigh and put your phone away. Just in time, too. The whole crowd goes strangely quiet as a light flicks on stage, and then a figure is walking out and standing at the single mic. He takes a minute to fix it up, tapping and mouthing something to someone backstage, who finally gives a thumbs-up.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?” he says. A cheer goes up and you’re surprised when you even hear a couple I-love-yous screamed out. “I’m Jongdae and I’ll be your entertainment. Have a wonderful evening.”

Music starts up immediately, a strong electronic and jazz sort of fusion that has everyone drawn in by the energy. And then he starts singing and holy shit, you’ve never heard anything like it before. His is the most lively voice, warm in timbre and perfect in pitch. You know enough about music to tell his vocal technique is near perfect.

It’s obvious why the crowd’s so huge. He’s something else.

You spend the whole one hour show with your mouth slightly open, as he goes from song to song and shows off his amazing repertoire. From ballads to 80’s pop hits to electronic, he can pretty much sing anything. Near the end of the show you realize you’ve somehow made it to the front of the crowd. Here the press of people cheering and dancing is more than ever, and you just stand there, entranced.

It’s more than disappointing when he finishes up for the night and thanks everyone, waving enthusiastically as he disappears backstage. From there the people start to disperse, but there’s still a lot of people in the building for a Tuesday.

You decide to go looking for him.

Winding through the crowd, you skirt along the far wall and towards the door you saw him go through earlier. “Excuse me,” you mutter, nearly crashing into someone with a tray of drinks. Finally you make it, and even though the door is closed, you hold your breath and knock, thrice.

When no one opens up, you figure they must not hear you above the blaring music and knock again, harder this time.

The door swings open to reveal a scary-looking bouncer. You’re thrown off for a minute, but regain your confidence. “Uh, I’m Y/N,” you nearly yell. “Jongdae invited me.”

The bouncer guy eyes you up and down, then closes the door. You hear someone - Jongdae? - yell loudly from inside, then the door opens again and you’re ushered in quickly.

“Y/N,” Jongdae says, arms outstretched from his perch on a retro orange sofa. “You made it! I didn’t think you would.”

You shift on your feet, suddenly awkward. “Well, I did promise.”

He chuckles and pats the seat next to him. “Sit down. Want a drink?” You look at the table next to him, with a half empty bottle of wine, and realize he’s probably had a few drinks already. Unsure, you sit next to him on the sofa and take the glass he hands you.

“So, how’d you like it?” he wiggles his brows. The polite, simple Jongdae from your previous meetings seems to be gone; tipsy from alcohol and the high of his performance, he’s a lot more bold. A sheen of sweat still shines on his forehead, and his eyes spark as he looks at you.

“I loved it,” you try not to gush, but he must see it. “It was - incredible. You’re incredible.” Despite yourself, you blush.

“Thanks,” he says, a self-satisfied grin on his face as he leans back. “It means a lot more coming from you.” He winks. Your cheeks grow even hotter.

“Are you flirting with me?”

He takes a sip of his drink. “Only if you want me to be.”

You smirk back, feeling a little shot of confidence, your alter ego, come seeping in. “Well, in that case-” you reach out and put your hand on his arm “-please continue.”

He raises his eyebrow, obviously pleasantly surprised by your change in personality, but the drink is starting to hit your nerves and you only feel your adrenaline go up. “And what if I skip the flirting and go straight to propositioning you?”

“Try and see.”

His voice is close to your ear, breath warm on your skin. “How about we don’t go for dinner and you come over instead.”

“I don't know, don't you think it's a little soon for that?” Are you just imagining it, or are his lips on your neck? Blushing again, you feel your confidence waver for a minute. But then he’s really kissing you, and you're the one pulling him up from the sofa and towards the door.

He’s laughing as you drag him along. “Demanding, aren't we?” He still comes with you though, stepping out of the back of the building into a small alley.

“Which way?” you ask, looking left and right.

He just grins and pulls you down the alley, stopping in front of a monstrous-looking motorbike with yellow lightning bolt accents.

“Wow, I didn't peg you for a motorbike guy,” you say, a little anxious, but you take the helmet he gives you nevertheless. You climb on behind him, grasping around him loosely as the engine comes to life, and then fear overtakes your uncertainty and you’re clinging on to him for dear life, burying your face in his jacketed shoulder. He smells like standard men’s shower gel and vanilla and slightly like sweat - a scent that’s both comforting and exciting. Eventually, you gain the courage to watch your surroundings as you pass the downtown area and into an area with numerous apartment buildings.

“Wait, I thought you-”

“That’s my brother's place,” he cuts in. “I have my own.” You're both relieved and newly anxious that there won't be anyone else at his place.

Not that you were going to do anything. It would just complicate things. You’d had one-night-stands before - and they were one night stands because you snuck away right after. Usually your partner was too drunk to remember you and probably passed you off as a dream or someone else.

But it was different now, because you liked Jongdae. You knew him. Even with your limited time together, you could feel the beginnings of a bad crush, and even though you were willing to see where it went, the thought of a relationship still scared the crap out of you.

You had second thoughts suddenly. How would you explain it if you needed to leave this time? What if he asked too many questions, or rummaged in your bag, or you got too drunk and spilled your biggest secret? You almost grip his shoulders and ask him to turn around - just as you pull up in front of a fancy looking apartment building.

He parks. There’s no turning back now. “This is the place?”

“This is the place.” He hops off and then holds out his hand for you to take. As always, there are those familiar tingles dancing up and down your skin. You pull back your hand quickly, hoping it didn't look like you were being rude. Thankfully he doesn't seem to think so, and puts his hands in his pockets, humming a song from earlier that night as you begin to walk.

The door unlocks smoothly. He switches on the lights and you look around. Jongdae’s apartment is less personal than you expected it to be. It's also a lot more expensive than you expected it to be - everything is clean and modern, with decorative touches that have the hand of a professional and not a twenty-something guy who sings at bars. There are pictures of him and his family, but strategically arranged across the wall. His fridge has touristy-looking magnets that hold up printed out recipes and some scrawled notes.

He locks the door behind you. “I haven’t been spending much time here, so don't be surprised if you see dust or a stray sock or something,” he says, scratching the back of his head. Like he's nervous. You find it oddly cute. “Um, make yourself at home. I’ll see if I have anything to eat.”

You wander into his living room, which is more of the same. There are a few more photos of people who must be his parents and brother, a signed photo of him singing at another club, skin turned blue by the lights. You pick it up and look at it - study the electricity in his eyes and how alive he seems. So this is who he is.

“Is ramen okay?” he calls from the kitchen.

“I don't mind,” you call back as you put the photo back. There are some knickknacks: several small cat plushies, a jar full of coins and a handwritten note from someone named Kim Minseok, whom you guessed was Jongdae’s brother.

Jongdae enters the kitchen, two cups of ramen in both hands and a wine bottle tucked under his arm. He sets them down on the coffee table and doubles back for a couple of glasses. “Ramen and wine,” he says. “I know, I'm the epitome of hospitality.”

You giggle and take your share. “Thanks.” It's the instant stuff, but you're hungry and it tastes good.

Your teasing mood from earlier is gone, worn away by the ride here and the calm aura of his apartment. Right now, you just want to talk, lulled by the wine and the comfortable silence in between you as you eat.

You fumble for a place to start, going for an easy opening. “So, besides singing and eating brunch, what do you like to do?”

“Well, considering you just summed up my life in two activities, I’d say not much else,” he grins. “But Y/N, I barely know about you. What do you like to do?”

Usually you have a basic answer about your job ready to go, but this time you feel like you should be honest. Well, as honest as you can. “I’m actually a bit of a thrill-seeker,” you say tentatively. “I trained in mixed martial arts for a long time, actually. I like heights and horror movies and I have three tattoos.”

Jongdae actually looks impressed. “I would not have guessed that about you. I’m kind of proud I managed to scare you with my motorbike.”

“Surprisingly I've never been on one before,” you say. “But I really liked it. I’d love to go again.”

“Anything else you haven't done?” His eyebrows rose. “I’m not asking for the sake of future dates.”

“I’ve never been skydiving, for all my love of heights. You?”

“I’ve never actually sung in front of my parents. I think about that a lot.”

“Oh?” you finish up your noodles. “Why not?”

“Well, we're not really on good terms,” he says, looking down at his bowl. “I moved out early, because they didn’t approve of me trying to drop out of school. I started singing when I was sixteen, a few months after I moved in with my brother. So yeah. I haven't talked to them since then.”

“That’s kind of sad,” you say quietly. Your free hand inches across the space between you. “Why did you want to drop out of school, though?”

He shrugs. “I thought I had better things to do. Turns out they were just big dreams. I went back to school and graduated a year late.”

“What kind of things?” Against your will, your fingers have twined with his.

He smiles softly. “That’s a story for another time,” he says. “If you stick around long enough.”

“I plan on it.”

His grin widens. “Can I kiss you?”

“You already did.”

“Yes, but I didn't ask first that time.”

The corners of your mouth turn up. “Okay.”

He leans forward, excruciatingly slow. You close your eyes and swallow. It's not your second kiss, not even your twentieth, but it feels intimate and vulnerable in a completely different way. You actually care what he thinks, what he sees when he looks at you.

His lips touch yours, and you forget about the liabilities.

You wake, unsteady, in a room that's not your own. The covers are kicked off halfway and the other side of the bed is cold. You catch your reflection in the mirror across from you. You look exhausted, and there are a couple of wine-purple marks on your neck. Panic hits, sudden and familiar.

Shit. Did I -

You tiptoe out of the room cautiously. Jongdae is awake; you can hear him humming as he shuffles around the kitchen. Wary, you keep moving forward until he sees you and his face lights up.

“Good morning, Y/N. I wasn’t expecting you to wake up anytime soon. You sleep like the dead.”

“Good morning,” you return, uncertainly. “Jongdae, did we, you know…I don't remember.”

“Don't worry, nothing happened,” he says, grabbing eggs out of the fridge. “Do you like them scrambled or fried?”

“Fried, please,” you say, leaning hesitantly on the counter.

“Right. We were talking and you fell asleep on me a couple times. You looked pretty tired, so I carried you to the bed.” He looks up at you, a reassuring smile on his face. “So yeah, nothing happened.”

Relief spills through you, evident on your face. “Good,” you say, and then quickly rectify, “I mean - I was drunk-”

“No offense taken,” he laughs. You’re quiet as he cracks the eggs into a pan, working a little clumsily, but singing absently as he does so. You close your eyes and listen to the honeyed sound of his voice, a song you’ve never heard before but one that still feels familiar nevertheless.

With a pang, you realize that you could get used to this.

And that terrifies you.

All of a sudden you want to get out of here. You clam up again, looking for an opening to leave - but he’s turning to you with a plate in either hand and the most blinding smile on his face, and you can’t help but stay a little longer.

a/n this is p long compared to what i usually write i’m actually surprised ? also is anyone else swooning over jongdae bc i am wow falling for your own character why dont you get an actual life mer

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chyquando · 7 years ago

Text

Stir It Up

One day, God will finally let me die. As morbid as that sounds, I feel like being sarcastic... but I'm not? When I'm upset or sad, sometimes I get sarcastic.. in a nice way that makes people laugh/cry? But not in a mean way, ever. I don't enjoy mean sarcasm. I only enjoy being mean to myself. I made a gigantic journal earlier, and as I was ready to post it, the servers froze and my music shut off. Do you know how long that journal took? Did you know I enjoy music while writing? No... because I didn't post it and I'm not going to try that again. I had to restart my modem. So here I am, goodnight or good morning wherever you are. Currently listening to an ad on pandora radio. I really don't like ads because they remind me of how fake reality is. Doesn't that sound strange, but truthful? I'm going to say it again for emotional effect: "How fake reality is." The world we live in is so fake... like, look at me having a half deep conversation with myself because I'm too unsatisfied to have one with another person. I even feel a hypocritical hint of desire to complain how the reason why I'm having a conversation with myself is because there's no one out there to continue this deep/meaningless conversation with. I'm going to repeat yet another quote for emotional effect: "im having a deep meaningless conversation." Ever think those two words could be in the same sentence? Oh yes! They can! I feel like one of those conspiracy Keanu Reeves memes that start out "What if...??" Anyway, there are friends I have that I can have these conversations with... I'm just too afraid to be let down sometimes.. thinking I'll be misunderstood or attacked by positivity because friends are so sweet, they don't want you to feel sad... I guess I just need to get my sadness out before I can choose to feel better. I call that being stubborn... I'm sorry my good friends. You love me anyway and thanks! I love you too. Did you know I used to talk to my stuffed animals when I was younger? It was great. Especially because I didn't have any friends, for real. My parents didn't talk to me much either. They wanted my nose in my homework or cleaning or just... I don't know where else they'd want my nose, maybe on my face? I had a big human sized lizard stuffed animal that would sleep next to me in bed every night (noticed how I said my stuffed animal slept? That's how real my relationship was with an inanimate object). I would move around in my sleep a lot at night, so I experienced my first accidental cuddle when I found the lizard hand resting on my back as I woke up, dreaming that I cuddling with an actual person. I woke up dreaming... I do that sometimes, only now that I'm an adult, my stuffed animals have been replaced with occasional literal hallucinations. Literally hallucinating. Back to topic, I hated my childhood. I tried to kill myself when I was 9 or 10. Wanna know how? I watched this episode of one of my sisters soap operas where a character had a drug overdose. My mom used to give me ibprophen when I would fake stomach aches because of the kids at school that made fun of me every day for about.... my entire life up 'till High School. My 9 or 10 year old mind thought "if I can just get my short arms around a pill bottle, I'll be able to off myself!" I waited when finally the day came my mom left the ibprophen bottle on the microwave before she went to bed. I went to bed after downing a WHOLE BUNCH of ibprophen. I was ready to die the next morning, and I had absolutely no regrets. I didn't want to take the whole bottle, incase I woke up alive and the parents would question me why the pills were gone. I woke up alive having to go to school, and I was tragically depressed that I wasn't dead... it only ever gave me a permanent allergy to Motrin (my eyelids swell up and my throat itches and inflames). Now I use Tylenol, but I don't overdose it because I'm actually happier now. And I'm smarter than that lol A lot of my skills at becoming a good friend came from wanting a good friend. I became a really good friend to my stuffed animal, and it became a really good friend to me. I gave my lizard different names, depending on which girl I had a crush on that year. I became friends with them, but not in reality. No, I didn't make out with my stuffed animals... but I did kiss them goodnight sometimes. Now, I enjoy talking to myself when I write journals. Or really, I guess you can say I'm talking to you.. imaginary/not so imaginary audience? Mostly imaginary? Sometimes my best friend Sarah lol I love you if you're reading this. Now, Sarah. That is a real friend of mine who I do love and talk to. She saved my life. Not that I tried to commit literal suicide in older years, but I was pretty dead to life until I started making friends and initiating real crushes that I actually spoke two words to and held conversation. She is one of my first real true friends. Anyway, it's late. And I'm tired. I miss writing songs. I met this girl named Neoma. She has MS (multiple sclerosis). She inspires me. She and I were starting to write a song, but we don't hang out too often because of her chronic pain and fatigue. She's an interesting soul, she's loud and loves herself. She tries so hard every day for any little thing... and she doesn't want to die, she just wants to live. I wish I wanted to live like her. Maybe I need to learn about how to feel and live like that. I know she will be passing someday sooner than I... or maybe not, who knows? I just know, I'm so glad to know her. I get overly excited about new friends, then they go away super quickly because my energy probably scares them... but I don't think I scare her... why would I? She's been through much scarier things... and I want to be there for her. I love her, and she doesn't believe it or know it yet.. but I do. Not in a lesbian way.. but In the friend way.. the kind of way that was taught to me by Sarah. There was a little bit of lesbian action and tendency with Sarah and I hahaha but really, we were honest in feelings of raw friendship. Anyway... this feels a lot better than my first post that we will never get to see... probably because I'm avoiding the issues haha yeah. I'm an adult too. Oh, and my ex fiancé tried adding me over yet another social media. I deleted that ish so quick this time. I made a ton of progress. I left it there for like two or three days... then was like... "meh." Delete request. This title of the post is from the current song playing on Pandora. No correlation to the post. Oh, and it's by Bob Marley. Enjoy the chill. Moral of this chapter of my journal: Sometimes, you need to be your own best friend. I know what you're thinking.... "where the hell did that come from?"

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